Veiled Intentions Read online

Page 6


  Katelyn had already reached for the fridge, but that brought her hand to a stop. She forced herself not to stop for too long so it wouldn’t appear she was shocked by that revelation.

  “Well, then. I owe you the thanks instead.” She took out a beer from the fridge, handed it to him and left it at that.

  Joe closed down the files and started in on his beer. It was obviously his favorite, as well.

  “Agreeing to go into that back office with Merrick wasn’t a safe idea,” he let her know.

  Oh, that.

  She hadn’t thought for a minute that he’d forget it. “No. But it was a smart one. Come on, you were on the verge of following him, but I just got around to saying it first.”

  He didn’t agree, or disagree. Joe sat there, staring into space while slowly sliding his fingers through the moisture on the longneck bottle.

  Judas.

  Even that made her body think of erotic things that it shouldn’t be thinking about.

  “Talk to me about Brayden,” she said to give her body something else to contemplate. “About this so-called investigation that the chief ordered regarding preferential treatment.”

  That got Joe’s attention off blank space. He looked at her again. “Is this the part where you tell me to back off and leave your brother alone?”

  “Something like that. He’s had a rough time recently.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry about his wife’s death.”

  “His wife’s murder,” Katelyn quickly corrected. “She was murdered last year, and the case is practically cold. There are no arrests and no leads. Brayden has to live with that every single moment of his life. Any idea what that does to a good cop, to know he can’t solve his own wife’s murder?”

  Another nod.

  “By nodding, I guess you mean to imply that you understand, but there’s no way you could,” Katelyn went on. There was a lot more emotion in her voice than she wanted. But then, she’d never thought to discuss this objectively. “Brayden loved her, and it rips his heart to shreds to know that her killer is still out there somewhere.”

  “I’m sorry.” It probably would have been easier for him to turn his attention back to the condensation on his beer bottle, or anywhere else for that matter, but he didn’t. Joe kept his gaze firmly on her. “Do you honestly think that I’d believe there’s preferential treatment just because it’s an allegation?”

  She opened her mouth. Closed it. Frowned. And silently cursed him. It was a dirty-pool kind of question, one that diffused the indignation she’d planned to hang on to a little longer. It was a good barrier against the effects of that desperado stubble.

  “Brayden is lucky to have Garrett and you,” Joe said, getting up from his chair. “And you’re lucky to have them.” He spared her pj’s another glance. “I guess.”

  She couldn’t help it. She smiled. But she suppressed it as quickly as possible. “Does that mean Garrett had this same chat with you?”

  “Twice.”

  Katelyn had to suppress a smile again. “I’ll bet those were interesting conversations, especially considering you two are the same rank.”

  Joe appeared to suppress a smile of his own. “And am I supposed to believe you held something back because I outrank you?”

  “Busted.” She finished off her beer, tossed the bottle into a recycling bin and unstrapped the slide holster from around her waist. “Present levity and warm fuzzy feelings aside, if you hurt Brayden, I’ll make you pay.”

  “Like I said, he’s lucky to have you.” He tipped his head toward the windows in the living room. “Don’t stand in here too long.”

  Because someone might already be watching them. If the killer hadn’t already scoped them out, then he or she would be doing it very soon. It was best not to be in his direct line of fire when that happened.

  He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost midnight. We’ve got an early morning ahead of us.”

  “Should we turn off all the lights?” she asked, going into the bedroom ahead of him. She placed her slide holster on the nightstand next to her badge, primary weapon and the communicator that she’d already turned off. Then Katelyn stepped into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

  “No. We should look…active,” Joe responded. “That way, it’ll convince a killer that we’re on our way to becoming a bride and groom.”

  “Too bad I don’t have a pair of those blow-up dolls we could parade past the window every now and then.” She paused, and was thankful she wasn’t in the same room with him so he could see the blush rise on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry I said that.”

  He chuckled softly. An incredibly sexy male sound that made her want to pound her head against the wall.

  This was going to be such a long week.

  From the mirror, she watched Joe add his two guns and his badge to the nightstand, making the rather small piece of furniture look even smaller under the arsenal. He had his shirt halfway stripped off before he stopped and snagged her gaze. “I don’t have pajamas. If you’re the blushing sort, you might want to look away.”

  Yeah, right. She was about a hundred percent certain her eyes had no intention of cooperating with that suggestion. She didn’t even fight it. Katelyn watched his reflection. A not-so-cheap thrill. And had the privilege of seeing him toss that shirt aside. At least a dozen muscles flexed in his arms and chest as they responded to the simple gesture.

  A simple gesture that caused her mouth to go dry.

  Mercy.

  She forced herself to finish brushing her teeth and even looked away when his pants came off. Well, briefly looked away. She thanked her lucky stars that he kept on a pair of dark blue boxers.

  “Will this temporary housekeeping arrangement cause any personal problems for you?” he asked.

  “If that’s a subtle way of asking me if I’m involved with anyone, the answer’s no.” It made her sound like a social leper. Which wasn’t really that far off the mark. Rather than remind him that most men weren’t turned on by a woman packing a badge and a couple of Glocks, Katelyn went for levity. “My last boyfriend was a sex therapist who broke up with me because he said I was too aggressive in bed.”

  She paused a heartbeat before she let their gazes connect again. Yep. The startled look on his face had been worth it. “It’s a joke,” she let him know.

  Other than a slight sound of amusement, that was his only other reaction. So much for levity. When she went into the bedroom, he strolled into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

  “Actually, my last boyfriend was an accountant who broke up with me because he said I was too wrapped up in my job,” she confessed and climbed into bed. “Hard to make someone feel even remotely important when you’re never around. He got fed up and left me for a kindergarten teacher.”

  Still no response.

  “How about you?” she asked.

  “No one current.” He came out of the bathroom, and she made a point of looking away. She’d already overdosed on his great bod. No need for more. “The last woman in my life was a kindergarten teacher who left me for an accountant.”

  Okay. So that broke the ice that had already been thawing between them. She laughed. Then bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh again.

  She aimed her finger at him. “Let’s get something straight. I don’t want to like you, Rico.”

  He leaned over as if to kiss her good-night, letting his mouth come very close to hers. Breath met breath. And then he turned off the light. “I agree completely.”

  She lay there silently cursing him. But not for long. His head had hardly hit the pillow on the floor before the phone rang. Since it was supposed to be her apartment, Katelyn rolled to the side of the bed and answered it.

  “It’s me,” she heard her brother say.

  “Garrett, just the man I wanted to talk to.”

  Joe must have felt the same because he pressed the speaker function on the phone. Probably because he wanted to hear anything official. But the official part would h
ave to wait.

  “Thanks for the expert packing job,” she tossed out at Garrett. “You do know this’ll cost you in slow painful ways you can’t even imagine?”

  “I’m trembling in my Doc Martens.” But the sarcasm wasn’t nearly strong enough, and it didn’t come close to masking his concern. “I’ll drop by in the morning, pretending to deliver breakfast. Anything I can bring you?”

  “You mean other than Starbucks and some real clothes?” Katelyn inquired cautiously, feeling him out.

  “Yeah. Other than that.”

  Heck. He was placating her.

  Never a good sign.

  “What about you, Rico? You need anything?” Garrett asked.

  Mercy. He’d moved from placating to being nice.

  “No, thanks,” Joe let him know. “I’ve got some things in the trunk of my car.”

  Garrett paused. Never a good sign, either. “So the plan is for you two to pick up Katelyn’s car in the morning and then not come up for air again until it’s time to announce your engagement at Perfect Match on Thursday?”

  “Great summary.” But Katelyn had reached her threshold for beating around the bush. “Spill it, Garrett. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure, exactly.” Yet another hesitation. “Someone’s digging through the fake files we created for your covers.”

  “We expected that,” Joe pointed out. He sat up in his sleeping bag, leaning back against the side of the mattress.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t expect them to go at it this way. It’s sloppy. Damn sloppy. And that slop leads right to Merrick. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  Katelyn knew exactly how he felt. Merrick might be a killer, but from all accounts he was smart. If the cyber trail led to him, then it was probably because someone wanted them to think Merrick had done it.

  Bruce Donovan, maybe?

  Of course, there was also the angle that by being sloppy, Merrick was giving himself a very convincing out.

  “If he’s that smart,” Katelyn mumbled. “We’re in serious trouble.”

  “Yeah,” Garrett agreed.

  Joe glanced at her. He had that did-I-miss-something? look. At least she thought that’s what that glance was about until he shrugged. “I don’t care how smart Merrick is. If he’s making these sloppy searches to cover the fact he’s the sniper, we’ll still stop him.”

  Well, they were all on the same page. Interesting. Most outsiders, including fellow cops, had trouble following Garrett’s and her thought processes.

  “There’s more,” Garrett continued. “It sucks, so brace yourself. I got a call from an editor friend at the Express News. There’ll be a story about the two shootings in the morning paper. They’re linking them.”

  “We knew this was coming,” Katelyn offered.

  “An article, yeah. But there’ll be photos. Some apparently taken at the icebreaker tonight. There’ll be one with Rico and you kissing.”

  Okay. So they hadn’t known about this.

  Judas.

  A photo.

  “Supposedly, it’s a grainy shot, and you’re in a lip lock, but still…” Garrett’s explanation trailed off, leaving them with the general idea that this was not a good thing.

  “How’d they get the photo?” Joe asked.

  “Addison Merrick. He takes stills from the security feed. For some reason, he gave the press a couple of them when they came around sniffing for a story about two hours ago.”

  And because she and Joe had signed those consent forms, it was all perfectly legal.

  “He’s suspicious,” Katelyn mumbled.

  “It could be a ploy to get you to back off,” Garrett suggested. “Because something like this darn sure wouldn’t be good for business.”

  “Or maybe he’s going for another sloppy tactic so he can cover his butt,” Joe contributed. “The real killer probably wouldn’t give up photos of potential victims, but a ruthless businessman trying to get some free publicity might.” He cursed. “Or a killer who wanted to appear to be an honest businessman might.”

  Neither Garrett nor she disagreed with him.

  “This changes nothing,” Joe insisted a moment later. “We’ll stick with the plan and lay low here until Thursday afternoon when we’ll make a return visit to Perfect Match. If the photo’s clearer than expected, or if it causes any unwanted press, then I’ll deal with it.”

  “You do that,” Garrett fired back.

  Katelyn huffed because she understood that tone. It was his brotherly warning for her to be careful.

  “I’m not stupid,” she responded. Katelyn reached over and hung up.

  Joe gave her another of those looks, except this time she was fairly sure he was puzzled. “He’s worried about us,” she interpreted.

  And apparently, with reason.

  The game had just escalated from dangerous to deadly. But then, Katelyn had known from day one that it was an inevitable escalation. Playing the killer’s deadly game was the only way to stop him.

  A LOUD RINGING sound jarred Joe from the dream to beat all dreams. He snapped to a sitting position and groped for the phone, the alarm or whatever the hell was making the noise so he could stop it.

  Katelyn cursed, a couple of phrases worthy of the awful racket. However, her profanity clipped off unexpectedly about a split second after she latched on to her gun and fell off the bed.

  She landed right on him.

  His hands were suddenly filled with her. A warm, firm, armed woman who smelled like a strange mixture of sex and gunmetal. Her eyes were still ripe with sleep, and she blinked several times, staring at him as if trying to figure out how she’d gotten in his lap.

  Katelyn obviously wasn’t a morning person, either.

  Thankfully, the noise stopped so Joe could get his bearings. It didn’t take long, especially when he realized her fall had aligned their bodies in the best, and worst, possible ways. She was straddling him, her long athletic legs resting against the sides of his hips.

  And he had an erection.

  It was a product of the dream he’d been having. About her. She noticed it. But then, it would have been impossible not to notice.

  “One of the advantages of being a woman,” she mumbled, her gaze drifting in the direction of where he was certainly testing the limits of his boxers. “We don’t wear our…hearts on our sleeves.”

  “Smart-ass,” he tossed back, because frankly he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Laughing lazily, she climbed off him. Staggered. And would have probably landed in his lap again if he hadn’t caught her. Specifically, her left butt cheek. Not the particular part of her anatomy he’d wanted to grab, but it was either that or risk having accidental sex with her.

  Joe was certain he didn’t want that to happen.

  Well, almost certain, anyway.

  “I think it was the doorbell.” Katelyn glanced at the clock. “Seven forty-five. It has to be Garrett. If he doesn’t have coffee with him, he’s a dead man.”

  Joe got to his feet, somehow, and fought through the haze still in his head. When the buzzing sound started again, he realized she was right. It was the doorbell. And yep, it was probably Garrett. Still, Joe wasn’t about to take any chances. He pulled on his pants, grabbed his gun and headed into the living room.

  “Be careful,” she whispered unnecessarily.

  He would. No amount of fatigue or dream remnants would cause him to do away with standard procedures. Joe eased against the wall, moving slowly. Quietly. Keeping away from the door, he lifted the blinds a fraction and peeked out.

  Not Garrett.

  “It’s Bruce Donovan,” Joe let her know.

  She already had her gun, but that caused her to assume a defensive position. No more ripe sleepy blinks or lazy laughter. She morphed into the cop.

  Joe took another look outside. Donovan appeared to be holding some papers and wasn’t visibly armed.

  Which didn’t mean anything.

  Donovan was the type to carry conceale
d.

  “Back me up,” Joe reminded her.

  Using the door to hide his gun, Joe opened it. Not a fraction, either. He might need the extra space if he had to fire.

  “Yeah?” he greeted Donovan. Not nicely, either.

  Surprise went through Donovan’s eyes, and when he tried to speak, he fumbled his words. Definitely not the slick player he’d portrayed the night before at the icebreaker.

  “I wanted to drop these off for Kate,” Donovan said, offering the papers to Joe. “It’s a copy of the release form she signed and the questionnaire she originally filled out. I thought she’d like them for her personal records. Oh, and here’s the newspaper. It was on this side of the stairs so I figured it was hers.”

  Joe took the items with his left hand so he could still hold on to his gun. “This couldn’t wait until later?”

  Donovan shrugged. “I was headed to work to get an early start and decided to drop it off on my way.”

  “Right.” The apartment wasn’t on the way to Perfect Match. Donovan was checking on them. Now, the real question was why. Was it because he was the killer, or because he’d planned to hit on Katelyn again?

  If it was the latter, the man had a death wish.

  One more attempt by Donovan to grope her breasts, and Katelyn would almost certainly go after him. And Joe would stand back and let her.

  “So are you off from work today or what?” Donovan asked.

  “I decided to take a little vacation time.”

  “From your freelance journalism job?” Donovan paused as if waiting for Joe to confirm that. Joe didn’t. “I’m the one who ran your computer matches. Personally, I figured you’d go for the blond speech therapist, but then I didn’t know about your past history with Kate.”

  It seemed like a good idea just to nod. For a man on a delivery mission, Donovan was asking a lot of questions and providing a lot of unnecessary information.

  Joe heard Katelyn move around behind him, but he had no idea what she was up to until she ducked under his arm and snuggled against him. She’d stripped off her pajama bottoms, tousled her hair around her face, and with the top that hit her at mid-thigh, she looked as if she’d just finished up a thoroughly satisfying round of sex. And was ready for round two.

 

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