Murder Mayhem and Mama

“Me, too,” Quarles said. “I talked Adams into it when I heard you were on it.”


Brit leaned against the wall, trying not to look at the blood smeared on the floor. But damn, he’d seen too much death this month. “You didn’t even know Keith.”

“He was a fellow officer. That’s all I need to know.”

“Yeah.” Brit stepped outside on the porch and took a deep breath, hoping to cleanse himself of the images. “Keep an eye on her. I’ll be there soon.”

~

Soon turned into three hours. It had taken him an hour to fill out the dreaded report and another two to find Rina Newman and get her under police protection and set up in a hotel. She’d insisted on it being a five star. Brit hadn’t argued. If Adams refused to pay for it, not having her death on his conscience was worth the price of a fancy hotel for a few days.

The way he figured it, Rina had tipped someone off about Payne’s slip of the tongue or Payne had done it himself. Either way, whoever had gotten Payne could get to Rina. Brit didn’t think his conscience could take another hit.

Quarles wasn’t happy when he finally returned to Cali’s motel, and neither was Brit. He looked at his partner. “I told Adams you were chasing leads on the jewelry heist murder,” he informed him.

“You mean you lied.” Quarles’ tone rang with frustration.

“Humphrey is a lead on the jewelry heist.”

“Yeah, then why didn’t you just tell them I was here babysitting?”

Brit didn’t answer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started toward the motel room door, wanting nothing more than to crawl into the bed with Cali and lose himself to sleep. Okay, maybe he’d like to lose himself in her. But that wasn’t an option.

“Hey.” Quarles’ voice brought Brit around. Concern darkened the man’s eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”

Brit squared off, not wanting to appear weak. “Yeah, but I’ve met my quota on seeing dead people for the month.”

“Hell of a way to make a living, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Brit waved and let himself in, quietly. Cali, asleep on her stomach, lay on his side of the bed. Well, the side he’d slept on for the last two evenings. She didn’t stir, and he hoped she wouldn’t because she might push him away. He took his gun out and quietly set it on the nightstand as he toed off his shoes. Then he stripped off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. Out of habit, he undid his jeans and started to push them down when he caught himself. Would she balk that he’d stripped down to his boxers? Oh, hell, he was too tired to care. He shucked off his jeans and socks. Careful not to let his weight shift the mattress, he crawled in beside her and pulled the cover up over his waist.

Staring at the ceiling, he questioned if even her magic would bring him sleep tonight. The snapshots began to play inside his head—Keith, the dead men in the hotel, and now Payne.

A soft sigh escaped the sleeping woman beside him. Brit held his breath and hoped like hell that she didn’t wake up and ask him to go. Instead, she rolled over, found his shoulder and rubbed her soft cheek against his bare chest. Her hand dropped to rest low on his abdomen and he rode the wave of pleasure that followed her feather-light touch. The softness of her breasts melted against his side and his loose boxers suddenly felt tight.

He swallowed and tried to just enjoy having her close, because he knew he couldn’t have more. But why couldn’t he? Obviously, all the blood he needed to work his brain had gone to other parts of his body, and he struggled to remember why he couldn’t dip his head down and taste her mouth again, to let his hands roam up and under that T-shirt, to— “I’m not having sex with you.”

Yup, there was the reason he couldn’t make a move. Now. When he made a move, and yes, he figured he eventually would, it would be when she was wide awake.

She turned her head and the wispy feel of her hair flowing across his chest actually brought a smile to his lips. Drawing in a careful breath, he let her scent fill his lungs.

Hearing the even sound of her breathing, he braved his next move. He rested his hand on her back. So damn soft. Then, even as his body cried out for sexual release, he found himself closing his eyes, letting go of the images haunting him, letting go of the pain. And he could let go as long as he held her.

~

A door slammed in the room next door and startled Cali awake. She opened her eyes and raised her head. When she did, she found herself staring into a hooded pair of blue-green eyes. Brit’s eyes.

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