Grace (12 page)

"I don't know what you're implying."

"This isn't some tactic to get you to talk. However, if you withhold information from me, that's detrimental to this case. There are other means I can use to get you to talk."

Max slowly slid his leg between Grace's. His arm pushed her coat open and his hand made its way over the leather and around her waist.

Grace tried to put some space between them by placing her hands against his chest, but even that move backfired on her as her palms began to sweat and the rhythm of her breathing increased.

Max gazed deeply into her eyes, with his face inches from hers.

"Does bullying always get you the girl?” she snapped at him with his body wedged against hers.

He seemed amused by her defensive response. “Am I bullying you, sweetheart? Is that why you're shaking?” he whispered with his lips inches from her own.

"I'm a big girl, Lieutenant. I'm fine, really."

She tried to convince Max as well as herself. She didn't need any protection. Despite the seriousness of the case, she was strong enough to handle this. It was her attraction to this overbearing, sexy cop that made her wonder and her body crave for his attention.

Max deeply inhaled the scent of her perfume. Her heart raced and so did Max's. She felt it against the palms of her hands resting against his chest.

He leaned his face down, kissing the bridge of Grace's nose as his hand held her neck and his thumb caressed her chin. Their gazes met and there was no doubt they wanted one another.

"Don't...” Grace barely got out, but Max didn't hesitate.

His lips covered hers, the hunger great and equal. Their hips pressed together, and he maneuvered his leg between her thighs, again allowing his pants to caress against her stockings and her skin.

His mouth was on a mission to devour hers and he hardened against her.

Max was skilled in the kissing department and as if that weren't enough to set her thighs on fire, one of his hands embraced the back of her head while the other caressed her neck.

The kiss was long and hot, and Max took it to another level by moving his lips across her cheek, then chin and finally against her neck.

Grace was on fire, her breathing rapid and short. She let out a moan of pleasure and was embarrassed he could do this to her. As if sensing it, he did the same, moaning against her neck, tickling her skin.

"Damn, woman, you get under my skin.” His hot breath caressed her neck with each word he whispered.

Grace held Max's neck, letting her hands caress his head, his scalp, then across his shoulders to his arms and down to his waist. She wanted to touch every part of him, to feel his hands all over her body

Then the fear set in when she felt the lines of his cut stomach, and her imagination traveled further down.

Max was aroused and ready, a realization to Grace that things had gone way too far.

She sensed the strength, the power in his hands as they explored her curves from her hips to her breasts. She had to stop this, put an end to it now.
What the hell am I thinking?

His mouth covered her neck again and her head rolled back in defeat as she gripped the island counter. She was losing the fight against herself, allowed Max to pull her coat the rest of the way off.

He stopped a moment, letting a small amount of red hair slip through his fingers. She was afraid he would stop, that he didn't want her as much as she wanted him, needed him.

This was crazy. It was another outrageous reaction to a complete stranger. This night would surely cause nothing but problems for her.

"Take this off.” He didn't give her the chance to remove the wig herself. Grace shook her head as the brown thick locks covered her shoulders.

Max ran his hands through the curls, pulled them to his lips, then continued to stare into her green eyes.

"You're too classy for this, way better than this.” He ran his hands against the black leather.

"I...” She didn't know what to say and she thought it was his way of stopping things from continuing. She attempted to move away but Max abruptly pulled her back by her hips.

He was about to kiss her again when she turned her head, once again attempting to stop him.

"This is a bad idea. We shouldn't..."

"You're shaking, Grace. Let's sit down."

Max took Grace's hand, and they made their way to the sofa in the living room. He sat beside Grace, laying his hand on her leg as he stared into her eyes. They were full of concern.

"Tell me what he said to you, Grace."

After a moment, she began to tell him the story. She would have left out the part about the Master knowing her name, but her professionalism and her instincts told her not to.

Max immediately stood up from the couch. “Damn it, Grace, this is exactly what I was worried about. Why didn't you tell me this right away? We don't know who this guy is or what he's involved in, and somehow he knows your name? I shouldn't have let you go there!” he yelled as he ran his hand through his hair and paced in front of her.

"No, Max, this isn't your fault. I had an obligation to go. Besides, as scary as he was, he was also strangely familiar."

Max stopped in front of her with his hands on his hips, his gun, holster, and badge in plain view.

Grace took in the masculine vision in front of her. She wanted him to hold her again, and that realization made her angry with herself. She didn't need the comfort of another human being's arms. Another person to tell her it was going to be all right, that time healed and things would get better.

Grace closed her eyes. She was obviously exhausted. Why else would she remember statements from the past and from a time she'd rather erase from her mind? Tears filled her eyes but none fell. She was thankful for that.

"You think you know who this guy is?"

"I'm not sure really. There was something familiar about his eyes, and then his cologne ... I don't know."

She put her head down, and Max knelt down on one knee on the carpeting in front of her. Max cupped her chin and tilted her head toward him.

"You're not telling me everything, Grace."

She waited, knowing as soon as the words left her lips, he would flip out.

"Celina was seen there the night she went missing."

"What? With whom?"

Grace stayed silent a moment. Max was staring at her intently, forcing her to give a reply to his question.

She whispered, “The Master."

He immediately let go of her and rose from the floor. “Damn it, Grace, this just keeps getting worse. Now you've put yourself in danger, and we still don't know who this guy is."

"Mary was scared, Max, but she knows more. She needed to think things through. She did tell me that there are people willing to pay big money for their own personal sex slave."

"What? You mean against their will? Kidnapping, forced prostitution?"

"A sex slave. Their own personal fantasy fulfiller."

Max remained silent as if letting her words sink in. Grace had a feeling he was thinking the same things she was. That this was way more than any of them expected.

"This is why we're connecting missing women with the murder cases. They're still alive."

"How many are you certain of, Max? I mean we could give the names and show pictures to Mary. She can find out if these women were seen at the clubs and with this Master guy. I could—"

"No way are you going to any of those clubs again. If what Mary told you is true, then he already knows your name and who you are. He could have someone who's in the market for a gorgeous brunette. Wait a minute...

"The similarities in the other cases we thought could be connected were the women's hair color, height, build, and the locations they disappeared from. Their apartments were ransacked the same way. There was blood in only one woman's apartment, but all of the cases appeared as if the women were leaving in a hurry.

"Someone forced them to pack their bags and leave somewhat willingly."

"They must have recognized the person. It has to be the Master. They would know him from the club and what his high position is,” Grace offered.

"What do you mean?” Max wasn't understanding Grace's meaning.

"Max, there's a whole different way of thinking there. They have the Master, who's the owner and the person in ultimate control. Then there are different positions people hold. I tried to get away with playing a part that was obviously seen through. This short guy attempted to control me until the Master intervened. There's so much we don't understand about this lifestyle. I'm sure there's even worse things going on.” Grace explained about the hallway and the peep show.

"Clubs like this, Grace, usually stick to illegal drugs, organized prostitution with willing participants. A sex slave business? I don't know."

"What's there to question, Max? This Master guy is intense, forceful, and completely in control. You weren't there, Max! This is not just some hidden club where your typical illegal drugs, prostitution and pornography take place. As bad as all that is, it's nothing compared to the possibility that the Master is using the club as a front for an illegal sex slave business."

"Vice would be on top of that."

"You don't know that for sure. Check with them and see what you come up with. I'll check on my end."

Max looked intrigued by the fact Grace knew someone in vice, an informant of some kind. She was resourceful as any good detective was.

Grace's head pounded now as she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. After kicking off her high heels, she rose from the couch and sighed out of exhaustion.

"We'll call Mary tomorrow and schedule a time to meet her. She knows more. She can explain everything better."

"It is tomorrow, Grace."

She looked toward the clock that hung on the wall. It read 4:20 a.m.

Max moved closer, placing his warm hand against her cheek. Without her heels, Max was much taller than she.

The look on his face revealed his worry and concern. This was complicated. She knew it and needed to get Max out of her home. Then they needed to question the Master.

"I don't want to leave you,” he finally stated and she smiled.

"I'll be fine, Lieutenant Mathews. I'm going to get out of this ridiculous outfit, take a hot shower and head to bed for a couple of hours.” Grace began to move away, but Max wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. His hand gently held her face.

"You're an amazing woman, Grace,” he whispered then placed his lips over hers. They embraced as they kissed. Their lips connected together tenderly at first, then more passionately.

Grace wasn't sure how to interpret Max's sudden show of affection and concern for her. She reminded herself she was dressed inappropriately and couldn't help but wonder if that were the source of his attraction. She pulled away and turned her back to him.

A moment later, Max placed his hands on her shoulders.

She refused to look at him.

"Did I do something wrong? I thought..."

"You thought wrong, Max. This is not me.” She pointed to her outfit, then grabbed the brown chenille throw blanket from the couch. She wrapped it around herself and headed toward the door.

"I'll be fine, Max, and I'll call you later. We'll make plans to meet with Mary."

"It has been a long night for you, Grace. And I know you say you have all this experience, but I'm worried. Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I'll take the couch."

"That won't be necessary, Max."

Reluctantly, he grabbed his coat off of the barstool and met her by the front entrance.

Grace thought he was only interested in her because of the outfit she wore and the role she was forced to play so well tonight.

He walked toward her and as she opened the door, he placed his hand against it and stopped her. His arm held her between himself and the door.

Reaching up, Max caressed her lower lip gently with his thumb. Their gazes locked.

"I just want you to know that I kissed you and I'm worried about you because I care. Your role tonight, this outfit you're wearing had nothing to do with my timing or my reaction. I'm attracted to you and know you are attracted to me as well, so don't put up any false walls, Grace. I'll just keep knocking them down."

He caressed her chin, then her cheek, lightly, as if it were the most natural thing to do, and he had every right to make such intimate contact. Her belly quivered in response.

"Now get some rest and I'll wait for your call.” He smiled, then left her.

The door closed. Grace placed the palms of her hands against the door and her forehead. The coldness of the metal felt good against her skin.

She thought of Max's words and hoped he told the truth.

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The dog kept barking and growling until his owner finally walked across the road to the old stone tunnel. It hadn't been used in decades, and the door against the front was broken, probably from the kids who found it adventurous to enter the lair.

He was sure there was probably some dead animal or old garbage inside that made the dog's senses react, but then again Tex was a Labrador Retriever and he lived to fetch and retrieve.

It was 5:00 a.m. and still very dark out, but the old man had a flashlight with him, so he obliged the dog.

He walked to the door and pulled it open. Tex went running in. About twenty feet inside, the dog halted and continued to bark. The old man entered slow and carefully, not looking forward to getting bit by some insect, snake, or rabid raccoon. He shone the flashlight first on Tex, and then toward the ground. His heart dropped. H called the dog to him, then quickly exited the tunnel.

He ran to his house and dialed 911.

Max had taken a shower and had just dried himself off when his cell phone rang. He walked over to the dresser to answer it.

"Yeah, Max, it's Tommy. They found Jessy Levitz's body."

Quickly, Max got dressed, then headed toward the crime scene.

Max stood near the body of Jessy Levitz, filling Tommy in on the information Grace discovered last night.