Have You Seen Her? (30 page)

Thursday, October 6, 11:30
P.M.

“What do you know that you’re not telling me?” Jenna asked when they’d stopped in front of her apartment. “You’re too quiet. Too something. I don’t know. Tell me what you know.”

Steven braced himself. “Your brakes were cut, Jenna. Casey’s accident was no accident.”

Her face drained of all color leaving her white and trembling. “No,” she whispered. “They wouldn’t.” He said nothing, but took her hand and let her squeeze the life out of his. She leaned back, her eyes shut, her lips a strange fluorescent purple in the glare of the parking lot lights. “I thought it, in the waiting room, but didn’t want to believe it was true,” she said, her voice harsh. “But it is.” She clenched her teeth. “Steven, I need to run an errand. Will you drive me?”

“Where?” Steven asked warily.

“Just drive, please. I’ll tell you where.”

Thursday, October 6, 11:50
P.M.

After twenty minutes Steven stopped, looking up at their destination in a combination of disbelief and a strange feeling of karma. “This isn’t a good idea, Jenna.”

Her lips were set in mutinous determination. “You don’t have to go in. I, however, do.”

He guessed she did. He watched for a moment as she got out of the Volvo and marched up to the front door of the house, the whiteness of her karate
gi
making her look like she glowed in the dark. He caught up with her as she rang the doorbell.

Nobody answered. The house was dark.

“I think they’re all asleep,” he said mildly.

“Then let them wake
up
,” she gritted and leaned into the doorbell, creating one continuous chime they could hear through the expensive stained-glass door.

Finally a light came on. The door opened revealing a tired-looking woman in a flannel nightgown. A god-awful ugly flannel nightgown. “What is this about?” she asked imperiously.

Jenna pushed the door open and stalked in, leaving the woman agape. “Mrs. Lutz, I’m Dr. Marshall and I want to talk to you and your husband. You might as well cooperate, unless you want to call the police. Then we’ll have a nice conversation about what a saintly son you have.”

Mrs. Lutz paled. “Get out.”

Jenna stood her ground, nose to nose with Mrs. Lutz. “I will not. I will talk to you and your husband. Now.”

“Nora, what’s going on?”

Steven looked up to see Mr. Lutz coming down the stairs, tucking his shirt into his slacks. Jenna waited until he got to the base of the stairs before speaking.

“I have had enough of your terror tactics,” she said coldly and Lutz had the nerve to look bored.
Big mistake
, Steven thought.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Miss
Marshall.” Jenna advanced until she was toe to toe with the hulking man and Steven poised himself to drag her away before it became physically confrontational. “It’s
Dr.
Marshall, you sniveling little man,” she said and Steven bit back a grin.

“Nora, call the police,” Lutz said calmly.

“Go ahead, call the police,” Jenna returned, now as calm as Lutz. On the surface only, Steven knew. “Call Al Pullman of the Investigative Division. I’m sure he’d like to talk with you.”

Lutz scowled. “Get out.
Miss
Marshall.”

“I will,” she said evenly, “but not until I’ve said what I came to say. You think you’re clever. You think I’ll give your son a grade he did not earn. But you’re wrong. Not only will I ensure your son never graduates from my school, I will not rest until he’s behind bars for what he’s done.”

Steven watched Lutz but didn’t see a single flicker of fear. Either Davies was wrong and Rudy was not the infamous William Parker or Lutz was good. Steven preferred to believe the sonofabitch was good. Really good. But ultimately not good enough.

Lutz said nothing and Jenna shook her head in disbelief. “A few spray-painted epithets I can take. Slashed tires and water in my gas tank I can take. I can even take the dead possum your son hung in my classroom yesterday morning.”

Steven straightened. He hadn’t heard about that. Animal mutilation was inextricably linked to serial killers. Almost all of them had killed animals at one time or another.

“But,” Jenna was continuing, “attempted murder I cannot take. Neither will the police.”

Lutz raised a brow. “You’re delusional.”

Jenna’s jaw went rigid. “No, I’m not delusional. I’m alive. But I may not have been and now my best friend’s lying in ICU because she drove my car this afternoon. My brakes were cut today, Mr. Lutz.
That
is not adolescent vandalism.
That
is no longer a misdemeanor.
That
is a felony.”

Lutz did pale at that. “What are you talking about?”

“I suggest you ask your son.” Jenna turned away, then turned back for one more exchange. “One more thing, Mr. Lutz. You’d better be praying my friend pulls through or the charge will be murder. And
that
doesn’t sit well with college scouts.”

She turned on her heel and walked out the door. Steven followed her quietly, still mulling over the look of shock on Lutz’s face. Of two things Steven was fairly certain. Lutz hadn’t known about the brakes nor did he care for the idea of his son being charged with felony murder. Go figure.

T
WENTY
-
ONE

Friday, October 7, 12:30
A.M.

J
ENNA DIDN
’
T SAY A WORD UNTIL THEY WERE
in her apartment with the door closed.

“Son of a
bitch,
” she muttered, jerking at the belt on her
gi
. Her fingers stilled and her shoulders sagged. “Dammit,” she whispered and his heart sagged, too. A wave of tenderness washed over him, and with it, a fierce need to protect her.

“Here, let me,” Steven said softly and went to work on the knot in her brown belt. He slipped the belt from around her waist and draped it over the soft arm of her sofa. Then he slipped the
gi
from her shoulders and laid it on top of the belt, leaving her in T-shirt and the
gi
bottoms.

And a bra
, he thought, tenderness sliding over to make way for lust. He tried not to think about it. “Turn around,” he ordered, his voice husky in the quiet of her apartment. She obeyed and he massaged her shoulders, trying not to let her soft groan distract him from his relatively innocent task.

To make her feel good. To take away her stress.
Be honest. To get your hands on her again.

“That feels good,” she said thickly, dropping her chin to her chest. He pushed her ponytail to one side and went to work on her neck. Tried to ignore the urge to kiss it. Tried to ignore the throbbing of his body. His erection was nothing new. He’d been stiff as a board since she’d given Lutz a piece of her mind. She’d been magnificent. But this was different. This was more.

He gave in and dipped his head, brushing his lips across the back of her neck, her sigh making his heart beat faster. Slipped his left arm around her, bracketing the underside of her breasts while his right hand massaged the long, lean line of her spine. Felt her heart beating hard against his arm. Felt her settle her incredible ass against his groin. He fought the urge to thrust, to bury himself deep inside her. He moved his arm, over and around so that her breast fell into his hand.

She drew a breath and he didn’t move. Neither did she. “Jenna,” he whispered.

“What?” she whispered back.

I want you,
his brain screamed.
I want to come inside you and pound and pound until everything else in the universe goes away.
“I want to kiss you.”

She was quiet a moment, then drew another deep breath, pressing her breast into his hand, her nipple as hard as a diamond against his palm. “On one condition.”

“Which is?” he breathed, ready to grant her anything. “That you don’t run away again,” she whispered and he groaned.

He spun her around, pulling her into his arms, grinding his mouth against hers. Finding relief in the kiss even as the wanting built hotter and higher. Her arms came around his neck and she pressed against him, her breast to his chest. Her hips against his hips. Her soft mound against the hard ridge of his cock.

She was perfect.
And mine. Mine, mine, mine.
His hands slid down her back and under her waistband of her
gi
. Down until they touched lace. Until they covered her ass. Until they yanked, drawing her higher, closer, bringing him deeper into her softness. Making her moan his name.

His name.
He pulled back, staring at her face. Her eyes, dilated and aroused. Her lips, full and pouty from their kiss. Her cheeks, slightly reddened from the scrape of his beard. “Say that again.”

“Steven,” she whispered again, but differently. Playfully. Flirtatiously. Her fingers dropped to his shirt, to the button in the middle of his chest. Nimbly she freed the buttons up until she reached his holster and down until she reached the waist of his pants. Then her hands were inside his shirt, splayed flat against his skin, her clever fingers tangling in the hair that covered his pecs. He shivered from the pleasure. Her hands felt so damn good. “Steven,” she whispered huskily.

It was his turn to swallow. “What?”

Her fingers butted up against the barrier of his shoulder holster. “Take it off.”

He was already shrugging out of his jacket. “Why?” he asked, catching a bit of her playfulness.

“Because it’s in my way.” She pushed at the holster again with her fingertips, from beneath his shirt. She looked up through her dark lashes, making him want to gobble her up in one bite. “I don’t think you want to get in my way.”

He unbuckled the clasp and blindly let the holster drop. “No, I don’t think I do.” He drew a startled breath, when her hands began to move again, her fingertips brushing against his nipples. His cock jumped against her and her eyes widened. His throat worked as he tried to make words come. Any words would do. Preferably words that would make her say “yes.”

“I want you,” he murmured. Direct. To the point. Honest as hell.

Her eyes on his, her fingertips still brushing his now painfully sensitive nipples she said, “Yes.”

Steven blinked. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I know.” Her hands moved up to his shoulders and began to push his shirt off. “Yes, I want you, too.”

Yes. She’d said yes. Wait.
Steven shook his head and lightly grabbed her wrists. “Wait.”

Her hands immobilized, Jenna leaned up on her toes and nuzzled his jaw. “For what?”

Her scent was in his head. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He shook his head again, dropped her wrists, and stepped backward. “Wait.”

Her pouty lips bent in a frown. “Are you planning to run away again?”

“Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know.”

“I like the no answer better.”

“You would.” Steven raked his fingers through his hair, frustrated. With himself, with her. But mostly with himself. “I’m sorry, Jenna, this is just too fast.”

She huffed out a breath and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t believe this is happening.” She turned and walked to the dining room, clutching the back of one of the chairs with a grip so tight Steven could see her knuckles whiten from ten feet away. “What’s wrong, Steven? Is it me?”

He was across the room in less than a second, pulling her around to face him. “No, it is not you. Not the way you’re asking anyway.”

“Then in just which way?” she asked and he was appalled to see tears in her eyes.

Panic gripped his gut where lust had been only moments before. “Oh, God, Jenna, don’t cry. Please.” She jerked out of his arms and turned her back again, crossing her arms tightly across her breasts.
She’s been through so much tonight,
he thought. That he’d made it worse wrenched at him. “Please, sweetheart, don’t cry.”

She sniffled and he knew it was too late. “I’ll cry if I want to,” she said, sounding very much like a little girl instead of the strong woman he knew her to be. “And you can’t stop me.”

He smiled, his own emotion swinging back to tenderness. “You sound like Nicky.”

Her shoulders heaved and his smile disappeared. “I know,” she muttered. “This sucks.”

“What sucks?” he asked carefully.

“My whole life. Friends and family who won’t rest until I’m married. Crazy teenagers trying to kill me, and now my best friend is in ICU.” She wheeled around, tears streaking her face, still easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “And then there’s you.”

Steven tilted his head forward. Carefully. “Me?”

Jenna took a step toward him, her fingertip jabbing into his chest. “Yes, you. I’m happy with my life. I have dogs. I have sports. I have friends.” She jabbed harder and he winced but said nothing. “I didn’t want you,” she went on, her voice gaining strength. “I would have been happy as a spinster with cats. But can I be happy as a spinster with cats now?”

Steven didn’t answer. He didn’t think he was supposed to. He was right.

“Nooo,” she said, on an obvious roll. “And why not? Because
you
woke up my hormones and now all I think about is kissing you! When I’m not worrying about crazy teenagers of course.”

“Of course.”

She glared at him. “You think this is funny, don’t you? You think it’s funny that all I want right now is to throw you down on the floor and have sex with you. Right now.”

Steven swallowed. Audibly. “No, I don’t think that’s funny at all. Believe me.”

She looked slightly mollified. “Well, all right then. Now what’ll we do?”

Steven ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’m sure I have no idea.”

“I need to walk the dogs,” she said wearily. “You can go if you want.”

Steven grasped her shoulders firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll walk the dogs. Why don’t you get something to eat?”

“Okay,” she murmured.

When he came back from walking the dogs, one at a time, he found her sitting at the table, wearing an oversized T-shirt and eating ice cream right out of the container with a big spoon.

“I actually had something more nutritious in mind,” he said, patting Jim on the head. Or Jean-Luc.

Jenna looked at the spoon with a philosophical air. “It’s Häagen-Dazs Rocky Road,” she said.

“Sorry, didn’t realize Häagen-Dazs Rocky Road had been elevated to one of the four major food groups.” He pulled out a chair and sat down at her table. “Jenna, I think we need to talk.”

She shrugged and looked away. “So talk,” she said and shoved another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She waved the spoon at him. “Go ahead. I’m waiting.”

He cleared his throat. “Truth of the matter is I’m flattered.” “Oh, God,” she groaned. “Not the I’m-flattered speech.” Steven raised his brows. “You’ve heard this before?”

She shook her head and dug deeper into the ice cream container in disgust. “No, but I read.”

Steven wanted to smile. “Well, I doubt you’ve heard it quite this way.”

Jenna wanted to scream. Wanted to pull her hair and just scream. Instead she ate some more ice cream. “Whatever,” she muttered, mentally preparing herself for more humiliation. “Just get it over with. I’m a nice woman and you like me, but you just want to be friends. Yadayadayada.”

He took the spoon from her hand and stuck it back in the container. “Look at me. Please.”

Jenna looked at him. At his beautiful brown eyes. At the body she still wanted. “I’m listening,” she said.

He closed his eyes and she saw his cheeks heat. He was embarrassed, she thought, as was she. It was bad enough to throw yourself at a man, but to be refused . . . It was humiliating.

“The truth is, I want you more than I want to breathe,” he said quietly.

Her eyes widened. “You do?”

He opened his eyes and glared. “I said I did.”

She drew a breath. “Okay, I’m still listening.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can do this more than once,” he said grumpily, which made her smile. He smiled then, too, and took her hand. “I have responsibilities, Jenna. Three of them. I can’t just be bringing home a succession of girlfriends that my kids get attached to. When I get involved with a woman, I need her to be the one.”

Jenna felt her throat close. The one. As in...the one. He couldn’t make it any plainer. And that...one... wasn’t her. “Okay, I understand. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, his brown eyes piercing. “I don’t think you do. Jenna, I’ve known you a week. That’s not long enough to know anything about you, or for you to know anything about me. I want to be honest with you. I like you. A hell of a lot. My kids could fall in love with you like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Nicky already has. But this isn’t a good time for either of us.” He drew a deep breath. “Tonight I was so close to taking everything you offered.”

“You were?”

He studied her soberly and her heart skipped a beat. “I was. I still am.” He squeezed her hand lightly. “I think I could fall in love with you, Jenna Marshall. You’re beautiful and nice and kind. You’re every man’s dream. But if I’d taken what you offered tonight, it might have been taking advantage. You’ve had a shock. You’ve had as close to a near-death experience as I pray you ever get. Can you look me in the eye and tell me part of what’s influenced you tonight wasn’t that?”

She couldn’t. Because he was right. “No,” she whispered. “I didn’t think so. I want you to want me. For me. And I want you to know that if we go on, it’s with the understanding that it’s got to be very, very serious.”

Jenna raised their joined hands to her lips and watched his beautiful brown eyes darken. He truly wanted her, but continued to control his own desires. For her. So as not to take advantage of her.
He thinks he could fall in love with me.
It was so unexpected.
He
was so unexpected. The way he’d turned her life upside down. She swallowed hard, yet her voice still came out as a husky whisper. “I think I could fall in love with you, too, Steven Thatcher. You’re a good man. Strong and kind.” She watched the muscle in his jaw twitch, his only movement. She thought about what it would be like with him, to be loved by him, and her heart raced. Then she allowed herself to think about his children, to imagine tucking Nicky in at night and hearing him call her “Mommy.” And her heart sighed. “And if we go on it’s with the understanding that I want your kids.”

He seemed to relax before her eyes. “Good. Now I think it’s your bedtime. I’ll tuck you in.”

And he did, just like her father used to. Then he turned out the lights and sat in the chair next to her bed. Within seconds her eyelids felt like sixteen-ton weights.