Shattered Souls (17 page)

Cait blanched. The truth wasn’t nearly so cut-and-dried. And she’d borne the guilt of what really happened ever since. “You want to know about me and Morin? I’ll tell you. But it’s so far in my past, it doesn’t mean a thing anymore.”

“He still looks at you like he cares.”

“That’s because he does. That emotion doesn’t mean there could ever be anything between us ever again.” Cait rolled onto her side, away from Sam, because she didn’t want him studying her face like he would a criminal’s. “I lied to my mother. I told her I had a date for the prom, but I didn’t. She bought me a dress, even let me choose something she thought was inappropriate because she was so relieved I was going out with a boy.

“It was this…Grecian thing…one strap on the side, a brooch was all that held it up. I didn’t want pastels like all the girls were wearing. I chose a pretty, dark green satin with a filmy overskirt. She did my hair, put it up high with ringlets falling from the crown. She said I looked like a goddess.” A twinge of guilt tightened her chest. “Then she dropped me at the gym because I told her my date didn’t have a car and would meet me there. As soon as she left the parking lot I hired one of the cabs that had just dropped off some kids and had the driver take me to Morin’s.”

Moonlight streamed in from a window in the roof, illuminating everything, including the shape of him resting beneath the covers. She crept up the stairs, her pretty sandals held in her hand, and drew close to the bed. Her heart pounded so loudly she didn’t know how he couldn’t hear.

“What are you doing here, Caitlyn?”

His voice was soft, a muffled texture, like she’d just woken him. He wiped a hand over his face and let out a deep breath before pushing up to sit.

His legs were splayed beneath the covers, and she couldn’t help gazing down between them. His cock was a gentle mound.

“Do you like my dress?” she asked, and twirled in a circle, feeling feminine and silly at the same time.

“Stop it. You should go home. You don’t belong here.”

“Why’s that, Morin? Because my mother warned you off? Or because you don’t want me?”

He stayed silent so long she took courage, knowing he considered lying, but he wanted her too much. She could tell by the way his body betrayed him, the gentle mound growing and lifting the coverlet. With a quick move, she opened the brooch and let the soft fabric drift down to the floor.

“I got into his bed, nude. He grabbed my arms to hold me off, but I kissed him until he couldn’t tell me no.”

“How many times?” Sam asked, his voice unnaturally even.

She shot him a glare. “Seriously?”

Glacier-blue eyes stared right back from his implacable face.

“Just that once, not that it’s really any of your business. My mother died not too long after. When he didn’t bother to come to her funeral, I wrote him off.” Cait turned her body toward Sam. “Are we done? I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“You dreamed about him. Maybe you still have feelings for him.”

“I dream about you all the time.”

Sam’s Mt. Rushmore expression relented. He lay back, his eyes glittering as he stared at the ceiling. “I dream about you too,” he said quietly.

“Must be nightmares,” she quipped, hoping to lighten his mood.

“Not always.” He reached out an arm and pulled her against his body, settling her close so every curve rode his. “We’ll have to get up in a minute.”

She sighed and snuggled closer, glad he didn’t ask her anything else. If he’d wanted the dirty details, she’d have given them to him, but he’d never have looked at her the same. She knew it. “Sam, do you think you might want…” She cleared her throat. “When this is all over…”

“I don’t know. We’ll see.”

Those words were better than a flat denial. And enough for now. She rested her cheek on his chest and listened to the reassuring sounds of his heart. Its steady, faithful beat drowned out the faint whispers.

Chapter Fourteen

Sam hit the homicide department in the Criminal Justice Complex first thing, glad of a chance to get away from Cait and clear his head. Lying in her bed, holding her close after she’d told him about Morin, he’d felt like an idiot. He’d been married to this woman, been her partner even longer, but he’d never known a thing about her past. Never thought to ask.

The things she’d revealed made him wish he’d kept things shallow. Inch deep.
Or seven.
He’d have been better able to walk away when they ended this investigation. Now his emotions were getting involved, something he’d sworn would never happen again.

An ex-wife who was a boozer was easy to consign to the past. This Cait—this complicated, fascinating, anything-but-ordinary woman—was digging deeper into his heart. The story she’d told him about her crush on Morin had only deepened the pain. She was a lot softer than he’d ever thought. Vulnerable in a way that left him breathless.

The moment Sam entered the lieutenant’s office, he felt a distinct chill.

Leland glanced up from his gray metal desk. “Where’s O’Connell?”

“Back at her office,” he said, aiming a thumb over his shoulder. “You want her here?”

“Hell no.” Leland’s hard glare lightened, and he tilted his head to the side as he studied Sam. “You do know she’s trouble, right? That fact hasn’t changed one iota.”

Sam stiffened, wondering where this was leading. Leland wasn’t one to get personal. “Yes, sir.”

“She was lucky she got out of here with her reputation intact. I let her resign out of respect for her father. I knew him, did you know that?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“Good man. No funny business there. His wife, however…” He shook his head. “Messy business, that.”

He eased his weight down to the chair. “You call me in to talk about Cait’s parents?”

A glint of annoyance flashed in Leland’s steel-colored eyes. “No, I wanted to catch you up on the
po
-lice work your team’s been doin’. You’re still interested in the investigation, aren’t you? Unless chasing your ex-wife’s tail’s more important now.”

Sam’s gaze aimed daggers his way, but he gritted his teeth rather than telling his boss he’d stepped over a line. For some reason, Leland seemed to want to pick a fight. Sam didn’t have the time or inclination to worry about what had tied a knot in the LT’s shorts. “Have the guys found anything?”

Leland tossed two files across the desk. “Two more women are missing. Had to bring Missing Persons into the investigation.” He gave a smile that looked more like a snarl. “You know how happy that makes me.”

Since homicide considered themselves somewhat elite, Sam knew Leland likely felt like cockroaches had invaded the division. Again, not something Sam gave a shit about.

“Both young,” Leland said. “Disappeared the same day as the Farmington girl. We can’t find a single connection among the three. One was a prostitute, the other a day care worker. But they’re gone. Not a trace, and no jealous boyfriends. Or so the wonderful folks in MPU say.”

Sam picked up the files and flipped through them. He looked at the pictures. Both had round faces that made them look younger than their years. Both looked innocent, even the prostitute, but perhaps the photo had been taken before real life left its mark. He checked the statements. She hadn’t been hooking for very long.

Leland leaned across the desk. “You really think this Donnelly has something to do with all this? Doesn’t seem smart enough to elude us. Or physically strong enough to have wrestled with Henry. He’s got a couple of busts for possession and a DUI, but nothing to indicate he’s violent. It’s been hard trying to find an address because he hasn’t lived at the one on his license for three years. The one he gave on his job application to the university was bogus.”

Sam met his silver glare with a calm one of his own. “We’ll just have to keep digging.”

Leland’s next smile looked pained. “O’Connell get any weird vibes?”

Sam felt a tic pulse beside his eye. “Sir, Cait doesn’t vibe.”

“Well, whatever it is she does,” Leland said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Is there nothin’ she’s been able to pick up on? I’m beginnin’ to wonder why we need her at all.”

“Sir, I’d never have checked out the dig site if she hadn’t insisted. Wouldn’t have known we were looking for Donnelly if he hadn’t tried to blow us up.”

“She’s got good instincts, when she isn’t swimmin’ in alcohol. Always did. Henry swore by her.” He shook his head. “Poor bastard.”

Sam dropped the folders back on Leland’s desk and stood. “Look, keep me in the loop, but Cait and I have some more leads to follow this afternoon.”

“Anything I wanna to know about?” his boss asked, no small hint of distaste in his voice.

Sam wondered how much Leland really knew about Cait. He’d known her mother. “We find anything solid, we’ll be sure to let you know.” He left, pulled out his phone, and tapped in Cait’s number.

She answered on the third ring.

Her grumpy hello made him smile. From the moment she’d crawled out of bed that morning her hackles had been up. He guessed she’d needed the added armor after all she’d shared. “Where are you?”

“Just briefed Jason. He’s got nothing from Lisa’s friends.”

He stared at the ceiling and ground his teeth. “Not what I asked.”

She huffed. “On my way to Morin’s.”

“Not without me you’re not,” he growled. “Same location?”

“You got that, huh? As long as I have the key, he’ll be in the same alley.”

“Be there in five.”

Cait watched Sam’s sedan slide to a halt beside the curb. She stuck both hands in her pockets and put on a neutral face. He’d been angry at just the mention of Morin’s name. The thought of her going alone had sent him ballistic. She could hear it in every terse word he’d barked into her ear.

Last night she’d been mildly amused, then concerned. Today she was annoyed by his jealousy. She’d told him nothing existed between her and Morin, not anymore. At the same time, she liked that he was so possessive. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t give a damn whether she went there for a cup of tea or to jump into Morin’s bed.

Sam strode up to where she waited at the mouth of the alley. Before she could turn, his arm encircled her. He pulled her against his chest and lowered his head.

The kiss wasn’t the least bit subtle. Hard, hot—it was like a brand on her lips. When he lifted his head, his gaze went to her mouth.

She knew it was red, her lips swelling, and she guessed that was the point. He wanted Morin to see his mark on her.

Cait raised an eyebrow. “Miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head.”

“That’s what I thought,” she drawled. When he straightened and dropped his arm, she reached for his hand, and then they strode down the alley to the shop. She fished in her pocket for the key, closed her fingers around it, and then waited while Sam opened the door. Once it swung inward, she pulled Sam inside behind her.

“So good to see you again, Sam Pierce,” Morin’s deep voice called from a distance. He stood on the upper level amid the bookshelves. His eyes glittered in the soft lamplight when his gaze flicked to her. “Cait? Nice to see you, darling.”

Sam cursed softly beside her, but she gave his hand a hard squeeze. “I have something to show you. Something solid you might be able to help us with.” She released her hold on Sam, but he didn’t let her go. She shook her hand, mindful that Morin watched their little interplay.

Morin’s eyes narrowed, and a smile spread slowly across his face. “You told him about us, and he’s not happy.”

Sam fisted both hands on his hips. “She was a kid. We have laws against that sort of thing.”

Cait rolled her eyes.

Morin gave an indolent shrug. “She was…mature for her age. And quite persuasive.”

Despite the fact that she loved it when Sam got that dead-eye, scary gleam in his eyes, Cait stepped between them. “Stop it, both of you. That’s not why we’re here. Try to keep it about the job, Sam.”

Sam breathed deeply and let go of her hand, but his stare remained locked on Morin.

Her gaze went from Sam to Morin, and she gave Morin a frown because he was enjoying Sam’s macho display a little too much. “You really need to get a new hobby,” she muttered.

“But this one’s so amusing.” He laughed at her scowl. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

“I have so much to tell you.” She pulled the crest from her jacket pocket and strode toward the steps. “I hope you have time.”

He shrugged. “I have all the time in the world, love. Oh, you were just being polite?”

“Crazy things have been happening. Some related to the case we’re investigating. Some…personal.” She halted a step below him. “I burned my mother’s spell bag, and nothing’s been the same since.”

Morin’s dark eyes softened. “It was time, Caitlyn, for you to discover some things about yourself.”

“Well, that part’s interesting, but not really urgent. We found this yesterday.” She held out the crest.

His hands stayed by his sides, his gaze focused on the emblem. Color leached from his face.