Half Past Dead (24 page)

“Good boy. You're an attack dog now.” She turned to Justin. “Who was that man?”

“Lucas Albright. When I was on the force in New Orleans, I killed his brother during a drug bust.” The steely edge to his voice told her there was a lot more to the story. “Lucas swore he'd kill me as soon as he got out of prison.”

“You didn't know he'd been released?”

“Nope. That's the system for you.”

She shuddered, thinking how close they'd both come to being killed. “You came back at just the right moment. I—”

“We heard you yelling down the road. That's why we hightailed it back here.” He stopped her and cradled her breasts in his hands. “That's some set of lungs you've got.”

She managed a wry smile. “I'm exhausted. I—”

“Don't worry. I'm not going to jump your bones, after all you've been through. I'll stay with you while you sleep.”

Kat didn't say anything, but she knew he meant he would guard her. This convict had been after Justin. Whoever had poisoned Kat was still out there. Waiting.

K
AT AWOKE
in the darkness. The luminous dial on the alarm told her it was a little after three in the morning. Redd was sleeping next to the bed, and nearby in the armchair he'd brought in from the living room was Justin.

With heart-pounding clarity, terrifying memories filled her brain. Gasping for breath, she recalled being chased. The pressure on her chest felt so great that the brute seemed to be on top of her again. She levered herself up with her elbows and stared at the featureless shadow across the room to make sure it really was Justin.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“I'm fine.” She knew her voice sounded strained.

He stood up, walked over to the bed, and sat on the edge. He put his arm around her waist. She shivered, though the room was undoubtedly warm. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and placed one hand on his chest. His heartbeat against her palm was steady, reassuring. Calming.

He held her close, his grip tightening as if he sensed her anxiety. “Everything is going to be all right. I spoke with my deputy. They've got Lucas Albright in jail in Jackson. He can't hurt you.”

“Did the shot take off his…penis or anything?”

Justin chuckled softly. “No. The bullet grazed one of his balls but lodged in his thigh. He has a pretty bad dog bite on his calf. Don't worry about him. He'll be back in the pen soon.”

“That's good. I didn't want him to kill you.”

Justin didn't mention the poison, and neither did she. But Kat was positive that the knowledge someone was out there, determined to kill her, weighed on both their minds.

“Don't worry about it.” He eased her down onto the pillow. “Go back to sleep.”

She refused to release him. It might be weak or silly but there was a certain measure of comfort just being in his arms. She heard herself saying, “Make love to me.”

“I don't think now's a good time. You've been through a lot tonight.”

“That's why this is the best time. Anything can happen.” She slipped her hand up under his T-shirt and caressed the springy mat of hair on his solid chest. Her heart revved, and warm blood purred through her veins. “If you hadn't gotten that call…”

“I know. We were well on our way.” He stood up and pulled off his shirt. His chest was tanned and broad with rippling muscles. The wedge of hair on his chest narrowed to his waist where his cargo shorts hung low on his hips. A bod to die for. He unzipped his shorts, and in the dim light, she saw he wasn't wearing underwear. Her gaze traveled along his lean, strong body and saw his penis was already erect.

She sat up and took off the T-shirt while he lifted the sheet and moved in beside her. Electricity arced between them as she scooted into his arms, parting her lips for his kiss. His tongue brushed hers, and she drew it into her mouth with astonishing eagerness.

She strained forward, eager to have her throbbing nipples against his chest. Crisp hair greeted her breasts; she instinctively moved to heighten the erotic sensation. Arching her back, she moaned her delight in having the hard contours of his bare body against hers. A craving like nothing she'd ever experienced overcame her—a total meltdown. She wanted him inside her—now.

“Hurry, hurry,” she muttered against his lips.

He broke off the kiss, raised up on one sturdy elbow, and leaned over her. “I'm not rushing this.”

He allowed the words to sink in before his mouth sought hers again, and this time he kissed her fiercely, his need matching her own. Yet something was different about the kiss now. It seemed to bond them in a way she'd never anticipated. This just wasn't about sex. Something…more was happening.

The ache in her loins intensified. All she'd gone through—even prison—had brought her to this moment, this man. She wouldn't change any of it. Without going through hell, she would never have been here. Nothing mattered except being with Justin.

Justin pulled her tighter to him and explored the curve of her back and sexy bottom. Oh, my, she was soft. She was vulnerable, too, and he knew it. This wasn't going to be a one-night fling. They belonged together, but he had to keep her safe at any cost—even if it meant sending her away while he remained here until he solved this case.

He pressed her bottom against his jutting hardness and rolled her onto her back. Parting her long, slim legs with his knee, he settled himself full length between them. He lifted his head and stared down at her. Even in the shadowy darkness, he could see her green eyes were dilated yet ablaze with passion.

“Justin.” His name slipped from between her lips on a breath that wasn't quite a whisper. It was the most erotic pronunciation of his name he'd ever heard.

She moved against him again—just a little shimmy of her hips. The desire building by the second inside him nearly exploded. He forced himself to hold on, make it good for her. She might want him to hurry, but he had enough experience to know not to rush. He concentrated on drawing even, calming breaths.

He trailed moist kisses down her neck, then nuzzled one breast before turning his attention to the other. He flicked his tongue over one taut nipple, then blew across it. As the moist skin cooled, she shuddered with pleasure. He sucked on her puckered nipples and circled each tight bud with his tongue. She uttered a low moan and dug her nails into his shoulders.

She gyrated her hips sensuously against his. His penis was so hot and hard that it ached when the downy hair between her legs rasped his sensitized skin. The heat in his veins had become a fever, a gnawing hunger that only this woman could satisfy.

Her hands skimmed down his back and caressed his buttocks. Another surge of erotic pleasure stormed through him. His kiss turned savage, hot and mindless.
Be tender, be gentle,
argued some part of his brain but testosterone had taken over his body.

Kat moved her head to break the kiss. She announced, “I'm ready. Really ready.”

It was the absolute truth. Even though her experience with lovemaking was extremely limited, she realized she was totally aroused. Entranced. Earlier that evening she'd had a glimmer of what it would be like to have him inside her, but now her senses were heightened. Some distant part of her brain told her this happened when someone had a brush with death, but right now, she didn't care about the reason.

“I need you—now, Justin!”

“All right! All right!” His voice was hoarse with desire.

She gazed at his heavy-lidded eyes and clenched jaw.
Why, he's struggling to maintain control.
She should have found this enormously pleasing, but her frustration was mounting with every heartbeat.

He slipped his hand between her legs, and his thumb found the tiny, throbbing nubbin between the moist folds of flesh. He rolled the delicate bud for a moment, then rubbed the velvet smooth head of his penis against it. A low moan broke from her lips, and she scored his back with her fingernails.

He whispered against her ear. “You're a little hellcat, aren't you?”

“Sorry…I got—” The sensations were so exquisite she could hardly eke out the words “—carried away.”

He eased the tip of his penis inside her. “That makes two of us.”

She arched upward, needing him deeper. Fiery-hot and hard, the thick head of his penis probed at her but didn't nudge forward. “Come on!”

“You're a little tight,” he replied in a low, raw voice. “I don't want to hurt you.”

He gradually edged forward, stretching her until she was certain she would split in half and die on the spot, loving every second of it. Finally, he was deep inside and her body had adjusted to accommodate him.

He took her hard and fast, his thick shaft thrusting back and forth like a supercharged piston. She came quickly with a series of shattering tremors from a place inside her she'd never known existed.

“Justin!” she screamed.

He kept pounding into her for a few seconds, then she heard him groan as release came with a final deep, deep thrust. His powerful body shuddered and went slack. He fell forward, taking the brunt of his weight with his arms so he wouldn't crush her. Breathing like a racehorse, he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

She lay there, stunned by the magnitude of her orgasm. Her body was limp as if every bone had been sucked out of it, but somehow she felt complete in a way she could never have expressed in mere words.

Arms linked around her, Justin rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Unable to muster the strength to move, she lay sprawled on top of his body, sated and happy.

 

A
NTSY, UNABLE TO SLEEP
, the man stared out into the darkness. Kaitlin Wells was a cat for sure. She had nine lives. Who would have guessed the Hills had taken her to their place? No one would think of contradicting those crazy fuckers.

The best-laid plans of mice and men.

If something can go wrong, it will, he reminded himself. This scheme to take out Bitner and blame it on Kat Wells had been a little too…risky. He'd said so—more than once—but in the end he had gone along with their plan.

Now what?

They had to get rid of the bitch. She was a liability they couldn't afford to have around. It was just a matter of time before the authorities reopened the case. A competent fingerprint expert would know Kat had never been inside the bank vault.

Sheriff Parker was six feet under. He couldn't help them with another cover-up. Radner was straighter than Cochise's arrow.

Or so it appeared.

Personally, he believed
every
man had his price. Problem was no one had been able to get close enough to Radner to determine what it would take to lure him into their camp. Worse, Radner had the hots for Kat. Long as she was spreading her legs for him, he would do his damnedest to help her.

A disturbing thought resurfaced, like an itch in a spot you couldn't reach. Someone else wanted Kat dead, too. Poisoning Kat had been a diabolical move. Who would be that desperate? That ballsy? You had to respect—and fear—a person like that.

Too much was at risk. He might even end up dead. He shoved that prospect to the back of his mind. He was a big-time player and had been for years. They wouldn't
dare
kill him.

Leave nothing to chance, he reminded himself. It had long been one of his favorite mottos.

A low beep indicated a message coming through on his police scanner. It hadn't been much help. Radner never used the radio. He took calls on his cell. It was possible to monitor cell calls, but it took special equipment that he didn't have.

He unlocked his desk drawer and pulled out the scanner. It was nearly four in the morning, late for activity at the sheriff's station. A staticky squawk belched from the black box, then a man's voice came over the air waves.

“Leavin' Jackson.” The disembodied voice of the deputy then told the dispatcher his location.

That old bat, Nora, worked the day shift. At night the deputies rotated turns being the dispatcher and front desk officer. The other deputy on duty was assigned to field operations. It wasn't much of a task force, but it had been all Twin Oaks needed—until now.

Why would anyone on the force be in Jackson? The man stared at the black scanner, more than a little troubled. The sealed records of the Kaitlin Wells trial were in Jackson, but the prosecutor's office wasn't open at this hour. Even if the office had been open, they'd left nothing to chance. No one would ever find the file they'd destroyed.

“What's happening?” the dispatcher asked.

The man listened through bursts of static while the deputy explained. He'd known all about Radner's problems with Lucas Albright. It paid to have the goods on everyone.

From the sound of the conversation, Albright had attacked Kat Wells while looking for Radner. Interesting. More than interesting. He'd been right about Radner and the bitch with a talent for getting into trouble. Now he knew exactly where to find her.

The news brought him out of the funk he'd been in earlier. What he needed was a plan of action. This time she wouldn't escape alive. She'd used up her nine lives.

Didn't she know she was already half past dead?

T
ORI SAT ALONE
in a booth at the back of Bits N Grits Café and ordered one of their homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast. After what she'd been through with the Kincaids, she deserved a treat. Since the fiasco in the town square, the men had spent endless, agonizing hours rehashing events and strategizing. Tori had the sickening feeling she'd seen a glimpse into the future. And she hated every second of it.

Sure, she was willing to become the perfect daughter-in-law to further the judge's political ambitions. She'd brownnose and smile at dinner parties with celebrities, but she'd imagined a certain amount of private time. She saw herself walking the quaint streets of Georgetown on Clay's arm. Shopping in elegant boutiques. Dinners—just the two of them—in famous restaurants.

The reality might be quite different, she realized with a pang of disappointment. Would it be endless days in the stifling heat of backwater towns like Twin Oaks, campaigning—groveling—for votes? Her intuition warned her that more time than she'd ever bargained for would be spent on the campaign trail.

She could use her career as an excuse and duck out of some events, but the judge was a shrewd man. He would notice if she were magically free for parties in Washington, but not available for his speeches to hillbillies. She studied her long, immaculate nails and tried to decide how to handle this.

Maybe the Kincaids should have dumped her when Kat had gotten into trouble again. Atlanta was sounding better and better. Not Washington, but a fresh start in a lively city.

What about Clay?

Good question. She gazed at the heirloom ring gracing her left hand. If she married him, Tori knew she would be committing to a life of utterly boring political campaigns. From what she'd learned, the judge saw this senate seat as a stepping stone to the presidency.

Granted, the White House had its allure, but at what price? Rob Everett was always ordering them around. Where to go. What to say. What to wear. If the judge ultimately became president, Tori would lose her freedom. The Secret Service would be all over them like ants at a picnic.

And what about Clay?

She couldn't imagine breaking the engagement—even if their marriage had been the judge's idea. She'd loved Clay
forever.
She'd always envisioned herself as Mrs. Clayton Kincaid. Her mother would be devastated beyond belief if Tori broke the engagement.

But what about Clay?

How did he really feel? He'd contributed little during the strategy sessions, but then, even the judge had found it difficult to get Everett to shut up long enough to express his own opinions. Clay had spent last night with her. He'd rolled over, his back to her, and had fallen asleep immediately. He'd left early this morning for a deposition.

Gabby Anne trundled toward Tori, a pot of coffee in one hand and a plate with a decadent cinnamon bun in the other. There but for the grace of God, Tori thought. Gabby Anne had been in Tori's class, but she'd had to get married a week after graduation. The first of five—or was it six?—kids appeared that fall. Her no-good husband bounced from job to job. That meant Gabby Anne had to support the family by waiting tables. She lived off tips and Tori always left her double what a waitress would expect.

Gabby Anne looked closer to forty than thirty, yet she always had a smile for every customer. Tori detected a wellspring of regret beneath Gabby Anne's relentless smile, but frowns didn't earn tips. Just seeing the woman made Tori realize how lucky she was. Other than Cloris Howard at the bank, Tori earned more money than any woman in town.

No doubt, Gabby Anne would love to trade places, to wear fab clothes, to have a handsome, rich fiancé—and go on the campaign trail. So why was Tori giving in to self-pity and belly-aching?

Another unpleasant thought assailed Tori. The judge expected her to produce a grandson—immediately. She needed several years of marriage before embracing motherhood. Children were okay…but she couldn't imagine being pregnant. One look at Gabby Anne made Tori shudder. Having children ruined your figure. Imagine the stretch marks under the woman's rumpled uniform!

Gabby Anne grinned and placed the cinnamon roll in front of Tori. The sweet scent of melted sugar and cinnamon wafted through the air. Tori's stomach rumbled in anticipation, and she rallied a bit, already savoring the long-denied treat.

“Your poor, poor sister,” Gabby said in hushed tones.

Tori almost snapped that Kat was only her half sister, then the words Rob Everett had drummed into all of them surfaced.
Take the high ground. Show sympathy, but distance yourself.

“I know.” Tori tested the softness of the warm roll with her fork and sectioned off a piece. “Terrible, isn't it?”

Gabby Anne tsked and replied, “Who says lightning doesn't strike twice?”

Tori halted, fork just an inch from her mouth. “Twice?”

“You didn't hear about what went on out at Justin Radner's place in the middle of the night?”

Tori silently listened while the talkative waitress launched into an amazing tale of how Kat had narrowly missed being killed by a paroled convict who was gunning for Justin. Her sister was like a noose around her neck, choking her more and more as each day passed. It was as if some malevolent power was using Kat to torture Tori.

Gabby Anne lumbered off to wait on a customer, and Tori stared down at the roll. She tried to eat it, but the treat now tasted like a lead biscuit. She took out her cell phone and called Clay to see what he would make of this latest event. His secretary told Tori that Clay hadn't come in yet.

Tori clicked off, puzzled and upset. How could that be? He told her he had a deposition. The light dawned. The deposition must be elsewhere—possibly even Jackson. She tried his cell, got his voice mail, and left a message.

 

K
AT STUDIED
the dummy of the
Trib
's next edition on her computer screen. There was a news hole on the front page above the fold for the story of Lucas Albright's attack. Connie Proctor had informed her the second she'd arrived that David was still at home interviewing someone over the telephone. When he returned, David would write the article, insisted the copy editor. No, Kat couldn't do it. She was personally involved, which meant a conflict of interest.

Connie had been almost sweet—nicer than she'd ever been—but firm. The
Trib
must feature David's article. Still, Kat hadn't been able to resist typing in a few of her more vivid memories of the incident in the background section for David to review before he wrote the story.

When Kat had finished, she pulled up the issue about her car accident and her rescue by the Hill family. She skimmed it quickly, puzzled.

“Here's some herbal tea to soothe your nerves.” Connie placed a steaming crockery mug on her desk.

“Thanks,” Kat replied and made an effort to return the woman's sympathetic smile. She wished Connie would go back to copy editing. Lord knew the woman had plenty of headlines to create. There was no way Kat was going to drink or eat anything she hadn't personally prepared. Well, if David or Justin gave her something, she wouldn't refuse.

She thought Connie was looking at her oddly. She didn't suspect the older woman but Kat intended to be vigilant every moment. She didn't want to hurt Connie's feelings, so she tried to divert her attention from the herbal tea.

“I notice there's no mention of belladonna in David's article about my accident.”

Connie frowned, deepening the lines between her eyes and on her forehead. Her eyebrows were a dark contrast to her overbleached blond hair. Kat couldn't help thinking that Lola Rae could do wonders with the copy editor's hair, but didn't say a word. Kat couldn't help feeling that Connie disapproved of her and resented the time it took for David to train Kat.

“You know how David is,” Connie said with a smile that made Kat wonder if the woman had a thing for her boss. Probably not, she decided. David was the type of man who earned his employees' respect. Small-town papers very rarely had editors from publications as prestigious as the
Globe
. He could teach them things they would never have learned at a small paper. “Mavis Hill was only speculating. The
Trib
deals in facts.”

“Of course.” Kat reached for the mug and warmed her hands on it, hoping Connie would assume she was going to drink the tea. Connie muttered something about getting to the heads and walked over to her cubicle. Kat put down the mug.

She struggled to keep her focus on the rewrites about the upcoming fair, the Boy Scouts' Jamboree, and other local events. David was right, she realized, and not for the first time. Rewriting reports phoned in from the field was a total bore. There was nothing like original material.

She glanced up and almost jumped out of her chair. She hadn't heard a footstep, but Dwayne Hill was standing in front of her space in the cube farm. He grinned, the off-beat smile that chilled her somehow.

“Dwayne. It's good to see you.” She stood up slowly, every muscle still aching from the ordeal with Lucas Albright. “I didn't get a chance to tell you how grateful I am to you and—”

“No need. You thanked Ma. Thass good enough.”

“I need to thank all of you.” She switched the weight of her sore body from one foot to the other, a little uneasy. “Is there something I could get your mother? What do you think she'd like?”

He stared at her and chawed on a wad of tobacco, as if the concept of a gift was alien to him. “Don't you be gettin' her nuthin'. I'll buy whatever she needs.”

Something in his tone curtailed any further discussion. He flipped the keys to her Toyota over the Lucite divider. She lunged and managed to catch them with both hands.

“Car's all fixed. Billy Dean and me straightened out the bumper. Yer good to go.”

“Thank you so much! It's hard to be without wheels.”

Dwayne looked at her with eerie intensity and chuckled, a silent laugh that spooked Kat. She forced a smile and a little wave as he turned and left. She was too nervous to ask if there was anything she could do for him.

“What was that all about?” Connie asked in a voice loud enough to carry across the cubicles from where she was working to Kat's station.

“He was just returning my car. That's all.”

Connie rolled her eyes and sat down again to work on the heads. Kat knew what she was thinking. The Hills were a bit strange, was the consensus of the locals. But Kat knew from experience that you could count on the Hills for help, unlike most of the other people in this town.

Half an hour later, David sailed through the door, Max at his side. He beamed when he spotted Kat at her desk. Connie popped up from her cube and waved to him. “Check these heads.”

“Later,” he called and motioned Kat to come with him.

She jumped up, relieved to get away from the rewrites and wondering if he'd discovered anything that would shed light on her predicament. He bear-hugged her. “You're looking so much better today.”

Kat hoped she wasn't blushing. A night in Justin's arms and several rounds of sex had energized her. She felt a special sense of truly belonging to a person, of finally experiencing both physically and emotionally, the meaning of love. Not that Justin had uttered the
L
word, but that's how she felt—in love.

His arm still around her shoulder, they walked into David's office. Max trotted on ahead of them and scooted under the desk. “I spoke to a source in the FDIC,” he told her in a low voice. “I wanted to know about the inspection set for the bank just before you were arrested. The FDIC randomly audits banks. Their visit is announced less than a week before they appear. They don't want to give the bank time to cook the books.”

“The best way to rob a bank is to own a bank.” Kat didn't recall where or when she'd heard this but the saying came out. Just before she'd been accused of robbery, Kat hadn't paid much attention to the auditors. Cloris and Elmer had been sprucing up the place for days, anticipating the visit. Their activities hadn't seemed unusual considering it had been nearly twenty years since the last FDIC inspection.

“The robbery caused a postponement of the FDIC audit,” David added, his tone unusually solemn.

Kat had read every scrap of information about her case. All of it was related to her arrest and subsequent trial. Nothing about the audit had appeared in those reports. They wouldn't have, she realized. It would have been documented in federal records. Could this have something to do with the reason her record was sealed and the federal authorities were involved in sending her here to work undercover for them?

She realized her thoughts had caused a lull in the conversation, and David was regarding her with solemn speculation. “Did they ever complete the audit?”

“Not until six weeks after you were sentenced. When the bank became a crime scene, it was closed for a week while the investigation was conducted. The auditors were forced to reshuffle their schedule.”

Now Kat got the picture. “They didn't want the auditors in the bank. That's why I was framed. They needed the time to hide something.”

David collapsed into his chair, suddenly looking much older and world-weary. “Very possibly, but it'll be hard to prove, especially now with Elmer Bitner dead.”

“They think I'm a threat,” she said, unexpectedly relieved to finally put together the motive behind the scheme that had sent her to prison. “But why would they want to kill me now?”

“This is more complicated than it appears.” He ran his hand through his silver hair. “Before the final report could be submitted by the team of examiners, one of them was killed in an automobile crash.”

Kat picked up on an odd tone in his voice and looked at him more sharply. “Was there something suspicious about the accident?”