Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct (18 page)

“I don’t recall. Home most likely.”

“You must know Jimmy. He knows you,” Cooper pressed.

“A lot of people know me.”

“What about the morning of—”

“I really don’t have time for this.”

“Could you check your schedule?” Mackenzie could see the effect of their rapid-fire questions on Caprini as his head began to bob back and forth.

“Or your Rolodex. He’s a bookie on the Southside,” Cooper explained. “He runs various rackets on everything from horseracing to sports. Says he knows you.”

Caprini frowned. “I don’t care what some two-bit hoodlum claims. I said I don’t know him.”

“Actually, he’s a small-time loan shark, but he claims to work for a big fish...You.”

“If you’ve come here to do nothing more than make accusations, you can speak with my attorneys. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to discuss this Hardball fellow with you.”

A slight movement, no more than a change in shadows to her left, drew Mackenzie’s attention, but she kept her gaze fixed on Caprini.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. You’ve wasted enough of my time with these pointless questions. I really must get back to my business.” He stood with a nicotine-tainted wave of his hand. “Bernardo, show these officers the way to the door.”

The big brute moved forward, and Mackenzie chanced a glance toward the hallway. The shadow was gone.

“Mr. Caprini, don’t leave town. We will want to speak to you again,” she said as the brute shuffled them out of the room.

After the door slammed shut behind them, she and Cooper slipped into her car and pulled away.

“We’ve got a tail,” she observed after traveling about three blocks.

“Let ‘em follow. We’re headed back to the station, right?”

“By way of Harden’s residence. I want to see if we can bring him in, find out what he knows.” She slowed the car a bit. “If you can make out the plate, let’s run it when we get back.”

“Okay. Did you catch that back at Caprini’s?”

“The eavesdropper from the hallway? Yeah.” She braked for a stop sign.

“There was someone in the hall? No, I didn’t mean that. I meant his slip.”

“What slip?”

“He called the bookie Hardball.”

She glanced at her partner. “Yeah, so?”

“So if he doesn’t know Jimmy Harden, then why’d he use his street name?”

Mackenzie grinned. “Guess we riled him more than I thought.”

“That doesn’t prove he’s our guy though. I mean, sure, he’s a slimeball, but my bet’s still on Stone.”

She wove through traffic and slipped her sedan between a red semi and a taxi when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. “Grab that, will you?”

Cooper flipped open the phone. “Yellow...yeah, this is Mackenzie’s phone...” He frowned. “Hmm. Yeah. She’s here. Hang on.” He covered the mouthpiece and looked at her. “Speak of the devil...”

Mackenzie gave him a questioning look.

“When did you give Stone your number?”

She snatched the phone and steered with one hand. “How’d you get this number?”

“Hello, Detective.” Amusement tinged Rafe’s husky voice.

“Yeah, hi. Answer the question.”

“Let’s just say I have friends in the right places.”

She rolled her eyes. He probably owned the damn phone company.

“I wanted to thank you for last night.”

“Excuse me?” She nearly sideswiped a Volkswagen Bug.

His chuckle was deep, sensual. “For your handling of the Drake situation. You could’ve handled it differently.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like airing my cases on the nine o’clock news.”

“I want to see you tonight.”

“I’m kinda busy.” She wished she’d let Cooper drive. A glance in the mirror told her she hadn’t lost the tail, not that she wanted to.

“You have to eat some time, Detective. Why don’t I pick you up at eight? At the station or your place?”

“My place? How do you—”

“He knows where you live?” Cooper asked with a scowl.

“Shh.” She frowned at him, then slammed on the breaks before she ran up the tailpipe of an SUV. “No, the station’s fine. I’ve got to give you back your handgun anyway.”

“Wonderful,” Rafe said with a laugh. “You do know how to mix business with pleasure.”

“This is just business.” She’d fulfill the damn wager, nothing more.

“You handle the business then, Detective. I’ll take care of the pleasure. See you at eight.”

The line went dead. Mackenzie cursed.

“Hey, I’m outta here...Damn, Mac.”

“What?” Mackenzie glanced up and frowned at Cooper’s goggle eyes. “Don’t start.”

“I thought you said this was just business.”

She shut the file cabinet drawer and returned to her seat, which helped hide her stocking-clad legs under the desk. “It is.”

“Is that a new outfit?”

“No.”

“You’re wearing lipstick.”

“Don’t make me hurt you.” She punched the buttons on her keyboard instead.

“You’re taking Fuller’s orders a bit far, don’t you think?”

“It’s just a damn skirt. I’ve worn them before, ya know?”

“Yeah, to funerals.”

She sighed. “I went to work out and needed a shower, so I changed clothes. Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

She’d needed the break today after drawing a blank on Harden’s whereabouts and coming back to learn Hahn’s meeting with Fuller had included the mayor, among others. He was calling for a task force to handle the case, a task force led by a more veteran detective. Fortunately, Fuller had countered his efforts by pointing out that her team already had full cooperation from several other agencies, and that political grandstanding would disrupt any progress they’d achieved to date.

The sergeant cut the rug out from under Hahn by clarifying that because all of her reports were for his eyes only, a veteran detective was involved in the case. Fuller was aware of the leads being checked out and the efforts underway to find the killer. Any claim Hahn made about the case being mishandled would have to include Fuller, and no one was willing to go that far.

Mackenzie remained the lead investigator, but Fuller was increasing the pressure to wrap up the case, and he wasn’t happy to learn the results of the ballistics report. So after her debriefing, she spent an hour pounding her frustrations into a punching bag.

“That’s where you went for lunch—the gym? Who’d you beat up this time?” Cooper propped his butt on her desk. She really should invest in a potted cactus for that vacant corner.

“It was close. I pictured a certain assistant state’s attorney. But sometimes the punching bag resembled Stone and other times it had a buzz-cut.”

“Ouch. Okay. I get the picture. You can handle yourself. You don’t need me to babysit you on your date with a suspect.”

“It’s not a date!” Her teeth would crack if she gritted them any harder.

Cooper stood up and stepped back. “Right. Dinner, business meeting, stakeout. Whatever you want to call it.” His grin irritated her to no end. However, she couldn’t totally blame him. She’d ribbed him often enough about his dates, and since she hadn’t dated in eons, she hadn’t given him the chance to return the favor. Until now, although tonight wasn’t a date either.
It wasn’t
.

“I wouldn’t be going at all if you hadn’t had more faith in me.”

“So it’s
my
fault? How was I to know you’d bet—”

“Forget it. Just drop it, okay? I’ll get through it. Besides, Fuller ordered me to stay close. Maybe I can discover something that’ll help wrap this up.”

“You sure you don’t want backup?”

“One of us has to check out that bookie again. I can’t do it tonight, and we need to find him. I don’t want to wait. By the way, did you run the tags on our tail?”

“Yeah, rental car. I’m going to swing by O’Hare and see if I can scrounge up a rental agreement, although it’ll probably be leased to someone like John Doe.”

She nodded. “All right. Let me know what you find out.”

“Will do. Mac?”

She saved the file she’d pulled up on her computer and glanced at him.

“Be careful tonight.”

She smiled. “I will.”

After Cooper left, she spent the next hour going over the case files, looking for anything she’d missed before.

On the one hand, she had a suspect that fit the profile, but her instincts warred against the circumstantial evidence that pointed to his guilt. On the other hand, one of two victims had ties to a bookie who claimed to work for a man who’d been the focus of more criminal investigations than she could count. Racketeering, money laundering, loan sharking, and syndicated gambling. Now murder?

Suspicions and investigations didn’t always add up to convictions. Nothing ever seemed to stick with Caprini. A misdemeanor for disturbing the peace when he was a teenager, but since then, his record was spotless. If one only looked at court records.

“You must pay your attorneys a fortune,” she whispered.

“I do, but I was hoping to avoid including them in tonight’s entertainments,” a familiar, deep male voice rumbled from the doorway.

Why had she agreed to let him pick her up at the station? She should’ve said she’d meet him somewhere. Mackenzie nearly groaned seeing Rafe standing in her doorway. He wore a sleek black suit that had
custom-tailored
written all over it. If the man had that mile-long limo waiting outside, she’d beat the shit out of him.

“Did you have to dress up?”

“I didn’t.” He glanced down at a silk shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, black pants and suit coat. Removing the coat and tossing it over his shoulder, he grinned. “Would you rather I wore less?”

“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

He laughed, a rich masculine sound, which made her think of hot sands and warm waves. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” Mackenzie logged off her computer, approached him, and lowered her voice. “This is not a date.”

“Of course not.” But his smile said otherwise.

She slapped the gun case into his hands. “Here. We’re done with this. It tested clean. You want to check it?”

“No need.”

She felt like a nudist on parade as he escorted her through the station. She could almost hear the whispers starting and nearly collapsed in relief as the front doors came into view.

“Detective Lyons?”

Mackenzie stopped and turned as a fellow officer approached with a note in her hand.

“This just came in for you.”

“Thanks.” She took the paper, read it, and frowned. “Did you see who left this?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She pocketed the note and glanced at her watch.

“Trouble?” Rafe asked.

“No. It’ll wait for later. Let’s go.”

He should have used the limo, even though that would surely stir the detective’s ire. Rafe tried to focus on driving, but a pair of long legs tugged his gaze like a compass attracted to magnetic north. Mackenzie’s sapphire-colored skirt was a sleek number that hung to a modest length just above her knees when she stood. But when she sat... One creamy leg lifted, crossed, and the skirt slid a millimeter higher. His body screamed for the material to slide further north.

A blaring horn behind him signaled the green light. Rafe pressed the gas and silently cursed his own inability to control his growing urges. Her crystal blue gaze shifted to him. A tiny line formed between her delicately arched eyebrows. God, did she not know what a challenge she offered?

“You continue to eye me with suspicion,” he said.

“You’re a mysterious man.”

He smiled. “I think that’s a compliment.” When that line between her eyebrows deepened, he chuckled. “Are you so worried about any appearance of impropriety that you can’t admit to a simple compliment?”

She licked her lips, and his mouth went desert-dry. “I don’t care so much about what others might think as what I know to be true. I don’t break rules.” She glanced back out the passenger window.

Rafe frowned. Would she feel the same if she ever learned he was Lycan? What about the Lykos Institute’s shadow operations? Could he trust her to keep their secret, knowing that to succeed in their mission to save lives they had to break human laws?

She was attracted to him, he knew, but would that be enough to secure her silence? Her cooperation?

“I thought we were going to your place?” She looked at him. “You just passed the street.”

He could fall into the blue depths of her eyes, but if he wasn’t careful, she could be his downfall.

“We are.” He reached out to caress the corner of her down-turned mouth with his thumb and almost smiled when she didn’t pull away, but nibbled her lip instead. “I own many places. One of them happens to be the city’s premier Italian restaurant.”

“Oh.”

A short time later, he pulled his Jaguar in front of the restaurant, gave the valet his keys, and escorted the detective inside. He had to force himself not to grin when he witnessed her quickly suppressed awe. She was trying so hard not to enjoy herself.

The maitre d’ showed them to his usual table in a quiet but public corner. “Madam,” he said as he held the chair for Mackenzie.

“Thank you.”

Rafe watched her smile light her eyes and the room. So unexpected, she’d quite literally leaped into his life and turned it topsy-turvy. Her influence should have angered him, but instead, she stirred his alpha instincts to new heights. Why couldn’t he stay away from her? She threatened his mission, his pack...not to mention his freedom. But he wondered if the real danger wasn’t actually to his heart.

That thought surprised him. She was unlike his usual preferences. Not as tall. Not as sophisticated. But she reminded him of a rose. Prickly backbone guarding a delicate beauty. A blossom drawing him nearer, while the thorns warned him away. She was...a challenge.

She frowned. “You’re staring.”

“Yes.”

His answer obviously disconcerted her as a precious blush bloomed on her cheeks, unmarred by her furrowed brow.

“Well, knock it off before I...”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “Before you what?”

She met his gaze boldly. “Before I do something childish like kick you in the shins.”

He couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “You are positively delightful.”