Bare It All

chapter FIFTEEN

ALICE BIT INTO the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and thought it tasted better than anything she’d eaten in years. Her world felt...brighter, an enormous weight lifted off her shoulders.

She’d shared her biggest shame, and yet Reese hadn’t turned away. He was such a good man, a detective even, and yet he didn’t blame her.

It meant so much, more than she’d realized was possible. “Before I go to bed, I think I’ll email my mom and dad.”

“I’m sure they’d love that.” He set a glass of milk in front of her. “But why not a phone call?”

“It’s late and I don’t want to wake them.” They’d been apart so long now, she’d prefer to ease into things. An email, a request to visit...

Maybe even a reunion, this time without all the barriers of her shame and their regret.

Reese filled his own glass with milk, took his seat next to her and gave her such a severe, serious look that she almost squirmed.

He lifted his sandwich. “You’re okay now?”

“I won’t sob on you anymore.” How humiliating that she’d left his chest wet with her tears. “I’m sorry about falling apart.”

“Don’t be.” He ate half the sandwich in a single bite. “I’m glad you told me.”

She was glad, too. It felt better not to carry the burden alone. “Thank you for letting me.”

Because he’d more or less insisted, he shook his head.

“I’m not really much of a crier.” She pulled at the crust on her bread. “There never seemed to be much point.”

“Everyone gets emotional now and then, and you certainly had reason.”

“I bet you don’t cry when you get emotional.”

His smile went crooked. “No, but I hit up the gym and lift weights until my entire body aches.”

Eyeing that awesome body, Alice could believe it. “That helps you to get things back in balance?”

Shrugging one boulder shoulder, Reese said, “It expends energy. Sometimes I run, too, but usually I do that just because I enjoy it. It’s a good time to think about things, to put them in perspective.”

“Things with your job?” she asked, and then digging a bit more, added, “Or with personal relationships?”

“Usually the job.” He turned his milk glass just a little, his thoughts hidden from her. “Rapes, missing teens... Those cases get to me more than murder sometimes.” His gaze met hers. “Many of the murders we see are between creeps. Bad deals that got out of hand. That sort of thing.”

Alice’s heart pounded. “So...you’re saying when a really bad guys dies, it’s hard to mourn him.”

“Impossible, actually. I do my job. I follow all the leads. I uphold justice. But I’m not going to lose sleep over it.”

Would he feel that way if he ever knew the extent of what she’d done?

Reese’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. “But a kid alone on the streets, or a woman who’s been brutalized, yeah, that plagues me.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Once is too often, you know? We get domestic abuse calls all the time. Usually it’s drinking that got out of hand, and the one who called us regrets it later. Once we’re involved, we’re involved.”

“I think that’s a very good rule, actually.”

“Yeah, me, too. Because you just never know.” He blew out a disgusted breath. “Last year there was a case of a man who’d used his wife as a punching bag too damn many times. Our first call there was due to a neighbor. The wife denied being hurt.” Reese tightened all over. “But she had bruises, and there was something in her eyes....”

Swallowing became difficult; Alice had seen that look too many times, on too many women.

She’d even seen it...while looking in the mirror.

His hand on the tabletop curled into a fist. “Once we got involved, we found a macabre history of broken bones and concussions.” Deliberately, he shook himself out of those memories. “She’d married him when she was sixteen. For twelve years she put up with that abuse.”

“I hope he got a very tough punishment.”

“If death is tough enough.”

Oh, God. “You didn’t...?”

Reese shook his head. “The bastard went after the neighbor who’d called the cops. He broke in, drunk and raging.” With satisfaction, he said, “The neighbor shot him dead. Self-defense. He had a permit for the weapon. No charges were brought against him.”

Alice bit her lip. “The woman?”

“Last I heard, she went home to her family, and they were attending counseling together.”

Alice sincerely hoped the woman was happier now. She had not a single doubt that Reese would have done everything in his power to ensure that outcome. “You’re very good at your job.”

He gave a short laugh. “I hope so. At the very least, I’m as honorable as I can be.”

“Of course you are.” She couldn’t imagine a more honorable man.

“I appreciate your faith.” He sent her a smile. “You know we had some corruption at the department. Having crooked cops around complicates everything. Peterson has a handle on that now, but cleaning house is going to leave us shorthanded for a while. I’ve got a stack of shit on my desk, open cases that I need to get to.”

“I understand.” She had her own workload piling up. “I suppose on Monday, we’ll get back to business.”

He eyed her. “I have a feeling that you, Alice, will be my business.”

“You mean personally?” It still amazed her that Reese wanted her. Not as much as she always wanted him, but enough.

He shrugged. “With what Rowdy told me, probably professionally, too.” He finished off the other half of his sandwich, watching her as he chewed. “Speaking of that...since you’re feeling better now, let’s get on with the rest.” He nudged her plate toward her. “You can talk while you eat.”

So he’d only fed her to help her regain control? Considerate and practical. “What happened today, you mean?”

“Yeah, that.” Crossing his arms on the table, he scowled at her. “What the hell, Alice?”

The sudden shift in his tone left her feeling defensive. How could he forgive her for what she’d taken part in—forced or otherwise—so long ago, but take issue with her for getting involved now? “She needed help.”

“Apparently so. But what you did was reckless, and it’s as likely you could have been caught and hurt instead of helping her.”

What he said...she’d realized that all on her own. “I know. That’s why I was thinking I need to be better equipped, and I need to get a better plan.”

Reese choked. Coughing and wheezing, he held up a hand to fend off her assistance. After finishing off more milk, he took a moment, his shoulders bunched, his expression dire.

When he caught his breath, Alice didn’t give him a chance to start lecturing. “She had a bandage loosely wrapped around her arm. I thought she’d been hurt, Reese, maybe wounded.”

Incredulous, he stared at her. “And so you decided to jump into the middle of it?”

Okay, so that sounded bad. Alice tried to reassure him. “Turned out she wasn’t injured at all. She’d just gotten a new tattoo.”

That got Reese’s attention, not that he hadn’t already been focused on her with the force of a laser beam. “A tattoo?”

“Still red and swollen.” Alice chewed her bottom lip, remembering. “I found her at the mall parking lot, and it seemed to me she’d just gotten it, probably someplace close. Like maybe only a few hours before. The tattoo was part of why she was so upset.”

Reese stared at her. “What did it look like?”

She tried to picture it in her mind. “An odd design made up of numbers and lines twining together.” Knowing it was important, she said, “Cheryl told me that the tattoo is used as identification for people carrying drugs—mules, I think she said they’re called. The lines and numbers indicate what drugs are being carried, where they’re from and how much they’ll cost.”

His eyes flared. “No f*cking way.”

Alice frowned at him for the language. “I know, unbelievable, right?” For the next twenty minutes she relayed everything that had happened. She didn’t skip a single detail since, clearly, Rowdy had already spilled the beans.

With every word out of her mouth, Reese looked more livid.

Somehow, Alice had to make him understand. “Cheryl was not transporting drugs by choice. She’d moved to the area to be near a guy—I don’t know his name because she didn’t say. But the relationship, at least on his part, was just a ruse, a way to lure her in. He told her that if she loved him, she’d move the drugs for him.”

Though his gaze darkened, Reese stayed eerily silent.

“There are more, Reese. Cheryl said that Hickson—the creep I left bound in that disgusting motel—gets the girls tattooed. I don’t know who he works for, though. Cheryl did a lot of crying, and she kept worrying that I might be with some competing drug dealer or something, but I believe the girls are coerced, maybe even forced to transport drugs.” As Alice spoke, her temper rose again. “I’m certain they’re tattooing them against their will.”

Reese looked stunned by her deductions. Did he think she was too naive to piece it together? It didn’t take a genius—or a detective—to see the truth.

Thinking of how Cheryl had tried to scrub away the tattoo, Alice leaned in closer to Reese, anxious to help. “I remember the van that brought her to the mall parking lot. And the truck I followed, too. I didn’t think to memorize a license plate, darn it, but it occurs to me that they probably met at the mall because the tattoo parlor is nearby.”

Alarm had Reese’s shoulders going rigid. “Stop right there.”

Driven by new urgency, Alice tuned him out. “I could visit the area, maybe look around a little. I might see the van or truck again.”

“Alice—”

“Nothing dangerous this time,” she said with a flap of her hand. “I could just check out the locations of the local tattoo parlors.”

His hands locked onto the edge of the table. “No.”

“Maybe I could even stroll inside to see if anyone had a design like that and—”

He shoved back his chair. “No.”

“—because I might be able to match up the tattoo artist with the design.”

Eyes red and nostrils flared, Reese jerked to his feet and loomed over her.

His mood finally sank in, and Alice stared up at him, bemused. “You’re upset with me?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again. His jaw clenched. His big hard hands curled into fists.

“Reese?”

After running a hand over his head, he pointed at her and snarled—actually snarled, “I think you’re f*cking wonderful, remember that.”

“Oh. Okay.” F*cking wonderful? What did that mean?

“But,” he said, his tone hard edged, “what you did today—not a year ago, Alice, but today—was as foolhardy as it gets.”

Fascinated, Alice watched him.

He dismissed her awful connection to a wretched human trafficker, but was outraged over her saving a single girl?

Knowing he didn’t blame her gave her new confidence. He was right that Murray would have replaced her. Without Reese, she never would have considered that.

But now, with Reese, she felt like she could actually deal with the past, possibly bury it once and for all, and make a difference in the future.

She smiled at him.

He didn’t smile back. The seconds passed in silence.

Pivoting away from her, Reese pulled out his cell phone.

A little deflated by that reaction, Alice waited as he punched in a single speed-dial number. She was somewhat curious who he’d call right now, but more wary than anything else.

“Logan?” Reese stared at her while he spoke into the phone. “I’ve got a problem.” His jaw ticked when he nodded. “Yes, Alice.”

Frowning, Alice straightened in her seat. So, now she was a problem? She had rescued a woman. Why couldn’t he see past everything else to what good had been done?

Reese held her gaze. “We need to bring her in for questioning.” He nodded. “I know.”

For questioning? To a police station? Oh, but...

“Peterson should be there.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Rowdy, too. Yeah, he stepped in it while chasing after her. I can explain everything in more detail tomorrow. No, I won’t.” His attention all but pinned her in place. “She won’t be out of my sight.”

So...did that mean he’d be spending the night with her again? Given his current mood, he might want to sleep on the couch. She hoped not. She wanted him back in her bed.

She wanted him again—period.

* * *

“ONE LAST THING.” Reese walked over to her, put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face. “We have a vigilante running around.”

Uh-oh. Alice tried to shake her head, to caution him against sharing that, but Reese held her chin.

“He carries a lot of clout, had cooperation from the law and apparently he’s good enough to kill Alice’s kidnapper without anyone knowing who he is.”

Oh, no. Alice’s heart sank. She couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let someone else take the blame for what had occurred that day.

Her rescuer hadn’t killed her kidnapper.

Alice had taken care of that herself.

* * *

THE ROCK-SOLID FIST struck him in the gut, knocking him back into the wall where his head smacked hard. Stars danced behind his eyes, and his guts ached. He thought he might puke.

But Hickson took the punishing blow without fighting back. What other choice did he have?

“One girl dead, and now another on the loose.” The icy gaze drilled into him, driven by disgust and rage. “I should f*cking kill you.”

Shaking his head, as much to clear it as to offer a denial, Hickson said, “That wasn’t my fault.”

“Not your fault? You let a woman best you? You let her shackle you to a wall?”

When Woody Simpson, the boss, got in these moods, there was no reasoning with him. But he had to try, anyway. “I didn’t mean for Marcia to die. She flipped out after getting the tat, screaming bloody murder. I only hit her once to shut her up.”

“You hit her hard enough for her to fall and crack her skull on the concrete.”

“Well...yeah.” It’d been plain dumb luck that she’d crumpled like that. In hindsight, he knew he should have just muffled her and waited until he had her in the motel, on the mattress, to smack her around.

Woody backhanded him this time, but with the brass knuckles in place, it hurt the same as a punch. He tasted blood.

Phelps and Lowry snickered, the bastards. They’d been riding his ass ever since they found him bound in the room. “That other bitch had a Taser, and she damn near killed me with it.”

Woody laughed without humor. “Why didn’t you disarm her first thing?”

“I didn’t know she was like that! She looked like a mouse. Like a schoolteacher or a librarian. Said she was lost and just needed to use my phone.”

“You’re a f*cking idiot, Hickson. You know that, right?”

He rubbed his goatee and swallowed his pride. “Yeah, I know.”

“I want you to find her.”

“Cheryl, or...the bitch that jolted me?”

“Yes.”

Hickson shook his head again, this time bewildered. “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t know her name. She could be anyone.”

“You said she helped Cheryl? That was all about doing a good deed for the twit?”

“Yeah.” Hickson brightened as he remembered. “Yeah, she got riled up when Cheryl cried.”

“So, go to Cheryl.”

Hickson went blank.

Rolling his eyes, Woody strode to his desk. “Cheryl probably went running home to Mommy and Daddy. I have her address. Get her alone, and get her to talk. She probably knows the woman, or at least knows a way to get in touch with her again.”

“If she doesn’t?”

“Find out what you can.” Woody handed over a slip of paper with an address on it. “Cheryl should at least know the make of her car, if nothing else. You better hope it’s enough for me to extinguish this problem, and fast. Because if it’s not, if that woman causes me any more trouble, you’ll be the one to pay.”

Straightening away from the wall, Hickson accepted the address. He had a reprieve, and he wouldn’t blow it. “When I find her, what do you want me to do with her?”

Woody sat back in his desk chair and smiled. “Bring her to me.”

* * *

REESE REMAINED IN an odd, antagonistic mood. Alice thought it might be from worry, but she didn’t know what to do about it.

She wasn’t a woman who could ignore the pain of others. Never again.

While Reese spent an inordinate amount of time outside with Cash, she’d emailed her family, sending them her love and apologizing for being so distant. She told them she now realized her mistake withdrawing, and promised to visit very soon.

Every so often, she’d peeked out at Reese, but no one bothered him. He sat in the grass, tossing sticks for Cash, playing with the dog, even wrestling with him a little.

Seeing him like that put a lump in her throat and a smile on her face. He was such an amazing man, so caring, so decent—the antithesis of the monsters who had used Cheryl.

When he finally came in, she was ready for bed.

He went into the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth, then into the bedroom. Uncertain, Alice trailed after him, watched him take off a shirt, strip off his slacks. Wearing only those dark sexy boxers, he turned to her.

With iron will, she forced her attention to stay on his face. “Will you stay here with me tonight?”

His brow went up. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I mean here.” She gestured awkwardly at the bed. “In the bedroom, in bed with me, instead of the couch.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” She nodded hard. “Very much.”

On his way to the bed, he said, “I appreciate that you’re always honest with me, Alice.”

A gibe? Because, seriously, he knew she wasn’t always, entirely honest.

Now, as midnight came and went, Alice knew she couldn’t sleep. Not like this.

Not with Reese still irate.

His body remained tensed, his arms behind his head instead of around her.

Her awareness of him was so keen that she felt the lack of his affection like a douse of ice water.

So unfair.

At the foot of the bed, Cash snored, every so often running in his sleep. The dog jerked again, and Reese moved his foot against him, saying, “Shhh...”

Cash settled.

Alice glanced toward Reese, but in the darkness she couldn’t see much more than his outline. It was torture, being with him like this, but with invisible barriers keeping them apart.

An accusation escaped her before she could think better of it. “If you didn’t want to get busy, you shouldn’t have stripped down.”

A moment of stillness nearly smothered her, then slowly, oh, so slowly, Reese turned his head toward her. She prepared herself for his annoyance, more of his anger.

He said, “Get busy?”

“That’s what Rowdy calls it.”

She heard a sound—maybe of his teeth sawing together.

“Rowdy is very informative,” she told him.

The bed dipped as Reese came up to an elbow. “I wish you’d stop talking about Rowdy.”

But Rowdy had given her so much hope. He’d said all it would take was Reese seeing her naked, and he’d be ready and willing.

Instead, she saw him in nothing more than boxers, and she was the one who wanted to die of lust.

“He’s been helpful.” So helpful, in fact, maybe she should try out one of his suggestions.

Reese dropped flat in the bed again.

Enough already. Determination got Alice’s feet to the floor in seconds. She found the lamp on the nightstand and turned it on.

Momentarily blinded, she shielded her eyes.

Reese did the same. “What are you doing?”

“I’m testing Rowdy’s theory.”

Up on one elbow again, he frowned. “What theory?”

Cash gave them both a sleepy look and bounded down off the bed. He went over to the closet, dropped down with a huff and curled up to sleep with his nose close to his rump.

Working up her courage, Alice looked back at Reese. “This theory.” She reached beneath her gown and took off her panties, then made a show of tossing them aside.

Going utterly still, Reese said nothing. His gaze burned over her, hot, expectant, before settling on her face.

He waited.

Alice drew a fortifying breath, thought of the rewards of brazenness and peeled the nightgown up and over her head. The cool wash of the air-conditioning tightened her nipples.

Reese wasn’t shading his eyes anymore, and he no longer looked angry.

Buoyed by his rapt attention, she straightened in front of him, naked head to toe.

Reese’s chest expanded. His biceps bunched.

Alice chewed her bottom lip. Interest definitely sharpened his demeanor, but Rowdy had led her to believe he’d react differently. More...physically.

Had she expected him to jump her?

Yes, she’d been hopeful.

Shaking her hair back over her shoulders and lifting her chin, she tried staring him down. “Say something.”

Reese lifted an eyebrow over the order. He did a slow visual examination, pausing to scrutinize her breasts, her belly.

Between her thighs.

“How did you scrape your knee?”

Disappointed that he hadn’t made a move yet, she shrugged and said, “I think it happened when I knelt down to cut the air valves off Hickson’s tires.”

His gaze hardened. “I hope like hell no one will be able to track you down from that stunt.”

His concern made her feel guilty. “No one is after me, Reese. I promise, I’m fine.”

He looked over the length of her legs. “Yes, you are.”

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he tossed back the sheet and got out of bed.

A very noticeable erection strained his snug boxers. Alice braced herself, excitement unfurling...but instead of coming to her, he went to the door.

Watching Reese leave the room, Alice felt wretched, dejected, exposed... Until he returned with something in his hand. “Cash, you want a treat?”

The dog had been ignoring them, but at Reese’s offer, he rolled to his feet with a lurch.

When Reese led Cash out of the room, Alice hurriedly got in the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Insane, but now she felt shy. Who knew seducing a man was so nerve-racking?

Reese walked back in, stalled when he saw her bundled in the middle of the mattress, but then continued on to the bed. He sat down beside her. “Have a change of heart?”

“No.” Definitely not that.

“Then, what’s this?” He gave a gentle tug to the blankets.

“I don’t know.” And then with annoyance, “You just stared at me.”

“That’s bound to happen every time I see you naked, so you may as well get used to it.”

Clutching the blankets tighter, she wondered if that meant he’d be around for the long haul, that he’d want to see her naked a lot. “I wasn’t all that sure you were interested.”

Reese considered her, stood—and pushed out of his boxers.