How to Kill Your Boss (22 page)

Franklin didn’t look at me. “I got the call.”

My insides clenched liked I’d been punched in the gut. “What does that mean?”

Dropping to his knees on the floor in front of me, he clutched my hands. “It means this ends today. I take them out. We go home.” His fingers tightened around mine in a reassuring squeeze.

A heavy blanket of dread suffocated me. “Are you leaving me here alone?”

“I’ve got two men outside and Detective Waters is on his way. He wanted me to bring you to the station regarding the Wallace shit. I told him if he wanted to talk to you, he’d have to come here. It must be important because he agreed to be blindfolded on the drive in.”

Why did that tickle my fancy? I didn’t envy the grumbling the driver would endure. “Was that absolutely necessary?”

“To keep you safe? Hell yes, it was.” He smirked. “It was mostly to fuck with him, though. God, I love my job.” Franklin grinned wider than I’d seen in days.

“Franklin?” What could I say? Everything about this situation made my head spin and my heart twist.

He studied my face. “Don’t worry, Killer. I’m the best at what I do. They won’t see me coming. I’m in. They’re dead. I’m out.”

Such confidence. “Wow. Don’t sugar-coat it or anything.”

“Kiss me,” he ordered, leaning closer.

I clapped a hand over my mouth. “I have morning breath,” I muttered through my fingers.

He pried them off my lips. “Kiss me.”

I did, pouring the full weight of my nervous energy into it. I scooted to the edge of the mattress, wrapped my legs around him and locked my ankles.

He stood, taking me to the dresser where he retrieved his belt.

“Did I ever tell you how much your suit turns me on?” I whispered in his ear, right before pulling the lobe between my teeth.

Franklin smacked my bare bum. “If I remember correctly, you said my ass in my suit pants turns you on.”

“I hate you, but I do love your ass.”

Strong fingers dug into my rear and he returned me to the bed.

“Where’d the suit come from? You keep your safe houses stocked?”

He laid over me and nuzzled my breasts, then my neck. “Colleagues brought it. I had them get new clothes for you, too.” He pointed to the black shopping bag perched on the slipper chair in the corner of the room.

“Thank you.” I admired his attire, but it didn’t seem fitting for his line of work. “You always work in a suit?”

He nibbled my chin before pushing off and sitting back on his heels. “I do. My girlfriend thinks they’re hot.”

Yes, she did. I rubbed a foot over his chest, scrunching his shirt with my toes. “I imagined you in combat gear.”

He chuckled and leaned back over me, cupping my cheeks. “I’m not going into battle. Most of what I do, I do from a distance. If the situation requires tactical gear, I’ll change at headquarters.” He looked at me long and hard. Promises of naughty pleasure burned in his eyes. “When I come back, why don’t we try that hanging-you-on-the-wall thing we discussed on our first date?”

Holy cow. I blushed. “I don’t do kinky shit,” I teased, trying to hide my smile.

His lips grazed mine. “Who says it’s kinky?”

“I say.” I slid my hands up the tensed muscles of his torso, his chest, and around his neck. I laced my fingers and pulled his forehead to mine. “Please don’t go. Send somebody else.”

His shoulders tensed. “It has to be me.”

I wouldn’t be needy and clingy. I wouldn’t. I pulled him in for one last kiss and pushed him off me.

“Go, I’ve got important things to do, like get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Franklin backed his way to the door. “God, you’re gorgeous. Look at you, naked and sprawled on the bed.” Behind the playful facade, which was solely for my benefit, lay a deadly conviction. He had work to do. I was a distraction. The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of any internal struggle.

With a tight fist, he pounded the doorframe one, two, three times, as if pumping himself up to leave. “See you soon, Killer.”

“Bye, Frankie.” I blew him a kiss and held the rising panic at bay until the door closed downstairs. I ran to the window and peeked through the curtain. Three men in equally impressive suits ducked into the car with him. He wasn’t alone. The dark shadow of worry brightened to a bearable shade of unease.

I took a quick shower. By the time I headed downstairs, Leland sat at the kitchen table with a pot of coffee.

“Tatum,” he grumbled.

“Good morning, Leland. We back to first names?” I grabbed a mug from the counter, then sat across from him and filled my cup.

His brown eyes darkened to black. “Morning,” he snapped, hitting me with equal shots of scrutiny and chastisement.

Ouch. “I can see you’re still angry with me. I’m sorry.”

He sat back and crossed his arms. “I’m not here to discuss that.”

“I know.” I blew steam from my mug and savored the first yummy sip as it danced across my taste buds and slid down my throat.

“Listen. Franklin has made sure you’re untouchable right now, and that’s a good thing. It buys me time. But you should know we found more compromising emails on Wallace Cruse’s home computer. When we searched his bedroom, there were photos of you in his nightstand. They weren’t explicit, but a red flag nonetheless. There were blond hairs in his bed. Also, security footage shows you heading to the roof the morning of his murder, about fifteen minutes before he did.”

I’d been to the rooftop garden plenty of times. I ate my lunch up there when the weather would allow. Wallace went first thing every morning. I hadn’t a clue what he did up there. Never cared enough to ask. “That’s impossible. I was home.”

Relief washed over his face. “I believe you. Now help me prove it.”

Should be easy. “Franklin can tell you.”

“He can’t, Tatum. Whatever branch of the government he works for, it’s so high up, he doesn’t exist. He can’t be connected to you or this investigation in any way.” Crap. Who in the world had I fallen for? If Franklin couldn’t help me, I was screwed.

“Did you check the security cameras at my building?” I rubbed at the sharp pain darting up the back of my neck.

“Yes. They haven’t worked for months.”

“Shit.” My head throbbed. “Somebody is setting me up.”

Leland rubbed his thumb up and down the handle of this mug. “I believe so. The pieces are coming together too smoothly.”

“Why?” What the hell had I done to anyone? “I don’t understand.”

His eyes saddened. “Tatum, there’s another piece to the puzzle that makes you look guiltier than sin. Wallace Cruse left his earthly belongings to you. Including Cruse Investigations.”

* * * *

I wrapped the bandage around my finger and flexed to test the blood flow. Leland dropped the last pieces of the shattered ceramic into the trash.

“Thanks.” I dropped my butt into the chair.

He grabbed a new mug from the cupboard and poured me a fresh cup. “Sorry, I should’ve dropped that bomb when your hands were empty.” He shook his head in fatherly disapproval.

I plopped my elbows on the table and my chin into my palms. “Why, in the name of all that’s holy, would Wallace leave anything, let alone everything, to me? It doesn’t make sense.”

Leland’s chair creaked when he sat. “I wondered the same thing. Obligation, maybe?”

“Could be. He kissed dad’s ass like nobody’s business. He has family. A sister somewhere on the east coast. Why not her?”

“I checked into that. They’re estranged. Have been for twenty years or so. Listen Tatum, you have any idea who would want Mr. Cruse dead? Angry clients? Jilted lovers?”

I knew zilch about his love life. Yuck. “Nobody I’m aware of. Have you questioned Nan Cummings? She was closer to him than anyone.”

He blew a puff of air. “That woman had plenty to say.” He didn’t elaborate. I didn’t push.

“When’s the funeral?” I asked.

“This weekend. I’ll do my best to keep you out of jail if you want to attend.”

“My mother would like to be here. It’d be nice to keep her out of the loop. She’s under enough stress taking care of my grandfather. I don’t want her to worry about me.”

Leland nodded in understanding. “Franklin asked me to look into Jay Masters. I’ve dug up a bit of information. It’s disturbing to say the least.”

I wrapped my fingers around the warm mug to chase away the sudden chill. “Okay, spit it out.”

“The kid was in and out of psychiatric hospitals from high school on. Claims he’s been shadowed by a ghost since he was fifteen. He finished a long stint at Western State nine months ago. There have been several sexual assault charges filed against him, but they never went to court.”

Rich kid like him? Mommy and Daddy probably swept his shit under the rug and made it disappear. “His parents are wealthy. I’m sure they persuaded the girls to settle.” Crazy house, huh? Jay had always been one of the more aggressive boys at school. I’d assumed it was his football player mentality. “So, why me? I haven’t spoken a word to him since ninth grade.”

Leland tapped his sugar spoon against his cup. “Not sure. I’ll keep digging.”

“What happens when Franklin returns and I’m no longer on lock-down?” I already knew the answer. Didn’t like it, not one bit.

Leland rose and buttoned his corduroy blazer. “We wait for the DNA results.” He looked at me with reassuring eyes. “I don’t want you to worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

I wanted to hug him but it didn’t seem appropriate. So, I settled on a handshake. “Thank you, Leland.” I believed him. I did, but there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I would wait around for others to clear my name.

I watched until Leland and his escort disappeared down the long gravel driveway. When they were out of sight, I explored the large house. There wasn’t much to it. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms. A simple, yet large kitchen and…ooh! A freezer full of ice cream. Oh, that man of mine was going to get lucky. I performed a happy dance in front of the fridge. Then I got busy hunting down a bowl and spoon. Nothing like chocolate, almonds, and marshmallows to drown your troubles.

My heart dropped to my toes when the doorbell chimed. I scurried to the front door and peered through the little hole. One of the men in suits waited outside. I yanked the door open. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, ma’am. Mr. Reed asked that we give you this.” He handed me a disposable cell phone. The guy was all business. Not a lick of warmth on his face or in his tone.

“Um, thanks.” Would it hurt him to smile? “Want to come in for coffee or ice cream?”

“No, ma’am. We’ll be right outside if you need us.” He returned to his post on the bottom step of the porch.

I barely made it back to the kitchen before the phone buzzed in my hand. “Hello?”

“Hey, Killer.”

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Do you miss me yet?” he asked in a low gravel.

Oh, yes. I did. “No. Not yet,” I teased with a devil-may-care tone. “I’ve been busy. Did you get the bad guys?”

“I’m about to. I needed to hear your voice.”

I swallowed hard and pictured his face. Magical eyes, carved lips, the small bump on his nose. “Franklin.”

“Yeah, baby.” That voice. Even through the phone it held the power to turn me into a puddle of goo.

“Don’t get shot.” I wanted to say so much more. I wanted to travel through the phone and kiss him hard. “It’d be a shame to mess up your gorgeous face. I hate you, but I do love your face.”

His low chuckle made me miss him even more. “I love you, too, baby. See you soon.” The call ended and I exhaled.

He did love me. I could feel it. Even from miles away. The mystery man loved me. He was, at that precise moment, throwing himself into the line of fire to save my ass. With nothing but an afternoon full of waiting ahead of me, I grabbed my bowl of creamy heaven, turned on the Lifetime Channel and curled up on the couch for a chick-fest of cheesy movies.

* * * *

I woke with a start, heart pounding, eyes searching for something familiar in the dark void. Franklin’s scent lingered but I didn’t feel him near.

I sat up for a good stretch and heard the shower running upstairs. Like a cat on the prowl, I tiptoed up the steps, removing my clothing as I ascended. I entered the bathroom and stopped dead.

Franklin stood under the water, palms pressed to the wall, head hung low between his arms. His torso stretched taught, revealing impossible layers of muscle. I’d never tire of the sight of him. The more I absorbed his beauty, the more I craved.

Water cascaded down his back, drawing my perusal to his rear. The flex and stretch of his butt and legs were the worst kind of temptation, inciting dark and dirty urges that made me blush.

I wiggled free of my panties and stalked toward the man who’d reduced me to a wild animal in heat. I slid the glass open and stepped into the wall of steam.

He didn’t look up, but his gravel reached me from between his arms. “Killer. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” I slid my hands up his back, danced my fingers over the dips and curves of his muscles. Working my way around his ribs to his chest, I pressed my breasts against his back, marveling at the heat he radiated.

With a loud sigh, he turned and enveloped me. I raised my chin and nibbled from his neck to his square jawline. He lowered his face, capturing me with a heady gaze before drawing his lips to mine.

I melted into him and submitted to every prod of his tongue, every stroke and suck. Putty in his hands, or lips rather. He kissed me soft and slow, trailed fingers up and down my frame.

Aching to be filled by him, I broke our kiss and bent to my knees, gripping his buttocks on the way down. Before he could react, I licked the length of his erection from base to tip, triggering a groan that set my blood on fire.

I’d never performed oral sex. Hadn’t a clue what to do. But something about Franklin and what he did to my body, inside and out, made me want to pleasure him in every way. It just seemed natural and necessary. I kissed the tip of him, wrapped my lips around the shiny crown and, one slow stroke at a time, took him deeper inside me. His length and girth made it nearly impossible to find a rhythm. Or maybe it was my lack of experience.