Chapter Twelve

Dutton, Tuesday, January 30, 11:55 p.m.

Meredith’s head was in the refrigerator when Alex closed the bedroom door on Hope and Riley. “I am so hungry,” Meredith complained. “I only ate two bites of that pizza.”

“I don’t think any of us got any more than that,” Daniel said, rubbing the flat of his hand against his equally flat stomach. “Thanks for reminding me,” he added wryly.

Alex looked away from Daniel Vartanian’s very lean torso, startled at the sudden desire that had warmed her inside out. After everything that had happened, she did not need to be thinking about rubbing Daniel’s flat stomach. Or anyplace else.

Meredith put a jar of mayonnaise and some shaved ham on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. She met Alex’s eyes, her lips twitching into a knowing smirk. Alex glared at her, daring her to say a word.

Meredith cleared her throat. “Daniel, can I make you a sandwich?”

Daniel nodded. “Please.” He leaned against the counter, both forearms flat on the granite and his shoulders sagged. When he sighed, Meredith snickered.

“You look like your dog when you do that,” she said, heaping ham on slices of bread.

Daniel chuckled wearily. “They say people resemble their dogs. I hope that’s the only way I resemble Riley. He’s an ugly mug.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think he’s cute,” Meredith said, and gave Alex another smirk as she pushed Daniel’s plate across the countertop. “Don’t you, Alex?”

Alex rolled her eyes, too tired to be amused. “Just eat, Mer.” She walked to the window and pulled the curtains back to look at the unmarked car on her curb. “Should we take them coffee or something?”

“They’d appreciate it, I’m sure,” Daniel said. “If you’ll make it, I’ll take it out to them. I don’t want you all going outside unless you absolutely have to.”

Meredith took her plate to the table. She pushed the Play-Doh- covered Princess Fiona aside and sat down with a sigh of her own. “Are we under house arrest, Daniel?”

“You know you’re not. But we’d be remiss if we didn’t make sure you were safe.”

Alex busied herself making the officers’ coffee. “It’s either that or a safe house.”

Meredith frowned. “I think you and Hope should go.”

Alex glanced up from scooping the coffee. “I was thinking you and Hope should go.”

“Of course you were,” Meredith said. “Dammit, Alex, you’ve got the thickest skull. Nobody’s tried to kill me. You’re the one in the crosshairs.”

“So far,” Alex said. “The reverend is missing, Mer. And I think somebody’s threatened Bailey’s friend. You’re my friend. Don’t think they haven’t noticed you.”

Meredith opened her mouth, then closed it, pursing her lips. “Shit.”

“Eloquently put,” Daniel said. “Think on it tonight. You can decide on the safe house tomorrow if you want. The car outside isn’t going anywhere for at least a day.” He rubbed his forehead. “Do you ladies have any aspirin?”

Alex reached across the counter and lifted his chin. She could see the ache in his eyes. “Where does it hurt?”

“My head,” he said petulantly.

She smiled. “Lean forward.” Eyes narrowed suspiciously, he did. “And close your eyes,” she murmured, and after a last glance, he complied. She pressed her fingertips to his temples until his eyes blinked open.

“That’s better,” he said, surprised.

“Good. I took some classes in acupressure hoping it would work on me, but I’ve never been able to make my own headaches go away.”

He walked around the counter and slid his hand up under her hair. “Still hurts here?”

She nodded and let her head drop forward while his thumb unerringly found the right place on her neck. A shiver ran down her spine. “Yeah, right there.” But the words came out husky and suddenly there wasn’t quite enough air.

The room grew quiet as his hands moved to her shoulders, kneading through the thick tweed of her jacket. All Alex could hear was the dripping of the coffeepot and the sound of her own pulse thrumming in her head.

Meredith cleared her throat. “I think I’ll go to sleep now,” she said.

Meredith’s door closed, leaving them alone. Another shiver shook Alex as he slipped her jacket from her shoulders, but the warmth of his hands chased the chill away.

“Umm.” It was a throaty little moan as she leaned on her forearms as he had done.

“Don’t go to sleep,” he murmured, and she let out a breath.

“No chance of that.”

He turned her so that she looked up at him. His eyes seemed bluer, more intense, and set off little tingles through her body. The pulse that thrummed in her head now beat a steady rhythm between her legs, making her want to press against him.

Then the thumb that had worked its magic on her neck lightly brushed her lip and she wondered what it would feel like… elsewhere. And she wondered how a woman went about asking for such a thing.

Then she stopped thinking when his lips covered hers. Her arms wound around his neck and she gave herself up to the riot of sensation she hadn’t felt since… since the last time he’d kissed her. His mouth was soft and hard all at once and his hands… They pressed hard into her back, then slid down and around until they bracketed her ribs. Until his thumbs rested beneath her breasts and his fingers dug into her sides.

Touch me. Please. But the words didn’t come and when he looked into her eyes she hoped he’d understand. His thumbs swept up, over her nipples, and her eyes slid shut. “Yes,” she heard herself whisper. “Right there.”

“What do you want, Alex?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

He asked the question even as he toyed with her breasts, caressing, teasing, until her knees went weak. “I…”

“I want you,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’m giving you fair warning. If this isn’t what you want…”

She was trembling. “I…”

She felt him smile against her lips. “Then just nod,” he whispered, so she did, then sucked in a breath when he pushed her against the cabinet, rocking against her.

“Oh, yes. Right there,” she said, then stopped talking when he took her mouth in the hardest, hottest kiss yet. His hands slid to her hips, lifting her higher, fitting her better…

Then the pounding at the front door shattered it all. “Vartanian!”

Daniel lurched back, rubbing one hand over his face, his eyes instantly focused. His right hand went to the gun he had holstered at his hip. “Stay here,” he ordered, then opened the door so that she was shielded from view. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Radio call for all local units,” said a male voice, and Alex moved until she could see around the door. It was one of the officers from the car outside. “Shots fired at 256 Main Street. A pizza parlor. There’s an officer down and two other victims. One of the victims is the waitress who was closing the place.”

“Sheila,” Alex said, her heart sinking.

Daniel’s jaw clenched. “I’ll go, you come in. Koenig’s still in the car?”

“Yeah.” The officer walked in and gave Alex a nod. “Ma’am. I’m Agent Hatton.”

“You can trust Agent Hatton, Alex,” Daniel said. “I’ve got to go.”

Dutton, Wednesday, January 31, 12:15 a.m.

Holy hell. The silence was surreal as Daniel edged through the door of Presto’s Pizza where he’d brought Alex and Hope just hours before. He gripped his Sig, every sense on alert, but immediately saw he was too late.

Draped over the counter by the open cash register was a black man. His arms lay limply over the edge, both hands open, and on the floor lay a.38. Blood had pooled on the counter and was dripping down the side and Daniel couldn’t help but think of Hope’s little face, covered in pizza sauce.

Swallowing his shudder, he saw Sheila sitting on the floor in the corner by the jukebox. Her legs were spread wide, her eyes wide and lifeless, her red lipstick garishly bright against her waxy face. She still held a gun clasped in both hands, limp now in her lap. Her uniform was shiny as blood still oozed from the holes in her abdomen and chest. The wall behind her was covered in blood. A.38 left one hell of an exit wound.