Fatal Deception (40 page)

He glanced at Sam. “I have a right to privacy.”

“Of course you do. We’ll wait right outside. Make it snappy.”

Sam and Beckett joined Hill and Malone in the observation room where they watched the fury and indignation roll off Porter in waves as he punched out the number from memory. The phone rang and rang until voice mail picked up. “This is Colton Patterson. I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks, and have a great day.”

“Colton,” Porter said with a hysterical edge to his voice, “where the hell is the lawyer? I’ve been here for hours! Send him over here, and tell him to bring me a change of clothes. Cam can get them. Hurry up, will you?” He punched the off button.

Beckett unplugged the phone and removed it from the room.

“Unfortunately, we need this room for other matters, so we’ll be moving you to a cell in the city jail shortly.”

“I have to stay here? Overnight?”

“Until your lawyer arrives, everything is on hold.” She checked her watch. “Since it’s now eight p.m. with no sign of the lawyer, I’m guessing this’ll be going into tomorrow.”

“When will I get to leave?”

“Depends on when the lawyer shows up and whether the judge approves bail, but I’ll warn you that’s highly unlikely in light of the charges.” Sam watched as it settled on him that he might be in jail for quite some time. “Officer Beckett will escort you to your cell.”

“You won’t get away with this,” Gillespie spat at her as she turned to leave.

“Neither will you,” Sam said, leaving him with her most charming smile, even though the pain nearly made her faint. The agony was well worth the blatant fear that replaced the arrogance on his smug face.

“God, that was fun,” she said to Malone and Hill as they stepped out of the observation room.

“Nothing quite like taking a pompous ass down a few pegs,” Hill said.

“Exactly,” Sam said. To Beckett, she said, “Get Gillespie and Smith settled in the cell that Cruz designated for surveillance earlier and let me know when they’re there.”

“Yes, ma’am, Lieutenant.”

Since she had a few minutes, she wandered back to her office, checking the voice mail on her cell phone as she went. One of them was from Cruz. “Sam, I have the info you wanted me to get on Gibson. Give me a call when you get this message.” Sam exited out of voice mail and returned the call. “Hey,” she said when he answered. “What’ve you got?”

“Hi.” He sounded sleepy and dopey, the way he often did since he’d been living with Elin. Sam rolled her eyes to high heaven. “I did a little digging into the Gibson situation. It was tough to find out anything because of the privacy laws, but I went over to see if one of the nurses could be charmed.”

“And of course she swooned at the sight of you.”

“Naturally.”

Sam laughed. “And?”

“And he’s going to be fine. He didn’t take enough of whatever he took to kill himself. She said it seemed more like an attention-getting scheme. So I’d say you did the right thing to stay away. You would’ve been giving him exactly what he wanted if you’d gone over there.”

As she listened, she went into her office where Nick had his feet on the desk, his hands crossed on his belly and his eyes closed. She wondered if he was asleep, but the second she crossed the threshold, he opened his eyes. Her gaze met his in a flashpoint of awareness that arced between them like an electrical charge. They’d always had a crazy attraction to each other, from the first night they met, but this was something all new and even crazier than what she was used to.

Apparently, he felt the charge too, because he sat up a little straighter in the chair and dropped his feet to the floor. “Done?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Thanks for the info, Freddie. I really appreciate you doing that.”

“No problem. How’s Angela?”

“She’s great. She’s got a gorgeous new daughter named Ella.”

“That’s awesome. How are you?”

“I’m good,” she said, touched by his concern. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Putting the phone in her pocket, she went around the desk and rested against it, facing her husband. “Cruz found out that Gibson survived the fake suicide attempt. The nurse said it seemed like an attention-getting scheme. In other words, typical Peter.”

“Do you feel better now that you know?”

She nodded. “I hope you understand—I only asked Freddie to look into it because I wanted to know if he was dead or alive. That’s it.”

“Sam, honey, I know you don’t have feelings for him. How could you after all the shit he’s pulled on you—on both of us? He took six years away from us, not to mention everything he took from you.”

“It threw me when he listed me as his next of kin and wrote me a letter and all that.”

“Of course it did. You wouldn’t be human—you wouldn’t be you—if it didn’t. But now you know it was more of the same, so don’t give it another thought.”

She reached for his hand and linked their fingers. “I won’t.”

“I hate how you have so many things in your life that cause you angst. How you manage to stay so balanced and sane is amazing to me.”

“Am I balanced and sane?”

“Extremely.”

A knock on the door had her dropping his hand and turning to face the doorway.

“They’re in the cell, Lieutenant.”

“Thanks, Beckett. Sorry you had to spend your entire tour babysitting stinky pants.”

“It was pretty gross,” he said, grimacing. The young man was in his first year on the job. “I had no idea pee could smell that bad.”

“Welcome to police work, where the offensive aromas never end.”

“Good to know,” Beckett said with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

To Nick, she said, “Five more minutes, Senator, and then I’m all yours.”

“Get to it. I’m running out of patience. It’s time for you to take your punishment for making me wait all day for you and your idea of funny text messages, not to mention having to stand by silently while you receive compliments from your not-so-secret admirer.”

Sam’s mouth fell open and then snapped shut, making her gasp from the pain. Astounded by the game they were suddenly playing, she bit back the snotty retort that was sitting on the tip of her tongue, aware of him watching her as she walked away. The rational, feminist side of her said she really shouldn’t let him get away with a statement like that, but the other side of her, the side that was ridiculously turned on by their game, told the rational side to shut the hell up. She couldn’t deny she was painfully curious to see where this night might lead.

Downstairs, in the city jail, she greeted the sergeant on duty.

“Your boys are in cell three, Lieutenant,” he said as she went by.

“Thanks, Sarge.”

As she approached the cell, she heard Jerry and Porter whispering to each other but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The cell contained two narrow cots, a small sink and a metal toilet between the beds. She could smell Porter from the hallway and choked back a gag.

“Gentlemen,” Sam said, clapping her hands loudly as she approached, making them jolt. She loved that. “I’d like to remind you that you have the right to remain silent.” She pointed to the cameras mounted in the corners of the cell. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, an attorney will be provided for you. Do you understand your rights in this matter?”

Glowering at her, they both nodded.

“I’m going to need you to say, ‘Yes, I understand my rights.’” She pointed again to the cameras.

“I understand my rights,” they said in flat-sounding voices.

“Can you find him some new clothes?” Jerry jerked his thumb toward a red-faced Porter. “He fucking reeks.”

“I believe he was offered a jumpsuit, which we’re happy to provide, but he refused it.”

“Take it, you dickwad,” Smith said. “I don’t want to smell your piss all night.”

“Boys, boys,” Sam said condescendingly, “let’s try to get along.”

“I’ll take the jumpsuit,” Porter said through gritted teeth.

“I’ll have one brought to you.”

“I have to change here?”

“Where else?” Sam said. “This isn’t exactly the country club.” She called for the guard and asked him to bring Porter a change of clothing. “I’ll be back in the morning,” she said to her prisoners. “Hopefully, your lawyer or lawyers will be here by then so we can have a chat and get you arraigned. I can’t imagine what’s keeping them.” She shrugged as if it was no consequence to her, which it wasn’t.

They had a long, hard night ahead of them. With any luck, before the sun rose on a new day, they’d put two and two together and realize they’d been cut loose by the Patterson organization.

“Sleep tight,” she said as she walked away, smiling when Jerry muttered, “Fuck you” under his breath. “Fuck you too, you murdering son of a bitch,” she whispered to herself as she took the stairs to the pit. “Let’s go,” she said to Nick, who jumped up at the sound of her voice.

Knowing he was so anxious to get home had a flutter of nerves working its way down her spine as she locked her office door and walked out with him into the sultry night.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sam knew she was in serious trouble when he tossed his suit jacket on the sofa in a move so wildly out of character for her neat-freak husband that she was shocked speechless. Tossing clothes on the sofa was her move, not his.

He continued to astound her when he unbuttoned her blouse, pushed it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my freakazoid husband?”

“Be quiet, and do what you’re told.”

Oh my... Since he was stepping so far out of character for the night, Sam decided to go with him, anxious to see where they might end up together. She had no intention of making a habit out of allowing him to boss her around. But this new and unexplored side of her sexy husband had her extremely intrigued. She wouldn’t have guessed he had it in him, which, she could now see, was a vast underestimation on her part.

Moving them toward the stairs, he continued to remove clothes, kicking off his wingtips with barely concealed abandon that made her hot and wet and needy. As he snapped her bra free with a move right out of the high school boy handbook, her nipples tightened.

Her pants and underwear followed and somehow her bra ended up hanging from the newel post.

“Up.” He pointed to the stairs. “Now.”

Sam was almost afraid to turn her back on him. Her bottom tingled at the possibility that he might get down to business on the way up. Tentatively, she took the first stair and then the second. Waiting to see what he would do was almost as arousing as knowing what was coming when they got upstairs.

Her legs felt heavy and clumsy as she made her way up, knowing he was right behind her but not touching her with anything more than his gaze. She had no doubt he was fully enjoying the sight of her ass as she moved up the stairs. Her mouth was suddenly dry and her palms damp as her clit throbbed and moisture pooled between her legs. She’d never been more turned on in her life, and he hadn’t even touched her. Yet.

When they reached the second floor, he said, “Keep going.”

He wanted to go to their special place in the loft, which he’d created to remind them of their honeymoon paradise in Bali. That he wanted to do this there only ramped up her overwhelming anticipation as she took the stairs to the loft. It felt so decadent to be walking through the house naked, knowing he was also naked right behind her.

The loft retained the fragrance of the beach from the scented candles he’d bought. She was instantly transported to the blissful days and nights of their honeymoon.

He moved around her to adjust the double lounge chair—exactly like the one they’d so enjoyed in Bali—so it was flat. “Lie down,” he said. “On your belly.”

Acutely aware of him watching her every move, Sam stretched out facedown, resting the uninjured side of her face on the pillow.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“I guess...” She was nervous and embarrassed and aroused and all sorts of other things she couldn’t seem to put words to as she heard him rustling around, lighting candles and turning on their favorite island music.

“Does your face hurt?”

“No.”

“Will you tell me if it starts to hurt?”

She had a feeling her face was going to be the least of her concerns in a few minutes. “Uh-huh.”

The lounge dipped under his weight when he joined her. She started to raise her head to see what he was doing, but he stopped her. “Don’t move. Close your eyes and trust me.”

Since there was no one she trusted more, she did as he requested even as her entire body quivered with anticipation and excitement.

His hands glided over her back, warm and smooth as a new fragrance filled her senses. Cedar and spice and flowers. She couldn’t place it. Massage oil, she realized as he kneaded the tension from her neck and shoulders before working his way down her back. Realizing he’d obviously put a lot of thought into how this night would unfold only ramped up her desire to unprecedented levels.

After a long period of silence in which Sam desperately wanted to ask him what he was thinking and planning, he said, “I’m annoyed with you.”

His playful tone told her he was anything but annoyed. “What did I do this time?”

“I have a long list of grievances, and I plan to punish you for every one of them.”

“Is that so?” Sam said, playing along. She wanted to purr from the magic he was making with his skillful hands. Where had he been hiding this skill all these months?

“Uh-huh. Let’s start with your friend Avery Hill, who looks at you like he wants to take you home and tie you to his bed and keep you captive for days on end.” The slap to her ass was quick and sharp and shocking and so intensely arousing.

Sam gasped and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Heat radiated from the spot where his hand had made contact, and a flood of new moisture had her pressing her legs together, as if that might actually contain it.

“I don’t care for the way he looks at you. Not one bit.” The next slap landed on the other cheek, followed right after by a slap to the first spot, which now burned and tingled. He rubbed massage oil into both cheeks, cooling the sting but feeding the fire.