Finders Keepers Losers Die (27 page)

I snatched my hand away and wiped my palm on
the towel hanging beside the sink.

"Now you see?" he sneered. "They all wanna
get to know the beast."

"Beast?" I sniggered. "I've had bigger bugs
crawl up my leg."

He huffed as if my comment meant nothing but
I got the feeling by the way his smile vanished that the beast had
gone into hibernation. He eyed me up and down and blurted out "huh"
along with a laugh when his gaze reached my size B chest. Like I
gave a fuck what he thought. I'd never had any complaints about
them.

"And I've had juicier fucks." He grabbed my
arm and jerked me to him. "But you'll have to do." I yelped, as
much from the sharp pain shooting down my arm as from his
threat.

Despite what he'd said, I didn't think I was
in any danger. It was broad daylight and anyone could walk in at
any moment. He wouldn't try anything. He wouldn't—

He did.

He shoved me back against the wall. My head
slammed on the tiles. My vision blurred. Stunned, disoriented and
shaking uncontrollably, I was at his mercy.

And I already knew he had none of that
commodity.

CHAPTER 15

Grimes descended on me like a vicious
animal, ripping my shirt and crushing my body against the tiles. My
shoulder blades and butt ground into the wall so hard I expected to
leave an impression. I winced and pushed back, but I might as well
have been a grain of sand fighting against the tide.

Then he tried to kiss me. Sickened, I jerked
my head from side to side to avoid his stinking breath and slippery
lips. I balled my fists and pounded him. I kicked out but he didn't
stop.

"Get off me!" I screamed. "Get off, get
off!" I clawed at his throat with my nails, tried to knee him in
the groin, stamp his foot, anything to stop the horrible slathering
of his tongue on my neck and avoid the hard stub of his dick
against my hip.

But he kept going.

Shaking, blinded by tears, I could do
nothing. Useless. Weak. Pathetic. Pain rippled down my spine as he
forced me harder into the tiles and pressed himself against my
chest so I could barely breathe. Panic rose and consumed me,
hampering my lungs further.

Get him off me
, I pleaded
silently.

But beneath the fear was a more profound and
powerful emotion—frustration. I was as frustrated as I was afraid.
To say I hated being in that situation, hated being at someone
else's mercy and powerless, was an understatement. It was that
frustration that made me fight on harder to regain some
control.

Somewhere, deep inside, I found a strength
and courage that had never been tapped. And I let it flow.

As his hand reached up under my bra and
grasped my breast, I saw an opening and went for it. I bit down on
his exposed throat, sinking my teeth into the soft flesh. I tasted
blood.

"Fuck!" he roared. The hand let go and flew
to his neck. "You bit me, you bitch! What are you, a fucking
vampire?"

I saw the hand coming and I tried to dodge
it but my reactions were sluggish. The back-handed slap hit me
square on the cheek. I stumbled but he propped me up roughly
against the wall with his elbow. The room spun and my cheek stung
like it was on fire but thankfully I didn't cry.

I was way too angry to cry.

No one,
no one
, had ever hit Cat
Sinclair. Not even my parents put me over their knee as a child.
Deep in the pit of my stomach, something uncoiled, wound its way up
and burst free in the form of my fist. My punch connected with his
jaw. I don't think I hurt him but the surprise was enough to knock
him off balance.

When he steadied himself, his glare left
nothing open to interpretation.

You're in for it now, Cat.

But I wasn't. The confrontation could have
ended in any number of gory ways if divine intervention hadn't
interrupted in the form of Scarface. The rough, gruff cop had
probably never been considered divine before, but to me, he was
heavenly.

He stood in the doorway to the bathroom, a
deep frown on his forehead. "What's going on here?"

I slipped past Grimes and ran to Scarface.
Then I remembered that I was supposed to be a brave twenty-first
century woman so I straightened and refrained from hiding behind
him. Besides, as far as Grimes knew, Scarface was
his
buddy,
not an undercover cop. I wasn't supposed to even know him.

But if they were meant to be buddies,
Scarface wasn't showing any leniency towards Grimes at that moment.
He took one look at me—I'm sure a red blotch in the shape of a hand
print decorated my cheek—and one look at Grimes and must have
figured it out. His face contorted into something fierce and
primal. He reached out and grabbed Grimes by the throat.

"I said," he hissed, "what's going on
here?"

"Nothing," Grimes protested in a gargled
voice. He tried to pry Scarface's hands away but couldn't. Slowly,
he sank to his knees and looked up at his tormentor through bulging
eyes that pleaded for mercy. "You're choking me," he squeaked.

"Good."

For a moment, I thought Scarface might kill
him right in front of me. I would have told him to stop but Grimes'
face turned a pretty shade of purple. Besides, I knew Scarface
wouldn't kill him.

Okay, I wasn't
sure
, but I was
almost, kind of, nearly certain.

Suddenly Scarface let go and Grimes
collapsed onto the floor like a doll, clutching his throat and
sucking in air.

"What was that for?" he croaked when his
face had softened to a milder shade of crimson.

"What's with you, you fucker?" Scarface
turned away from Grimes and shut his eyes as he let out a measured
breath. After a moment, apparently composed again, he turned back
to Grimes, still on the floor. "Anyone could have walked in here. A
cop, for Christ's sake."

Grimes stood carefully and stretched his
neck from side to side. He kept Scarface in his line of sight as he
turned on the tap and splashed his face.

"I would have let you have a piece of her
after." He sounded like a nerdy schoolboy trying to get in with the
cool kids.

Scarface looked to me, his face blank.
"She's not my type."

"Mine either but hey, I like to try
something different once in a while."

I could sense Scarface tense even though his
body appeared to remain as relaxed as ever.
Go
, he mouthed
to me.

No problem. I left in a hurry. I could hear
Grimes asking Scarface, "So what can I do for you?" as if he were a
customer and nothing had happened.

I ran to my car and jumped in, fumbling to
start the engine. It wasn't until I got back to Gina's that I burst
into tears. Huge, body-shuddering sobs.

I showered, scrubbing until my skin burned.
It took a long time and an entire bar of soap and all the hot
water, but finally the tears stopped and I felt normal again.

Almost normal. Still shaking, I made myself
a cup of coffee and sat down with all the chocolate I could find.
When Gina arrived home, my cup was empty and I'd eaten three
chocolate bars and a jumbo packet of M&M's.

She threw her bag on the couch and spotted
the wrappers on the coffee table. "Bad day?"

"You could say that."

She put an arm around my shoulders. "Want to
talk about it?"

I hesitated then shook my head. I didn't
want a lecture, or her pity. I just wanted to forget the whole
awful experience. Besides, nothing had actually happened.
He
gave you a fright, that's all
. Next time, I'd be more careful,
more alert.

No, there'd be no next time. I'd had enough
of Barry Grimes.

My phone rang and I checked the display
before answering. Scarface. "You okay?" he asked, concern edging
his voice.

"I'm fine. Thanks."
Thanks for calling to
see if I was okay. Thanks for saving my ass
.

"Did you report him?"

"No." It was a thought I'd already grappled
with. "He's a suspect. I want him out of jail for now so you can
get him on a bigger charge."

A long pause. "So you want to tell me why
you were there?"

"Not particularly."

"Wrong answer, Cat."

I sighed, suddenly weary of all the
testosterone in my life. As if Will wasn't enough, I had to contend
with Scarface too. Suddenly I felt like I couldn't breathe, as if I
were in a small room and the walls closing in.

In theory, I
knew
they were only
thinking of my safety, but in practice I'd had it up to here with
the lectures and the paternal attitudes. I guess that made me
something of a selfish bitch. Is there a twelve-step program for
that?

"Unless you've got something constructive to
tell me about this case, I don't want to hear it," I said. "Okay? I
don't want to hear your lectures, I don't want to hear that I
should stay away from Grimes, and I don't want to hear that I'm
going about this all wrong. This is
my
case,
my
life
and I'm going to do things
my
way, even if you think they're
the wrong way. Got it?"

"Cat—"

"And another thing." I stabbed my finger
into the air to get my point across, even though he couldn't see.
"I should be able to go about my business of interrogating people
without bodily injury. It's my goddamn right. Why don't you save
your lectures for Grimes because he's the one who needs them, not
me."

Silence from the other end, then he said, "I
get the picture," and hung up.

It felt like a victory. I'd gotten through
to one man in my life. Now all I had to do was get through Will's
skull, which I had a suspicion was thicker than Scarface's.

I returned the phone to my bag and turned
round. Gina looked at me through narrowed eyes, her mouth a grim
line. "A lecture from me is out of the question too, I
suppose."

I gave her a smile. "At least your lectures
aren't full of chest-beating."

"And they come with chocolate."

"I've eaten all the chocolate," I said,
looking wistfully at the empty wrappers.

She stood and headed for her bedroom. "I
have a secret stash. For emergencies."

"This definitely qualifies as an emergency.
I've had the day from Hell, I'm arguing with both the men in my
life and I don't know what to do next."

She emerged carrying two Dove bars and
handed one to me. "Why don't you ask Will what he'd do? Or Carl if
you don't want to speak to Will?"

"It's not that I don't want to speak to
him," I said, unwrapping the bar. "It's the attitude he gets when I
do speak to him. Like he's…superior."

"Cat, he's not like that. He cares about
you. He's worried you'll land in trouble." She looked at me through
lowered lashes. "So am I. Someone
is
trying to kill you, you
know."

Death I could cope with. Will telling me
what to do I wasn't so sure about. "And I appreciate your concern,
but short of locking me inside the apartment, what can be
done?"

"You'll be fine at the office and here with
me. We won't open the door to anyone. It's just when you're alone…
Maybe we can go to work together."

"And put you in danger?" I shook my head.
"No way."

"Two are better than one."

"Not when that one couldn't run to save
herself in spiky heels and is afraid of damaging her manicure."

She sniffed. "My heels are lethal weapons,
and these nails," she waggled them at me, "can cause a lot of
damage to eyeballs. Believe me, I know. I poked myself this morning
when applying mascara."

I laughed till I choked on the chocolate.
"Seriously, Gina, I don't want to live like that. And besides, what
about when I'm out investigating?"

She chewed thoughtfully and I knew I
wouldn't like what she was about to say. So I got in first. "No.
Nuh-uh. I'm not giving up the case."

She sighed. "So that puts us back where we
started. You being extra careful and Will nagging you."

That about summed it up. We dropped the
conversation and watched TV. Or I watched TV while Gina cooked. She
was a brilliant cook and I didn't want to cramp her style.

About nine, Will called. "Hey," he said
softly. "How's things?"

I didn't think he'd be asking if he'd heard
about my little altercation with Grimes. "Pretty quiet."

"Gina there?"

"Yes."

"Want to come over here then?" His voice
sounded thick and sexy. No prizes for guessing what was on his
agenda for the evening.

"Not tonight. I'm tired." It wasn't a
lie.

"Oh. Okay." He cleared his throat. "Um, so
you coming into the office tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"I, ah, don't know. I'll see you then."

I frowned at the receiver when he hung up.
"That was a weird conversation," I said to Gina.

"Why? Did he yell at you?"

"No. That's why it was weird. He
was…nice."

"Cat, he
is
nice. You're a lucky
woman to have a man like Will want you so bad."

"I know I'm lucky," I said, meaning it. "And
I like him, I really do. It's just that sometimes there's something
about him that I can't quite put my finger on."

"He's like your father."

"My dad? Nuh-uh, no way." But even as I said
it, I knew she had a point. Will was a control freak, just like
Dad. And then there was the age difference.

Oh, Christ, Freud would have a field day
analyzing my relationship with Will.

"He’s a good man too," Gina said. "He
wouldn’t let you down."

She sounded flat, as if life had weighed her
down and squashed her into the ground. She'd never sounded flat
before.

I put my arm around her and gave her a hug.
"You'll find someone," I said. "And when you do, he'll be perfect.
Handsome, tall, kind, honest, loyal, with several functioning brain
cells." It was a joke we shared about her exes. When comparing them
one night, we concluded that the ones who hadn't had the sense
knocked out of them from contact sports, weren't born with much
sense in the first place. "I mean, you can't be this gorgeous for
nothing."