Big Bad Easy (12 page)

Jameson held his tongue because he knew that arguing wouldn’t work at this point. Reminding the captain of the dead woman would have no effect until they had evidence of some kind. And, that’s why he sat in his car with his head on the steering wheel. They had no evidence. Nothing.

He had to tell her the truth. Zara deserved it. She needed to know that he’d failed to solve her case in the short term and possibly in the long term. Admitting defeat hurt deep down. He didn’t like anything about it. He learned nothing from it, except that he lost a bit of his enthusiasm for police work with each case that remained unsolved even it wasn’t his. With this case, he’d not only lose that, but he stood to lose an amazing woman—tough, but tender. Hard, but caring.

It wouldn’t get any easier the longer he sat in the car. He lugged his bulk out of the car, down the sidewalk, and around the corner to the huge house that someone had subdivided into four apartments. Zara’s ground floor place had the curtains open, but he didn’t see her inside. He knocked, just a few minutes after eight, and waited. His chest hurt and the muscles in his back twisted into tight knots as he thought of how he would tell her that her case would likely never be solved.

As soon as she opened the door, he braced himself for an onslaught of angry words. He tried to assuage her. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

Zara raised one eyebrow at him. “Late? I hardly call five minutes late.”

He stabbed at getting an answer. “Then why the cross face? Bad day at work?”

“You could say that.”

“Anything I can help with?” Maybe he didn’t cause the problem, which could mean no angry words specifically for him.

“You could.” She blocked the doorway, her hand gripped around the jamb. The trouble began when her foot went rat-a-tat-tat.

“I’m here to help.” Despite her innocent words, Jameson got the vibe that she’d planned for a battle and he was the opposing force.

“Then, come in, Sergeant.” She backed out of the door and gave him a slight bow.

He passed her and instinctively looked for a trap or snare. She had been in the Army. She could know a wide range of ways to get him. He wished he knew why she had him on edge. Her calm demeanor mixed with toe-tapping meant something was wrong.

“Now.” She turned and closed the door, resting against it. “Tell me.”

He played dumb. She knew. How, he had no idea, but she knew. For the next few moments, he would size her up, gauge her anger, and predict her reaction. Violent, he could be sure of that. “What?”

“The case.” She crossed her arms.

Maybe not violent. Perhaps just angry words and revoking sexual privileges. He would miss that, and feared it more than her putting him in a headlock. That he could get out of eventually. Regaining her trust so that he could sink his cock into her tight, wet pussy would take much more time and effort. “I can’t talk about the murder case.”

“Not the one I’m talking about.” She uncrossed her arms. He tried not to flinch. “Quit it. Stupid doesn’t look good on you.”

It didn’t matter how she found out, so he didn’t ask. From her clenching and unclenching right hand, she wanted to hit him. The fact that she had this much control amazed him. “The guy we arrested probably isn’t the guy who stole your stuff.”

“Give me a really good reason why you didn’t tell me.”

“Because you were so happy. I didn’t want to burst your bubble.” His shoulders dropped. He opened himself up for her to smack him or take a jab at him. He deserved it. “I should have, and I’m sorry I didn’t. You’re just damn distracting when you’re wearing next to nothing. Hell, you’re distracting when you’re fully clothed.”

Her fist relaxed. “So, who is he?”

“The guy who busted your window?” He shrugged. “I wish I fucking knew. That camera angle is so off that even the IT guys couldn’t make it better. All we can tell is that he’s a short, skinny dude. White kid, maybe Hispanic, or Asian. That only rules out a quarter of the population of New Orleans.”

“And you’re sure about the other three cases?”

“Yeah, those and two others reported in the last week. He’s admitted to them, kind of bragged about it.”

“Which is how you know that he didn’t break into my car.”

“Yep.” Here’s where he had to spill it all, except his list of suspects. “The big difference is that the guy we arrested, the one Ms. Yates saw and led to the golf club guy taking down the license plate?” He paused to make sure he had her full attention. Something out the window had distracted her.

“Yeah?” She turned her head to him and trained her eyes on him. The intensity of her gaze silenced him for a short while. He wanted to stare into those eyes for longer, over dinner, sharing stories, connecting.

“He didn’t take driver’s licenses. Not any. Very different MO.” He frowned. The captain should listen to them. The guy took Zara’s license to figure out where she lived, just like he took the murdered victim’s license. Had to be the same guy. Had to be.

“And, that bothers you.”

“It does.”

“Spill it, Jameson. I’m not pleased with you, and keeping things from me won’t make it better. Don’t treat me like a pansy. I’m not that type of woman.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“I think he wanted to know where you lived.” It sounded weird as he said it, like he had this conspiracy kind of brain where a serial killer was in the making.

“Like a stalker? I have a stalker?” Her mouth twisted to the side, and her eyebrows knitted together. He’d not convinced her.

“I don’t know if you do. I suspect you do, just like I think the…” He caught himself. Scaring her with unproven what ifs seemed wrong, unprofessional. His emotions were talking, not his brain.

She stepped toward him. “Jameson?”

He winced. Sharing his theory crossed the line. “I shouldn’t. None of this can be proven. It’s all a hunch.”

“Am I in danger?”

“Possibly.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Then fucking tell me.”

He hung his head in defeat. She deserved to know. “The murdered woman had her purse stolen, too, including her driver’s license. Soon after the theft, she got a new guy. I think that when she was done with him, he came back, jealous because she had a new one.”

Zara rubbed her forehead. “You think that the guy who stole her license did it to meet her?”

“I do.”

“So, there’s a guy who’s looking to meet me?”

“He may already know you, but he didn’t know where you lived. He took your license to figure that out.”

“If he already knows me, why wouldn’t he just ask or follow me home?”

“Maybe when you’re going home he’s busy and can’t follow you.”

“So why steal my other stuff, why not just write it down after breaking into the car?”

It was his turn to shake his head. “Writing it down would take time, and that would mean someone might see him. Grab and go.”

She sat on her couch and patted the place beside her. “Sit with me. I’m not going to hit you. You’re obviously trying to protect me in some chauvinistic way.”

He settled in next to her and sighed as her jean-covered hip and leg pressed against him. “I want you to be safe and available for me.”

“Really?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s all about access to sex.”

“Access to you.” He pointed to the delicious bulge of her bicep. “These are things I appreciate, and it would be a damn shame to have them hurt or gone.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “So, if for some reason I lost these, you wouldn’t want me?”

“No. I mean yes.” He frowned. “How the hell do I answer that question?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine with it being all about sex.” She winked. “You’re pretty good at it.”

“I’m forgiven?” He wasn’t sure he wanted it to be all about sex. Beginning that way was great, but he’d like a chance to make this more serious.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. Why did the guy steal the other stuff from my car when he could have just snagged the license?”

“To make it seem like an ordinary break in. Nothing big. Not too much stolen, goes under the radar. If I’d gotten a report that your license or registration or something with just your address had been stolen, then I’d start thinking bad things.”

“Like?” More raised eyebrows from Zara. He was educating her, and she was committing it to memory to use later.

He didn’t want to voice all his theories of what might happen, because it was bad enough that he had experienced enough to know that these crazy, sicko acts existed. “Can we just say that they aren’t good?”

“He’s not trying to deliver me flowers?” She grinned, but it faded away as he shook his head.

“No. Zara,” he took her hand, “I’m serious. I think this guy intends you harm.”

“Jameson.” She sprung from her seat and swung her leg over his lap, straddling him.

“Zara.”

They stared at each other, him waiting for her to say more than his name and her looking like a cat about to pounce on dinner. She put her hands on his chest, and a zing spread down his abdomen to his cock and balls. Even in a semi-threatening mode, she excited him and made him want to be naked with her, panting, thrusting, exploding with orgasm as he cried her name.

“I happen to know that I am intimidating to most people. Your captain shivered when I talked to him. You are the only son of a bitch who doesn’t even flinch.”

Of course she didn’t scare him that first day. He was too busy admiring her ass, her legs, her arms. Many wouldn’t call her a beauty, but she had everything he wanted in partner, from the body to the attitude. “What’s your point?”

“Who is going to try to get me after seeing me? I can kick nearly anyone’s ass, including yours.”

“Baby, I let you.” He winked at her. Never could she really take him down without a weapon.

She shrugged. “I wasn’t adrenaline-filled at the time. I freaking lifted a vehicle off someone in a firefight, Jameson. I’m no lightweight.”

“You might not be, but I don’t want some shithead watching you get dressed or doing anything.”

“Oh, so that’s what the curtain freak out was about?”

“Yes.” He wanted to tell her about everything on the case so she’d get it, but he didn’t know if she gossiped with the women she ran with or if she’d tell those skinny kids about it. Heck, she might tell Ida, and who knew what the older lady would say and to whom. He decided one detail wasn’t too much since it had been reported in the paper that the victim’s shades were up, making the discovery of the body easy. “The lady that was murdered liked to have people watch her when she had sex. I think the murderer was watching her and got jealous.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ew, that ‘if I can’t have you no one can have you’ thing?”

“That’s just a guess, but it’s the best we have.”

“We? You’re getting back into it?” She wiggled on top of him, rubbing her crotch against his semi-hard cock. “That’s awesome.”

He didn’t want to talk of suspects, motives, and victims. Her gyrations over his crotch deserved much more attention. He had to change the subject. “One case does not mean I’m getting back into it. Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything.”

“And you still aren’t sharing it all.” She nibbled at his ear so delicately that he shivered.

“No, professional privilege.” He sought her neck to return the tremors of delight originating from her teeth and tongue.

“Got it.” She placed her palms of both sides of his head and narrowed her eyes. “There’s some shit I’m never sharing outside my unit, ever.”

“See? We get each other.” He took her waist in his hands and lifted her shirt to expose her tanned skin. His focus needed to be elsewhere. Zara wasn’t far off that this murder investigation had him wanting to dive in deeper instead of getting out of the force. Thinking about it too much would remind him of his great failure. No, it would be far better to lose himself in the lean, sexy, muscled former soldier. She’d be his therapy, his escape for tonight.

Zara breathed deeply as Jameson spread his hands over the skin of her abdomen. He did understand her, including her need for sex. “We certainly do.”

Looking into his blue eyes, she realized her anger had turned into admiration. Sharing the truth with her had done a lot to change her mind. Army training had helped with that. Commanders withheld information for reasons that they thought sound, and need to know was usually the only irrational one.

Jameson hadn’t told her everything out of worry, and that made a huge difference in how she felt. If he were just covering his ass, embarrassed that he hadn’t been able to do what he’d set out to do, then she’d still be angry and want to wrestle him into a hurting pretzel. But now, sitting atop him, his broad, muscled chest beneath her hand, she craved his naked flesh sliding against hers. “How badly do you want me?”

“Pretty fucking bad.” One of his hands slid up her back and beneath her bra strap. Warmth spread from her back, down her spine, and pulsed over her pussy.

“You might be perfect for me.” She traced her fingers to the strip of buttons down the front of his shirt. One at a time, she pushed them through the openings. She pouted when she found the thin fabric of an undershirt beneath his dress shirt. “Not fair.”

He explored her back with his hands, unhooking her bra. He lifted her shirt from the front to palm her breasts, and she arched her back. “I love it when you do that.”

“I feel the same,” she breathed as he lightly pinched her nipples that tightened in response. A zing of need shot to her pussy. Her pants suddenly constricted too much, and she wished they would vanish. “No more playing around. Let’s just get naked right now.”

“Hmm. Not here. You don’t have any curtains on these windows.”

“Right.” She pushed off of him to a stand and pulled him beside her. “Curtains are closed in the bedroom, and the door closes.” With a skip, she whipped off her shirt, tossed her bra over her head, and took off down the short hallway to the bedroom.

“Wait.”

“No.” She turned to face him as she wiggled out of her pants.

In a voice full of frustration, he yelled from the front room, “Let me lock the door at least.”

“You really are worried. Just bring your gun in here. I can make a special spot for it. What type is it? I might be pretty good at shooting it.” She dropped her panties to the floor. The fun with Jameson didn’t involve the removal of clothes. The bliss came from the contour of his muscles and their hardness as he tensed and relaxed during sex. She longed to have his ass in her hands as he came inside her. That alone brought her pleasure, having a man with such sexual prowess and muscle strength.