Stripped Naked (Naked Cowboys) (9 page)

“I thought I could catch you up on that in someplace more…” her voice trailed off as she looked around, ”…conducive to a personal conversation.”

“This is as personal as any conversation between us is going to get.”

Now the smile disappeared completely and an expression of regret mixed with sadness washed over her face. Dillon wondered how long she’d practiced it in front of a mirror to get it just right. He’d learned the hard way just what a consummate actress she was.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping we could have dinner tonight. Maybe talk about old times.” The smile was back. “Pick up where we left off.”

Dillon looked at her silently for a long moment, wondering if she’d really deluded herself into believing that such a thing was possible.

“I’ve managed to forget about those
old times
,” he said at last. “And I’m busy for dinner. If you want something specific, say your piece and get out of here. I’m busy.”

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she’d forgotten what a disaster their breakup had been.

“I was hoping that by now you’d have gotten passed that. When I heard you left the SAPD and took this job I was hoping it was because you’d moved on. Started a new life for yourself and maybe we could have a fresh start too.”

“Naomi.” Her name stuck in his throat like barbed wire. “It’s a little hard to get passed the fact that someone has broken your trust the way you did. Let’s forget for a moment that when I went to your place and opened the door—with the key you’d given me, by the way—I found you heating up the sheets with the big hot New York producer. That wasn’t the worst of it.”

“You don’t know how I regret that,” she said in a rush.

Dillon held up his hand.

“I’m not finished. You used me to get the inside information on a big case I was working so you could have your so-called scoop. Breaking it early the way you did made us move up our timetable. One of the unfortunate byproducts of that was me getting shot. That’s not something you ever get passed.”

He saw the moment she realized he wasn’t giving an inch. That she couldn’t get around him the way she used to. The way he’d always
let
her.

She looked around the office now with open curiosity. “So what made you decide to come out here to Noplace County? Licking your wounds?”

“Goddamn it.” He slammed his hand on the desk. “My
wounds
landed me in the hospital for two weeks and on disability leave for weeks after that.”

Color drained from her face. “I–I’m sorry, Dillon. That wasn’t what I meant.”

“And if you think I came here to forget about you, in a way you’re right. The people here are real. They’re genuine. You always know where you stand with them and who you can trust. Now, I have no idea why you aren’t in New York or why you’re sniffing around me again, but I haven’t got time for you. I’m busy.” He buzzed Sheila. “Would you mind coming back here and escorting Miss Richardson out? I wouldn’t want her to lose her way to the front door.”

“Right away, Sheriff.”

Naomi rose from her chair, her face pinched with anger. “We’re not done yet, Dillon. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. We were good together. I screwed it up and I’m sorry, but I’m not giving up.”

“Don’t waste your time,” he told her.

The door opened and Sheila stood there, her official smile on her face.

“Please follow me, Miss Richardson.”

For a moment, Dillon thought Naomi was going to refuse. Finally, she turned and followed Sheila toward the reception area.

Dillon leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, wiping his hand over his face. He felt sick to his stomach. He’d considered himself a lucky bastard when the two of them hooked up, the glamorous television reporter and the homicide detective. An unlikely duo, his partner kept telling him. But he, the loner, had fallen hard for her. That’s what had made the betrayal so much more intense. He’d wondered sometimes how he’d react if and when he saw Naomi again. Now he knew, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. If he could erase that time in his life from his memory, he would.

He wondered again just what she was doing here. Nothing good, that was for sure. He certainly hadn’t followed her career in New York, but there must be a damn good reason why she was here instead of there. He dampened the curiosity that edged into his brain. No, not going there. Whatever the reason, it had nothing to do with him and he didn’t give a flying fuck.

Unbidden, the image of Jinx Malone flashed into his brain. The connection between them had been raw and unexpected. The unbridled sexual attraction—raw lust—that he felt for her was beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. He ignored the buzzing of something that might be a strong emotional connection. Or the fact that despite the ten years in the Big Apple that had given her a patina of sophistication, there was something very real about her.

But facts were facts. She was a reporter and he had no way of knowing just how much difference there was, if any, between Naomi Richardson and Jinx. Naomi had screwed up a case so badly it had forced his partner and himself into a dangerous situation and resulted in him getting badly wounded. He had both the physical and emotional scars to show for that relationship.

He’d told himself no more relationships, reporters or otherwise. Looking forward to years alone because he had real trust issues wasn’t all that appealing, but it beat the alternative. People never thought about men putting their hearts out there and getting them broken. It violated man rules. He’d promised himself never to walk through that door again. Yet here he was trying to rationalize this attraction to Jinx Malone.

He gave himself a mental kick in the pants for sharing with her what little information he currently had on his investigation. He just hoped he hadn’t made a big mistake in doing so.

Or that he wasn’t making another one by going to her house tonight.

Just sex.

Pushing Jinx and X-rated thoughts of their upcoming night firmly to the back of his mind, he picked up his phone and dialed Charlie Whittaker’s number.

“I couldn’t give you this when you called,” his old boss began. “It’s a sensitive case and I had to get clearance to discuss it with you.”

“Appreciate it. So what’s landed in our collective laps?”

“We’re keeping way off the radar,” the man continued. “But I had a hunch as soon as you described the body to me, especially that part about the face blown away and the damage to the hands. Definitely halts identification.”

“So what have you got?” Dillon asked.

He could almost see Charlie shaking his head in irritation. “It’s the damndest thing, Dillon. Ever heard of the Pinnacle Hedge Fund?”

“Just vaguely. Way beyond my financial capabilities.”

“Know what you mean. Mine too. Anyway, one of their clients figured out there was something wrong with the statements he was getting, wanted to discuss the status of his account and got the royal brushoff.”

Dillon frowned. “That’s not such a good sign.”

“No kidding. So he decided to call for an audit, and surprise. Bernie Madoff all over again. A carefully constructed pyramid scheme with new investments paying off the old ones. And somehow the money has all disappeared.”

Dillon leaned forward, his interest definitely piqued. “Just gone?”

“Bank accounts all but cleaned out.”

“What do the partners say?”

“Funny you should ask.” Whittaker’s chuckle had a dry sound. “We’ve only been able to question one of them. Vince Drummond. He blames it all on the partner who’s suddenly gone missing. Bert Redmond. Says he didn’t know anything either, until the audit.”

“But you think he’s lying,” Dillon guessed.

“You got it. There’s just something about him that isn’t ringing true. Now with this body, well, the captain and I chewed it over. We think the body is Redmond’s, that Drummond’s the one who stole the money and has it stashed somewhere. As long as we keep looking for Bert, he’s in the clear.”

“And when everything dies down, he can relocate and start tapping into the funds.”

“But why dump the body so close to home?” Dillon asked. “Didn’t he think it would stick out like a sore thumb in a place as sparsely populated and rural as Rowan County?”

“Maybe he was afraid to make the dumping too complicated. Kill the guy, strip him down and dispose of him without having to make complicated arrangements.”

“So where do we go from here?” Dillon wanted to know.

“I’d like to send someone from forensics up there to get DNA from the body. We searched Redmond’s house and bagged his toothbrush just in case, so now we can see if it matches.”

“Go ahead. Just have whoever it is call me and give me a time so I can make sure everything’s ready.”

“Will do.” There was a pause. “Think maybe I can talk you into coming into the city one of these days for a drink or a cup of coffee?”

Dillon had not set foot in San Antonio since he’d given up his place there and headed to Rowan County with all his worldly goods in a big truck, towing his vehicle behind. He’d had no desire to ever go back again. And now, with Naomi back in the area, he definitely wanted to stay away.

“How about if you come up here?” he suggested. “I’ll give you the nickel tour and take you out for some good barbecue.”

After a moment, Charlie said, “If that’s what it takes to see you, we’ll make arrangements. I’ll call you. And forensics will give a shout when they’re ready to head out your way.”

After the call ended, Dillon sat back in his chair, letting his thoughts jump around. If the body was indeed the missing financier, Dillon could be drawn back into the San Antonio crime scene again. That meant the media.

And Naomi.

Was she back in the San Antonio media scene? He was pretty sure she hadn’t heard about the possible link to the corpse found in his county, so why was she here? Just to make his life miserable?

Shit.

He rubbed his temples, feeling the beginning of a headache. Why did his life have to keep getting complicated?

Chapter Five

Jinx felt like a bride on her wedding night.

No, scratch that. The less she remembered about her wedding and the years following it the better. She didn’t need those memories intruding on the night ahead.

Okay. Just call it what it was. A woman getting ready for her exciting lover.

And Dillon Cross was definitely exciting. As she soaked in a tub filled with scented bubbles, she recalled in vivid detail the prior night they’d spent together. He was an inventive and demanding lover, but he gave as much as he took. Just the thought of his hands and mouth on her, not to mention his delicious cock inside her was enough to almost make her come in the bathwater.

Draining the last of the white wine she’d brought into the bathroom with her, she set the glass on the floor and stood up. Water sluiced from her skin as she stepped out and reached for a big soft bath towel. She hummed to herself as she slathered scented lotion everywhere on her body, rubbing some into the secret places he liked to explore. Brushing her hair until it shone, she shook her head so the strands would fall loose in what she hoped was a sexy way.

Minimal makeup. Jinx wasn’t and had never been one of those women who made up her face for bed as if photographers were coming. Maybe that was another reason Max had sought stimulation in other places. He had never seemed quite comfortable with the private her as opposed to the public her.

Stop. Don’t think about him. Don’t let him ruin tonight.

The great thing about a relationship that was just sex was you didn’t have to worry about impressing or entertaining your partner. Except, of course, in bed. The menu didn’t include long conversations or all the other usual getting-to-know-you things. Of course, that didn’t mean you just fell on each other like rutting animals. Although Jinx swallowed a smile as she remembered the first time when haste had been so important. No, it meant seduction, teasing, arousing each other beyond the boiling point. Being inventive.

From the bottom drawer of her dresser where it still lay in its original tissue paper, she drew the sheer midnight-black shortie gown she’d bought before the divorce. At the time, she’d had some wild idea about setting up the perfect seduction scene with Max to celebrate their anniversary. Surprising him. Well, the surprise had been on her. But she’d kept the gown, hoping that one day she might have the opportunity to wear it in the right situation.

That day had come.

She was in the kitchen opening the bottle of white wine she’d had chilling when the doorbell rang. And suddenly she was hit by an attack of nerves. What if he was just coming here to tell her he’d changed his mind? What if things got hot and heavy again and he had second thoughts right in the middle?

The bell rang again, more insistently.

Don’t give yourself a panic attack. This is what you want. Be a big girl and take it.

“I thought maybe you’d decided to forget the whole thing,” Dillon said as she opened the door.

“Oh, no.” She swallowed and rubbed her hands against the fabric of the gown. “I was just in the kitchen getting the wine.”

His gaze took in every bit of her body, barely concealed beneath the flimsy material. Heat flared in his eyes and his breathing hitched.