Undone by Moonlight (8 page)

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Authors: Wendy Etherington

Tags: #Flirting With Justice

BOOK: Undone by Moonlight
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His breath still heaving, he clutched her tighter. “No
way.”

“Remember you said that in the morning, or you’ll be back in
the hospital. For an extended stay.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. She really was
remarkable.

He couldn’t promise no regrets, of course. His flaws and wicked
genes were bound to ruin anything beautiful they might share. But he was going
to try like hell to keep her from regretting her dedication to him.

Even though he didn’t deserve it.

7

I
N
THE
MORNING
,
AS
SHE
prepared a pot of
coffee, Calla was the one wondering about mistakes she’d made with Devin.

After so many months of longing for him to admit their
attraction, she still had no idea where they stood with each other. Were they a
couple? Friends with benefits? Had they released that pesky tension, so now they
could focus on the case against him?

They’d barely slept, and he’d shown her a tender, even playful
side she’d never imagined he possessed. But the cloud of his suspension hung
over everything. Now didn’t feel like the time to ask him or herself—
what did last night mean?

Taking whatever happened minute by minute seemed like the only
way to handle things. Making impulsive decisions based on the heightened
emotions from last night didn’t seem wise. There would be plenty of time for
tough questions once he had his badge back.

“Haven’t we played this scene already?” he asked, causing her
heart to jump as she whirled.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” she said lamely, soaking up the
image of him, wearing only his jeans and a smile as he braced his bare shoulder
against her bedroom door frame. “Though you didn’t look that happy last
time.”

He moved toward her. His leanly muscled body and the hungry
look in his eyes caused her body to flush with heat. When he reached her, he
tugged her against him and laid his mouth over hers for a long, slow kiss.
“Definitely not a mistake,” he mumbled against her jaw as she fought to catch
her breath.

“Since when do you take my threats seriously?”

“Since you showed up at my desk, demanding I do something about
fraudulent retirement schemes.”

“Don’t mess with Texas.”

“I’ll do my best.” He slid his thumb across her lips. “I don’t
want to screw this up.”

Valiantly resisting the urge to ask exactly what
this
was, Calla retrieved mugs from the cabinet and
filled them with coffee. “You want eggs or oatmeal for breakfast?”

“Eggs,” he answered predictably. “You really eat oatmeal?”

“It’s good for you.”

He sat on the counter beside the stove as she retrieved eggs
from the fridge. “Too mushy.”

“Naturally. Where’s Sharky?”

“Passed out on the sofa.”

“He got way more sleep than we did last night. Maybe we should
have named him Lazy.” She dumped whipped eggs into a pan. “I have some work to
catch up on this morning, then I can help you. Now that we know the thief is
this guy Forrester, we should be able to narrow our suspects for his accomplice
and the reason he framed you.”

“I’m sorry. My crappy problems are keeping you from your
work.”

“They’re not.” She glanced over to see worry in his eyes. “I
need to spend a few hours in front of the computer is all. What are your plans
for today?”

“I’m gonna question some of Jimmie’s buddies about what he’s
been up to lately.”

“Are you allowed to do that?”

“They won’t know I’ve been suspended.”

Calla wasn’t sure about that. If Jimmie had helped set up
Devin, he was keeping track of the case details. Somewhere in this mess was
somebody who wanted to hurt him. Knocked out, suspended and possibly fired was a
good start.

But they could hardly worry about breaking a few rules at this
point.

He retrieved plates, and she served the eggs, which they ate at
the bar.

“I think you should hire a lawyer,” she said. She and her
friends could help him investigate, but they were out of their element when it
came to his legal defense.

“What for?”

“The usual reasons—to advise you, be present if you’re
questioned again.”

“I can handle myself.”

You certainly think you can.
His
short answers and stiff posture concerned her. Her playful lover was being taken
over again by Devin the Brooder. “Okay, your call. When you’re out questioning,
can you swing by your place and pick up the case files? I need to know which
ones involve Jimmie or any of his friends.”

“Sure.”

“Or we could work at your apartment if you’d rather.”

He shrugged.

She pushed away her empty plate and leaned toward him. “Hey,
where’d you go?”

His gaze flicked to hers. “I don’t like dragging you into my
mess.”

“You didn’t. I volunteered.” The frustration over his
suspension had to be draining. She couldn’t imagine her career, one she’d fought
for years to attain, at such grave risk. But
this
—whatever this was—wasn’t going to work if he shut her out. “I want
to be here.” She curled her arms around his neck. “With you.”

He surprised her by scooping her off her bar stool and into his
lap. “I’m not used to sharing.”

“You did pretty good last night.” She brushed her lips across
his. “Surely you’re not going to tell me a cop does his best work
horizontally.”

“I’m a good cop.”

“But not a good man?”

“I don’t see how I can be.”

How anyone could be as smart, strong, gorgeous and dedicated as
Devin and see failure in the mirror was beyond her. “You are. Your upbringing is
only the start of your life. Just because someone’s parents were rotten doesn’t
mean they can’t change the pattern. You’re living proof.”

His arms tightened around her. “How do you know what they
were?”

“Call it a hunch.” She stroked his shoulder in an effort to
release the tension gathered there. “I also have a hunch you’re going to need a
lawyer.”

“Because whoever framed me has done a damn good job of it?”

“So you have to realize this could get worse before it gets
better. If everyone at the department is looking out for themselves, and they’ve
shut you out, somebody has to look out for you.”

He scowled. “I don’t like lawyers.”

“Sorry, sweetie, that excuse doesn’t fly.” She dropped to the
floor, then carried the plates to the sink. “I have a...” How exactly did she
describe Howard? “Well, a friend I’d like you to talk to.”

Following her, Devin took the plates from her hand, then lifted
her onto the counter while he cleaned up. “Who?”

Distracted by Devin’s bare back—how hot was a half-naked guy
doing dishes?—Calla had to stare at the ceiling before she could think again.
“Howard Bleaker. He’s a criminal defense attorney here in the city.”

Devin dried his hands on a towel. “Shaky little dark-haired guy
with glasses? I’ve seen him at the courthouse.”

“What he lacks in confidence and appearance, he makes up for
with brilliance.”

“Why did you hesitate before you called him a friend?”

No way around the truth. Howard would never keep his admiration
of her under wraps. She nearly regretted bringing up his name at all, but
Victoria was right, they could trust Howard and he was in the price range. “I
went out with him a few times. I wanted to be friends. He wanted more.”

Devin crossed his arms over his chest. “You want me to hire
your ex-boyfriend as my lawyer?”

“Howard was not a boyfriend.”

“You dated him.”

“Twice.” The fierce look in Devin’s eyes made her pulse
flutter. “Problem?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She stretched out her legs, hooking them around his waist and
pulling him toward her. “Why? Jealous?”

“I don’t get jealous.”

“Not ever?” She flicked her tongue over his earlobe. “I think
possessiveness is hot.”

“Not usually,” he quickly clarified.

“I could give you a minute-by-minute account of our dates.”

“Please don’t.”

Calla’s attention shifted to the floor, where Sharky sat,
making noises, looking either ticked off or hungry. Probably both. “We need to
get him a bell or something.”

Devin picked up the cat and asked, “Eggs or oatmeal?”

“He’s a guy. He wants eggs.”

When she leaped off the counter and started toward the fridge,
Devin snagged her hand. “Thanks for the suggestion about a lawyer. I’ll think
about it, okay?”

Squeezing his hand, she smiled. “Good. You’ll like—”

A phone ringing stopped her comment. “It’s mine,” Devin said,
retrieving his cell from the counter. “Antonio.”

The conversation was brief, and the strain on Devin’s face
spoke volumes. “I’ll be there” were his last words before disconnecting. He
shoved his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, stroked the cat then handed
Sharky to her. “I have to go.”

“So I gathered. Where?”

“The station. Reid wants to talk to me again.”

She set the cat on the floor in front of a plate of eggs she’d
saved. “I’m coming with you.”

“No. You have work to do.”

“Devin—”

“They won’t let you in the interrogation room.” He kissed her,
an absent gesture, as his mind was clearly on the meeting with Reid. “I’ll call
you later.”

“At least let me call Howard,” she said, following him down the
hall.

“No. I’m not under arrest. It’s a routine questioning.”

She didn’t believe that for a second. Why did he? “But
Devin—”

He turned, irritation plain in his eyes.

“You might want to put on a shirt first,” she suggested.

* * *

D
EVIN
SAT
IN
THE
HARD
metal-framed
chair with his hands folded on the table in front of him. He knew very well he
was being watched through the two-way mirror. He was grateful they couldn’t see
into his thoughts.

He was in big trouble.

As if waking up in an alley with a beaten-all-to-hell thief
lying beside him hadn’t been enough.

They had plenty of evidence for a solid case against him.
Planted evidence, but it had been accomplished thoroughly and swiftly. He’d
admire the skill if it wasn’t his ass on the line.

Who would go to so much trouble? And why?

The door swung open and Lieutenant Meyer entered the room.
“They’re going to arrest you.”

“I figured,” Devin said calmly, though his stomach
tightened.

“Call a lawyer.”

“Yeah.” Thinking of scrawny Howard, he winced, but he supposed
he couldn’t afford to be picky. “When is Reid coming?”

“Any minute. Detective—” Meyer stopped, shaking his head as he
braced his hands on the table. “
Devin,
you know I’ve
always supported you. You’re a good cop, a valuable asset to my team.”

“You know me,” Devin ground out, his temper firing. “I didn’t
do this. I’m being set up.”

“No kidding.” Lines of stress appeared on Meyer’s face that
weren’t there a few days ago. “But IAB’s under pressure from the chief.” He
sighed in disgust. “Dirty cops are bad publicity.”

Devin surged to his feet, sending the chair scooting across the
concrete floor. “I’m not a dirty cop!”

“I know. But whoever set this up did a damn good job. I’m
pushing Reid to continue the investigation, to continue looking into your closed
cases and find a motive for the framing. He’s a good cop, too.”

“Sorry if I don’t join you in the accolades.”

“This could work to your benefit. Whoever set this up might
relax when he hears about your arrest.”

“It’s not Jimmie.”

“I agree. Maybe Jimmie will back out of testifying. You know
how squirrelly he can be. Maybe he’ll give up his partner. Maybe one or both
will make a mistake. We need more time to get to the bottom of all this.”

“Is that why Reid’s doing it?”

Meyer shrugged. “Not sure. He doesn’t give much away. And since
he’s IAB...”

“The case file is sealed to all other cops.”

“Exactly.” Meyer laid his hand on Devin’s shoulder. “I don’t
need the file to work this on my own. Quietly.”

Devin wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn that kind of
commitment and risk except close a lot of cases. If Reid found out Meyer was
honing in on his case, Meyer would find himself in front of a disciplinary panel
before he could blink. “Thanks,” he said lamely. “I’d appreciate you passing on
whatever you hear.”

Meyer winked. “I imagine between the three of us, we can clear
up this mess in no time.”

Only three? Hell, I’ve got a whole gang,
boss.

“Cheer up, Detective. It’s not all fingerprints, mug shots and
arraignments today. Your girlfriend’s here.”

“I don’t have—” He stopped.
Calla.
Closing his eyes, he tried to use the beauty of her image to calm himself.

“She and another woman are pacing the lobby,” Meyer added.
“I’ll send her back.”

“No!” Realizing his command came out as fear, Devin clarified,
“Tell her to go home. I’ll call her later.”

“You can actually say no to her?” Meyer asked, seeming
impressed.

Devin shook his head.
Not so
far.

As Meyer left the room, Reid entered. With no fanfare and in a
rigidly professional voice, he told Devin he was under arrest and recited the
standard warnings.

Devin heard him as if he were underwater and Reid above. A
defense mechanism, no doubt. An effort for his mind to reject what his body was
absorbing.

When Reid pulled handcuffs from his pocket, Devin clenched his
fists. “Is this really necessary, Lieutenant?”

“It’s procedure,” he said, rounding Devin so he could snap them
around his wrists.

As he was led from the room, Devin wondered where Reid’s backup
was hiding. If he was such a flight risk, shouldn’t he be surrounded? He was
half tempted to struggle or even knee Reid in the gut and run. Instead, he
tamped down his rage, channeling it for the moment he got his hands on the creep
framing him.

Now, more than ever, he needed to lead with cold, hard facts.
Not passion.

Though that plan went straight into the crapper the moment Reid
led him into the hall.

Awaiting him there were Calla, Shelby and Howard Bleaker,
munchkin attorney-at-law.

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