LustUndone (4 page)

“Why don’t we give it a rest for tonight.” He looked at the
other three. “I’m sure no one has much of an appetite after all that, but I’m
pretty sure you guys haven’t eaten in a while. We need fuel for the body if
we’re going to get through this.”

“You’re right,” Sophia agreed. “Those photos are a quick
appetite killer, but my body is telling me it wants something.”

“Bobby, why don’t you go on home?” Rebecca said. “You’ve had
enough late nights on this already with more to come. Take advantage of some
time with that new wife of yours when you can. I’ll see that my sister and
Logan get fed and watered.”

The man gave her a grateful smile. “I’ll take you up on
that, if you’re sure. Jan’s a good cop’s wife and very understanding, but—”

“But you’re still on your honeymoon,” she grinned. “Go on.
I’ll take them over to The Crown. They can kick back before we dig into all
this tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.” He nodded at Sophia and Logan. “See
you here at eight a.m.”

“Hopefully with a more open mind,” Sophia called after him.

“The Crown?” Logan raised his eyebrows. “Is that high class
or low class?”

Sophia laughed. “Neither. Remember how I told you the county
is called the Crown of Maine? The bar takes its name from that. It’s a great
place to just hang out. It’s been here forever.” She looked at her sister. “I’d
have though old Frenchy would have retired or sold out by now. But it’ll be
nice to see him again.”

“Actually you’d probably have to go to his house to do that.
He took a bad tumble and broke his hip.”

“Oh, no.” Sophia’s face sobered. “How’s he getting along all
by himself?”

“Remember that nephew that lived with him for a while? Back
when we were in high school?”

“Vaguely. If I recall Frenchy homeschooled him and he stuck
pretty close to home. We always wondered if there was something wrong with him.
Then he sort of just disappeared.”

“Went into the Army. Special Forces, I think. He’s been gone
for years. Apparently he’s not actually a blood relative to Frenchy. Just
someone he took in for whatever reason. Apparently has no family of his own and
just showed up after his discharge, looking for a place to decompress. Frenchy
needed a bartender/manager for a few months, so it worked out well.”

“Really. What’s he like now?”

A corner of Rebecca’s mouth twitched with the beginning of a
grin. “You’ll see for yourself in a little bit.” She stood up. “Come on. His
hot sandwiches are better than Frenchy’s and the place is a lot cleaner.” Now
she laughed. “Almost drove out the regulars.”

Logan made a face. “I can hardly wait.”

Sophia linked her arm through his. “We’ll protect you. We
Blacks are made of strong stuff. And maybe it will be just the diversion we
need at this point.”

Right now she desperately wanted a change of scene,
something to ease the tension gripping her. Night Seekers was used to dealing
with suspicion and outright disbelief when they presented their theory, but
they’d seldom seen such open hostility. They might have been “invited” to
participate in the investigation but it was going to be like knocking down a
brick wall every step of the way. They silently shared their frustration as
they headed to their cars in the parking lot.

The snow had finally stopped while they were inside and the
plows were out doing their best to clear the streets. Apparently Frenchy’s
nephew had also made sure the parking lot was scraped because the area was
clear, although ringed by mountains of the cold white stuff.

The inside of The Crown was just as dim as she remembered,
the aged wood on the walls still as mellow, the floor still littered with
peanut shells. Half the stools at the bar were filled, and a fair number of the
booths and tables. The clacking of balls echoed from the pool table where the
room made an L-shape around the end of the bar. At the moment the ancient
jukebox was silent. The crowd was about what Sophia expected, a lot of singles
and a few couples, letting their hair down after work. Nearly ninety percent of
the people in the town of six thousand plus worked for corporations or the
government.

The found a corner booth and slid in and a waitress
materialized next to them almost at once.

“You guys planning to eat?” she asked.

When they nodded she dealt plastic menus around the table,
took their drink orders and headed toward the bar. Sophia watched her, eyes
tracking to the man behind the bar. And unexpectedly her pulse kicked up and
heat flashed through her.

What the hell is this?

But the man seemed to carry an electric charge around him.
He wasn’t that tall, not even six feet, she guessed. But inside the plaid shirt
with the rolled-up sleeves she could see the outline of a compact, muscular
body. Thick, dark hair touched the collar of the shirt and she could see it
sprinkled on his arms where they were visible. His face was rugged rather than
handsome, at least as much as she could tell from that distance. A good case of
five o’clock shadow gave him an intriguingly dangerous look. Then he raised his
eyes to scan the booth and she felt their impact clear to her toes.

Sophia wriggled in her seat, trying to still the sudden
ramped-up beat of her pulse in her cunt. Why on earth in the midst of this
crisis did her hormones suddenly decide to take a walk on the wild side?

“He and Frenchy sure don’t look anything alike,” she told
her sister.

“I know. Hot, isn’t he? Every woman in the county’s been
trying to get his attention.” Bec looked up from studying the menus. “And this
seems to work out for both of them.” She gave her sister a knowing look and her
mouth curved in a tiny smile. “Go on and introduce yourself to him, Soph. You
know Frenchy always had a soft spot for you. You can ask him to pass along your
greetings.”

“No.” Sophia shook her head. “No need to.”

“Chicken. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a good-looking
man.”

“Of course not.” She buried herself in the menu.

“Come on.” Rebecca set her menu down and pushed against
Logan to slide out of the booth. “Let’s go say hello. It will take your mind
off the meeting we just had.” She made a face. “And the one tomorrow morning.
Besides, I want to ask about his almost-uncle.”

“I don’t think—”

“Right. Don’t think.” She grabbed her sister’s hand and
practically dragged her out of the booth. “He doesn’t bite. I promise.”

Sophia reluctantly let herself be towed across the room by
her sister. Her instincts were telling her she was stepping into a danger zone.

Get it together, Black. He’s just some bartender you’ll
never see again after this gig.

The man was polishing a small area of the bar with a cloth
when Rebecca rapped on the heavy wood to get his attention.

“Saw you come in, Bec.” His voice had a low, smoky sound to
it. “You surely do bring this place some class.”

Rebecca laughed. “Well, now you can double it. This is my
sister. Sophia Black, meet Clint Beaudine.”

He dropped the rag, swiped his hand on the leg of his jeans
and held it across the bar. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Sophia put her small hand in his large one and nearly jumped
at the electric shock that ran through her arm and into her body. She looked at
Clint and saw the same reaction reflected in his eyes, an amber-flecked hazel.
He squeezed her hand lightly before releasing it.

“A real pleasure.” His words were like a caress skating over
her skin.

Sophia couldn’t take her eyes from him. She couldn’t
remember a time, ever, that a man had affected her this way.

“Soph?” Rebecca gave her a gentle nudge. “You still with
us?”

Had she just spaced out over this man? In front of her
sister? Great. Just great. She gave herself a mental shake.

“Yes. I’m sorry. Nice to meet you. I was sorry to hear about
your uncle. Frenchy’s lucky you’re here to stay with him,” she said. “Give him
a hand.”

Clint shrugged, the powerful muscles flexing beneath his
shirt. “I’m just glad I needed a place to hang out while he needed help.”

“How is he coming along?” Rebecca asked.

He grinned, and Sophie nearly melted at the dimple that
flashed. “Getting cranky, so I know he’s better. I’d say it won’t be too long
before he’ll be pushing me to let him come in here. At least for a couple hours
a day.”

“But you’ll be here with him, right?” Rebecca asked.

“Probably. I’ll stay until he doesn’t need me anymore.”

He picked up the bar rag again and went back to polishing
the same spot, but his heated gaze was still on Sophia. She had the distinct
feeling he was mentally stripping away her clothing, his amber-flecked eyes
devouring her as if he hadn’t eaten for a week and she was a gourmet meal.

“Well, that’s very nice of you.” God, how dull could she
sound? “Frenchy always took good care of all of us from the barracks whenever
we came in here.”

“If I can interrupt the social circle, I need some refills.”
The waitress had come back up to the bar, nodding to Rebecca and looking at
Sophia with open curiosity then plunked her tray down on the bar.

“Sure thing, Diane.” But his eyes held Sophia’s for a long
time before he began to fill the orders.

She and Bec started to walk back to the booth when he spoke
again.

“Who’s the guy?” he asked as he efficiently drew beer from
the tap and poured shots over ice.

“You mean with us?” Rebecca asked. “Logan Tanner. He and
Sophia are here to help with a case.”

“That right?” He set the drinks on Diane’s tray and she
flounced off, obviously not happy to be shut out of the conversation. “You
talking about Darrell Franklin?”

Rebecca looked at her sister as if to say no use denying it.

“Yes. That’s the one.”

“Damn shame about him. Can’t imagine what kind of animal got
him. Did that to him.” He leaned on the bar and locked his gaze with Sophia’s.
“You a cop, too?”

“Not anymore.” She hitched herself onto the empty barstool
next to her, aware that her legs were suddenly like rubber. “I used to be in
the state CID like Bec.”

“So what do you do?”

“I…work with a specialized group based in Texas.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Specialized? That why they called you
in?”

Called us in. Right.

“We have experience with unusual killings. Listen, it’s been
very nice meeting you but I really think I’m ready for some food.”

“Hot roast beef and fries,” he told her. “Best on the menu
tonight.”

“Oh. Well. Fine.” She managed to move off the stool and get
her feet under her. The air between them was alive with sexual awareness. “I’ll
ask Logan what he wants.”

“To eat,” Clint said.

“What?” She frowned. “Of course to eat.”

Clint finished fixing the drinks and leaned on the bar to
watch Sophia. She looked just as good going away as she did coming toward him.
Maybe five four, he figured, with that mass of hair nearly as dark as his own.
Not skinny but with curves that even her jacket and sweater didn’t quite
disguise. Sexy, in a well-toned package. An earthiness that radiated from
beneath the very utilitarian clothing.

And those eyes! Jesus! Like molten emeralds. They could
pierce directly to a man’s soul.

He was glad he was standing behind the bar and was wearing
heavy jeans. Otherwise everyone in the place would see his sudden erection
poking to get loose. He worked hard to keep his overactive libido under
control, a byproduct of his genetic structure. Most of the time it worked.

He’d kept his sexual liaisons to a minimum since he’d been
back in Houlton, usually venturing as far away as Bangor and Portland for what
he could only call his shack-ups. Scratching an itch. Couldn’t let himself
become the topic of conversation around here. Or raise anyone’s expectations.
So far it was working.

But Sophia Black looked at him and the heat blasted straight
to his groin. He wanted her naked and under him, his cock buried deep inside
her. And not just for one night.

And that scared him more than anything else.

Gritting his teeth, he picked up the bar rag and began
polishing the spot that already shone from his efforts. When Diane passed new
drink orders to him he was glad for the distraction.

“That’s some impression you made.” Rebecca’s voice was
pitched low and filled with amusement.

“I think it’s just part of his bartender charm,” Sophia
protested.

Bec laughed aloud. “Trust me. Charm is the last word anyone
would use to describe Clint Beaudine.”

“I thought maybe you’d forgotten all about me,” Logan
grinned, standing up so Sophia could slide back into the booth.

“Not a chance.”

“Don’t jab me with your elbow but that bartender looked as
if he wanted to drag you away to his cave.”

Sophia felt her face heat. Had it been that obvious to
anyone but her? “I think you’re reading too much into a civil conversation.”

He laughed out loud. “I’m a man, remember? I know the signs.
Anyway, are we going to eat? My stomach’s crawling up my backbone.”

The waitress had delivered her drinks and now stood
expectantly by their booth, her eyes frankly studying Sophia.

Rebecca grabbed everyone’s menu. “We’ll all have the hot
roast beef on a French roll and fries.” She grinned at the others. “Specialty
of the house.”

Surprisingly, the food was just as delicious as Clint had
promised. They ate in ravenous silence, enjoying the juicy beef and the crisp
fries. When Diane came to clear away their plates she set a fresh round of
drinks in front of them.

“Compliments of the charmer behind the bar.” She studied
Sophia again. “You must have something going for you because he never says two
words to anyone else.”

“I know his uncle,” Sophia explained.

Diane snorted. “Yeah, right. Anyway, he asked if you’d stop
at the bar for a minute before you leave.”