Conflicting Interests (25 page)

He studied her silently as his words sunk in. “I’ve had to
endure your comments, your worry for Seth and I, the guilt I catch on your face
constantly. I’ve had to endure that, wondering when it would become too much
for you. I know what’s going on in your mind but you don’t seem to have a
fucking clue what’s going on in mine.”

His voice was even and controlled as he spoke but there was
no missing the quiet aggression in his tone. He let out a deep sigh as he stood
from the floor, offering her his hand. She took it.

He walked with her silently to the stairs and as she stepped
up the first, a tremor ran up her spine to tingle in her brain. It was that
same warm electric feeling that consumed her whenever he touched her and she
grasped for a briefest of moments just how much she owned him and how much he
owned her too.

It might look like nothing more than his fingers clasping
hers from the outside in but from the inside, it was a powerful thing. She
rounded to him and kissed him. She held his face to hers, not wanting to feel
even the least bit of separation between them.

His hands gripped her waist and she groaned into his mouth.
When she kissed along his jaw, she could hear the subtlest sound of him
swallowing and when she reached his ear, she kissed him one more time. “I love
you.”

She pulled back to see him watching her with a slightly
stunned expression on his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be selfish.” Tears
were pricking her eyes and she blinked them back furiously as his brow
furrowed.

“There’s not a selfish bone in your body. But I need you to
understand me.” She nodded. He stared at her, none of the seriousness lost for
many long moments that left her biting her lip waiting for him.

When his lips pulled up in a very small seductive smile, she
relaxed. “Now how about we make up and finish what we started in the kitchen—perhaps
in the bedroom this time? It’s going to be the last night I make love to you
here. I intend to have you in my bedroom come tomorrow night.”

He kissed her before smacking her ass as she turned from
him. She might not have known what to think about what she’d just managed to
agree to against her better judgment but that didn’t mean the idea of sharing
his bed again wasn’t intoxicating.

They ended up in the same position he had her in on the
kitchen floor. He was behind her, pushing into her body. He pulled and plunged
over and over, hitting her depths every time. He pounded hard until she was
gasping and could only barely manage to brace her body with her hands.

Her knees left the mattress with every swift jerk of her
hips and she was being so thoroughly used by him that she simply shut her eyes
and let her body take from him every ounce of pleasure he was giving. It was a
ceaseless pace that eventually ended with him lying nearly on top of her
collapsed body as his seed seeped around his still-imbedded cock. She was
panting like an animal and her skin was clammy and tingling. His breath warmed
the back of her neck and she lost track of just how long they stayed still and
panting before he finally lifted himself from her and pulled her into his arms.

Katrina rolled to her back and Dillon stared down at her.
His eyes were intense and dark and it was only when he finally reached a hand
to her cheek and caressed her skin that his expression finally softened and he
offered a subtle smirk. “Stay with me.”

“Yes.”

“Is it what you want?”

“Of course it is. That was never the problem.”

He smiled gently. “The problem belongs to both of us and
we’ll deal with it together.”

She was talking on the phone as she rinsed vegetables in the
sink. He was trying to follow the directions she’d given him before she decided
to pick up the phone and left him to his own devices. The scrunched brow and
shocked look she gave him when he stabbed a garlic clove with the tip of the
spoon she’d handed him was enough to get her off the phone.

“Imogen, I’ve got to let you go. Dillon’s trying to ruin
dinner.” She hung up quickly, snatching the spoon from him and using the curved
outer surface of the spoon to crush the clove on the cutting board. Who knew
you could do such things? “Seriously, Dillon?”

He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck as Seth
walked in the room cradling Kitty like a baby and scratching her belly.

“Ms. Page, your cat’s weird.”

“You know you can call me Katrina or Kat even. And yes, I know
she is.”

“Katrina sounds funny.”

“Just in general or just calling me Katrina?”

“Uh, you Katrina.” She laughed and Seth shrugged. He made
fun of the poor cat constantly—it was hard not to—but Seth had taken to the old
lady immediately. Katrina had been with them for nearly two weeks. Kitty was
sleeping in Seth’s room already and Katrina was sleeping in Dillon’s—just where
she belonged. He’d never been happier Seth slept with his TV on. He’d never
been able to indulge in her so completely and so constantly and he had no
intention of slowing down with her.

Stephens, Katrina and he had moved her car from the parking
garage to Stephens’ outbuilding for storage the last Sunday of spring break. It
wasn’t a forever solution but they weren’t going to be doing anything to make
it easy for their perp to find her.

Dillon had an unlisted phone number and he’d been smart
enough to value his privacy when he bought his home. His and Molly’s homes were
owned by a trust they’d set up to protect their identities. Dillon had always
seen it as sensible for his profession. Molly always thought he was just crazy
but they’d grown up understanding the world was a scary place and their father
had instilled the importance of anonymity and protecting their privacy.

The alarm system was installed the Monday after Katrina had
moved in and he’d had floodlights installed on all the exterior doors. He
didn’t care if it was overkill. There was nothing he wasn’t going to do to
protect his family.

He drove Katrina to school every morning and Molly took the
boys separately. He didn’t want the man seeing Kat and Seth together. Imogen
drove Katrina downtown every day after school to some predetermined building
and either he or Stephens would pick her up inside an attached parking garage.
They switched it up regularly so she couldn’t be easily followed. It was all a
bit cat and mouse but until they could safely do anything different, they were
going to be cautious, more than cautious.

Smith and Terrell were still at it with their leads and
they’d also still not managed to get their hands on the plumber they were
interested in. Dillon was attracting attention at the precinct too but he’d
expected it. Chief Greenwood had called him to his office only three days into
the week following spring break. The conversation had been strained to say the
least.

“So do you have anything you need to tell me?” Greenwood was
eying him suspiciously.

Dillon shook his head slowly. Having made the decision to
put Katrina ahead of his job had liberated him to some degree. He couldn’t even
say he really feared what might happen to his career. He was willing to accept
it and so the man in front of him really couldn’t do much to threaten Dillon.
“I don’t. Do you have anything you need to tell me?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Adler. You’re a good detective, but I
don’t need the attitude.” Then he studied him. “And how’s Ms. Page doing?”

“And why are you asking me?”

“Oh I don’t know. I suppose because you’re fucking her.”

He stared impassively at Greenwood. He said nothing. He
didn’t deny or confirm what the man was saying, and once Greenwood’s face
started burning in anger, he pushed it just a bit further. “I’d say you’d have
to ask her how she’s doing.”

“And why’s that?”

He held his composure calmly. “Because I’m not her so I
couldn’t possibly answer that question. Perhaps check with Smith and Terrell.”

“Smith and Terrell don’t even know where she’s living. I
don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

“Well, I heard the poor woman’s house burned down. Might
explain why she’s homeless.”

“Oh, I don’t think she’s homeless at all.” Greenwood was
glaring at him.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I quite respect Ms. Page and
I’d hate to think of her without a roof over her head.”

“So you don’t know where she’s living then?”

“Again these are really questions for Ms. Page. Not the
detective you removed from her case. I surely can’t be expected to keep tabs on
ex-witnesses now can I?”

Greenwood’s lips were pursed together in a tight line. His
hands were clasped on his desktop and he was leaning forward, studying Dillon
with an intense expression. “What would your father think, I wonder, about your
recent behavior?”

“My father knows everything about my life and remarkably
he’s still quite fond of me. Chief, I really do have some work to do. Is there
anything else you’d like to ask about?”

“I don’t like being lied to.”

“And yet you’ve not asked a single pointed question and
you’re allowing me to sidestep each and every one. Unless you really want me to
be honest, I’d be careful what you ask. I should tell you my life is exactly as
I mean it to be. There’s nothing anyone can say to me that would sway my
responsibilities and focus.”

“That sounded dangerously like a threat.”

“I can’t imagine. You’re the only one in this room with the
capacity to threaten anyone.”

“I’m only concerned.”

“I appreciate that.” Dillon stood and turned to the door.

“Is it worth it?”

Dillon paused without looking back. “I wouldn’t waste my
time doing anything that wasn’t.” And then he left.

He took his time walking back to his desk. He wasn’t lying
when he said Greenwood had been easy on him. He’d not asked a single question
Dillon couldn’t easily avoid answering. Dillon hadn’t even had to lie to get
out of his office and not once did Greenwood hold his feet to the fire. He could
have point-blank asked Dillon if he was sleeping with Katrina and yet he
didn’t. There was no mistaking the man was livid at the position Dillon was
putting him in, but there was also no mistaking the man was holding back.

In the nearly week and half since then though Greenwood had
said nothing further to him. Dillon and Stephens had other cases they were
working and when they’d give Greenwood an update on one thing or another the
man studied Dillon curiously at best.

It had been a stagnant two weeks since Katrina moved in and
Dillon was restless. It was insane that her case was dragging on so long, but
it was what it was. The man was just patient—incredibly fucking patient. When
the phone rang as Katrina was standing at the stove, Dillon answered. It was Stephens.

“Just got off the phone with Terrell. Her creepy-ass student
checks out. He’s not been in class because he dropped out of her class. But he
had an airtight alibi on the night her house was set on fire and the night she
was attacked in the parking garage. He was out of town visiting a grandparent
the night she was attacked and he was working the night her home was set on
fire. It’s not him. He’s a total fucking fruitcake but he’s not a psychopath—at
least he’s not our psychopath.”

“Good to know. I’ll make sure Kat knows.” Her eyes flashed
to his and he walked up behind her, gripping her hip with his free hand. “Crazy
student checks out.” He murmured against her ear before returning to Stephens.

“But we still have a missing plumber with a background that’s
getting more interesting by the day.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me.”

“His name is Clint Lathrop. He only worked for this
particular contractor for about six months. He quit with no notice the week
after Kat was first attacked in her home. Could be coincidence, but we don’t
like coincidences, now do we? His address on file turned out to be false and
the people who do reside there have never seen the man before. A criminal
background check showed up nothing for the state of Washington but you’ll never
guess what they hit on in the state of South Dakota.”

“What?”

“Stalking charge. And the victim was a young teacher. Could
be he’s got a hot-for-teacher complex, could be some weird retaliation for Ms.
South Dakota—who by the way is alive and well. But here’s another thing. Ms.
South Dakota had gone out with Mr. Stalker a few times before she decided she
just wasn’t so into him and when I pulled her driver’s license pic, there’s a
resemblance. It’s not striking but it was enough to give me the heebie-jeebies.
Struck me because our perp made a comment about Kat being a tease or you’re all
teases, something along those lines on one of his phone messages.”

“Hmm.” Dillon was far too focused on the story to say much
else.

“Could be the man fled South Dakota after he was released,
took a job in Seattle, came across Kat by coincidence, saw the resemblance,
discovered she was a teacher—which may have increased his draw to her—and she
became a way for him to retaliate. And one other thing. Dude’s got a vandalism
charge on his record for setting a fire in a trash can on Ms. South Dakota’s
front lawn. Pyro-fruitloop perhaps?”

“He sounds promising. And Smith and Terrell are tracking
with your train of thought?”

“Yeah. They’re on this man like a stripper on a rich man’s
lap.”

“Huh. Just made that up, didn’t ya?”

“Fuck off. I’m off. Think we just need to keep doing what
we’re doing until they can get their hands on this wackjob. I feel good about
this lead. Now they just need to find the douche fucker.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” When he hung up, Katrina was
watching him while she stirred something that smelled Asian in the pan. He’d
never eaten so well in his life. The girl could cook—she could also fuck. Two
of his favorite needs in the world were being satisfied constantly and the fact
he was in love with her too made him feel like the luckiest man on the planet.

When he hung up, she moved the pan off the heat and turned
to face him. “I saw a picture of the plumber. Smith asked me if I recognized
him, remembered him.”

“And did you?”

She nodded. “Can’t say the man made much of an impression. I
mean, I remember him but that’s about the most I can say of him. I don’t really
remember talking to him or anything beyond just recognizing him really.” She
was biting the inside of her cheek as she stared at his chest for a moment. “I
remember him just being—I don’t know—normal.”

“Normal can be deceptive sometimes. We just have to be
careful. A nondescript face won’t help us notice this guy if he gets close to
us.”

It wasn’t two days later that the love of his life decided
to challenge that bit of advice.