Silent Scream (28 page)

“I knew it was you the moment you walked into my hospital room,” he said fiercely. “I could barely see a thing, but I could
smell you, just like I’d smelled you on my pillow, and I wanted you then. But it was the wrong time.”

She swallowed hard. “And?”

“And… after that it never seemed like the right time. Evie got taken and everything was crazy. Then you and Noah found her.”

“And the body pit,” she murmured.

“Then you were busy, stressed. Pulling bones out of that damn pit. I didn’t want to make it worse, but I guess I did.” He
brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek, a fleeting touch that made her want more. “I couldn’t let another day go
by with you thinking I didn’t want you, that you didn’t matter. That you were just a substitute for someone else. I’m sorry
I hurt you.”

She held his eyes, hoping she wasn’t a total fool for believing him. “I could have called, too. I should have.”

He smiled and her heart rolled over in her chest. “Sit down. You need to eat.”

She did, not realizing how hungry she’d been. She thought about what Paige had said the morning before, about taking a risk.
What’s the worst that could happen? Dana. He’d said her name. There had to be a reason. There had to be some feelings still.
A man didn’t love for that long and just turn it off because he met someone else.

You did
. It was true, she admitted. When she met David, all thoughts of Doug had fled, as if he’d never been.
But I said David’s name. He said Dana’s
. And if at some point his lost love was free?
Been there, done that.
She was gullible, but she hoped she wasn’t a fool.

She looked up to find him staring at her expectantly. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t, rising to clear
the table. Mojo stuck to his heels, hoping for a handout, but all David gave him was a scratch behind the ears. “He’s a nice
dog.”

“Not as smart as the average bear, but he’s mine. He keeps this place from getting too lonely.” She wanted to look away, but
wouldn’t let herself. “So. Now what?”

“Now, I believe you said you were going to sleep.” His words were mild, but his eyes were still hot. Shivers danced across
her skin.

“That had been my plan, yes.”

“Then come on.” He led her to her sofa and pulled her down in his lap. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in time for your meeting.”

It was surreal, sitting there cradled in his arms, but
it felt natural to rest her head on his shoulder, so she did. “I have to leave early, take Mojo to day care,” she mumbled.

“I’ll take him.”

“Okay. I need to be downtown at oh-nine. Was oh-eight, but CSU needed more time to process Tomlinson’s office.” She yawned.
“It was a nasty scene.”

“I know,” he said quietly and she knew that he did.

“Maybe Tomlinson was the target all along. Maybe the condo fire was just a red herring, to distract us from Tomlinson’s murder.”

“Maybe. Except they weren’t trying to hide his murder.” His fingers gently unwound her braid, combing through her hair.

She pulled back to see his face. “They weren’t?”

“No. Barlow and I went back in to look at the office again. There were no signs of gas around or on the walls of the office.
If they’d meant the fire to hide Tomlinson’s murder, they’d have destroyed his body to destroy the evidence of his gunshot,
right?”

“Right.”

“They should have dumped gas on his body, his desk, his papers. But they didn’t.”

“You’re right. Why didn’t they?”

He pulled her head to his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out after you’ve had some rest.”

“You’re tired, too. How will you wake up?”

“I set my cell phone alarm.”

“When did you do that?”

“When I was sitting on your front porch waiting for you.”

So he’d planned this. She wanted to be annoyed, but
his hand was massaging her scalp again. She closed her eyes, drifting. “That should be illegal. Feels too good.”

He kissed the top of her head. “There is no such thing as feeling too good, Olivia.”

She wanted to know what that meant, but fatigue dragged her down. “Promise?”

“Oh yes.” His words rumbled against her ear. “I definitely promise. Now sleep.”

Tuesday, September 21, 6:45 a.m.

E
ric woke up with a start. He’d been dreaming of the girl in the window. Her name was Tracey Mullen. She’d only been sixteen.
He hadn’t wanted to know that. Of all the dead, she was the one he owned. Her blood was on his hands. But he’d be blamed for
the other two as well. The guard and Tomlinson.
If we’re caught, that is.

He lay staring up at the ceiling, hating the goddamn blackmailer, hating goddamn Joel. Hating himself. And he might as well
throw Albert in there, too. He’d been taken. Duped.
Played for the fool I am
. He’d cared for Albert, but he’d been used.

And Albert actually thought he could draw this blackmailer out.
Idiot
.

Eric knew better. The moment he’d seen the video sent to his phone last night, he’d known it was useless. Albert had stalked
off, intent on his own plan after telling Mary that Eric had first considered running to France. Mary had followed Albert
in a huff.

They were angry that Eric had the money to start over, anywhere in the world. Mary and Albert didn’t. Albert wanted to play
hockey, and he couldn’t do that as a fugitive. Mary… Who knew what that chick wanted? One minute she wanted the blackmailer’s
blood. The
next, she was sobbing over poor Joel. She was an emotional basket case.

And I’m not much better.
His hand heavy with dread, he picked up the disposable cell. There were no new texts, but there would be. It was just a matter
of time.

I have to get out of here, while I still can.

Tuesday, September 21, 6:55 a.m.

He had a few minutes before he opened the doors for the morning’s first customers, so he logged in to his offshore account.
No payment from Mr. Dorian Blunt. Well, he had given the man twelve hours. Dorian had until noon to pay up.

He checked on Dorian’s account, just to make sure it was all there. It still was—two million, cleverly embezzled over five
years, Dorian’s employers none the wiser.
And I might never have been the wiser had Dorian not felt the need to log into his account while eating his lunch, staring
longingly at the zeroes and commas on his screen. He’d obviously thought himself unobserved, but no one ever goes unobserved
in my shop.

He was about to open the shop doors when an e-mail alert popped up on his screen, making him frown.
Eric, you sly dog
. He’d made a rather sizable bank-card purchase of a specific amount, $1,322.65, but to whom? He quickly logged on to Eric’s
account.

Air France. Dumbass. And only one ticket. He wondered how Albert would take that news. He logged out and stowed his laptop
beneath the counter.

The bell on the door jingled, signaling his first customers of the day. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

Tuesday, September 21, 7:50 a.m.

Fell asleep in the Gorskis’ garden again
, David thought groggily, breathing in the scent of flowers. Sweet, but a little smoky. Abruptly he woke, realizing in the
same moment that he sat on Olivia’s sofa and that she was straddling him, her hands in his hair and her mouth busy on his.
Arousal smacked him like a club and his hands streaked under her shirt, roaming her back, drawing her throaty murmur of approval.

In a flash he had her on her back, her surprised laugh breaking into a strangled groan when his mouth found her breast through
her thin cotton blouse.

“God. Don’t stop.” Her hands pulled his head closer. “Please.” It was a gasp as her body arched like a bow, the staccato jerks
of her hips against him begging for more.

His blood pounding in his head, he yanked at the buttons on her blouse. “Hurry,” was all she said as he managed the front
clasp of her bra.

Mine
, was all he could think as his mouth closed over her breast again, sucking hard as she twisted against him, making reality
out of what had been a damn frustrating vague recollection. He pulled at the button on her waistband, unzipped her slacks
and, his own hand shaking, touched her and groaned. She was wet, dripping wet.

He worked a finger up into her, her little whimper of relief stoking the fire in his blood. God. She was tight. Wet and tight
and he wanted nothing more than to drive himself into her, feel her around him. But he’d fucked up twice before and he wasn’t
going to make it three times. When he took her, it would be the right way. Slow
and sensual, so that she’d have no doubts about being first string.

But now… now her hips were lifting, reaching. Needing.
Needing me
.

“David. Please.” The harsh plea made him smile fiercely as he took her other breast into his mouth, suckling as he worked
her higher. The cries coming from her throat sounded exactly as they had in his dreams. He added a second finger to the first,
pressed his thumb hard against her and she wrapped her arms around his head, pulling him closer to her breast as she went
taut, completely silent as she came.

Her breath came shuddering out and she collapsed. In his pocket, his cell phone buzzed three times. His alarm clock. Her body
tightened and he knew she’d felt it, too.

“Good morning, Olivia,” he murmured and she laughed breathlessly.

“Oh God.”

Ignoring the throbbing of his own body, he took the time to admire what he’d enjoyed. Her breasts were full, round. Perfect.
Her skin was pale, flawless. Except for the red areas his beard had scratched. He kissed those places, softly. “I was rough.”

Eyes still closed, she hummed contentedly. “I liked it.”

“I’ll shave next time.”

Her knuckles slid across his jaw. “I liked it. I like this. Makes you look like a pirate.”

He smiled at that. “Open your eyes.” She did and in them he saw sensual satisfaction. “You’re beautiful.”

Her eyes flickered, surprising him. “So are you.”

He pressed a kiss to the valley between her breasts. “You were wet,” he murmured.

“I was dreaming. Then there you were.” Her eyes grew troubled. “But you didn’t…”

“Not yet. There isn’t enough room or enough time for me to do what I want to you.”

He could see the pulse pound at the hollow of her throat. “To me?”

“To you.” He kissed her mouth, then nipped her lower lip lightly. “With you, for you. In you.” He brushed his lips over her
throat. “I didn’t get to that last time, did I?”

“No. I, um, then you… fell asleep.”

He winced. “I’ve got a lot to make up for. Good thing I’ve got fantasies saved up.”

She shivered. “Like what?”

“Most are better shown than told, but there is one… No. I don’t know if I should tell you. You might never sit at your desk
the same way again.”

He could feel her pulse hammering. “Just tell me it doesn’t involve handcuffs or butter,” she said and he laughed softly.

“No butter.”

“But handcuffs?”

“Mmm. And your Hat Squad fedora. And my very big bed with the wrought-iron headboard. And nothing else.”

“How cliché.” Her cheeks were red as flame.

“But effective.”

She swallowed hard. “When?”

“Tonight would be good.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be done.”

“That’s okay. I’ve waited this long, I can wait a little longer.” He slid back down, resting his head between her breasts.
It felt right. Comfortable. Like he belonged.

For a long moment she was quiet, her fingers toying
with his hair, then she sighed. “I have to get up and shower. Go into work. It’s not going to be a fun day.”

He wondered what would make one day as a homicide detective less fun than any other. He thought all the days would pretty
well suck, which was why he respected her for doing it every day. “Why not?”

“The girl you pulled out of the condo? Her mother comes today and she’ll want to see her. I hate that part.”

He’d thought of it, wondered how she and the other cops managed it. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too. But I do have to get up, and as good as you feel, you’ve got me pinned.”

David made himself move, rising from the sofa and pulling her up with him. “I don’t have to report back to the firehouse until
tomorrow morning at eight. I’m at the dojo till nine tonight, but if you get done before then, call me and I’ll bow out early.
Otherwise, I’ll be at my apartment house, probably picking out carpet with my mom.”

She pulled the edges of her blouse together self- consciously. “I met your mom at the wedding. Mia thinks the sun rises and
sets on her.” She was halfway up the hall when she turned. “Did you say dojo?”

Paige.
Had she said anything? “Yeah, I go a few times a week.”

She tilted her head, considering. “You told me about that, back in Chicago. You were a brown belt then. You helped with karate
classes for the kids at the local Y.”

That she’d remembered made him feel foolishly proud. “I made black belt last year.”

She smiled at him. “And you still work with the kids?”

“Yeah. It gives a kid confidence he might not get
anywhere else. And teaches them how to protect themselves.”
Sometimes from the very people who are supposed to protect them. If Megan had been protected…

“My friend Paige teaches a self-defense class for women at the Y. I should introduce the two of you. I have to jump in the
shower now or I’m going to be late. Can you take Mojo out in the backyard?”

He watched the bathroom door close and snapped his fingers for the dog to follow. Out on her patio, he dug his cell from his
pocket and called Paige.

“You didn’t tell her,” he snapped when she picked up.

“Where are you, David?” Paige asked cautiously.

“On Olivia’s patio. You said you’d tell her we were friends and you didn’t.”

“Why are you on Liv’s patio? I thought she dumped you.”

“She thought so, too, but I managed to change her mind.”