In the Arms of the Wind (12 page)

“Is someone going to question me about Rosemary?” she asked, using the toes of her right foot to pry off the heel of her left pump then ridding herself of the other in the same way.

“Just me and Barnes,” he said. “It’s our case since we believe it’s directly related to Thomas Gerring’s murder.” He stroked her thigh. “You feel up to talking about it?”

“I guess so,” she replied. “I don’t know what I can tell you though.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Friday,” she said. “When I left work.”

“Did she know you were going out with Gerring that evening?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t tell her.”

“Was there a reason you didn’t tell her?”

“She didn’t have a rule about not going out with customers, if that’s what you mean. It was just that she doesn’t…” She swallowed hard. “She didn’t invite any kind of personal interaction at the shop. There was never any chit-chat or socializing at lunch or after work. It was strictly business with her. She kept her distance and I kept mine.”

“Doesn’t make for ideal work conditions, does it?”

“I didn’t mind. I’m a private person anyway.”

“Did you speak to her after Gerring’s murder? Call her to ask if she’d heard about it?”

“No. I just assumed she did and we’d talk about it on Monday.”

“I heard it isn’t unusual for her to meet would-be buyers on the weekend if they see something in the shop they want. Does that happen a lot?”

Kaycee shifted in his lap. “Not often but it does happen. Maybe they’re only in town for the day and the after-hours phone number is on the door in case someone does want to take a look at something they’ve seen in the window.”

“So she gets a call, meets whoever at the shop,” he said, staring across the room. “She wouldn’t necessarily have known them but she would have let them in anyway.”

“Most customers are repeaters,” Kaycee told him. “They come down from Atlanta or Charlestown for the weekend. Even if she didn’t know them, she wouldn’t have thought twice about meeting them at the shop.”

“You’ll need to come down to the station in the morning to give us a statement, but it shouldn’t take long. I’ll be right there with you.”

Kaycee pushed away from his chest and gave him a startled look. “Do you think Thomas’ killers knew there was someone in his house that night? Someone who they think can identify them?” Her eyes flared. “Could they have thought it was Rosemary?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Her death could be totally unrelated to his.”

She searched his eyes. “You don’t believe that or you wouldn’t have broken the sound barrier getting to my house today.”

He made a decision and hoped it was the right one.

“We believe Rosemary Adams and Thomas Gerring were into some things that weren’t legal, Kaycee. We think she was using her shop to move stolen antiques and he was providing some of those antiques for her. This could be a deal gone bad.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, there was no illegal stuff going on there. Everything we sell has documentation from estate sales or auctions. Rosemary kept immaculate records on all of it.”

“Who did the books?” he asked.

“She did but…”

“So you have no way of knowing if she sold something that didn’t have documentation,” he told her.

“I do the inventory on every item that comes in,” she said. “I see the papers on them. I photograph the item and tag it. If there was anything in the storeroom that I hadn’t checked in, I would know it.”

“Unless it came in and went out when you weren’t there.”

Kaycee opened her mouth to protest but stopped, her forehead creasing. “Danny, I can’t believe she would do anything like that.”

“We found out Thomas Gerring was about to be indicted by the United States Attorney for the Southern District of Georgia on four counts of conspiring to receive, possess and sell antiquities illegally removed from Mexico between 2002 and 2006 in violation of the United States’ National Stolen Property Act. We think he was killed to keep him from testifying against those with whom he was doing business. More than likely he had records hidden somewhere with names, contact numbers, locations. His killers knew Rosemary fenced goods for him so maybe they thought she knew too much, could name names, and they wanted to find out just how much then shut her up.”

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Kaycee said, putting a hand to her temple. “And those same people probably think I know something too!”

“You are safe here. Nothing’s going to happen to you, Kaycee,” he said. “I won’t let it.”

“I can’t stay in your condo forever, Danny,” she protested. “I can’t…”

“We’re going to find Rosemary Adams’ killers and we’ll put the word out that you knew nothing about her illegal activities, that you weren’t involved in any way. I’ll have a guard on you every minute I’m not at your side, but I’ll tell you right now, I balk at having him in the shower with you when I’m not home.”

Kaycee smiled despite the terrible fear clouding her eyes. “Even if he’s got abs of steel?” she said, lips trembling.

“Especially if he does,” he replied. He cupped her face, ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “The only abs you’re gonna be seeing are mine.”

“But…”

“Shush,” he whispered, and lowered his mouth to hers.

Fear was replaced with a hunger so deep she hadn’t even been aware it dwelled within her. His lips plied hers with a sweetness that banished the ugliness of the murders and his tongue completely wiped away any vestige of thought from her mind. The moment his fingers expertly parted the buttons of her blouse and his palm slid beneath the cup of her bra to caress her bare breast, she was lost to everything but the heat pulsing from his body.

His thumb arched across her nipple once, twice before he captured the hardening bud between his thumb and index finger, rolling it slowly, tightly. Kaycee groaned, his touch causing her womb to clench.

“You like that?” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh yes,” she answered with a moan.

He shifted her from his lap to the sofa seat, stretching out beside her as he slid over her, covering her body with his. His lips along her ear, down her neck, sent shivers through Kaycee as his fingers plucked at her nipple. She could feel his erection pressed against her thigh like a length of steel.

“I want you,” he said against the hollow at the base of her throat.

“I want you too,” she managed to whisper. “Danny?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I’m on the Pill but do you have…?”

“I’ve got one,” he said.

In one lithe move he rose from the sofa, dug his hand into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it, took out the condom and handed it to her before tugging the shirt from his pants. His gaze was riveted to hers as he worked the buttons free then shrugged the garment from his broad shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. The golden gleam of a chain hanging around his neck caught the light and caught in the St. Michael—the patron saint of policemen—medal resting atop the chest hair. His hands looked so strong, so sure, so knowing as he undid his belt then unsnapped the button of his pants and ran the zipper down. Kaycee’s body trembled when she realized he wore no underwear beneath those trousers. Clutching the foil condom packet tight to her chest, she turned her face to the back of the sofa, feeling the blood rushing through her ears. She heard him push the pants down his long legs and step out of them, toss them casually to a nearby chair.

“Look at me, Kaycee,” he said softly.

Swallowing hard, Kaycee eased her head around and what she saw made the breath catch in her throat. She wasn’t prepared for the size of him—jutting thick and stiff. She wasn’t at all sure she could accommodate the length and breadth of him, and just thinking of that massive shaft sliding between her legs was enough to make her sweat.

“Touch him, baby. Put your hand around him,” he said in a husky voice. He moved closer to the sofa.

She wanted to. God, how she wanted to, and when she did, he was like silk over iron—hard and warm and so big she could not close her hand around him. She moaned at the power she held in her hand.

Danny closed his eyes and let his head fall back as she caressed him. He was breathing heavily, feeling the blood pounding through his veins and rushing through his ears. Her hand was soft and cool and silky as it glided over him. The moment she put a fingertip to the head of his cock, he trembled violently. He lightly batted her hand away—knowing if she continued to stroke him the way she was doing, he would shame himself before her.

Kaycee bit her lip as he put his hands on her shoulders and drew her to a sitting position. His hands were shaking as he put them on the buttons of her blouse but his eyes were determined, glowing hot with desire. The rasp of his knuckles against her flesh as he undid her blouse was erotic and sent waves of heat curling through her belly. When he peeled the garment from her and reached for the front hook of her bra, she had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from groaning again.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as the bra came undone to reveal the heavy fullness of her breasts. He pushed the straps down her arms then lowered his head to capture one straining nipple between his lips.

Pounding lust rippled through Kaycee and she buried her hands in his thick hair, holding his head as he suckled her breast. His teeth were grazing the sensitive peak and his tongue was doing such wicked, wicked things to her libido that she wanted to crawl inside him and curl up. His low chuckle as he pulled firmly on her nipple told her he knew exactly what he was doing to her. He shifted his attention to the other nipple, dragging a kiss from one peak to the other, his hands molding her, bringing her to his lips.

Reveling in the pleasure he was giving her, Kaycee lay back to encourage him to remove the rest of her clothing. She wanted to feel his flesh sliding over hers, covering her, filling her. He took the hint and ran his hands down to the closure of her pants, making quick work of undoing them and stripping them down her long legs. He pulled them off then hooked his fingers in the waistband of her lacy panties and removed them in one expert move. Before she could heave a sigh of delight, he buried his face against her belly and slipped his tongue into the sweet little concavity there. His growl caused chill bumps to come to life on her arms.

“I could eat you up,” he said, spreading little nips all over her belly and sides before he slid onto the sofa, covering her, wedging his lower body between her willing thighs, propping himself up on his elbows so he could see her face. “I want all of you, Kaycee,” he swore. “Every last ounce of you.” He moved his right arm so he could slip his hand between them, adjusting his cock so that it rode between her legs, against the seam of her sex. His mouth took hers, his tongue sliding between her lips to take possession.

With the foil packet still clutched in her hand, Kaycee wrapped her arms around him, arched her hips and brought her left leg up to hook her heel over his right calf. He tasted of the root beer float he’d had at lunch as his tongue dueled with hers. His kiss deepened and she found herself pulsing upward in invitation, begging him to take her, to come into her body. His groan was deep and promising as once more he slipped his hand between them, but this time to stroke her, to press into her wetness.

“Danny,” she breathed against his mouth.

His middle finger moved into her sheath, and then his index and he thrust gentle, sure inside her. With every stroke her juices flowed freer until she caught a whiff of their scent. He did as well, and the perfume of her feminine channel seemed to grip him for he growled again, but this time it was filled with intent.

He withdrew from her.

“We don’t really need it but give me the raincoat, babe,” he said then took the condom packet from her, ripped it open with his teeth and unrolled it onto his tumescent flesh. Taking hold of his cock, he placed it at her opening. With their gazes fused, he pushed into her with one strong drive that made her eyes flare and robbed her of her breath.

He was huge—filling her completely. He paused there, allowing her time to adjust to his size. She could feel the pulsing of his blood through the stiff shaft. A vein at the side of his neck throbbed wildly and a light sheen of perspiration appeared on his upper lip as he strove to hold perfectly still. His breathing was ragged and at the moment her vaginal muscles involuntarily pulsed around his cock, a shudder ran the length of his body.

“Do it,” she said, feeling reckless, wanting to be taken and needing to be claimed by him.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I am sure,” she whispered, lifting her pelvis in sacrifice to his need.

Danny wedged his hands beneath her rump and lifted her to him, easing out a little then in, then out a bit farther, in again, and then he was moving like a slow piston along her vaginal valley—lubricating her, stretching her until he felt she was ready for him to thrust as deep as he could go and as hard as she could take. He was straining to keep himself under control and he didn’t know how much longer he could wait.

“Danny, let it go. I won’t break,” she said. “Take me, baby. Take me the way you want to.”

That was all he needed, all he could endure. He surged forward with his hips and slammed into her, burying his face against her shoulder as he thrust hard into her. His toes were digging into the sofa seat. Her left leg was hooked over his hip, her other leg pinned between him and the back of the sofa.