Lying Eyes (11 page)

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Authors: Toni Noel

Tags: #Serial Killers, #Cops

BOOK: Lying Eyes
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"And become bitter like you? No thanks. And while we're having this heart-to-heart, you should try freeing the barbed wire guarding your heart and let yourself
feel
for a change. Despite what you think, it's not unmanly to have feelings and express them."

His grip on the empty beer bottle tightened. "We've beat this dead horse long enough. Ready to go to the room?"

"You obviously are."

Based on Carlo's tight expression, my heated words derailed any hope of us having a relationship. I don't regret my outburst. The air needed clearing, for all the good it did.

Disappointed, Allison stood.

"What's in store for tomorrow?" Carlo asked warily.

"More of the same, I suppose."

"I'll text the team and let them know to gather in your room to rehash today's happenings and decide if any of their instructions need to be changed."

As she headed to the elevator, Allison again felt eyes watching her. She straightened her spine, shrugged her shoulders, and walked faster, determined not to glance around or share her feelings with Carlo.

He'd laugh at her. Instead, she sharpened her tongue by picking another fight with him in the elevator before joining the team in her room.

Good thing she had
,
she thought five minutes later, seated on her bed and listening to Marsha rake Carlo over the coals. "Don't ever tell me to take a break while I'm on stakeout again. You forgetting your radio caused us to miss the perfect opportunity to corner the perp. We would be sleeping in our own beds now it you hadn't slipped up."

"Sorry," Carlo said, leaning so far back in a straight-backed chair the front legs lifted off the floor. "I promise not to forget my radio again."

Allison grinned. "At least you remembered your gun. Where
was
it concealed?"

He gave her a smartass grin.

"Why don't we use Allison for bait to draw this guy out in the open?" Susan asked.

Carlo's dark eyes flashed as the legs of his chair crashed to the floor. "No. We're not putting an innocent woman at risk. Not on my watch."

"But she—"

"No. Unless we run out of options, Allison is not becoming a target."

I already am, Carlo.

Chapter Twelve

––––––––

C
arlo's unrelenting refusal to use me to draw the perp out of hiding doesn't make sense,
Allison thought as she strode across the hall to Susan's room.
I'm the one the perp is after. Why keep me under tight restraints? If the perp grows too desperate, he may try something in a crowded workshop.

"Can you talk some sense into Carlo?" she asked as soon as Susan opened the door.

Susan tossed a delighted grin at Marsha. "Looks like we picked the right night for our roast."

"What has Carlo done now? Nothing a little champagne won't make better, I hope," Marsha said, filling another flute.

"Lead me to it," Allison said, her jaw tight and fists clenched. "He's driving me crazy with his mothering tactics, smothering me. All I'm asking for is freedom to be myself, freedom to do my own thing without Carlo peering over my shoulder and dictating my every move."

"Tiresome, isn't it?"

"And boring. I couldn't even enjoy a margarita without him spoiling my mood. Doesn't he ever take a break? Go fishing or something to take his mind off drug lords and crime?"

Susan and Marsha exchanged amused glances. Then Susan dug in her purse, removed a five-dollar bill and passed it to Marsha with a grim smile. "Looks like you win this round."

"What was the wager?"

"Susan bet Carlo would romance you in the bar," Marsha said, laughing as she pocketed the money.

"I wish. Always-on-duty Demetri called me on the carpet before our drinks arrived."

Marsha sighed. "What's he upset about now?"

"I emailed a story I wrote about the immigrant woman we talked to in the gift shop to a newspaper for publication. He went ballistic, convinced I'd spilled my guts about this case. Does he always believe the worst about everyone?"

"Sometimes it's what keeps his team alive," Susan said with a shrug.

Allison dipped a potato chip in blue-cheese dip and munched before commenting. "I've discovered he does have a few soft spots."

"What? Tell us," Susan pleaded.

"For one, he likes cats."

"Like we didn't know. He keeps a photograph of Snookums on his desk," Susan said.

"And he's thoughtful to the extreme where his mother is concerned."

Marsha and Susan exchanged surprised glances. "Funny, he's never mentioned having a mother to us."

"Perhaps because he's as tight-lipped as a shy two-year-old where personal things are concerned. I wouldn't have known anything about his brothers if Hanson hadn't told me, to keep me from sticking my foot in my mouth," Susan said.

"What about his brothers?" Allison asked, determined not to betray a confidence.

Susan and Marsha exchanged another glance. "It will be better if Carlo tells you, not us," Susan said.

"Oh."
I already know.
"What else?"

Marsha grinned. "Carlo has the most incredible curls."

"The kind you can't wait to plow your fingers through," Susan said dreamily.

"I noticed," Allison said, running her fingers through her curls.

"Promise you will tell us if you get to," Marsha said dreamily.

"How long have the two of you had crushes on him?" Allison asked.

"Since the first day he walked into Central," Susan confessed.

"Me, too. He held the door to the briefing room open for me that morning. When I walked through the musk-and-Zest cloud surrounding him and entered the room I decided this clean, buff man is all mine
."

"Did you ever act on your decision?" Susan asked.

"I tried, but was rebuffed at every turn. I decided he'd been hurt badly by some female in his past dumb enough to reject his advances."

Allison frowned. "You think a woman hurt him?"

"I don't," Susan said. "He's too strong for personal rejection to scar him. There's something else bothering Carlo. Something we may not live long enough to uncover."

Marsha chuckled. "He does keep his sails trimmed close to the wind."

"His handsome face closely shaved, too. I keep fantasizing about running my tongue around the deep cleft in his chin," Susan said, pouring another round of champagne.

Allison grinned. "Me, too."

Marsha and Susan exchanged another speaking gaze.

"You're closer to getting your tongue on Carlo than any woman of our acquaintance has ever been," Marsha admitted.

"For all the good it does me," Allison said. "The man is on duty 24/7."

Susan sat back down, nursing the empty bottle. "Relax. He won't always be."

"I wonder what his mother is like," Allison said.

"Tolerant."

"Malleable."

"Proud."

"She probably drops to her knees every night praying for grandchildren."

Replies bombarded Allison like quiz show answers, so fast she couldn't keep track of who said what. "I've spent some time on my knees these past few days, too."

"This will soon end," Marsha assured her.

"And not a minute too soon, if you ask me," Susan added.

*****

S
aturday morning, Allison woke in a bad mood. She hadn't slept well. Thoughts of being used as a decoy kept circling in her head. Sleep had evaded her until she convinced herself her becoming a decoy was the best solution to this stalemate.

Being ill-prepared for her afternoon presentation worsened her mood.

She'd about had her fill of alpha heroes, especially Carlo, and was no longer looking forward to lecturing about them.

She showered and shampooed her hair, blew it dry, and had nearly finished when her resident detective knocked on the connecting door.

"Allison, room service is here."

Grrr. He could have asked me what I wanted to eat.

She clenched her fists. "Coming." She slipped on her shoes, thankful she'd carefully dressed for the day before drying her hair.

The good smell of fresh-roasted coffee improved her mood considerably, and by her second cup she was able to stop speaking in monosyllables.

Carlo had attempted to tame his curly hair. On a whim, she yanked out her phone and snapped a head shot of him checking his phone for messages. He didn't notice.

She knew just where she'd use his image.

Her mood continued to lighten and she grinned as he refilled her cup. "Thanks, I needed this."

"Hung over?"

She shook her head. "I know better. One margarita is my limit."

"I'm not surprised. Most slim women need to restrict their alcohol intake. What's your schedule like for today?"

"My last presentation is at ten. After that, I'll be home free and can finally enjoy the conference. How about you?"

"I'm through presenting. I'd been asked to fill in on a panel this afternoon. The pregnant wife of the forensic expert originally assigned to the panel went into premature labor and he rushed home to welcome his first-born into the world, but she delivered quickly. I just received word he left his wife and newborn baby in good hands at the hospital and will be here in time to participate on the forensics panel after all."

"A man who has his priorities straight. Do you like children?"

"Sure."

"Well enough to want your own someday?"

Carlo shrugged. "I haven't given it much thought. What about you?"

"I'd like to have at least two. I was an only child and missed always having someone to play with."

"A boy and a girl, the perfect family."

Yes. A baby boy who resembles you would make the dream I kept dreaming last night a reality.
Remembering, she smiled. "I suppose you have it all planned out. Marry the station manager, move to the beach in La Jolla, and set up housekeeping in a ten room house."

"You
don't
like me, do you?"

He shrugged again and she realized she was beginning to despise his careless shrugs.

"What's not to like?" he asked, surprising her. "You have supple curves in all the right places, an attractive face, and great legs. Oh, and great hair. If you'd ever learn when to hold your tongue, you could land the man of your dreams."

You?

She hadn't realized her thoughts were leaning in Carlo's direction, but once he opened the floodgate, a sea of thoughts swamped her.

Him and me.

Allison and Carlo
.
I can picture Allison and Carlo written in the sand.

Not.

Any way she parted the water there would be conflict. She'd never been able to stomach for long a man who thought he was always right. Her station manager was one.

I do admire a man strong enough to defend his values, a man who believes in the sanctity of marriage and home, a man who won't back down when his ethics are questioned.

A man like Carlo?

An observant man determined to keep me safe, come hell or high water?

"Allison? Are you all right? Your eyes are glazed."

"I'm fine. Just wondering what today will bring."

"A peaceful resolution, I hope, and not soon enough to please me."

"What's the matter, Detective? Do you have a lady-friend you're neglecting while you cling to my side?"

He made a strangled noise. "Me? No woman in her right mind would want me around."

Wrong, Carlo. This woman has compiled a long list of your most appealing qualities.

She swallowed the last of her coffee. "Too bad. You'd make some woman the perfect wife."

His coffee strangled him. His eyes watered.
"Wife?"

"Yes. Like most women, you worry too much."

Carlo shoved his chair back from the table. "It's my
job
."

Pulling out her trusty notebook, Allison jotted a note to herself.

"Hey, what are you writing? Let me see." Reaching across the narrow table, he tried to grab her wrist.

He missed.

With a satisfied grin she slipped the notebook beneath her butt and sat on it.

"Think you're smart, don't you? What did you write? Something about this case? Or was it about me?"

"An idea for a new book."

He glowered at her the entire time she refilled her coffee cup. "Want a refill? There's still a little in the carafe," she said.

If looks could kill, I'd be the main attraction at my own wake, my eyes tightly closed while plotting a book about a duty-bound detective who refused to cross the line.

The vision made her grin.

Carlo stood. "Let's go mingle with the crowd. We can get more coffee at the continental breakfast spread."

His suggestion surprised her and she smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

"On second thought, the two of us mingling with a crowd when it isn't absolutely necessary would put you at undue risk."

I should be glad he's determined to keep me safe, but instead I find Carlo's one-track mind irritating.

"Too late now to back down, so cheer up, Detective. The world won't come to a grinding halt if you allow me to escape from this room earlier than planned."

He scowled. "True, but your life may."

After a slight hesitation, she smiled brightly. "No way. Not with LA's finest at my side armed with any number of weapons, some visible, but the most deadly ones not."

He stopped trying not to grin and laid a big one on her. "One day that smart mouth is going to get the best of you."

"If you insist. Would you excuse me a moment? I need to powder my nose and get my laptop. I'll be right back."

She closed the connecting door and uploaded Carlo's image from her phone to her laptop. In a matter of seconds with the help of PowerPoint she had his photograph inserted right where she wanted it.

My day just gets better and better.

*****

A
fter a restroom break Carlo escorted Allison to the Terrace Room where her final presentation would be held and took a seat on the end of the third now. As planned, Susan sat across the aisle and three rows back, while Marsha relaxed against the back wall, conversing with a male writer wearing new-looking jeans.

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