Hot and Irresistible (5 page)

“Others have it worse. You should hear some of the stories from the kids over at the runaway shelter, the shelter that Ray helps keep afloat.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He slid from the car and watched Bebe drive off, then took the redbrick steps into the police station that was once an army hospital during the Spanish American War or some other war. Every building in Savannah was once something else before. Not much new in the city except for parking garages and the convention center. The locals considered both obscene.

After identifying himself at the front desk, he climbed the worn marble stairs to the second floor and usual cop/ criminal chaos. Joe Earl Hunter looked up from his desk, phone clamped between shoulder and craggy cheek, his graying left wild eyebrow cocked, which said he knew what happened out at the Cove before Donovan told him. “So how come you only went and had yourself one biscuit?” Joe Earl asked as he hung up. “Least you could do was swipe one for me.”

Donovan perched on the edge of the desk. “Is there anything that happens in this town that’s not public knowledge in five minutes flat?”

Joe Earl chuckled. “You sure you want to pursue this case? We have others you’re welcome to.” He sat up and slid a picture across the desk. “Edwina and Shipley Raeburn, two snobby come-here’s from up your way. They dropped this off earlier. They’re staying over at Magnolia House and want Bebe to call them about it.”

“A diamond necklace? Looks a little out of Bebe’s price range.”

“Only by a few million or so. The thing went missing thirty years ago during a murder at the morgue. The Raeburns say the necklace is theirs and if Bebe finds it, they want it back. She’s the one working the case.” With a twinkle in his eye, Joe Earl added, “Chasing after jewelry with Bebe ain’t all bad. You should give it some thought.”

Donovan picked a green poker chip stamped with a white gull from Joe Earl’s desk and flipped it in the air. “And it gets me off Ray Cleveland’s back.”

“There’s more to it than that. That murder I mentioned was over this necklace and the killer and the jewelry were never found and now—” Joe Earl rushed on before Donovan could interrupt “—the murderer’s back and looking for the jewels. A few days ago there was a suspicious fire at the morgue and then somebody showed up yesterday when you and Bebe were there.” Red-faced, Joe Earl pulled in a deep breath to replace all that oxygen that just spewed out of his lungs.

“I’m willing to bet that is the fastest anyone in this town’s ever talked.”

“Nearly killed me. I need a damn nap.” Joe Earl sucked in another breath.

“How do you know the jewels were never found?”

“The morgue’s haunted, or at least someone wants to give that impression. Something’s been scaring the bejeebers out of folks who bought the place for years now, making them give up restoration, sell, and move on. Then two months ago these I-talian brothers bought the place and they won’t budge from it no matter how hair-raising things get. Now I don’t believe in ghosts, either…least not this time…so the question is, why would someone go to the trouble of keeping folks out of the morgue all these years unless there was something mighty valuable inside?”

“Like the missing jewels that were never found? But why would the Raeburns think the necklace belongs to them?”

“Their daughter inherited it. She and her husband were the ones murdered thirty years ago in the morgue when trying to sell it off. The murdered-daughter part doesn’t bother Ship and Ed nearly so much as not having the jewels they think belong to them.”

Donovan ran his thumb over the chip. “Interesting, but not my thing. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

“The person trying to buy the necklace from the daughter thirty years ago was none other than Ray Cleveland. That made him a suspect in the murders, but there wasn’t enough proof at the time to make it stick. Lately Ray’s been seen hanging around the morgue almost as if he’s looking for something.”

“The missing necklace? You think he’s the murderer? Why the hell are you telling me all this? I thought Cleveland was your friend.”

“Hell, we play golf every Saturday out at his country club. Tee-off time ten a.m. sharp, been doing it for the last fifteen years.” Joe Earl took the chip from Donovan. “I want you to prove Ray innocent. He’s got the money enough now, all right, but he’s had a tough life. When he didn’t get that necklace for his wife and wound up being the number-one suspect in the murder investigation, his wife left him, took his baby, and he’s been living under this suspicious cloud too long. I can’t do anything about the wife and kid, they just vanished, South America somewhere, but I can get you involved and try and make things right. You’re a big-city hotshot detective and with a little luck, maybe you can find the real killer and Ray can put this part behind him.”

“You’re baiting me? That if I can’t get Cleveland for gambling I get him for murder?”

“Tempting, ain’t it? You get him one way or the other. The way I figure maybe there’s something at that morgue that’s been overlooked. A fresh eye like yours is what we need around here. Hell, you gotta do something while you’re waiting for that warrant to search the Cove and that’s assuming you ever get the damn thing in the first place. Getting Ray for murder doesn’t require a warrant.”

“Shit.”

“And Ray said you and Bebe were giving each other the dreamy-eye look and as far as I know Bebe’s never had the eye or anything else for any guy around here. Go after the necklace and you’ll be working with her, not against her. Not a bad way to spend some time. Fact is, I’m willing to bet she’s over at that morgue right now.” Joe Earl grinned like a damn fool. “She’s got a personal interest.”

“You’re taking a big gamble. What if Cleveland is the murderer and I find proof?”

“He didn’t murder anyone, Donovan. I know the man better than I know myself.”

“One of the good old boys?”

Joe Earl’s grin grew and he slipped the chip in his shirt pocket. “Losing his baby girl damn-near killed Ray. He fought tooth and nail for custody of Beau from his second wife, who was a mean drunk and treated the kid like crap. Ray’s the best, you’ll see.”

“Or he’s been pulling the wool over your eyes for years, involved in more than you can imagine including murder for the necklace and laughing all the way to a bank in the Grand Caymans with the money he pulls in from the gambling casino and other stuff he’s probably involved in that you have no idea about. That’s how it works. Gambling is never just that. It’s drugs and guns and smuggling and anything else that makes a dirty buck.” Donovan snagged up the necklace photo. “I know gangsters, Joe Earl. They’re more than what they seem. My bet’s on the Caymans.”

Donovan trotted down the steps to his car. Ray Cleveland was guilty as a priest in a whorehouse, Donovan was sure of it. Just look at what was going on with the guy. There was a murder and Cleveland’s name comes up; there’s a missing necklace and Cleveland’s name comes up; then the gambling and Cleveland is there front and center. No way was this guy pure as the driven snow like everyone thought. In Donovan’s world coincidence was a word people used when they couldn’t come up with the truth or didn’t want to face it.

Donovan remembered to circle right around Oglethorpe Square, Lafayette, then Calhoun and yield to oblivious tourists, orange trolleys, horse-drawn carriages, and every other damn thing going less than five miles an hour and that was pretty much the whole city. He pulled into the driveway beside the morgue and parked behind Bebe’s Cruiser. He made for the front door, which needed a varnish job and new hardware. Knocking, he tried the door. Locked, and no one answering.

So where the hell were St. James and Sisters? Weren’t they supposed to be mixing concrete for that porch and painting? And where were the Italian brothers who owned this derelict? And why in flipping hell was Bebe here alone with a murderer running around? Sly had done the same damn thing, going into a warehouse alone, without backup…without Donovan.

His insides turned to ice. There was already a suspicious fire and somebody had been in here yesterday. Donovan’s palms began to sweat. Fuck!

He headed for the doors under the collapsed portico where he and Bebe had made out. That sure was a better time than this. “Bebe?” The doors were unlocked…double fuck…he ran in. “Bebe? Where the hell are you?” Red dots marred the white marble floor. Blood? Blood! His vision blurred and he saw Sly lying facedown, still and alone. Heart pounding, Donovan followed the dots to the main hall and then into the kitchen with Bebe bent over, staring into the guts of an open fridge. “What the hell are you doing?”

She spun around, eyes wide, a leg of chicken in each hand. “What are
you
doing here?” Least that’s what he thought she said; hard to tell with a mouthful of chicken.

“Trying to keep you from getting yourself killed.”

She swallowed. “It’s cholesterol, McCabe. I’ll take Lipitor. Chill.”

“Why didn’t you answer me when I called for you? There’s blood on the floor. Shit! Fuck! Hell!” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration and basic gut-clenching fear as she gazed at him as if he’d lost his mind. He added, “We’re partners, dammit. Partners.”

“That blood’s probably raspberry filling from a doughnut. I was hungry. It’s lunchtime and I didn’t get to finish my eggs or anything else at the Cove, thanks to someone right in this very room.”

She pointed a chicken leg toward the fridge. “And my head was in there and I was concentrating on Anthony’s cooking, which is to die for…not literally…so don’t go flipping out on me, okay? And I get that we’re partners, even if I don’t want to be, but I’ll share the food with you.” She held out a chunk of chicken to him. “But you’re going to have to do something terrific to get me to share the double chocolate cake with butter icing. There’s only one piece left. And I ask you, why would someone who can cook like Anthony and Vincent want to open a mortuary? I don’t get that at all. It makes no sense, not one bit. Got any ideas on what’s going on?”

She was fresh, energetic, and genuine with a spot of cream chicken gravy on her chin and standing right in front of him looking bewitching as hell. And he could have lost her. He could have lost his partner. It could have happened all over again. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard, her mouth yielding easily to his. This time kissing Bebe wasn’t to reassure her against a blast from Dara but to reassure himself against what could have been. She tasted warm and wonderful and alive and felt every inch a woman.

His insides caught fire against the ice. The chicken legs dropped to the floor with a soft plop and Bebe’s eyes widened right in front of his own. “Okay,” she said, her lips to his, her breath hot. “That’s…that’s pretty terrific all right. I think you win, you get the chocolate cake.”

“Forget the cake. I want you.” That surprised the hell out of him…the saying part, not the wanting part. “The question is do you want me?”

“Define want.”

He bunched up her skirt.

“We work together. You’re after Cleveland. We’re in the middle of a kitchen, and anyone can come walking in on us and for the love of Pete, you’re a Yankee!”

“Is that a yes or a no?” He wedged his leg between hers, inching hers apart.

“You’re serious.”

He slid her up onto the wood kitchen table, her bare thighs skimming his hips. Her eyes widened more as he freed his erection from his jeans.

“Well, I’d say that is, uh—” she swallowed “—seriously serious.”

“I’m taking that as a yes.” He pulled a condom from his wallet, covered himself, and in an instant he buried himself inside her.

“Yes!” She gasped. “Ohmygod, yes!”

T
he cove sparkled in the final rays of sunlight as BrieAnn stood on the dock at the Cove watching Beau steer his boat her way. It kissed the pilings with masterful grace and ease, as if making love to it, as if…Okay, that proved beyond a doubt that she was obviously sex deprived or she wouldn’t be thinking about a boat making love to a dock. Why the heck couldn’t Beaumont Cleveland kiss her that way…tender, meaningful, like a pro! What was wrong with him? What in blazes was wrong with her?

She looked at her tan capris and teal blouse and new strappy sandals. And she had new highlights and a tight tummy she worked out four days a week to keep even though she hated, hated, hated to the depths of her soul exercising. What did LulaJean have that she didn’t? Bigger boobs! Was Beau a boob man? Was that it? She looked down at the girls. They weren’t that bad. There was some cleavage there, somewhere. She undid another button.

“Well now, this sure is a pleasant surprise.” Beau gave his heart-stopping, knee-weakening grin as he jumped to the dock and tied off the lines to secure the boat.

She held up a basket and forced a smile and the forcing part didn’t come from not liking Beau Cleveland…heck, she was crazy nuts about the guy…but it was a little iffy the way the rest of the evening might play out. “Hi, Beau. Hope your daddy’s doing well and you had a good day out there on the water. Spring sure is a lovely time of year here in Savannah, don’t you think? Want to take me for a spin and we can find a nice deserted beach and…picnic?” Or talk about the first thing that pops up and, merciful heaven, a certain part of his anatomy had to do that sooner or later, didn’t it?

He raised a brow at all her chatter. Nerves did that to a woman. He said, “You’re not throwing in the towel on me?”

It wasn’t for the lack of trying to put the man out of her head, but Beau was too handsome with all those outdoor military muscles that hadn’t vanished because he’d been home almost two years now. And he was too sweet with bringing her little presents like the blue earrings he said were a perfect match for her perfect eyes, and just too darn nice of a guy all around. She held up the basket, making it do a little dance. “I don’t give up, Beau Cleveland. I’m a hound with a bone and you might as well get used to it.”

He flashed that smile that made her weak in the knees and the brain. “Sounds good to me, sugar.”

“Oh I hope so, Beau. I truly do. You just need to keep that thought.” Before he could question the last part, which sort of slipped out of her mouth due to a bad case of stress, she swung her leg over the boat hull. “Okay, sailor boy, I’m ready. Let’s get a move on.”

“Actually it’s marine, and it’s getting late, and why don’t we just eat here on the docks? The marshes can be tricky at night and—”

She grabbed a fistful of his soft cotton polo shirt with the outline of a flying gull on the pocket and yanked her marine right off balance, his face an inch from hers, eyes wide, lips yummy. “We won’t go far, okay. Just get in.”

“Must be some picnic.”

“It has potential.”

He climbed in and she placed the basket next to the railing, letting it teeter on the edge.

“Honey, that’s going to fall right in the water and all the great fried chicken I smell will be nothing but fish food.” Beau grabbed for the basket, and, as he did, she slipped a handcuff on his wrist and the other on the railing, clamping them both down tight. For a split second Beau was speechless staring at the handcuffs. She was kind of speechless, too, staring right along with him.

“Well, I went and did it. Been practicing all day since I swiped them from Bebe.”

“You stole handcuffs from a cop?”

“I gave her my eyebrow pencil and mascara, we’re even.” His gaze met hers, and she took a step back and jutted her chin. “I’m sex-napping you, Beau Cleveland. It’s for your own good. Or maybe my own good. That part’s a little fuzzy. Now you just sit right down back here and let me do my thing.” She made for the steering part of the boat that was called some name she couldn’t think of at the moment.

“Wait. What are you doing? You can’t drive this boat, Brie. It’s getting dark. There are shoals, jetties.” She could hear him yanking on the cuffs, but they didn’t budge. Only the best for the Savannah PD. “Why are you doing this?”

She turned and held her arms out wide. “Because I’m baffled. I don’t know what’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with this?”

“Nothing.”

“See, there it is in a nutshell, one little word sums it all up. Nothing. That’s exactly what happens when we’re together. We go out on the town, we have fun, you see me to the door, fidget on one foot, then the other, kiss my cheek, and leave. This time there’s no leaving, Beau. You are looking at an overwrought woman here. I’m…horny. There—I said it, and it’s true no matter how embarrassing it is and, Lord have mercy, I’m going to fix this situation tonight once and for all.” She climbed out of the boat and undid the dock lines.

“Look, Brie, I know things between us have been a little strange, but—”

“Little? Strange? You’ve got the reputation of being the Casanova of Savannah and cities beyond and all I get is hearing about the reputation and I get none of the proof.”

“I’m cursed, that’s the whole darn trouble, and I’m going to make it right. I’ve talked to Prissy and we’re going to undo this spell I’m under and this here is not some little bass boat you’ll be driving. The
Shindig
has four-hundred-sixty horsepower and a fuel injection engine and—”

“And I can handle it.” Brie climbed back in. “I graduated first in my Boats-for-Babes class. I took it for just this occasion. The instructor kept hitting on me, so his grading may have been a bit biased, but I’m sure I can do fine.” She turned the little silver key, powered up the motor, feeling the big engines rumble under her feet, up her legs, even between her legs. If all went well she’d have Beau in that very position doing some rumbling of his own and it better be a nice big hard engine doing that rumbling. Oh sweet mother, she got hot and sweaty at the thought!

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go, Brie, just let me drive.”

“You had your chances, Beau. Now it’s my turn to do some driving,” she yelled over the engine. “I have no intention of going to Milwaukee for some infernal medical convention with a man I don’t give two licks for. I’m not listening to you, Beau. Not one more syllable. Lalalalalala,” she bellowed to drown out his protests. As she eased the throttle thingie, the boat glided forward too fast. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap what had she gotten herself into?

“For crying in a bucket, girl, don’t hit Ray’s Donzi! He’ll skin us both.”

“You’re making me nervous here!”

“Things aren’t any better back here!”

Missing the Donzi by a hair, she headed out into the channel and remembered to breathe and be calm. A crane swept low, an osprey stood in the marsh grass, shorebirds scampered over the mudflats, and she could hear Beau snorting and grumbling behind her. Long shadows fell across the water as the sun dropped below the horizon. Her stomach dropped to her toes as the river split into a Y. “Which way? Which way?”

“Where are we going?”

“Cabbage Island.”

“Port. That’s left. Go left.”

“I know it’s left.” She’d been out here before, but the driver knew the rivers and she hadn’t paid any attention. She should have paid attention! She took the right fork and the river narrowed.

“I said left. Left, left, left! Port!”

“I thought you were lying because you’re pissed.”

“You got the last part right. Dammit, Brie, undo these cuffs.”

“I hid the key. It’s in my panties. I can’t let go of this wheel to get it or we’ll run aground.”

Holy shit! Beau felt his pissed-offness fade as it was replaced by visions of a little silver key hidden in Brie’s panties! The river narrowed again as the boat rounded the bend and then slid to an easy stop, the engines still rumbling, bow up, transom down. Eyes huge, Brie glanced back to Beau. “What just happened here?”

“Kill the engine, Captain Ahab. Land ahoy.” If he’d told her to stop the boat a minute ago they wouldn’t be in this mess. But then she went and mentioned her panties and he couldn’t put two words together and all his thoughts were about areas below her waist.

She turned off the engine; the quiet of the night marsh settled in along with the no-see-em’s. Brie smacked at something biting her neck and all Beau could think about was how he wanted to do some biting of his own.

“Can’t I just go in reverse and back the boat up to get us out of here?”

“You’ll tear off the prop and screw up the out-drive. I can’t call someone to pull us off in the dark. They’ll just wind up getting stuck out here, too. It’s low tide.” He glanced around. “And we seem to be in the middle of nowhere, so there’s no one here to help get us off this sandbar.”

“Well, this is not Cabbage Island and not what I had planned at all.” Brie drummed her fingernails on the steering wheel and sighed. “But I suppose it will just have to do. Like my mama always said, bloom where you’re planted, and right now we’re planted wherever this is.” Her tone had a sassy sound he hadn’t heard before, making his mouth go dry.

“What’s going to bloom?”

“Us, Beau Cleveland, or I’m going to die trying.” She pursed her very sweet lips and batted her lovely eyes. “I’m mighty sorry about getting your boat stuck, I truly am. I never did that in boat class.” She smacked at something on her ankle. She had great ankles. “These Low Country piranhas are eating me alive.”

“I sure can’t fault them for wanting to do that.”

She broke into a laugh, the sweet sound making his heart dance. Her eyes twinkled in the last rays of sun, suddenly making this whole mess worth while. Hell, maybe this would work? Maybe getting out of Savannah was just what they both needed. He pointed to the cabin. “There are lanterns below that will chase the bugs. Undo me, I can help.”

“I can do this. You just stay put.” She returned with three lanterns as he stuffed the last of a brownie in his mouth and licked his fingers.

“Hey, that was supposed to be dessert.” She lit a lantern, the soft glow cutting into the falling night. “Then again—” she turned and blew out the match with a seductive pucker “—maybe I should be dessert.” And BrieAnn Montgomery, the judge’s perfect daughter, stepped out of the sexiest sandals God saw fit to allow on this here earth and purred, “Wanna play find the key with me, Beau?”

His heart revved faster than the engines on this boat ever could and when she slipped off her top and tossed it over his right shoulder, leaving her in a tiny little black bra, he nearly passed out right there on the deck.

“You like?”

He’d answer, except there wasn’t a drop of spit left in his mouth. Lantern light turned her skin golden and the sound of her unzipping made him hard to the point of pain. He’d wanted BrieAnn for so long the frustration was torture. Then her slacks pooled at her ankles, leaving her in lacy panties, adding to his agonizing situation. It took every bit of self-control he had to keep from jumping her sweet body this very minute…except he was cuffed to the railing, so he wasn’t jumping anywhere.

“So tell me, Beau Cleveland, does that bulge I see in your jeans mean you’re pleased as punch to see me, all of me, though I haven’t gotten to the all part yet?”

And he’d die right on the spot when she did!

She sashayed in front of him and bent over, giving him a soft wet kiss and a glimpse of great cleavage with nipples peeking under lace. “You want to come find that little ol’ key now?”

“Lord have mercy, Brie, you are something else. You’re perfect. Every strand of hair, every square inch of incredible skin. Your eyes, your lips. You are…” Perfect…the word stuck in his throat and gripped his chest tighter than a churchgoing bow tie. She cupped his erection, least it should have been his erection.

“Beau?” Her eyes went huge and not from passion but disbelief and he felt the same way. Dammit!

“What happened? It’s…wilted. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He took her other hand and looked her in the eyes. “It’s me and not you and this sucks and I have no control over it. You are gorgeous, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…and I’ve seen some…and—”

“Beau I do not want to hear about the other women you’ve seen and more then likely been ready, willing, and able for.” She stepped back and folded her arms. “That’s it. I give up. This is never going to work, we’re never going to have sex, and I want to go home. I’d say you’re gay, Beau Cleveland, except half the female population in Savannah would laugh themselves to tears over that one, because they’d never believe me. And no matter what you say, it is something to do with me, or you and me together. Whatever, but something’s not working the way the Almighty meant it to.” Her gaze zeroed in on his nonperforming crotch. “Not working right one bit.”

“I think it’s some voodoo curse,” he rushed on to give this situation some explanation. “Ex-girlfriend’s went and laid it on me, that’s got to be it.”

“Do not mention the word ‘laid’ in my presence.” She jammed her right arm into her blouse, then the left, and yanked on her pants. “So what are we going to do all night? I had plans, big plans, and the big part is obviously not happening anytime soon.”