ToServeAndProtect (19 page)

“I call it retro,” he said without a trace of
embarrassment in his voice. He dropped his jacket on the sofa. “Look around if
you want. The view of the parking lot is nice.”

Dustin disappeared down the hall. She assumed to his
bedroom, and her pulse jumped with the thought. Swallowing the tightness in her
throat, she crossed to the sliding glass doors, slid it open, and stepped
outside into the dry afternoon heat.

“I know,” he said, coming back into the room. She
glanced over her shoulder. Dustin buttoned a clean, starched, short-sleeved
dress shirt. “It pales in comparison to the view from your bedroom.”

“Would you be surprised to know I like this?” She
stepped back into the air-conditioned apartment and slid the door closed. “This
is homey, lived in. My house feels more like a museum. Since Elliot’s murder,
it’s just scary.”

“After we figure out what happened in that bedroom,
you won’t have to be scared anymore. And just think, once you’ve been cleared
of any wrongdoing, you’ll have enough insurance money to redecorate. Gut the
house and start over.”

She laughed. “The house is overstated, but I wouldn’t
waste my money remodeling. I’m sure as time goes on, it’ll take on more of me
and less of Elliot.” She took a step toward him. “I admit when I’m with you,
I’m not scared.”

He took a step back. “I want to touch you, but if I
do, we’re going to miss our plane.” He picked up the phone. “One call and then
we’re out of here.” While he waited for someone to answer, he strapped on his
gun harness and holstered his weapon. “Good, you’re home. Did you get my
message? Will you pick up my mail while I’m gone?”

McKenna tried not to appear as though she were
listening to every word he spoke, but her heart pounded as she wondered who was
on the other end. Technically it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t know whoever the
person was. She didn’t know much at all about the detective. She certainly
didn’t know any of his friends besides Tyson. She sighed. He knew everything
about her. Maybe on this trip she could change that.

Dustin hung up the phone and opened the front door.
“Becca will be up in a minute to get my mailbox key. I need to grab a few more
things.”

“Oh, okay.” Shit, another woman. McKenna mentally
stomped on the butterflies in her stomach.

“Dustin, I wanted to tell—” A bubbly redhead pulled up
short when she saw McKenna standing near the sliding glass doors. “Oh, I didn’t
realize you had company.” Her smile was wide and toothy.

“Becca, this is McKenna Porter.” Dustin came out of
the bedroom with a hard black plastic case with a metal combination lock on the
latch.

The smile was gone. “I’m sorry about your father. I
read in the paper that they’re following new leads. How’s the case coming,
Dustin? Are you getting close?” She turned to McKenna. “To think someone could
be running around our town dissecting bodies.” She shuddered. “Makes me glad I
live below a detective.” She sat down as if she’d spent many afternoons on
Dustin’s couch. “I read somewhere, but I can’t seem to remember where exactly
now.” She put her finger to her head. “Anyway, I read that his murder was a
satanic ritual. The blood was drained from his body and drank in the hills
behind your house to pay tribute to the dark force.”

“Bunch of bullshit,” Dustin said and shook his head in
disbelief. “If that were true we’d have a body and no blood. Here.” He handed
her his mailbox and house keys.

“Okay, call me when you get back.” She was almost out
the door when she turned. “I haven’t heard from Tyson.”

Dustin shrugged. “You know how he is, Becca. Tyson
doesn’t share his business.”

“No, just his conquests.” Becca left, leaving the door
open.

“Tyson’s a player?” McKenna asked. “Because if he is,
I need to know. He invited Dawn over for a romantic dinner tonight.”

Dustin’s laugh was deep, rich, and warm like honey.
“Mickey, if we could only be flies on the wall.” He lifted his suitcase and
stood by the open door. “Candlelight to Tyson is the glow of the barbecue.
She’ll be lucky to get an imported beer. Domestic beer and sex, that’s all
Tyson requires for a romantic date.”

The forty-mile drive to the airport was miserable. The
mediocre air-conditioner fought to cool the truck. “We should’ve brought my
car.” She adjusted the vents until the tepid air blew directly on her face. Her
shirt clung to her back and beads of perspiration dampened the hair above her
ears.

“In a couple of hours you’ll have an ocean breeze
cooling your skin.” He signaled and changed lanes to merge onto the interstate.
Dried out vegetation became a blur out the window as they drove in silence.

Dustin entered the long-term parking lot and found a
space near the shuttle stop. He had one small bag and the hard black case with
the combination lock. He dropped the tailgate. “Hold this.” He handed her his
jacket. After unloading his gun, he carefully placed it in the molded foam
compartment. He put the bullets in a plastic box that snapped closed. Finally,
he took off the harness and put it into his bag.

“Why does being here with you feel awkward when at
home it doesn’t?” McKenna took her sunglasses from her purse.

Dustin slammed the tailgate closed. “Because it’s hard
to be good when you can’t get caught.” He grabbed the two heavy bags, and
McKenna put her carryon over her shoulder.

The shuttle took them to the main terminal where
Dustin went through the tedious task of checking a firearm. Fingerprints,
serial number, department affiliation, every detail had to be verified. The
black box was labeled and sent down the conveyer belt along with their luggage.

“We’ve got about an hour and a half before our flight.
Want something to drink?”

She nodded. “A soda.”

They made their way through security and up the
escalator to the terminals. They entered the first pub they came to. Dustin
ordered a soda for her and a beer for himself, then escorted her to a round
table in the corner.

“Did you call Janie and let her know you’d be out of
town?” McKenna hung her purse on the back of the chair before sitting down.

Dustin took out his wallet and paid for the drinks.
“I’ll call her when we get back.” He looked at his watch. “Are you hungry?”

McKenna crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Look, my relationship with my daughter is not open
for debate. Janie’s fine. If Trish needs something, she calls. And for the
record, she calls enough.” He drank his beer and watched news on the television
anchored on the wall above the pub counter.

“I’m not talking about your ex-wife calling for money.
I had all the money I needed growing up. What I didn’t have was a dad.” She
dropped her hands into her lap. “Call her, Dustin, ask her if there’s something
she’d like from California. She should be the first thing you think of when you
wake and your last thought before you go to bed.”

He took his cell phone out of the inside pocket of his
jacket. “You already have that spot.” He dialed the number. “But I do think of her.”
He waited for an answer, and then said, “Trish, I’d like to talk to Janie.”

* * * * *

Joe Marino watched his brother work his hand with a
black rubber ball. Fingers, thick like his neck, squeezed until his knuckles
popped.

“I’m sorry sir. But I’m not finding anything that
would lead us to the location of your money.” A small man sat behind the
computer screen with beads of perspiration forming on his upper lip while his
fingers tapped across the keyboard.

“The detective must’ve erased the hard drive,” Joe
said.

Robert shook his head. “Let me do the thinking, Joe.”
He squeezed the ball as he paced across the room.

“Sir,” the computer man interrupted. “The detective
found e-mails from Ms. Meadows.”

Joe laughed. “That’ll be a dead end.”

Robert’s sharp eye cut the laugh from Joe’s lips. “A
dead end like the good doctor.” He seethed. “And let’s not forget the
incredible job you did last night. I’ve got a computer, Joe. What I want is the
goddamn money!” Robert forcefully hurled the ball, ricocheting it several times
across the room. “Let’s go home and finish this.”

“She won’t get away again.”

“We’ll both see to it,” Robert definitively stated.

Chapter
Thirteen

Tyson lived in a three-bedroom condo at the mouth of Olden Canyon. Vaulted ceilings, oak cabinets, and tasteful white leather furniture graced a
large open kitchen, living, and dining room area. Green ferns and philodendrons
hung before sliding glass doors leading out to a concrete patio slab.

Dawn slipped off her shoes and walked barefoot across thick,
beige carpeting. “You surprise me,” she said as Tyson handed her a frosted
glass of beer. “I like it.”

She could see he liked what he saw in her. Wearing a
light cotton dress that skimmed past her hips and fell to her calves, Dawn
attempted to appear soft and supple…moldable. Instead of the hard-assed bitch
she’d been to Tyson since they first met. She’d styled her hair without mousse
or hairspray because she wanted Tyson to be able to run his fingers through it.
Just a hint of color on her lips, and eyes widened with a delicate stroke of
mascara. She knew she had sparked Tyson’s interest.

Dawn followed Tyson out onto the patio where he lifted
the lid to the barbecue. “How do you like your steak?”

“Like I’m sure you like your women, pink in the middle.”

Tyson turned the corn still in its husk. “Would you
grab my beer?” He pointed to the kitchen counter with the tongs. “And put
something on the stereo.”

“Sure.” She sauntered into the house and went to the
stereo.

Dawn flipped through his CD collection and picked out George Strait. Returning, she said, “Here,” and handed him the beer. “Eclectic taste in
music.”

Tyson’s backyard was a square patch of green smaller
than the patio. Dawn raked the blades of grass with her toes. “So, Detective,
is your taste in women just as diverse as your music?”

“Married three times,” he said, putting the steaks on
a plate. “But don’t let that scare you. It might’ve taken three times, but I’m
now familiar with the road to hell. I won’t be traveling it again.” Dawn
laughed and Tyson smiled at her. “Are you ready to eat?”

“I’m ravenous.”
And for more than just the meal
.

“Good because I’ve been waiting to feed you all
afternoon.”

They entered the condo and she sat in the chair he
held for her.

“So three divorces. What about kids?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Makes divorce messy.”

Dawn picked up her beer. “I’ll drink to that.”

“I get the impression you drink to anything.”

“There’re a few rules this evening. First, you promise
not to pick a fight.” She smothered her steak in A1 Steak Sauce. “And I won’t
tease.” She took a drink of beer. “Drink,” she demanded.

He shook his head. “You won’t taste the steak.”

“Next,” she said ignoring him. “You have to tell me
why you invited me over and what you like best about me.” She put a big bite of
steak in her mouth and chewed. “Mmm. Good. So do you want to know what I like
about you?” she asked, pointing at him with her steak knife.

“No,” he said to her question. “But because you’re
going to tell me what it is about me that you like whether I want to hear it or
not, go ahead. And by the way, that is what I like best about you.”

Dawn set her glass of beer on the table. “Look Tyson,
we both know I’m not going home tonight.” She picked a wedge of tomato from her
salad and bit into it. “I didn’t want you to think I’m a slut, so I left a
change of clothes in the car rather than be presumptuous and bring in my
overnight bag.”

Tyson went to the sliding doors and pulled the
vertical blinds closed. “Since our being in bed together is inescapable…”

He stalked toward her, and Dawn swallowed hard. “Yes?”

Her heart pounded. Standing next to him, she realized
just how intimidating his physique could be. Tyson was enormous. Broad
shoulders, tapered torso, heavy thighs, he exemplified masculinity. The fine
scent of expensive cologne filled her nose. She glanced up and his full lips
tilted into a smile. She had imagined his mouth doing deliciously naughty
things to all the places that tingled when he turned those golden brown eyes on
her. He reached for her hand and her tummy fluttered.

“Dustin and Mickey have feelings for each other,” she
said. “Have you wondered if I’m just trying to distract you from the case?” She
stood, and Tyson bracketed her hips with his hands. She couldn’t stifle the
moan escaping from her lips when he pressed his strained erection into her
pussy. “Oh shit, you feel good.”

Wet kisses trailed along her jaw. His tongue skated
over the quivering flesh of her neck. “You are a distraction.” He inched her
dress up her thighs. “And the princess is a distraction to Dustin.”