Snapped (4 page)

She gave up trying to picture him without
clothes because it just made her want him and that just made her frustrated
because she couldn't have him. He'd made his stance pretty clear.

"I bet he's got a girlfriend,"
she said to Oscar. The cat lifted his head, blinked at her twice as if she was
nuts and closed his eyes when she continued scratching below his chin. Great,
even the cat thought she was a fool for thinking about one man this long. It
was slightly worrying. She'd never focused so much on a single man before. Once,
in high school, she'd had a crush for an entire year on Danny Molinski but
after he snubbed her, she'd decided it hadn't been worth it and had never put
so much energy into an infatuation ever again. She'd been rewarded with an
in-tact heart so far, unlike many of her friends who'd had theirs broken more
than once by the Moron of the Month a.k.a. their boyfriends.

Lucy sighed and shoved aside thoughts of
Nick,
again
. She pushed the covers back and got out of bed, much to
Oscar's annoyance, and threw her dressing gown around her shoulders. She did
the morning hunt for her slippers which somehow never managed to be in the
place she thought she'd left them, and by the time she found them she really
needed to pee.

After breakfast, Lucy locked up her
apartment and slung her small backpack over her shoulders. She jogged down her
street until she reached Bridge Road then turned left. She ran past cafes and
bargain outlets until she reached the dingy shop belonging to Stacy the film
developer. The bell attached to the front door dinged when Lucy entered but it
took several minutes before the short, blunt-looking woman appeared from the
back room. She wore her standard Gothic outfit—long black skirt and dark purple
smock-like shirt to match the purple streaks in her hair.

"Hey, Lucy, how are you my
sweet?" Stacy came round the grimy counter and pecked Lucy on the cheek. Considering
Lucy was her best customer, it was no wonder she treated her like a best
friend. With the popularity of digital cameras, few people needed film
developed anymore, but Lucy's old equipment and need for close-ups required
good quality printing and she just didn't have enough money to afford a state
of the art printer. Besides, she liked seeing Stacy.

"Okay for someone whose business is
relying on these photos turning out." She retrieved the roll of film from
her backpack and handed it to Stacy.

"The last lot were no good?" Stacy
shook her head and purple bangs fell into her brown eyes. "Told you so. You
didn't have the right light."

Lucy shrugged one shoulder, not exactly
agreeing. What had gone wrong? She'd done this hundreds of times. Maybe there
was something wrong with the camera. She studied Stacy's collection of
expensive equipment and sighed. She couldn't afford any of it.

"Won't be long." Stacy's smile
lightened up her broad Slavic features so that they were almost pretty.

"Fine. I'll keep jogging. Be back in
fifteen."

Lucy opened the door while Stacy bustled
into the back room with a wave. Fifteen minutes later, Lucy returned. The room
was too hot and she swiped a trickle of sweat from her temple. Not wanting to
lose her rhythm, she paced the tiny shop floor until Stacy appeared, clutching
an envelope.

"I don't think you'll be happy with
these either," she said.

Lucy took the envelope and sifted through
the photos. Same story as last time. None were clear enough.

"Damn."

"Maybe you need a new camera,"
said Stacy.

"Maybe I need a new job."

***

Nick poured over a table-full of evidence
with two of the force's homicide detectives. The investigation had just become
a joint operation between the Major Fraud and Homicide squads with Nick in
charge. But so far the team had come up with nothing. They checked the
surveillance records from the previous night and Nick had watched the apartment
complex himself this morning. It was always difficult to separate the residents
and the unknowns, but they had half a dozen potential murderers, including
Mollino's girlfriend. She was shaping up to be the most likely suspect.

Except they didn't have a clear ID. Surveillance
shots of her leaving the building didn't show her face and none of the
residents who were questioned could identify her fully. She was blonde,
twenty-something and well-endowed. That's it. Could be half the women in Morethorn.

Nick called on Mrs. Mollino to break the
news to her. Janet, an attractive thirty-five year old brunette, didn't shed a
tear for her husband. In fact, she poured herself a glass of champagne and
raised it to the portrait of a smiling, young Mollino above the fireplace. She
didn't know who his girlfriend was either.

"But I hired a private
investigator," she said in her lilting, English accent. "Perhaps she
has some photographs. I have her card somewhere." She stood but Nick put
up a hand to stop her.

"It's okay, Mrs. Mollino, we know
who she is." He silently cursed his luck as he and Dave crunched over the
mansion's driveway to the Commodore.

"Now what?" asked Dave as they
drove down Bellerae Road.

Nick hated what he was about to say but
he had to say it. "You know what," said Nick, punctuating the
sentence with a curse. He'd give anything to avoid the meeting he now had to
have. It looked like his apology was about to happen in person after all. Damn.

Dave glanced at him and grinned. "Juicy
Lucy it is then."

"Her name's Lucy Hudson." Nick
didn't know why he defended her but he felt compelled to. He hated that
ridiculous moniker. "She lives in Richmond."

Dave cut across a lane and turned right
into Punt Road. "I know."

Of course he did.

***

The cool shower soothed Lucy's hot skin
and self-directed anger. She couldn't believe she'd fucked up yet again. It
wasn't like her. There had to be something wrong with the camera. She needed to
get it checked and that meant visiting Matt, a guy she'd dated a while ago who
owned a camera shop in the city and had sold her the equipment. She turned off
the faucets and stepped out of the shower, wrapping the soft yellow towel
around her body. He'd probably want to see more of her than she was willing to
show this time. She sighed as she ruffled her hair with a second towel. She'd
just have to tell him she was in a relationship and couldn't skip out to the
back room with him. Whether he would believe her or not remained to be seen.

In a way she wasn't lying. She felt like
she was in a relationship because she couldn't stop thinking about one man. One
hot, sexy man who was definitely not interested in a relationship with her, or
anything else.

Pity.

The front door buzzer sounded and she
wrapped the towel tighter and padded across the floorboards to the intercom.

"Yeah?"

"Detectives Nick Dante and Dave
O'Connor, Major Fraud. Can we come up?"

Lucy stared at the buzzer. What the hell
was he doing here? With his partner? He didn't need the cavalry to scare her
off Mollino. Then again, in the apartment last night he'd seemed keen to do
more than warn her away, so maybe he needed reinforcements so he wouldn't
succumb to the
hussy
.

"Lucy? Open the door."

She blinked rapidly and pressed the
button to unlock the door downstairs then opened her door so they could enter
without knocking. She quickly checked her image in the hall mirror and
grimaced. She wore no makeup and her hair stuck out at angles—definitely not
one of her better days. She tried to flatten her hair, but it stubbornly
disobeyed and she gave in as she heard footsteps on the landing.

Nick Dante and a short redhead she
vaguely recognized stepped inside. The partner scanned her entrance foyer and
peered past her shoulder at her tiny apartment before settling his gaze on the
swell of her breasts above the towel. Nick's dark gaze went straight to her face
and grazed down her towel-clad body as if memorizing every inch of her flesh. It
was unnerving but kind of thrilling when his tongue flicked out, skimming his
upper lip. Eventually he focused on her face, his expression passive.

His partner smirked without looking up
and Lucy felt the tips of her ears flush but she refused to cover herself. Let
him stare. It was the closest he'd ever get to seeing that much of her.

She frowned. Now where had this new
attitude come from? This six month dry spell wouldn't end if she didn't cast
her net wider than Nick Dante.

"So what have I done now?" she
asked, speaking to Nick. She was going to ignore the stocky redhead for as long
as possible. It was rude to stare.

"Nothing," said Nick, "as
far as we know." He looked away and studied the entrance hall. She led
them into her living room and indicated they should sit on her couch. They did,
both perching on the edge awkwardly as if ready to spring up at the slightest
sound.

"Coffee?" she said, determined
not to let Nick's sudden presence unnerve her to the point where she let him
see it. She could do the perfect hostess thing if she put her mind to it.

"Sure," said Dave.

"No," said Nick, glaring at his
partner. "We're here on business."

She turned a chair from her small dining
table around and sat on it, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap.
Although the bar heater in the lounge was on, it didn't throw out much heat. But
Lucy wasn't cold, despite wearing only a towel. Just looking into the warm
brown eyes of Nick Dante was enough to heat her blood.

"Business?" She raised one brow
and studied him, looking for any sign of imperfection, anything that would turn
her off him. But he was one hell of a handsome man with a powerful frame, long
legs and hard, rugged face. Even the tear-drop scar beneath brooding, dark eyes
added to the Medieval knight effect he had going.

"We need your help."

Now there was a surprise. She raised one
brow.

"Mollino's dead. Murdered."

Lucy's jaw dropped, then she remembered
she was supposed to be composed and in control and snapped it shut. "How?"

Nick leaned back and expelled a breath. He
opened his mouth to say something but Dave butted in. "If we knew that we
wouldn't need your help."

Lucy stiffened. "Sniping at me isn't
going to get you want you want."

Dave smirked, one side of his top lip
curling up. "Then what would,
Lucy
?" He sneered out her name.

She stood, not able to stay still any
longer and listen to this man's attitude. Obviously Nick wasn't playing good
cop to his partner's bad one because he sat back passively, saying nothing. A
good cop would have shut his partner up by now. Great, she was being confronted
by two men who both wanted to be the bad one.

"How about please?" She strode
past them and into her bedroom, slamming the door. She wanted to throw
something but refrained and ripped the towel off instead. She put on a black
top with shoestring straps and a pair of black pants over a thong. It would be
much easier to put on her red slippers with the big bunny heads on the toes but
she thought it might ruin her image so she put on lace up black boots instead.

When she returned, Dave still sat in the
couch, his fingers drumming against his leg. Nick stood, studying the books in
her six-foot bookcase, one big hand resting on the top shelf. He looked up as
she approached. His eyes skimmed across her bare shoulders to her braless
breasts. She refused to cross her arms.

"Maybe the towel was better,"
he said so quietly she barely heard him.

"Tell me how Mollino died," she
said, staying at arms' length from him because any closer and she was afraid
she'd be sucked in by his force field.

Nick gave her a run down of the morning's
events and their lack of evidence. "So we need your help. Those photos—"

"Didn't turn out." She shook
her head. "I think there's something wrong with my camera."

Nick swore.

"How about an eye-witness account,
then," said Dave standing behind her, invading her personal space. She
took a step closer to Nick to get away.

"Sure," she said, looking up at
Nick. She was right about the force field—she was well and truly sucked in. He
stared down at her, eyes in the shadows of his thick lashes, a muscle working
in his left cheek. The intensity of his stare, the stillness of his body and
his close proximity sent her nerves into red alert.

"But I'll only give it to Nick. Alone,"
she added with a smile. She wasn't going to talk in front of that little jerk
O'Connor. She remembered him now. A year ago he'd tried to intimidate her into
his bed after he warned her away from a witness they were protecting. She'd
refused, instantly disliking him, and he'd given her a hard time for weeks
afterwards. Later, she heard the rumors he'd spread down at the police station
but she didn't care. None of it was true. Not where he was concerned anyway,
although she couldn't say that for all of the rumors.

"No way," said Dave.

"Get out," said Nick and Dave
snorted, stomping to the door.