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BAIT by Mia Carson (63)

Chapter 12

The mug burned her palms, but Chris maintained her tight hold on it. The hot liquid had burned her tongue, drinking it in her haste to wake herself up and refocus her mind to the tasks still ahead. If Sarge was coming over personally, he’d either found something he needed to discuss with her in person, or he was going take her with him. She could very well be facing down Simone today, and if that were the case, she couldn’t let thoughts of Tim distract her. Including what she heard him whisper as she fell asleep the night before. Those few words settled over her like a warm blanket, and she nearly said them back, but her fear stopped her in her tracks. Too soon. It was far too soon to say those words, at least for her.

Tim exited her bedroom, his hair damp from his shower and dressed in the same clothes as the day before. They would have to have Manny bring him some clothes soon. She straightened, the urge to admit she had heard his confession and she had one to make herself prompting her to speak, but a loud knock sounded at the door followed by Sarge calling out to her.

“There’s coffee,” she told Tim and went to open the door. Sarge and Manny stood there. “Well now, this isn’t what I like to see in the morning.”

“Very funny,” Merriweather uttered, moving past her. Manny ruffled her hair like always. “I come bearing a gift, so don’t get so snappy with me. Otherwise, I’ll take Manny with me instead and he can tell you all about it.”

Chris rolled her eyes as she pulled out two more mugs for them. “You know how to strike through the heart, don’t you?”

“Years of practice. Tim, how are you holding up?” Merriweather asked as he shook the man’s hand. “She’s not driving you crazy yet, is she?”

“Depends on what you mean by crazy,” he murmured, grinning over his coffee mug.

Chris was unable to resist smiling back. Manny glanced between them and whistled. “Well, would you look at that? I think our fair, hard-ass, hard-headed detective just landed herself a new lover boy.”

Chris blushed and punched Manny in the arm. He winced and held up his fists in a boxing stance as she went to knock him again.

“About time,” Merriweather whispered under his breath.

Tim choked on his coffee, and Chris’ mouth fell open. Manny chuckled, ruffling her hair until she shoved his hand away. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“Please tell me only you two know about this?” she grumbled, grimacing when she thought what her next trip into the station would be like. “Sarge?”

He stepped from one foot to the other, looking extremely uncomfortable, but it was Manny who replied, “Well, if you didn’t have such a set of lungs on you, then yeah, it’d only be us two. Tony said he heard quite the showdown the past two nights, and Mark couldn’t stop blushing when he was relieved yesterday afternoon.”

Chris groaned, her head falling to her arms on the counter. “Fucking fantastic.”

“You’re lucky none of them decided to record the audio. Kudos, man,” Manny said and fist-bumped Tim as he vibrated with laughter and tried to keep quiet. Chris glared at them both, promising payback in some shape or form.

“Can we please stop talking about my sex life with Tim?” she begged.

“Yes, please,” Merriweather seconded. The seriousness in his expression had Chris straightening and ready to grab her boots and jacket. “We found an address linked to the car. I have sent a few men there to scout it out. There’s no sign of Dowell there, but I thought you might want to check it out for yourself. If you promise to behave.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“That does nothing to make me feel better. You weren’t a scout,” he muttered.

“When do we leave?” she asked eagerly.

“Fifteen minutes. Get yourself dressed and ready, Chris. We’re one step closer to nailing this guy, I hope.”

Chris drained her coffee mug and darted into her bedroom, brushing her hand against Tim’s along the way so he would follow. When they were alone, she closed and, for good measure, locked her bedroom door so Manny wouldn’t feel the need to be an ass and embarrass her further.

“You think it’s safe?” Tim asked, watching as she sat on the edge of the bed holding her boots.

“If they cleared it, then yeah, it should be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced and leaned his hip against her dresser as he crossed his arms. “Is it too cheesy of me to ask you to come back to me alive and in one piece?”

She smiled sweetly, touched by the commanding tone in his words. “Of course not.”

“Good, then come back to me alive and in one piece.”

She trusted the other detectives to clear the house, but her gut roiled. She didn’t ignore her instincts, and they were broadcasting loud and clear something about this situation stunk. Why was it now, after four years, Simone was coming after her? And leaving the car with his prints was sloppy, as was a trail to the house. The more she considered the facts laid out for her, the more her worry grew.

“Chris? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just… would it be cheesy of me to say I don’t want to leave you?”

“You think it’s a trap?” he whispered.

She shrugged. “It gets me away from you, but you’ll have Manny and the other officers outside. I’m probably being paranoid. I always have been when it came to anything involving this asshole.”

He held her hand and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“That’s only words. If they’re coming for you and I’m not here… if something happens to you…”

“Nothing will happen to me.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her hotly. “I’ll be right here when you’re finished, promise.”

She clung to him, fear of losing another man she cared for—probably loved—eating at her. She nearly burst through the door to tell Sarge to go without her, but she had to do this. He offered her a chance to get closer to Jeff’s killer, and if she wanted to truly move on and be with Tim, tracking that murderer down and finishing this once and for all was the only way to do it. The kiss intensified as she tore at his shirt. Tim obliged her, helping her undo her jeans and giving them both a chance to express their unspoken feelings, or at least hers, for the other before she left. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the far bedroom wall. Her fingers tugging on his beard, he pressed his shaft against her, hot and hard for her. The moment he penetrated her body, she gasped, holding fast to his shoulders as they came together in a moment of desperation.

Chris had sensed foreboding many times in her job, but this was the first time she feared she would never see Tim again. If she was to go today, she wanted to feel him one last time and let his warmth, his love, carry through whatever came next.

“Tim,” she gasped, trying to stay quiet as he plunged into her and the pleasure built between them. She scrunched her face and kissed him, hoping he understood what he meant to her without having to use words. They stuck in her throat, and as they reached their peak together, him kissing her to swallow her cries as he groaned, their bodies shuddering, she could not speak the words he needed to hear from her.

“You better come back to me,” he demanded fiercely. “Promise me, Chris.”

“Promise,” she said, hugging him close.

They separated and he set her softly on her feet, fixing her hair for her as she caught her breath. They cleaned themselves up and she zipped up her knee-high boots, picked up her leather jacket, and holstered her gun at her side. Tim’s eyes stayed on her during the entire process, flickering to her gun and badge. His face stiffened and the muscles in his neck strained, but he remained silent.

“Ready?” Merriweather asked when they exited her room.

From the way Manny was grinning, she and Tim were clearly not quiet enough. When she reached Manny, she paused and tugged him down so she could whisper in his ear. “Keep him safe for me, please.”

“I’ll do my best,” he swore. “We’ll be seeing you, Chris.”

She squeezed his hand and followed Sarge out the door, not once looking back. If she did, she might not leave at all.

* * *

Sarge parked the black SUV outside a house surrounded by empty lots near the edge of the city.

“This is it?” she asked, observing the other police vehicles there and the caution tape they had placed to keep curious bystanders away from the structure.

“Yeah, not much to look at.”

The small brick house crumbled at the corners, and the second floor appeared completely caved in, judging by the sagging roof. If she was simply walking by, she would have assumed no one lived there except maybe squatters. However, fresh tire tracks were evident in the mud, and when they stepped inside, it was clear someone had been living in the usable rooms.

“Shit, you think he’s been here?”

“Maybe,” he replied. “I don’t want to think he was right under our noses the whole time.”

“If I hadn’t gone off on that Maya girl, I guess we would know how she’d met Simone in the first place.”

“Actually, I think we found that out.” He led the way down the short hall to one of the bedrooms, the door hanging by a single hinge. The room was orderly, and Sarge reached down to pick up a dinner invitation. “It appears Ginghum’s brother, Simone Dowell—different fathers—was invited to a function by Mr. Ginghum. She was there as one of the many freshly graduated students hoping for a job.”

Chris took the invitation, dated four years ago. “You sure she was there?”

“They kept a roster of all who’d attended. A few weeks later, she was interviewed and hired.”

“And no one has spoken to Mr. Ginghum yet?”

“If we bring him in for questioning too early, it might spook Dowell.”

He was right, but it didn’t stop Chris from thinking they should have brought him in anyway. If he had anything to do with the attempts on Tim’s life, he was fair game as far as she was concerned.

“If he was dating a girl like Maya, I doubt he brought her here.”

“We had the same thoughts. He has another address, probably under another name. You know how he works.”

“Sadly, I do.” She set the invitation down and shuffled through the rest of the papers.

Most of them were articles about Mr. Ginghum, keeping tabs on his brother, but the others were about Tim and the amount of wealth he’d managed to bring in within a matter of years. His company as a whole was worth nearly ten-billion dollars. If that was the case, Dowell was only getting started. He would go after the rest of the funds, and getting one of the lower end partners out of the way would get him and his brother one step closer.

“Sarge?” an officer called from the other end of the house. He and Chris hurried towards the woman holding up a stack of photos.

“What is it?” Chris asked, taking them from her.

“Sorry, Detective Harrison, but you’re not going to like it.”

She backed away as if afraid Chris would lose her temper and take it out on her. She flipped the folder open and clenched her teeth so hard she was surprised they didn’t crack in her mouth. Staring back at her were photos that had clearly been collected over the years. They started with her and Jeff on duty, walking around the city, spending their time together in public. When she reached the close-up shots of her and Jeff inside her apartment, she gagged, her stomach flopping as her hands shook in rage.

“He spied on us,” she snarled. “He was across from my window!”

Sarge drew out his cell and dialed. “Manny? Keep Tim away from the windows until I say otherwise. We have a development, and it’s not a good one. Thanks.”

Chris hardly heard him as she flipped through a few more photos taken of her and Jeff through her bedroom window. The next few were only of her, looking pissed off at the world. She reached the last one and prayed that was it, but Sarge cursed. Her head shot up and watched him open a cabinet on the far wall.

“What?” she snapped.

He didn’t say anything, simply stepped aside and let her see for herself. Pictures of her and Tim covered the inside of the cabinet, both of their faces X’d out in red marker. Wherever Dowell was, he still had plans for her, no matter what he did with the money.

“We have to find him,” she seethed. “We have to before he gets to Tim.”

“Or you,” Merriweather growled. “I’m not losing another detective to that bastard. I want this place torn apart! We need to find his latest location. Put patrols out on the streets to look for him. If he shows up, we’re going to catch the son of a bitch!”

Chris listened as the officers and detectives flooded into the tiny house, going through every drawer and every stack of papers, searching for any clue as to where he was. The faces of her and Tim drew her gaze constantly. For four years, she’d told herself this man had taken everything from her.

Clearly, she was wrong. Dead wrong.

* * *

Tim paced around the apartment, tired of watching TV. “It’s nearly six in the evening,” he complained to Manny. “Was it supposed to take this long?”

“Depends on what they found.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why I need to stay away from the windows?”

“No. Look, you have to be patient. She’ll be back.” Manny’s words sounded reassuring, but his hand had not left his gun since he’d received a phone call hours ago from someone. Tim assumed it was Merriweather or Chris telling him Tim was in more danger than they’d first assumed. “Why don’t we watch another movie?”

Tim’s lips thinned. “No, I’m good.”

“If walking around looking like you’re going to claw out through a brick wall is good, I’d love to see what you look like when you’re ecstatic.”

“What, I can’t worry about her?”

“You can, and I’m glad she has someone to worry about her who’s not one of us.”

Those few desperate moments before she left clung to his skin. She had tried to tell him something, and he couldn’t help thinking she was saying goodbye. As if she might not come back as she’d promised.

“Holy shit, you love her, don’t you?” Manny exclaimed so loudly Tim jumped.

He rubbed his hand over his face and shrugged as if admitting he loved her was the most casual thing in the world. “So what if I do?”

“Love at first sight?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows. “Hey, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Far from it. That woman needs love in her life again. Jeff’s death tore her up something fierce.”

“I know, she told me about it,” he sighed. “I lost people before, but never someone I loved like that. I’m surprised she let me in.”

“If she let you in and she hasn’t decked you yet, I think you’re fine.”

Tim nodded. “I hope so.”

“Give her time, but not too much time. She’ll run on you if you let her.”

“I thought she hadn’t been with anyone since Jeff?”

“I didn’t say she had. She ran from the city, from her friends. Took off for nearly a year and no one could find her,” Manny grunted. “We finally got a call from her brother saying she’d been with him and would head back to the city once he deployed again.”

“She didn’t tell me that part.”

He huffed, peering out the eyehole of the front door as he passed by, doing one of his hourly walks around the apartment. “Well, she did, and scared the shit out of all of us, especially Sarge. I’ve never seen him so relieved and pissed at the same time when she trudged back into the station that day, broken and begging to keep her job.”

“But not as a homicide detective,” he commented.

“No, she wasn’t in any shape to deal with murderers.”

“And now?”

Manny shrugged his beefy shoulders. “I guess we’ll see after this ends.”

If it ever does. Tim drummed his fingers on the kitchen island, glancing at the clock again with an annoyed groan. Ready to give in to Manny’s suggestion and throw on another movie, he barely sat down on the couch when his cell dinged with a message. “It’s Chris,” he told Manny. “She says they found something and want us to meet them at the Jones building downtown in an hour.”

Manny checked the message for himself. “Give her a call and double check.”

Tim did as he asked, but it went straight to voicemail. “It didn’t ring.” Another text came in a moment later and said her reception was spotty and she wouldn’t be able to call him to give him details, but it was good news. “Well, I guess whatever they found is going to lead to the end of this mess,” he said and showed the message to Manny.

“Huh. Hang on.” He unlocked the front door and poked his head into the hall. Tim heard him talking with the officer out there, and when he pulled his head back in, his annoyed expression let Tim know something was up. “I guess we’ll head over there in an hour.”

“What did the other officer say?”

“Said Sarge requested they pull back to the house they went to investigate since you and I are going to be leaving here soon.” His phone chirped and he nodded. “And there’s the order from Sarge. I guess we have an hour to kill. The Red Sox are on tonight, let’s check the game out.”

Tim obliged him, turning on the game, and they sat down on the couch to watch. It would have held his interest any other time, but not tonight. His chest tight with apprehension, he wondered why they would ask him to go the office unless they’d found a way to keep Sal there and were going in to question him, maybe even arrest him. Nick would know if the other partner was staying late, so he texted him. He waited until the time he and Manny needed to leave, but Nick never got back to him.

Nick always texted him back.

“I guess we’ll get you downtown,” Manny said, turning off the TV.

Tim tried calling Chris when they were in Manny’s car, but it went straight to voicemail. Silence filled the car, both men’s anxiety clear. When they’d reached the building and stepped out, Tim looked for Ernie, the evening security guard, but he wasn’t at the front door. He went on duty at five when people started to head home for the night.

“Tim?”

“The night guard—he’s usually at the door.”

“Maybe he had to hit the bathroom.”

“Maybe.” Now, Tim was being paranoid. Nothing was wrong. They would walk inside and Chris would be there, waiting for him to guide her to Sal’s office. They’d arrest the guy, get a lead on the other man they were after, and everyone would go home happy.

They were barely a few steps inside the lobby when Tim’s feet refused to keep moving. This wasn’t right. His gaze shot around the lobby, and he spotted a hand peeking out from around the corner.

“Ernie!” he yelled and sprinted over to the man’s prone body.

Manny was right behind him, his hand on his radio when he grunted and sank to the floor, his eyes crossing. Another loud thud hit him hard, and he collapsed in an unconscious heap. Tim reached for Manny’s gun, but another figure appeared out of the corner of his eye. A heavy object whacked him on the back of the head and everything went black as he fell, hitting the floor hard.

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