Chapter 14
“We’re here to see Mickey Bogasz,” Jack informed the guard at the state penitentiary.
Scott shivered. This is where he could have been sent if the charges against him hadn’t been dropped. It still chilled him to the bone when he recalled his weekend in jail. Yes, Afghanistan had been worse, but at least there he’d had his whole unit watching his back. In prison you were on your own.
Their identifications were checked and they were led into a small room with half a dozen tables in it. Guards stood throughout the room. Hopefully this guy could shed some light on why everything had been turning to crap since he’d bought the mill.
“Thanks for arranging this,” he said to his cousin as they sat on one side of a table near the corner of the room. “Not sure I’d want to do this solo.”
Shrugging, Jack said, “No problem. Luckily I still have some contacts in the field. Lots of them happy to help me out after the shit storm the Bureau put me through.”
A guard walked in with a skinny man in his midforties and led him over to the table. “Your visitors. You’ve got ten minutes.”
“Who are you?” Mickey grunted as he checked them out.
“Just want to ask you some questions.”
Sitting in the chair opposite them, he snarled, “And why would I want to answer them?”
Jack cleared his throat. “Because I have connections in the Bureau who could make things a bit easier for you if we like what you say.” Jack lifted his hand and a fifty dollar bill peeked from underneath.
“Tell me what you’d like then and I’ll say it.” The greasy hair on the man’s head flopped in his eyes and he shook it back. His hand crept along the table but Jack’s clamped back over the money.
“You were listed as the owner of a mill building on Prescott Street in Menatuck. What can you tell us about it?” Scott let Jack do the talking. As an agent he had experience questioning people.
The man’s face look confused. “I don’t own no mill building.”
“According to the town records, you purchased the place eighteen years ago.”
“Eighteen years ago. How the hell could I have afforded some big building at that age? I was mostly running errands for…a friend.”
“What friend would that be?”
“Guess it don’t matter now ‘cause he’s dead. Come to think of it, he might have mentioned putting something in my name. Told me I didn’t have to worry about it though.”
“Who?”
“Victor Cabrini. He got whacked like six months ago or so.”
Jack’s eyes darkened. Cabrini was the reason Jack hadn’t seen Callie and his son, Jonathan, for over two years. Running with a target on his back had finally ended with Cabrini’s death.
“Cabrini owned the building. Do you know what he used it for?”
Mickey shrugged. “Nah, he never told me nothing. But he paid me a few thousand dollars at the time. Wasn’t gonna argue with that.”
Nodding at the guard, Jack stood. “Thank you for your help.”
“Did you like what I said?”
“I’ll put in a word and get you a few benefits in here.” Jack left the bill on the table and Mickey scooped it up in less than a second.
“Come ask questions any time.”
The guard came to take Mickey away. Scott stood also and they left the building. “That makes sense now. Looking at the information Heather got, Mickey has been inside for almost four years and paying taxes this whole time. He only stopped in January.”
“Obviously Cabrini was paying the taxes until he died,” Jack replied. “I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say the building wasn’t being used for anything remotely legal.”
Scott laughed. “Really? Did Cabrini have any legal businesses?”
“Actually he had more than you’d think. Some were used as fronts for other things. Tony Pascucci has been busy cleaning many of them up. He would have paid the taxes on the mill if it had been for any profitable legal reason.”
“Pascucci? He’s the one who killed Victor, right?”
“Saved our lives.” Jack moved toward the truck. “I’ll pay him a visit. I’m curious now how your troubles came back to Cabrini.”
After starting the truck and putting it in gear, Scott maneuvered onto the road. “It must be hard to hear Cabrini’s name again.”
“He’s dead.” The gravel in Jack’s tone wasn’t fooling anyone that it didn’t affect him.
“Doesn’t get rid of the years you lost because of him.”
“No, it doesn’t. But I’m trying to get past all that and make every second I have with Callie and Jonathan count.” Looking anxiously at him, Jack said, “Don’t mention any of this to Callie yet. I don’t want her to worry.”
“I won’t say anything to Callie but I need to let Heather know. I’m not sure she’ll keep that information to herself. Callie’s her best friend. They don’t keep secrets from each other.”
Chuckling, Jack said, “Yeah, which brings me to my question of what’s been going on with you and Heather? I’ve heard your name bantered about when the two women think I’m not listening.”
“We’re business partners who keep running into shit problems.”
“And that’s it? Because I’m pretty sure I overheard the phrase ‘makes my panties drip’ a few weeks ago. Unless she’s talking about some other guy.”
Seriously, Heather thought that of him? God, he hoped it was him.
“By the smirk on your face, I’m thinking you’re cool with that.”
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind getting in there to check it out.” Biting his lip, he tried to get rid of the grin. Jack’s next words did it for him.
“Remember she’s my wife’s best friend. And we owe her a lot. She kept our secret for years and helped Callie more than I can ever repay. I don’t want her hurt.”
“I’d never hurt her. I care about her too. I know what she’s done for you and your family. But she’s also a grown woman who can make decisions on her own.”
“Fair enough.”
They drove in silence for a while, Jack busy on his phone. Getting information on Cabrini’s involvement in this whole fiasco?
As he got on the highway, Scott’s mind turned to the date he and Heather had gone on a few days ago. Nice, quiet restaurant. She’d worn a sweet little number that got his blood pressure in the danger zone. Her high heels had his head spinning, making her almost as tall as him. Putting her mouth at the same level as his. Dangerous.
He’d even changed out of his work pants and boots and donned a tie. One apparently he’d worn to Callie and Jack’s wedding. He only owned a few. Maybe he’d need to purchase a few more. Right? When the hell would he ever wear them?
The conversation had flowed well and the sexual interplay had been there, but only as an undercurrent. He hadn’t wanted to push her. It was nice to see her in this different light. Although when he’d dropped her off, they’d sat in her driveway and made out like horny high school kids, fogging up the windows. God, he’d wanted to take her right there in his truck but figured her neighbors might object if his bare ass pressed against the window as he pumped into her. His mind had gone through all sorts of possible scenarios. All of them with him buried deep inside her.
When they’d finally broken apart and he’d walked her up to her door, she’d been quiet. Like she was torn as to whether she should invite him in. Her actions in the truck made him think she’d welcome it, but her wide eyes had seemed confused. He’d let her call the shots. No way was he going to push his way inside and make the decision for her. Though he figured if he’d said even the tiniest word of wanting to come in, she wouldn’t have said no.
“Thanks for a great time tonight” had been all she’d managed then kissed him before she slipped inside her door. Standing there for a few moments, he knew it was good she’d made the decision. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have had the control. She was damn potent stuff.
* * * *
“Scott, what are you doing here?”
Scott stood in front of Heather’s door, typical work clothes in place. Those damn Carhartts she found so freakin’ sexy and the snug T-shirt that showed off his well-honed muscles. It was Sunday. Didn’t he take the weekends off?
“I got some information when Jack and I visited the guy who supposedly owned the building before us. I wanted to share it with you.”
“I had a friend do a little digging too,” she answered, standing back to let him in.
“Are you working today?” he asked, staring at her slim skirt and tailored blouse.
“I had a showing this morning but I’m off for the rest of the day.”
“Nice,” he commented, looking around the room. Her house was small but quaint and homey. She’d taken time to choose each piece of furniture and knickknack.
“I have to say I’m kind of surprised you live in a house like this. I might have been a little distracted the other night when I dropped you off to notice.”
“What did you expect?” She knew what he expected. Some large mansion or penthouse apartment. Sure, her parents had many of those and she’d grown up with all that wealth. The place she’d always felt at home though was Callie’s little bungalow. It was warm and inviting.
“Not a Cape style house. But I like it. Makes you seem more real.”
“Because I was fake before?” Seriously could he take the stick out of his ass about her being raised in a wealthy family? She thought they’d gotten past that.
“Never fake, no. Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you. You know I have a slight problem in that area. I need to keep working on it. Forgive me.”
“Fine, but no more cracks about the rich and famous.”
“Why don’t you give me a tour while I tell you what I found out?”
“Sure, we can start here in the living room.” It was good sized, though nowhere near as large as the area he had. Probably why he seemed surprised. He wouldn’t expect that she had smaller living space than he did.
They walked through the doorway into the kitchen. She’d updated it with all the modern conveniences while still keeping it simple. “I was about to throw a frozen pizza in the oven for lunch. Did you want to stay?”
“Stay for lunch?” His eyebrow raised and his lips twisted.
Always the same thing on his mind. It had been on her mind a lot lately too. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do about it, though. With only a simple touch, he set her on fire, yet how could she give up her independence for him? He was the type of guy who wanted to take care of his woman. Take control. Having control over her own life had been her goal for a long time now.
“Yes, lunch. You know, when you eat.”
“That’d be nice. To eat here.” He would have been more believable if his gaze hadn’t wandered down her skirt to the juncture of her thighs. Memories of him dining there seized her and she had to shake her head to rid herself of the images.
“I have two rooms down this hallway,” she said breathing deeply, trying to ignore how close he’d come up behind her. “I use one for my home office. The other is for relaxing.” She indicated the television, stereo, and comfortable couches within.
“What was the information you got?” he asked, as they moved back toward the living room.
“I had a friend, who’s extremely talented with a computer, check out where the payments came from for the taxes on the building. They’d been paid until January but this guy had been in prison for almost four years. That didn’t make sense.”
“Exactly what I thought too,” he said, his gaze wandering over her knickknacks and decorations. What was he thinking? And why did she even care? He was her business partner, nothing more. Except you want to rip his clothes off and jump on for a ride. And he’d be happy to oblige.
He hadn’t pushed the issue a few days ago on their date, though. She’d wondered about that. Especially since she knew he’d been plenty aroused with their bout of tonsil hockey in the car. Her hand had skimmed over his pants and he’d been hard as a rock. For some reason, though, she hadn’t invited him in. God, she’d wanted to. Her girly parts certainly hadn’t been happy with her decision. And yet, he hadn’t pushed or even tried to seduce his way in. He would have been successful.
“This guy followed the money trail for who had actually paid the taxes. It took a few random turns but he finally came up with an account from which the money was drawn. Can you guess who?”
His grin grew and the dimple stood out in his chin, making her want to kiss it. “I think I can. Our man in prison gave us a name of someone he’d been working for at the time he supposedly bought the building.”
“Victor Cabrini,” they both said at the same time.
“I can’t believe it. How is this man still screwing with our family?” After all he’d done to Callie, the name still gave her chills.
“It is a weird coincidence but I think that’s all it is. We were the ones to go after the building. Cabrini had his hand in lots of pies. I’m still trying to figure out what he was doing with this building. The answer to our troubles could be in there somewhere.”
“I know he’s dead, but did he leave someone who’s trying to finish some of his work?”
Stepping closer, Scott pushed a strand of hair off her cheek then rested his hand on her shoulder. “Jack plans to get in contact with Tony Pascucci, Victor’s right-hand man. The guy’s trying to go legit but he might have some information that’ll help us. I plan to go with him once he sets up a meet.”
“I wouldn’t mind talking to him myself.”
“I don’t know how smart that’d be. He might be doing things legal now, but he’s the one who let Angelo Cabrini die and took out Victor.”
There was that protectiveness again. Didn’t he realize she could take care of herself? Like you did when looking for Jian? Okay, maybe she needed some assistance at times. She still wasn’t completely helpless.
“Let me know what you find out. Did you want to finish the grand tour?”
His smile told her he did.
“Upstairs I have three rooms.” They walked up the stairs and she pointed to the left. “I have a guest room and one I use for exercise. This room on the right is my bedroom.”
After he’d peeked into the other rooms he stopped in her doorway. “Am I allowed in this hallowed sanctuary?”
Stopping herself from rolling her eyes, she shrugged. “You’re allowed. Don’t make yourself too comfortable, though. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get out of these work clothes.”
“I don’t mind at all. Go right ahead.”
His look had her holding her breath. Did she want to tempt him? He still stood in the doorway as his gaze roamed the room, taking in her furniture and decor.
“It’s not as froufrou as I thought it would be. I like it.”
Moving toward her dresser, she pulled her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and started unbuttoning it. As she slipped it off her shoulders, he looked in her direction. He was trying to be polite and not stare but he wasn’t being all that successful.
Placing the blouse on the nearby chair, she reached back to unhook her skirt. Damn thing got stuck. Should she ask Scott? God, she wanted him to undress her and rock her world but what did that mean to her independent status? You can screw the gorgeous hunk and still be independent. That inner voice never had any control.
“Can you help me with this hook, please?”
Pushing away from the door frame, Scott sauntered over. “Happy to help.”
The hook was undone in seconds and the zipper started to lower. She should tell him she was all set and he could leave now but for some reason her vocal chords were frozen.
“Did you need help getting it off too?”
In the mirror his eyes zoomed in on her breasts nearly popping out of her bra. It was demi-cut, lacy, and her nipples barely fit inside. Currently they were hardening. He must be able to see that. If the arousal at her back was anything to go by, he did.
“Are you an expert in undressing women now? Or has that always been a talent?”
The rough skin of his hands skimmed her waist and slid the fabric of her skirt lower. “Well, a guy learns a lot when he’s done time on the inside.”
Her chuckle escaped and she looked to see if he was offended by it. The grin on his face said he wasn’t. His eyes were still focused above her waist while his hands continued to slide her skirt down. It finally dropped, landing on the floor. Scott knelt down, lifting one of her feet then the other to pick up the fabric.
“We wouldn’t want this wrinkled. I love the way it hugs all your curves.”
His voice was so rough and husky it caused goosebumps on her skin. There was no way she could move if she tried. His presence mesmerized her. What would he do next?
After folding the skirt then laying it on the same chair as her blouse, he moved back behind her and slid his hands around her waist then up to cup her breasts. Lowering his head, he kissed up the side of her neck. Shivers ran through her and she tilted her head to one side. God, he could do this all day. With his tongue stroking her skin, he nibbled on the back of her neck.
“I love hearing you moan like that,” he whispered near her ear as he bit softly on that too. Sensations began to overwhelm her. Arching her back she pushed into the hands holding her. Pushing the lacy fabric aside, he scooped her from the cups and began kneading her flesh.
“God, Scott,” she moaned, to hell with her pride. She wanted him to touch her, stroke her, take control.
“Something you like?”
“Mmm” was all she managed as he pinched her nipples and gently pulled. Grinding her hips against his arousal, she wanted more.
“Now that I’m a bad boy who’s been in prison, I’m acceptable. I didn’t know you had that naughty side to you, princess. We’ll need to explore it some more.”
“Yes, please,” she begged, wanting him to explore every part of her.
Her bra dropped away. When had he undone that? This desire coursing through her had made her lose all sanity.
“Apparently you’ve got someone who makes your panties drip,” Scott said, his hand lowering down her stomach. “I was wondering if it was me.”
Damn, how had he known that? She’d said that to Callie. Had Jack overheard? It didn’t matter now.
“Could be.” She wouldn’t let his head swell too much. Well, not that head anyway. The other one pushed against her back quite prominently.
“Guess I’ll have to check for myself,” he growled as he slid his hand into her panties. The heat and sensation nearly made her fall over. His free hand held her tight while his capable fingers played in her folds. Holy Mother of God. Her brain exploded from feeling too much.
“Totally dripping. And all for me.”
He turned her around and she wanted to cry at the loss of his touch. But he lifted her to sit on the dresser then attached his lips to her erect nipple. The sucking caused her center to clench and more moans to escape from her lips. She clutched at his head keeping it firmly against her chest.
“I could do this all day.”
“Please do,” she cried wanting nothing more than to have his hands and mouth touching every part of her.
“Are you sure? You didn’t want to ruin the business partnership?”
“Screw the business partnership.” If she didn’t get him inside her soon, she’d explode.
His chuckle brought her back for a second then he picked her up, walking toward the bed. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she held on, pushing his shirt up his torso as he moved.
“Screw the business partner, you mean.” He dropped her on the bed and crawled toward her slowly. The predatory look in his eyes should have scared her. It didn’t. It excited her more than anything.
Lowering his head toward her middle, he pushed her legs apart. God, yes, please. This is exactly what she pictured every time her vibrator got some use. This was the real deal, though.
He paused halfway up her body then turned his head. No, he couldn’t stop now. His eyes narrowed and he took in a deep breath through his nose. When he looked back at her the desire had dimmed. What the hell?
“Do you smell that?”
His testosterone? Sure, it blanketed the air and almost suffocated her.
“It smells like gas. Do you have a gas stove? Did you leave it on?”
Could he be serious about this? “Yes, I have a gas stove but it’s not on.” Now that he mentioned it, she smelled it too. It was getting stronger. “Can’t we check it out later?”
His expression was one of conflict. “There’s nothing I’d like better than to have you screaming my name, but I think I better take a look first. You can wait here if you want. The thought of you on this bed, your legs spread open for me, will make me get back here faster.”
He backed off the bed then moved toward the door, his face disappointed. His footsteps echoed down the stairway and she ran her hands down her body. Shit, this was bad timing. As she lay there she realized the smell was even worse. Where the hell had it come from?
Getting off the bed, she threw on a tank top and a pair of shorts then trotted down stairs. Scott stood at her cellar door, his expression concerned.
“It’s really strong in the basement. I think the best bet is to call the gas company and have them check it out.”
As she went to grab her phone, he pulled on her hand and dragged her to the door. “We can call from outside. Safer there.”
What did he think would happen? Yeah, the gas smelled bad but it wouldn’t poison them in only a few minutes time.
They’d barely cleared the front door when a large bang echoed through the house.
“Run!” Scott yelled, pushing her in front of him.
Heat and flames exploded behind them, the force throwing them across the front lawn. Her back burned from the temperature, and debris rained down upon them. Her house was engulfed in flames. Her beautiful house. Another explosion roared through the air with more debris flying at them. Something hit her in the head and blackness descended.