Night Shield (17 page)

Ally acknowledged the sting of the cool tone but didn’t back down. “I can wait until your break.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to take one. We’re busy.”

“I’ll wait. I won’t take up much of your time.”

“Suit yourself.” Without a glance at her, Beth strode away.

“She’s feeling pretty raw,” Will commented.

Ally turned around. “Are you everywhere?”

“Mostly.” He lifted his shoulders. “That’s my job. She trained Jan like, you know, she trained you. I guess we’re all pretty shaken up about what happened.”

“And blaming me?”

“I don’t. You were doing your job. That’s how it works. Beth, she’ll come around. She thinks too much of the man not to. You want me to get you a table? Band’s going to start in about an hour, and it’s a hot one so there won’t be a square inch of free space if you wait.”

“No, I don’t need a table.”

“Give a yell if you change your mind.”

“Will.” She touched his arm before he could walk away. “Thanks.”

He gave her a wide, easy smile. “No problem. I got nothing but respect for cops. In the last five years.”

Beth made her wait an hour, and Ally was having her eardrums rattled by the band’s second number when the head waitress quickly strode up to her.

“I’ve got ten minutes. You can have five of them. That’ll have to be enough.”

“Fine.” She had to lift her voice to a shout. “Can we go back in the employee lounge, or would you rather yell at each other right here?”

Saying nothing, Beth spun around and marched out of the club area. She unlocked the door to the lounge, walked to the sofa and, sitting, took off her shoes.

“More questions, Detective Fletcher?”

Ally closed the door and shut off the worst of the racket behind it. “I’ll keep it brief and to the point. You’re aware of what happened to Jan?”

“Yes. I’m very aware of it.”

“Her next of kin have been notified,” Ally said in the same flat tone. “Her parents will be in Denver tomorrow and would like her things. I’d like to box up whatever she might have in her locker, and have it available for them. It would be easier on them that way.”

Beth’s lips trembled, and she looked away. “I don’t have the combination to her lock.”

“I do. She had it written down in her address book.”

“Then do what you have to do. You don’t need me.”

“I need a witness. I’d appreciate it if you’d verify that I list any and all items in her work locker, that I put nothing in from the outside, or misappropriate any of her property.”

“That’s all it is to you? All what happened to her is to you? Another bit of business?”

“The sooner I cover every bit of business, the sooner we find the man who did this to her.”

“She was nothing to you. None of us were. You lied to us.”

“Yes, I lied. And since under the same circumstances I’d lie again, I can’t apologize for it.”

Ally walked to the locker, spun the combination lock. “To your knowledge did anyone have the combination to this except Janet Norton?”

“No.”

Ally removed the lock, opened the door. As she scanned the contents, she took a large evidence bag from her purse.

“It smells like her.” Beth’s voice trembled, then broke. “You can smell her perfume. Whatever she did, she didn’t deserve to be killed, to be thrown out on the side of the road like trash.”

“No, she didn’t. I want the man who did it to her to pay as much as you do. More.”

“Why?”

“Because there has to be justice, or there’s nothing. Because her parents loved her, and their hearts are broken. Because I can smell her perfume. Cosmetic bag,” Ally snapped out, grabbing the hot-pink case, yanking the zipper. “Two lipsticks, powder compact, three eyeliner pencils—”

She broke off when Beth touched her arm. “Let me help you. I’ll write it down.”

Beth took a tissue out of her pocket, wiped her eyes, then stuffed it away again to take out her pad. “I liked you, you see. I liked who I thought you were. It was a kind of an insult to find out you were someone else.”

“Now you know. Maybe we can start from here.”

“Maybe.” Beth pulled out her pencil and began to write.

*  *  *

Ally ordered a light meal at the bar and kept her eye on Jonah. His Friday-night crowd was thick and they were rowdy. The longer she sat, watching, listening, the more she began to see the myriad problems of keeping him safe.

She saw just as many problems convincing him he needed to make adjustments in his lifestyle until Matthew Lyle was in custody.

Because she considered herself on duty, she stuck with coffee. And when the caffeine started to jiggle her system, switched to bottled water.

When the inactivity threatened to drive her mad, she informed Frannie she was going to help out with the bar tables and grabbed a tray.

“I believe I fired you,” Jonah said as she hauled a tray of empties to the bar.

“No, you didn’t. I quit. House draft and a bump, Pete, Campari and soda, Merlot with ice on the side and the complimentary ginger ale for the designated driver.”

“You got it, Blondie.”

“Go upstairs, get off your feet. You’re tired.”

Ally merely narrowed her eyes at Jonah’s orders. “Pete, this guy’s making insulting remarks about
my looks. And he just put his hand on my butt.”

“I’ll break his face for you, honey, just as soon as I have a free hand.”

“My new boyfriend here has biceps like oil tankers,” Ally warned Jonah and executed a stylish hair flip. “So you better watch your step, pretty boy.”

He grabbed her chin, lifted her to her toes by it, then kissed her until her eyes threatened to roll back in her head. “I’m not paying you,” he said mildly and strolled away.

“I’d work for that kind of tip,” the woman on the stool beside her commented. “Anytime, anywhere.”

“Yeah.” Ally let out a long breath. “Who wouldn’t?”

She worked through last call, then grabbed a table in the club and put her feet up while the band broke down and the staff prepared for closing.

And sitting, fell asleep.

Jonah sat across from her while the club went quiet.

“Anything I can do for you before I head out?”

He glanced up at Will. “No. Thanks.”

“Guess she’s worn-out.”

“She’ll bounce back.”

“Well …” Will jiggled the change in his pockets. “I’m just going to have my nightcap, then head home. I’ll see Frannie off and lock up. See you tomorrow.”

The man was sunk, was all Will could think as he walked back to the bar. Who could’ve figured it? The man was sunk, and over a cop.

“A cop.” Will slid onto a stool. On cue, Frannie set down his nightly brandy. “The man’s hooked on the cop.”

“You just clued into that?”

“I guess.” He tugged on his beard. “You think it’ll work out?”

“I’m no judge of romantic relationships. They look good together, though, and they won’t be able to run over each other since both of them have heads like bricks.”

“She conked out in there.” Will jerked his head toward the club, then sipped his brandy. “He’s just sitting, watching her sleep. I think you can mostly tell what’s going on in a man by the way he watches a woman.”

And because he caught himself watching Frannie as she mopped up the bar, he flushed and stared down at his drink as if the brandy suddenly contained the solution to a very complex problem.

But she caught it. This time she caught it because she was looking for it. She continued to wipe the bar dry as she inventoried her reaction. A nice little tug, she realized, and just a little heat to go with it.

She hadn’t felt—or hadn’t let herself feel—either for a man in a very, very long time.

“I guess you’re heading home,” she said casually.

“I guess. You?”

“I was thinking about ordering a pizza and watching this horror-movie marathon on cable.”

He smiled over at her. “You always had a thing for monster movies.”

“Yeah. Nothing like giant tarantulas or bloodsucking vampires to chase away your troubles. Still … It’s not a lot of fun by myself. You up for it?”

“Up for—” Brandy sloshed over the rim of his snifter and onto her clean bar. “Sorry. Damn. I’m clumsy.”

“No, you’re not.” She slid the cloth over the spilled brandy, then looked him dead in the eye. “Do you want to split a pizza with me, Will, and watch old black-and-white monster movies, and neck on my
sofa?”

“I— You—” He’d have gotten to his feet if he could have felt them. “Are you talking to me?”

She smiled, spread her cloth over the rim of the bar sink. “I’ll get my jacket.”

“I’ll get it.” He pushed to his feet, relieved when they held him upright. “Frannie?”

“Yes, Will?”

“I think you’re beautiful. I just wanted to say that right out in case I’m too nervous later and forget.”

“If you forget later, I’ll remind you.”

“Yeah. Okay. Good. I’ll get your jacket,” he said and, leaving her grinning, dashed off.

Jonah waited until the club was empty, until he heard Will and Frannie call out their good nights. He rose, leaving Ally sleeping as he checked the locks and alarms himself. His heels clicked on the silver floor as he crossed it to go backstage. He chose the light pattern and music loop that suited his mood and set them.

Satisfied, he went back to Ally and, bending down, kissed her awake.

She floated to the surface on the taste of him. Warm, a little rough and very ready. When she opened her eyes, it was as though a thousand stars were twinkling against the night.

“Jonah.”

“Dance with me.” His mouth continued to nibble on hers as he lifted her to her feet.

She already was. Before the clouds cleared from her brain, she was moving with him, body molded to body as music rippled around them.

“The Platters.” She stroked her cheek against his. “That’s so weird.”

“You don’t like it? I can put on something else.”

“No, I love it.” She angled her head to give his lips freer access to her neck. “This number, it’s my parents’ song. ‘Only You.’ You know my mother was a night-shift DJ at KHIP before she was station manager there. This is the song she played over the radio for my father the night she agreed to marry him. It’s a nice story.”

“I’ve heard pieces of it.”

“You should see the way they look at each other when they dance to this. It’s beautiful.”

She dipped her fingers into his hair as they glided over the stars in the floor. “Very smooth,” she whispered. “You’re very smooth, Blackhawk. I should’ve figured it.” She turned her head on his shoulder, watched the lights gleam. “Is everyone gone?”

“Yes.” There’s only you, he thought, brushing his lips over her hair. Only you.

For the first time in weeks Ally woke without the need to jump out of bed and rush into the day.

Glorious Sunday.

Since Saturday night at Blackhawk’s had been more crowded than the night before, she’d spent most of the time on her feet, and all of it mentally on duty.

Jonah might have shrugged off the guards outside the club, but she didn’t think he’d take having her standing as his shield quite so casually.

Some things were best left undisclosed and undiscussed.

Besides, they were doing each other a favor. She couldn’t stay in her apartment until it was cleaned out and refurnished. He was giving her a comfortable place to stay, and she was giving him a bodyguard. To her, it was a fair and rational deal.

And the deal had a distinctively superior side benefit. Intent on indulging in it, she ran her hand over his chest and began to nibble on the body she was more than happy to shield and protect.

He shot awake, fully aroused, with her mouth hot and greedy on his.

“Let me. Let me.” Exhilarated, she chanted it, already straddling him, already riding. She hadn’t known her blood could leap so fast, that her own needs could bolt from lazy to desperate in one hammer beat of the heart.

She took him in, surrounded him, her own body shuddering and bowing back as the sharp claws of pleasure raked her.

He kept the bedroom dark. It was all shadows and movement as he reared up to wrap his arms around her. Possession. It drove them both. He found her mouth, her throat, her breast, fed the hunger she’d unleashed in him before he could think, before he could do anything but feel.

Her release came like a whiplash, snapping and slicing the system. And when she melted against him, he laid her back. Began to love her.

A kiss, soft as the shadows. A touch, tender as the night. When she reached for him, he took her hands, cupping them together and bringing them to his lips in a gesture that had something rich, something sumptuous, sliding through her to tangle with needs still raw.

“Now let me.”

This was different. This was patient and sweet and slow. A fire banked and left to simmer with light.

She yielded herself, a surrender as powerful as seduction. He was murmuring to her, quiet words that stirred the soul even as he stirred her blood. As her breathing thickened she floated on the thin and delicate layers of silky sensations.

The brush of his fingertips, of his hair, the warmth of his lips, the glide of his tongue urged her higher, gradually higher. As the rise of desire became a deep and liquid yearning that spread to an aching need, she moaned his name.

He slid her over the first satin edge.

He needed to touch her this way, to take her this way. He needed, at least in the shadows, to have
the right to. Here, she could belong to him.

Her arms came around him as he sank into a kiss, took it deep, fathoms deeper, until he was lost in it. And lost, he slipped inside her, held there linked, and desperately, helplessly, in love.

When at last they lay quiet, she turned her face into his throat, wanting the taste of him to linger just a little longer. “No, don’t move,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

Her body was gold, pulsing gold. She would have sworn even the dark had gilt edges.

“It’s still night.” She stroked her hands down his back, up again. “As long as we’re like this, it’s still night.”

“It can be night for as long as you want.”

Her lips curved against him. “Just a little longer.” She sighed again, content to hold and be held. “I was going to get up and use your equipment, but then … well, there you were, and it just seemed like a much better idea to use you.”