Seeing Is Believing (6 page)

About five minutes later he nodded and
stood himself. "You never know if they're going to come back or not," he said
once they were both stretching. "Running surveillance is not fun, and it can be
very boring. Whose voice did you recognize?"

"Pat Michaels. I went to high school
with him, although he was a year behind me. He's working at the Whitehouse
ranch right now."

"And the other
voice?"
Reed was fiddling with the camera and sounded distracted.

"I have no idea. It didn't register with
me at all."

He muttered something distractedly, then
nodded and set the camera on a nearby table. "So, are you happy you disobeyed
me and came down here to sit and do
nothing.
"

"I identified one of the bad guys,
didn't I? I wouldn't call that nothing." She wanted to stick her tongue out at
him but she knew it wasn't the adult thing to do. Still, his overbearing
temperament where this situation was concerned was past ticking her off. She
had a huge stake in how this turned out.

"I could have done that with the tape I
just made." He gestured to the camera, then put his hands on his hips and
focused on her intently. The look in his eyes made her nervous, but she pushed
it away. This was her store, after all, and she could do what she wanted in it.
If he gave her any trouble she'd just kick his butt to the curb and he could
conduct his investigation from the sidewalk.

"You need me." She made sure her voice
was deep, and gave off a sense of power.

"You're right, I do. But that doesn't
mean there aren't consequences to what you just did." Before she knew what was
happening he'd spun her around and gathered her in his arms, lifting her up and
carrying her toward the chair that sat near the far wall.

She was over his lap within seconds, and
when he tugged on her loose slacks and panties, and then gave easily, she
realized exactly what he was going to do.

"Don't you
dare!
"
By the time the words were out of her mouth he'd already slapped her now bare
ass. "You creep!"

She fought against his hold but it did
no good. His hand came down over and over again, stinging her bottom, the pain
coursing through her and making her madder than she'd ever been in her life.
Just who did this man think he was?

"There's a reason I told you to stay
away from here tonight." The slaps grew harder and she tried to scoot off her
lap. He grasped her tighter, though, and delivered two hard slaps to each
buttock. "Hold still!"

"Screw you!"

"You could have been hurt, badly, if
they had heard you and decided to come up and investigate." The spanking kept
up and tears stung her eyes. She would be damned, though, if she would let him
see that. And since she was sure her emotion would show in a wobbly voice, she
kept her mouth closed, too.

"What I ought to do is take my belt off,
give you a spanking you wouldn't soon forget. That would help you to pay more
attention when I tell you something, wouldn't it?"

"Go to the devil." She balled up her
fist and slammed it into his calf. His yelp of pain was satisfactory, but before
she could do it again he'd stood her up, gathering her hands behind her back in
one of his.

He immediately sat back down, holding
her hands in the small of his back while his hand came down over and over on
her now aching behind.

"I swear, you'll
regret this!"
The pain was gone from her voice now, replaced by anger; a rage that ran deep
inside her. Nobody had ever spanked her before, not as an adult, and it wasn't
something she ever wanted to have happen again.

When he finally slowed down, his slaps
still landing but with less intensity, and frequency, she heard him sigh. His
hand rubbed her burning buttocks and she tried to pull away.

"Let me go."

"Not yet. You need to realize why I did
this. That gasp you let out could have given us away, and if they had found us,
there's no telling what they would have done."

"Pat Michaels is not a killer."

"You think? Two hours ago, you probably
would have told me he wasn't a drug smuggler, either. Am I right about that?"

She didn't answer him because she knew
he was right. She never would have thought Pat would have taken part in
something like this.

"When people do something like this,
that is highly illegal, they don't want to be caught. When the chances are high
that they will be caught, like tonight, they'll do anything to make sure it
doesn't happen. And that includes murder."

Fear raced through her with his words.
Oh lord, he was right. She hadn't thought about it that way. She was just
pissed as all get out at him for trying to exclude her from the stakeout.
As realization sank in, her body started to tremble, and not from
pain, from fear.

He rubbed her bottom and she tried to
inch away again, but he held her closely. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes." She tried, and failed, to stand
one more time. "Please let me go."

"No. Not yet. I want to make sure you
get the message." He started spanking her again, his hand falling right on top
of the spots it had landed before, making her bottom ache more. She cried out
in shock and pain but he didn't stop.

"Next.
Time.
You.
Will. Listen.
To.
Me." He
punctuated each word with a hard slap on both buttocks, and when he was done,
he delivered ten more, she knew because she counted them, trying to keep her
mind off the agony now racing through her bottom.

"Okay, okay! I get the message. Please
stop, please!"

His touch was soft now and he helped her
to stand, turning her so that they were face to face, her with her pants and
panties around her ankles, her behind throbbing from the spanking he'd just
given her.

"I hope I've made my point."

"You've more than made it. If I didn't
have to worry about the possibility of somebody accusing me of running drugs
through my store I'd kick you out and never let you back in."

The smile he gave her made her even
madder than she'd been just minutes ago. She kicked out at him,
then
realized she was still half dressed. Her cheeks burning
with embarrassment she pulled up her pants and
panties,
buttoned them and then turned toward the stairs. When she was at the top, she
fixed an evil glare on him.

"Don't you ever touch me again, and
don't ever speak to me again, either, unless it has something to do with this
case. That's the only thing I'm
every
going to say
about what just happened. But I'm warning you, if it happens again, or if you
break my commands, I'll contact your superiors in Dallas and make sure you're
fired. I hope you understand me exactly the way you want me to understand you."

Then she made sure her back was ramrod
straight, and went down the stairs into the cold October night.

Chapter Four

For two days, Leslie went out of her way
to avoid speaking to Reed. She was so angry with him she could spit nails. Her
behind ached the full day after the spanking, but was fine now. The fact her
body no longer ached didn't take away the mental pain she still felt.

She would find some way to get back at
him, she was sure of it. She just had to wait for the right moment to pop
along. Of course he might
by
gone
by next Monday, after the last delivery, which was just fine with her.

Good riddance as far as she was
concerned. Maybe she should follow through on her threat to call his superiors
in Dallas, let them know what a cretin he was, threaten to sue unless Reed was
fired. It was what he deserved as far as she was concerned.

She wanted to kick him out of her cafe
forever. But more than that she wanted the people using her store for their
drop off point for drugs to be caught, and convicted. Convicting them was the
tough part. They'd used Reed's video, grainy and dark as it was, to identify
the second thief on Tuesday evening as Mark Sampson, a hand at the Whitehouse
Ranch.

Leslie had argued that since they had
that information, they didn't need to use her store again. But Chester had said
they were coming up with a plan, and she needed to be patient, and things
needed to stay as they were. Chester convinced her she couldn't let on to
anyone why Reed was really in town.

It would be best, he said, to act as if
they were seeing each other romantically, and things were getting hot and
heavy. That might be tough to do, she told him, since they weren't even
speaking anymore. When he'd lifted an eyebrow in question she shook her head,
letting him know she wasn't going to spill the story.

Leslie was pretty sure Chester had run
to Reed for an explanation, and she was just as sure Reed wouldn't tell him. If
there was one thing she'd give him credit for, it was the fact that he was
discreet. He wouldn't give out details about the spanking, she was sure of it.

Still, she knew Chester was curious, and
she knew he would continue to dig. But he wouldn't find out what had happened,
not if she could help the situation at all.

On Friday afternoon, Leslie came out of
the storeroom to find Reed sitting with Chester and his wife, Nancy. Leslie had
always liked Nancy, who was a sweet woman who always tried to spread sunshine.
Today was no different. When she saw Leslie she hurried toward her, enveloping
her in a huge hug.

"I'm so glad you're coming tonight. It's
going to be cold, so remember to wear a nice warm jacket." She shivered for
effect,
then
giggled.

"Jacket?"

"Yes, for the football game. Now, you
and Reed are coming to our house first for dinner, around six or so. That gives
us time to eat and get to the game in time to get a good seat."

Leslie knew her eyes were probably
bulging out in horror, but she couldn't help it. She wasn't a big fan of
football, and high school football, especially six-man, wasn't her cup of tea,
especially since it was supposed to be very chilly tonight.

"Tonight?"

"Yup."
She turned to
wave at her husband, who had called her name and then tapped his finger on the
glass of his watch.
"
Gotta
run.
Remember to dress warmly."

When they were gone, Leslie crossed to
Reed, stopping next to him. "What have you gotten me in to?"

"I'm sorry, are you talking to me?" He
put his hands on his chest. "I thought I was persona non grata around you."

"If you think I'm going to sit outside
and freeze my butt off for your cover, you're sorely mistaken."

"Are you really going to turn that nice
lady down? Dinner will be delicious, and I promise to keep my hands to myself,
even if we're cuddled under a blanket together to keep warm."

"In your dreams.
I'm not going."

He stood and checked his watch. "I'm
going home to shower. I'll pick you up around five thirty. How's that sound?"

"Drop dead."

His laugh made her want to slap him
across the face. "That's what I love about you. You always know the right thing
to say. See you tonight."

The cafe closed early on Friday
evenings, to allow everyone time to go home and eat and get ready for the game.
High school football was a huge thing in Texas, and Leslie knew it. While she
was in school going to the games was one thing, but since she'd been out of
high school for more than ten years, she wasn't too thrilled about going to the
game. And going with Reed definitely wasn't on her to-do list.

She closed up the shop, wishing she
hadn't let Reed talk her out of the new locks on the back door. He'd assured
her the crooks already had what they wanted, until Monday that is, and wouldn't
be back. She wasn't so sure, and the first thing she planned to do when this
was all over was reinforce the locks on all the cafe doors.

The drive home was quiet, and she had to
pass the high school. Despite the cold, people were outside tailgating, cooking
hot dogs and various other foods in preparation for the game. Despite the
fantastic smell, she was definitely glad Nancy hadn't suggested that type of
dinner, because Leslie wasn't up for standing outside any longer than she had
to.

As that idea passed through her mind,
she mentally head slapped herself. Here she'd been telling Reed she wasn't
going, and when she passed the football field her first thought had been she
was glad they were eating indoors, and not out.

It would be the first game she'd been to
in quite some time, and she was looking forward to it, if she told herself the
truth. Getting out amongst the townspeople was good advertising for the cafe.
And if she had to go with Reed to make things right, she supposed that would
work out just fine. She'd just make sure she reminded him this was business,
not pleasure. She was doing this to help with his cover, to support the idea he
worked at the store because they were an item.