Obsession (Southern Comfort) (33 page)

James turned the bottle in his hands.  “Has Kathleen mentioned anything to you about… some trouble Justin’s been having?”

“No.  But then she’s not one to gossip about people close to her.  Not when it’s really important, anyway.  What trouble?”

James considered that Justin might not be too happy about him spilling all to Kathleen’s brother, but he needed another opinion.  And unfortunately, there was no one else he could think to ask.

“Well, it’s like this…”

Leaning closer, James filled the man in on what had been transpiring, including the shoeprints at both Justin’s
house and at Kathleen’s, as well as the odd coincidences of timing concerning Anthony Corelli’s proximity when a number of those events occurred.

“And you think that Corelli is screwing with your brother because he’s pissed about losing Kathleen.”

“Well, it’s a theory,” James said.  “Justin brushed it off, and he had a few good reasons for doing so, but I also think that he likes the other man, and knowing Justin, he’s feeling just a little bit guilty for what he would see as poaching.”

Declan snorted.

“I know.”  James lifted his bottle in agreement.  “But you see, Justin – despite his massive and unfailingly logical brain – is also ruled by the finer emotions, and notions of fair play.  I’m not so burdened.”

“Speaking as a man who snatched his wife out from under the nose of her pea brain of a fiancé,
I can’t say I’m burdened, either.  You snooze, you lose.”

James nodded.  “Indeed.  However, back to my original question.  What I know of Corelli I’ve gotten from Justin, and I can’t exactly ask Kathleen what she thinks, but I’m sick of sitting around waiting for the next ball to drop.  I want to either rule Corelli out, or else I want to find the man and kick his ass into next week.”

Declan grunted his approval.  Then he considered.  “He and your brother were in here, a while back.  Judging by the black eye Justin was sporting, I gathered Corelli hit him, and there was a decided lack of answering damage on Anthony’s face.”

“Justin tries not to hit.  With his hands, I mean,” James explained.  “
Aside from not being a brawler in general, he, uh, tries to protect them.”  He waggled his fingers.  “Tools of his trade.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Declan leaned against the bar top.  “You want my opinion, I don’t think that Anthony was ever all that serious about Kathleen.  He… cared, sure, but I think that it was more that he was passing time.  They both were.  Corelli isn’t stupid, and anybody with eyes could have seen that there was something between my sister and your brother.  Anybody but Kathleen, anyway.”  He shook his head
in disgust.  “But apparently, she’s finally pulled her head out there as well.  And while I wouldn’t put it past Corelli to protect his territory by means fair or foul, I just don’t see him going to those lengths for my sister.”

James absorbed that, slightly disappointed. 
It was basically what Justin had said.  But if it wasn’t Corelli who’d been messing with Justin, that meant it was somebody else.  If it was Crazy Mandy, and she’d killed herself… well, that would sit on Justin’s conscience for a while, but at least the problem would be over.  But there were some details there – the shoe prints not the least among them – that made James wonder.

If it wasn’t Corelli and it wasn’t Mandy, then who the hell could it be?

“What do you know about this guy that threatened your sister?  Joe… Palmer, I think his name was.  The guy who was doing his sister-in-law?”

Declan’s expression turned grim.  “Aside from the fact that if I ever come across him, he’s going to be missing a few vital organs?” He shook his head.  “After the thing with the doll in her trunk, Kathleen gave all of us a photo and a little rundown so that we could keep an eye out.  And, uh,” Declan cleared
his throat.  “I may have driven by his residence and his place of employment.  To chat.”

James nodded.  “Of course.”

“By the looks of things, the bastard’s skipped town.  Kathleen’s partner and Harding are running down some leads, but…”  He shrugged one shoulder, indicating that he hadn’t been inclined to sit by idly while they did their thing.  “No one has seen or heard from him in over a week.  I also may have talked to his landlady and bought a couple of his coworkers a round at the bar he frequented.”

“Very friendly of you.”

“I’m a friendly guy.”

Sucking in a cheek over that bit of absurdity, James ran this new information through his head.  “Do you happen to know what shoe size the guy wears?”

Another snort.  “Sure, and would you like to know whether he wears boxers or briefs?”  Then Declan crossed his arms as he considered.  “It probably wouldn’t be difficult to find out.”

“No?”

The older man looked James over.  “Can you be charming?”

A slow smile lifted his lips, bringing his dimple into play.  “You’re kidding, right?”

“The landlady,” Declan finally said.  “She’s a cougar.”

James lifted a brow.  “And I’m what?  A gazelle?”

“Depends on how badly you want to see the inside of the man’s apartment.  She indicated to me that, since Palmer was well behind on his rent, she’d be clearing the place out soon if he didn’t show up.  And she asked if I was interested.  In renting.”              

James was starting to get the picture.  “Being new in town and all, I’m going to have to find a place to live.”

“Exactly.”

“And I’d like to have a look at the apartment, even if it isn’t quite empty yet.”

“There you go.”

“How old a cougar are we talking?”

“The facelift says forty, but I’d tack another decade onto that, give or take.”

James tilted his beer to his lips.  “Dinner?”

“If you’re lucky, you’ll escape with that.”

“No problem.”

Declan studied him for a moment.  “I think I like you, Wellington.”

“That’s nice, but I think we’ve already established that I find your figure lacking.
  Hopefully we can still be friends.”

He laughed, a rusty sound that had other people at the bar looking in their direction.  “Here.” He pulled a fresh beer from the tap, slid it in James’ direction.  “This one’s on me.”

“I feel so special.”

Shaking his head, Declan walked off toward the other end of the bar to attend to his other customers.

James smiled as he sipped the fresh drink. 

It had been a gamble, uprooting his life, coming to Charleston.  But h
e thought he was going to like living here just fine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

KATHLEEN
read the text from Anthony again.  Not that she hadn’t understood it the first time.  But she was still undecided as to what to do.

The lab report had finally come back in, and the paint sample taken from Shelley Kinson’s car matched the paint on Kathleen’s car.  Chances were good that it had indeed been her vehicle which attempted to
run Kathleen off the road.

The question that she still couldn’t seem to answer was: why? 

Josh and Mac were apparently running down a lead with regards to the purchase of the doll she’d found in her trunk, and Josh told her that it involved video footage of an as-yet unidentified man.  That in itself didn’t rule out a connection to the Kinson woman, of course, but after looking at it from almost every conceivable angle, Kathleen just couldn’t come up with a motive.  It seemed more likely that the two events were completely unrelated.  The first could have been road rage – opiate induced or otherwise.  The second – it just didn’t click.  The fact that, according to Josh again, Joe Palmer appeared to have left town, made it seem much more likely that he’d been responsible for the doll.  Maybe a parting shot before skipping out.

Anyway, that left her with the question of whether or not she should turn the lab results over to the Mount Pleasant PD and let them pursue it.  If the Kinson woman was prone to that sort of thing, she was a road menace that needed to be dealt with. 

Shooting an answering text back to Anthony indicating that she would pick up the paperwork the next day, he quickly responded with an offer to drop it off at the Mount Pleasant PD himself.  Kathleen hesitated.  It was his old stomping grounds, so to speak, and he’d probably be able to play on their relationship to make it look like he was simply doing a favor for an ex-girlfriend.  Which he was.  But she’d also hired him, and that might not make the MPPD feel too kindly.  If Anthony handled it right – which she trusted him to do – they might avoid ruffling feathers while still giving his former coworkers the information they needed to help build their case.

Having run all that through her head, Kathleen decided that Anthony had a point.  The politics and red tape involved in police work could be a real pain in the ass.

Sounds good.  Thanks,
she sent back.  She held onto her phone as she walked down the sidewalk, fighting the temptation to call, text or send up a damn smoke signal to Justin.  Not being able to hear his voice – let alone see him – was proving to be more difficult than she would have guessed.  A small, petty part of her hoped that he was miserable, as visions of brunettes hanging on him in coffee shops danced through her head.

But she told that petty part to shut up.  If there was one thing she knew about Justin, it was that he was honorable to a fault.  She’d seen plenty of women
all but throw themselves at him over the years, but he didn’t… catch them if he were otherwise involved.

Kathleen dropped her phone into her pocket just as a dark SUV pulled up to the curb.  The passenger door opened.

“Get in,” Justin said.

“Justin.”  Kathleen glanced around, then moved closer.  “What are you doing here?”

“Kidnapping you.  Get in.”

Amusement warred with frustration and a yearning that made her heart skip a beat.  “I can’t,” she said, blowing out a breath as frustration won out.  “A couple more days and I’ll have these loose ends tied up.  I’m sorry, but –”

Her voice trailed off as Justin shoved the gearshift into park, climbed out.  Then he simply picked her up.

“Justin.” 
Surprise and frustration mingled with embarrassment and just a tiny bit of mad.  “You can’t just manhandle me on a public street.  I’m a cop, for God’s sake.”  But she caught a whiff of his scent – soap and man, with an underlying hint of something antiseptic – and she went dizzy for a moment and then found herself planted in the passenger seat.

The door shut in her face.

He walked around, climbed in, and shoved the gearshift back into drive.

“What,” she said to his profile, reaching for a reasonable tone “the hell do you think you’re doing?”
      

“Kidnapping you. I already said that.”

Exasperation made her blink.  “And as I already said, you
can’t –”

“Actually, I just did.”  He maneuvered deftly through downtown traffic, turning onto a side street.

She had no idea what had gotten into him.  “Look, I know you’re probably upset and frustrated right now–”

He snorted.  “You think?”

Kathleen took a moment to compose her thoughts.  Justin’s knuckles were white where they gripped the steering wheel.  Clearly, he’d reached some sort of snapping point.  She wondered what had happened.

“I… wish,” she said slowly “that I could talk to you about this right now.  I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, and I don’t blame you for… whatever it is you’re feeling
.”  He turned into a narrow alley, deserted but for a dumpster at the far end.  “But I can’t talk –”

“Then don’t.”

He stopped the car and when he reached for her, the look on his face had her breath backing up in her throat.  “Justin.”

But then his mouth was on hers, hungry and demanding, and the objections she knew she should be making seemed to be stuck in her throat along with her breath.  He kissed her, tongue invading, lips mastering, until Kathleen forgot where she was.

Forgot
who
she was.

His hands roamed inside the jacket of her suit, pulling up her blouse, exploring beneath it.  Long fingers slid inside the lace cup of her bra, cupping, then lightly pinching.

His breath was hot on her throat, even as the air – warmer than it had been, but still cool – pressed against the windows, which started to fog.

“Just –” the second syllable of his name was cut off by a gasp as his hands began their good work under her skirt.  Her thighs parted of their own accord when his fingers, strong and deft, found their way beneath her hose.  He rubbed, his aim unerring, bringing her to a swift and star
tling climax.

Even as she was still trembling with little shocks, he lifted her, manipulating her clothing and his so that they were disheveled enough to allow for joining.  Then he pushed inside her, a smooth, firm thrust that buried him to the hilt.

“Kathleen.”  Her name escaped his lips on a little groan.  Then he began to move, quick and as deep as their confined quarters would allow. The fingers of one hand dug into her hips, while he yanked her head up with the other.  Looking into his eyes, she was surprised to find herself spiraling closer again.