Renee Simons Special Edition (25 page)

"Look at her. Look at what being a target has done to her already - thin as a rail, circles under her eyes. She's on the edge. Any more of this and she'll go over. Can't you find some other way to expose your bad apple?"

Torres shook his head. "I've got six guys to check out. The only way I know is to do business as usual, with me watching the action. And she has to be out front, as usual."

"Damn it, Lieutenant," Ethan said. "I don't like you playing fast and loose with her life. Your men are your problem. I'll not have her put in further danger...or torment."

"Is this a two-person conversation, or can anyone join in?”
Jordan
asked.

"Sorry," Ethan said. Like Conlon, Torres stared at her as though she’d spoken in a foreign language.

"I appreciate your concern, but there's really no other way." She smiled at Ethan and shrugged.

He turned to Torres. "If you insist on going ahead with this, I want to be in on it as well."

Torres gave him a small smile. "Don't you trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone," Ethan replied. "Not where
Jordan
’s safety is concerned."

The lieutenant nodded. "All right. You can come along."

* * *

At three in the morning, Ethan was still wide awake. When the knock sounded on his door, he answered immediately, quickly pulling up the sheet to cover himself as
Jordan
stepped into the room. Wordlessly, she closed the door and moved to the window seat.

"I couldn't sleep," she explained in a throaty whisper.

"I know the feeling," he commented dryly. "I'm having the same problem."

"Are you?" Her voice sounded suddenly tense. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. "Because of what happened this afternoon? At the meeting?"

"Partly."

"I know what I had to say, what they made me say, was hard to take. I would understand if you never wanted to have anything to do with me."

The darkness hid her expression, but Ethan could hear the yearning, and the fear. "My God,
Jordan
, that's the farthest thing from my mind." He reached out a hand. "Sit beside me."

She came and sat down on his bed. Her weight shifted the sheet, drawing her eyes to his bare chest and flat stomach. "I shouldn't be here," she said and rose.

He took her hand. "Do you want to be here?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Then stay."

He pulled her to him. With a sigh she nestled her head against his shoulder and rested her hand lightly on the mat of silky hair that covered him. He shifted position so she lay on her back with her head cradled on his arm.

"Do you have any idea how remarkable you are?" he asked softly.

"Remarkable? Not me."

"Despite everything that's happened in your life, you still have the courage to take risks, to let yourself love." He pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I admire you for doing something that I never could. I closed myself off - from everyone."

"I did, too, until you came into my life." She reached up and touched his cheek. Her fingers tingled at the touch of stubble. "You made loving possible."

Her hands slipped around his waist and moved slowly up his back, tantalizing with their feathery softness, setting his flesh to quivering wherever they touched. Passing down the ridge of his spine and beneath the sheet, they settled finally at his hips, where with gentle insistence she pressed him against her. He allowed his weight to settle easily on her, watching her eyes for the first sign of fear or resistance. He saw only the moonlight glittering in their depths.

Jordan
sensed his reluctance to rush her. A familiar warmth blossomed deep within her, fed as much by her gratitude and trust as her physical need for him, a need that had grown steadily since their night on the
Cape
...that had brought her to his room in the middle of the night. She felt the heat of his body through her shirt and wanted to be free of it. She reached between them to open the buttons. His hand came around to help, easing the garment off her shoulders and pulling it from beneath her to toss it aside.

Ethan's gaze traveled to her breasts. She felt its silky fire on her skin. Her body responded to a look as palpable as his touch. With a shyness barely overruled by her curiosity,
Jordan
looked at his body as he did hers.

Set in stark relief by the moonlight from the window, his frame seemed all lean, hard angles, barely tempered by the knotted cords of his muscles and softened only slightly by the fine blond hair that covered his chest and arms. His bright blue eyes were black in the darkness, the lids heavy with passion. Dampness glistened at his temple. She touched his cheek, fixing his eyes on hers. Reaching between them, she touched him softly but purposefully, then put her arms around him and pulled him close once more, letting him know that she remembered the pleasures they'd shared.

"Please make love with me, Ethan," she whispered. "Take me back to that night."

She arched her body toward him. His arms closed around her. His lips found hers in the moon-frosted darkness and with gentle passion, he welcomed her back to that special place he had made for her, where no fears intruded, where only loving, giving and sharing existed, where the past was only a distant memory.

Later, they lay in each other's arms, watching the sky go from darkness to the beginning of light. An early morning breeze swept through the window, caressing their bare bodies with its gentle coolness, drying the moisture that still misted their skin. It skimmed over two pairs of legs tangled from lovemaking, two pairs of arms folded around each other as they lay like spoons, with
Jordan
’s back cradled against Ethan's hard chest and his chin tucked against her shoulder. When traces of mauve streaked the sky, she stirred.

"I'd better be going - before Mrs. Willis is up and about."

Regretfully, Ethan released her and she sat upright. He watched as she swept her hair back from her face, tying it in a makeshift knot at the back of her neck. The unstudied gesture brought into sharp relief her slim waist and gently rounded hips and the taut outlines of her breasts. His hands ached to touch her as he had during their lovemaking. His lips remembered their texture and taste. His eyes swept upward and met her gaze.

"You're beautiful," he whispered softly.

She smiled. "I'm not, but I’m pleased you think so."

“That’s new,” he said with a grin.

She pointed to the night stand. "Hand me the shirt?"

"I know I shouldn't say this, but I wish you didn't have to go."

She kissed the tip of his nose. "Why shouldn't you say it?"

He looked into her eyes. "I'm trying to give you the time you need, and the space. So you won't feel pressured."

She walked to the door. "Maybe there's no need for all that space anymore. Maybe I'd rather have the company."

Ethan and Lieutenant Torres were always near as
Jordan
kept her appointments. Although pleased to have them nearby, she avoided acknowledging their presence. She stayed out in public until five or five-thirty in the afternoon, giving Volpe and his people ample opportunity to make a move against her. Nothing happened.

She and Drew agreed to make another appearance on the Curt Fellows show. They drove to the studio together and parked on the street with O'Keefe and Meade on surveillance. Torres and Ethan sat in another car across the street, keeping their faces averted to avoid detection.

In the studio, Fellows directed most of his questions to Drew, who'd been told to answer truthfully but in generalities to protect the prosecution's case.

The audience seemed interested in
Jordan
’s comings and goings. She fielded questions about what a researcher actually did, about her nonexistent love life, and about how life had been since her first appearance. One motherly type offered to cook dinner for her. She looked too skinny, the woman said, and mustn't be eating right now that she led such a busy life as a celebrity.
Jordan
thanked her and promised to take better care of herself, to slow down a little now that the trial loomed just ahead.

Out on the street, Ethan and Torres sat in their car, talking about the coming trial. About a half-hour before the show was due to end, O'Keefe left his vehicle and walked toward an all-night diner, to bring back coffee, Torres guessed. When the sergeant disappeared inside, his partner also got out and went to
Jordan
’s sports car, circling around it several times as if inspecting it. He disappeared around the passenger side, but seconds later, Ethan tapped Torres on the arm and pointed.

"Look there," he said, "under the car. Is that the bloke?"

They could just make out the mass of the man's body in the darkness. "Yeah. What the hell is he doing?" Torres muttered.

"You'd know that better than I. Is it usual practice to inspect the undercarriage of a vehicle like that?"

"Only if you have reason to suspect tampering."

"Or if you were doing the tampering yourself..."

"Exactly," Torres admitted reluctantly.

"You don't suppose O'Keefe's in on it, do you?"

"You like him, don't you?"

"I'd hate to think he's part of this mess."

Torres glanced across the street and spotted the officer exiting the eatery. "Well, you're about to find out how good a judge of character you are. Me, too." He nodded in O'Keefe's direction. "Here he comes."

The police officer approached his vehicle, looked inside and left his purchase on the hood. He went to the lobby of the television studio, looked around and then came back out, turning to examine the empty street. Finally, as if he didn't know where else to search, he walked toward
Jordan
’s car. He bent to check out the interior. Just then, his partner slid out from under the car, and the two men confronted each other.

Nothing of their conversation carried to Torres and Ethan but a heated discussion obviously was taking place. Finally, O'Keefe crawled beneath the car. He emerged moments later and went to their vehicle, reaching inside for the hand-set. His partner simply stood his ground.

"C'mon," Torres ordered. He and Ethan crossed the street. Torres approached O'Keefe and the man turned to him, his face a mask of disappointment.

"He tampered with the steering, Lieutenant. Burned nearly through one of the tie rods with some kind of heavy duty acid. The first turn they made, they'd have lost control and wrapped themselves around a pole or something." He shook his head. "Ten years we've been partners. I can't believe it."

Torres patted him on the shoulder and walked over to Meade, who waited where his partner had left him. "Were you responsible for the dolls, too?" he asked softly. The man nodded. Torres held out a hand. With tears rolling down his cheeks, Meade surrendered his gun and badge. The Lieutenant handed Ethan a set of keys.

"You wait for Ms. VanDien and your brother and take them home in the vehicle we've been using. I'll go to the station house with my men and send a tow truck for the MG."

"See you in the morning?" Ethan asked, and Torres nodded silently.

Ethan moved the car to a spot in front of the studio and waited for Drew and Jordan to come out. They finally showed, surrounded by people who seemed determined to make contact. Some asked for autographs, some had questions, others words of encouragement. The total effect was that of a protective shell with
Jordan
at its center and Drew at her side to provide additional support.

Ethan found himself envying his brother at that moment, in a position he would have assumed gladly but for the fact that he knew she would see it as interference. He found it difficult to accept the long lead she insisted upon, when he wanted only to hold her close and protect her from the danger she seemed to court, a danger that for some strange reason now nagged at a corner of his subconscious.

He searched the street, trying to trace the cause of his uneasy feeling. When he saw nothing out of the way, he examined the building facades looming over them. A movement in a first-floor window caught his eye. It could be nothing more than a curious neighbor watching the excitement, he thought, but he concentrated on the shadowed figure and waited. On the edge of his vision, he saw the crowd separate so Jordan and Drew could make their way to the curb. Just then light bounced off something metallic in the open window, like moonlight reflected on a rifle barrel.

Heart pounding, pulse racing madly, Ethan slid across the seat of the car, rammed the passenger door open and moved swiftly to intercept
Jordan
and Drew. He reached them and spread his arms like a shield. A dull report sounded above the low surprised murmur of the crowd and something sharp and hot and excruciating slammed into his back. He staggered under the impact and the three of them went down, scattering the crowd like leaves before an autumn wind.

People ran, pushing and shoving, trying to escape. Someone screamed, a male voice shouted and a babble of voices rose and fell in the space above him, but nothing made any sense as he struggled to draw breath around a deep and pervading pain.