Dance Away, Danger (16 page)

Even with her worries, Tessa was willing to risk herself for justice and to see him settled in his uncomplicated world again. He choked back the lump of humility
lodged in his throat. She was definitely something else: smart, daring, and compassionate. He’d been part of the US military, with good, solid men to fight beside him, and still the woman’s support meant more to him than any he’d gotten from anyone else. He’d miss that when they walked away from each other. And when he left her, he’d go with a bit of a spring in his step, a tiny bit of hope that not all responsibility would cut out his soul. Sometimes, a partnership could work.

Her eyes shimmered, and she blinked. A lot. “I don’t like our options any more than you do, but talking to the widow is all we’ve got left. If we can find something to link Brian to an earlier version of Jason’s investigation, it will be worth it. If we don’t, we’re no worse off.”

“It’s still risky. She might not want to talk to us, or she could let us in the house then call 911.”

“We don’t have a choice.”

****

The snow fell steadily behind her as Tessa knocked on the front entrance of Mrs. Vera Koswich’s home. A pretty woman in her early thirties with long brown hair pushed the storm door open a fraction. When she caught sight of Matt, she grasped one elbow and stood stiff in the entryway. “Can I help you?”

“My name’s Tessa Gage, and this is Matt.” At her request, he remained at the bottom of the stairs, his hands at his sides. If the woman knew of their situation, Tessa didn’t want him to come across as any kind of threat.

Quickly, her eyes flew wide. “You’re the wanted couple.” She retreated into her home.

Tessa stuck her foot in the door’s path. “Please. I think my brother was investigating your husband’s death when he went missing.”

“Go on.”

“I don’t think Jason believed a drug dealer shot your husband. He wanted to prove who really killed him. When he started looking, someone went after him. We’ve picked up where Jason left off, and people are after us.”

Another frightened glance in Matt’s direction.

“Mrs. Koswich, I promise we don’t want to cause you any pain. I only want to find my brother and bring bad cops to justice. Please. Hear us out.”

She pursed her lips and studied both of them, probably weighing her options. In the end, she swung the door wide. Maybe she had doubts about her husband’s death, too.

“Thank you.” Tessa stepped into the house with Matt on her tail.

“Ma’am.” He nodded to the widow.

Vera led them into the living room and listened as they disclosed all the information they’d uncovered so far. Tessa laid out their suspicions.

The widow wrung her fingers on her knees. “What do you want from me?”

“We’ve read the articles about your husband’s death,” Matt told her. “And we know who was in the alley with him.”

“We have direct evidence linking the other three officers to some illegal activities.”

“I knew it.”

“Knew what, ma’am?”

“Brian became distant in the weeks before his death. When I asked him about it, he told me he was worried about his partner and some of the other officers—his friends, he thought. I suggested he talk to his sergeant, but he wouldn’t unless he had proof to offer.” She pushed her hair back off her shoulder. “I pleaded with him not to. He kissed my forehead, said it was his job, and promised to be careful.”

“Did he tell you what they were doing?” Tessa asked.

“No. He didn’t want me involved.”

“How long after you spoke was he killed?” Matt asked.

“About a month. He was himself again after that, and I thought maybe everything had worked out. Then he was killed in the line of duty.”

“Ma’am, who was your husband’s immediate supervisor?”

“Sergeant Whittaker.”

Tessa traded slim glances with Matt. The knots in her stomach tightened.

Matt focused on the widow again. “I realize it’s been a while since your husband’s death, but did you save any paperwork or anything he was working on?”

Vera stood. “We boxed all Brian’s things and left them in his home office. You’re welcome to go through them if you think you might find something to help you prove one of his colleagues killed him.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Matt asked as he and Tessa jumped to their feet.

“My family and Brian’s brothers. I couldn’t handle it all on my own, so they did most of the packing.”

She led them down a hallway and into a small room not much larger than a walk-in closet. The smell of dust, and cheap cigars assailed Tessa’s senses. Brian’s commendation, a photograph of him in his uniform, and another of him and Vera hung in a diagonal pattern on the wall above an ancient computer. At least ten cartons sat on and next to the desk, with one stuck in the wooden chair.

“At any time did his co-workers go through this stuff?” Matt asked.

“No. None of them came around much after the funeral.”

Matt sifted through the papers and artifacts Vera hadn’t been able to toss out.

“Here’s another.” She reached up on top of the file cabinet and coaxed another box free. Her arms shook with the weight of it and perhaps her emotions.

Matt rushed to her side and steadied the container before it fell on her head. “Here. Let me.”

She wrapped her arms around her midsection and stepped back out of his way. “Thank you.”

As if it weighed no more than a pair of tap shoes, he brought it down and set it on top of the one in the chair.

Tessa smiled. Just to see him jumping in to help someone not as strong as he was made her proud. He claimed he hated responsibility, but in their time together, he had never backed away from it. He didn’t complain half as much as he could have. One hundred percent hero in her book.
Damn.
She didn’t need any more reasons to fall in love with him.

She scanned the room. “It’s been thirteen months since Brian was killed, and I still can’t bring myself to open the room up or go through anything.” She swiped away a tiny teardrop as it fell.

“There’s no set timetable for grieving.” Tessa squeezed her arm. “You do the work when you’re ready.”

“Excuse me.” She hurried out the door.

Tessa watched her go.

“Tess.” Matt touched her elbow. When she turned to him, he continued, “Think about our objective here. We need to finish fast, go, and keep her safe.”

“Right. What am I searching for?”

“Anything that might lead to Walgren, Whittaker, or the two cops who came for you.”

She shuffled through the newspaper clippings of the days when the Patriots won the Super Bowl and a buttload of office supplies.

“Here.” He leaned toward her and held open a plain folder. “Reports of misconduct on Brian.” Matt’s all-too-familiar scent played with her nostrils and drifted deep inside her senses.

She scanned the pages as he flipped through them, but failed to understand his meaning. “How is this important?”

“Check out who signed off on each report. Whittaker.”

“All that proves is he was Brian’s supervisor. He had to write him up if things weren’t done right.”

“Then how come our dead officer hadn’t had any problems until about a month before he was killed?”

She planted her fists on her hips. “Why are you so determined to find evidence Whit’s involved?”

“Why are you so quick to come to his defense?”

The door to the room opened. Vera leaned on the door frame. “I forgot to tell you your brother called and asked to meet with me.”

Tessa asked, “When?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Did he say why?” Matt flipped the folder closed.

“No. We made plans, but he went missing before we could meet.”

“Did anyone else know about the meeting?”

“Not unless Jason mentioned it to someone. I certainly didn’t.”

“Has anyone else from the department contacted you in the last month?” he asked.

“No. I talked to a few officers at the Thanksgiving event, but that was normal.”

“Thank you. All the information we’ve gotten from you and your husband’s notes helps.” He gave Vera a light smile.

Helped ? How? He’d fired off question after question while Tessa hadn’t even figured out what to ask.

As Vera walked away, Tessa knelt beside the boxes on the floor. “Do you want me to keep going through these?”

“Yeah, but we need to be quick about it.”

“Why?”

“Because every minute we spend here puts her in more danger.”

“How? Dave and the others would’ve checked her out already.”

“But we’re wanted, and we’re searching for clues to convict all of them.” Items thumped. “Enough innocent people have been hurt through our investigation. I’d just prefer we don’t make her another statistic.”

For all their arguing over Whit, she did agree with him there. “Got it.” She dove into the cartons by her knees and efficiently combed through the contents, but when they were alone again, she’d pick up where they left off.

Whit had to be one of the good guys. If they found out he had anything at all to do with Brian’s death and her brother’s disappearance, she’d never be able to trust anyone again.

Chapter Nine

Brenna studied the man lying on the hospital bed with tubes sticking out of him. He was formidable even injured. What would he be like totally healthy?

Damn, she’d relocated to the state to, to start fresh and make a comfortable, drama-free life for herself, and what happened within two months of her moving van dumping all her crap into the newly leased house? Drama with a capital D.

She should’ve called the cops as soon as Jason fell asleep the first time. Or run out of the house when he grunted through the pain of his wound. However, remembering what it was like to feel utterly alone, she hadn’t been able to do either of those things. In desperate need, he’d picked her at random. She’d chosen to be his guardian and, in the process, made herself a target. Again.

She watched his chest rise and fall. In the several hours since she’d brought him to the emergency room, he hadn’t opened his eyes. What the hell was she supposed to do? She would’ve left, but he was so…vulnerable. What if he told the truth? That possibility kept her wanting to make sure he got the best care and a fair chance. The weight of her decision pounded against her skull. She rubbed her temples. “Hope to hell I’m doing something right,” she mumbled.

“Ms. Dalton.”

She jumped. By the doorway stood a lean uniformed cop in his late forties, an attractive man to some women, maybe. “Yes?”

“I have some questions for you about Officer Gage.” He wandered closer to her.

“Okay.” She nodded and hugged herself. “But he didn’t do anything to me. I mean....”

Yeah, was she really going to lie to the police? Jason, even when fever drew wracked his damaged body, had insisted she claim he’d kidnapped her. Play the victim.

“Would you mind coming out in the hallway, please? It’ll just take a few minutes.”

She stood and followed the man. They remained by the viewing window where he could keep watch on Jason. Although, where would he be going? He’d been unconscious since long before she brought him in, and as soon as the police arrived, they’d cuffed him to the bed.

“I’m Sergeant Whittaker. Jason’s boss.”

Right away she tensed.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to arrest you or give you a hard time. I’m on Jason’s side. He and his sister mean a lot to me. Thank you for helping him.” His features, but a moment later they hardened again.

“You’re welcome. Despite what he did, kidnapping me, I mean, I didn’t want him to die.”

“I understand you spoke with my officers, but can you tell me what went on?”

Brenna tapped her foot. What truth was she supposed to share?

”You’re scared. I get it. But if anyone is going to fight for Jason, it’s going to be me. I want what’s best for him.”

“Me, too.”

“Did he tell you what was going on, or maybe why he kidnapped you?”

“He didn’t.”

“Nothing at all?”

Son-of-a-bitch.
Of all people who drove in and out of that gas station, why did he have to jump into her car?

“Miss Dalton, I find it hard to believe you and he didn’t discuss what led to his injuries. You were with him for several hours, and what he did never came up?”

What he did? The man claimed to be on Jason’s side, but...what if he wasn’t? “He was delusional most of the time and sleeping the rest.”

“All right. You want to play it that way, then here’s what I have. You called 911 and hung up before you said anything. When the patrolmen came to your house, you said nothing was wrong and the neighbor’s dog scared you. You allowed the officers to check the house, but you asked them not to disturb your boyfriend who was asleep. Technically, you could be prosecuted for aiding and abetting a wanted criminal.”

She couldn’t win. Not even in Hanover for six months and already on the cops’ craplist.

He leaned closer. “Jason’s not guilty.” His coffee breath drifted through her nostrils.

Jason was in bad shape and she, Brenna Dalton, couldn’t fight the Hanover Police Department for him. She couldn’t reach his sister and her guardian. She had to trust someone. Making a quick decision, she relayed some of what she’d been through since Jason snuck into her vehicle.

“Are you sure he didn’t tell you anything?” the sergeant asked.

“No. He said I was safer not knowing. I mean, he told me he was accused of something he didn’t do and he’d sent someone to protect his sister, but nothing else.” And she hadn’t asked for more.

The sergeant stood still, staring over her head. His jaw tightened.

She glanced through the window again. Still, Jason didn’t move. He’d been injured doing the right thing. He gave her hope that not all badge-wearing guys were bullies. “Will you be able to help him?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.” He set his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “But don’t you worry. I’m going to do everything I can to make things right. Thank you for speaking with me.”

Ms. Dalton walked back into the hospital room while Whittaker whipped out his cell phone.

The young woman slid into the same chair at Jason’s bedside. Whit was happy Jason had someone at his side, someone who’d fought to keep him alive. He just wished it was Tessa instead.

Once the loudspeaker finished spitting out a code for someone, he dialed Walgren’s number. On the third ring, Dave picked up.

Whit said, “Jason’s unconscious and feverish. Doc’s not sure he’s going to make it.”

“What about the chick who brought him in?”

“She says he kidnapped her to keep him alive.”

“Did he tell her anything about why he’s wanted?”

“No.” He glanced at the woman talking to the battered body of his one-time mentee. “But she’s hanging out at the hospital.”

Dave snickered. “A bit of Stockholm syndrome or something else?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll keep you posted. How’s the search for Tessa and Rylan going?”

“Slow, but we’ll keep at it.”

“Keep me updated.” He ended the call and glanced into Jason’s room. What a major screw-up. The man had been on the fast-track to becoming one of the best cops in all of Rhode Island. He had sharp instincts. Whit had seen his promise early on. If Jason survived the night, he’d have to have surgery on his shoulder to get Dave’s bullet out of his bone. If he survived the surgery, he’d have a long road ahead of him in rehab and in court. The evidence was piling up against him.

“If you’d just listened when you came to me, none of this would’ve happened.” He’d always treated Jason and Tessa like family, but his protégé’s actions over the last few days had put him in a very tight spot. Forced to choose, Whit would have to protect his career, not the Gage siblings.

****

’“You were good with the widow.” Matt tossed the car keys on the table in their motel room and closed the window blinds.

“Thanks.” A smile spread across her lips as she stripped off her coat and draped it over the chair. “And thank you for trusting me enough to let me handle her the way I saw fit.”

“Well, you were pretty adamant about taking the lead. How could I say no?” He dropped his jacket over hers.

“Easily. You’re the one with more experience.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but you’re a woman.”

“Thank you for noticing.”

Hunger sizzled through his expression. “How could I not?” His gaze traveled the length of her as if mentally undressing her.

She moved closer to him, drawn to him by a need to be held, to fan her fingers over his chest and to take solace in the strong beat of his heart. But she kept her hands to herself.

“What I meant was you understand a woman’s grief better than I do.”

“I can’t imagine loving someone so much and then losing them too soon. And it makes me angry at what these guys have done, at how many lives have been affected by their greed.”

“I love how much you care about other people. It makes you such a special lady.”

A bit of tension seeped out of her with each word he spoke.

He hesitated for a moment, but then he framed her face with one palm. At the same time, he bent down and covered her mouth in a sweet kiss. He tasted of coffee and contentment, and she had no desire to break free.

“It doesn’t make me special. It makes me human.” How horrible his childhood must have been for him to think caring made her special. Her soul fractured for the little boy he used to be and a bit more understanding dawned about the man before her. Boldly, she reached up and curled her arms over his shoulders. She molded her body against him, and he sighed.

Or maybe she did?

Good grief, one night of sex with him and almost seventy-two hours in his company and she was addicted. At some point that day, she’d decided she’d take him any way she could while they were together. She’d brace herself for when he left her on her own again. Casual flings had never been her thing, but her body craved his, begged for his tenderness. He was exactly what she needed at exactly that time.

She pressed her lips to one corner of his mouth, the other corner, and then his lips.

He didn’t join in, but he didn’t pull away either.

“Tess, we really should stop.”

She nipped and kissed a trail under his jaw and along his neck. “Why?”

“I care about you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

She tilted her head to one side. “By sleeping with me again?”

“By spending another night with you and then walking away when you and your brother are safe. Even if we regain our freedom, I’m not ready for anything long term. I can’t do it. Not even for you.”

“I’m not asking for forever. Just one more night. No strings.” She teased his lips with her tongue. “Please. My world’s crumbling around me. Make me forget.”

He surrendered then, kissing her with reckless intensity and weakening her knees.

She’d already fallen in love with him.

With each touch, he branded her and made her his.

“I need you.” Sliding her hands under his shirt, she fingered his chest. He pulled his mouth from hers long enough to yank the shirt over his head. All that skin, all those muscles. The ache between her thighs increased.

“Just so you know,” he began in between smooches, “I’m going to do everything I can to make you lose control tonight.”

“Sounds good to me.” To him, she could surrender. She wanted to. She trusted him enough, for one night, to give him everything.

While she trailed her lips along his pecs, she made fast work on the button on his jeans.

“Oh no.” He gripped her wrists before she could grab the zipper. “You need to be completely naked first.”

“Why? What does it matter who—”

He pressed the pad of his thumb against her lips. “Shh. Let me have my way with you.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.” He grabbed her sweater at her waist and tugged it over her head. “You are beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah, but tonight is about you.” He undid the clip between her breasts and eased the bra off her shoulders. The yearning to strip him, to taste him, rose within her until she shivered. He leaned down and reclaimed her mouth. Firm and commanding, he slid his tongue inside. It danced and teased hers until her nipples hardened.

Damn, she needed to feel his tough body surrounding hers yet again. But he remained just out of touch. And then, his fingers slid around the edges of her panties and peeled them away. Finally, finally she could touch him. She pressed her palms against his chest and stepped out of the last of her clothing. How much more perfect could the night be?

In one swift movement, he hooked his hands under her arms and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, reveling in the bulge that awaited her attention. Matt’s mouth went to work on her breast. With one swipe of his tongue across her nipple, he forced a shudder through her. As he kissed, nipped, and tasted her, tension built throughout her body. She needed him inside her. She had to settle for rocking into him and hoping she was driving him at least a little crazy.

Relief, fulfillment, control, completion overwhelmed her. Tessa gasped. “Oh, Matt, please.”

“Please what?” He started the torturous process all over again on her other breast. The room spun.

She went to work on his zipper. Desperation guided her task. She wanted to be wrapped in his arms while he joined their bodies and took her on another erotic journey.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore.”

Matt pushed her hands away, leaned her back against the wall, and flicked his thumb over her bud. He slid his tongue back into her mouth but retreated before she could rub her own along his. With precision, he wrapped his lips around her nipple again, laved it. All the while one finger teased her clit and two others slid in and out of her. Faster and faster he moved, dabbed the special spot inside her, and her orgasm took over. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do a damn thing except let him do whatever he wanted to her. Losing control frightened her a little, but excited her more.