Chapter 13
SHANE SAT AT THE DINING ROOM table after eating a large breakfast that his niece had prepared. Theresa was in the kitchen, doing the dishes, while he enjoyed a few more moments with his son. For the last year he hadn’t worked a single Saturday, and now it was two in a row. And probably tomorrow as well.
“I spoke to your teacher yesterday,” Shane said. “You’re lucky all she did was take the pocketknife away. Do I need to remind you it’s considered a weapon?”
“No, Dad,” Kevin said. His lower lip quivering. “I forgot it was in my pants pocket. Honest. I didn’t mean to bring it to school.”
“I believe you and so did your teacher, but you could be expelled from school.” Shane lowered his chin and arched his brow, trying to channel his father’s strong paternal look. “I know you don’t want that to happen.”
“Can I have a little dish like you have to empty my pockets out in every day? I think that will help me to remember.”
“We can do that. And Theresa and I will remind you.” Shane smiled. “So, tell me about this girl you’ve been talking to.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “She’s in my tutoring group. She missed last semester, too.”
“Why?”
“She had some kind of cancer. Doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“Going to tell me her name?” Shane knew her name, because he’d seen it in his son’s phone. He only read a few of the texts. After knowing what was going on with the Cleary girl, he felt he needed to be more in tune with his son. So many changes.
“Gina,” he said. “Besides having a hard time in math, she’s having a hard time adjusting to being back. A lot more than I am, but it could be easier for me if I had a smartphone.”
“Maybe next year.” Shane shook his head. “How are you having a hard time?”
“I’m the only kid who doesn’t have a smartphone.”
“Nice try,” Shane said. “So, you and Gina hang out a lot together?”
“In class,” Kevin said. “And sometimes at lunch. Some of the girls are mean to her because she wears one of those scarf things. It’s taking a while for her hair to grow back in.”
“You like her a lot.”
“We’re friends.” Kevin’s cheeks flushed.
At his age Shane had it bad for Kara, but he had no idea what that meant. Just that he liked being around her more than anyone else.
“Well, if you did, do you remember what I told you about how to treat girls?”
Kevin rolled his eyes again. “Really, Dad. We’re just friends.”
“Well, if you decide it’s time to be more than just friends—”
“I’ll treat her like a lady,” he said. “Respect her. Go meet her parents. Blah, blah, blah. You and Grandpa are so old-fashioned.”
“Trust me. It’s not old-fashioned. It’s how you get a good woman. It’s how I ended up with your mom.”
“I’m ten and not really in the market for a wife,” Kevin said. “Can I be excused now? I’ve got a hot date with my Xbox.”
Shane laughed. “Sure. I’ve got to get to work. I promise it won’t always be like this.”
“I’m not worried.”
Shane figured he was in for one hell of a ride with this kid through his teenage years. “I’ll see you all tonight!” he yelled as he snagged his keys.
The early afternoon sun was bright, as the sky was clear. But the temperatures had dropped again, and snow was on its way.
Shane headed to his favorite coffee shop to fetch four large cups, as requested by his partner, Kara, and her partner. The line was long, but the line was always long.
“Mr. Rogers?” a familiar voice rang out.
He turned to see the new nurse on the transplant wing standing behind him. “Hello, Tina,” he said, hoping he’d gotten the name right.
“How’s Kevin? Enjoying school?”
“He is,” Shane said. “Thanks for asking.”
“I’ve got an hour before I have to be at the hospital. Care to join me?”
He glanced at his watch. It was just past one. He was supposed to meet Kara, Foster, and Jones by one- thirty at the station. “Thanks for the offer.” The two people in front of him were together and it was his turn to order. “Three large coffees and one mocha to go.” He looked over his shoulder at Tina. “Sorry, I have to get to work.”
“I understand,” she said. “Tell Kevin, next time he comes in I want to see more magic tricks.”
“Will do.”
“Three large coffees and a mocha,” the clerk said.
Shane took the tray in one hand and glanced at his phone in the other as it buzzed.
“Shane here.”
“We’ve got another!” Captain Morrell barked. “Eight candles placed around a naked adult body. Three on each side. One at the head. One at the feet. Same weird butterfly-looking mark. Only, this time an incision was made in the belly.”
Shane quickly put the address into his phone and raced to his car, putting the tray on the passenger seat.
Another dead body.
It took Shane fifteen minutes to drive across town, weaving in and out of traffic, which wasn’t too bad this time of day on a Saturday.
Kara had beat Shane to the crime scene. He rolled his car to a stop behind her SUV. Jones’s car was right in front of hers. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and texted his niece, indicating he had a situation and wasn’t sure when he’d be home. He waited a moment, thankful when she texted back. It was nice to have her around to help.
Shane quickly scanned the scene, pushing his home life from his brain, and focused solely on the case. If this was the same killer, which Shane knew deep in his gut it was, he’d now be considered a serial killer. The press was already aware the FBI was involved, and they’d been speculating on the connection between Emily and Gregory. It was going to be nearly impossible to keep the press at bay.
This time, the killer had chosen a young single mother in a subsidized apartment building in the town of Greece. The victim’s ex found the body when he went to drop off his son for an overnight visit.
Shane drew his sport coat tight around his body, then hefted the coffee tray from the passenger seat. The cold chilled him to the bone.
The apartment was on the second story. Shane stood at the bottom of the stairs after ducking under the police tape and signing the crime scene log. He glanced over his shoulder. The press was interviewing the neighbors and anyone who wanted to be put on camera. People stood around pointing, whispering among themselves. Faces lined with worry. Fear.
Slowly, he made his way to the top of the stairs, focusing on the white noise and trying to ignore the lingering smell of rotting flesh. Foster and Kara were talking with man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. His eyes were bloodshot. He kept shaking his head and running his hand across the top of his buzzed hair. He wore jeans and a nice button-down dress shirt. A black leather bomber jacket was folded over his arm. Shane also noted his expensive shoes. Kara stepped away briefly, took two of the tall paper mugs, and mouthed ‘thank you’ before turning her attention back to interviewing the man.
Jones stood in the kitchen, which was to the right of the front door, talking with a uniformed officer. The family room was straight ahead. Down the hall, he noticed three doors; he assumed two bedrooms and one bathroom. Through the door directly at the end of the hall he could see movement and lights flashing.
“What do we have?” he asked Jones, handing him his cup.
Jones thanked the uniformed officer, who then ducked into the hallway. “He was the first one to arrive with the EMT. First to interview the father.”
“Is that who Kara and Foster are talking to?”
Jones nodded. “The victim is Iris Belton. The ex, Ray Lebinick, knew something was up when she didn’t answer the door.”
“The ex had a key?”
“Not really an ex,” Jones said. “He and the victim never married. He has custody of their son. She sees her kid twice a week for dinner and one night over the weekend. The father pays for the apartment. It’s in his name. The victim works at a local restaurant and bar as a waitress.”
“Where was the boy?”
“The father said when she didn’t answer the door, he took his son back down to the car with his wife. They’re still in the parking lot. A uniform is with them, keeping the press away.”
Shane pulled out his notepad and ran his fingers across the leather before flipping it open. “Approximate time of death for Gregory was two weeks ago. Approximate time of death for Emily was a little over a week ago. Both suspected to be killed on a Thursday.”
“M.E. said, based on temperature of the body and lividity, it could have been a day or two. Didn’t say Thursday, but didn’t say it wasn’t Thursday. I’m thinking maybe Thursday means something,” Jones said. “I also think the killer doesn’t care when the bodies are found. Or where he kills. Emily was abducted. It appears Gregory and this one were killed where they lived.”
“Morrell said there was an incision in the stomach.”
Jones nodded again as he leaned against the counter. “M.E. says it’s like the other ones. Done by someone who knows what they’re doing, but wouldn’t speculate on any internal body parts missing.”
“Presentation of the body?”
“Naked. Face-up. Gagged and bound with duct tape and rope.”
“Wonder if there’s any significance to that.”
“Could be,” Jones said. “Clothes at this scene were folded and placed on the bed. Also, first time we have blood. The killer did try to clean it up, but there’s a fair amount soaked into the carpet.”
Shane jotted down a few notes in his pad, then nodded toward the bedroom. “All right,” Shane said. “If the killer is taking organs for the black market, he’s got to have help. Someone to transport the organ while he finishes his ritual.”
“Agreed,” Jones said.
Shane wandered through the family room toward the back bedroom. The apartment was sparsely furnished. One very old plaid sofa that had seen better days pushed against the back wall. One small coffee table on the side with a lamp. The other side of the room had a beat-up vinyl recliner in front of a sliding glass door. He snapped on a latex glove. “I take it this was locked when you arrived?” he asked Jones.
“Yep.”
Shane continued to the short hallway. The room to the right was a small bedroom with a single bed. Just a box spring and a mattress on the floor. An old wooden desk under the window. The door on the left was the bathroom. Not much he could see, but it looked clean. The entire apartment looked and felt clean. Cared for. The furnishings might be old, but he got the sense that Iris took pride in what she had.
The smell of disinfectant and death hit his nostrils the moment he stepped into the master bedroom. The body was next to the double bed, also just a box spring and mattress on the floor.
“I think this one fought.” Dr. Green, the M.E., held up one hand and pried it open a bit. “Small piece of cloth.”
First piece of real evidence they had. “Care to wager a guess as to what organ might be missing?”
“Don’t know that one is missing.” Dr. Green motioned to one of his team members. “Let’s get the body ready for transport.”
“Hey, Doc,” Shane said, “what about the markings? What do you make of those?”
The M.E. glanced up at Shane. “Looks like a butterfly to me. But something to consider with the other two cases is that the organs that were taken can be harvested for transplant.”
“How many organs can be donated?” Shane asked.
“Lungs, heart, liver, kidneys, pancreases, thymus, intestines, corneas. Those are the main ones. Other tissues, tendons, etc., can also be used.”
Shane stepped from the bedroom, making room for the M.E.’s team and stretcher. “Jones,” Shane barked, “let’s push the crowd back to the other side of the parking lot.”
“Already on it.”
Shane took out his cell phone and called his captain.
“Tell me something good,” Morrell answered.
“I think it’s safe to say we’ve got a serial killer.”
“That’s not good news.”
“We think this murder might have occurred on a Thursday, like the others. Won’t know for sure until we get the report back. The M.E. believes he has found some fibers.” Shane stood outside the door of the apartment, at the top of the stairs. Kara at his side. “I think we might want to dig deeper into the black market, while keeping an eye on Haughton.”
“The Feds with you?”
“Yeah,” Shane said.
“I think it’s time we gave a statement to the press.”
* * *
Shane wanted nothing to do with Kara’s press conference. He always hated them, even if he was standing there, listening. His captain had given him permission to sit this one out, though he did want to catch it on the news. He pulled his sedan into the two-car garage, next to his niece’s little car. He checked the time. Twenty minutes before the six o’clock news. Just enough time to ‘kick it’, as his niece would say, with his son, then watch the news.
When he pushed open the garage door that opened into the family room his nostrils were filled with his mother’s special vodka sauce. He was going to get fat having Theresa around to cook.
“Hey, Dad,” Kevin said. He sat on the sofa, Xbox controller in his hand, eyes focused on the television. “Thought you were going to be late.”
“I thought I’d be home a few hours ago, but something came up.” After Shane unclipped his weapon and stored it in the secure box in the closet, he sat down next to his son and ruffled his hair. “You need a haircut.”
“So do you.” Kevin glanced up from his game. “It’s over your collar and you need a shave.”
Shane rubbed his chin. “I forgot to do that this morning. How about we both get haircuts tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is Sunday, and the barber isn’t open on Sunday,” Kevin said.
“What did you do today?”
“Went shopping for Grandma’s birthday present. Don’t forget. You know how she gets…”
“I already got my present,” Shane said. “What did you get her?”
“I’m not telling,” Kevin said. “It’s a surprise.”
“Hey, Uncle Shane.” Theresa was in the kitchen. She looked just like her mother. On the taller side, but not quite as tall as his sister. Theresa wasn’t shy, but she tended to be reserved. Quiet. Into her studies. She wanted to go to medical school and be a pediatrician. Anna had said her decision was based on all the problems Kevin had faced in his life. She wanted to make a difference in the world. “Dinner will be ready in forty-five minutes, give or take. Though I doubt this will be as good as Grandma’s. I can never get it just right. I swear she doesn’t give out all the ingredients just, so no one can make it as good as her.”
“Probably right.” Shane sat on the stool at the breakfast bar, watching Kevin fiddle with the Xbox remote. “Plan on six-thirty. I need to do something first. Do your chart?” Shane asked Kevin.
“I did. It’s on the counter.”
Shane glanced between Kevin and Theresa, realizing that neither one of them was going to show it to him. He waited two full minutes before standing, then checked the notebook, noting that everything appeared fine. “I need to go make a few calls and take care of something.”
“That’s code for, ‘I’m going to watch the news and I don’t want you to watch it because it’s about a case you’re working on,’” Kevin said. “We’re supposed to bring articles to school, so we can discuss current events both locally and globally. I’ve got one due on Monday.” Kevin dropped the controller on the sofa and stood in front of his father. Hands on his hips. Feet shoulder-width apart. Much like Shane always stood. “I’m not a baby anymore. I’m double digits. And everyone in school is talking about the congressman’s daughter who was killed. I assume that’s your big case.”
“He’s right, Uncle Shane,” Theresa said, still stirring the sauce. “Better to know what’s going on in the world than to be ignorant.”
Shane thought about it for a moment. So many changes, but it was difficult to ignore how happy his son was at school, and in life. “All right,” Shane said. “But understand there are things I won’t be able to talk to you about, and it’s best you not tell the other kids at school that I could be working on anything they hear in the news. Got it?”
“Yep.” Kevin quickly snagged the remote and turned on the television. “What news station do you like?”
“ABC,” Shane said, still staring at his son. He looked so much like Janet. She’d been a good mother, the best, always attentive to Kevin’s needs. She’d been Shane’s rock for years and he’d just started to get used to the idea of living alone again when Kara walked back into his life, stirring things in him that were both thrilling and terrifying.
“Beer?” Theresa dangled one in front of him. “You look like you could use one.”
“Thanks.” He knew Janet would want him to get on with his life, but did that mean being with Kara again?
Kevin had sat back down on the sofa. He rifled through his backpack, pulling out a folder and a notebook.
Shane shook his head. “He’s growing up too fast.”
Theresa laughed. “My mother cried so hard when I left to come here, I thought she was going to change her mind and not let me bring my car.”
“Your mother’s always been emotional and dramatic. Being Mike’s twin, and less than two years younger than Dave, and the only girl, she got picked on a lot.”
“She says they were downright mean, but you not so bad.”
“That’s because I’m six years younger and she picked on me,” Shane said. “Turn it up, little man.”
“I really hate being called that,” Kevin said.
“Is that your high school sweetheart standing behind the captain?” Theresa asked.
Shane’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it quickly. It was Kara. “One and the same,” he said as he lifted the phone to his ear. “I take it the press conference isn’t live since I’m about to watch it?”
“Ended about fifteen minutes ago,” she said. “Can we talk tonight?”
“Come on over. My niece made my mom’s sauce.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Shane ended the call and sat on the sofa, looping his arm around his son. “Theresa, I hope you have enough food for one more. Kara is joining us.”
“I’m just like Grandma. I only know how to cook for an army,” she said.
“That FBI agent on TV was your girlfriend once?” Kevin pressed the volume button a few more times as Kara made her way to the podium to represent the FBI’s interest in this investigation. “She looks familiar. Aren’t there pictures of her at Grandma’s?”
“I dated her before I met mom,” Shane said. “I took her to my senior prom and she used to babysit a couple of your cousins.”
“Are you---”
“Shhh,” Shane said. “After this is over.”
“We’re working with the Rochester Police Department in a joint task force,” Kara said, her hands gripped the podium, eyes focused right at the cameras. The way she commanded the room was impressive. Shane was almost disappointed he’d missed it live.
“We have three victims we believe have all been killed by the same person.”
Lights snapped, and a few reporters shouted out questions. A very poised Kara held up her hand. “All I can tell you right now is that we’re talking with a few persons of interest. If anyone has any information they believe is pertinent to these murders, please call the number at the bottom of your screen. Thank you.” She turned, and walked away gracefully, taking her place next to the Chief of Police as the reporter for the station recapped what they understood about the murders.
Then the news cut to commercial.
“Are you working with her?” Kevin asked.
Shane checked his phone. Kara had sent a text that she was ten minutes out. “I am,” Shane said.
“And she’s coming here?”
Shane nodded.
“That is so cool!” Kevin jumped off the sofa, but then stopped suddenly and turned to face Shane. “I don’t get to tell the kids at school I met her, do I?”
Shane shook his head. “Maybe when this is all over I can talk her into coming to your school. Then you can tell them you met her way before they did.”
“Okay,” Kevin said. “I’ll set another plate!”
“Aren’t you supposed to watch all the news?” Shane asked.
“Oh. Yeah. We’ve got to write a paragraph about the stories. And then a paragraph about what we thought and felt. I could do it tomorrow, but we’re going to Grandma’s for the day.”
“Better sit here then.” Shane patted the sofa. “You need help, Theresa?”
“Nope. You’re paying me the big bucks to cook, clean, and take care of my favorite little cousin.”
“And I didn’t even get the family discount.” Shane glanced at his son’s homework paper, forcing himself not to check his forehead, a habit he needed to break. The doctor had been right. School was good for him. Theresa was good for him.
And now he was going to meet Kara.
Would that be good for his son?
* * *
Shane was a tad startled at how well dinner had gone. Kevin and Kara got along like they’d known each other their entire lives. There didn’t seem to be any awkward silences, and Kara more than enjoyed the magic show Kevin had put on. All in all, it had been a good evening. But now that Kevin was in bed, and Theresa was studying, he had a moment to be alone with Kara.
He rubbed his sweaty palms like a boy on his first date. “Hey,” he said as he turned the corner from the staircase to the living room. He wasn’t much of a decorator, and when he bought this place he’d wanted a fresh start. It was too hard to have so many constant reminders of Janet. He’d kept all the things that really meant something to her and their son; otherwise, new digs, new furniture.
Kara sat on the brown leather sofa across from the fireplace, looking out the front window. His breath hitched. Her dark hair shone in the soft light from the lamp next to her. In a million years, he never thought he’d lay eyes on her again, much less see her sitting in his living room. “What did you want to talk about?” He settled in on the other side of the sofa, picking up the remote to the fireplace. It had felt weird to have a gas fireplace at first, but he’d gotten used to it. The flames crackled to life as they set off a soft fiery glow.
“A couple of things.” Kara tucked her one foot under her butt and faced him. “Business first?”
Shane nodded.
“You okay with being the lead detective on an official joint task force?”
“I am,” Shane said. “I like the team we’ve assembled so far. I also like the way we’ve been working. I don’t want that to change.”
“I’m not going to leave you hanging.”
“Professionally,” Shane said. “I believe that.”
Kara leaned over, looking up the stairs. “You sure you want to talk about the case here? Maybe we should step outside.”
“It’s too cold,” Shane said. “Besides, if he’s not sound asleep from having a long day, he’s under his blanket reading. And he knows that if I bring work home, unless he’s on fire, he’s to stay in his room.”
“You don’t think he’s at the top of the stairs? Listening?”
“He’s not the nosey type.” Shane shook his head. “Besides, I’d hear him. The floorboards between his room and the stairs creak. Unless the television is on he’s not getting passed that, and really, he gets it that sometimes work comes home. When Jones is here, he’ll call from the top of the stairs before coming down.”
Kara tucked her hair behind her ears. It was something she did when she was either excited or nervous. She didn’t look like she was either. “We did a widespread search on the organ black market. We’ve got four large rings, as I told you, but the most interesting thing was that our analyst found a case from the early nineties where a man in Louisiana was collecting organs for some ritual to bring back the dead. He took them from people he referred to as witches. Non-believers to be sacrificed in the name of his god to cure the sick.”
“I think that was a case I studied in school. It made national news.” Shane’s mind had splintered in all sorts of different directions once he realized the killer was collecting organs.
Shane leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He mentally went over every detail stored in his memory about each of the cases. They weren’t related. They didn’t travel in the same circles. Didn’t even live in the same area. Nothing added up. “Was Iris Catholic?” Shane knew the Cleary’s were Catholic. So was Gregory, but according to his family and friends he didn’t attend church at all. He didn’t have much to go on with Iris. The second team of detectives was still interviewing family and friends. Those reports would be on his desk in the morning.
“No. Jewish actually.” Kara pulled out her tablet and fired it up before handing it to Shane. “I sent this to you, but take a look now.”
Shane took the tablet. “What is it?”
“Victimology of Emily and Gregory. Waiting for your other detectives to file reports on Iris before we pull that one together.”
Shane looked at the glowing tablet. “Give me the Cliffs Notes version.”
“Gregory helped coach soccer at the YMCA and was a referee for travel youth soccer.”
“Emily played travel soccer,” Shane said.
Kara nodded. “Two years ago, Gregory volunteered as an assistant coach for the age level that Emily was in. His team played hers twice. Both times, they lost by a lot. Other than that, and the museum, we can’t find anywhere else their lives might have crossed.”
“We need to interview both coaches. See if they remember an incident involving either one of them. What about Iris’s kid? Did he play soccer?”
“I called the father and, sure enough, Iris’s boy is into soccer. She went to games as much as she could, according to the father. He says he and Iris didn’t fight much. Did what was best for their son. The step-mother said she and Iris were friendly enough.”
“It’s Saturday, so we should get some forensics back by Monday.” Shane held the tablet in his hand, looking at the words, but he preferred to listen to Kara’s voice. “Curious to see what we get from the fibers the M.E. found in Iris’s hand, or what organ is missing.” Shane pulled out his phone and texted the second detective team to look into the soccer connection as best they could, considering the late hour. “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us tomorrow.” Shane handed back the tablet, dropping his head to the cushion on the back of the sofa again. He rubbed his temples. “I suspect if we don’t figure this out in the next couple of days, we’ll have another dead body come Thursday.”
“I want to taunt the killer,” Kara said.
“You already did that.”
“Not really,” she said. “I want Cleary to give a statement when I do my next press conference.”
“About what?”
“About how good a job we’re doing tracking down the killer.”
“He won’t go for that.”
“If we give him the details, he sure as shit will. Right now, all that he and the public know is that we have three murders that have brought the Feds to town. The press is asking questions, begging for details, and reporting on our presence. But they don’t know about the candles or the organs, and I don’t think we can keep that quiet much longer.”
“Are you suggesting we leak information?”
“You know as well as I do that we’re going to have to give them something before things are leaked from other sources and we lose control of how we want this to play out.”
“Dangerous game.” Shane rolled his head to gauge Kara’s expression. She sat on the other side of the couch, her back to the armrest. Her legs were folded over one another, her elbows on her knees as she leaned in a tad. Her facial expression was stoic. Unemotional. And impossible to read.
“The killer has left no clues that we understand. Normally in cases like these, the killer wants credit. He wants the press to give him a name. He wants notoriety.”
“So, you just want to piss him off.” Shane didn’t like the sound of that any more than he liked the good congressman giving a press conference. “Just to try to get him to taunt back.”
Kara nodded. “I’ve looked into two possible cases to use as a basis. The one that makes the most sense the press dubbed the Organ Slayer. He’s currently in a psych ward. He killed nine people. Each time he’d take something from the body.”
“Do we know why he did it? What do the shrinks all have to say?”
Kara contorted her face as if she’d just bitten into something sour. “He was frying the body parts and eating them. He’s a psychopath and legally insane, with no concept of right and wrong.”
“A regular Hannibal Lecter,” Shane said. “So, what do you plan on doing to taunt our killer, exactly?”
“This other killer was dubbed the Organ Slayer by the media. We want to call this guy a copycat of him, and a bad one at that.”
“Sounds like he could be, except we have no reason to believe our killer is eating body parts.”
“We don’t have any reason to believe he’s not,” Kara said. “Tomorrow, following the briefing and after we’ve all got our assignments, we’ll make an announcement—”
“So, you’ve already decided taunting the killer is the best move?”
“With no leads, it’s our only move.”
Shane let out a long breath. She was right. They had nothing. Not even a direction. A long moment of silence followed. The only noise was the heater kicking on and off. It was odd how easy it was to converse with Kara about work. A natural ebb and flow between them. Like they’d been doing this for years, but it didn’t help ease the growing tension between them.
“That it?” he asked.
“That’s it for business,” she said.
Shane rolled his head toward her again. She had pulled her knees up to her chest. Her arms folded around her legs and her cheek rested on her knees. Her eyes were focused out the window.
“Was there something else you wanted to talk about?” Shane asked.
“To say thank you for Friday. For bringing the flowers. For being there with me again after all these years. I really do appreciate it.”
“You’ve already thanked me,” he said, inching closer.
She turned her head, catching his gaze. Holding it for a long moment. “I guess I just wanted to see you. Meet your son. Know your life.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” His knee touched her toes as he rested his hand on the back of the sofa, running his fingers through her hair, ignoring the inner voice telling him to stop or at least slow down. “Kevin thinks you’re cool.”
“I like him.” She raised her head, letting her one leg drop to the side; the other leaned against the back of the sofa. “We’re playing with fire.”
“I like things hot.” He pressed his lips against hers, applying slight pressure before deepening the kiss. Her body relaxed as he felt her hands on his shoulders, her legs stretching out over his lap. He cupped the nape of her neck with one hand, the other hand rested just under the swell of her breast. Her lips and tongue danced with his like an old waltz. Slow. Tender, then occasionally picking up the pace, only to slow it down to a mere brushing of the lips.
Gently, he slid her body down the sofa alongside his. Their lips were still entwined in a wet and sloppy kiss. Carefully, as if he were doing it for the first time, he pulled her shirt out of her slacks and glided his hands across her stomach. His knee pressed between her legs. Her hands gripped his neck and shoulders, digging her fingers into his muscles. Her lips frantically rubbed against his. He wanted to ravish her, taking all that he could, filling himself with every inch of her body. He remembered every curve. Every sensitive spot.
Her chest heaved up and down with her raspy breath. He felt like a teenager all over again. It was both exciting and terrifying to have her in his arms. He pressed his hand over her lacy bra; he could feel her hard nipple through the thin layer of fabric. He fanned his thumb across the nub and was rewarded with a soft moan as she dropped her head back onto the arm of the sofa. He kissed her soft neck as he shifted his body, giving him a better view of her breasts. He found the small clasp of her front-clasping bra and worked it between his fingers until it popped open. He pushed the fabric aside and held the perky mound in his hand, sliding his tongue down her throat, second-guessing why he’d chosen to go under the shirt instead of unbuttoning the shirt. Now he had to release her perfect breast to open her blouse.
He shifted so both hands could work the buttons. He’d opened the top three, which gave him the perfect view of the most perfect taut nipple. “Still perky,” he mused.
“Shane,” she whispered. “Stop.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I can tell.” She quickly covered her breast by clutching at her shirt. “We forgot about Theresa, who just cleared her throat. I think she’s at the top of the stairs.”
“Shit.” He reached inside Kara’s shirt, groaning as he pulled her bra back around her breasts. They had been just as he remembered. He’d never seen breasts like hers. Ever. Nothing could ever compare to Kara in any way. He sat up, helping Kara to a sitting position while she fumbled, trying to tuck in her shirt. “I didn’t tell her about the rules when work comes home.”
“That had nothing to do with work,” Kara said.
“True. I’ll have to add a new rule about women.”
“Uncle Shane?” Theresa’s voice rang out. “I need to get something.”
“You can come down,” he said. “I didn’t hear the creak in the stairs,” he whispered in Kara’s ear.
“Oh hey, Kara,” Theresa said. “Didn’t know you were still here.” But Theresa’s smile said otherwise. “I left a couple of books I need. I’ll be out of your way in a jiffy.”
“I was just leaving,” Kara said.
“You don’t have to leave,” he said.
“It’s late and…” she paused. “It’s late.
Taking the hint, he said, “I’ll walk you to the car.”
“Always the gentleman.” Kara smiled sweetly.
“It was nice to meet you,” Theresa said. “Hope to see you again soon.”
“You too,” Kara said.
Once outside, Shane pulled open the door of her SUV. His body shivered from the cold as it bit through his shirt. His trousers barely kept his legs warm. She tossed her stuff across to the passenger side, but then turned back.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“I wish I knew,” he said. “When this case is over, you’ll go back to D.C. and I’ll be here. With my son.”
“I know.” Her gaze dropped to the ground. “I still care about you.”
He cupped her face and dropped his forehead to hers. “I care about you, too.” He pressed her against the side of the SUV and took her mouth a little too harshly. Her tongue was as eager as his to engage in another dance, but he broke it off quickly. “We’re different people than we were thirteen years ago.”
“Sometimes we don’t act like it,” she whispered. “Not sure this can continue.”
“Not sure we can stop it.” To prove his point he kissed her again, this time cupping her breast, finding her nipple with his forefinger and thumb and twisting it gently.
“You don’t play fair,” she said.
“I just know what you like.”
She smiled up at him, her hand on his chest, slowing lowering it until her fingers gripped his belt. He stared down at her hand for a moment. “I can play that game, too.”
“I haven’t had sex in two years, so I’m not past doing it in a car,” he said. There was no control when it came Kara. He wanted her, and he was going to have her. If not right now, then tomorrow, or the next day. He’d deal with the consequences later.
“I have to go.” She pushed him back, then climbed into her truck.
“Before you pull up to the hotel, you might want to fix your shirt. I managed to unbutton one or two again.”
“Two Houdini’s in the family. Great.”
“Just horny,” he said. “Drive safe. Text me when you get into your room, okay?”
She nodded. “Sleep well.”
“Only if you join me in my dreams.”