Eye of the Abductor (11 page)

Brance grinned devilishly and drew
her closer, then nuzzled his mouth against her ear. His hard body against hers
made her lightheaded. His warmth radiated through her.

She couldn’t help but relax,
letting herself enjoy the dance. She inhaled his scent, a mixture of cologne
and the scent of masculine flesh. A pool of desire blazed through her.

Oh, God. Not this again.

As the band played Nat King Cole’s
Unforgettable
, they moved slowly beneath the late autumn moon. Why did
the man have to feel so right? Her heart pounded in a rampage of need, fear,
and a longing for things that she could never have.

When the music stopped, he let her
slip from the coil of his arms. She gazed at him for moment. “Dinner was
wonderful, thank you. Maybe we should go before someone suspects we've crashed
the reception.”

When they emerged from the Peabody
Hotel, horse drawn carriages waited on the street. “Have you ever taken a
carriage ride?” Brance asked.

“It’s not on my top ten list of
things to do before I die.”

“Maybe you should try doing a few
things that aren’t on your list. Come on, let’s give it a try.” He helped her
into the carriage, then tossed a blanket over them. “Warm enough?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The carriage pulled away from the
curb and the clip clop of the horse’s shoes echoed against the asphalt as they
passed the Peabody and headed toward Beale Street. Beneath the blanket, he
laced his fingers with hers and squeezed gently.

She tried to look at the Christmas
lights outlining a few shops rather than think about the man beside her.

When he snuggled closer and placed
his head next to hers, her insides turned into gooey marshmallows. Brance
terrified her. She’d feel less threatened on a date with the Terminator.

Allison didn’t like the effect
Brance had on her. His crisp fresh scent intoxicated her, and his breath
against her ear sent carnal urges spiraling through her. As the words of the
song said, he was unforgettable.

She could never let anyone near
her heart again. Though she’d married Rob to escape home, she had loved him
enough that his betrayal had left her broken.

Because Brance could win her love
so easily, he was dangerous to be with. Her entire body hummed with lust. She
wished she were the kind who could sleep with a guy and walk away, but she
wasn’t.

“I want to help you get your son
back,” he whispered in her ear, his breath searing her skin.

His words melted her heart.
“Sometimes, it seems so hopeless.”

“How's that?”

“I only have about six thousand.
That's not nearly enough. It's not just court money I need, but I need to look
like I can support Nathan financially. I’ll have to provide him a home.”

“Do you have an attorney?”

“No. I’ve spoken with a few.”

“When the time comes, let me
suggest someone.”

“Like I said before, at the rate
I’m saving money, my son will be in college before I’m prepared for court.
That’s why I decided on a real estate class. I'm hoping the economy will turn
around, and I'll make a ton of money.”

“It’ll recover. New home
construction is already up.”

"That's good to know."

He held her chin gently with one
hand and lowered his mouth to hers, his breath sweet and fresh. In the cold
air, his lips were warm and soft. The kiss lingered for a few moments until the
carriage stopped for a traffic light.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, I should've done it sooner.”

“How many times do I have to say,
it won’t work?”

“Give me a chance, and I’ll make
you happy. Make you change your opinion of cops.”

She had to end this now. It
couldn’t continue. “Brance, I want you to hear this from me. I don’t want you
stumbling across my past and going into shellshock.”

Before she could say anything, the
large black horse farted, and foul fumes permeated the air. She coughed and
covered her nose under the blanket. “You really know how to romance a woman.”

“Sorry. You were saying.”

“I spent two years in a federal
prison for women."

Chapter Six

For once, Brance couldn’t think of
one damn word to say. An awkward silence lingered between them as the carriage
came to a halt in front of the Peabody. The driver helped Allison step down,
then moved back to allow Brance to exit. He tipped the driver before joining
her.

Allison stood with her arms folded
around her, watching cars traveling up and down the street.

“It’s getting cooler. Let’s wait
inside while the valet brings my car around.”

She nodded but didn’t speak.

Two years wasn’t long, but still
her crime had to be a felony. Breathing became difficult. Her news had floored
him. Though he knew Allison had issues and a few secrets, he’d never suspected
this.

In the car, he turned on the radio
for a distraction and concentrated on driving.

Her breath came out a shaky sigh.
Her confession had taken its toll on her and had ended their evening on a
downbeat, like the one note from a blues song that made you feel sad and
lonely.

The light turned green, and he
drove down Riverside Drive, heading toward the interstate.

Brance wanted to say something,
but the words wouldn’t form. What crime had she committed? He wanted to ask but
didn’t. Not now. Maybe later when the initial shock wore off.

The long, silent drive finally
ended as he pulled into a parking space in front of their apartments.

She removed a fifty from her purse
and dropped it in the seat between them. “This is for my part of the dinner. I
didn't ask for the carriage ride. That was your idea.”

“Keep the money. I’ll walk you to
the door.”

“I’d rather you didn’t. Thank you
for the evening.”

Before he could object, she hopped
from the car. He hurried after her and waited for her to open the apartment
door. “Allison.”

She wiped her eyes, then fumbled
with the door key. She paused and turned slightly toward him. “I’m a convicted
felon and you’re a cop. You do the math. It doesn’t add up. I should’ve never
gone out with you. I’m sorry.”

His throat squeezed. He hadn't
handled her confession well. He’d hurt her.
Shit.
He still couldn’t
think straight. He wanted to tell her it didn’t matter, but it did. It mattered
to his career and to his family.

Brance waited until she was inside
before walking up the steps to his apartment like a man heading for the gallows.
He went to bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. He imagined how lonely and isolated
Allison must feel.

Remembering the dance, a sigh
escaped from him. God, she’d felt so wonderful in his arms.

So right.

So his.

Allison had already touched his
heart.

The next morning Brance received
the call early. Another pharmacy theft with the same MO had taken place during
the early morning hours. At the scene, he climbed from his car and went inside
the business. He had a difficult time focusing on the details of the crime.

Instead, thoughts of Allison’s
confession troubled him. The woman had finally opened up to him, and he'd
crawled into a shell like a chicken-shit turtle.

“What have we got?” Brance asked
John Dreyer, another detective.

“Not much. No prints. Nothing.”

“The alarm?”

“It was triggered, but neither the
security company nor the police responded to the call. It doesn’t show any
signs of being tampered with. Everything appears intact.”

“Surveillance film?” Brance inquired,
his head pounding with anxiety from the stress of the previous evening.

“Just as before. There’s nothing
on it.”

“They know what they’re doing.
I’ll give them that.”

“We’ve got our work cut out for
us,” Dreyer said.

As they entered the store and made
their way to the pharmacy, Brance removed his shades.

Dreyer handed him a list of the
drugs stolen. "The shelves were wiped clean."

Brance read over the list.
"Xanax, Hydrocodone, Ritalin, Oxycodone, Demerol, Percocet, Lortab,
Valium, Ativan. Mainly barbiturates or pain relievers." He smirked.
"Viagra."

Dreyer chuckled. "The drugs
aren’t being sold in Bartlett. Probably Memphis or they could even be transported
out of state."

"I’ll ask my dad to check
with one of their informants to see if any have surfaced in Memphis."

"Couldn't hurt," Dreyer
said. "These thieves are organized, efficient, and smart."

"Certainly not some street
gang out to make a quick profit and grab a few thrills while at it."
Brance handed him back the list. "Since no trace evidence has been left behind,
the perps know exactly how we think."

Which led Brance to believe...no,
he didn’t want to go there. Before accusing a cop, you had to have absolute
proof. Despite the fact that he hated talking to his dad, he needed his help.

At his father’s Memphis precinct,
Brance walked back to the small office and tapped on the door. “You got a
minute?”

His father scowled at first glance
before neutralizing his expression. “Sure. Have a seat.”

He told him about that morning’s
burglary. “The drugs aren't being resold in Bartlett. The most likely place
would be Memphis. Thought maybe you could check around for me.”

“I’ll ask Larry to look into it.”

Brance handed him a list of the
stolen drugs. “These guys are good. Somehow when the alarm is triggered, it’s
not relayed to the security company’s control center or the police. One of the
perps might be a hacker who gets in the system and disarms it.”

“Doesn’t sound like your average
run of the mill thieves.”

“No, it doesn't. I’d appreciate
the help.”

His father wouldn’t turn him down.
Not because he'd go out of his way to help, but because he’d want to show what
a good cop he was.

“I’ll see what I can do.” His
father leaned back in his chair. “Make a note of everything these places have
in common.”

“That’s easy. They sell
prescription drugs.”

“Besides the obvious.”

Brance couldn’t think of one
solitary thing they all shared beyond the fact that they were all stores with
pharmacies. He rubbed his temples trying to bring something to mind and fell
short. “I’ll give it some more thought. Thanks.”

On his way back to Bartlett, he
couldn’t stop thinking about Allison. He wondered what her crime had been. If
he hadn’t of clammed up, she probably would’ve told him. It didn’t matter. He
had to get over her. He couldn’t think of anything that could be more
detrimental to his career than being involved with a felon. He liked working in
law enforcement. There wasn’t anything else he'd rather do.

***

Dillon opened a pot on the stove
and found it empty.
Damn Carla
. He figured she’d walk in with the kids
and pizzas at any moment. It’d be the second time that week they’d eaten pizza.

As he pulled a beer from the
fridge, the back door opened, slamming against the wall.

“Daddy!” his little boy shouted.

Dillon set the beer down and
lifted Sam in his arms. “How’s my buddy doing?”

“I got a smiley face today.”

“Good for you. Where’s Bridget?”

“Helping Mom get the pizza out of
the car.”

Carla walked in and met his glare.
“Sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I had a very difficult day at
work.” She turned to the kids. “Sam, Bridget, go wash up.”

They ran toward the bathroom.

“Ever get creative? Maybe try
Chinese.”

“It costs too much, besides the
twins won’t eat it.”

“You won’t have to work when
Gramie dies.”

“Dillon, please don’t talk like
that. I love Gramie. It sounds so cold.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that
way. I love her too. I’m hoping when Brance is cut out, she divides his share
between Colby and me.”

Guilt filled her eyes for a
moment.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s about Brance isn’t it? You
still love him.”

“No, don’t be ridiculous.”

“There’s nothing ridiculous about
it. You were engaged to him.” He lowered his voice. “You fucked like rabbits.”

Her eyes dulled with pain. “We
went through all of this before we married. You swore you were okay with it. I realized
I loved you instead of Brance.”

“So then what were you thinking?”

“If things hadn’t worked out as
they did with us, I’d be married to Brance, and he’d be included in Gramie’s
will. These would be his kids.”