Authors: Catherine Mulvany
Mallory pulled away, studying his face. A slight frown knitted her brow.
“
Something wrong?
”
“
No.
”
She chewed at her lower lip. He could tell she wasn
’
t buying it.
“
Let me guess. You
’
re one of those I-don
’
t-want-to-talk-it-to-death guys. You just want to roll over and get some sleep.
”
“
No, but if you want to roll over
”—
he paused, grinning wickedly
—“
I
’
d be glad to show you a few new tricks.
”
Mallory
’
s eyes widened as his words registered. Then she grabbed a pillow and whacked him over the head.
Brody ripped the pillow from her grasp and pinned her to the mattress.
“
First you try to beat me senseless. What
’
s next on your agenda? Drag my unconscious body out to the Dumpster?
”
“
All I have is a trash can,
”
Mallory protested, laughing helplessly.
“
You wouldn
’
t fit.
”
Brody silenced her with a kiss that started hot and was definitely headed toward meltdown.
The phone rang.
“
Ignore it,
”
he muttered against her lips. She tasted so damn good.
“
I can
’
t.
”
“
Sure you can. Just concentrate on something else. Here. I
’
ll help.
”
He brushed his knuckles lightly across her nipples.
She shivered in reaction but still pushed him away.
“
No, Brody. I have to get the telephone.
”
She squinted at the clock on the bedside table.
“
Nobody calls at six-eighteen on a Sunday morning unless it
’
s important.
”
“
It
’
s probably your sister calling to ask if you know anything about the red beaded dress she found in Corby
’
s suitcase.
”
Mallory sat up and reached for the phone.
“
Or Mom wanting me to chauffeur Great-aunt Bethiah to the airport.
”
She made a face, then picked up on the fourth ring.
“
Hello? Yes. What? Would you mind repeating that?
”
“
What?
”
asked Brody.
Frowning in concentration, she shushed him.
“
Uhhuh. Don
’
t worry. I
’
ll track him down.
”
“
Track who down?
”
Brody pressed closer in a vain attempt to hear the other side of the conversation.
“
Hush.
”
She whacked him again with the pillow.
“
No, not you, Kyle,
”
she said into the receiver.
“
Brody.
”
“
What does Kyle want?
”
“
If you
’
d be quiet for two seconds, maybe I could find out.
”
Mallory gave him a look. He knew that look. It was the one teachers used to quell difficult students. He slid one hand up her thigh to remind her he was no student.
She jumped.
He grinned.
“
I was being quiet. Lasted more than two seconds too.
”
She wasn
’
t listening. All her attention was on Kyle. Why the hell was Kyle calling anyway? It was practically the middle of the night. Brody didn
’
t mess around with Kyle
’
s love life, so why was Kyle doing his best to screw up Brody
’
s? Brody studied the tense angle of Mallory
’
s shoulders, the tightness at the corners of her mouth, and knew suddenly that Kyle wasn
’
t playing games. Something was wrong.
“
We
’
ll be right there,
”
Mallory said, and hung up.
“
Right where?
”
he asked.
“
The police station.
”
Mallory made Brody drive. She was in no condition to be behind the wheel of a car. Upset as she was, she
’
d probably run them into a power pole.
Brody lifted one hand off the steering wheel, reached across, and gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
“
Tell me what Kyle said. His exact words, if you can remember them.
”
“
He
’
s under arrest. The cops think he
’
s the one behind the burglaries, thanks to a tip from an anonymous informant. They showed up at Kyle
’
s place with a search warrant and found a pile of stolen merchandise hidden in his carriage house.
”
“
How did Kyle explain being in possession of stolen property?
”
“
I
’
m not sure. He didn
’
t say. He was pretty shaken up. But Kyle didn
’
t steal anything, Brody.
”
She spoke earnestly.
“
Then how did it get there?
”
“
I don
’
t know.
”
She was fresh out of bright ideas at the moment, her brain about as useful as a wad of Silly Putty. She let her head fall back against the headrest. God, she was tired. She felt as if she hadn
’
t slept for weeks.
“
He was framed.
”
Mallory sat up straight.
“
Yeah, that
’
s it. Somebody must have framed him.
”
“
Why?
”
“
What do you mean
‘
why?
’
And what
’
s with all these questions?
”
She stared hard at Brody
’
s profile.
“
You sound like a cop.
”
The corner of Brody
’
s mouth twitched as if he were trying not to smile.
“
I am a cop.
”
“
Whose side are you on?
”
She eyed him suspiciously. Didn
’
t years of friendship count for anything with him? He
’
d known Kyle for longer than Mallory had. Surely that meant something. He must realize as well as she did that Kyle Brewster didn
’
t have a dishonest bone in his body.
Brody pulled into the big lot next to city hall. He parked in the same space he
’
d used the last time they
’
d been here.
D
é
j
à
vu all over again
. Something niggled at the edge of Mallory
’
s mind, but she couldn
’
t pin it down.
She hugged her jacket around her, feeling cold.
“
Whose side are you on?
”
she asked again.
“
Hey!
”
He kissed the tip of his forefinger, then pressed it against her mouth.
“
I
’
m one of the good guys, remember?
”
Which didn
’
t really answer her question.
“
I want to talk to Kyle Brewster,
”
Mallory said for the third time. She spoke quietly, her temper well in check.
“
I
’
m afraid that
’
s not possible right now.
”
The faded blonde behind the reception desk sounded like a broken record.
“
When
will
it be possible?
”
The blonde cracked her gum.
“
Hard to say.
”
“
Okay, then. How about I speak to someone who
can
say? Who
’
s in charge here?
”
“
Officer Armstrong, but she
’
s busy right now.
”
Busy grilling Kyle like a trout, she
’
d bet.
“
When can I speak to her?
”
Blondie shrugged her linebacker shoulders in a gesture that looked more than a little threatening.
“
When she
’
s not busy, I suppose.
”
“
Logical.
”
The sarcasm bounced right off the woman
’
s massive chest. She just smiled vaguely, nodded, and went back to the find-a-word puzzle she
’
d been working before Mallory
’
s approach.
Mallory was so frustrated, she felt like punching someone. Preferably the jerk who had framed her friend, but Officer Regan Armstrong and the blonde behind the counter were near the top of the list too. She
’
d been hanging around the police station for over an hour now and she still didn
’
t know squat. And to add insult to injury, Brody had disappeared.
He
’
d left half an hour before, saying he had to make a call, but when she
’
d checked on him a few minutes ago, he wasn
’
t anywhere near the line of pay phones in the entry and no one out there remembered seeing him.
Damn.
She stared at the frosted clerestory windows high on the east wall. Daylight lightened the room, but her thoughts remained a gloomy midnight black. If everything was on the up-and-up, then why were they giving her this bureaucratic runaround? Where were they keeping Kyle, and what were they doing to him?
She had visions of a bleak, concrete-walled interrogation room. Glaring spotlights. Cattle prods. Okay, maybe no cattle prods, but lots of intimidation, the old good cop/bad cop routine.
“
Mallory?
”
She jumped a good six inches when Brody touched her shoulder.
“
What?
”
“
I have news.
”
She turned to face him. He looked as rotten as she felt. Dark circles ran halfway down his cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot, and he sported some heavy-duty beard stubble.
No news is good news
. And the corollary to that was
c
Suddenly she didn
’
t want to hear whatever Brody had to say.
“
Kyle?
”
He nodded.
“
They really believe he
’
s behind all the thefts?
”
“
The evidence is overwhelming.
”
Brody sounded tired.
Her protest was instinctive, immediate.
“
Overwhelming maybe, but circumstantial. No one saw Kyle steal anything. They couldn
’
t have because he didn
’
t.
”
“
No one
’
s accusing him of theft.
”
“
Then why is he under arrest?
”
“
To be perfectly accurate,
”
Kyle said from behind her,
“
I
’
m out on bail.
”
“
Kyle!
”
Mallory threw her arms around his neck.
“
I
’
ve been so worried! Nobody would tell me anything.
”
She backed away, holding him at arm
’
s length.
“
Are you okay? They didn
’
t hurt you, did they?
”