G-Men: The Series (38 page)

“Babe,” he said, “I’m not trying to freak you out. You just need to know that there are ways around this stuff. Granted, I learned this in the military, but think about how many other people learned the same thing?”

“So, what do I do?”

“Call the security company tomorrow and tell them you want your motion detectors upgraded so they scramble the rays. You don’t want straight line signals. As far as the exterior doors, there’s not a lot you can do about that. I recommend you change the sheets on the bed in the master suite the rat bastard was using and we move up there. That way, the motion detectors can do their work.”

What he was saying made sense, except for one minor detail.

“Well, how will you get in at night?”

“Through the front door by ringing the doorbell, I presume. The rat bastard has fled the scene, remember?”

“There’s still the matter of Lindsey, Slate. I simply can’t spring you on her after all she’s going through right now. It just wouldn’t be right.”

He threw his arm around my shoulder, and pulled me close to his chest, kissing the top of my head.

“I know, babe. We’ll figure something out, okay? The most important thing is for you and Lindsey to be safe. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, but with slime like Jack, you just never know who he may have pissed off.”

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Starving,” he said with his lazy grin.

“Slate, how did I not see you on the exterior cameras?”

“I was a green beret, Sammie. We have our ways.”

^{chapter 49}

The following morning was Saturday, so I was graced with having Slate sleeping beside me once again. I stretched languidly next to him, a smile coming to my lips as I replayed last night in my mind over and over again. It had been delicious.

Slate and I had fucked with abandonment. There had even been food involved, at one point. I felt my face flush when I recalled how he had me straddle him with my back to his front as he sat in Jack’s chair in the master suite. I’d ridden him up and down; the position allowed him to hit some very special places I hadn’t yet discovered. I became extremely vocal. Slate said I was talking way dirty; directing him to keep stroking my ‘you-know-what’ with his ‘you-know-what’ until I ‘f’ing’ came all over him. I’d denied it when he told me, but I was sure he had no reason to lie. In fact, he had been extremely pleased about it.

I felt him stir next to me. He always seemed to sense when I was awake, even if I didn’t move or say anything. I thought it probably had something to do with his special forces training in the military.

He pulled me up against him, splaying his fingers on my naked belly as we ‘spooned.’ I felt his warm lips kissing the back of my neck; his hand lifted my hair up so that he had access. I shivered against him. Just then, we both felt the baby move. It felt like a somersault, which wasn’t all that unusual.

“Wow,” Slate said. I could tell he was grinning. “He has some good moves, doesn’t he?”

I rolled over to face him, gently kissing his lips.

“Yes, he does - just like his father. I hope ‘Tate’ looks just like you, Slate.”

“Tate?” he asked, a puzzled frown appearing. “I thought it was Grant?”

“No, I changed my mind. I thought I told you I was prone to that.”

“Well, be prepared to change it again then, baby. Tate Slater isn’t a good combo. I can just hear the kids now calling him Tater Slater or some bullshit like that. No way, it won’t be Tate.”

“I’m the one carrying this baby. I’m the one that’ll go through the pain of childbirth. I’ll name him whatever I want.”

“Think again, babe. I reserve the right of approval, got it?”

I squirmed in his arms, but he didn’t budge. I looked at his face. He was serious and he wasn’t going to back down.

“We’ll find something we can agree on, I’m sure,” I grumbled.

“Good,” he replied, smacking my bottom gently as he rolled away from me. “Let’s shower, and then we have work to do.”

“What work?”

“You’re calling the security company for the upgrade. Then we’re going to go over Jack’s cell phone detail that we subpoenaed. I need your help in identifying phone numbers you recognize.”

I rolled my eyes, not anxious to be holed up all day going over phone records and being drilled by Slate to see if I recalled the numbers. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely wanted to be drilled by Slate, but in other ways.

We’d spent about three hours reviewing the records. So far, I’d recognized Susan’s number about a zillion times, Lindsey’s cell number about a dozen times, my number a few times and about ten numbers I had no clue about. Slate said he’d get those numbers run to see to whom it was that they belonged; I was definitely getting bored.

We were now rummaging through copies of our financial records that Slate had been given to mark up expenditures on Jack’s debit card. There were the usual charges for gas, restaurants, hotels, and a couple of major cash withdrawals were shown from an ATM located in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

That was strange, as I wasn’t aware of any dealings he would’ve had there. Slate was going to check the ATM locations to see if the cameras revealed any other individuals being nearby when Jack made the transactions and to make sure that it was, in fact, Jack doing them.

By now, I was extremely bored. I sat at the table with my head perched in my hand, stifling a yawn. Slate was all about forging on. I didn’t think I could take much more. He finally noticed.

“Are you tired, babe? Do you want to take a nap?”

“Uh huh,” I replied smiling. “As long as you’ll take one with me.”

I saw
his slow, lazy smile spread across his handsome face.

“I think that can be arranged,” he said, taking my hand and leading me upstairs to the master suite.

Slate undressed me slowly and sensually, cupping my breasts in his hands, lowering his mouth to them to tease and tantalize them with his tongue. He hooked his thumb into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down. He shed his clothes immediately, lifting me up and placing me on my back on the bed.

From there, he began his sensual journey down my body with his mouth and tongue. He pleasured me in every way possible, taking his time and savoring every inch of me. I moaned softly and moved my body rhythmically to his touch. His tongue explored the folds of my pussy, causing me to writhe beneath him impatiently.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked softly, as he prepared to thrust himself inside of me. I watched as he knelt out of my reach, stroking his hardened cock with his hand, taunting me with his movements.

“I want it now, Slate,” I answered, wrapping my legs around his hips, urging him closer. He lowered his hips, his hand still encircled around his erection as he thrust himself into me, causing me to gasp in pleasure as he filled me with himself. I immediately dug my bare feet into his muscular ass while he rocked rhythmically in and out of me.

The house was empty except for us. I writhed in pleasure beneath him, crying out each time he thrust himself in and out of me. My pulse quickened, I was moaning loudly; he was bringing it home for me. I was quickly reaching my crescendo and being extremely vocal about it.

All of a sudden, the sound of the security panel that had been installed in the master suite started beeping. I could make out one of the red warning lights blinking. The computerized voice indicated an ‘intruder in Sector 2,’ wherever that happened to be.

Slate was up and off of me in a second. He pulled his jeans up and motioned for me to stay put. If I didn’t punch a code in within thirty seconds, the authorities would automatically be dispatched. I realized that thirty seconds was a long time when one is riveted with fear. Slate was here. How much worse would it have been if it had only been me?

He slipped soundlessly from the room, whispering for me to lock the door behind him. I scrambled off of the bed and followed his instruction.

I made it a point to look at the clock on the nightstand. I had to get some sense of time in all of this. It read 12:49 a.m. At 12:54 a.m., Slate hollered for me to come down. I slipped my panties on and tied my robe around me. I unlocked the bedroom door and went down to the main floor, where Slate was checking various doors and windows.

I could see the flashing lights of the security patrol car that had been dispatched. Slate had the door open before the two security officers reached the threshold. I stood there in a semi-fog while he took charge of the situation.

He led them through the kitchen and dining room to the patio doors leading to the deck. That’s where the ‘perp,’ as he termed it, gained entrance.

I followed them, listening to Slate’s assessment.

God, he was such a ‘G-Man,’ I thought, as he pointed out that a small, perfectly round hole had been cut into the glass with a diamond wheel glass cutter. From there, the perp had reached in an unlocked the deadbolt. Slate pointed out several thread fibers that were stuck to the sharp edges of the hole in the glass from the perp’s gloves.

Several minutes later, the county sheriff’s deputies arrived to make a formal report. They spent about thirty minutes going over the outside of the house with flashlights looking for any other clues the perp had left. Slate concluded he’d been scared off by the blinking panel when he reached the kitchen area. He also noted that the laptop, which had remained on the kitchen counter, was gone.

Damn! That meant that the opportunity to access what the cameras had recorded and saved to the hard drive were gone, as well. I kicked myself for not taking the instructions I was given about hiding the laptop seriously. I’d simply left it out on the kitchen counter in plain sight.

The deputies said they’d send the crime lab out first thing in the morning. They asked that we steer clear of those rooms where the perp had been until it had been thoroughly dusted and analyzed. I knew they wouldn’t find anything; so did Slate.

After they left, Slate and I climbed the stairs back to the master suite. I crawled under the covers, shivering, even though it was late July. Slate got naked and crawled in beside me.

“Who do you think it was?”

“I haven’t the foggiest, babe. If I had to guess, I’d say it was someone who has a score to settle with Jack. He owes somebody something. We have to figure out who and what.”

I curled up next to him, feeling safe now with his arms around me.

“Get some sleep, babe. You need to have Lindsey stay a while longer with your folks. I’m going to be staying here with you until we get a grip on this. I’m bringing a couple of my guns over here, too. I’m going to teach you how to use one.”

“Slate,” I started, “I don’t - -”

“It’s not up for debate, Sammie.”

^{chapter 50}

The next week flew by quickly. I’d told Lindsey there had been an attempted break-in at the house. I told her to stay put with my parents until further notice. She wanted me to stay with them, as well. I told her I’d be fine. I had someone looking out after me. She didn’t question me further.

As promised, Slate now carried his government issued 9 mm semi-automatic gun with him when he came to the house. He also brought a small 32 caliber snub-nosed handgun for me. I wasn’t comfortable with it at all.

I’d never held a gun in my life. Slate taught me the proper way to handle it, load it, unload it and clean it. He’d taken me to the shooting range a couple of times, demonstrating the proper way to aim and shoot.

Slate was spending every free moment with me. He was there in bed next to me, on top of me, or underneath me each and every night. No new information had surfaced on Jack or Susan.

As expected, the crime lab wasn’t able to pick up any prints from the break-in. The alarm system had been upgraded, per Slate’s instructions. The new laptop was set up inside a locked cabinet, so anything recorded to the hard drive would be available, if needed.

I was getting dressed for a meeting with Donovan and some of the forensic accountants who had finished their investigation. My father was picking me up in about fifteen minutes.

I went into the bathroom where Slate was shaving.

It seemed so natural for him to be here now. I went over and kissed him on the cheek he’d already shaved. He was fresh from the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips.