Sully grabbed a shower while Breeana slept, stepped back into his boxers, and flopped on the bed. She opened her eyes, stretched like a kitten, and snuggled against him. Sully prodded her about the change of heart. “I thought you wanted us to get to know each other better before we made love.”
“True, I did.”
“I am grateful, cookie, but how did you end up in my bed?”
Breeana smiled and poked him in the ribs with her elbow. “It was when you told me you didn’t want me parading around half-naked in front of your friends the other evening. I got hot and bothered because
you
were hot and bothered. Then I thought, if we could get sex out of the way, we could just go about our business. Micah would quit flirting with me, and you could focus more on finding the killer and less on what I was, or wasn’t, wearing.”
“Ha,” he snorted, “like that’s going to happen. Mic is a natural born flirt. He’ll keep after you like a tick on a deer. And, I’ll want to rip your clothes off every time I’m in the same room with you.”
She sighed against his neck, her lips planting a kiss there. “It could be arranged.”
Sully laughed. No other woman had ever affected him the way she did. She stunned him. She made him feel alive. She smelled like a rain forest, sultry and hot. He reached for her again, moving down her length to the juncture of her thighs.
“Your calves belong draped over my shoulders. Then there are your thighs…and…” His tongue slid home, gliding across the molten heat of her sex.
“Sully?” She moved her hands as if to stop him, stunned confusion clouding her gaze. He was beyond the point of doing the gentlemanly thing. He shackled her wrists in a gentle grip and entered her with two fingers pumping. His mouth feasted as she writhed, her hips cradling him where he nestled against her sex. Moisture gathered on his tongue, and her scent drove him wild. His fingers delved deeper and circled, giving and taking, until she throbbed like a wild thing.
Breeana whimpered as she rode to climax. He kept pace with her, laving and stroking, increasing and slowing until she shattered against him, again and again. He brought her down easy, hyped by her body’s responses and humbled by her trust. He ignored the ache in his groin as he pulled her against him and smiled. “You can tuck the purple vibrator in the back of your closet from now on. You won’t be needing it.”
As the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He knew he shouldn’t encourage her, or a relationship.
What the hell was I thinking?
Releasing a long breath, he realized he was in a world of shit where she was concerned.
****
Sully needed a solid lead on The Shepherd. The investigation had stalled, and day after day, he watched the tension build in Breeana. Hell, she barely spoke to him anymore. He passed by her bedroom door, thought about knocking, and changed direction for the kitchen.
What’s the use? She won’t answer anyway.
Theo grabbed two beers from the fridge and tossed him one. “Where’s Bree?”
“In her room, resting.” Sully sank into a chair across from his brother.
Theo twisted the cap off his beer and took a swallow. “Look, bro, you have to drag her out of there. We’ve barely seen her in days.”
“
You’ve
barely seen her?” Sully grabbed his brother’s arm. “You mean to tell me she’s holed up in there all day long, too?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you, man, except for when she’s working at the clinic. When she’s home, it’s tough pulling her out of there for meals.”
“I didn’t realize, Theo. I’ll talk to her in the morning.”
“All right, bro. Let me know if there’s anything the rest of us can do.”
It was no big surprise, because Breeana hadn’t made another appearance in Sully’s bedroom either. And while his body protested, he understood. Being separated from her family and living in fear had to be hell. No small wonder she didn’t want to talk to anyone.
She also needed sleep. Romping with him between the sheets wouldn’t give her that. Still, he wondered if she kept her distance for another reason. Was she still determined to set herself up as bait for The Shepherd? The thought stayed with him when he crashed for the night. He had the mother lode of all nightmares.
Killers and victims haunted his sleep on a regular basis, but this nightmare was different. Breeana had the starring role. She reached out to him, begged him to help her, blood spattering the white silk of her gown.
Dear Christ!
Sully snapped awake and raced to her bedroom, almost colliding with Hawke in the hallway. He just about puked with relief when he opened her door. The hallway light bathed her. Curled in on herself, she was a tight ball of nerves gripping the edge of the mattress. He sank down beside her and hauled her against him, tucking her head under his chin. He needed to hold her.
Breeana jerked awake at his touch and cracked an accusing eye in his direction. “Why hasn’t he come for me yet?”
Her voice was soft and husky from sleep. Just the sound of her tightened his groin muscles. He wanted her. He ached to touch her, to pour himself into her, to make her forget the only way he could.
Right, dirt bag. Go ahead, take advantage of her while she’s still reeling from the separation of her family and facing the prospect of being caught by The Shepherd. How about keeping your damn hands to yourself and cutting her some slack?
He clenched his jaw against the throb in his groin. “Are you so bored with life you need The Shepherd to attack you to break the monotony?”
“Don’t be obtuse. It’s the waiting that gets to me. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.”
“You’ll stand it as long as you have to.” He tunneled a hand through her hair. He wanted to bury his face in its fragrant softness, flip her over, and kiss her brainless.
“Patience was never my strong suit. I want it to be over, Sully. I want my family back!” She shoved his arms aside and tumbled out of bed, grabbed some clothes from the dresser, and padded to the bathroom.
The hallway light shone through the thin fabric of her nightshirt. Sully stifled a groan and a major jones, a reminder he was a healthy male in the prime of life who wasn’t getting what he needed. He didn’t go after her and try to calm her down. If he didn’t stand strong for her now and expect her to do the same, she would break. Then they would both be lost.
He watched her disappear before grabbing the phone and dialing Millette’s cellular. It was the middle of the night, but who cared? “I got your message. What’s up?”
“They found a floater out by the Ste-Catherine locks a few hours ago. Marie Matisse will perform the autopsy later today. Her preliminary findings are the body matches Hannah Grimes’ general physical description. It looks like another murder, Lieutenant.”
Sully cursed. “Did you find anything at her house to indicate she knew her attacker?”
“Nada. Whatever Ms. Grimes knew, she took to the grave with her. The old priest, Father Mike, is trying to put together a list of parishioners for the time the rosaries were stolen. It will take some time. St-Pat’s records aren’t computerized and the priest says only God knows where Hannah Grimes archived anything.”
“Does he remember anyone who might fit the bill for our unsub?”
Sully knew it was a long shot. His sister had already explained psychopaths rarely exposed the dark side of their personalities to ordinary folk. Still, Hannah Grimes knew something and whatever it was had gotten her killed. Maybe she had shared her suspicions with someone else at the parish.
“While the priest is big on longevity, he’s real short on memory. I don’t think he can remember what he had for breakfast this morning, let alone dig through the past. The old guy’s a touch senile. I’m afraid Hannah Grimes was the only one who could have told us anything useful.”
“Whatever she knew, she can’t tell us anymore. Keep after the diocese for the list of parishioners. Our killer’s name could be on the list.”
“Right, I’m on it.”
“How’s Sal doing with the surveillance tapes from the docks?” Sully asked.
“He’s still running license plate numbers. Nothing’s jumped out at him so far. There’s a lot of ground to cover.”
“Make sure he stays on top of it, Jacques. And call me if the lab finds anything useful on the pizza boxes or hospital evidence, including the hearse. Sooner or later, The Shepherd will screw up and leave proof of his identity behind.”
“There is one other thing,” Millette offered. “The pizza delivery guy hasn’t turned up at his apartment. No one has seen him since he delivered at Dr. McGill’s house. His friends think he’s camping at Long Sault.”
“Find him.”
“Sanchez and Lemieux are already on it. I have another lead to chase down.”
Millette hung up and Sully tossed the phone across the bed. He still had nothing but a shitload of questions and no answers. He also wondered what other lead Millette was working on. He wouldn’t put it past him to hoard information, didn’t think of him as a team player.
He rasped a hand along the stubble lining his chin. Four in the morning and Breeana was already up for the day. He might as well shower, shave, and get started himself.
Chapter Fourteen
The Shepherd snapped out of a dead sleep with a gun in his hand. Someone had tripped the silent alarm. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he headed for the back window. With a bird’s-eye view, he saw the cop right away. And recognized him.
The idiot
. He was zigging when he should be zagging to get to the front door.
Silent and steady, he slid the window wide. Easing over the sill, he dropped onto the porch roof and then to the ground. Moving with stealth, he shadowed his visitor, inching through the undergrowth running from the curb to the front of the beach house.
He watched the cop pound on his front door.
Dumb-dumb
. Did the guy really expect to be invited in for a cappuccino? When he rapped again, The Shepherd shook his head. The cop’s gaze moved to the car parked in the drive beside the house, recognition kicking in. He squinted at it a moment then swung back to stare at the door; so focused, he never heard death approach from behind.
The Shepherd’s fingers tightened on the Sig Sauer P226 equipped with a sound suppressor. The cop swiveled too late, the muzzle pressed tightly against his temple before he could make a move.
“Raise your hands and drop your weapon.”
The cop did as he was told.
“Nice try, Sergeant, but I can’t oblige you today.” Leaning in, he hissed in his visitor’s ear. “No, the Lord still has plenty of work for me to do.”
The Shepherd fired two quick rounds into the cop’s back, and then cursed himself. He should’ve made him walk to his car first. The SOB weighed a ton. As he dragged him through the underbrush, he checked his sight lines. Everything looked good. No nosey neighbors to contend with at this late hour.
Reaching the cop’s beat-up ride, he popped the trunk and heaved the body inside. A clear plastic bag lay tucked in a corner. His hospital scrubs, glasses and ID.
Yes! All wrapped up nice and neat. No evidence lying around for Sauvage to find.
He started the engine and put the pedal down, roaring away from his hideout, eventually parking on a side road near the edge of town. He left the keys in the ignition and jogged five kilometers along the water’s edge, back to his wreck of a beach house. He couldn’t be late for work today.
Breeana had to die.
****
“You look like you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet,” Breeana teased as she wandered back into the bedroom. Fresh out of the shower, she couldn’t help but stare.
Sully still sprawled in the middle of her bed. His rock-hard body drew her gaze. Even his bed-head endeared him to her. God, she had it bad for the man, but she couldn’t satisfy her cravings for him again until her son was safely home.
It wouldn’t be right; would it?
Sully wanted her. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. His manhood bulged in the front of his boxers. She knew from experience he had the equipment of a stallion. He also knew how to use it. She longed to touch him. Taste him.
She fought the sexual pull, swallowed, and almost choked on her saliva. Then she blurted the first words popping into her head. “Do you want to go for a run?”
He rolled out of bed and drew her into his arms. “Jogging isn’t the first thing that comes to mind, but I suppose it will have to do. But, let’s wait until the sun comes up…we’ll trip over ourselves in the dark.”
“What?” She peeked through the slats on the bedroom window, surprised to see it was still dark outside. Her resolve to abstain from sex vanished the instant his arms banded her. “Maybe we do have time for a quick nap.”
“Did you say quick?” Sully ran his hands under her T-shirt. He sighed, his fingers blazing a trail along the sides of her breasts. “There is absolutely nothing quick about what I’m going to do to you.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
Breeana stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. His lips slanted over hers and she surrendered. Easing her onto the bed, he followed her down. Covering her with his hard-muscled leanness, he balanced his weight on his elbows and pulled her T-shirt and bra above her head. Her arms twisted within the folds, imprisoning her in cotton handcuffs as he suckled her nipples to taut, sensitized buds.
“You are so incredibly beautiful.” His eyes raised and held hers for an instant, burning desire evident in his gaze. “Live in the moment for both of us. I need you, Bree.”
Breeana moaned as she allowed his claim on her body. His gifted hands caressed her breasts, his mouth laving her nipples. She writhed with want as he slowly, expertly tasted and explored, stimulating every nerve ending she possessed. Just as her body arched toward release—on the precipice of climax—he stopped.
He stripped out of his boxers, suited up in a condom he took from her nightstand, and smoothed a roughened palm over her rib cage. “Let’s not rush things. I have all the time in the world to take you to heaven.”
Breeana felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. “I can’t move my arms because they’re caught in the T-shirt. And you can’t get gratification if I don’t…give back.” She tried unsuccessfully to squirm from his embrace.