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Kill Without Shame Page 9
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If she had a brain in her head she’d tell him to take his ugly insinuations and get the hell out of the office.
Instead, she stepped into his trap with her eyes wide open.
“Curious about what?”
“How a man who worked a few months a year could afford to pay rent on his condo, not to mention buy a brand-new Ford pickup.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ve managed to uncover the not-so-secret fact that Tony was dealing drugs on the side.”
“I heard,” he said with a brief nod. “Which was why I checked with the narcotics unit. They recognized Tony’s name, but they assured me he was nothing more than a small-time user who occasionally made deliveries for free weed.” He took another sip of his coffee, giving her time to process his words. “Nothing that could possibly keep him in condos and new vehicles.”
Taylor tapped her finger on the desk, realizing she’d never given much thought to how Tony managed to live without a full-time job.
“When he was young he used to get into trouble for petty theft,” she at last said. “I think all the Hughes boys spent some time in juvie for having sticky fingers.”
“Did he ever steal from your employer?”
Taylor widened her eyes, genuinely surprised by the question. “I doubt it,” she instantly said. “Mia was the only one Tony could turn to when he was in trouble. I don’t think he’d ever do anything to hurt her.”
He looked unconvinced. “People will do all sorts of things when they’re desperate.”
It was true. Taylor had seen firsthand what panic could do to people. Still, she truly believed that Tony would lay down his life for Mia.
And maybe he had....
Her heart twisted with pain.
“I’m not saying that Tony wouldn’t break the law. I just don’t think he’d hurt Mia,” she clarified, forcing herself to rise to her feet. The thought of Tony lying dead on the street was a dark cloud on an already crappy day. Besides, she wanted the detective gone before Mia returned to the office. She had enough to worry about. “Did you have any other questions?”
He took a long minute before he answered. “None that can’t wait.”
“I should get back to work. . . .” She let her words trail away, watching as he rose to his feet.
Expecting him to turn away, Taylor was caught off guard when he instead took a step toward the desk. His gaze skimmed over her face, examining each feature with a fierce concentration that made her heart miss a beat.
“I’ve seen you before, you know,” he abruptly said.
She studied him in confusion. “Excuse me?”
He smiled, this one genuine enough to warm his brown eyes. “My brother works with juvenile offenders. During the summer months he organizes a baseball team to keep them off the streets. I help out when I can.”
It took a second for Taylor to sort through the various summer league teams she coached against.
Then she recalled the team that had won the pennant last year. Some of the kids had laughed at the players who couldn’t afford official uniforms or expensive cleats. At least until they were on the diamond, getting their butts tromped.
“Oh.” She gave a nod. “The Cajun Bombers.”
Brian wrinkled his nose. “My brother’s name for the team, not mine.”
She shrugged. “He’s a good coach.”
“He is,” her companion readily agreed. “He has a talent for working with kids.” There was a deliberate pause. “Just like you.”
A renegade excitement fluttered through her stomach. An enticing, dangerous sensation that she hadn’t felt in years.
She squared her shoulders. “Now what do you want?”
“Nothing.” He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I swear, Taylor. I just think you do an amazing job with your son.”
Heat touched her cheeks. Nothing mattered more to her than to be a good mother. Something this man was sure to have sensed.
“Right,” she muttered.
He studied her for a long beat, then with a rueful shake of his head, he headed across the room. He glanced over his shoulder as he pushed open the door. “Someday you’ll trust me,” he murmured.
She tilted her chin. “Doubtful.”
“We’ll see.”
He strolled out the door, his words hanging in the air.
A promise or a threat?
Taylor licked her dry lips, wondering why the gloomy day suddenly seemed so much brighter.
Chapter Eight
Lucas stood at the side of the building, waiting for Mia to make a dash to her car.
His first instinct had been to follow her into the grimy shop. He didn’t like her being out of his sight. Not even if it was a public place in the middle of the day.
Besides, he was quite certain she was trying to do some secretive snooping.
Mia had many fine qualities, but she would never earn a living as a spy. His lips twitched with amusement. She couldn’t have been more obvious as she’d strolled to her car with an exaggerated nonchalance. Even her refusal to glance in his direction had warned him that she was up to something.
But while he’d been unable to resist the need to hover near the door where he could hear if she shouted for help, he’d grimly forced himself to stay outside.
It’d been fifteen years since he’d lived in Shreveport, but he hadn’t forgotten what it meant to carry the name of St. Clair. Either people were embarrassingly eager to please him, or they clammed up and eyed him with blatant suspicion.
No one was actually comfortable in his presence. Just one of the many reasons he hadn’t returned home after the war.
Now he understood the only way Mia was going to get any information was if he stayed out of her way.
Something that had become more vital when Teagan had called after running a background check on the auto shop to say that Tony’s older brother worked there as a mechanic.
Shivering at the sharp breeze that easily sliced through his leather jacket, he breathed a sigh of relief as Mia at last appeared around the side of the building. With three long strides he was standing directly in her path.
“Done?” he asked.
She came to a reluctant halt, her hand lifting to brush back the curl that danced over her cheek.
“I run a business, I’m never done.”
“Okay.” He refused to react to her sharp words. She was clearly angling for an argument. Instead, he offered a coaxing smile. “Are you ready for lunch?”
“I usually have a yogurt at my desk.”
“Not today.”
She scowled. “Not your decision to make.”
He folded his arms over his chest. She was stubborn. But he was devious. And he was fully prepared to use whatever weapons necessary.
“I have info on the shooting, but I absolutely refuse to share it watching you eat yogurt at your desk,” he said in tones that warned her that there would be no negotiation.
Her eyes narrowed. “Blackmail?”
He shrugged. “Whatever works.”
A tense silence pulsed between them as Mia visibly battled between her urge to tell him to go to hell and the urgency to discover what he’d learned.
At last she heaved a resigned sigh. “There’s a diner—”
“We should go back to your house,” he smoothly interrupted. He knew she was busy running her small empire, but he was selfish enough to insist on having some time alone with his woman. “We need privacy for this discussion.”
Clearly annoyed, she sent him a warning glare. “I’m not cooking for you.”
“No problem. I’ll stop and pick something up.”
He glanced down at her cheeks, which were flushed a light pink. The cold? Or excitement? He was hoping for excitement. “Deal?”
“Fine,” she muttered, accepting she’d been outmaneuvered.
He waited until she was sliding into her vehicle before he called out. “Mia.”
She frowned at him with seething impatience. �
�What now?”
“When you get home, wait in your car with the doors locked until I can do a search of the house.”
Mia clenched her teeth, no doubt wishing she had her friend’s stun gun handy, but astonishingly she didn’t argue. Instead she slammed shut the car door and backed out of the lot with a tiny spray of mud.
With a wry smile, Lucas jogged back to his sports car, easily finding a nearby drive-through where he picked up a salad and a large muffuletta they could split, along with two sweet teas.
Then, gunning his engine, he managed to make it to Mia’s before she could convince herself that she didn’t have to wait for any stupid male.
Parking behind her, he grabbed the bags of food and crawled out of his car. Mia was already at the front porch by the time he crossed the yard, using her key to open the front door.
“Stay here,” he commanded, dumping the food in her arms as he pulled his gun and headed into the house.
Moving room to room, he checked the windows and in the closets, making sure no one had been in the house. Only when he was convinced that it was safe did he return to the living room to face a smoldering Mia.
“You’re even bossier than you were fifteen years ago,” she muttered, stomping into the kitchen to place the food on the table.
Lucas followed behind her, putting away his gun before taking a seat.
“I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect you,” he said without apology.
With a roll of her eyes, she poured the tea into glasses and collected real silverware to replace the plastic. Then, taking her seat, she ignored her salad and sent him an expectant glance.
“So, what did you discover?”
Lucas divided the sandwich, sliding a small portion in her direction. It was a game they’d played since high school. Mia would insist all she wanted was a salad, and then would grab whatever he was eating. Pizza. French fries. Hamburgers.
Watching as she absently picked up the sandwich and nibbled at the edge, he leaned forward. “First I need your promise.”
She stiffened, her jaw clenching as if sensing she’d been set up. “What promise?”
He took a large bite of his sandwich, sighing in pleasure at the tart taste of olive salad mixed with freshly baked bread. Swallowing, he took a drink of the tea before he answered.
“If I include you in my investigation, then you have to share with me what you learn.”
Her eyes widened before she was trying to pretend that she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“How could I learn anything?”
“Okay.” He took another bite of his sandwich. “You don’t want to work together. . . .”
He allowed his words to trail away, not surprised when she muttered a low curse.
“You are such a pain.”
He held her gaze. “You’ll share?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “Now tell me what you know.”
Lucas took another bite before giving in to her command. Not to be an ass. He was genuinely hungry.
Odd. He’d had thousands of meals since leaving Shreveport, but somehow sharing the simple lunch with Mia stirred his appetite as nothing else could.
And not just for food, he acknowledged, feeling himself hardening in response to being so close to Mia.
Just the sweet scent of her shampoo was enough to set him on fire.
With an effort he forced himself to concentrate on what he’d learned from his recent conversation with the ARES office.
“The official coroner’s report hasn’t been issued, but the cause of death was a gunshot to his chest,” he told her. “It went straight through his heart.”
“God.” Mia squeezed her eyes shut, forced to accept the full horror of Tony’s death. Lucas wished he could protect her, but he knew that if she discovered he was holding back information she would poke around without him. This morning had already proved she wouldn’t stay in her office and let the professionals take care of the investigation. “How awful.”
“At least it was quick,” he assured her in low tones. It’d been the first thing he’d asked. “He didn’t suffer.”
“I’m glad for that,” she murmured, blinking back her tears. “Tony suffered enough.”
Lucas nodded. He’d never fully understood the demons that seemed to haunt the younger man, but he’d always sensed them beneath Tony’s bluster. “Agreed,” he said.
With an effort she regained command of her composure, wiping away her tears.
“We know how he died, but it doesn’t really help us,” she pointed out. “Anyone could have shot him.”
He leaned forward, situating the salad directly in front of her.
“Actually it does help.”
Absently she resumed eating. “How?”
He polished off his sandwich before he answered.
“Tony was shot point-blank,” he said. “Which means he knew who murdered him.”
She sent him a surprised glance. “You can’t be sure.”
“Tony might not have been well educated, but he was street smart.” He held her wide gaze. “He would never have let anyone get that close to him unless he trusted them.”
She gave a nod, conceding his point. “Who could he know in Houston?”
“Besides me?” Lucas shrugged. “I have Teagan checking on any connections.”
“Teagan?”
He smiled at the thought of his friend. From the amount of files he’d been sending Lucas, it was obvious he’d been at the office 24/7 gathering intel. The cunning hacker had the tenacity of a bloodhound when he was focused on a goal.
Not for the first time Lucas sent up a prayer of thanks that Rafe had managed to convince the younger man to join ARES.
“One of my partners,” he said.
Mia blinked in confusion. “How is he checking?”
“Family relations. Phone records. Credit card transactions.”
Her confusion became astonishment. “You have access to those things?”
“Yeah, but it’s better if you don’t mention that to the detective,” he said in dry tones. “Sometimes Teagan works in that gray area outside the law.”
She studied him with raised brows. “And you?”
He leaned back in his chair. There would have been a time in his life when he would have said there was no excuse to break the law. Now he understood that nothing was ever black-and-white.
“I respect the rules,” he said, sending his companion a wry grin. “As long as they don’t get in my way.”
For a brief second her lips twitched, almost as if she’d forgotten that she was supposed to hate him. Then, all too soon, the shadows returned to her eyes.
“Did you learn anything else?”
He swallowed a sigh. It would take time to rebuild the trust he’d destroyed.
“The cops found a receipt in Tony’s truck from a gas station in Corrigan he was at a few hours before he was shot,” he said.
“He was driving from Shreveport,” Mia murmured. Corrigan was on Highway 59 between Shreveport and Houston.
Lucas nodded. The receipt proved that Tony hadn’t been staying in Houston.
“That would be my guess,” he said, not pointing out that Tony was probably followed by his killer. She was smart enough to figure it out by herself.
She reached for the sandwich he’d shared, taking a large bite as she silently considered what he’d revealed.
“It must have been an impulsive trip,” she finally said.
Lucas studied her with a lift of his brows. “Why do you say that?”
“His brother Quinn manages a gas station in Shreveport,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Tony keeps an open tab there.”
Lucas nodded. An “open tab” meant that Tony never bothered to pay his bill. Which meant that he would never leave on a planned road trip without filling up with free gas.
“Very clever,” he murmured, eyeing Mia with open appreciation.
She shrugged, a blush staining her cheeks. “I have
my moments.”
Not giving her time to realize what he was doing, Lucas was out of his chair and moving around the table.
“I remember,” he murmured in husky tones, reaching to grasp her upper arms and tug her to her feet. Lowering his head, he buried his face in the curve of her neck. “And your moments are glorious.”
* * *
Mia shuddered in pleasure.
It felt so good to have him tug her against his hard body. The heat. The brush of his lips. The wet touch of his tongue over her racing pulse.
She swallowed a moan as a sizzle of raw arousal zapped through her.
She’d agreed to this lunch to learn what Lucas had discovered about Tony’s murder. Not to . . .
Her thoughts evaporated in a haze of bliss as he nibbled a path of kisses along the neckline of her dark green sweater that she’d matched with a pair of black slacks.
Reaching up, she grasped his shoulders. Her knees were threatening to buckle as his hands skimmed up her sides, gently cupping her breasts, which were heavy with need.
She wanted him to rip off her sweater. She ached to feel his lips against her bare skin and his fingers tormenting the sensitive tips of her breasts.
It’d been so long.
He murmured something beneath his breath, his head lifting so he could seek out her mouth in a kiss that demanded surrender. Her nails dug into his arms, her lips parting to allow his tongue to slip between them.
The taste of him was achingly familiar.
With lethal ease the years faded away. In this moment she was once again the young, eager Mia who embraced life, and Lucas, without fear.
His thumbs stroked the soft mounds of her breasts before moving to circle the hardened nipples. Mia trembled, her moan lost in his heated kiss.
Increasingly restless, Lucas pressed the growing length of his arousal against her lower stomach.
The delicious image of being perched on the edge of the table with Lucas between her spread legs seared through her mind.
It would be so easy. . . .
The sudden sound of a dog barking next door jerked Mia out of the fog of erotic sensations.
God. Was she out of her mind?
Pressing her hands against his chest, she arched back. “No. Lucas,” she breathed, ignoring the stinging frustration that raced through her body. “We can’t do this.”