Chapter Nine
Standing over a tarp-covered body in the street, all Colby could think about was Mal. If he closed his eyes, he could see the luminous glow of her skin against that golden dress she’d worn. He could smell the perfume of her skin. Feel the strength in her hands, the lush rumble of her voice telling him what to do next. He hadn’t realized what a… comfort that could be. A relief.
So better than where he was stuck right now.
“Reyes and Wade just rolled to the scene,” Elias was saying on the phone to dispatch. “Looks like another cartel hit. Yeah. We got it.”
We got it. Which meant he’d be out all night canvasing the street, trying to find anyone brave enough to describe the car or the gunmen who’d mowed down this poor bastard in broad daylight. He’d lain in the street for hours before anyone had even called 911. Just when they were getting close. Again. Witness dead in the gutter.
So instead of heading home for a shower and maybe a late dinner with Mal, he’d be guzzling coffee, eating shit out of a paper bag, and cranking out paperwork most of the night. Great.
Elias hung up and immediately made another call. “Hey, babe. Yeah, another late one.”
A surge of jealousy took Colby’s breath away and he actually turned and walked back up the street a ways under the guise of searching through the refuse for clues. He wanted someone to call. Someone who’d worry whether he came home or not. Would Mal want a call from him? Would she be surprised if he called? Or glad?
Before he could talk himself out of it, he called her number. Daylight was fading fast. Coroner would need the big lights to take the initial pictures.
“Detective Wade.” The husky timbre of her voice was like a punch in his gut. “I didn’t know if you’d have the balls to call me back or not.”
Despite the frustration of yet another solid lead against the drug cartel going cold, he had to laugh. “Oh I got the balls all right. Thought I showed you that last night.”
“You showed me a lot last night, sugar. The question is, whether you’ll let me explore some more.”
He glanced over his shoulder to check on his partner. Elias was still on the phone, so Colby kept walking, slowly searching through empty beer battles and musty newspapers for anything useful. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot, actually. But I’m going to be working late tonight.”
“All night?”
He blew out a sigh. “Yeah, probably.”
“Is that an often occurrence for you, detective? Working all day, and then all night too?”
Resignation tightened his throat. He’d seen if often enough with the other cops. Hell, even Elias. Busted relationships, angry wives and girlfriends. The stress and worry gnawing away any love they’d been able to nurture. Better that Mal knew what his life was like now and move on, than be disappointed. “More often than not.”
“I’m not happy about that, detective.”
He nodded and blew out a breath. “Figured as much.”
She was quiet a moment. Long enough that he flashed through memories of last night again. The challenge in her eyes. The light. The insane sense of immediate trust he’d felt with her. He could almost taste that cobbler and ached to hear her tell him to eat every bite again. Not that he needed the command, now. He just wanted to hear it.
“I guess I can’t punish you for things out of your control.”
His ears rang a moment and he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly. “Ma’am?”
She laughed, that husky slide of velvet that made him shiver. “Oh there you go again, detective, talking so sweetly and politely. That’s not fair if you’re not even going to come see me tonight. If I’m going to punish you for something, it’ll be because you deliberately did something to earn it. Not because you had to stay out late for your job.”
“I guess you’ll never have cause to do that, then.” He deliberately kept his words vague in case Elias was listening with half an ear.
“I wouldn’t say that at all, sugar. You’d be surprised what a desperate man will do when he needs a little attention.”
The way she said attention sent shivers running up and down his spine again. The Mistress’s unwavering, intense attention. He could only imagine what a force of nature that would be like.
“Why are you having to stay out all night, if you can tell me?”
“Body.” He kept his response vague, but she’d be able to guess enough.
“Are you safe?” Her voice sharpened.
He couldn’t answer right away, too moved by the concern in her voice. “No worries. Not tonight.”
“We’ll have to set up some kind of code word for when you’re going to be in danger. That way I won’t worry about you—until it’s time to worry.”
He heard footsteps coming behind him, so he smiled and put some cockiness back into his voice. “Don’t you worry about me none, ma’am.”
“Call me when you’re done. I don’t care what time it is. I want to know when you’re home. That’s an order, detective.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.” He hung up and turned to face his partner. In the fading light, he didn’t need to see Elias’s face to know curiosity would be eating him alive. “You want to split up and hit this faster?”
“Sure,” Elias replied slowly. “You take the north side, I’ll take the south. Thirty minutes. Then meet back here.”
“You and I both know that we won’t find any witnesses.”
“But we’ve got to check that box on the report anyway.” Elias hesitated, not walking away to start their work yet. “You called Mal?”
Colby shrugged, playing it off. “Didn’t want her to think I was blowing her off.”
Elias patted his pockets until he found a pack of gum. A few months ago, he’d have pulled out a pack of cigarettes, but Vicki had put a stop to that. “What did you tell her you’d do?”
Colby flashed that cocky grin again and headed for his side of the street of rundown buildings. “None of your business.”
Elias grunted with disgust. “Thank God.”
It was after four in the morning before Colby was able to climb into his truck, watching while Elias took off in the opposite direction. His eyes were gritty and hot, but he felt wide awake. Just the promise of calling Mal had kept him going through what seemed like an endless losing battle. Junkies too high to know what year it was, terrified immigrants afraid of getting hauled off for deportation, or people too poor to live anywhere else than across the street from a known drug house. None of them had seen a thing. Naturally.
He held the phone to his ear, counting the rings. She picked up on the third, her voice thick with sleep. “Colby?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m done.”
Sheets rustled, and he could picture her lying there on her pillows. “You okay?”
“Sure. Just tired.” In more ways than one.
“Come over. If you want.”
“Ah, I’d love to, but I don’t want you to have to get up or anything.”
“I’ll give you my door code and you can let yourself in. I won’t even get out of bed.”
“Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“It’ll be Saturday.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” Dropping his head back against the seat, he let out a weary laugh. “I forgot what day it is.”
“Will you have to work?”
“Maybe, but not right away.”
“So come over, get some sleep, and I’ll make you breakfast.”
It sounded nice. Heavenly. But he didn’t know what she’d want from him. Some sexy, light banter had been great, but he felt like an exhausted, strung out junkie. He wasn’t sure what kind of sex he’d be able to give her, whether it’d be worth her time or not.
“No scene or sex, at least not tonight. Just rest. You need it.”
“You won’t mind company?”
She hesitated a minute, and he heard the quaver in her voice. “I’d love it.”
She needed the companionship as much as he did. Just to have someone beside him, someone to wake up and smile at. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes or so.”
“Don’t drive home and shower first,” she yawned and the sleepy sound curled his toes. She sounded like a kitten all curled up and sweet—not the ferocious tiger on the prowl. “You can shower here.”
He started up his truck and turned toward her place. “You sure you want me fumbling around in your bathroom? I thought that was a woman’s sacred space.”
“Ha, not me. My sacred space is my bed and you’ve already been here.”
Her words were sweet, but mumbled and slurred. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Now go back to sleep, ma’am.”
“If I wasn’t so tired I’d probably beat you when you got here for trying to tell me what to do.” She yawned again and sheets rustled, as if she was burrowing back down in her pillows. “Drive safely.”
“Will do.” He hung up and fought the urge to floor it. At least there wasn’t any traffic this early in the morning, though it felt like he crawled all the way to her house by following the speed limit. Her street was dark, but the porch light was on. Had she gotten up after all? Or did she normally leave it on? Maybe he was reading too much into this. A single woman, living alone, would probably always have a light on. It had nothing to do with the hope that her lover might come to her in the wee hours of the morning. Walking up to her door, he checked his phone, and found her text with the code to her automatic door lock.
Habit made him pause and scan his surroundings once again, listening and feeling for any sense of anyone watching or following. Not even a dog barked in the neighborhood. His fingers trembled slightly on the keypad but he got the code entered on the first try and quietly shut and locked the door behind him. A night light gleamed in the hallway, leading him to the bathroom. Knowing that she was so close it was all he could do not to slide into bed and take her in his arms, but he wouldn’t come to her smelling of the streets. In fact, he should have taken his shoes off at the door rather than walking through her house. God only knew what he’d contaminated her wood floors with. Next time, he swore to himself. He’d take his shoes off and tiptoe through her house.
Next time. Would this continue that far? God, I hope so.
The water barely had time to heat up and he was out, drying off with a towel from the shelf. He looked like hell, all grizzled cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes, but he didn’t want to rummage around in her drawers to find a razor. A basket on the shelf held a couple of brand new toothbrushes still in the wrapper. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind him using one, because he sure didn’t want to have to remember not to kiss her. He tidied up—hung the towel on a hook on the door, picked up his clothes and stacked them neatly on the floor out of the way—and then slipped on his boxers. He didn’t want to presume too much by sliding into her bed naked when she’d clearly said no scene, no sex. At least not tonight.
Her room was pitch dark, so he moved slowly, making sure he didn’t crash into that dog kennel or her dresser. Her breathing was deep and even, so she’d been able to get back to sleep after his call. As quietly as possible, he climbed onto the mattress, carefully feeling for her position so he wouldn’t pull her hair or thump her in the head. His fingers found her warmth, the silk of her arm. She wore something too, cotton, it felt like, so he was glad he hadn’t come to her bed naked. He tucked in behind her, spooned against her and she sighed. Nestling her head back against him, she put her hand on his arm and tucked him closer.
Lying there, listening to her breathe, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman like this. Not for sex, but just… warmth. Comfort. Company. He smoothed his hand gently up and down her arm, reveling in the silk of her skin, and the simple pleasure of touching her. He buried his nose in her hair and fell like a rock into heavy sleep.