A big dark sedan pulled up driven by a man with his brown hair in a ponytail.
“Our ride,” Fuentes said.
They stuffed the luggage in the truck and piled into the car.
The driver showed his I.D. “Kurt Steiger, DEA. Where to?”
Charlie told him and the car sped away from the curb.
Fuentes turned around to face them. “So you made an enemy in Miami. Montgomery’s going to be gunning for somebody now that he’s awake.”
“Montgomery’s awake?” Charlie repeated. God, he’d hoped for more time. Where was a coma when you needed one? “Did his shooting make the national news?”
“No,” Fuentes replied. “Your brother called to tell me.”
Well, that was something. “But you think he’ll be gunning for me?”
“If he learns who you are. The two drug dealers he didn’t kill are probably pretty pissed, too.”
“Yeah.” Charlie hadn’t thought of that at the time.
Fuentes echoed Charlie’s thought. “What were you thinking, to steal from Dalton Montgomery like that?”
Charlie shrugged. “I was just doing my job.”
“Your brother told me your sting idea. We’d have to catch Jordan Hessler breaking the law, and I can’t see him doing that when you return the stolen relic to him.”
Charlie burned with frustration. “But he supplies drugs. That’s against the law.”
“We’ll be able to build a case against him after he gets a drug pipeline with the relic.”
“But that’ll be too late. While we’ve got the sculpture is the time to use it to catch all the crooks we can.”
“You obviously don’t understand how law enforcement works. We need evidence of wrongdoing.”
“Tell me what you need, and I can help you get it.”
Fuentes shook his head. “Turn the relic over to Hessler and get the hell out of Dodge. We’ll get a wiretap on his phone and e-mail and document the exchange of the relic for the drug pipeline. When he starts dealing, we’ll have him.”
“Just give him the keys to the kingdom,” Charlie said, unable to contain his bitterness.
“Hey, it’ll be a big bust when it finally goes down,” Steiger said. “You can be proud of making us aware of it.”
“It’s a waste of a perfect opportunity,” Charlie disagreed. “I’d be better off putting the relic in a safety deposit box for the remainder of my life. At least that would accomplish something.”
“But your way Hessler goes free. Our way he doesn’t,” Fuentes said.
“My way, a really bad guy doesn’t get what he wants.” Charlie looked at Juliana. In the passing streetlights her wide eyes showed her empathy. Damn it, he’d liked the idea she’d get to witness him play the hero. “Well, I guess I can wait to see Hessler until tomorrow then.”
“You want us to hold the relic for safekeeping?” Steiger offered. “We can lock it up with the drugs in the police evidence locker.”
Charlie felt a chill. He didn’t know these agents—they could be dirty, or the sculpture could tempt them beyond resistance. If he gave them the sculpture, they might trade it and he’d lose any opportunity he had to use it against criminals.
“I don’t have it with me,” Charlie lied. Juliana jerked against his side.
“What?” Fuentes’s head snapped around. “I thought this was all about stinging Hessler with the relic.”
Charlie felt Juliana’s stare burning into him. “I couldn’t have gotten it through airport security. God, that would have been a nightmare, sprawled facedown on the floor with a dozen guns pointed at me. I would have been locked up for months trying to assure somebody I wasn’t a terrorist.”
“Then what did you do with it?” Steiger asked.
“I shipped it. What else?”
“Pretty smart.” Fuentes’s smile gleamed in the streetlights. “It gets the relic out from under Montgomery’s nose.”
“Yeah, I thought so. So, can you wire me for sound tomorrow when I go see Hessler? You never know what he might admit. And if you’ve got a bug you can spare, I’ll plant it for you.”
Fuentes looked at Steiger before replying. “We’ll see what we can do. Give me your cell number and I’ll call you tomorrow.” He held out a business card and Charlie took it. “That’s how you can contact me.”
The DEA agents dropped Charlie and Juliana at his apartment in Van Nuys.
“Home sweet home.” Charlie tried to envision the two-story converted single-family home from Juliana’s point of view. The style was modern, its slanted rooflines, skylights, and high windows being the closest he could come to his native Miami architecture. He liked the cedar shingles and the plentiful landscaping. A few of the deciduous shrubs lent a delightful piney tang to freshen the heavy LA air.
“I thought you lived in an apartment,” Juliana said.
“I do. Mine is on the right. The owners converted the house into a twinplex about ten years ago.”
Charlie unlocked his door trying to remember if he’d left anything lying on the floor. He opened the door, turned on the light, and waved her inside.
Juliana looked around with curious brown eyes. “It’s bigger than I thought.”
“The cathedral ceilings make the space deceptive. That’s why I chose it.” He closed and locked the door. She was here. He’d wished for this day, but never thought it would happen.
She wandered from his living room into his small kitchen and dining room. “No flower pots.”
“Sorry, no room.”
“I noticed every available space is filled with books and DVDs.”
“My former craft.”
“You’re very neat.” Juliana turned to face him. “You weren’t that way at my place.”
“I only thought of one thing at your place.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And you don’t think of it here?”
“Hell, yes, I do. My God, you’re living with me for who knows how long. But this is the first time you’ve seen my life here. I’m kind of . . . nervous.”
Juliana moved close to him and walked her fingers up his arm. His fingers curled in response. “You, nervous?”
“Yeah.” He smiled at her. “I want to make a good impression.”
“You don’t need to impress me, Charlie. ‘You had me at hello,’” she quoted.
Charlie smiled even wider. “Would you like to see the bedroom?”
“See. Do. Lead on.”
He took her hand and pulled her up the stairs to his bedroom. He had made the bed, thank God. The twelve-foot wall, topped by a row of windows, made a dramatic backdrop for the double bed and sunset-patterned comforter. He wished now for a king-sized bed. Another row of windows filled the side wall and looked out onto a sloping roof and grassy back yard.
“Women must be impressed by this room,” Juliana murmured as she took in the room’s details.
Charlie turned Juliana to face him. “No woman has ever been here. I moved here after Billy died.”
“Don’t your lovers wonder why you won’t take them home?”
“Juliana, I haven’t been interested in sex since Billy died. Not until I saw you in that hooker get-up. And then I could hardly think of anything else.”
Juliana frowned. “You haven’t made love for two years? But you’re so good at it. You don’t seem out of practice.”
“You’re mistaking desperate desire for experience.”
She licked her lips. “Well, that explains the last few days then.” Her smile spread across her face like the sun rising. His heart lifted.
“I think we need to divest you of clothes and the sculpture so we can get busy christening this bed.”
“And the rest of the apartment,” he added, hope rising as well as his cock.
“One room at a time. Starting here.” Juliana reached for the large chambray shirt he had on over his T-shirt.
Charlie allowed her to remove it. She tossed it to the floor. Next they pulled his shirt over his head, uncovering the sculpture and all the rows of black electrical tape.
She pursed her lips and found one of the ends on the bottom row. Tugging, the tape came off as soundlessly as it had gone on. It pulled on his skin but didn’t hurt. She gave him the strip to hold and attacked the next row. His flesh itched where the tape had been and he noticed it left a red welt on his body. He held the sculpture while she removed the final rows of tape.
“Ow!” He’d tried to prepare himself to lose a few chest hairs from the last row, but that clump had hurt.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. At least I didn’t have more.”
When the sculpture was free, he handed it to her so he could rub at what appeared to be a bruise. Damn those Miami narcs.
“This thing has a bloody history,” Juliana breathed, frowning.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean a lot of people died getting this sculpture, stealing it, hiding it.”
“You can see it?”
She nodded, staring at the sculpture. “It contains echoes, powerful echoes. It’s old.”
“Then it really is a relic?”
“Yes. So many faces. Such greed. Such evil. I feel touches of good, but they don’t last long. A period of darkness that lasted until recently, when it must have been found. Charlie, every time someone evil had it in their hands, they believed it held power.”
“And that’s why the drug lord wants it? Because he believes what those others believed?”
“It must be.”
“Does it contain power?” Charlie couldn’t believe he’d asked that question.
“No. The power was in what the people who held it believed. And evil men can become very powerful with evil deeds.”
Charlie inhaled a breath to clear his head. “They believed, therefore they were?”
“Maybe.” Juliana shuddered and handed the sculpture back to him. “Too much blood. Too much death.”
He didn’t question her. He understood nothing about her psychic power beyond that she could find objects from photos. He laid the sculpture on his nightstand. For some reason, he didn’t want it far from the bed.
Juliana rubbed her arms. He touched her and felt her chill.
“C’mon, let’s take a shower. I need you to scrub this sticky stuff off me.” He herded her into the bathroom.
With eager hands, Juliana stripped off his khaki pants and underwear. He pulled off her knit top and jeans skirt. He took a moment to admire her matching peach underwear set. She looked delectable. He ran a caressing hand over her breasts, which made her nipples peak. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, drawing it off to reveal those mouth-watering globes. He got both hands on them while she shimmied out of her underwear.
“Charlie,” she protested in a breathy voice.
Then her hands reached between his legs and, oh, God, that felt good. His cock responded to her caresses by growing firm and thick. He barely had enough brain cells north of the border to turn on the shower and adjust the temperature.
“Umm,” he murmured into her hair. He nipped her ear.
Juliana made her own relishing noises. She had nimble, eager fingers. He thrust into her hands. Her nipples were tight points between his fingers. He was panting. Being with her always did this to him.
“Into the shower,” he managed.
They shared the soap, kissing while their mingled fingers lathered. Then she slid her eager hands over his chest scrubbing at the tape marks. His soapy hands slid over her breasts, over the tight nipples. Her breath hitched. She lifted her lips for a kiss, and he complied.
As much as he desired to fill her and make urgent love to her, he also wanted to caress and kiss her all over, and have her do the same to him. He wanted to worship her in his home and let her know she was more than a sexual vessel here in California.
Juliana turned him to scrub at the stickiness on his back. He used the opportunity to take a deep breath and try to control the need he felt only for her. Her scrubbing was practical, necessary, it shouldn’t feel sexual at all. Until her hands slid down to caress his butt. There her caresses were anything but practical. His cock throbbed with need.
As though she knew how her touch affected him, her hands left his buttocks. He sighed with relief and regret. But then they slid around his hips to grip his cock. She pressed her warm, soft body against his back as she caressed him. Charlie threw back his head and gritted his teeth. Despite his iron control, his hips thrust, driving his cock through her soapy fingers.
“That feels so good,” he groaned.
“Yes, it does.” She caressed his length. “I love your cock, how silky and strong it feels, how it feels when your first thrust enters me, how it feels as you move inside me.”
“You’re killing me.”
Her grip tightened as she stroked back and forth. “How it feels when you come.”
“Don’t.” His hands gripped hers on his cock. “I want to be inside you when I come.”
He gentled her grip and her movements and then lifted her hands away, turning in her embrace. He grabbed the soap and lathered his hands. Hers joined his on the soap. He lowered his head to give her a long, languid kiss. Their tongues touched, stroked. Her hands massaged his chest. He broke the kiss at last and held her away from him so he could slip a hand between her soft thighs.
He found the tight bud of her clit. As he stroked, she inhaled. He soaped her channel next, opening her body for the loving to come. Her hips thrust forward.
When no more soap remained, he undid Juliana’s French braid and massaged shampoo into her hair. She hummed her appreciation. Quickly he washed his own hair. Then he turned off the water and dropped to his knees in front of her.
Charlie looked up at her as water drops slid down her body over her full breasts, slender abdomen, and feminine hips, all the places he wanted to lick. With her hair wet, she looked like a water nymph here to share sexual delights with him.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her eyes were dark with desire. “So are you.”
“Lean down.”
She did and he took her breast into his mouth to lick off the drops of water. Her breathing increased as he paid tribute to her wonderful nipple, licking it as he knew she liked. When that breast was fully loved, he took the other one into his mouth. Juliana slid her hands into his wet hair and gripped his head in place. She needn’t fear he was leaving this feast.
He bit gently on her nipple. She made appreciative sounds deep in her throat. With reluctance he let her breast slide from his mouth. She had other delights he needed to explore. He sucked moisture from her abdomen, kissing her hickey, probing her naval, and then licked south.