Playing with Fire (19 page)

The graveside ceremony was blessedly brief. She dropped the traditional white rose on the casket, turned, and walked away. It saddened her she felt nothing, not even regret.

“Cassie.” Barry Dangler hurried to catch her. Had he been at the service? She didn’t recall seeing him. He huffed as he jogged to where she stood. “Here.” He handed her an envelope. “The list of items we catalogued the night Diane was killed. You sounded like you wanted this right away, so I thought I’d bring them with me.”

“Thank you.” She almost choked on the words.

“If you want to come by and see them for yourself, just call me.” He stopped to catch his breath. “Here’s the last piece of advice I’ll try to offer you. Leave it alone. Go back to Tampa. You won’t be doing yourself or anyone else any favors by pushing this thing.”

She gave him a hard look. “Doesn’t it bother you that it’s been six years and you’ve never found even one lead to who killed her?”

“No.” His face was set in a hard look. “I know who killed her. One of these days, I’ll break his alibi, and we’ll have him.”

“After all this time?” She was flabbergasted.

“I’m a patient man.”

“Why didn’t you tell Griffin the baby wasn’t his?” She threw the words at him like darts.

Dangler showed no reaction. “I was sure he knew. That’s why he killed her.”

“Well, he didn’t,” she spat at him, climbing into her car. “Maybe it’s time for you to start looking somewhere else.”

Her tires squealed as she pulled away from the curb. Her head was pounding again, and her rage was so fierce she could almost touch it. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, blurring her vision, until she pulled off onto a side street and gave vent to all the stored-up anguish. She cried until her eyes ached and her chest hurt, beating the steering wheel with clenched fists. A long time passed before she was calm enough to start the car again.

She lay soaking in the bathtub, every bit of strength gone, when Griff called her name.

“Up here,” she yelled.

He took one look at her and kneeled beside the tub. “Not the best of days, was it?” He smoothed stray curls away from her forehead.

“That’s no lie. I have stuff to tell you, but not now. I’m too exhausted to think.”

He cared for her as he would a sick child, with a tenderness she would never have thought him capable of. He let the water out of the tub, lifted her out and dried her with a gentle touch, then found one of his large T-shirts and slipped it over her head. She stood, unresisting, while he ministered to her.

When he was through, he carried her to her bed, slid her under the covers, and lay down beside her. Cradling her in his arms, he crooned soft words to her until she dozed off.

The room was dark when Cassie woke up. She was aware Griffin’s body was still spooned against hers, his arm thrown over her hip. She moved slightly, and in an instant he was alert.

“Better?” He brushed her hair back from her face.

“Much.” She laced her fingers through his, so grateful for the feeling of his warm skin, his hands so tender and magical.

“Lousy day, right?”

“Worse than most.” She turned over and sat up. “What a bunch of sanctimonious hypocrites. If I’d had a gun, I think I’d have shot everybody there.”

He chuckled. “Such bloodthirsty words from such innocent lips.”

“These people are amazing,” she told him. “I feel like I’m living someone else’s nightmare.”

He insisted she eat something, even if it was just soup. “Just eat as much as you can. If you don’t put something in your system, you’ll get sick.”

She obediently spooned the soup into her mouth and munched on a cracker.

He watched her finish it while he ate the sandwich he’d made for himself.

When the bowl was empty, she sat back and recapped the day for him. She told him about the funeral service, about Neil and Cyrus and even Donald. And about Chief Dangler and what he’d said.

Griffin’s eyes darkened as he listened, his jaw tightening when she got to the part about the chief, but he sat in silence until she finished.

“Someone killed her, and it wasn’t you.” This had become Cassie’s mantra. “And no one in this town is going to look any further to find out who it was. It’s going to be up to us.”

“We’re hardly detectives,” Griffin pointed out.

“We couldn’t do a worse job than the police have already done, which is nothing,” she replied. “Griffin, if we don’t find answers to this, it will dog us forever, and we’ll never have any peace.”

He picked her up and sat down again, cradling her in his lap. His lips touched her hair, her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. His heart thudded against her, and she spread her palm over his chest, letting the beat travel into her body.

“I’m tainted, Cassie,” he reminded her once more. “You should keep that in mind.”

“You know what?” She sat up with such suddenness she almost knocked both of them over. “That’s getting old real fast. Do you think I didn’t know who or what you were that first night I let you take me up to your bedroom? Do you think I don’t know who you are now? I’m an adult, Griffin. I make my own choices. This is one of them. How many times do I need to tell you that?”

In answer he kissed her, a gentle brush of lips at first, then harder with his tongue probing and insistent. His hands roamed over her body, touching her everywhere, branding her as his. At last, he lifted his head and looked at her. “All right, then. We go on from here. But it won’t be an easy ride, sugar.”

“If I wanted easy, I never would have walked up onto your porch that night.”

They knew one of the first things they had to do was make some sense out of the signals Cassie was getting from everyone. She thought again of all the offers to help her go through the house. Which of them had an ulterior motive? Was it more than one? Was the little clutch bag what they were looking for, or was there something else out there even more damning? If the baby hadn’t been Griffin’s, then there was a man out there with a dreadful secret to hide. A good enough excuse for killing.

They looked over the list of items the chief had given Cassie, studying it, but nothing in the catalogue of Diane’s belongings gave them any kind of hint.

“What did you do with the rest of her things after…afterward?” she asked.

“Boxed them up and gave them to your folks. I missed a few of her things, which I brought to you the other night. That’s it.

She tilted her head, forcing him to look at her. “So, good chance they’re still in this house somewhere.”

“I guess. Your mother looked like she wasn’t ever going to let go of them.”

“We have to find them. There may be something there.” She stood and carried their plates to the sink. “I can’t think any more today. Tomorrow, while you’re working, I’m going to go through this house room by room. I need to make lists anyway, what I want to keep, what I want to get rid of, stuff like that. It will give me a good chance to dig through this house again.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to wait until I get home tomorrow night?”

“No. I need to get into this. Besides, it will keep me busy during the day.”

“We should leave here after lunch on Thursday to get to the airport in San Antonio on time,” he reminded her. “When I go by my house to check on it tomorrow, I’ll pick up some clothes for the weekend. I don’t want your friends to think you found me in a homeless shelter.”

Cassie burst out laughing. “Claire could care less what you look like. She’d probably like it if you didn’t wear any clothes at all.”

“What kind of friends do you have?” He grinned.

“You’ll like Claire, and she’ll like you, and she’s the only one whose opinion I care about.”

He gathered her in his arms. “Don’t you think it’s time to go to bed?”

“Make me forget,” she whispered. “Make it all go away.”

In the bedroom, he stripped her clothes off, glad for a lack of buttons, and was out of his own in seconds and lying next to her. His hands sought the familiar shape of her breasts, his tongue probed her ear, and his hot breath whispered over her skin.

“Cassie,” he crooned. “God, touching you is like touching a flame. You make my blood boil and my skin catch fire.”

Cassie ran her hands over his lean, muscled body pressed against her side, the mat of hair on his chest teasing at the side of her arm. The rough stubble of his beard abraded her cheeks, making them instant erogenous zones. No matter where he touched her, or how, she was so aroused her body begged for satisfaction.

Needing to connect with him, she turned and reached for his cock, already hard and throbbing, the soft tip probing against the flesh of her thigh. When she wrapped her hand lightly around it, he groaned and his body tightened in response.

“Your touch is like a feather. So light but so hot. God, Cassie, I can’t get enough of you.” He laved her ear again. “Come on, sugar, talk to me. Tell me how I make you feel. It’s okay,” he murmured. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me from your heart.”

She had never dreamed of doing what he asked, of verbalizing. But then, she’d never dreamed she’d be fulfilling all her erotic fantasies with him, either. Somehow saying the things he wanted to hear cemented the connection between them even more.

“Say it, Cassie,” he urged.

“You make me feel…good.” She gasped.

“Hot?”

She nodded, her brain so scrambled she couldn’t think.

“Tell me, then.” His mouth closed over one breast, his teeth rasping the nipple, biting it, tugging on it. His hand slid down her abdomen, trailed through the silken curls, and his fingers slipped beneath her labia.

Without any urging, she opened her legs, thrusting her hips at him. “Yes, hot. Empty without you inside me.”

“Do you like my fingers inside you, sugar? Talk to me. Tell me what to do.”

“Put…put your fingers inside me. Oh, God. Yes! Like that!” She felt him slide two long, lean fingers inside her, and then she couldn’t stop talking. “Fill me with your fingers, Griff. More. More. That’s not enough.” She shoved her hips at him. “Give me more. I want you way inside me. Do it. Do it.”

She couldn’t believe she was saying these things, but Griffin stripped away all her inhibitions, all her reserves. She did want more, that soul-shattering feeling no one but him could give her.

“Inside me, Griff. Feel inside me. I’m already wet for you.”

He nudged her legs until her knees were bent and her feet were flat on the mattress. “God, you’re dripping.” He slipped another finger inside with the other two, stretching her, the muscles loose and pliable. Curling the fingers, he lightly scraped her inner walls with his nails, smiling in satisfactions when she jerked in response. “I could leave my fingers inside you forever,” he whispered, “feeling your muscles clamp around them. Your hot, slick moisture is like warm cream. Oh, sugar, you are so sweet you take my breath away.”

Cassie was wild, her senses on overload. Every coupling with Griffin seemed more intense than the last. She craved his fingers, his tongue, his thick, hard cock. There wasn’t a nerve in her body that wasn’t inflamed. The more he touched her, the more she wanted.

“Fuck me with your hand, Griff.” In her life, she had never whispered graphic, erotic words to anyone, but with Griff, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Everything he did and said excited her. “Do it. Hurry.” She pressed herself upward against his touch. “Yes. More. Oh, God, I can’t stand it anymore. Put your mouth on me. Please.”

“All right, darlin’. Let’s see if the little nub likes my tongue as much as your mouth does.” His lips closed over her clitoris, sucking it into his mouth as if he’d never let it go. When he caught it between his teeth, the bite as gentle as a fairy kiss, her hips thrust at him so hard she almost knocked him away from her.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. Her entire body seemed focused on the one little spot, jolts of electricity spiking through her, every nerve screaming at the intense stimulation.

He sucked hard, his tongue relentless as his fingers stretched her vaginal walls. When he lifted his head, his lips were slick with her moisture. Her face flushed with desire.

“You taste like fine wine, sugar. Better than anything that comes in a bottle. I could get drunk on you, Cassie, you know that?”

“Yes, yes. Drink me, Griffin. Use your mouth. Oh, God, please, please.” She was desperate in her need, her body begging for release, for satisfaction.

His fingers kept working their magic, moving her closer and closer to her peak, and all the while he crooned to her in his low rich voice.

“Sometimes, when I’m working, I think about how you taste. How you feel, like velvet and satin. I don’t know which turns me on more, darlin’—making you come wide open, so I can watch those pretty pink muscles clench, feeling you with my hand, or having you clamp tight around my dick while I spurt into you. When I think how it feels to have my dick inside you, my zipper just about pops open.”

She moved harder against his hand, moaning soft little sounds, her body arching in her frantic search for fulfillment. “Make me come, Griff. Please. Now. Now. Now.”

Her skin was slick with the sheen of perspiration, and her breasts swayed with each toss and turn. The walls of her sex fluttered against his fingers

“Come for me, Cassie.” His mouth was against her ear again, his tongue dipping and swirling. “Let me feel all that good hot liquid pour into my hand.”

His words pushed her over the edge, and she climaxed, bucking wildly, grabbing his hair, screaming his name over and over. His fingers stroked and probed and teased inside her as she came in what seemed an endless orgasm.

When the fierce movements of her body slowed, he eased his hand from her and brought his fingers to his mouth. He licked the tips.

Through slitted eyes, Cassie watched him licking her dew from his skin, and the beat of her pulse deep in her channel began all over again. She’d barely finished with one orgasm and another was already building.

With her body still throbbing with aftershocks, Griff moved over her and sheathed himself with a condom from the nightstand.