Chapter Six

 

Ric was busy looking over his files as the plane landed in LA for a charity show that night. One that he had been planning for months. The event was for another Alzheimer’s charity that Allison had gotten him involved in a few years back when her mother had been diagnosed and she had several new pieces in tonight’s auction. Since it was hosted at his gallery, he had made sure personally that everything was in place.

 

He enjoyed charity events more than the normal art events that came with the job. Stuffy people in stuffy rooms, but since this one was in his own place, he was a lot happier to attend it.

 

He usually spent a few months in California a year, but for the most part, he’d taken to running everything from his Portland offices. He felt more at home there and was actually thinking of it more as the base of his operation.

 

Later that evening as he stood next to the Countess Regina, one of his regular patrons, he watched his friend Mitchell Kovich march across the room, heading in his direction. Mitchell was his contact in New York the man who’d introduce him to Sandi.

 

“There you are, Ric,” Mitchell said, pulling a flute of champagne off a waiter’s silver tray as he passed. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you the last few days.”

 

Ric excused himself from the countess and pulled Mitchell across the room where there were less people. His friend was almost ten years younger than him. His wire frame was that of a swimmer, that’s actually how the two had met in college. Mitchell had been a skinny freshmen being picked on by some of the larger swim team members, when Ric had been walking by and stopped the fight. Mitch had a broken nose to show for the incident and a new friend.

“What the devil is going on with Sandi, I haven’t been able to get through to her for weeks. The embassy is a mess…”

 

“Hang on there Ric, I’ve some news on that subject,” he took a large swig of the drink and grabbed another from the same waiter who’d circled the room. Ric started getting more concerned since he knew Mitch wasn’t a drinker. “there’s been a major – incident.”

 

“Incident?”

 

“Listen Ric,” Mitch looked around the room, “things have gotten a little out of hand.” He tossed back the next drink. “I’ve had to pull some strings, using your name and I think I screwed up big time.”

 

“What do you…” Just then, Ric’s cell phone vibrated. Looking at the number, he recognized the detective’s office number. “Hang on, I’ve got to take this call.”

 

Ric answered as he watched Mitchell walk back across the room and grabbed another flute which he downed quickly. His friend kept looking around the room, looking for someone, or looking to avoid someone he didn’t know.

 

“How can I help you this evening detective?” He said smoothly.

 

“You can tell me where the hell you are and why you’re butt is not in Portland.” He could hear the anger in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving town? We have an open case here, and you go flying off to be with….” He heard her take a deep breath.

 

“I wasn’t aware that the Portland PD needed to know my whereabouts at all times.” He leaned against the door jam and enjoyed the annoyance in her voice. Would her eyes be sparking fire as he imagined? He smiled imagining the flames shooting in his direction from her.

 

“Listen Mr. Derby, I made it perfectly clear that I needed to know if you left town for any length of time. I’m trying to run an investigation here, unless you forgot.”

 

“How could I forget? After all, it is my art that is missing, and my assistant that was killed.” He could hear a loud noise on her line in the background.

 

“Yeah, well -” he heard her drop the phone, then there was loud popping noise and finally he heard her say, “Someone come get this damn drunk off the floor, he just puked all over my boots.” After a shuffle, he heard her say, “Brian, you jackass, next time cuff the perp before you decide to take a bathroom break. Now, he not only puked on my new boots, he’s also torn my good shirt. You owe me big time rookie.”

 

He didn’t hear the man’s reply, but when Rob came back on the phone, he thought she said, “Asshole,” under her breath.

 

“Problem, Detective?” Ric asked.

 

“Nothing that 50,000 volts and a good shoe shine couldn’t handle.” He chuckled, as she continued. “Listen, I needed to know when you leave Portland, I’ve got some questions…”

 

“I’ll be back in town tomorrow mid-day. How about we meet for lunch?”

 

“No, I’ll stop by later this week.” He thought he heard annoyance in her voice as she hung up.

 

Ric hung up with Rob and looked around for Mitchell, but he was gone. Something ate at Ric and he told himself that he needed to check into a few things when he got back to Portland. He didn’t like that Mitchell had been the one to introduce him to Sandi and now she had disappeared and now Mitchell was nervous and acting strange, which wasn’t like him.

 

Rob hung up the phone and looked down at her torn shirt and her freshly puked on boots.

 

Her annoyance wasn’t with the boots or her cloths, Ric Derby was the cause of her problems right now. The man had flown to LA today without telling her he was leaving town. She’d called his office and that assistant of his had informed her that he was out of town for a show with Allison. It wasn’t as if she needed to keep an eye on him, but he was a suspect, granted very low on her list. Okay, dead last on her list. But, he was still on it.

 

She marched out of the office to clean up her shoes and put on her backup shirt she kept in her locker.

 

Ric Derby was trouble. She knew it, so why did she have to find his voice so damn sexy?

 

The next evening, she was sitting at her desk, Brian had harassed her all day about this or that, so she wasn’t in a good mood. When she looked up and saw Ric walking across the crowded room, she immediately went on alert.

 

Why did he have to look so good? His suit was dark gray this time. Did he have a full closet of them in different colors? He had the standard bright blue tie on today, which matched his eyes perfectly. Did he have them specially made? Here it was, she looked at her watch, seven o’clock in the evening, and he looked like he’d just walked off the catwalk.

 

Shaking her head, she nodded to him as he approached.

 

“I thought we decided I’d stop by later this week.” She went back to the stack of papers on her desk. Giving each her full attention. Well, maybe not her fullest. How could she concentrate when he was staring at her like that?

 

“You agreed,” he sat in the chair next to her desk. “I on the other hand didn’t say anything of the sort.” He leaned closer to look at the papers she was trying to concentrate on. “You look busy.”

 

“Hmm,” she flipped the page, “I’m searching through your records, trying to find a connection on the pieces taken.”

 

“Well, why don’t we take these someplace more quiet and grab some food while we’re at it. I’d be glad to help out.” He started to pick up one of the large stacks of files she had.

 

“No,” she tried to stop him, “I can handle my job just fine.” He sat the files back down.

 

“Just trying to help. After all, this was my art. I do have a little more background on them than these files would have.” He smiled.

 

Looking at him, she tilted her head, and realized it was true. He’d know the artists personally and he probably even knew what they were wearing when each one was painted.

 

“Fine, but you’re paying for dinner.”

 

The dark man watched as the couple left the building together. He’d followed her back over to the police station. Trying to find a pattern, trying to find his opening. He wanted his hands on the woman. After seeing her for the first time, he knew she was another item he wanted. Nothing had ever stopped him before, and he always got what he wanted. But he had Ric to take care of first, before he could think about his own pleasures.

 

He would just have to change his plans a little. Move his pawns around and find his best strategy. He was good at strategy, after all, that’s what people paid him loads of money for.

 

“You’ve got some place here, nice view,” she walked around his apartment, looking out at the lights of the city which reflected off the river.

 

He liked the tight black pants she wore. They had pockets with buttons on her butt, which just made him want to look at her butt more. She’d removed her jacket and he liked the button up short sleeved shirt she was wearing. The dark red color set off the tones of her hair somehow.

 

“It has its perks,” he set the large box of files on his coffee table. The pizza box was balanced on top of it. “Do you want some wine with the pizza?” He walked to the kitchen, she followed.

 

When he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, she said. “I’ll take one of those.”

 

Two hours later, the stack of files were spread out all over his coffee table and some were even sitting on the floor. Financial papers in one pile, buyer history in another. There didn’t seem to be any connection with the pieces. At least none that they could tell.

 

She sat back and rubbed the back of her neck. He could see the tension in her face when he’d arrived at her desk. She looked annoyed at his arrival. He’d enjoyed riling her, but knew that he would cross the line if he did it when she was actually hurting.

 

They sat side by side on the couch and when he started to pull her towards him, she tensed.

 

“I’m just going to help you out, trust me.” She looked at him for a minute, gauging him. Then, he could see the decision in her eyes. She allowed him to pull her closer, and when he turned her around he started massaging her shoulders. He could feel the tension dissolving under his fingers. She moaned a little and leaned her head forward, giving him full access to her neck and shoulders. Gently he moved her french braid over her shoulder and continued moving his hands over her slender form.

 

“I can’t quite figure you out.”

 

“What’s there to figure out? You pretty much know more about me, than I do. I bet you have a file, twice as thick on me somewhere.”

 

“Hmm, yes,” she admitted, “But, it didn’t cover this.”

 

“What?” He was completely focused on the skin just under her ear. He bet it was soft and tasted of honey. Would she moan if he kissed her there?

 

She turned around and looked at him. He’d removed his tie and jacket, had unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up. He looked and felt at home.

 

“You’re quite the charmer. I get that you have a stake in finding your missing art. But, why are you helping me out tonight? I mean, most people would cringe at the thought of getting their hands dirty in a stack of paperwork like this.” She waved her hand to the disarray of papers laying all over his living room.

 

“Well, my intentions, when I walked into your office, weren’t to do paperwork.” He tried for casual.

 

“Then, what were they?”

“To see you, and by helping you out with this paperwork it allowed us to go on our first date.” He smiled.

 

“This is not a first date,” she looked taken back.

 

He thought about it a minute, “You know, you’re absolutely right,” he leaned forward and brushed his lips gently over hers before she could move away.

 

Her lips were soft and warm, and he could taste the pizza sauce, beer, and her. He ran a hand up her neck and gently cupped the back of her head to hold her to him, his hand resting just on her neck. She’d leaned into him and he felt her hand on his leg holding herself upright.

 

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. They reminded him of the color of his morning cappuccino. He could see that they were unfocused and confused.

 

“There, now we can call it a date.” He went to lean closer and kiss her again. She held up a hand to his chest.

 

“I – I can’t get involved. You’re part of an ongoing investigation, and…” he took her mouth again, this time with a little more pressure.

 

Her hand was trapped between them, she held onto his shirt front, holding him close. He ran his fingers into her loose braid and enjoyed the softness of her hair. She had an intoxicating taste and he marveled at the differences he was now feeling in her.

 

Gone, was the tough cop who had a hard exterior shell. Instead she was replaced by a soft, very sexual woman who was melting under his light touch.

 

Her tongue darted out to play across his lips and he took that moment to enjoy, exploring her soft mouth. The zesty mixture of beer and pizza was on her tongue and he enjoyed the taste.

 

Pulling her closer, he realizing she was almost in his lap. He ran his hands over her, enjoying the softness of her curves, the length of her legs and arms. She wrapped herself around him as he pulled her up, onto his lap so that she was straddling him. She rubbed herself against his pants, where it was obvious what she was doing to him.

 

This only caused him to get harder as she rubbed lightly against him. His eyes almost crossed when her hips started moving, riding him faster. He enjoyed the feel of the clothes between them and wondered if she enjoyed it as much as he did.

 

As he grabbed her hips, he held on when he felt her melt against him. Her hands were fisted in his hair, she’d taken complete control and he was enjoying every minute.

 

He ran his hands up under her shirt and cupped her. She was warm and soft and he played with the silk she wore until he could feel her nipples pushing against his fingers. Then, he leaned back and flipped open a couple buttons to expose the black, silky bra.

She rolled her head back and moaned holding his head to her.

Leaning in, he ran his mouth over the column of her neck. Enjoying the spicy taste and smell of her. Until finally, he pulled the silk aside and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly.

Just then her cell phone rang from across the room and they jumped away from each other, as if they were teenagers caught making out on the couch.

 

Standing up quickly, she walked over to her jacket and pulled the phone out. Answering it while she tried to buttoned and tuck in her shirt.

 

“Detective Stanton,” she paused, “How long ago?” She looked over at Ric, he continued to sit there with the proof of his desire tenting the front of his pants. “Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty.” She hung up as she finished tucking in her shirt, then she threw her jacket on and started piling the papers back in the box.

 

“Well, this was…” She finished putting all the files back in the box and looked up at him.

 

“Don’t,” he stood and crossed the room to take her shoulders in his hands. “Don’t belittle it by saying it’s been fun, see you around.” He bent and kissed her again, sparking the flames he knew she felt as well.

 

“Go,” he pushed her lightly towards the door, “be a cop. But, remember that I want you, you want this. Until next time.”

 

She walked out, carrying the boxes under her arms. Her hair was a mess, her shirt was untucked in the back and he knew she was as impacted as he was.