Vital Signs (9 page)

“Don’t know that. My police officer friend couldn’t find him without tapping the database and alerting everyone to what he was searching for. I still think it’s important that we keep this under wraps.”

“Who else knows about the mother?”

Chief leveled his gaze at Corey. “You and me.”

“Good. Keep it that way. I’m going to find the mom and talk to her. Right now.”

Chief swung his gaze away but held up a slip of paper. “Be careful, Corey.”

“You know it.” In a flash he was out of his chair, the paper in hand, and was leaving the office. As he strode through the firehouse, several of his buddies called greetings to him. He gave a wave or a nod but didn’t stop to speak. This information was too important.

From the reports he’d been scouring over this morning, he’d learned the arsonist used a compound that burned hotter and for longer. The minor from the bad section of town had turned into a man who’d purchased a bit of that compound a few months back. Why?

The question mark and one-time purchase had alerted Corey, which had led to him searching to locate him. Since he’d been a minor, his records were sealed, but Corey had found a note in a past report connecting him with a fire. The report only mentioned he’d been questioned and released—never charged.

Unless he had been but it was concealed because he’d been underage at the time of the crime.

As Corey hit the fresh air, he detected the salty tang of the ocean not far away. As soon as Sarita had some free time, he’d like to take her to the shore. Stop at a good restaurant along the coast and share a bottle of wine and some seafood. And maybe find a secluded cove where he could ravish her.

His balls clenched tight at the thought. Damn, what had she done to him? He’d spent weeks fighting his urges and now he could hardly rein them in. If he had his way, he’d bend her over every rock and take her up against every cliff.

In the back of his mind, a voice kept telling him that this might be the one—the woman he’d always searched for. Just as he’d begun to believe there wasn’t a mate out there for him and he was destined to be alone forever, a dark-haired angel had looked into his eyes.

But it was her tenacity that spurred him to believe she was perfect for him. They shared the same drive to work hard and get what they wanted. And in the sheets, her dark cravings were exactly like his.

His cock was half hard by the time he got into his car. The slip of paper was wadded in his palm, and he smoothed the crinkles to read the address.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he leaned onto one hip to remove it. When he stared at the screen and saw Sarita’s name, his chest tightened with happiness.

Just getting off my long shift. I was thinking I’d swing by your place.

Damn. Just what he wanted but didn’t have time for right now. If she showed up at his apartment, they’d spend all day in bed. Kissing, fingering her, licking her pussy, fucking her hard, and then watching her sleep… Struggling, he pressed his lips into a tight line.

I’d love that, angel. Get some rest and I’ll come to you tonight.

You’re turning me down?

No. I have something to do.

Several seconds passed before his phone rang. He answered, and her accent rang in his ear. “What are you up to, Corey?”

God, he loved how she rolled the R in his name. His cock hardened all the way, and he shifted to make more room in his jeans for it.

“Just a little business.”

“About the arsonist?” she asked.

He pushed out a breath. No point in lying—she’d see through his words. Besides, he didn’t want to start a relationship with her by lying even about classified stuff in his job. Nobody was more trustworthy than Sarita.

Relationship.
The thought of having her in his life on a more permanent basis sent a warm pang through his system.

“I found a lead, Sarita. I’m going to check it out.”

“Is it dangerous?” Her concern touched him deeply. All he wanted was to wrap her in his arms and let the world slip away. But he had to finish this asshole who’d nearly killed him, not to mention destroyed the lives of so many others.

“I’m going to meet the mother of a suspect.”

“That doesn’t sound good, Corey. Please tell me you have backup.”

“I don’t need backup. I’m not going in there to accuse anybody of a crime.”

“No, but a mother will be suspicious if you’re asking about her son. Please don’t go alone.”

“Sarita, it’s fine. I’m getting a little annoyed with your coddling.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Coddling? Is that what you call me wrapping my lips around your cock? Because I don’t remember any coddling.”

He shuddered. “I was referring to you showing up at my apartment and making me rest when I didn’t need to.”

She chuckled. “Need to or want to? What I remember is a stubborn man who wouldn’t let his body heal. You needed a firm hand.”

“I’ll give you a firm hand.” His low, gritty oath echoed through his own body. What he wouldn’t give to warm her fine little ass with several hard smacks before driving into her tight pussy.

“Corey…” Her breathy tone did nothing to settle him. He started the car and put it into gear before he changed his mind and went to her place. “I’m standing outside the coffee shop on Fourth Avenue. Will you at least swing by and let me see you first?”

While his heart stuttered to think she was attached to him in this way, he was also a little hesitant. If she distracted him, he’d never find the woman he needed to and maybe the arsonist would kill someone today. Someone who might have been spared if he hadn’t gotten off course.

“I just want to see you for a minute. I know you’re driving. I hear the traffic around you.”

Damn, she was a persuasive little minx. He pushed out a sigh. “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

As he navigated traffic, he couldn’t help but acknowledge his rising excitement. In a few minutes he’d have her in his arms, her soft breasts against him and her lips crushed beneath his.

When he pulled up to the curb before the coffee shop, though, he didn’t spot her. He started to get out when the passenger door opened and she hopped in.

He opened his mouth to say she looked damn gorgeous, hair disheveled, in her work uniform. But she put her hand on the gearshift. “Drive, Corey. I’m going with you.”

“What? Hell no.” He glared at her.

“Then I guess you aren’t going to solve your case.”

He leveled her in his stare. “If you think you’re coming along, you’re crazy.”

“Too dangerous?” She arched a brow, and he knew exactly what she was getting at. If it was too dangerous for her, he needed backup.

“No, but you aren’t part of this. You do your job, I’ll do mine.” When he reached across her body to grab the door handle, she caught his head and pressed it against her fragrant breasts. At some point she’d unbuttoned the top two buttons of her work blouse and her warm brown skin was exposed. Luring him.

“Dammit, Sarita. You’re not playing fair.”

She arched against his mouth. With a growl, he spattered her flesh with kisses. “You know I’m right about this. Let me come along.” She sucked in a harsh breath as he clamped his lips over her nipple through her top and bra.

“I’ll let you come—but only if you go home right now.” He lifted his head and speared her in his gaze. “And don’t you dare touch your pussy while I’m gone.”

“Or what?” Her eyes hooded.

“Or you’re going to learn firsthand what the word deprivation means.” He popped her door open.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, her eyes dark and clear with intent. “If you think I’m getting out of this car, you’re crazy.”

He straightened with a growl. “You’re not coming with me.”

“If it isn’t dangerous, why not? I’m good at talking to people, Corey. I might be able to find out something to help you.”

He studied her. She had a point—she
was
good at talking to people. And soothing them too. She’d managed to make him compliant even at his most ornery.

With her uniform top molded to her rounded breasts, she was sexy as hell. But she was also conspicuous. Sighing, he said, “Fine. But we’ll swing by your place and get you some street clothes first. We can’t have you showing up in that and scaring his mother into thinking something’s happened to her son. We need answers but we can’t make it sound like an interrogation.”

“Have you done this before?” she asked, snapping her seatbelt into place.

He chuckled. “I’m flying blind, baby.”

“But at least you’ll have a wingman. Let’s go.”

»»•««

When Corey cut the engine in front of her apartment building, she threw him a look. “Aren’t you coming in?”

His gaze roamed over her for a long second before he tore it away. “If I come up there, we’ll never leave your bed. Dammit, woman, make it quick.” He lifted his jaw to indicate the door.

Hiding her smile, she got out and went into her building. Once in her apartment, she peeled off her work clothes and walked in bra and panties to the kitchen. There she chugged half a bottle of caffeinated soda to give her a second wind. Then she went into her bedroom.

The lingering scents of Corey hardened her nipples. For two nights she’d fallen asleep to the smell of him on her sheets. After two days without his touch, she was feeling a little desperate. But first, they had to complete this mission of his.

As she spritzed herself in body spray and donned a fresh set of clothes, her mind worked over what was to come once they found this woman. Sarita had never done the spy thing, but she had a feeling Corey needed her at his side.

At least to keep him out of trouble. She shoved her feet into boots and hurried out of the building. When she reached the car, she found him sitting with his hand plastered over his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she slid into the seat.

“Did you have to wear that? Jesus, how am I supposed to keep my hands off you?”

She glanced down at her jeans and simple tank top, a rope of need pulling taut between her pussy and breasts. “Nobody’s asking you to.”

He groaned and put the car into drive.

While he took her to an address in a part of town that looked all too much like what she’d come from, she sat up straighter and leaned toward the windshield, certain she’d catch a glimpse of some of her old friends.

“I didn’t realize there was a part of the city like this.”

“Yeah, I’d like to say I think the arsonist comes from a middle-class family, but unfortunately that asshole was a copycat.”

“But you believe the real arsonist might have come from this background?”

“Maybe. I’m not certain, which is why we’re going to question Mrs. Allancamp.” He peered out at the house numbers until he slowed before a ramshackle house. She and Corey exchanged a look.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “What’s the story? Why are we here?”

“Just follow my lead.” He got out and she followed, trying to keep her focus off his fine ass in fitted jeans and the way his strong arms swung easily at his sides.

When they reached the sagging front porch, Corey tossed her a look. “If anything bad happens, you run for the car and go, Sarita.”

She refused to agree to such a thing but grasped his fingers for a momentary squeeze. He knocked on the door several times before they heard life within. A woman cracked the door and peeked out. Her eyes were bloodshot, her lips a network of wrinkles, probably from smoking.

Or sucking on a bong.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“Hi, Mrs. Allancamp. Do you remember me?” Corey’s enthusiastic tone had the woman cracking the door farther. She looked him over and shook her head. “I was one of the counselors at Heads’ Up.”

She stared at him blankly for so long that Sarita feared she’d seen through Corey’s guise.

“The summer camp where Mitchell went as a teen?” Corey refreshed her memory.

“Oh. Yes, I remember,” she said.

“I was wondering if you’ve seen Mitch. I have a job I think he may be interested in. Could we come inside?”

She glanced behind her as if assessing how wise that would be but finally swung back and opened the door to them.

Sarita held out her hand as she passed Mrs. Allancamp. “I’m Sarita. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah.” The woman’s grunt didn’t surprise Sarita. She obviously didn’t like her space invaded.

When they were inside the grungy, unkempt house, Corey took up his plot once more. Offering his most dazzling smile, he said, “Mitch was always good at science, right?”

“Umm, I think so. I can’t remember much about those days to be honest. I worked two jobs to feed him and keep a roof over our heads.”

Or drugs in your veins.
Sarita noted the track marks of a lifelong user on her arms. Poor Mitchell. If he’d come from a mess life, no wonder he’d fallen onto a bad course.

“You worked hard. I remember Mitchell saying so, Mrs. Allancamp.” Corey nodded in an affable manner.

She arched a brow. “Really? I never thought he said a good thing about me. He was always in trouble. Stealing, setting fires. Then the murder charge.”

An icy sliver zigzagged down Sarita’s spine. She fought to keep her expression even as though they’d known all along about the murder charge. Mrs. Allancamp gave her a sidelong look and Sarita nodded as if in sympathy of what the poor family had gone through.

“Ah yes, a rough time for you both,” Corey said.

“Rough? It was hell. Cops coming here day and night to interrogate me. They trashed the house looking for evidence. Didn’t find any to convict him, but…” She shut off her verbal tirade as if afraid she’d said too much. “What do you want from me? I haven’t seen Mitch in months. He had that job at the pool place and brought me some money so I didn’t lose the house. Then he lost the job because he’s a worthless ass just like his father.”

Sarita sensed rather than saw the tension in Corey. His shoulders stiffened and she noted a tightening of his jaw.

“I’m sorry to hear of your troubles, ma’am. I only wanted to see if you’d share Mitch’s location with me so I can tell him about this job. It’s a new program teaching children science. Doing experiments, that sort of thing.” He gave her a dazzling white smile.