Fatal Evidence Read online

  “Well, I don’t know as much as I—”

  Florina caught sight of him and he waved her over. “Ms. Betts, you know Judge Stokinger, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. Old friends, right Bernie?”

  “We were just discussing the mill building down on Prescott Street.” Drew stared at the judge waiting for him to jump in. He didn’t.

  “What was it you were saying about the area, sir?” The prosecutor in him began to come out.

  “It’s not a great place. Certainly never was in the past.”

  “What was your opinion on the condition of the building itself?”

  He shrugged, his shaggy white hair flopping a bit. “It’s rundown.”

  “And the historical value of the building?” Scott was glad he didn’t have to face off against Drew.

  “Well, I’m sure there’s lots of value being down by the river and being such a large space.”

  He cleared his throat. “If it’s in bad shape, wouldn’t renovating it like the other local buildings give it more value, especially if the original design was kept intact?”

  Pulling at his collar the judge looked uncomfortable. Of course Florinaa was staring at him with accusatory eyes. She certainly gave him the creeps.

  “I honestly don’t know about real estate value. I’d probably tear it down if I had the chance. Put up something new.”

  “Oh, no, not there,” Florina objected. “You can’t have something modern in that district. Simply can’t be done.”

  Turning to her, Scott asked, “If you don’t want it torn down and replaced, and leaving it a mess isn’t good for the economy, wouldn’t it be best to renovate it into usable space?”

  “Hmm, I suppose. I still have to check some of the background on this place. We got a tip that there was some significance in this specific building. If nothing comes of it, then you get to go ahead with your project, Mr. Holland.”

  He should feel elated that she sort of agreed to let him go forward. But he couldn’t help wonder who had given the Historical Society their little tip.

  Chapter 7

  “Here’s to Meg and Chris.” Scott lifted his glass to the bride and groom. “May all their future undercover assignments be only under the covers.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Chris Shaunessy took a sip then kissed his new bride full on the lips. Cheers broke out in the room.

  Scott was happy to see another of their group in love and full of bliss.

  “I should join the FBI and go undercover,” he told Nick White, Keith Cho, and Drew, who stood with him near their table as more toasts rang through the room. “Apparently it’s the place to meet your soul mate.”

  “I don’t have a soul,” Nick muttered under his breath. “Don’t think that’ll work for me.”

  “Those Bureau guys sit on their lazy asses all day while we cops do all the hard, dangerous work.” Keith Cho chugged his beer. He’d recently lost his partner in a shoot out and his attitude reflected the loss. “No way I’m joining them. The soul mate will have to be put on hold for now.”

  “I’m not doing much undercover work at the DA’s office so I guess I’m out of luck too.”

  “Hey, Heather offered you her sister and you turned her down,” Scott reminded him.

  Drew’s face was comical. “Can you seriously see me with the tender, pampered princess and her frivolous ways? I’d probably go broke the first week trying to pay for her clothing bill.”

  “What are you complaining about Fly Boy?” Nick said, using his nickname for Scott from the military. “You actually have a date for this shindig. Unlike the rest of us losers.”

  “Speak for yourself, Nick,” Jack joined in the conversation. “I’ve got myself the perfect partner.”

  His eyes turned to watch Callie as she walked back from the rest room with Heather.

  “My date is the sister of the pampered princess.” Scott sighed. “The princess and the carpenter. Sounds like a freakin’ fairy tale. Not happening in my life. Not with my luck.”

  The ladies approached the table and Jack immediately pulled Callie in close. “Everything okay?”

  His wife glared at him though her mouth turned up at the corners. “I only went to the bathroom. You can stop worrying about me.”

  Jack would never stop worrying about her. His cousin skimmed his hand over Callie’s swollen belly. Yeah, Scott would admit to some envy for the man. But they deserved all the joy they could get after what they’d gone through.

  “When’s the baby due?” Keith asked as dessert was served, wedding cake with fresh strawberries on top.

  “Late September,” Jack replied, his eyes never leaving his wife. “Only a few weeks after Jonathan turns three.”

  Drew removed the spoon from his mouth and swallowed. “Is he excited about being a big brother?”

  “That and the fact his daddy is always home with us,” Callie said. “We’ll see how excited he is when she’s screaming in the middle of the night.”

  Nick grinned. “It’s a girl. Sweet.”

  Nick might act tough but inside he was a softy.

  Callie shrugged. “Not sure yet, but Jack is positive it is.”

  “Which means we need more room. The house is only two bedrooms.”

  Chuckling, Scott took a sip of his beer. “Happen to know anyone who does additions or renovations?”

  Jack narrowed his eyes at him. “You’ve been a bit preoccupied with your new project.”

  “I can find time to help put on an addition, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “You could always sell,” Heather suggested. “I’ve got tons of new houses that are gorgeous and walk-in ready. And lots of clients looking for a new place.”

  “Seriously? Your clients would want to live in Callie’s cute little bungalow? Why don’t I believe it?” He’d seen her office and most of the pictures of the houses she sold were million dollar places. Not quaint two bedroom deals.

  “Not all of my clients are rich, jackass.” She scowled, her eyes glaring at him. Great, he could kiss that shared hotel room good-bye unless he buttered her up again.

  A soft love song rang from the speakers. He bent over and whispered in her ear, “Can I apologize on the dance floor?”

  Air huffed out of her lungs but when he ran his finger along the back of her neck, she shivered and nodded. Taking her hand, he led her to the wooden square in the center of the room. A few dozen people were already swaying to the music, along with the bride and groom.

  “I’m a little sensitive about rich people,” he said, as he slid his arms around her waist. “You’ll need to forgive me if I get a bit snarky regarding them.”

  “Seriously? Rich people bother you? I never would have guessed.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone and her eyes lit up.

  Chuckling, he swirled her in a circle then pulled her close again, right up against his body. Not the smartest move as having her near usually ended up with a boner that wouldn’t go away. And doing something about it at the wedding reception wasn’t likely.

  Leaning in, her lips tickled his ear. “Is it because of what happened to your parents?”

  “That’s one reason.”

  She tilted her head to the side as her fingers slipped through the hair at the back of his neck. Damn, that felt good.

  “One reason? And the other?”

  That wasn’t something he liked sharing with anyone. Jack knew, but then he’d been around when it had happened. He skimmed one hand up her back while the other moved lower to caress her great ass. Only for a second, since they were out in public, but it was enough to distract her from the question.

  “Um, watch where your hands are, Mr. Holland.”

  “I’m quite aware of where my hands are, Ms. Silva. Quite aware.”

  “I’m sure you are. Now back to my question
that you tried to avoid.”

  Damn, she was tenacious. “What question? It’s warm in here. Would you like a drink?”

  “Scott.” She stopped swaying and stared straight at him. “You wanted company for this wedding. The least you can do is talk to me.”

  “We’re talking. We should be dancing.” Twisting her around, he moved his hips in time with hers to the slow beat.

  Sidling up as close to him as possible, she rubbed her chest against his. Now she was playing dirty. Or giving him back what he’d been trying. Too bad they couldn’t be playing this game in a bed.

  “Help me to get to know you better.”

  As he pressed his groin into her pelvis, he said, “That’s what I’m trying to do. Can’t you tell?”

  Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Seriously, do you ever think of anything other than sex?”

  “Every now and then I think about construction. But I got to be honest with you, I like thinking about sex better. It’s way more fun.”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t get so exasperated with you if I knew why you did things. Like putting down rich people. Always assuming I have an ulterior motive for what I’m doing and that it involves money.”

  “Okay, I might jump to conclusion a bit faster than some but…let’s just say that once you’ve been burned you learn to stop playing with matches.”

  “And I’m matches?”

  Oh, he’d gotten her off the subject again, kind of. Grinning he said, “You’re definitely hot and dangerous.”

  “And the reason you don’t like rich people?”

  Shit, tenacious didn’t even begin to describe her. Taking a deep breath, he danced her to a quieter part of the floor. “Fine. When I was in college I had this girlfriend, Patrice. Her family was wealthy but she never flaunted it much, though she did have the nicest of everything. We were serious for a while. When we graduated I started working for my uncle at the construction company. She didn’t like that. I’d gotten a degree in business and she thought I should become some big businessman, not a carpenter with dirt under his nails who smelled like sawdust and wood chips.”

  Her lips twitched. “I actually like the sawdust smell. But go on. What happened?”

  “I started talking about getting more serious, like marriage. She told me flat out she wanted nothing to do with a guy who worked with his hands. She needed someone who would be able to give her everything she’d always gotten from her parents. So she dumped me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her expression was sincere.

  “I’d helped her with a ton of her classes, and apparently came in handy then, but once I didn’t follow her plans, it was over. I joined the Army the next week and was deployed within a year.”

  Heather looked around then pulled them near a wall. “Not all wealthy people are jerks like her, Scott. Giving you up was her loss. You’re a great guy. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

  “But not you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that? We’re partners now and we need to keep it that way but”—she shrugged—“in the future things could be different.”

  Did she mean that? Or was she playing him like Patrice had? Getting what she could for now then ditching him when he wasn’t needed any longer?

  “Your mother doesn’t feel that way.”

  Her eyes widened. “My mother?”

  “Yeah, at the library opening last week, she made it a point to talk to me about your future. She mentioned a few young men who were pursuing you and that you were seriously considering which one would be a better match. That you had your future to think of and it couldn’t be with a blue-collar worker with dirt under his fingernails.”

  “She didn’t say that.” Her eyes blazed, her grip tightening on his arms. “I’m sorry, Scott. She had no right. She loves me and means well, but she’s never done anything except follow behind my dad. Be the perfect little wife. She lost a baby a few years after she had me then threw herself into organizing his life, household, helping with charities, and being the arm decoration she is.”

  Losing a child must be as difficult as losing your parents. He knew the hardship first hand. “Does your dad expect that of her? I didn’t get the impression from him that he was old fashioned regarding women. He seemed awfully proud of your accomplishments.”

  Color flooded her cheeks. “He did?”

  “Yeah, I mean, he was glad I’m helping you with the mill project, but mostly because I have an extensive background in renovations. But he didn’t have any doubt you would have found a way to do it even without me.”

  Her shoulders dropped as if in relief. “Thanks for sharing that with me. And no, my dad doesn’t expect my mom to do all she does. She seems to think it’s her job to live only for him. It’s one of the reasons I was so desperate to start my own business. I didn’t want to be like her, nothing more than a sidekick to a man.”

  “I don’t imagine that will ever happen, Xena. You’ve got more fire and determination than I’ve seen in many men. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

  “Anything else you like?” Sliding her hands up his chest, she sighed.

  “Lots of things I like. These perfect lips that taste like sin.” One tiny touch of his to hers was all he allowed himself.

  “These expressive eyes that always tell me exactly where I stand.”

  “What are they saying at the moment?”

  “They’re telling me you want another kiss.” He hoped that’s what they were saying.

  “I might. Is that all you like about me?”

  “Fishing for compliments now, are we?”

  “Maybe. I can return the favor later.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “What you like about me? That’ll be a short list.”

  “Longer than you’d think.”

  He caressed down her cheek and let his finger dip between her breasts. “I like the little noises that come from your mouth when I suck on your nipples.” It had only been one night, but the details rolled through his mind like a video.

  One of those sounds squeaked through her lips. “You’re not playing fair now.”

  “And the fact those nipples respond nicely to my touch, or my words, like now…”

  The silky dress wasn’t thick enough to hide the pebbled centers he’d caused. Either that or she was cold. But if his heat level was anything to go by, she wasn’t cold.

  “I can still see those long legs wrapped around my shoulders and how you—”

  “Enough,” she rasped out, her voice throaty and low. “You should go back to what my eyes were saying.”

  “About wanting a kiss?”

  “Only a kiss. Nothing more. We’re business partners, right? But a kiss isn’t going to ruin anything.”

  “Sure.” He was already ruined from thinking about touching and kissing her.

  Lowering his head, he feasted on her lips, placing his back to the crowd, hiding her from prying eyes. What he wanted to do was push her up against the wall, wrap her legs around him, and plunge inside her warmth.

  “Looks like someone’s getting lucky tonight.”

  Chris Shaunessy’s voice came from behind him. Backing away from Heather, he glared at his friend. “Since you just got married, I hope it’s you.”

  Meg grabbed her husband’s arm and tugged. “If he keeps saying stupid things and drinking shots with his buddies, it won’t be him.”

  “Come on, sweetie, you know you love me.”

  Meg’s mouth twitched. “Yes, I do, muffin, and I need you sober on our wedding night.”

  “Muffin?” Scott laughed.

  Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s a joke from when we were undercover.” He looked at his bride. “Keep me away from the Bureau guys if you want me sober. They’re brutal.”

  “We’ll go talk to my brothers then,” Meg instructed,
and led him away. He’d met Meg’s brothers. They’d keep Shaunessy in line.

  Turning back to Heather, he hoped for more of what they’d been doing, but she had moved away from the wall and was sipping some wine she’d gotten from a nearby waiter.

  “Why don’t we go back to join Jack and Callie? She doesn’t know anyone here either and I’m sure she’d appreciate a friend sitting with her.”

  He wouldn’t point out that Callie’s husband was with her. Heather obviously had second thoughts about the kiss. Probably about him. He’d let it go for now.

  * * * *

  Damn, why’d she go drink all that wine? It made her head woozy and her thoughts muddled. Of course it hadn’t helped that Scott kissed her senseless in the reception hall.

  “This is your room,” he said as he opened the door. Usually she hated a man taking charge but she wasn’t sure if she could stay steady enough to insert the key card into the slot. “Thank you.”

  Holding the wall, she moved inside. The door shut behind her. Now that he was gone she could relax.

  “Do you need any help?”

  Spinning swiftly, she glared at him. The room twisted too. Damn. “I’m fine. I don’t need any help from anyone.”

  “Sure you don’t. I’ll leave you to get some rest then. I thought we could leave around nine in the morning. Is that too early?”

  “Nine. Fine.” Great, now she was Dr. Seuss. And the gorgeous man in front of her was staring at her like she was the last morsel of bread in the jail cell. He was a tasty morsel too. His tie had been removed and the top few buttons had been undone on his shirt. A few tufts of dark hair peeked from the opening. She remembered running her fingers through it when they’d been together in Vermont. Running them down his chest, around his…

  Oh, yeah, there it was. Her eyes automatically lowered to the tenting in his dress slacks. Mmm, that had been a lovely surprise.

  “If you keep staring at me that way, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

  “What actions might that be?” Definitely the wine talking.

  Walking closer, he didn’t leave any space for her to stand. Her back bumped into the wall as he pressed against her.