Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1) (22 page)

Max

I sigh with relief when everyone files out of my room and I finally have a moment to myself. I wipe my sweaty palms over my jeans and take deep, calming breaths as I head to my bathroom and wait for the water to heat up for my shower. I take a long shower, letting the warm water cascade over my tight shoulder and neck muscles as I visualize my strategy for the evening.

I need to be on my toes tonight. I want to get a good read on Liam when I tell him the killer contacted me about those pearls. As I dry off, I’m grappling with the fact that Valerie still seems convinced that Liam stole them from me. I have a lot of respect for Valerie and would never dismiss her opinion out of hand. And he certainly had opportunity; he could have taken the pearls off my neck when he helped me with my wrap as we left the restaurant. But wouldn’t I have noticed? The big question is motive. Why would he want to mind fuck me like that?

I wrap a towel around me and stand in front of my closet, pondering my next move: wardrobe. I don’t want to look eager but I also don’t want to be buttoned up like a nun. Black skinny jeans with heels and a satin magenta top with pink trim – that’ll work. I love this top. It flows yet still clings to my curves just enough to maybe be a distraction. No way am I’m going out with a guy who dresses like he models for a men’s magazine and not look my best. Some light makeup and a swipe of lip gloss and I’m ready to get dressed.

As I rummage through my underwear drawer I remind myself that, even if I don’t think Liam did it, I have to stay on my guard because in this line of work anything is possible. I find the set I’m looking for and, as I slip on the sheer ivory lace bra and matching panties, my thoughts return to Spider. I have to laugh because, honestly, I’m more inclined to believe
he
could kill someone. As if picking up on my thoughts, he knocks on the door and pushes it open without a word, sauntering in like he has every right to be here.

I freeze where I stand, my back arched, my hands lifting my damp hair up into a loose topknot that I had, only seconds earlier, decided would be too formal for a steak house. Thoughts of salad bars and free refills scatter along with all knowledge of the English language as I take in the view.

He’s the definition of a bad boy: muscles, ink, tight white t-shirt, skull cap, and five o clock shadow. In other words,
sex on a stick
. The guy is gorgeous and an arrogant ass -- the perfect recipe for trouble. And, judging by the flush of color on his high cheekbones and the way his black eyes are burning a slow path up and down my body, he likes what he sees.

The open door allows in a gust of cool air, which is certainly the only thing that could explain why my nipples have pebbled against the nearly transparent fabric of my bra. It couldn’t be because of him – after all, my nipples always get hard when it’s cold and--

Shit
! It finally registers in my shell-shocked brain that Spider is in my room and I’m wearing next to nothing. My hands abruptly drop to my sides, releasing a cascade of hair over my shoulders. Spider tracks the movement, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded and his nostrils flaring as he takes a purposeful step toward me.

It takes everything I have not to cross my arms over my chest and shriek at the top of my lungs for him to
get out
. Instead, I thrust my hand out in front of me, palm forward, and, yeah, position my other hand firmly over my peaked nipples – the little traitors. He stops in his tracks with a scowl, his lips pressed into a thin line as he narrows his eyes. With my heart thudding against my ribs, I twirl the index finger of my outstretched hand in a small circle in front of me, signaling him to turn around.

“Turn around right goddamn now, Spider,” I hiss, trying to sound as menacing as it is possible to sound when clad only in lingerie– and really sheer lingerie, at that. He stares at me for a long moment and I swear the air crackles between us. He pointedly stares at my panties and I realize that he probably sees the damp patch that has appeared at the juncture of my thighs. He meets my gaze with a knowing smile, takes one last look down south before putting his hands up in mock surrender and turning around.

“You got it, sweet cheeks,” he drawls.

I roll my eyes and get dressed in record time, not wanting to waste a second before I lay into him for barging into my room. All I need to do now is run a brush through my hair. I turn toward the dresser and am greeted by Spider’s indolent gaze in the mirror’s reflection.
Son of a bitch! I just can’t win with this guy.

“You said turn around. I turned around.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and purse my lips, beyond pissed that he treated himself to a spectacular view of my ass and everything in between when I slid into my jeans. I remind myself that murder is illegal for a reason. But, oh, if it weren’t…

Suddenly his black eyes are cutting through me accusingly. “You always break out the nice lingerie for a steak dinner? Do you have plans for later tonight that I should know about?”

“Fuck you, Spider,” I snap as I grab the hairbrush from the dresser and yank it through my hair. 

“If I didn’t know any better, Max, I’d almost think you’re more than just curious about the guy. Maybe you’re a little more uppity than you like to think you are.”

Spider’s eyeing me with a mixture of contempt and lust that’s confusing the hell out of me. He acts like he hates me most of the time. But now that he’s seen ‘the goods,’ he looks like he wants to throw me down and fuck me senseless. I face him with my hands on my hips in an attempt to regain a little dignity after my accidental strip show.

“Did you come here to rag on me or do your job?” I don’t give him time to answer before I continue, “You know, it’d be nice if you waited until I answered the door. Guess I’ll have to start locking it.”

The cocky smirk on his face lets me know that he’s about to make one of his smart ass remarks.

“Wouldn’t matter, sweet cheeks -- I’ve got my own set of keys.” I reach out to grab them and he does what a bully on a playground would do – he dangles them over his head, just out of my reach. Finally, he lowers them, only to jerk them back up when I make another attempt to get them.

“You’ve got no business with my room key!” I hiss through tight lips. This guy has a way of infuriating me like no other.

“I beg to differ
, sweet cheeks
—“

“Stop fucking calling me that!”

“Jack told me to watch you. So, really, I was only doing my job.”

That does it, I’m done. I snatch my purse off the bed and stomp around him toward the door. My breath catches in my throat when his hand locks like a vice grip on my upper arm and he pulls me none too gently toward him.

“Max, listen…” he starts, his eyes softening for just a moment before they meet fuming gaze and promptly go into a deep freeze. He releases my arm like he’s been burnt and storms out the door.

What the hell is wrong with this guy? I don’t have time for this now. I hustle out to my car and get in. As usual, the first thing I do is lock the doors. The second thing? I touch my fingertips to my neck, instinctively searching for a strand of pearls that isn’t there.

Max

I grab my purse, get out of the car, and make sure I lock it before I cross the parking lot. A chill runs through me as I remember the gruesome surprise I found in the front seat the one time I left it unlocked. It was the sick son of bitch’s way of telling me I better listen to him. He’s backing me into a corner and I don’t like it. I need to know who this guy is. Maybe tonight I’ll find out.

Once again Liam is waiting by the door. After leaning down to kiss my cheek, he opens the door for me and gestures for me to go in. The perfect gentleman, he is once again dressed in a dark suit with Italian leather designer shoes and all the accessories like cufflinks that go with it. He looks the part of a successful surgeon. The only question is, is he a successful serial killer too?

“You look beautiful. It intrigues me how easily you transform from a tomboy to a beautiful young woman.” He continues talking as we follow the hostess to a booth. “I’m certain you have your share of male suitors.”

“I’m not really interested in dating right now. I’ve got my hands full just focusing on my career.”

“I see.” He waits for me to slide in the booth before settling into his own seat. After we’ve ordered beverages he continues, “Then I’ll just consider myself lucky to be the man spending the evening with you.”

“To be perfectly honest with you, I see this as dinner with a friend. And if you’ll let me, I like to pick your brain again to help me with my research.”

His laughter warms me as his usual elegant composure takes on a light, relaxed air for a moment. We decide to order our drinks and food all at once to keep interruptions to a minimum. As the server departs with the menus, Liam gives me a steady, warm look, “No need to worry, Max, I assure you, your virtue’s safe with me. I’m not your garden variety lover when it comes to my sexual appetites anyway.”

I choke gloriously as I sip my water, and wave Liam off when he asks if I need any assistance.
What the hell did that mean?
As much as I’d like to explore that statement further, I remind myself that that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to find out if he’s The Riddler. I use the awkward moment to excuse myself to freshen up.

The sound of my heels clicking along the tile floor echoes off the wall. The restroom is around the corner at the end of the hall. My heart leaps in my chest when I make the turn and practically run into Spider. He’s glaring at me with his jaw clenched like he hates me, which makes absolutely no sense, really, because I’m pretty sure I haven’t had time to piss him off yet.

“Damn it, Spider,” I gasp as I clutch my chest and try to catch my breath. ”You’re supposed to be guarding me, not giving me a heart attack!”

“What fun would that be?”

“Don’t start with me.” I attempt to shimmy around him to get to the restroom door and freedom. Next thing I know, he’s crowding me and resting his massive hands on the wall, one by either side of my head. With me firmly caged in, he starts in on me.

“You gonna kiss him goodnight tonight, Max?” He leans in, using his rock hard frame to press me against the wall. “Gonna rub this tight little body of yours up against him?” I inhale harshly and prepare to call him out for being an ass, but I think better of it. Instead, I slip under his arm and grab the restroom door handle like a lifeline. As I shove my body weight against the door to open it, I swear I hear him growl behind me.

“You just remember, Max…I’ll be watching.” His voice starts out as an ominous rumble and then softens to something that sounds almost…gentle. My footsteps falter as I let the door swing shut behind me.

When I come out, Spider’s nowhere to be seen. For a second, I wonder if he left but I know he’d never do anything to let Jack down. I straighten my shoulders and take a deep breath. I pause in the doorway and shoot Liam a smile as I catch his eye. He’s the epitome of easygoing elegance as he sits alone at our table, only the brisk tapping of a foot revealing that he might not be quite as relaxed as he seems. I spot Spider sitting at the bar where he has an unobstructed view of our booth. Instead of crossing directly to the booth, I take a longer route, weaving through tables along the edge of the room – right by the bar – and pointedly ignore his sardonic gaze as I pass by.

The doctor stands as I approach the booth and I can’t help but smile at the courtly gesture, “You really are such a gentleman.”

“A lady should always be treated like the jewel she is.”

“And charming, too,” I tease.

“Oh, I assure you, Max, I have an edge when necessary.” The unexpected, steely edge to his voice convinces me that it’s true, but his smile is back as he takes his seat across from me.

We chat for a little while, talking about this and that, laughing at each other’s jokes and indulging in some light flirtation. Our food arrives and we dig in, enjoying a few minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence before we attempt a conversation of any real substance. It’s only been small talk up until now, if you discount his observation about his sexual eccentricities.

He eyes me appraisingly as he sips his water. When he sets the glass down, he stills and frowns slightly as he watches a stray drop of condensation slide down the length of the glass. Then he seems to come to some sort of decision, meets my curious gaze with a bright smile and relaxes back into the cushy booth seat. With his arm draped along the back of the seat, he has the look of a man who intends to stay a while.

“So…still no word about your missing pearls. That’s disappointing.”

“Well,” I say, clearing my throat, “I really didn’t want to talk about it over the phone when we spoke earlier, but a man claiming to be responsible for the recent killings contacted me via email.”

“Really? The one leaving the body parts all over the place?”

“Yes. He’s angry that I’m writing about him on my blog and not somehow including him, his side of things, I guess. It seems he feels slighted, as if I’ve insulted him by not including him in my blog.”

“It sounds like he’s developed a fixation on you. That could become a very dangerous situation if his behavior were to escalate.”

“You sound like a shrink,” I chuckle, trying to feign more courage than I’m feeling at the thought of being on a mad man’s radar.

“It’s a necessary evil in my line of work. “

“Oh, really? That surprises me.”

“There’s more to what I do than just repairing pieces and parts. An effective doctor must be able to read people. Patients don’t always reveal the true nature of their concerns. It can take a bit of effort to get at the truth.” He tilts his head to the side slightly before adding, “One must have patience to achieve the desired outcome.” A slight frown, then, “Any idea who it is?”

“My boss is investigating people who were denied medical licenses because of psychiatric problems. You know, I actually got the idea from you. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around how this guy could have held up under the pressure of medical school. It takes a very intelligent, resilient person to be successful there.”

“Glad to know I was of some help. However, surely you must realize you’re trying to reason with a man who’s mentally ill. The severity could depend on any number of things. What is at the heart of his instability? Could be anything, really – mommy issues, trust issues, a profound sense of betrayal, maybe even PTSD. Some past trauma could have shifted his foundation and his recent actions could be a manifestation of that break -- his way of trying to create a reality that meets his needs.

“The thing is,” he says as he leans forward and rests an elbow on the table, “your killer may not actually care if his reasons make sense to you; they only need to make sense to him.” He leans back and picks up his glass, tilting it toward me and pointing the index finger of that hand in my direction for emphasis, “Yes, something terribly dark must be driving this person to kill and desecrate the bodies like that. If you can connect with him, he may let his guard down. And
that
, lovely Max, is when you will find the truth.” He sips his water and sets the glass down again before clearing his throat. “Whether you’re ready for it or not.”

Liam seems fascinated with the case I’m researching. Time to drop the bomb. I run my fingertip around the rim of my glass and gaze up at him through my lashes. “Liam, he…well, he taunted me about having the pearls. He even attached a photograph. He stole the last memory I have of my mother and now he’s practically bragging about it.”

“That’s horrible, Max. I hope you do get them back, but if you don’t, you’ve gotta forge ahead. Focus on the here and now, you know?”

I’m caught off guard by the tears that suddenly well in my eyes. I accept the welcome warmth of his hand over mine as we sit in companionable silence until the server arrives to take our plates and tempt us with dessert.

As I glance up at the server, my attention is captured by the stony expression on Spider’s face as he watches the cozy scene unfold from his seat at the bar. A bottle of Corona is gripped loosely between his fingers, but the look in his eyes is anything but relaxed. Anger radiates from his rigid posture as he glares at me. I shift in my seat and cross my legs as I attempt a casual smile for Liam’s benefit.

I’m not sure what’s going on between me and Spider tonight. What I do know is that he needs to back the hell off. I may be more than a little intrigued by the tension that’s been building between us since he joined Jack’s team, but I can’t afford any distractions right now. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have my hands full trying to convince
him
of that, though.