“Oh.” Her cell rang, and she started to go fetch her purse.
Will closed his hand around her arm. “Ignore it.”
“I can’t. I gave Betsy instructions not to call unless it was an emergency.” She shot off the couch and retrieved her phone. Too late. She checked her missed calls. The nursing home. They hardly ever called unless there was a problem. She dressed in a hurry.
Sitting on an overstuffed chair, she dialed the number and asked to speak to Mrs. Brooks.
Will headed into the bathroom.
“Hello, Miss Jackson. I’m so sorry to disturb you.”
The angst in the woman’s voice instantly heightened her fear. “Is something wrong?”
“Well, we seem to have lost your grandmother, but I’m sure she’s just playing hide-and-go-seek with the staff.”
All the air sucked out of Megan’s lungs. “Oh my God. How could this have happened?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I know the staff will find her any moment, but I wanted to apprise you of the situation.”
She held a hand to her chest and thought of what Gram had told her.
“A big man. White, like your daddy. He had dark hair and broad shoulders. Told me he’d take me away if I wanted. On a real vacation, like Niagara Falls.”
“I spoke to Patty yesterday after Gram told me a white man was going to take her on a trip. She said he climbed over the hedges to get to her.” Her mouth grew dry. What if that monster had Gram?
The woman coughed loudly. “I’m sure that’s not it, Miss Jackson. We have excellent security here.”
“Really? Then why can’t you tell me where my grandmother is?” Her heart thundered wildly as tension stormed through her.
“We’re doing everything in our power—”
“Have you called the police?”
“I don’t think we’re at that point yet, but if she isn’t found soon, of course we’ll contact them.”
Megan snapped her phone shut. She had to be there, had to help find Gram. She prayed the killer hadn’t snatched Gram away. If he hurt her, it would be all Megan’s fault.
Tension tightened between her shoulders. She tossed her phone into her purse and rubbed the bridge of her nose. A monster headache was coming on fast.
“What’s going on?” Will asked.
“Gram is missing. I have to go there.”
He looked at her as if she had two heads. “You’re in hiding here, baby. We can’t just leave when we feel like it.”
She fisted her hands in frustration. “My grandmother is missing, Will. What do you expect me to do, sit here while she could be in grave danger?”
His expression softened. “I’m sorry. You’re right. But can we take this slower? Tell me what’s happened. Who was on the phone?”
She tried to stay calm as she recapped the call.
When she’d finished, Will nodded. “Okay. But let’s wait awhile before we go there. Give them a chance to find her. It’s probably nothing. We used to get calls like that when I was a rookie at the SO. Nine times out of ten they found the person within an hour.”
Didn’t he care at all? “She could be in that maniac’s hands right this very moment.”
When her cell rang, she answered as she stared into Will’s eyes. He did care. She could see it in the lines etched on his face.
“Miss Jackson? This is Mrs. Brooks again.”
“Yes?” Megan held her breath.
“Your grandmother is fine. She was in the garden all along.”
She gave Will a thumbs-up. “Thank God. So she’s okay?”
“Well, yes.”
The hesitation in the other woman’s voice unnerved her. “You don’t sound sure.”
“I think we should discuss her mental acuity with the doctor.”
“I agree. Gram’s not been herself lately,” Megan said.
“I’ll let him know when he makes rounds tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” She shut her phone and held it, replaying the conversation in her head.
“What is it?” Will placed a comforting hand on her knee.
“I’m not sure. Something doesn’t feel right.” She leaned against his chest. When all this was over, she would spend more time with Gram. She owed it to her.
Chapter Eight
John Jarity woke in his desk chair. The remnants of a bottle of whiskey sat next to the computer, accusing him. His stomach and head ached. Shouldn’t have had so much on an empty stomach. Was that his head ringing?
Shaking off sleep, he realized it was his cell.
Harvey.
“Pretty fucking early in the morning to be calling, bro.” He checked his watch. Five-forty. Midafternoon in Sri Lanka.
“I figured you’d want to hear some good news.”
He rubbed his eyes. “What you got?”
“Three sisters. The mom wants a million rupees for all of them. I think we should do it.”
John mentally calculated the exchange rate. About nine thousand bucks. And he could sell the two he didn’t want for fifty grand apiece. Less the three thousand for the paperwork to get the girls into the country, they’d still make a tidy profit. “Do it. Just make sure the documents are solid.”
“I know how to do this, John. I’ve managed to get five others in, haven’t I?”
If Harvey were here, he’d clock him for that sarcastic tone. But he needed his brother to get the women here without incident. “Okay. Call me when you clear customs in Miami.”
“This is the last time. We make enough without taking this kind of chance.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” When he returned, Harvey would have to be taught a lesson. He snapped his phone shut, then rubbed his eyes. The sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen caught his attention. Gritting his teeth, he strode through the house and found Ruth Ann at the stove.
The morning light wasn’t kind to her wrinkled face. Avoiding a direct stare, he crossed the room to the coffeemaker. “Morning.”
“Did you work all night again? For heaven’s sake, John.”
He sat at the table and inhaled his first cup. Ruth Ann set a plate of burned toast and practically raw eggs in front of him. Thank God Harvey was bringing him a girl. He needed her for more than just his carnal urges. His damn wife was inept at every household chore. After a few bites, he pushed up from the table.
“Aren’t you going to finish your breakfast?”
“Sorry, honey. Stomach’s upset. I have a few calls to make. Please don’t disturb me.” He ignored her indignant huffs as he left the room.
Back in the study, he phoned someone who’d expressed an interest in one of his
foreign ventures.
“Rick, John Jarity here. I think I’ve found the answer to your problems.”
***
Ed Dawkins checked his cell, and his pulse instantly sped up. It always did when Veronica phoned. She still made him crazy, both with love and with anguish. “Hiya, gorgeous.”
“Eddie, that awful man called. We have to do something. He isn’t playing around.” The fear in her voice went straight to his gut.
“Slow down, kitten. Tell me what you’re talking about.”
“The guy from the casino. Mr. Morgan. He says if I know what’s good for me, I’ll pay the money like yesterday.”
The jelly doughnut he’d just eaten roiled in his stomach. He pulled a bottle of antacid from his desk drawer. “Did you get his number? Maybe if I talk to him—”
“No! He said he’d call me tomorrow. And I’d better have the money by then, or he’ll come down here to get it himself.” She started crying.
He took a swig of antacid. Setting it down hard on the metal desk, he shivered at the chalky taste. “Please don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.”
“But I’m scared, Eddie. What are we gonna do?”
He ticked off a mental list of his accounts receivable. His two biggest clients had outstanding bills due in the next couple of days. “We’ll get a cash advance on one of the credit cards. Coral Gables Savings. That one has the lowest rate.”
“Oh, Eddie Bear. You literally saved my life.” More crying.
“Don’t, kitten, please.”
“I’m so lucky to have such a wonderful man like you. What did I do to deserve you?” She sniffled loudly.
Despite himself, he grinned. “It’s not what you did, but what you’ll do tonight when I get home.”
After a long pause, she said, “Oh. I get it. Sure. I’ll think of something fun. Gotta run now.”
He disconnected and shoved the bottle of antacid back into his drawer. Checking his calendar, he groaned. He’d promised to keep an eye on Will’s girl’s house today. Pushing away from the desk, he grabbed the slip of paper where he’d scrawled the address. He headed to his car, anticipating a long, boring day. No problem. Will had insisted on paying for the time. So he would.
He arrived at the site in less than ten minutes. Scanning the area, he found a perfect spot to park under the shade of a sprawling oak tree. He reclined his seat and yawned. Worry over his financial situation had kept him from getting much sleep the past few nights. Veronica, however, had slept beside him like a carefree angel.
He opened the cooler on the seat next to him and took out the iced latte he’d picked up on the way over. A strong blast of caffeine would do him good. After downing half the drink, he settled in.
Less than an hour later he noticed a black SUV driving slowly past the house. Hadn’t Will mentioned that a similar vehicle had run the girl off the road yesterday? He picked up his tablet and checked his notes.
Yep. Black SUV. He raised his binoculars and copied the tag number. The SUV parked in a vacant lot a few houses down. A dark-haired man climbed out, looked around, then headed to Megan’s house.
Ed reached for his camera, then zoomed in before snapping a few shots, but he was at the wrong angle to capture the guy’s face. The man circled the house and disappeared. Ed checked his weapon and set his phone to silent. He eased his car door open and got out, quietly as he could. Seconds later, when a sanitation truck rolled into the neighborhood, he shoved his door closed, grateful for the noise.
He started after the man, keeping his eyes and ears focused. The grass muted his footsteps as he rounded the wood-framed building. He stayed close to the wall and fingered his gun, ready to draw it without hesitation.
A dark figure came into view. Definitely the same guy from the SUV, only now he was wearing a black ski mask. Ed drew his weapon and crept closer. The man had his hands cupped over a window. No denying he was up to no good.
Ed lifted his gun higher and took another step closer. The outline of what might be a pocketknife protruded from the man’s back pocket. “Put your hands in the air,” he commanded in his deepest cop voice. “My gun’s trained on your head, and I have a twitchy trigger finger.”
The man didn’t move.
“Now!”
Slowly the man raised his arms in the air. Ed eliminated the distance between them, then pulled the knife from the guy’s pocket. He shoved it into his jacket. Then he yanked off the ski mask and threw it on the ground before taking a step back. “Now turn around. Real easy.”
But the man didn’t budge. “I don’t remember hearing you say you were a cop.”
Something about the man’s voice sounded familiar. Probably just his imagination. “Nope. You didn’t. But it doesn’t look like you’re in any position to split hairs, if you know what I mean. Now turn the fuck around.”
“I’m a rich man. I assume you’re a neighborhood-watch volunteer or a security guard. I’m willing to pay you well, in cash, if you walk away and pretend this never happened.”
Ed snickered. “Funny. I haven’t encountered a whole lot of rich thieves. ’Course, I have met my share of politicians, so maybe that’s not entirely true. Face me before I blow your head off.”
The man turned around, and Ed gasped.
***
Will slid closer to Megan on the bed and drew in a breath of her vanilla scent. He snuggled against her back and set his arm on her hip. The contours of her body fit so perfectly with his. She squirmed closer, and his cock stirred.
I’m completely hopeless.
They’d made love less than an hour ago, and already he wanted her again. He reached for her breast, which fit his hand as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle. But if she’d seen it that way, she never would have left him. He had no right to think about forever. She needed a man who could always protect her.
Her breath hitched when he lightly pinched her nipple. “I thought we were taking a nap.”
He held back a laugh. “Who said
that?
”
“You did.”
“Oh yeah.” He strummed her peaked point.
She wriggled against him. “Will!”
He kissed the skin behind her ear. “I didn’t hear a no.”
A soft chuckle.
“Since there are apparently no objections, I move that we mess around again.” He rolled her onto her back and hovered over her on his hands and knees. His pulse quickened with need as he stared down at her luscious body—that flawless caramel skin and those sparkling amber eyes, the ripe breasts with nipples as stiff as pencil erasers. He lowered his head and plucked one, circled his tongue around it.
She arched her back and moaned. God, he yearned to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. He laved her breast, savored the irresistible salty-sweet taste of her skin. For so long he’d dreamed about her body, sure he’d never touch it again. He ought to memorize every inch of her.
He trailed kisses along her breastbone, over her shoulder and her neck and up to her cheek. Then he brushed his lips over hers. She opened her mouth to him, and he feasted on her tongue.
She parted her legs almost imperceptibly, but he noticed. He stroked his hand down her belly and rested it on her mound. She sighed into his mouth and lifted her hips higher, seeking his touch.
He broke the kiss, and she opened her eyes, silently questioning him. “Tell me what it is you want.” More than anything, he yearned to please her.
A rosy flush crept up her neck and over her face. She averted her gaze.
“Say it.”
She chewed at the corner of her lips. Was she purposely avoiding his eyes?
“Megan.”
Finally she looked at him.
“What do you want me to do?” He moved his hand away, and she whimpered.
She’d always been shy about such requests, but the few times he’d made her say them aloud, he could tell she found it as hot as he did.
“Well?”
“I want you to touch me.” She pursed her lips.
He moved onto his side and propped himself on one elbow. “Show me how.”
She widened her eyes and gulped. “You mean…”
He nodded, took her wrist and set her hand on the dark thatch of hair between her legs. “Show me what feels good.”
She hesitated at first, then slowly started rubbing herself. Her hips rocked, and she shut her eyes. He watched her intently, enthralled with the incredibly erotic view.
She slid her fingers along her pussy, gyrated her pelvis. Her movements gradually sped up. He shifted to get a better view. If memory served him, she loved for him to eat her after she came. He intended to please her in every way he could.
Her moans grew louder, hungrier. When her climax came, she cried out in familiar strains. Before she could recover, he settled his hands on her inner thighs and dragged his tongue along her furls, tasting her thick cream. She bucked and sighed. He licked her swollen nub, and she gasped. Holding on to her legs, he tested her entrance and found it slick with her juices. He drove his tongue deep.
Megan plowed her fingers through his hair as she twisted and shouted her delight, as if her orgasm had never ended or had started all over again.
His cock was so hard, so heavy with need. He needed to fuck her. He raised his head and captured her gaze. “Tell me how you want it, baby.”
“Hard. I want you to fuck me hard. Right now.” She reached to the nightstand for a condom. The second he’d sheathed himself, he rolled her onto her stomach. She lifted onto her hands and knees. He grinned into the mirror over the headboard. Gave him a great view of her face, as well as the rest of her.
He looked at her engorged bud—a flower for him to pluck—and couldn’t resist one last lick. She quivered and gasped. He couldn’t wait to slide into her drenched pussy. Grasping her hips, he eased into her entrance.
Primitive lust filled him. He thrust deeper but restrained from stroking as hard as he wanted, so he didn’t hurt her.
Holy God, she felt so good and tight. She let go a deliciously desperate whimper and pushed against him—all the encouragement he needed. Surrendering to his desire, he pumped into her, fast and hard, digging his fingers into her skin.
Her cries grew louder, more demanding. He plunged deep inside her, buried himself to his balls. She contracted around him, squeezing his cock with blissful pressure.
Grabbing fistfuls of the sheets, she rocked against him and ground her hips into his. “Oh God, Will. That…feels…so good. I’m…I’m…coming.” Her screams filled the small room with electrifying carnal energy. She writhed in pleasure, quivering and shaking and moaning.
Her satisfaction was more of an aphrodisiac than anything he could have imagined. His balls tightened with building pressure, hotter and hotter. His control shredded, and he exploded in a blinding orgasm. Throbbing and pulsing with ecstasy, he stroked a few more times, then leaned over her back, completely spent and blissed out.
She squeezed him with her inner muscles, extending his pleasure with every contraction. He circled his arms around to cup her breasts. Strumming her erect nipples, he grinned when she shuddered. The musky scent of their lovemaking filled his head as he lay her on her back.
Kissing her skin, he tasted the salty sheen of sweat that slicked her entire body. He wished she were the woman he’d make love to for the rest of his life. But he loved her too much to trust himself with her future.
***
A shiver rolled over Ed’s skin when he came face-to-face with his best client. Heavy silence filled the steamy air. “What the fuck, John?”
The other man pointed to Ed’s gun. “Lower that damn thing, would you?”
“I don’t think so. You want to tell me what you’re doing before I call the cops?” Ed racked his brain to make sense of the scene. Why would someone like John Jarity break into Megan’s house? Jarity stared at the gun. “Can I at least put my arms down?”
Ed scratched his head. He thought about the business Jarity threw his way. Security guards for his pawnshops, gift stores and warehouses. Christ, the guy was his single biggest client. Without Jarity’s account, no way would he be able to make his bills. Not to mention all the extra cash he’d need to take care of Veronica’s debts.