Provoked (8 page)

              Riley sat down on the same barstool he did two nights before. He’d found this bar while recovering from his gunshot wound. He didn’t want to go to the usual haunt filled with cops. During his recovery, he didn’t feel like a cop. He just wanted to be alone in a place where no one knew him, or more so, knew what happened. The doctor and his lieutenant were right. He didn’t want to talk about Steve Mason. He just wanted to forget about the shooting that took his partner’s life. A few drinks, in his mind, were the best remedy to help him forget. He’d been luckier than his partner that night. His partner had been his shield. The bullet went through his partner and hit him.

              Riley played the night over and over in his head. If he’d went first, instead of Steve, then he’d be dead and Steve would be at this bar playing the night over in his head. They’d met at the academy and lucked out as partners and then were invited to the elite drug operations task force. Riley had known him for ten years. Riley picked up his scotch and downed it. It had been a long day. The case of Beth and the brownstone had reignited his investigative mind, but at the same time it brought back that night. He set the empty glass down on the bar and motioned the bartender for a refill when he heard her voice.

              “Make that two”

              Riley looked to find Basia beside him. Her legs hit him first. They always did. Then her brilliant blue eyes, he’d seen nothing like them before. They mesmerized him and instantly put him in a trance.

              “May I join you?”

              Her accent only made him ache for her more.
Damn this woman!

              “Of course, but I must tell you that I only give up my first name,” he laughed. It appeared the game would become an ongoing joke. He thought his pick-up lines were good. She had him beat.

              Basia laughed and took the seat next to him.

              “Sometimes that game can get you into a...what did you call it...a predicament?”

She picked up her scotch and cheered his.

              “Unless you play the game right,” Riley added and took a swig.

The alcohol numbed his head of the memories about the night of the shooting. The simple action of Basia crossing her long sensuous legs in front of him completely shut down those thoughts. He felt a tinge of tightness in his jeans. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat and then smiled. He knew damn well by her smile, she’d caught his stare on her legs.

              “Is that an offer to continue to play the game?” she asked, as her hand found his thigh. She squeezed and it made him squirm. He looked at her lips as she spoke. She had seduction written across them. She definitely had a strong grip. Her hand slowly moved along the denim. Basia leaned in closer and whispered, “You haven’t answered my question, Detective.”

              He had definitely met his match. She was better with seduction and lines than he.

              “I think your hand just got the answer.”

              She grinned. “Have any scotch at your place?”

He laughed, pulled some cash from his pocket and then tossed it on the bar. Riley followed those legs out of the bar.

              Before Riley’s apartment door shut, Basia pinned him against the wall. Her tongue delved between his lips and into his mouth to explore its depths. The desire in her kiss made him fumble with the door lock. His hands were then free to rip the clothes from her body. He got as far as her top when his passion overcame him. She’d released the zipper of his jeans. Her hand fiercely explored inside the denim. Her moans through their kiss told him she’d found what she’d been searching for. His thumb butted against her lacy bra and he felt her hardened nipple. She bit his tongue when his finger and thumb formed around it. She pushed his jeans over his hips, and then took her hand back to the place she’d already searched and found. He reached down and discovered how hot she was. She was ready for him right then and there. He couldn’t take it anymore. If she held her hand there any longer he was going to explode. One thrust inside her and he knew they were never going to make it to the bedroom. He lifted her skirt and discovered she wasn’t wearing any panties.

              “Still think this is wrong?” Basia asked through heavy breathing. He chuckled against her neck and took in her scent.

              “Not when it feels this good.”

              “We just have to keep it between us.”

Riley moaned in agreement as he took in one last breath of her scent. He slowly moved from her and looked into her eyes. “That’s how the game is played, right?”

He smiled and offered her that scotch. She nodded.

              He fixed them a drink while she wandered into the bathroom in her skirt and bra. They hadn’t even removed all their clothing. The wild sexual burst that happened at his front door only left him amazed with this incredible woman. He hardly knew anything about her. He took a drink and wondered why the hell that thought even crossed his mind. No woman would ever change his confirmed status of bachelorhood. It wasn’t that he’d been hurt, or his parents divorced, or whatever reasons seem to be used to answer this. He just always wanted to be a cop, and he didn’t want to have to worry about not getting home at a set time for a wife and kids. Riley liked being married to his job. His parents had retired to Florida, a few years back, and he was okay with seeing them once a year. He liked no commitments and living his life on the edge. That was just how he liked it. Riley ignored his own line of questioning to himself. Just because he wanted her, it didn’t mean he’d make her his life partner. He told himself to accept the fact that he just liked her touch and didn’t want or need to know anymore. He tried to convince himself she had no effect on him besides a sexual one.

              Basia came out of the bathroom and Riley handed her a glass. She smiled and thanked him. She finished her scotch and set the glass down on his bar.

              “Thanks for the drink, Detective.”

              She picked up her jacket and purse, and then turned.

              “Oh and thanks for the game play.”

              Basia winked. He heard a wicked laugh on her way to the door.

              “Something I said?” he questioned her leaving so suddenly. She turned with her hand on the doorknob.

              “Not at all, I appreciate the few words we do say with no questions asked. And I don’t like goodbyes.”

              “Ta-ta.”

              He laughed after he said it. He remembered his mom always said that because she didn’t like saying goodbye. Basia stood still and then turned to Riley.

              “What did you say?”

              He saw at the horrified look on her face, as if she’d seen a ghost. He figured she had no idea what ta-ta meant. She spoke perfect English, but she probably hadn’t yet learned all the slang words.

              “Ta-ta, was a saying my mom used instead of goodbye. She didn’t like to say goodbye.”

              Riley smiled and Basia nodded. Still a little bewildered, she then opened the door and left. Her confidence only heightened his attraction to her. Along with the ripped body, sensuous long curved legs, and soft lips. This classy beautiful blonde with those intense blue eyes had invaded his bachelorhood.

              Riley stood and stared at the door for a few moments. Part of him hoped she’d come back. Part of him wanted to kick himself in the ass.
Damn woman!
He felt an ache surge through his heart. He actually missed her. All of a sudden, he felt lonely. He’d never felt that way before. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. An anxious feeling soared through his mind.
This isn’t good.
He grabbed the scotch bottle and poured himself another drink. He wondered if he had feelings for this mysterious woman he knew nothing about. “
No,”
he said aloud and figured it was just lust. A cold shower was next on the list.

              Basia stood outside Riley’s apartment for a moment. Her heart had skipped a beat when he said ta-ta. She thought he’d said Tatra, as in the Tatra Mountains. Well, that’s what the Americans called it. It was properly called Tatry in Poland. For a moment, she wondered if he knew anything of her past. They never shared personal information, but he was a cop. If he wanted to search her background, he easily could. She reassured herself, even if he did that, he’d only discover: she came from the town of Zakopane in the Tatra Mountains, her parents had been killed in a car accident, and her husband died in a hiking accident. Basia regained her composure and left Riley’s building. She’d convinced herself again that she did what she had to do and no one would ever know. The past was in the past. Darek’s body had never been found. There was no way they could trace the thallium in his blood, even his body. His death had been reported as a hiking accident, with no mention of the possibility of foul play.

                                                                                    ****

              Riley arrived earlier than usual to his desk at the thirty-seventh precinct. He wanted to continue his research into the case more before his appointment with Dr. Richards. One appointment he needed to keep. He needed to convince her to put him back on the street. After his appointment, he would stop by the diner for coffee. He hoped the new owner would be there. Somebody had to have spoken to Beth before her disappearance, since the last piece of information in the report confirmed she’d left work early due to illness. The information he’d gathered from the medical examiner lingered in his mind. The poison he’d researched gave the flu symptoms. Riley wondered if that had been Beth’s illness. He thought about the other men in the brownstone and if their deaths had been due to foul play. His suspicions of Adam lingered, but he remembered Lynette’s direction to look for suspects that understood the poison and how and where to obtain it. Then Riley wondered how much research Adam did for his book or if he’d made any contacts in the chemistry or forensics fields. Yet, he didn’t seem to be very sociable.

              Riley knew he’d never get second blood tests performed on the two men from the brownstone, unless Beth’s body was found and the poison confirmed. Then he’d have three bodies poisoned from the same building. His gut told him they were all connected. His suspicion remained directed toward Adam. Circumstantial evidence would put Adam as a suspect—three murders in his brownstone, and the fact his book is titled
The Perfect Poison
. But did he have access to the poison? Adam certainly had motive with his strong dislike for his tenants and failed attempts to evict them. All Riley needed now was Beth’s body and some proven evidence or DNA of Adam’s involvement.

              His cell vibrated on the desk. He checked the display and answered, hoping her call was business.

              “Morning, Lynette”

              The display of her name quickly took him back to her last remark. He couldn’t quite figure out whether she’d joked with him, or if her flirtatious ways were an invite for another
one-night stand.
He shook those thoughts quickly.
Nah!
Their jobs kept them in contact and she’d always been a flirt. He hadn’t seen her for the six weeks he was off duty. He’d regretted sleeping with her because of their work relationship. Riley had always been strict about his one-night stands. No woman could work for the force, directly or indirectly. He screwed that stance once again with Basia. One night not knowing where she worked could be forgotten, but any night after wasn’t. Riley never considered her to be a cop. He hadn’t met her at the regular haunt, where cops gathered for a drink. Riley hadn’t visited that bar since the shooting. He’d found a new quiet one, where he could think. It appeared she liked the idea of staying away from cops, too. Once he met Basia, neither one of them got much
thinking
done.

              “Morning, Riley, there’s a body on my table that fits the description you gave me. She was found last night a couple of blocks away from the address you gave me. No ID on the body. I’d say the time of death is about six weeks ago. She might be your missing woman.”

              Riley thanked her and said he’d drop by later. He hoped it was Beth’s body, and Lynette would be able to give him the answers he needed. That would be his first stop after the appointment with the doctor. This time, he didn’t plan to miss it. He reached for his jacket and tucked his phone into his pocket. With his head down he almost ran into her.

              “You’re in early this morning, Detective.”

Her legs hit him as hard as her accent. He lifted his eyes to meet her smile.

              “Lieutenant.”

              He returned the smile. “Off to a doctor’s appointment. She gets pissed when I miss them.” He laughed sarcastically.

              “I can imagine. It’s probably why she assigned you to desk duty.”

Basia raised an eyebrow and then laughed.

              “Probably, I’m not built for desk duty. I need to get back to the street.”

              “I understand completely. Good luck.”

              Basia seductively wet her lips. He knew damn well she wanted him back undercover, so she could continue to see him
under the covers
. He chuckled silently inside. He didn’t have one complaint with that thought. Basia had become an addiction. One he definitely didn’t want to kick anytime soon. Just the thought of her created restriction in his jeans. But that wasn’t the restricted area that worried him. It was his heart and what he’d begun to feel. He only feared what he wouldn’t admit; not even to himself—he’d fallen in love. If he even knew what love meant.

              “Appreciate it.”

              Riley kept his thoughts to himself and remained cool. He tossed his jacket over his shoulder and waved her goodbye.

              “Detective Briggs, you remembered our time?” Dr. Richards questioned Riley as he entered her office. He wasn’t sure whether that was a question filled with gratitude or sarcasm. Either way it didn’t matter to him. He was there.

              “I’ll do whatever it takes to get back on the street.”

He sat down in the chair in front of her desk. She placed her pen down on top of the notepad on her desk.

              “I take it you do not like desk duty at the thirty-seventh,” she continued with remarks that stumped him. Had she asked a question or simply made another sarcastic statement? Riley couldn’t determine. Her tone was soft, yet direct. He figured he’d answer her every time as though she’d asked a question and ignore her sarcasm, if that’s what she’d been using. He wanted to get back on the street.

              “No.”

              There, he thought, a simple answer. He wondered if it were a game to play. He watched her every move and listened for the next question.

              “Care to elaborate?”

              She didn’t even crack a smile. He knew now she wanted to get to the point.

              “Not really. But if it’s what you want so I can get back on the street; sure, why not? After all, that is what you want; right? To talk about how I feel.” He made himself more comfortable in the chair, and then continued, “I don’t like desk duty. I never have. I like the streets. It’s where I’m meant to be. I like the action. Sometimes I don’t follow protocol, but then again not everyone does. I’m not alone there. Steve’s death did hit me hard. Harder than I thought it would. It sucks. I miss him. I wish it hadn’t happened, but I’m thankful it wasn’t me. Don’t get me wrong—I don’t wish it on Steve or anyone else, but I sure as hell don’t wish it for myself.”

              He paused, took a deep breath. Dr. Richards just sat and wrote. She hadn’t tried to interrupt. He looked away momentarily. Riley wondered if this was what she’d been waiting for—to hear him ramble about how he felt. He turned back to meet her somber expression as she set her pen down. He couldn’t read her and actually didn’t care to. Riley tired of her game. Time had run out. This temporary shit of desk duty had gone on long enough. It was time to cut to the chase.

              “So, Doc, I’ll try to put it to you as abruptly as I can. Steve’s dead. I suffered the loss over a few scotches. I’ve recovered and it’s time to move forward. That for me is the street. Sign whatever you have to put me back with the team.”

              Riley then wondered if he should have been a little softer and not come across so strong-willed and demanding. He studied her face for a clue on what was going through her thoughts, but she was good. She kept the same expression and then picked up her pen. She wrote for what seemed like forever to him.

            Finally, she glanced up and spoke, “Thank you, Riley. I wished you had shown up for all your appointments and spoke from your heart, just as you did now. I don’t read minds, you know,” she laughed.

             Her expression had finally changed.
Perhaps she’s human after all
. She pushed her chair back and stood. Slowly, she walked around to Riley and leaned against her desk. She left only inches between them. Enough room for her to cross one leg over the other. Riley’s eyes traveled with her action. She had great legs but not as nice as Basia’s. He tossed that thought aside.
No more work-related one-night stands.
Then he wondered if he’d reminded himself that was the reason or if Basia was the only woman he could think of.

              “And this means?”

Riley stood with only that mere inch or two between them. He felt her hot breath hit him.

              “I have a couple of calls to make and then finish my report. Your lieutenants will receive a copy by tomorrow morning. Then we’ll go from there.” She maneuvered herself from between them and moved back around to her chair.

              “I have to come back here?”

Riley worried she’d keep him on desk duty forever.

              “You’ll know once my report is finished.”

It appeared she wasn’t going to elaborate. Riley turned to leave her office when she asked, “Detective, is there anything else you’d like to share or talk about?”

              Riley laughed, “No. Just want my job back. It’s all I have. All I live for.”

He watched Dr. Richards lean back in her chair. She chewed on the end of the pen in her hand.

              “I hear a tinge of loneliness. Perhaps a balance is needed in your life?”

              “Balance of what?”

              He knew damn well she was about to tell him he should have something or someone besides the job.

              “What’s the old saying? All work and no play…”

              “Oh, I get you. I never said I didn’t play after hours. That department is fine. Actually, lately it’s better than fine.”

              Riley stopped himself before he revealed any further information. The last thing he needed was to put himself and Basia in jeopardy of losing their jobs.

              “There’s someone special in your life, Detective?” Dr. Richards probed. He knew he should have kept quiet.

              “Sort of, but not really,” he chuckled after he realized that was a contradiction.

              “There is someone that could be special, but it’s too new to say anything further. So in answer to your question earlier, Doc, I’m quite fine in that department, and I will admit it is the perfect balance, just the way it is.”

              Dr. Richards smiled.

              “I’m glad to hear things are going well for you, Detective.”

              She handed him a card.

              “If at any time you need or want to talk about either balance, call this number. I’ll have my report ready for tomorrow.”

              Riley figured it was safe to get the heck out of there. He thanked her and slipped the card into his jacket pocket. He smiled after he closed her door. That was easier than he thought. He felt certain she’d sign the report to allow him to return to the streets.

              His next stop on the agenda—the morgue to confirm the body found was Beth.

              Riley knocked lightly on the big grey door as he pushed it open. It swung a few times before it stopped. It desperately needed to be oiled. Lynette looked up from the body she’d been working on and removed her gloves.

              “Detective, it’s nice to see you again.”

              Riley nodded. He kept it professional. The last thing he needed was for Lynette to cling onto him. He pointed to the table she’d left.

              “Is that the woman?”

              Lynette nodded and turned toward the table.

              “I’m preparing her for an autopsy.”

              “Today, I hope?” Riley questioned. Lynette nodded.

              “I’ll run a second line of blood tests to determine if there’s any poison in her system. But even if it’s found, I’d say the cause of death comes from the knife wounds. She’s beaten up pretty badly, too.”