InTooDeep (3 page)

“That place will still be standing long
after you and I both are gone. It’s got history.” Hunt shoved his hand against
the glass-plated door.

“Brandon, Polponia, wait up!” The shift
commander, short, balding and a few pounds overweight, huffed over to them.
“Lieutenant says you two should take this. He’s passed the dump job to
Detectives Johnson and Ringwald.” He handed off a note and returned to his desk
at a much slower pace.

Dave shrugged and followed Hunt out into the
sunlight. “You know, for a guy who’s only been in town for a little over a
year, you know a helluva lot about our landmarks. Why is that?”

“I’m a history buff.”

“Yeah, and I’m a big Barbra Streisand fan.”

Reaching the car, Hunt walked around to the
driver’s seat. “What are you trying to say? You got questions about me, just
ask.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be just as forthcoming
as your mystery lady.” Dave settled himself in the passenger seat. “So do you
want to tell me the whole scoop now or am I going to have to find it out
myself? ‘Cause I have to tell you, partner, this thing with you and Franklin
makes me more than a little nervous.”

Silence greeted the question, compelling
Dave to push on. “Did I mention that in a few more years I can retire to a
rickety trailer on the edge of town with my piddly pension and a stack of
Playboy
magazines? You get my ass killed and I’m not going to be too happy with you.
I’ve already started looking at trailers.” He grinned to lighten the mood but
Hunt knew it was only his way of letting the subject drop for now.

Hunt started the engine. “You need to learn
how to relax, Papolnia.” Even as he said the words he couldn’t take his own
advice. He spent the better part of his day on alert, which was why his mystery
lady’s nocturnal visits weren’t helping. He didn’t need one more thing to keep
him on edge.

“Okay, fine. You don’t want to talk about
why you hate the lieutenant so much then let’s get back to talking about this
woman friend of yours.”

“She’s not a friend.” Hunt shifted the
vehicle into reverse. “And you know as much about her as I do.”

Dave wiggled on the seat until he was
facing his partner. “Well if she’s in some kind of trouble why doesn’t she go
to the police like an ordinary person would? Ordinary people do not break into
a detective’s house to get his attention. Ordinary people go through the proper
channels.” His voice went an octave higher, as it had a tendency to do when his
anxiety was riding high.

Hunt rolled the window down to let in the
fresh air. He sliced his partner a reassuring look. “Did it ever occur to you
that maybe she has gone to the police?”

“Then why isn’t there a report?”

“There could be for all I know. She hasn’t
given me her name.” But she didn’t look like the type who would stroll into the
police station anyway. No, she was definitely a take-charge person. Why else
would she have abandoned all sense of right and wrong to break into his home?

“Let’s just focus on this case. We can talk
about my mystery lady later.”

“You mean after you meet her tonight and
put yourself in the line of fire.”

“If she wanted to kill me she would have
made the attempt the first night.”

“You know,” Dave waggled a finger to
emphasize his next point, “it would stand to reason that, given the uncertainty
of this situation, you would want to involve the lieutenant, maybe turn this
into a, what do you call it? I hate when I forget what it’s called.” He snapped
his fingers. “Oh yeah, a police investigation.”

“If I do that she’ll get arrested.” No. He
didn’t want the redhead behind bars, no matter her current method of gaining
entrance to his home. There was just something about her that made him not want
to take that step.

“That’s generally what we do to criminals,
yes.” Dave tapped the badge hooked to his belt. “That is why they give us these
things, you know.”

“I’ve already told you I’m going to do this
alone for now. She didn’t break into my house because she’s a criminal. She
broke in because she wants my help.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. I
could tag along if you want.”

“Thanks, but I think I can handle this.”

“Well just be careful. Stay on guard.
Whatever this woman wants can’t be aboveboard if she’s too scared to go to the
police in the normal way.”

It wasn’t like Hunt hadn’t thought about
that. There was, no doubt, more than an air of mystery about his night visitor.
She wanted his help and there was a reason why she couldn’t go to the police to
get it.

Which, under ordinary circumstances, would
have sent his sense of self-preservation into overdrive. But he didn’t get a
feeling of danger, no matter how secretive she was being.

Whatever this woman was, she wasn’t a
threat to him. Well she didn’t want to kill him anyway. But there were a
helluva a lot more ways she could fuck up his life.

The file lay open on her bed, pictures
detailing Detective Brandon’s home and life. Carley viewed each one as
carefully as she’d walked through his home the previous evening. Though she was
feeling considerably better about Dani’s disappearance, she’d mulled over Mrs.
Buttle’s last-minute announcement in her mind and something just didn’t feel
right about it. It was entirely possible Carley was just feeling a little
paranoid but she couldn’t leave without hearing from her sister.

And since this Detective Hunt Brandon was
adept at finding people, it couldn’t hurt to stick with her original plan. And
if she wanted a little more from him than just his help, she couldn’t possibly
be faulted for that.

Carley returned her attention to the glossy
photos, each of which revealed a bit more about the detective—the wall lined
with accolades and medals of merit, the gold trophy that proclaimed him player
of the year for the city’s softball league and the row of dark suits hanging in
his bedroom closet. And not the cheap suits either. They were tailor-made,
expensive. That bit of information made her pause. How in the hell could a
detective afford those types of suits?

She dropped the photograph and moved on to
the others. The hardwood floors were polished to a gleaming shine and looked
almost unused. The winding staircase led up to four bedrooms and she’d visited
every one. Nothing special in any of them.

The gourmet kitchen with gleaming
appliances and clutter-free counters had surprised her. Copper pots hung from
plant hooks above the pine island and green, healthy ivy wrapped around the
shelf above the sink—a kitchen made for family gatherings. The room didn’t fit
with the man. She just couldn’t imagine him in an apron making waffles on a
Sunday morning.

She smiled at the image and lowered the
pictures. Thumbing through the reports, she familiarized herself with the
knowledge the pieces of paper offered once more. She’d spent more time than she
should have finding out what she knew about Detective Hunt Brandon and so far
every piece of information had been accurate, even down to the number of awards
hanging on his walls.

Those reminders formed a tight knot in the
pit of her stomach and made her question her decision. How in the hell was she
supposed to convince a cop with so many accolades to help her, especially once
she revealed her identity?

Checking the time on the digital clock
beside her bed, she sighed. The minutes ticked by, drawing the time closer to
their meeting, and while a part of her wanted to bail out, to just fade away
without any further contact, another part, that feminine part which was
screaming the loudest, wanted much more than just verbal contact.

Hell, she might as well see this through to
the end. If nothing else she’d have some damn good stories to tell Dani.

Chapter Three

Hunt squatted down beside the old woman’s
body. “Single bullet wound to the head. No other signs of physical trauma.”

“And no signs of forced entry.” Dave walked
around the living room. “This place looks spic-and-span too. The uniforms are
out knocking on some doors but this looks professional to me.”

“I was thinking the same thing, but who
takes a hit out on a woman closing in on eighty?”

“Maybe we’ll get something off
fingerprints. Tech said he found a couple of good ones on the door. ‘Course
that could be anyone from a delivery boy to the mailman.”

More crime scene investigators made their
way across the carpet with white protective liners covering their feet. They
spoke in low, hushed tones as if afraid of disturbing the woman’s final rest.

A loud scream brought Hunt to his feet and
had Dave whirling around. While two officers tried to restrain her, an elderly
lady struggled and sobbed, pointing toward the deceased.

“Guys, it’s okay. We’ll talk to her.” Hunt
approached the lady and gently guided her to the closest chair, a tattered
recliner with a paisley knitted blanket thrown over one arm. “Ma’am, did you
know the victim?”

The woman continued to sob hysterically,
her arthritic finger waving. She snagged a handful of Hunt’s shirt and leaned
her head against his shoulder.

Hunt wrapped a gentle arm around the
woman’s shoulder and offered her what comfort he could. Over the years, death
hardened him a little, made him just a bit more jaded, but there were times
like this when he remembered his first days on the job, when he didn’t just see
a dead body as a victim.

“She was my friend,” the elderly lady
finally managed to whisper.

Hunt eased back to see her face, offered
her a tissue passed to him by a nearby officer. “We haven’t found her ID yet,
ma’am. Could you give us her name?”

Red-rimmed eyes pinned Hunt with a
surprisingly sharp look. “Her name is Maggie. Maggie Buttle.”

“How could you have let this happen?” Rena
propped her hands on her hips. “How many times do I have to tell you we only
take girls with no family?” She snapped out each word.

Lieutenant Darrell Franklin swallowed the
tight ball in his throat and tried to think. It was always difficult to do when
Rena was near. She was incredibly beautiful but there was more to her than just
her beauty. There was just something about her, something magnetic that
rendered him speechless when she moved into his personal space.

“We checked her background like we always
do, Rena, but we didn’t have any way of knowing she’d changed her name.”

“Or that her sister would come looking for
her?”

“We’ve got this covered.” Franklin hated
the feeling he got sometimes when Rena disapproved of him. She could make him
feel small, inefficient, with just a look from those smoky eyes.

She approached him on lethal high heels.
Her fingers inched up the silk tie he wore to the knot and, for a brief moment,
he wondered if she was going to tighten it. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. The old lady said exactly what
we told her to say, just played it perfectly. Almost like she didn’t give a
damn that my guys were in there.”

“Your guys?” Rena gave a little laugh.
“They’re
my
guys, Franklin. Never forget that.” She tapped her finger to
his nose. “And if you ever make another fuck-up like this one I’ll be short one
guy.”

Franklin wanted to push her away but Rena
was a powerful woman with an even more powerful husband, and he didn’t doubt
both of them could make his life very miserable—or end it altogether.

“It won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t, but there are a few more
tracks to cover don’t you think?” She folded her arms, the gesture adding more
cleavage. “We can’t have this sister making waves. Get me the specifics and
then I’ll decide what we should do about her. Who knows? We might be able to
turn this into a two-for-one special.”

“You’re late.” The quiet voice brought him
to his feet.

Hunt whipped around. How in the hell had
she crept up on him like that? What had happened to his internal alarm? He
cleared his throat. “So are you.” He didn’t tell her he’d driven like he’d been
riding in a stolen car in an attempt to get there on time.

She was dressed in the black Lycra pantsuit
again. The material molded to her curves, hiding very little from his zealous
imagination. Her hair fell around her shoulders in glossy waves and beneath the
light of the moon her face glowed. Damn. She was a beautiful woman, and as much
as he needed to keep his mind on his job, she was going to make it difficult.

“Actually, I’ve been here for quite some
time. I like to arrive early, gives me a chance to scope out the area.” Her
voice stirred him, tying his stomach in a knot.

“I hear that’s common among criminals.”
Hunt’s hand rested on the butt of his gun but he hadn’t taken his eyes off her
face. Heat emanated from her in waves, drawing him in, pushing back any resistance
he had left.

She smiled and turned her back on him to
walk toward the lighted gazebo. “You won’t need your weapon, Detective. I
didn’t come here to kill or maim you.”

He didn’t drop his hand. “Maybe that’s not
why I feel the need for it.” The woman didn’t seem to be the least bit
intimidated by his size or demeanor. Or the fact that he was a cop. Most
criminals went out of their way to avoid interacting with police officers—a
fact that only added to his belief that she wasn’t a criminal.

He followed her up the concrete steps,
stopping as he reached the top. “Why here?”
That’s right, Brandon. Keep the
tone conversational. Easier to catch her off-guard
. Then he could take her
down if necessary.

She didn’t look over her shoulder as she
walked toward one of the painted white pillars. “I thought you would feel safer
in a public place.”

“Safer?” Irritation warred with the
attraction. Did this woman really think she scared him? Okay so she’d taken him
down once, but he doubted any male cop wouldn’t have been surprised to find
this woman in his bedroom. So the lowering of his defenses had only been
natural.

She turned to face him and smiled, full
lips parting to reveal even, white teeth. “Was it your intention to arrest me
tonight?”

Her voice had changed, become edgier. Just
like that his attention snapped back into focus. If there was ever a time when
he needed his wits it was now. God only knew what this woman was capable of.

“Not really, but it would be a bonus.” His
handcuffs hung at the back of his belt, and he reached back to feel the cool
metal. “I’ve had a really long day so do you want to make it easy on yourself
and me? It’ll save us both a lot of time.”

“No, I don’t think I can do that.” She
leaned against the column, which was weathered with age. “I didn’t arrange this
meeting so you could arrest me for B&E, Detective.”

Damn. She sounded so controlled, almost
calculating, making him wonder if his instincts had failed him. Maybe she was
really a criminal and he’d just missed it somehow.

“I never expected you did. You’ve had ample
opportunity to turn yourself in these last two days. Since that isn’t what
you’re looking to do, maybe you could tell me what it is you do want without
making any more uninvited entrances into my home. At the very least you could
tell me your name.” Maybe if he started with the little things she really would
lower her guard, give him a chance to find out what she was really all about.

“You can call me Carley.”

“At least that’s a start.”

She folded her arms across her breasts,
pushing them up to the top of her suit. “You have a beautiful house, by the
way.”

Hunt didn’t respond to the compliment. His
gaze swept her from head to toe, lingering on the plush mounds before dropping
to her sleek curves. Blood roared in his ears. The woman was addictive and
probably just as lethal as a drug. And he trusted her about as much as he
trusted a rabid wolf.

“You’re wondering why I asked you to meet
me here when I’ve gone out of my way to keep you from catching up with me.”

“The thought has crossed my mind, yes.” He
forced himself to focus but the light breeze caught the scent of her perfume.
It drifted toward him, wrapping him in the succulent aromas of Asian spices and
sun-dappled skin.

He thought his body couldn’t get any harder
but then he realized her eyes had dropped to his crotch. His flesh swelled as
her gaze lingered there for a long moment. The collar of his shirt grew
tighter, suffocating him, but he didn’t tug it away from his skin. Instead he
trained his gaze on her face, watching her eyes move from his lips back down
his body in a long, leisurely look.

She licked full, tinted lips and tilted her
face up toward the ceiling of the gazebo. “You’re attracted to me, Detective.”

“Aren’t most men?” He wouldn’t deny the
obvious.

A laugh filtered into the darkness. “I’m
not interested in most men.”

Every muscle in Hunt’s body coiled with
sexual tension, and in that moment he forgot about duty, honor, the law,
everything but what he wanted most. Her. Plunging into her wet heat. Feeling
those long, luscious legs wrapped around his hips.

He bit back a groan and dropped his gaze,
clawing desperately at composure that mockingly eluded him. “Let’s get back on
point.” He forced the words out through a throat drier than Arizona sawdust.

She took a step toward him, surprising him
with her boldness. “You already know I need your help.”

Now bathed in her scent, he found it
difficult to take his eyes off her cleavage. “So why didn’t you come to the
station and ask for it? That’s the way a normal person asks for help. You
didn’t turn yourself into a criminal just because you need my help.”

Hunt took a step closer and then another
until mere inches separated their bodies. Probably not a good idea considering
his body’s reaction to her. “That’s not something a sane person would do.”

Why was he still talking when his palms
ached to cup her breasts, to fill his hands with their heaviness? Drowning in a
sea of sexual hunger, he tried to think about what he should say next. Do next.
Nothing came to mind…at least nothing he
should
do. Oh but there were
plenty of things he wanted to do. What in the hell was happening to him?

“Sanity is overrated.” She breathed the
words, sending soft puffs of minted air toward him.

God, he wanted to kiss her, to tangle his
hands in that thick hair. Riveted, he lifted one hand and brushed his knuckles
down the side of her face, the urge to touch her stronger than the inner voice
telling him to back away. “Who are you?”

Their gazes clashed, held, both
challenging, demanding. Carley smiled. “I just gave you my name.”

“And that’s all you’ve given me.”

“That will have to do for now.”

“Not acceptable.” He sensed she was pulling
back from him, ready to leave the conversation much sooner than he was ready to
let her go.

She reached out and captured his tie with
one hand, rolling it around her hand. “If that’s the case, then why are you
here?”

Hunt’s blood pressure climbed. “Maybe the
mystery has me intrigued.” No more so than the woman standing in front of him.

She stood on tiptoe and pressed her cheek
to his to whisper in his ear. “And there’s so much more mystery awaiting you.”

He fisted one hand in her hair and gave it
a gentle tug, his body mere seconds away from exploding. “Enough with the
games. What do you want from me?”

Carley’s gaze met his and Hunt caught his
breath and held it, knowing he should say something, do something. But that
look, that raw pain he saw in her eyes, left him helpless.

“What is it, Carley? It’s time to be
honest. You’ve got my attention so now tell me why you want it.”

She tugged her hair free from his hand and
took a step back and he imagined doors closing that effectively shut out her
emotions. “It’s my sister. I haven’t been able to reach her for a few days.
When I got into town she wasn’t home, hasn’t been home. I’ve already hired a
private investigator but your record tells me you’d be much better at finding
her.”

It couldn’t be that simple, could it? “Did
you file a missing persons report?”

“No.”

Hunt shook his head. “There’s got to be
something more to it than that. You didn’t stage this elaborate game of cat and
mouse just to ask me to help you find your sister when, more than likely, given
time, the investigator will do just that. So why me?”

Carley swallowed, brushed the hair back
over her shoulder. “The police can’t be involved.”

His eyebrows winged upward. “Did you forget
you targeted a cop? If you didn’t want the boys in blue involved you probably
shouldn’t have broken into my home.”

“In theory that makes sense but my sister
is too important to trust to some nameless guy in a uniform. I need to know
that someone will be actively looking for her, will follow the leads I provide
and won’t stop until he finds her.”

“What makes you so sure I’m that guy?”

“Because I always trust my instincts. I
have some business coming up out of town soon and I’d like to leave knowing my
sister is safe.”

“And that’s really it?” He wasn’t buying
it. Not for a minute. “Why can’t the police be involved?”

Her gaze hardened. “Because I said so.”

Hunt shook his head. “No. Sorry. You picked
the wrong guy.”

“Why don’t you think about it? In the
meantime, here’s all the information I’ve come up with since I arrived in
Charleston.” She passed him a folder, making him wonder where she’d been hiding
it. That suit didn’t offer much room for stowing away information. “I’ll give
you a call tomorrow morning.” She turned her back to him and walked away, her
steps steady and sure as if somehow she knew she was safe from harm.