Killing Her Softly (31 page)

Sandra practically dragged him into her apartment. Once inside, he kicked the door closed behind them, not even bothering to lock it. Within two minutes flat, she was naked from the waist down and had unzipped his fly and freed his rock-hard penis. He toppled her over and down onto the couch in the living room, then just before he lost it completely, he paused.

"Wait just a second." He lifted himself up and off her just long enough to remove a condom from his pants pocket and hurriedly slid it down over his erection.

Chapter
2
1

Jim woke to the sound of humming and the smell of coffee perking. He rolled over, rooted his head against the pillow and opened his eyes. This wasn't his bed and this wasn't his apartment in the Exchange Building. He'd been living on Second Street, three blocks from the Criminal Justice Center, for the past five years and this definitely wasn't the bedroom in his place. For one thing, his room wasn't painted pale yellow and for another—he rubbed the sheet covering him between his thumb and forefinger—he didn't own any yellow satin sheets.

"Don't panic," a female voice said. "It's only six-thirty."

He rolled over, stretched and looked up at Sandra Holmes standing over him at the side of the bed a bright red cup in her hands and a smug smile on her face.

Now it was all coming back to him. Sandra. Sex. Satisfaction. Jim smiled. "Good morning."

"Yes, it is a good morning. And it was an incredible night." When Sandra sat down on the edge of the bed and held out the red mug to him, her oversized T-shirt rode up high enough to give him a glimpse of her naked thighs and bare hips. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing any panties.

Yeah, it had been a rather incredible night. Sandra was a top-notch officer, as good as any man on the force, but in the bedroom she was all woman. And his two performances last night—or rather early this morning—hadn't been too shabby, if he did say so himself. From the way Sandra had acted when she came both times, he figured he must have done something right.

As he sat up in bed the sheet dropped to his hips. He reached out and took the mug from Sandra. "I hope this is coffee."

"Hot and black."

"Just the way I like it." Taking a sip, he focused on the mug in order to avoid prolonged eye contact with the woman sitting beside him.

Jim wasn't sure what to say now. He'd never been much good at mornings after and this time, things were a bit more awkward than usual. This was a first for him—the first time he'd ever slept with a fellow police officer.

"I'm glad you stopped by last night," she told him.

"Yeah, me, too." He took another sip of coffee.

She chuckled the sound deep throated. "It's okay, Jim, I don't expect anything from you this morning. Last night, I wanted you and you wanted me. We had some fantastic sex— twice—but we didn't make any promises or declare our undying love. If this turns out to have been a one-night stand I'm okay with it. And if we decide we want to see each other again, that's fine with me, too."

Jim heaved a huge internal sigh, although outwardly he simply looked at Sandra and grinned. He took another swig from the mug, then handed it back to her and said "I'd better get going. I need to run by my apartment to shower, shave and change clothes before heading to the office."

Sandra stood then keeping her back to him, responded "I'm off duty this weekend so I'll see you Monday." Not waiting for him to comment, she walked out of the bedroom, into the adjoining bath and closed the door behind her.

Jim jumped out of bed picked up his discarded clothing and dressed as quickly as he could. But he felt he needed to say something to Sandra before he left, even if it was just good-bye. He walked over and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Yeah?" Sandra called. "I'm leaving now."

She eased the door open no more than three inches, just enough for him to get a glimpse of her naked body. Her hot body. The lady was stacked.

"Come back anytime."

Jim swallowed hard. "Yeah, I just might. Thanks."

"Thank you." She winked at him, then closed the door.

Get going while you still can. If you don't leave now, you
'
ll
 
be humping her in the shower in three minutes flat.

Jim all but ran to the front door and out into the hall. As he headed downstairs, he slowed his pace and started whistling.

Chad George met Annabelle when she entered the tenth floor of the Criminal Justice Center. She'd called his cell phone on her drive into Memphis to tell him she had decided she wanted to be there this morning when the DNA results came in. After all, she felt she owed him the courtesy of telling him beforehand and not just showing up unannounced.

"There's really no need for you to be here," he told her. "I would have phoned you with the information." He slipped his arm through hers and led her straight to the interview room, which was empty. "Let me get you some coffee."

"No, thank you." She glanced around the room and out into the office through the open door. "Am I the first to arrive?"

"We're expecting Cortez and Aaron Tully, along with Cortez's lawyer, any minute now, and Randall Miller's bringing his lawyer with him, too."

"Have you seen the DNA report?"

"No, I just arrived a few minutes ago. I'm sure my partner has the report by now."

Annabelle noted something in Chad's voice and in the expression on his face. Anger? Yes, that was it—disguised anger, but anger nonetheless. Was he upset that his partner, the senior detective on the case, would see the report first?

"Will you be staying in Memphis overnight?" Chad asked. "If you are, I'd like to take you to dinner."

"I'm staying, but I have to decline your offer. I've already made plans for this evening." She had no intention of telling him that she planned to spend the evening with Quinn.

"Oh." A combination of irritation and disappoint-
ment
etched his features. "Another time then."

When Chad started to say something else, she just knew he was going to ask her with whom she'd made plans for this evening. But Jim Norton breezed into the room whistling, unwittingly coming to her rescue.

The minute Lieutenant Norton saw Annabelle, he nodded to her and said, "Good morning, Ms.
Vanderley
. I didn't expect to see you today."

"I decided I should be here to represent the family."
And to be with Quinn when he finds out whether or not he fathered Lulu's baby.

"You're certainly welcome," Norton said. "The Memphis police department wants to do everything possible to assist you and the
Vanderley
family."

Jim Norton held a file folder securely tucked beneath his arm. The DNA report? As he laid the folder on the table and pulled out a chair, Annabelle studied the police lieutenant. Broad shouldered lean hipped washboard flat belly. His dark brown hair was cut conservatively short. His clothes were neat, but inexpensive, probably several years old and purchased off the rack. He appeared to have freshly shaved this morning and there was a twinkle in his eyes. She sensed that he was happy about something. Something personal.

"Have you read the report?" Chad eyed the folder, then reached for it.

After sitting down, Jim slammed his big hand down on top of the folder, preventing Chad from picking it up. "Yeah, I've read it. And as soon as everyone involved gets here, I'll reveal the results."

Chad glowered at his partner.

Voices outside the open door gained Annabelle's attention. A silver-haired man in his fifties and a forty-something, partially bald man entered the room. Pleasantries were exchanged between Chad and the silver-haired man whom Chad called Mr. Miller. So that was one of Lulu's other lovers, the one she referred to as Randy. The man was twice Lulu's age, but that was no surprise. Lulu loved older men. Especially rich and powerful older men.

"Let's get this over with," Randall Miller said.

"We're waiting for Mr. Cortez and Mr. Tully," Chad explained.

"Who's this Tully?" Miller asked.

"Another man who had sex with Lulu
Vanderley
in the past two months," Lieutenant Norton said. "Another daddy candidate."

Miller's face pinched into a displeased expression.

"Won't you sit down, Mr. Miller? And you, too, Mr. Baldwin." Chad pulled out a chair for Miller.

Annabelle couldn't help noticing the differential way in which Chad treated Randall Miller and his lawyer. The expression "kissing up" immediately came to mind. It had become quite apparent to her that Chad aligned himself with people he thought could benefit him in some way. What did he think real estate czar Miller could do for him? Just what
were
Chad's plans for his future?

Suddenly, she realized that Quinn had arrived, sensing his presence first, several minutes before she actually saw him. Like an odd sort of feminine radar, she knew the moment he entered the homicide department. Her stomach fluttered; her heartbeat accelerated.

Annabelle glanced at the door just as Quinn approached the interview room. Their gazes met, connected and separated in the span of half a second. Warmth originated deep inside her and quickly spread through her entire body. Sensual fire ignited by her close proximity to Quinn Cortez.

"If everybody will take a seat, we'll get this done quickly," Jim Norton said as he stood and indicated the empty chairs.

Chad pulled out the chair to Annabelle's left and sat down beside her. When he placed his hand on the back of her chair, she glanced over her shoulder and frowned. He removed his hand instantly.

Annabelle looked at the two men with Quinn. She assumed the younger was Aaron Tully. He was about the same height as Quinn, only youthfully lanky, and possessed the same dark coloring as his employer. The other man with Quinn, his lawyer Judd Walker, looked familiar to her. He was an inch or two taller than Quinn and had the most fascinating golden eyes, a few shades lighter than his honey brown hair. When she'd first heard his name mentioned, she'd thought she should know him and believed that they had met at some time. But when and where?

When he walked past her, Mr. Walker nodded and smiled. "How are you, Ms.
Vanderley
? I'd like to extend my condolences on the loss of your cousin."

She returned his smile. "Thank you, Mr. Walker."

Studying his face for the sixty seconds of their exchange, Annabelle remembered where she had met this man. At the same charity event in Chattanooga where she'd met Griffin Powell a few years ago.

Quinn sat across the table from Annabelle, but didn't glance her way. His lawyer remained standing, as did Randall Miller's lawyer. With her hands folded in her lap and one foot placed partly behind the other, Annabelle looked directly at Lieutenant Norton and said a silent prayer that the DNA results would show that either Aaron Tully or Randall Miller had fathered Lulu's baby. For Quinn's sake, she hoped the child hadn't been his.

Norton opened the file folder, glanced at the report, then swept his gaze around the room, looking briefly at each person. "The DNA report proves conclusively that Randall Miller couldn't have fathered Lulu's baby."

Miller released a loud sigh. "Am I free to go?"

"Certainly," Norton said. "But we may need to question you again in the course of this investigation."

"My client will be at your disposal," Mr. Baldwin said as he followed his client, who was already opening the door in his eagerness to leave.

"Aaron Tully wasn't the father, either," Norton said.

Annabelle's stomach muscles knotted. She hazarded a quick glance at Quinn, who sat there stoic, his expression showing no emotion whatsoever.

She turned and glanced at Chad. He was smiling, damn him.

"And Mr. Cortez," Jim looked right at Quinn. "You were not the father."

"What?" Chad shouted.

Annabelle's and Quinn's gazes met and held. Relief washed over her like a cleansing rain. And she felt Quinn's relief in every fiber of her being.

"Mr. Tully, you are free to go, but just as with Mr. Miller, we may need to question you further at a later time," Norton said.

"Wait a minute." Chad shot up out of his chair. "If Cortez, Miller or Tully wasn't the father—"

Cutting his partner off midsentence, Norton turned to Annabelle and said "Ms.
Vanderley
, would you stay, please. I'd like to talk to you about the DNA results."

"Yes, certainly." Chill bumps broke out on her arms.
Please, God, don't let him tell me what I fear the most.