Ash Rising (DEAd Series) (21 page)

Emma refused to scurry down the hall as she exchanged quick greetings and smiles with colleagues who hailed her along the way. She moved fast enough to make sure no one would stop her and focused on the women’s lounge, where she could collapse for a second in private and get herself together.

She was attracted to Inspector Asher Beaulieu. Hah. Attracted didn’t begin to cover it.

The heavy weight of sexual tension had been obvious in the conference room. Judging by his actions, he felt the pull, too, and that made the situation worse. She could deal if her attraction was one-sided, she could admire him, appreciate the tight coil in her belly being near him caused, and dismiss the reaction. But him returning the interest, no matter how grudgingly… Yeah. Like tossing fuel on the fire. A sticky situation. She didn’t work with him, not directly, but he was involved in the investigation she conducted alongside the RCMP. He was both a part of the operation, and he wasn’t. He was a suspect, but he wasn’t. Getting involved with him would be messy, both personally and professionally, and Emma didn’t like messes.

The best thing would be to appreciate him from afar, but stay the hell away from the good-looking, compelling, wounded inspector.

“Special Agent.”

She hadn’t realized she’d slowed her determined pace until she heard his deep voice from behind. Emma closed her eyes and stole a second to shore her defenses. She stopped and turned, took a small step back when she found him too close for comfort. Definitely too close to maintain the recent determination to keep her distance.

“Yes, Inspector? What can I do for you?” At least her tone sounded detached and professional.

His gaze roamed her face as he opened his mouth, but he shut it after a brief pause. Heavy brows lowered with his frown. “What the hell was that back there?”

“I’m not sure I follow.” She fought to keep a cool tone. He was close. And, damn it, even more compelling. Personal. He smelled good. Bet he tasted even better.

Ugh, stop
!

His mouth twisted impatiently. “Not the questions—I get those. The fingering your blouse thing.”

His finger traced her top button, and her breath caught when the tip rasped across bare skin in the process. His gaze flared at the reaction before narrowing, and the corners of his mouth tipped up. Emma took a step back so he no longer touched her.

“What was the fondling your lip thing?”

He cocked an arrogant brow, and she brought her thumb up to demonstrate, rubbing the pad against her bottom lip before sucking the tip into her mouth and pulling out with a pop. She definitely didn’t mistake the flash of heat in his expression before his features went hard with affront.

“I did not suck my finger.” His marvelous eyes narrowed and head tipped
when she imitated the cock of his arrogant brow. “Maybe you just wanted me to. Is that it?”

The blast of temper shot out her ears. She wrestled to keep the scathing retort from passing her lips.

“This is inappropriate, Inspector,” she managed to say evenly.

For some reason, her response visibly drained the anger from his body. “You’re right, Special Agent.”

“I am?” she asked with a slow blink.

“Yes. My apologies.”
He smiled, a true smile. If she thought him attractive before, the grin lighting his face sent him straight to stunning. He’d morphed from stern and forbidding to relaxed and charming in seconds. Keeping up with the rapid and drastic changes was near impossible.

“Yes, well… I guess I’m sorry, too.” She stared suspiciously at the hand he held out before doing the same, jerking when his fingers wrapped around hers, warm, strong, and encompassing. He stared at their joined hands for a second before looking back up at her.

“If I think of anything that can help with your investigation, I’ll let you know. I’m just as interested as you in finding out who killed the Salvatores.”

“I appreciate your assistance, Inspector.” She waited a beat, but he continued to hold her hand. “Thank you.”

Her gaze flickered down to where he still clasped her hand, and he suddenly let go, rubbing his fingertips on his thigh as if to settle a tickle in his palm. She recognized the gesture, because she did it, too. He noticed at the same time, and they laughed awkwardly.

“Well, I should be…” Emma gestured down the hall, but she didn’t move, just stood and stared. She shouldn’t stare. She should get back to her office. He shouldn’t fascinate her, but he did. Damn him and those pretty blue eyes.

“Yeah.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck and grimaced a smile. Emma read the conflict on his face but refused to acknowledge the sentiment. She wouldn’t be able to resist if he even hinted he experienced the same attraction she did, so she refused to consider the possibility. At least, not until later, when he wasn’t standing in front of her. “Anyway, Special Agent. Like I said, if you need anything else from me, let me know.”

Proud of the noncommittal smile she forced across her lips and the strength of her voice, she gave nothing away. “I will. Thank you again, Inspector.”

Ash stood in the middle of the hall as she walked away from him, giving her time to get on the elevator and up to her floor before he even went near the lift. No way he’d take a chance on running into her again, especially in such a small, semi-private space. He shouldn’t have approached her in the first place—he should have stayed in the conference room until she was safely ensconced in her office. Pete’s words came back to him, and while he didn’t give them credence, he couldn’t deny the fact he’d pretty much accosted Special Agent Justice in the hallway.

He also couldn’t deny she was a beautiful woman. The snug, conservative suit hugged curves that made her taut body lethal and showcased downright amazing legs. The combination of feminine and sexy while still being professional and competent heated his blood, as did her quick, shrewd mind and striking green eyes. She liked looking at him—he recognized feminine appreciation when he saw it—but she didn’t like his attitude. Fair enough, because he didn’t like his attitude much, either. His demeanor had become a familiar, safe wall to hide behind.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, and he turned to find Pete walking toward him balancing a stack of files and his laptop.

“Come up to my office.” Pete didn’t comment on catching Ash in the middle of the hallway staring down its length. “We can chat about what your Special Agent Justice didn’t tell you.”

“She’s not my anything,” he muttered and followed Pete toward the elevators he’d been avoiding.

He entered the squad room behind Pete and ran into Andy along the way. Ash slowed for Andy’s uneven gait, tamping down his usual flash of guilt and remorse. At least he still had a chance to recover and get back out in the field someday, unlike his friend. Ash’s injuries had been severe, but nowhere near as permanent as Andy’s. Or Daniel’s. Or Liz’s.

“How’s the leg?” Despite his best effort to hold Andy’s gaze, his eyes dropped to the pant leg that hid the prosthetic from view.

“Good as always.” Andy clapped him on the back and let his hand rest on Ash’s shoulder. “Lisa wants to have you over for dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

Andy’s fingers tensed briefly over the material of Ash’s shirt. “She invited Maggie. Told her to bring Abby.”

Vertigo, swift and disorienting, scrambled his guts. Andy he could face. Had to, working in the same office very day, recovering from devastating injuries together. Lisa had put her nursing degree to the test, browbeating them both through convalescence and months of rehabilitation. They had been his closest friends since childhood. Nothing could separate the three of them—four after Daniel came along—except for the bomb that had taken Daniel’s life and Andy’s leg. And Liz.

Oh, Lizzie. So sorry
.

But…Maggie. Daniel’s widow. His infant daughter, Abigail, Ash’s godchild. No way could he sit across the table from Maggie’s haunted eyes, her drawn cheeks. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Yeah, okay,” he gritted, eyes stinging. He’d come up with some excuse not to be there, but agreeing would get him off the hook for now. “Let me know.”

Andy’s narrowed gaze proved Ash hadn’t fooled his best friend at all, but Andy let the subject drop. “Heard you were interviewed by the American agent. What’d she want? They don’t think you were involved in the murders, do they?”

“Think she was testing me, trying to see my reaction. Fishing a little.”

He glanced up when Pete gestured impatiently from his door, summoning them both into his office. Ash waited until Andy sat and then took the chair next to him.

“Special Agent Justice has been UC working the Salvatores on both sides of the border. Right after Rico was killed, she overheard Gina talking with Leonard Moore—Slick—and Tommy Bianchi.”

Ash nodded. Tommy had been part of Rico’s intimate circle.

“They were discussing Rico’s death—who they thought might have had a part in it.” Pete focused on Ash. “They thought maybe you.”

“Me?” He shouldn’t be surprised. His name was likely at the top of a lot of lists where the murder of Rico Salvatore was concerned.

“Yeah. SA Justice heard them discussing the possibility you might have either killed Rico yourself or had it arranged. They thought you’d want payback for your parents. Liz and Daniel.”

Pete knew damn well he’d been in the office when Rico had been killed, but everything Special Agent Justice overheard was true. He could have easily arranged for someone else to murder the Salvatores or managed to find a way to do the job himself.

“I didn’t kill anyone, Pete. If I did, it would have been a lot more gruesome and definitely more painful. And no one would ever find the bodies.”

Pete scowled and heaved a breath, hands on hips
. “You can’t say things like that, Ash, not now, not even joking. I know you didn’t have anything to do with the murders, but both Salvatores are suspected of direct involvement with the bombing and your parents’ murder. You have good reason to want them dead.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Ash
tightened his jaw, the ache in his left arm an indication he’d done the same with his fists. He flattened his palms on the top of his thighs and sucked in a slow, careful breath. “You think I haven’t figured that out already?”

“Has anyone
considered maybe someone is after Ash? They’re either trying to set him up or might come after him next?” Andy’s quiet voice eased the tension between Ash and his boss. “You were part of Salvatore’s intimate circle for a while. If someone’s after them, they might come after you.”

Ash
got to his feet and stalked over to the narrow window. He was silent for a moment, and then his shoulders sagged as he sighed.

“Yeah. I’ve thought of that
. I’ve thought about how people close to me might be in danger again.” He glared unseeing out onto the street, refusing to look at Andy. He couldn’t look at Andy. “We’ve got to find who killed Rico and Gina. We’ve got find out before they start moving from the criminals to my friends again.”

“Or moving onto you,” Andy said.

Ash bounced his head against the thick pane of glass. He could handle someone threatening him, but he couldn’t bear it if…
No
. He wouldn’t allow anything to happen, not again. He thought of losing Andy or Lisa, even Pete, like he’d lost Daniel and…Liz.

Liz. He squeezed his eyes s
hut as the image of her pretty face rose in his mind, her laughing eyes, her voice. The memories didn’t hurt as much as they once had, which was worse. The ache was there but had lessened. He should agonize and suffer for the rest of his life for causing the death of such an innocent, beautiful girl. She’d loved him, and he’d killed her.

Flexing
his aching left arm out of habit, he rolled his shoulder and winced at the dull twinge from one of the many injuries that still plagued him. His hand fisted so his fingers couldn’t rub the thick, ragged scar running the length of his left thigh when the muscle and bone throbbed, as they often did when he let his guard down.

“Thanks to the media coverage of the explosion, pretty much everyone knows Ash was part of a RCMP undercover operation and not an actual member of Rico’s organization,” Pete pointed out. “No real reason for the cartel to come after him or anyone associated with him unless they hold a grudge, which is always a possibility.”

“The murders are probably unrelated to me. More likely someone was sick of Rico or wanted his territory, so they killed him and then Gina when she tried to continue his deals. When you’re involved all the shit Rico had going, someone always wants to take over, get rid of you. That’s the problem, isn’t it? Could be anyone for any reason. We just don’t know.”

“Not yet, but we will.” Pete studied Ash, his expression touched with concern. “Doing okay with all this?”

Ash glanced between Pete and Andy and then shrugged. “I’m glad Rico’s dead. Offended at the murders, but that’s the cop in me. Pissed, too. Really pissed. I wanted to hear him admit it—that he had my parents killed. Wanted to look him in the eye. I wanted that pretty fucking bad. To hear it from Gina, too—that she knew. Not just about my parents, but Liz. That she had a part in killing her friend. But I’m dealing with it.”

“You let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Pete told him. “You need to be careful, and not only because there’s a possibility someone might be after you. We’re riding a fine line with your involvement in this investigation, Inspector. With my official warning out of the way, I’d like to add that I appreciate any information and help you can give us, Ash.”