After Midnight (18 page)

“Great visual. Thanks for that.”

He flashed her his familiar grin. “Mr. Jacobi had an alibi, and there doesn’t seem to be anything suspicious about his insurance, so he’s probably out. But Jim did bring up something we haven’t discussed.”

“What’s that?”

“Is it possible that someone would do something to you to get back at your father? Are there any skeletons from Texas that we need to worry about?”

“Wow, that could be a long list. Politicians always have people who either don’t agree with them or aren’t happy with how they’re doing their job. I’m sure my father has people who would like to see him hurt. But I’ve been so far out of the picture for several years that I can’t believe someone would go to that trouble.”

“Children are usually the most direct route to get someone’s attention. Could you put together a list of anyone you can remember who had a particularly negative relationship with your father?”

“Sure. I’ll do what I can, but I really tried to keep my distance from his politics.”

“If you can be Googled, you can be found.”

“Did you Google me?”

He shrugged. “Of course I did. I couldn’t invite just anyone to move in with me.”

“Oh, so now I’m
anyone
.”

They were standing side by side at the sink in the kitchen, working together loading the dishwasher. He closed the dishwasher door and wiped his hands. Leaning his hip against the counter, he looked down at her.

“No, you are the
only
one.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. She knew what she
hoped
he meant, but she wanted to hear it.

“How’s that?”

“Like I said before, you are the only woman I’ve ever asked to move in with me.”

“Temporarily?”

“No, permanently, or at least until you decide to move on.” His expression was trying to be neutral, but his eyes revealed his fear that he would be hurt again. “I’ll help you find a car and a job. But I really want you to consider staying here…with me.”

It wasn’t a proposal, but then, she couldn’t make him any promises about how long she would stay. For now, it was enough.

She held out her hand as if to seal their deal. He solemnly shook it, then pulled her into his arms.

“You’re the only one who has ever completely driven me crazy like this,” he murmured, his lips against her lips. “Just standing next to you with wet hands and smelling like lemons turns me on.” He gave her a deep, long kiss that took her breath away. She leaned her whole body against his, and the hard bulge in his jeans reinforced his words.

His fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress, and she felt the cool air against her skin as he lowered the zipper and her dress fell open. He nudged it off her shoulders and it fell to the floor in a white puddle at her feet.

Standing in the kitchen wearing only a bra and panties was oddly sensual. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. She was anxious to feel his warm flesh against her skin. His kisses grew increasingly frantic as her hands moved to the waistband of his jeans, which popped open because of the pressure against the zipper.

With a groan, he picked her up in his arms. “I’m too old to make love on the kitchen floor when there’s a king-sized bed in the other room.”

She nodded her agreement and wrapped her arms around his neck for the short trip to the bedroom. Without pulling back the bedspread, he laid her down, then stepped back to look at her while stripping off his clothes.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed, and she felt like she was. At least in his eyes—and those were the only ones she wanted to see her. He stood there a few seconds longer, and her own eyes filled themselves with the magnificence of his body.

The drapes were open, allowing the late afternoon sunlight to spill into the room. She never tired of looking at him. The bruise on his chest was fading and hardly noticeable against the bronze of his skin. He no longer wore a bandage, but the incision was puckered and red across one broad shoulder.

But her gaze was drawn lower, down the ridges of his abdomen to his swollen manhood, so large and ready for her. Her own body twisted in anticipation at the evidence of his passion. She felt the now-familiar flutter deep within her that ached to be relieved by him…only him.

He leaned over for a kiss that was quick but filled with promise as his hands moved to unsnap her bra and toss it aside. He slipped her panties down her legs and she helped by kicking them off. With one last lingering look at her totally nude body, he moved over her.

This time his kiss was deeper and hungrier. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she stroked it with her own. He groaned and lifted his hand to cover her breast. His palm was calloused and rough against her skin and brought all her nerve endings to high alert. When he lowered his mouth to capture her nipple, the pulse deep in the center of her femininity throbbed.

She could wait no longer, and reached down to caress him, loving the feel of his maleness, all velvet-covered steel. She moved him down until the tip was touching the moist opening between her legs.

The touch of her hand guiding him in was more than he could resist. Smoothly, he eased inside of her, then pulled out and pushed in again. And again and again. Faster and faster. Her fingernails dug into his back, urging him on. Her hips lifted to meet his thrusts and she cried his name as the orgasm ripped through her, exploding in a burst of passion so powerful she thought she would pass out.

She could feel herself tighten around him, rippling along his length as he pushed in as deeply as possible until he, too, cried out as he climaxed. He collapsed on her, but rolled until most of his weight was on his left side. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as their breathing slowed. His warm breath ruffled her hair, and she felt his soft kiss on top of her head. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard him whisper, “Please don’t leave,” but the words were so soft and muffled that she couldn’t be certain. At the moment, there was no place she’d rather be than here, in his arms, in his bed. It was easy to ignore the world outside. But the clock was ticking for them both.

Soon he would be returning to work, and she was very aware of her vulnerability when he wasn’t around. She was having difficulty believing that someone wanted her dead. But she couldn’t ignore that the threats seemed to be escalating.

She snuggled closer to him and sighed. He was the one good thing that had come from all this. Hopefully, she and their relationship would survive.

The next day Sam stopped by the mailbox on his way back from PT. He flipped through the envelopes and froze when he saw the one from an insurance company that was clearly a check.

For a moment he was tempted to hide it and not tell Kate it had arrived. It was a symbol of freedom to them both. For her, it would provide transportation to get to work. For him, it was a nightmare because she would be out there alone, at the mercy of whoever was after her.

He still couldn’t guess the motive. He was at a huge disadvantage by not actually working the case. He had to rely on information pumped from Jim, the crime lab, and anyone else at the station who might be involved. It was frustrating to be on the outside. And frightening.

He had dropped off the hundred-dollar bill that morning and asked for a rush. The crime lab technician hadn’t been too encouraging, and even Sam knew it was a shot in the dark. But he couldn’t just stand by until the killer succeeded in whatever twisted goal he had.

Adding her father’s political enemies to the pool made the case even murkier. But the attempts on her hadn’t seemed to be professional hits…or she would already be dead. Why? Who? Those questions whirled around in his head, driving him crazy but providing no answers. So far.

He tucked the envelope back into the stack and went upstairs. Kate looked up from the computer as he opened the door and gave him a welcoming smile.

“How’s the shoulder?”

“My therapist can’t believe how fast it’s healing. She said I must be giving it quite a workout at home.” He gave her a lazy wink. “I told her my girlfriend was relentless, always forcing me to have sex.”

“You did not!” Kate sputtered.

“Okay, I told her that I had a hot girlfriend that I couldn’t resist making mad, passionate love to all night long.” He walked over to her and leaned in for a kiss.

“Better.” She smiled and reached up to stroke his face.

He knew as he looked into her eyes that he couldn’t keep it from her, so he pulled the envelope out and dropped it into her lap.

“Ready to go pick out a car?” he asked.

She jumped to her feet. “You bet.”

“I have a friend who posted a car for sale notice on the bulletin board at the station. Why don’t we start with that?” he suggested, and Kate eagerly agreed.

Sam’s friend turned out to be an ex-cop who had a bright red 2004 Jeep Liberty he needed to sell so he could buy a new Camaro. Kate completely fell in love with the car, even more so when she found out he was willing to take the exact amount of her insurance check.

As she followed Sam back to the condo, she reveled in having taken one step toward regaining her life. She was still sad about her cute little yellow Escape, but this new car was two years younger and would take her through whatever weather Colorado dumped on her.

She insisted on driving her new car to the theater the next day although Sam sat in the passenger seat. He had reasoned that as long as she was in danger and he was not working, he should be going with her. And to be perfectly honest, she felt more comfortable knowing he was in the back of the theater, watching out for her.

The next day while Sam was at PT, Kate decided to run to the grocery store and buy ingredients she could cook for a special dinner. Having her car had given her a much-needed boost. Having to rely on someone for transportation even to the store was humbling. With a car, she had the freedom to choose where she wanted to go, where she wanted to work, and where she wanted to live.

And now that she had the ability to choose, she knew she wanted to stay with Sam. She just needed to be certain that he wanted her for the right reasons. Was it because he was programmed to help people? Was she a stray he had adopted off the streets? Was it because she had needed his protection, and it fulfilled some sort of instinct within him? Or was it just the sex?

Had her mom been alive, she would probably have been horrified at how quickly Kate had fallen into Sam’s bed. But she felt no guilt or shame. She loved him. She wanted to spend every possible second with him for as long as they were meant to be together. She had no regrets for anything she and Sam had done. And, she had to admit, the sex was terrific. Because it was created from love made it even better.

After the grocery store, she decided to swing by her old apartment for the first time since the fire. The sight of the blackened pile of bricks, the broken windows, and the boarded-up bookstore sickened her. If she was truly the target of some maniac, she was responsible for all of those people losing their homes, however seedy they might have been. And Mr. Jacobi’s shop was ruined. Even if his insurance covered all the damage, there was the inconvenience and the lost revenue. He had loved that bookstore. The city of Denver had loved that bookstore. It had anchored the corner of that building for more than eighty years and was almost a historical landmark.

As she surveyed the pile of bricks and rubble, she was struck by what a miracle it was that no one had died. If Sam hadn’t roused many of the residents and hustled them downstairs before the fire department arrived, several of them would have probably either burned to death or died from smoke inhalation. She had heard that a half dozen people had gone to the hospital with various injuries. So much collateral damage…all because of her.

And she couldn’t forget that she had indirectly gotten Larry and Jameel killed and Sam badly injured. It was a nightmare she couldn’t seem to awaken from.

Was it time to call her father? Would he be able to come up with some names of possible suspects? As much as she wanted that, she hesitated. Getting her father involved would undo everything she had been trying to do for herself. She had never lived outside his overpowering shadow, and she loved the feeling of freedom she had had before this new shadow darkened her life.

And she wasn’t sure she wanted her unsettled relationship with Sam to be touched by the sticky fingers of her father’s political machine. She would rather let her future with Sam, whatever that may be, progress naturally.

She parked in the parking lot, which was still littered with charred mattresses and other debris that had been dragged out of the building. Unfortunately, she had been unable to get the rest of her things out of her apartment. Linens, kitchen items, and a few personal things had been consumed in the fire. But she knew many of the others had lost
everything—their
clothes, their shoes, whatever jewelry and other sentimental items they may have had. Probably none of them had had renters insurance, so they were screwed.

The theme song from
Fame
blasted from her phone, startling her. She pulled it from her pocket, glanced at the screen, and frowned when she saw it was Brian. Her mind scrambled to think why his name was in her phone, then she remembered that she had programmed it in the week before when he had offered her a ride to the airport.

“Hello.”

“Hey, what’re you doing?” Brian asked.

“How did you get my number?” She was pretty sure she hadn’t given it to him.

“I called the emergency number on the front door of the bookstore, and Mr. Jacobi gave it to me.”

Kate made a mental note to discuss privacy issues with her ex-boss.

Brian must have sensed her displeasure, because he quickly added, “He didn’t want to tell me at first. But when I told him my news, he knew you’d want to hear from me.”

“What news?” she asked without any real interest. Frankly, if it was about another award or parade or official pat on the back, she was going to scream.

“You’ve probably heard that the road show of
Les Misérables
is coming to town next week, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she answered cautiously. If he told her he had been cast in the role of Jean Valjean, she was going to scream twice.

“I got it from a good source that the cast has been passing around a vicious case of the stomach flu. Today only, they are auditioning for locals to be in the chorus.”

“The chorus of
Les Miz
!” He had her attention now.

“That’s right. And you’re one of the first to hear about it.”

Kate did a little happy dance in the parking lot, then realized how silly she must look and hurried back to her car. “Is it an open call?”

“No, it’s closed. Invitation only.”

Her heart sank as rapidly as her excitement had risen.

“But…” He drew it out into three long syllables. “I happen to know the director, and he has agreed to let you audition.”

This time Kate couldn’t resist a silent
Yes!
“When and where?”

“I thought it might help if I made the introduction personally. Can you meet me at the Buell Theatre outside the elevators on the street level, say in…fifteen minutes?”

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “I won’t have time to change clothes.”

“Not necessary. He won’t be looking at your clothes.”

“Sure, of course, yes, I’ll be there.” She felt that familiar flutter of nerves in her stomach, but the short notice would keep her from getting a full-blown attack. “And thanks,” she added, feeling a touch of shame for all the bad thoughts she had had about Brian.

The theater was only about ten minutes away, so she took a moment to call Sam.

His phone went straight to voice mail, which she interpreted to mean he was still in PT. “Hi, Sam. You won’t believe this, but I’ve got an audition for a part in
Les Miz
! Brian knows the director, and he’s going to give me a personal introduction. I’m on my way there now. I’ve got special plans for dinner. See you then.”

She hung up and tossed her phone into her purse. As she wound her way around the curves on Colfax that skirted Civic Center Park, she prayed fervently that she would get the part. Most road shows brought full casts, but occasionally, as in this case, substitutes had to be found. If she could get on that short list, she would not only be able to work in a major production and gain valuable exposure and experience, but she would be busy—busy enough to stay in Denver. And, of course, the money would be much better than any local shows.

This audition could be the big break she had been hoping for. And she wouldn’t have to leave Sam. Win-win.