Authors: Deirdre Savoy

Body Of Truth (31 page)

BOOK: Body Of Truth

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“I can't. We were foolish enough to make the promise that we'd wear them until we solved the case.”

“Is that a possibility?”

“Who knows? Every now and then one of us will pick up the file or get a tip from someone that doesn't pan out.” He exhaled. “Probably not.”

He fastened a gaze on her that was as intense as it was searching. He probably wondered what she thought of him in light of the story he'd told her. She had no words to express what she felt. She recognized that he'd shared with her a part of himself that he probably didn't share with many other people. That touched her more than she could say. And she understood now what the other night had been about, all his feelings of guilt, frustration and impotence coming out in the way he'd touched her. No wonder he'd withdrawn from her after that, since he hadn't wanted to show it to her in the first place.

She took his face in her palms to place tender kisses on his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose and finally his mouth. Slowly, she leaned back against the pillows, pulling him down with her. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she loved him, but she wasn't ready to voice that sentiment yet. Instead she showed him with her body what she couldn't manage to say with words.

The next morning, after she'd showered and made him a breakfast of eggs, juice and coffee, she sat on the edge of the bed next to Jonathan and shook his shoulder. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Mumbling something, he opened his eyes and looked at her with eyes at less than half-mast. “Hmm?”

“I said, wake up. Your breakfast is getting cold.”

“Here's the only breakfast I want.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her across him so that she lay beside him with her legs over his. He buried his nose against her neck, then stopped abruptly. He lifted his head and looked down at her. “You're not wearing your throat thingie.”

“So you're awake now?” she teased. “No, I'm not. I was starting to feel like Queen Elizabeth.” When he looked at her quizzically she explained. “You know with the ruff.” She gestured with her hands to emphasize her point.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Your voice sounds better.”

“I broke down and took one of the pills.” She'd given in when she discovered nearly every muscle in her body ached from overexertion of one kind or another.

“I'm glad. I thought I might have to sic Joanna on you.”

“No, not that,” she teased, knowing Joanna could be just as forceful as she was when the situation called for it. She wondered what Joanna, who'd warned her away from her own brother, would say if she saw them together now. He'd never seemed to her to be the kind of man Joanna described: fickle, faithless, unable to commit to anything besides his career. If anything, after seeing him with Tyree, hearing his story last night, he struck her the opposite wayâas a man who stuck once he decided to care about something. Maybe he'd showed her a side of himself he kept from his family or maybe he was different with her. “Joanna doesn't approve,” she said finally.

His mouth tilted in a self-mocking smile. “I don't blame her. I've never exactly been great relationship material. After a while the most patient woman gets tired of waiting around wondering when I'm going to show up or when I'm going to do more around the house than sleep and deplete the refrigerator.”

His gaze drifted downward, to her abdomen where his fingers sketched a pattern on her belly. Was he trying to warn her off, too? Or perhaps that this was the way he was and he didn't intend to change. Maybe it was time she let him know a few home truths, too. “I wouldn't sit around waiting for anybody. I'd hire a housekeeper and do what I wanted to do.”

He smiled. “I'm sure you would.”

From the way he said that, she wasn't sure whether he considered that a good thing or a bad one. “I haven't exactly been the poster child for great relationships either,” she confessed. “I never wanted to bring guys around Tim, especially when he was younger, let him grow attached to them only to have them leave. I always kept men a separate part of my life.”

He took her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him. His gaze was intense, but at the same time reassuring. “I'm not going anywhere, Dana, not unless you want me to.”

He must have misread her meaning. She didn't have abandonment issues, at least none that he figured into. If anything, at the moment, she was the one guilty of abandonment, having failed to bring Tim home.

“What's the matter, baby?”

“I want to go get my brother.”

“When? Now?”

She nodded.

“That's not a problem. Why don't you give him a call and let him know we're coming? I'll go wash up.”

He touched his lips to her shoulder before climbing out of the opposite side of the bed. She watched him walk to the bathroom. Damn! She had to be insane not to give herself one full day alone and conscious with him. But she missed her brother and wanted to see for herself that he was all right, that things between them were all right. She picked up the phone on the bedside table and dialed his cell phone.

“Hey, Sis,” he said when the call connected. “I wondered when you'd get around to calling me yourself.”

She'd asked Jonathan to call him last night from the hospital fearing he'd hear a news report about the events in the unfinished house and worry. Jonathan had told him that she'd call him as soon as she could. Now, she heard the chastisement in her brother's voice at her lack of promptness in getting back to him.

Unsure she wanted to tell him everything that happened that night, she said, “Things have been a little crazy around here since then.”

Unrepentant, Tim said, “I bet.”

Dana ground her teeth together. “I'm home now. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“Nah, Ms. Kenner said she'd bring me home when I was ready.”

“When?”

“In about an hour, I guess. See you then.”

The line went dead. She hung up the phone and threw off her covers. While she'd spoken to her brother, she'd heard the sound of the shower come on in the bathroom. She got a condom from the nightstand drawer and went to join Jonathan.

He didn't seem surprised to have her slide in the shower behind him and wrap her arms around his waist. His hands covered hers and he brought one of her palms to his lips to plant a soft kiss there. “Trying to sneak in a quick one before we have to go get your brother?”

Hearing the humor in his voice, she said, “What a delicate way you have of phrasing it, but yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“None.” He turned so that he faced her and pulled her into his arms. She tilted her face up for his kiss. For the next few moments she concentrated on nothing but the warmth of the water, the heat of his embrace and the cold certainty that, despite their own histories and personal baggages, she didn't want to let this man go without a fight.

Dana had barely finished dressing and fixing her hair when she heard Tim's key in the lock. “Hey, Sis, where are you?” he called.

She hurried down the steps to greet him. Even in the short time they'd been separated, he seemed to have grown another inch.

He smiled when he saw her and grabbed her in a bear hug once she was close enough for him to do so. “I missed you.”

She smiled against his shoulder. He was man enough to take her to task for what he saw as her deficiencies, but there was still enough of the little boy in him that he sought her comfort and reassurance.

But suddenly, he stiffened. She pulled back to look at him and noted where his attention centeredâbehind her, to watch Jonathan descending the stairs.

It should have occurred to her to orchestrate a better meeting between the two of them than this. She knew Tim regarded Jonathan as an opportunist taking advantage of his older sister, despite the implausibility of that assumption. Half of her wanted to shake Tim and ask him when had he ever known her to allow anyone to walk all over her. The other half of her understood his hostility. For what other reason would Jonathan have been upstairs except to share her bed? His presence on the stairs was like throwing it in Tim's face that they had just been together. Inwardly, she groaned. Dealing with men and near men could sometimes be a colossal pain in the ass.

“What is he doing here?” Tim said finally.

“He's a guest in this house and you will treat him as such.”

“Yeah, right.” Tim picked up the bag at his feet. “I'm going to go put my stuff away.” He moved off, went to his room and shut the door.

Damn!
She shut her eyes and counted to ten for patience as Jonathan's arms closed around her from behind.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. When I spoke to him yesterday, he was so accommodating, I thought he'd gotten over whatever thing he has with me.”

“That would make life too easy, wouldn't it?”

He kissed her shoulder. “Well, he'll have you all to himself this afternoon. I have to go in for a while.”

She figured as much. At the very least, she knew he'd have to report the details of what happened to his superiors. “Do you need me to go in, too? Make some sort of statement?”

“How about you write down everything that happened as best as you can recollect it, for now. Moretti's dead. As far as I know, the investigation is closed.”

She nodded. “That shouldn't be too hard. I got a lot of practice writing yesterday.” She went to the kitchen and got a yellow legal pad and a pen from one of the drawers, then sat down at the kitchen table to write down everything she remembered. When she was finished, she slid the pad to Jonathan.

He read through the sheaf of paper she'd filled. “Why did Moretti want to know if you'd seen the car that picked up Amanda Pierce?”

“I don't know. Maybe there was something about it he thought I might have remembered that would have identified it. At the time I got the feeling that's what this was all about. He thought I saw something that would link him to the car. The irony is, like I told him, I don't remember anything. I was too busy being disgusted with seeing two yuppies flashing their wealth in the 'hood.”

Jonathan stood. “Walk me out?”

She took his hand and followed him. When they got to the door she asked the question that had been plaguing her since she'd fled the motel room, but hadn't really wanted to know the answer to. “The officers who were watching me. What happened to them?”

He squeezed her hand. “They're gone.”

She lowered her gaze to watch his thumb sketch a lazy pattern over her skin. Intuitively, she'd known that, but hearing it flat out disturbed her. She didn't know those men, but it seemed unfair for them to lose their lives over something they weren't a part of while she still had hers.

“That isn't your fault, Dana. That was their job.”

“I know.” She let out a long weary breath. “So much death, Jonathan, and over nothing.”

“But it's over.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her mouth. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

Jonathan pulled away from the curb in front of Dana's house, grateful that she hadn't proved to be more inquisitive than he could handle at the moment. He'd already heard from Mari that the scarf Moretti had used was probably the same one used to kill Amanda Pierce. It bore the same black-and-white pattern she described seeing.

As of yet, no one had been able to locate Moretti's two accomplices to verify his story. The key Moretti's girlfriend had given him turned out to belong to a room in a storage facility where they found Pierce's belongings, minus her clothes. Her notes verified she'd met with RandallâOld Specsâand he'd given her Moretti's name.

It was all tied up neatly with a ribbon that said, case closed. The brass seemed to want to look at it that way, but they would, considering that one of their own was responsible for at least four deaths and that wasn't even counting Malone. They wanted it wrapped up, so they could tell an edgy public that the threat to their safety had been quashed. But something niggled in the back of Jonathan's mind, just below his consciousness, that didn't allow him to let go of the case that easily.

Mari was sitting at her desk when he walked into the squad room. She leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed and surveyed him as he took off his jacket and sat across from her. “I didn't think I'd see you in here today.”

“Time, tide, and paperwork wait for no man.”

“I hear that. How's Dana?”

“She's fine. Still sounds like Lauren Bacall with a frog in her throat.”

BOOK: Body Of Truth

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