Wrapped in Flame (12 page)

“Am I staying the night?” he asked.

Erica draped her leg over his. “I would really like that. If you didn’t bring them, I think I can even manage to find a new toothbrush, possibly even an unused razor.”

He tried not to cheer at the small victory. “I do have both in my duffel. In a pinch, though, I have been known to use my finger as a toothbrush.”

She pulled back a tad, confusion knotting her forehead. He jumped in before she had a chance to overthink it.

“I can do a lot of things with my fingers. Let me show you.” He rolled her back over and made love to her again.

Chapter Ten

Erica woke to an empty bed. Cold too. She had a vague recollection of Mike’s phone alarm buzzing through her dreams, of him telling her to go back to sleep as he kissed her forehead and left the bed. Tendrils of coffee aroma beckoned to her, but a glance at her bedside clock let her know Mike had been gone for at least two hours. It was now eight. So much to do and no motivation to get anything done. But with work tomorrow, she had to get the house in some semblance of order today.

She crawled from bed, dragging her robe with her to the bathroom. As she took care of business, Erica surveyed the area. Other than the towel she’d given him the night before, there wasn’t a single thing of Mike’s left behind. Not even whiskers in the sink, though the intoxicating scent of lingering Brut churned her senses. Further checking also showed he’d left nothing, only the sensation of having been there. He’d done as she’d asked. Even the
National Geographic
was gone.

Damn, I was hoping to read that.
Her copy of the latest issue was one of the fire’s many casualties. “You can’t have it both ways, woman,” she scolded herself and made her way to the kitchen.

The coffee waiting for her was a fresh, untouched pot. He must have set it to auto-brew before he left. That meant he hadn’t even had coffee? Hadn’t used a cup? No footprint of any kind? It sort of pissed her off, despite her decree. She almost ignored his note to call him when she woke up. Still, how could she fault him? It
was
her request. A stupid one too. Did she really want to live like the Stantons, where privacy and secrets were held above a deeper relationship? Keith
had
burned her, but Mike didn’t deserve to be penalized as a result. Keith was the exception, not the rule.

Erica poured a cup of coffee and took it to the living room with her cell phone. Curling into the red recliner—now her second favorite piece of furniture—she hit speed dial for Mike.

“Good morning.” His deep, sexy voice slithered beneath her skin.

“Good morning yourself. Thanks for the fresh coffee.”

“My pleasure. I found a thermos in one of the boxes. Took the first pot with me. Hope you don’t mind.”

It built warmth deep inside her heart. Man, she was in big trouble—falling fast and in deep. “Not at all.”

“I hated leaving you this morning.”

More twangs in her heart. “I miss you too.”

“I had to at least say good morning. Tried my best not to wake you. Plans for today?”

“Continue to put things away.” Everyone had been truly generous in helping her out. “I need to somehow find Keith’s sister and let her know what’s happened.”

“You can use my computer if you want.”

“I have my laptop.” Thank goodness she always kept it with her.

“But no Internet access,” he said. “You can go to my house if you need. Just give me a call to make sure I’m not on a run before you come get the key.”

“Thank you. I just might do that. Any word from Craig?”

“Not yet. As drunk as he was, I doubt we’ll be hearing from him this morning, which is bad, because I’m already fielding calls from reporters wanting to talk to him.”

“I’ll give him until noon, then see what’s up.” Maybe he would have heard from Betty by then.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I appreciate that. I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow. We’re ready to wow the kids.”

“It’ll be a great way to start their week. See you then.”
I love you.

Ah, shit. She was screwed. Thank God those words hadn’t left her lips. After her big talk yesterday, she doubted Mike would believe her. And could she trust the emotion? She’d—they’d—been through a lot since Friday. Then to discover just how very, very compatible they were in the bedroom—never, ever had she been with someone who loved the give-and-take of sexual play the way she did. Guys always took the lead. No one ever wanted to share it equally. But Mike… Damn hot, wonderfully perfect Mike did. Mike her friend. Mike her lover.

Mike the man who wouldn’t trust her one-hundred-eighty-degree turn from her rules and boundaries speech the day before. Erica knew she needed to give it—and them—time to settle into this new aspect of their relationship. She also knew the first step needed to come from her.

She hit Mike’s speed dial number.

“Good morning again.”

Erica could almost see his smile through the phone. “And to you as well. I was thinking. I would like to use your Internet. Want to exchange keys? Don’t pump your fist in victory.”

Laughter burst from him. “I see I’m not the only one with secret skills.”

“Still waters. Tip of the iceberg.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“You should be.” She kept her voice low and sultry and let Mike’s imagination do the rest.

“Damn, woman, you expect me to go back to work
now
?”

“I do. After all, you are a professional. I’ll give you a call before I head your way.”

She ended the call feeling all giggly inside. How was she going to hide the way she felt from the world when she saw him tomorrow?

Erica pulled in a breath. Well, she was a professional too. She could do this. Oh, she wasn’t going to feign grief over Keith’s death, but she also wasn’t going to ruin what promised to be something good with Mike by not showing the correct respect the public demanded from a widow. They had to live in this town. Rumor and gossip would hurt them both.

Her phone rang. She checked the display. Mike again.

“How did you ever manage to leave this morning?” she asked when she answered.

“It was hard,” he replied.

It wasn’t difficult figuring out that double entendre. “I’ll bet,” she said with a laugh. “So, you called?”

“Yeah.” He paused overly long before he continued. “Sandy’s only now leaving. I’ll ask her to drop the key by your place. I want you to have it when you need it, and I might be out when you call.”

“Sounds good.”

She ended their call and went to get ready. Erica dreaded Sandy’s arrival. Courtesy required her to invite Sandy in for coffee. Chances were any conversation was going to veer toward what Keith had done. Erica wasn’t sure she could handle the guilt she was going to feel, even though it wasn’t her fault. Then again, Sandy had just come off a three-day shift. Erica perked up a bit. Her goal might be home, not visiting.

She hauled on blue capris and a pink camp shirt and was running a brush through her hair when Sandy knocked. Erica pasted on a smile and hurried to the door…and found death warmed-over on the other side. Sandy looked like shit. Her pale features looked ashen, her eyes bloodshot. A light breeze ruffled through her short dark hair. She shivered in response, despite the gray hoodie and black sweatpants she wore.

“Sandy? Are you are all right?”

“Bathroom. Now.”

Erica immediately stood to one side and pointed the way. Sandy dashed off, not even bothering to shut the bathroom door behind her. The sounds of retching were loud and clear.

God. The last thing she needed was to get sick. But her heart wouldn’t let her desert someone in distress. She gave Sandy a little time to recover, then went to check on her. Sandy lay on the floor, arms wrapped around her stomach and her back pressed against the tub. Erica wet a washcloth and pressed it against her face.

“I’m okay now,” she said but didn’t push away the help.

“Come on. Let’s move you somewhere more comfortable and give your stomach a chance to recover.” She helped Sandy to her feet and guided her toward the couch.

“Don’t worry. I’m not contagious.”

“No, you’re pregnant.” Erica didn’t know how she suddenly knew. She simply did.

Sandy nodded. Tears flooded in. “God, Erica, what do I do? How much more is Keith going to take from me? Now I’ll have a constant reminder of…”

“For now, you’re going to rest. I’ll put a trash can by the couch just in case.”

“At…at least he’s not around to know. I’m so glad that son of a bitch is dead.”

Who wasn’t? “Rest. You need something, let me know. I’m just going to be putting things away.”

“I dropped Mike’s key on the bathroom floor.”

“I’ll find it.”

Sandy grabbed Erica’s sleeve before she could move. “Don’t tell them.”

Erica patted her hand. “I won’t, but I also won’t lie for you. They will find out eventually.”

Her quivering chin came up. “I might decide there’s nothing to find out about.”

“Okay, then.” Erica hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but who was she to judge? Sandy didn’t need a lecture right now. She needed support. Erica squeezed Sandy’s hand, then let go. “Get some rest.”

Sandy toed off her sneakers, lay down on her side, then curled the throw pillow under her head while she stared at Erica through glazed eyes. “I met a great guy right before this happened. Good-looking, funny, smart. His kisses melt me, but then the thought of… I want him, but I freak out, because all I can think about is that knife at my throat.”

Erica struggled for the right thing to say. No one mentioned Keith had used a knife. Maybe Sandy hadn’t told them. “If this man is someone you think you want in your life, then you need to be one hundred percent honest with him. You need to tell him you were raped. A good man will understand and help you through it.”

“But…I’m pregnant. How do I… What do I do?” Tears fell to the pillow under her cheek. “It’s not the baby’s fault how it was conceived. It’s a little baby. But it’s
his
baby, and if it looks like him… To see that face every day of my life. I like to think I’m a good person, but I get sick inside at the thought. Poor little baby.” She lifted her head. “Do I tell this guy I’m pregnant too?”

“Honestly, I’d recommend full disclosure. You can’t build a future with someone on half-truths and secrets. If you can’t be completely open with him, then he’s not the man for you. I’m not saying it will go smoothly, but you do have to be honest, especially if you think you want something with him.”

“I’m scared.”

“I would be too.” Erica let out a small laugh. “Hell, I
am
scared.”

Sandy pushed upright. “Mike’s not Keith.”

Jeez, did everyone know? “Neither is your great guy. Give him a chance.”

“I will.” She reached for her shoes. “I will right now.” Sandy had them on and was at the door in less than thirty seconds. “Thank you so much. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Anytime. It’s what friends are for.”

“Yeah, and I’m glad you’re one of mine.” She started out the door, then stepped back inside. “Chief Stanton just pulled up. He looks worse off than me.”

Erica came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. Craig exited his car, smoothed his white uniform shirt, took a deep breath, then headed their way.

Thanks to the breeze drifting their way, the stench of alcohol pouring from his skin, coupled with whatever cologne he’d used to try to cover it, hit Erica from ten feet away. Sandy slapped her hand over her mouth and dashed for the bathroom. Erica backed up a bit the closer he came and found herself wishing there was a second bathroom, just in case.

“Looks like someone else had a rough night.” He motioned toward Sandy. “I can definitely sympathize.” He looked at her. “I wanted to apologize for my demeanor last night. I clearly wasn’t myself and am deeply regretful for any awkwardness or inconvenience I may have caused.”

He could have done that over the phone. Erica tried her best to keep her hands from covering her nose.

“I also wanted to give you this.” He pulled a key from his pocket and sighed. “You’re right. I need information. I can’t make myself cross that line, so I’m asking you to look through her things. I trust you to tell me what you’ve found. No matter what it is. I’ll be at the station.”

“If you’re sure.” She took the key from his outstretched fingers.

“I am.” He nodded, then did an about-face and left.

She waited until his car disappeared down the street, then called Mike.

He answered with a, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Heads-up. Craig’s headed to the station. He reeks of a distillery.”

“Thanks for the warning. I’ll convince him to go back home.”

“I doubt he’ll listen.” She briefed him on her task.

“Okay. Call me first. If it’s really bad news, I’d prefer to know beforehand.”

“I will.” Whatever she found—answers or not—Craig would need support.

Sandy stumbled from the bathroom looking even whiter than before. “I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I need to run out and take care of a few things. You’re welcome to stay here to recuperate if you’d like.”

Hand on her stomach, Sandy eyeballed the couch. “Bless you.”

Poor thing.
Sweat dotted her pale face. Erica’s stomach unleashed a hunger growl, but Sandy’s pained expression begged her not to cook. “Don’t worry. I’m headed to Mike’s first to use his Internet. I’ll grab something to eat on the way there.”

Sandy muttered her thanks, then curled back up on the couch, a pillow clutched beneath her head. By the time Erica was ready to leave, she was sound asleep. It was probably the best thing for her right now. Maybe she’d even wake up with the answers she needed. Whoever this great guy was, Erica hoped he’d stand by her—the way Mike had her.

At McDonald’s, breakfast sandwich and coffee in hand, Erica planned her day. She was halfway through her meal, lost in thought, when someone slid into the booth across from her. Her stomach churned.

“Good morning, Detective Posner. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Great minds,” he said. “And my good fortune. I was stopping in for a bite myself when I spotted you.”