Forever My Love (20 page)

He groaned. “I love you, too, Kathy.” Then he sank at the foot of the bed, staring at the rounded beauty of her naked breasts and the erotic wonder of her legs. Just a part of her thighs was bared, and the thin wisp of her panties barely covered the exotic blond beauty of her deepest sexuality. He reached out his hands. “Come here,” he commanded softly.

When she did, his hands wrapped around her waist and he pulled her against him. Her fingers went through his hair, then fell to his shoulders. He stroked the garters and brushed her thighs with the warm moisture of his kiss. He cupped his hands over her buttocks and pressed her closer against him. Tenderly he assaulted the apex of her thighs, the panties more of an enhancement than a barrier as he bathed her with fiery wet heat, delving, caressing and delving once again.

She trembled and shuddered and cried out and fell against him, and he crawled over her. He knotted his fingers around the panties and pulled them off, leaving her clad only in the stockings and garters. She moaned softly, and he kissed her lips and breasts, and once again fell against the heart of her desire, only now there was no barrier between them. She cried out sharply, releasing everything to him, her head thrashing on the pillow.

He shed his trousers and briefs, shaking with the desire to plunge within her. Still he controlled himself, for she was so alluring with her hair spread in wild disarray, her flesh sheened from his lovemaking, her lips parted, her eyes shaded by the fall of her lashes, and the garters and stockings framing the wet, welcoming beauty of her sex.

He held back no longer. A strangled cry tore from his lips as he plunged deep within her to find a welcoming warmth close around him. Her eyes widened with the force of his entry, then her thighs locked around his hips. It seemed that the spark of desire, dying within her just moments ago, rose to life again on a rampant breeze. She squeezed him tightly, and he stroked and thrust with an increasing rhythm that seemed to bring the promise of climax closer and closer.

She met his thrusts with the arch of her hips. He ground against her. She cried out softly and he kissed her lips and breasts. When he knew he could hold back no longer, he caught her lips once again and filled her mouth with the desire and frenzy of his tongue as he filled her with the last shuddering force of his body and the stream of his seed. He felt her writhing beneath him, and he held her tightly in his arms until the spasms were over.

He wondered how anything could be so good and stay so good, and how she could electrify him time and time again. He knew it wasn't the wanting, it was the love, and that desire grew from that love.

But if it was so good, why had it all turned on them so painfully?

He held her closely. The seconds ticked by. She didn't speak, and neither did he. And when she would have spoken, he pressed his fingers against her lips and silenced her with his kiss. He made love to her again.

Later, much later, he felt the dampness on her cheeks, and he knew that she had been silently crying, but he couldn't say anything to her.

They had to get through this. And then he had to leave. There would be no way for him to change the past, no way for them to go back. No way to pretend he hadn't hurt her. And for himself, no way to pretend he wouldn't do so again.

All he could do was hold her and pray that the night would never end.

He was up, wide-awake, leaning over her. She opened her eyes slowly—they didn't want to open. They hadn't slept at all. She hadn't minded, she hadn't wanted to sleep, she had wanted to touch him, to hold him, forever.

But the night had ended, and day had come.

His lips landed wetly and enthusiastically on hers, and then they were gone and his golden eyes were staring into hers. “You gave me the secret! Kathy, I think I've got it. I've got to get to my place and get the guitar. I've called Robert. He should be here any minute.”

She groaned. “With Jerry and Steve, right?”

“Right. What's the matter with Jerry and Steve?”

“Nothing. They're real nice guys. Cute as buttons. You should worry about leaving me here alone with them.”

“You're not coming with me. It could be dangerous for you to be out.”

She groaned again. “Brent, if you're going out—”

“If I'm going out, I feel safer with you here.”

The sheet fell from one of her breasts. His eyes slipped to the rise of her flesh, and he leaned over her to take her warmly into his mouth. Regretfully, he rose and smiled at her. “I'll be back.”

“Promises, promises.”

He was starting for the door. “Wait!” she cried. “You didn't tell me! What did you figure out?”

“I'm not sure yet.”

“You think it's Keith, don't you? You were awfully rude to him last night.”

“I don't think anything,” he said coldly.

He turned and left. Kathy watched him and sighed. A few minutes later she heard the commotion at the door that meant Robert and his troops had arrived. She was exhausted but she knew she'd never be able to sleep. She felt exceptionally restless.

Because he knew something. He knew, but he wasn't sure, and so he wasn't going to tell her. But maybe someone else would think he knew.

The killer, perhaps…

She shot out of bed and hurried into the shower. Thirty minutes later she emerged from her bedroom to discover that Jerry and Steve had brought doughnuts and that they had gotten very good with her coffeemaker and were smiling and eager to greet her.

They were both very nice. Dedicated, all-American. That morning she spent drawing them both out and trying not to think about Brent. Jerry was one of five children. He'd spent three years in the navy, had lived in Miami all his life and wanted to change the city's image of being a hotbed for the drug and smuggling trades.

Steve was from a very small town in Alabama. He had a wife and a two-month-old baby, and he simply loved the Miami area, the beautiful old homes and the foliage in Coconut Grove, the water that was always warm and always available. He even loved the action of the garish nightlife.

It was such a nice, easy conversation. Kathy didn't notice when it turned to her. There was nothing tricky or subtle about the change of subject. Jerry noticed a picture of Shanna and commented on what a truly stunning girl she was. And Kathy found herself laughing and agreeing and saying that yes, Shanna was their pride, both hers and Brent's. Then she was explaining how she had gotten into advertising, how she had worked while Brent struggled with music, how he had insisted they had everything, but that she should go back to school and take something that interested her. Sometimes her schedule had conflicted with his touring, but they had always worked something out.

Jerry was quiet, watching her. Then he blurted out, “It sounds so damned good. You were both courteous to one another. How the hell did you ever wind up divorced? No money problems, no religious differences. What happened?”

“Jerry,” Steve groaned, sinking into his chair. “You gotta excuse my partner,” he said.

“Oh!” Jerry said. “I forgot about your son—” He broke off, turning a mottled shade of red.

Kathy smiled gently, reached out and touched his hand. “It's all right. It wasn't Ryan, anyway.”

“Then—” Jerry began.

“Stop!” Steve protested.

“It's just that—”

“Jerry!”

“It's all right!” Kathy laughed. “Jerry, I just can't really explain. It's too personal.”

“You should still be married,” Jerry said stubbornly.

“Well, you'll have to tell Brent that—” Kathy began but she broke off and they all stared at one another when Sam began to bark.

Then Jerry and Steve were up, both quiet and highly professional, guns drawn as they moved to see who was outside.

Jerry shoved his gun into his holster. “It's the lieutenant,” he said.

“Oh. I'd better get Sam,” Kathy said. She opened the door and called for the dog while Steve went to open the gate.

“Kathy, can you come with me?” Robert asked, watching Sam with distaste. “Brent needs to discuss something with you. I think he thinks he'll hit the last key to this thing if he has you with him.”

“Of course!” Kathy agreed. “Let me grab my purse, and I'll be right with you.”

She went into her room and dumped her wallet and brush and cosmetics from her evening bag into a big leather shoulder bag. She hurried to meet Robert, anxious to help Brent.

Why did she want to help Brent? she wondered. Once this was solved, he was going to walk out of her life. She was trying so hard with him, yet she wasn't getting anywhere. She had known that last night. She was going to start crying if she didn't hurry.

In the living room Robert was telling Jerry and Steve to hang around the house. He didn't know when he would bring Kathy back. With the phone ringing, he hurried her down the path and into his car.

“Think I ought to go back and get that?” Kathy asked. “It might be Brent.” A cold finger of fear squeezed her heart. “You left him alone, Robert. Are you sure he's all right?”

“No, we don't need to get the phone, and yes, I'm sure he's all right,” Robert assured her. “I left him all locked in where no one can get to him. Honestly.”

He smiled at her. She smiled back.

Jerry picked up the phone. It was Keith Montgomery, and he seemed very agitated to discover that Kathy wasn't there. “What's the problem?” Jerry asked him.

“Well, I talked to Brent. He called from his house and he seemed upset. He wanted me to come over and stay with her, to make sure that she didn't leave the house for any reason. He had a hunch.”

“He changed his mind,” Jerry said. “He just sent the lieutenant to pick her up.”

“That's not like Brent.”

“The lieutenant's on the job, Mr. Montgomery. Just hold tight, and we'll get one of them in touch with you as soon as possible.”

Jerry hung up. He looked at his partner and explained the call.

“Sounds like there's something wrong, doesn't it?” Steve said.

“Maybe we should get over to McQueen's place.”

They looked at one another uneasily. Steve exhaled slowly. “Boy, our rumps could really be on the line here, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Jerry shrugged. “What the hell. We can both go back to Alabama, right?”

“Yeah, sure, Alabama.”

They left the house. At the last minute, Steve whistled to Sam.

Sam loved cars. He didn't hesitate a moment.

It wasn't long before Kathy realized they weren't heading toward Brent's house.

She'd never been in it. He'd bought it after the divorce, but she'd dropped Shanna off at the gate often enough, and she knew that though they were headed to the water, they weren't going to his house.

She frowned at Robert. “What's up?”

He shrugged. “We were down at the warehouses.”

“By his old house, the small place,” she breathed. “Where he wrote the song. So I was right.”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right. And it had to do with that article you dug out, too. We're pretty damned sure. He was twenty-two when he finished the song, so he wanted to try the twenty-second storage unit. All he needed was the numbers to the vault.”

“You're a cop, Robert!” Kathy laughed. “Can't you just blow it open?”

He shook his head. “I can't just go blowing up property of other citizens, can I? What if Brent is wrong about the numbers?”

“I guess you're right. But maybe you should get a unit down here or something—”

“Let's just see if Brent knows what he's doing first, huh?”

“Are you sure he's safe?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm sure.”

They turned into the road that led to the warehouses. It was already twilight. The area was old and shabby-looking. Kathy didn't see a soul anywhere.

Robert pulled his car around back, close to the water. She looked at the docks. There were a few fishing boats pulled up to the pier and a few old motorboats. Darkness was falling quickly.

It seemed that no one had been to the warehouses in years. The paint was peeling. The scrawny grass and trees that wrestled a hold through the rocky earth were overgrown and mixed with weed.

“Come on,” Robert said.

Kathy shuddered. “Boy, I wouldn't want to be here alone on a dark night,” she told him. She cast him a smile. “Thank God I'm here with a cop.”

He grunted. “Come on. Around this way.”

He took her arm and led her to a small door in the rear of the brick enclosure. There was a padlock on it, but he pulled out a key and opened it. Kathy frowned, wondering what good the padlock would have done to protect Brent.

But before she could comprehend anything, Robert pushed the door open. For a moment, all Kathy could see was darkness.

Then she realized that Brent was in the room, gagged and on the floor in handcuffs. His ankles were cuffed, too, and chained to the wall. Kathy let out a scream and started to run for him but Robert caught her arm and wrenched her back.

“I told you he was safe,” Robert said. “And he can stay that way.” She heard a click and realized that he had pulled back the safety on his gun and had it aimed at her temple. “It didn't have to go down this way. Brent has the numbers, you see, Kathy. I could have taken the diamonds and—”

“Diamonds!”

“Yeah, it's diamonds. I came up with a connection in South America. And Harry Robertson and I had a deal. It's a long story. It started with a bribe at least ten years ago. Of course, I never let scum like Harry or Johnny Blondell know who I was. I didn't dare. And you would have never known. Except that once we got here, Brent seemed to figure something out. He started playing innocent. Then I caught him at the radio so I shot him.”

“Shot him!” Kathy gasped. He wrenched her closer, playing the cold muzzle of the gun over her cheek. “I grazed him. Had to knock him out. I couldn't risk a fight. He picked up too much about self-defense in the service. I just nicked his temple. He'll have a little bald spot for a while. But he'll be all right. If you can talk some sense into him.”