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Authors: Debra Webb

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BOOK: Silent Weapon
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The bundle fell to the floor. He moved in closer to me, his eyes searching mine for resistance, I presumed. I could muster none. His hands came up to cup my face and I shuddered with the shivery sensations cascading over me.

I shouldn’t do this,
he murmured just before his lips descended to meet mine. His kiss was gentle, not at all like the one I’d witnessed beyond the window. He tasted hot and sweet, like cinnamon gum. His lips felt firm and velvety. At first I couldn’t move…just stood there enjoying the taste and smell of him. The feel of those firm lips moving on mine. I reached up and placed my hands against his chest, felt the contours beneath the fabric. He felt warm and hard, like I’d detected before. Muscular and male.

He drew back from the kiss and stared into my eyes. The smile that tilted the corners of his mouth made my heart flutter even more than his noninvasive kiss had. How was that possible?

He took one step back from me and reached for the PDA. I watched his big, strong hands as he entered his message as deftly as if those powerful hands had been made for such delicate work rather than what I knew for a certainty he was entirely capable of.

I accepted the PDA and read his message.
I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me for being unable to actually regret it.

I laughed softly, glanced quickly over my shoulder and was thankful the coupling had concluded. When I met Mason Conrad’s eyes again, I said, “I wouldn’t want you to regret the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had.”

Sweet.
He shrugged.
I can live with that.

I bit down on my lower lip to stem the laughter that bubbled up in my throat at his typical male reaction. No guy wanted his kiss to be called sweet, but he couldn’t know I’d understood.

I read his new message on my PDA:
I’ll try to do better next time. That is, if you’re interested in a next time.

I couldn’t say for sure what possessed me just then, but I let the PDA drop back to my side and I reached up and grabbed him by the ears. “What’s wrong with now?” I pulled him down to me and kissed him with all the crazy, mixed-up feelings churning inside me.

I’d never cared for porn movies or the whole voyeurism thing, but I had to admit that watching two people have savage sex combined with the fact I had deprived myself for more than two years had me wanting more
now.

I thrust my tongue into his mouth and explored to my heart’s content. His hands rested on my hips, but he made no move to push the moment to the next level. I leaned into him, felt my body mold to his. He was so warm and as hard as a rock. He felt big and strong and I wanted him.

With my heart slamming mercilessly in my chest, I’m certain the roar of blood had affected my ability to think clearly. I couldn’t let this…

He took the decision out of my hands and pulled back, breaking the intense connection.

I fought to catch my breath. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head and struggled to clear it. “It’s just been so long since anyone touched me.” I looked directly at him then and said exactly what I felt. “Too long. I didn’t mean to let this…” I shrugged. “To let it get out of control.”

For several seconds he just stood there staring at me. I could see in his eyes that he had enjoyed the kiss, that he wanted me, but I couldn’t read what he was thinking. Yet, I sensed the war going on inside him.

That’s a real shame,
he murmured, with no intention of my knowing his words.

He pulled the strap of the PDA over my head and set the handy device aside on the nearest shelf. I lost my breath when he reached for me again. His movements slow, fluid, he turned me around and untied the apron, allowed it to fall to the floor.

For the first time fear entered the scenario. I knew without doubt where this was headed. Could I really do this? Should I?

My hand went to my mouth and I held back a tiny cry of anticipation when he lowered the zipper of my dress. His fingers trailed over my skin, then he pushed the fabric down my shoulders and I held it there, turned to him with a question in my eyes.

I wish I could make you see that you don’t need to be afraid. That you don’t need to simply wish for something…

The words touched me so but I couldn’t let him sense I’d understood. It was so difficult not to respond.

He tugged the dress from my arms where I’d trapped it over my breasts. It puddled around my ankles. He lowered his face to my breast and suckled me through the fabric of my bra. I couldn’t push him away. I just wasn’t strong enough. I needed this more than I had realized.

The fabric that separated his hungry mouth from my breast was suddenly gone. He ushered me down to the floor. The idea that I should stop this flitted through my mind, but I couldn’t resist. I needed this so desperately.

I arched my back in anticipation as his mouth moved down my belly. My fingers got lost in his hair and I wondered how it could possibly get any better than this. When he dragged my panties down my legs and then kissed his way back up my inner thigh, I knew it was only going to get better.

His attention reached my sex and my bottom came off the floor. I whispered his name. Fought to control the barrage of fiery sensations tugging at me. I felt myself coming already. It had been so very long.

His tongue was inside me, in and out, circling my opening in slow, teasing strokes. His lips moving over the flesh on fire for him. His fingers kneaded my bottom. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I pressed my hand over my mouth and stifled the cry that accompanied my release…my first in more than two years.

When my body fell slack against the floor, he kissed his way up my rib cage, then settled against me as if my climax had cost him as much energy as it had me. He looked into my eyes a moment, then kissed my cheek.

I reached for him but he pushed up to his knees, then stood. Startled and mortified, I scrambled to find my clothes. By the time I’d pulled on my panties and bra he was gone. I slipped back into my dress and tied my apron into place. I’d need a mirror to check my face and hair.

I pressed my hands to my face, humiliation sinking fully. Now I comprehended the term
pity fuck.
Only he hadn’t actually taken it all the way, just gave me what I had been needing. How thoughtful of him.

I grabbed my PDA only then, noticing that he’d left the poor deaf maid a message.

Whenever you’re ready to do this right, let me know. I definitely want to touch you. Again and again.

I set the PDA aside and ran a trembling hand over my face. Okay, maybe it hadn’t been about pity. I wanted him like that, no question there. But was it the right thing to do? Was getting close to him going to help me learn more? Or was my desire to pursue this avenue purely physical, purely selfish? Barlow had warned me to avoid this dicey territory. He would blow a fuse if he found out…

Jesus, I had to find a way to get the information I’d just learned to him. Vargas and Cecilia were up to something and Mathers was involved.

Going back into town this soon might be a risk, but I had to take it. This couldn’t wait.

I pressed my hand to my chest. But first, I had to gather my wits…had to compose myself after my own forbidden encounter. Barlow could never know that part.

Chief Ike Adcock was an ugly son of a bitch by anyone’s standards, but as far as Steven was concerned, he was a hardhearted bastard to boot.

“I think you’re going soft on me,” Adcock offered. He leaned back in his leather executive chair and pumped up the whole I’ve-got-you-right-where-I-want-you look of triumph.

“I’m telling you she’s getting personally involved with the players and that increases the risk.” Barlow wanted more than anything in this world to climb over that desk and beat the hell out of the arrogant bastard.

Adcock straightened the lapels of his suit, the one that likely cost a month’s salary and no mere chief should be able to afford. “You said the whole operation was a risk, now you’re complaining when it actually starts to pay off. What’s going on here, Barlow?” He eyed Steven skeptically. “You letting this get personal yourself?”

The whole conversation was pointless. Steven threw up his hands. “Fine. You let her get herself killed.” He braced his hands on his superior’s desk and allowed him to see just how pissed off he was. “I’ll make sure everyone knows you let this happen.”

Adcock sat up straight, the whole good-old-boy demeanor disappearing in the blink of an eye. “Don’t you threaten me, you piece of shit. You wouldn’t even have a shield at this point if it wasn’t for that idiot Kent. You do whatever you have to do to keep her alive. If she ends up dead it won’t be anyone’s fault but yours. Now, get the hell out of my office. I don’t want to see your face again until you have something we can use to take Hammond down.”

Steven walked out of Adcock’s office without making a response. What was the use? Adcock wasn’t going to change his mind any more than Steven was.

One way or another, the next time he got Merrilee Walters away from Hammond, he had to make sure he kept her away. As badly as he wanted to win this, he didn’t want her to end up dead.

Maybe Adcock was right. Maybe he was going soft. There had to be a way to do this without getting an innocent, untrained civilian killed.

Chapter 13

G
oing out last evening had proved impossible.

The rest of the day frustration had played havoc with my ability to think clearly. When six o’clock finally arrived, Hammond had asked me to watch Tiffany for the evening so that Cecilia could join him for dinner in town.

Talk about infuriating. I’d wanted to tell him not to trust her, that she and Vargas were up to something, but, thankfully, my brain had somehow managed to fend off the stupidity long enough for me to do the right thing.

Too bad it had been a little slow on the uptake. I still couldn’t believe that I’d practically had sex with Mason Conrad.

My shuffling of magazines on the table in the parlor abruptly ceased as the images frolicked through my mind, leaving me helpless to do anything but get warm and tingly all over again.

What had I been thinking?

This assignment
did not
include having almost-sex with one of the players involved. If I’d had any question on that score, Barlow had made it more than clear in our meeting at the hot dog joint.

Why hadn’t I listened?

I puffed out a lungful of frustration and plopped the stack of magazines into a reasonably neat pile. I forced myself to move about the room, tidying as I encountered anything out of place.

My mother would say I’d lost my mind. I stilled. My mother could never, ever know about the incident. The family, those who were supposed to love me the most, would skip counseling altogether and go straight for having me committed as quickly as possible.

I glanced at the clock for the hundredth time. It read 5:58. I might as well put my few cleaning utensils away and get ready to go. Since no one had approached me to do otherwise, I planned to go into town. I swallowed back another lump of apprehension. Staying here all day, knowing what I knew, was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

Connie and Marjorie were eyeball-deep in dinner preparations when I passed through the kitchen. I hurried and put my things away in the laundry room and checked to see that the coast was clear before I went to my room. The fewer people I ran into the less likely I would get waylaid. I had to check in with Barlow, had to pass along this information.

As I quickly changed, I considered how much simpler it would be to just call him and tell him what I knew. But he and the chiefs had feared that calling from anywhere on the property, even using my nifty secure cellular phone he’d provided, wouldn’t be safe. Though I’d certainly had my moment of stupidity, I hadn’t crossed into complete idiocy just yet.

I tugged on a T-shirt, fastened my jeans and slid my feet into comfortable mules. I didn’t bother taking my hair out of the French twist I’d fashioned it into for work. I grabbed my purse, tossed the PDA into it and took a slow, deep breath before sneaking out into the corridor.

The coast was clear when I checked first left then right. Good. I slipped into the hall and headed for the front door. If Connie or Marjorie saw me out of uniform with my purse in tow, they would know I was planning to escape for a while and I would be forced to answer the inevitable questions. Where are you going, Miss Merri? Didn’t you just go out the other night? Got yourself a boyfriend in town?

I hated lying unless it was absolutely essential to my continued good health under present circumstances.

The entry hall was deserted as well. Thank goodness. I’d almost made it to the door when I felt a firm hand land on my shoulder.

To my supreme relief I didn’t jump out of my skin. I’d almost grown accustomed to having one or more of a dozen people walking up behind me when I least expected it.

My relief was short-lived when I turned and found myself toe to toe with Cecilia. From the expression on her face she was ready to launch an interrogation of her own into my activities.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t been expecting this. I’d just hoped to delay it for a little while longer.

I manufactured a smile. “I thought I’d go into town. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

For a second that turned to ten she stared at me without making a response, then as if she’d only just remembered, she held out her hand.

Keeping my cheery mask of innocence in place, I reached into my bag, retrieved the PDA and placed it in her palm.

Her movements as she entered the message were stilted as if she barely contained her anger. I braced myself for whatever she had to say. It wouldn’t be good. Her overpowering perfume offended my nostrils as it usually did. Not the cheap stuff sold at budget retail outlets. It was the hundred-dollar-an-ounce designer stuff and still I didn’t like it. Or maybe it was just her that I didn’t like. Somehow she intended to hurt Luther Hammond. Though he was no innocent by any stretch of the imagination, I despised disloyalty and this woman was as disloyal as they came. She was indifferent to Tiffany, a child, and she played the part of attentive and smitten employee in Hammond’s presence, all the while having an agenda of her own. She made me sick.

The idea that I was doing something similar sat like a stone in my stomach. That
was
different, wasn’t it?

With a glare of victory she passed the PDA to me. When I’d taken it, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for my reaction.

I know what you’re doing. It won’t work. Cut your losses or you’ll lose more than you bargained for.

For a single instant the remote possibility that she knew what I was really up to sent a twinge of panic through me, then I realized the real import of the message.

I looked her dead in the eye and said my piece, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But—” I said pointedly when she would have reached for the PDA once more “—if you’re talking about Tiffany, I would suggest that you watch your own step.”

The look on her face at that moment could only be called murderous. She snatched the PDA out of my hand and entered another message before shoving it back at me.
I’m talking about Luther, you stupid little bitch. Stay away from him or you’ll regret it.

With that potent message glaring at me from the small screen she stormed off toward the parlor. I dropped the PDA back into my purse and walked out the door.

As I climbed into my car I thought of all the things I should have said to her like, I know what you’re up to as well. I saw you and Vargas together. But I couldn’t. That would only give her more reason to want me out of the way. I had to be careful around her. I stared up at the house as I circled the drive. She had been here long before me. Her opinion likely carried far more weight. I didn’t need her going to the boss about me.

Not to mention that the boss’s daughter already knew my deepest, darkest secret. If she said anything, perhaps thinking she was defending me somehow, I would be in deep trouble. The kind Barlow had warned would get me killed. I shuddered and shifted my attention back to my escape.

Once I’d made it through the gate, leaving the cozy community of Ledges behind, I fished out my cell phone and entered his number. The screen identified his voice after the first ring.

“We have to talk” was all I had to say.

He provided the destination and assured me he would be waiting for me there. Now, if I could just get through the meeting without telling him more than he needed to know.

Our rendezvous was the safe house. The former church where we’d worked together what felt like months ago but was, in reality, just over one week ago. He made a pot of coffee and we sat at the table in the small kitchen as I related the events of the previous evening and my most recent encounter with Cecilia.

Barlow didn’t speak for a long time after I’d finished. He got up, poured himself another cup of coffee and stared out the window over the sink for a time. It would be dark soon. I felt restless. A part of me wanted to get back on that mountain. Maybe it was nothing, but it felt like something big loomed on the horizon. Some instinct nagged at me that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

Finally he turned back to me and started talking without preamble or comment on what I’d told him.

I’ve known for several months now that Hammond’s West Coast associates weren’t happy with him.

Well, that was news to me. We certainly hadn’t gone over that in the brief training session.

I felt certain there would be a move to usurp his power. I went to Adcock with my concerns and he told me to forget Hammond and get on with my life. I ignored him and monitored the situation for further developments.
Barlow sipped his coffee for a bit. I couldn’t tell whether he just needed the caffeine or dreaded saying the rest.

Nothing happened,
he went on.
Then this opportunity presented itself and you know the rest.

He was leaving something out. I could feel it. I pushed up from the table and walked straight over to him. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

For a full minute I felt certain he wasn’t going to answer and then he did.
Adcock didn’t want me digging around in this. But when I went over his head, he had no choice but to go along. He pretended the whole setup was his idea from the get-go. He’s been taking credit for it ever since.

Now, there was something I hadn’t expected. “Why wouldn’t he want to bring down Hammond?” It didn’t make sense. My gut feeling when I met Adcock was that he wanted this as much as Kent did. The fact was, Barlow was the only one who’d bucked the operation. I kept that to myself.

Barlow shook his head.
I can’t answer that for certain. I believe it has more to do with me than with Hammond. If he’d had his way, I would have lost my shield four years ago.

I’d read enough of Barlow’s case files to know he was one of the best detectives in Metro. The idea that Adcock would want to be rid of him was ludicrous. “What happened four years ago?”

No sooner than the words were out of my mouth I remembered one particular incident that had happened four years ago. The mother of Hammond’s daughter had died from an overdose of drugs.

The enigmatic detective’s lips tightened into a thin line, and he turned his back on me to stare out the window once more.

I’d obviously hit a nerve. I got up from the table and walked over to stand next to him. He placed his cup in the sink and braced his hands on the counter.

“I need to hear the rest,” I urged, in hopes of drawing him back into the conversation. I had a bad feeling about what he would tell me, but I recognized that I had to know what he was leaving out. My life might depend upon it.

He turned to me with nothing short of reluctance.
It’s my fault she’s dead.

A frown tugged at my lips. “Who?” I knew the answer but I needed him to spell it out.

Heather Masters.
He looked away a moment. When his gaze collided with mine once more I could hardly bear to look at the pain there.
She was my one mistake,
he confessed.

I watched his lips as he told me about his plan four years ago. Even back then Metro recognized what Hammond was up to. The difference was Barlow had decided to do something about it way before the bureau had gotten involved. He’d made it his mission in life to get acquainted with Hammond’s most precious plaything. A woman who’d borne him a child four years prior. Though he hadn’t married her, Hammond kept her close for the child’s sake. Barlow knew that he had other women as well. I found that odd, since I hadn’t seen him with any women, other than Cecilia.

She trusted me,
Barlow said.
We became friends first, then lovers. Hammond ignored her needs, wanted her to focus solely on the child. Treated her like a high-paid baby-sitter.

I could imagine what that must have felt like. I didn’t know the woman he spoke of, but I understood how awful the situation must have been for her.

The plan was for me to use her.
Barlow closed his eyes and shook his head.
I did get some useful information,
he admitted when he opened his eyes and continued once more.
But I got too close, took too many chances and she ended up dead.

He’d fallen in love with her. Oh, my God. He didn’t have to say it…I could see the hurt he’d suffered even now. “I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his arm and he flinched as if my touch had pained him somehow. “You think Hammond killed her?”

His gaze landed on mine again and this time it was filled with fury and hostility.
I know he did. He called me, told me where I could find the body. Warned me to stay out of his business. And there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it because I didn’t have any evidence.

His words were like a sucker punch, knocked the wind out of me. How could the man I had come to know have done such a heinous thing? Then I remembered the way he’d looked when he gave his guest those orders the day I served in his private study. Yes, he was capable of murder. Definitely. He’d killed Tiffany’s mother as well as her godfather. My God…he was pure evil.

“That’s why you didn’t want me for this assignment,” I said, the epiphany striking with the impact of a load of bricks falling right on top of me. No wonder he’d fought this operation so fiercely. He’d already been down this road.

He took me by the shoulders, shook me gently.
Don’t go back, Merri. I believe the coming hailstorm between Hammond and Mathers will take him down. I’m even more convinced after what you’ve just told me. That man you saw in the garage, he was one of Mathers’s men. His body probably won’t ever be found. Let them kill each other. I don’t care anymore.

His words left me speechless. Was this his way of trying to protect me? Was he willing to dash this opportunity to keep me safe?

All the reasons I’d had for coming into this suddenly sprang to mind. This wasn’t just about getting Hammond. This was about me. I had to do this. Had to prove I could. But no one else understood that primal need.

I moved my head solemnly from side to side. “I can’t do that. I have to finish this.”

He pushed away from me. Stormed around the room, muttering what appeared to be curses. I couldn’t be sure since he wouldn’t look directly at me. Outrage or frustration, maybe both, lined his face. Finally, hands on hips, he stalked back over to where I still waited. His nostrils flared with the anger twisting inside him. I knew I should be scared, just a little, or maybe nervous, but I wasn’t. Of all the people involved in this case, I knew without a doubt that Barlow would not harm me.

BOOK: Silent Weapon
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