Intimate Danger (Empire Blue) (7 page)

Trent nodded and looked over his shoulder. “It’s ready.” He held up a hand and showed the silver dis
c sitting inside of a clear plastic container. “Let’s roll,” he said with a nod down the hall.

Charlie cast a quick glance at Dwayne and found him looking at her curiously, then glancing at Trent and giving him the same look. She frowned, brushed it off, and headed out of the room on Trent’s heels.

Back at the station, she sat at her desk in the hushed room with Trent, his body slightly behind her, his head next to hers, both of them staring at the screen of her monitor.

“Holy shit,” she breathed again as the darkened view popped up. The camera recorded in an eerie green haze, making the picture clearer in the darkness.
It was high, so the details weren’t all that great, but it did cover the entire room. A shadow moved around and then a soft lamp muted the room. Charlie blinked to focus, the change of the lighting so abrupt she almost flinched.

“
Hell, he’s got a mask,” Trent murmured next to her ear, his breath puffing escaped tendrils of her hair from the tie at her neck.

Charlie
shivered. She leaned forward and sat her cup down, then purposefully leaned away from his body. A low chuckle from Trent assured her he hadn’t missed this. Focusing back on the screen, she studied everything about what was going on.

The perp had a black mask over his face, black gloves on his hands, and wore a long sleeve black shirt and dark pants. Talk about cliché. He moved purposefully toward a dresser and Charlie sucked in a breath as he set out pieces of lingerie across the bed, handling the cloth with such care it almost seemed as if he should be handling the finest silk.

Once that was done, he quickly undressed and she got another big clue to her case. He was Caucasian. She had to force her eyes to stay on the screen. There was something intimate, yet very disturbing about watching a man undress, even if he was a perverted sicko on the loose and terrorizing her small town. Seeing as she couldn’t even watch a good porno without blushing—and yes, she had tried—this seemed no different.

Once he was fully nude, and she had to admit even this guy had a nice body, was in shape, fit, with tight rounded butt cheeks, he swayed next to the bed, looking down at his masterpiece. The mask still stayed on his face and she wondered if he had suspicions
about the room being monitored.

H
e leaned over and reached for the midnight blue corset. Charlie gasped as he brought the piece to his nose.

He slipped the material over his hands, drew the thin strap over his shoulder, and shuddered
visibly as smooth, silky fabric settled against his skin. He leaned forward and slipped the opposite strap up. His shoulders drew back, and he fastened the eyehooks behind. He was unable to complete the task as the material strained against his wider torso, but apparently it was enough. He ran his hands along his sides and looked down at himself.

Charlie fought the bile that ran up her throat. Never in all the weeks she been investigating this guy did she think his sicko level ran to this. What man wanted to put on lingerie? Who got off on something like that? And more, what in the hell were they going to do to catch him?

He turned and sat on the bed, slid the matching lace thong up his legs before he stood and settled the cloth low on his hips. His erection jerked as he looked at his lingerie-clad body. Muscles strained against the smaller cloth. His body struggled to fit, bulged in places bulges weren’t meant to happen in such material.

It was then he allowed his hand to rub over his sex
, and she snapped her face away from the screen.

“Oh, God,”
she huffed. “What the fuck?”

“Shit,” Trent said under his breath. “The dude is jacking off in some stranger’s lingerie.”

Charlie forced her attention back to the screen, swallowed hard and watched as the perp’s hips pumped, joined in the seeking satisfaction, gyrating. He turned to the bed, his eager look worked to a frenzy as he took in the pieces displayed.

He fell back on the thick comforter
, surrounded by a dozen different pieces of cloth. So out of place, Charlie thought. His heels dug into the bed, and he pushed his hips into his hand.

Suddenly his head snapped up and the perp looked just below the camera. From the angle Charlie guessed this camera was inside the air duct just above the entrance to the bedroom. The perp scrambled off the bed and dashed for his clothing, not bothering
to take off the lingerie. He whipped around to grab his bag and hit the bedside lamp, sending it crashing to the floor.

Just after the lamp fell, his head snapped back to the doorway again and
he fumbled with a flashlight, shoving it into his bag as he ran for the bay window. He yanked the curtain open and cast one more furious look toward the door before he bounded from the window.

Seconds later the two homeowners, the man and his wife came into view, dashing over to the window and screaming words only they knew, seeing as the video was
video feed only, not audio.

Charlie stood and walked away from her desk. She didn’t know what to think of it, didn’t know that people like that existed in the world.

“Charlie,” Trent called from behind her, but she didn’t stop, didn’t acknowledge his call, didn’t do anything but walk at a quick pace to the door. She needed air and about a gallon of bleach to get rid of all that she had just seen.

Pushing out of the room, she ran through the small lobby and stepped outside
, gulping in deep breaths of air that promised a rise in temperature and humidity once the sun came up. As it was, light hinted over the horizon, tossing the dark blue of the sky into an array of pinks, purple, and yellow.

Behind her she heard the door shut and felt Trent’s presence even before he spoke.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

She shook her head
, trying to reign in her emotions. She wasn’t one for losing control, nor was she one that thought the world was all hearts and rainbows, cheery waves and peace. No, she was a cop. She knew things happened and that’s why she chose this profession—to help make the world better. What she didn’t think about was just how depraved some people could be. And to think, that wasn’t even the worse of what she suspected would happen if they didn’t find this sicko soon. While before she thought she was in over her head, now she
knew
she was.

Gentle hands settled on her shoulders and turned her around. She stared at the black of Trent’s shirt before he used his fingers to lift her face to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already said that,” she replied, getting lost in his dark blue eyes. They matched the sky she had just been staring at.

He brushed a tendril of her hair behind an ear and glanced over her shoulder, searching for words. His gaze came back. “I feel like I need to say it again. If I knew that’s what the video would have shown, I wouldn’t have made you watch it.”

“I don’t need to be sheltered, Trent. I was just shocked, that’s all. It’s not every day you see some wacko get naked, put on lingerie, and jack off, you know? But hey, free porn, so I’m sure all I’ll need is a gallon of acid to scramble my brains and then I should sleep better tonight.”

His lips tightened and her gaze dropped to them. Despite watching that level of depravity, she still found herself drawn to this man. How was that possible?

“Charlie,” Trent rumbled, his voice a very clear warning.

Her gaze shot up to his and she stiffened, seeing naked desire heating his eyes. Shit.
“I’m hungry,” she blurted out.

Trent’s eyes widened before he grinned, a slight tilt to his mouth that had her stomach flipping.

“Yeah?” he asked and started to pull her closer, his arms coming around her shoulders like steel bands. Her body touched his and that stomach flip turned into a full on tumble that she bet would rival the Summer Olympics gymnastics squad. He was hard…everywhere. Her breasts pressed to his chest, her thighs against his, and their hips, dear Lord, their hips fit to perfection.

“Trent,” she breathed, her words spoken on a gasp. “Food. I’m hungry for food.”

He chuckled and the feeling of his body shaking against her hard nipples sent a spike of lust straight between her legs. Hell, he felt good.

“Then maybe we need to feed you, huh?” he asked with so much sexual innuendo it was a surprise she didn’t fall at his feet.

That thought, and his comment, had her snapping her eyes up to his and pushing her hands, against the very, very, very hard wall of his chest.

“You’re arrogant, you know that?” she asked.

He grinned again and crossed his arms, looking pointedly down at her chest before grinning wider. “I’m confident, Charlie. Let’s go eat.”

****

Light filtered through the doorway, a sliver of his treat waiting. The sound of falling water filled the room and mist escaped its confines, pushed out to the dark room where he waited.

He had been standing for hours, holding
back from the impulse for gratification. His muscles cramped, his body glued to the spot with the length of time he had been there. Even a slight shift tugged at muscles tense from waiting, being restrained. His mind, though, ran rapid with expectations of what was to come.

Glanc
ing at his bag, he shivered at the remembrance of what he had pulled from her lingerie drawer. This woman seemed to have a fetish for lace. The cloth had been slightly rough against him, but the erotic peek-a-boo of his skin increased his excitement, and drove him toward a new type of curiosity. Never before had he made voluntary contact with his pawns—the females who gave to him, provided for him. Tonight something awoke, a darker craving to see just how much more he could obtain.

A sweet feminine hum broke the silence, and he cocked his head, listened as
the shower door closed.

In an instant, his body came alive, hardened
, and excitement thrummed through his veins.

He stepped forward, approached the brown door, and used two gloved fingers to
push it open.

To his left stood the enclosed standing shower, tempered glass fogged from steam. To his right
a mirror with condensation around the corners reflected a woman’s nude form. Her breasts lifted as she slathered shampoo in her hair. She closed her eyes as hot water poured in rivulets along her skin. The drops traveled in a path, moving across pink flesh, jumping over curves, diving into valleys, falling from the peaks of her nipples.

He untied his boots, still watching her, taking in his treat. He rose, toed off one, the other.
His breath was loud to his ears, but the only sound acknowledged in the room was from the water, the shuffling of bottles by the unaware female. The woman twisted, grabbed another bottle from the shower shelf, her hum still filling the air along with the rising steam.

He worked at his pants, kicked them and his boxers off. His erection pulsed, free of its confinement as he tugged off his shirt and tossed it aside. He took another step,
and the woman turned into the water again, her eyes closed, a look of bliss across her china-like features. His hands itched with the closeness of their bodies. Only air and a thin sheet of glass separated him from his next step. Should she turn now, she’d see him there, staring, panting like some rabid dog. He almost wanted it, considered drawing her attention. Picturing the look on her face, the sheer helplessness would almost be worth it.

He licked his lips as water traveled across her flat stomach, dipped lower. He followed the suds’ course down her figure. Bubbles collected in her navel, toppled over and ran along her legs to the floor.
He stepped forward, panting at the sight, and was reaching for the door when his foot hit soft material on the floor.

Glancing down in passing, he saw
he had hit a discarded pink-laced bra and underwear. He picked up the cloth, set them to his nose and inhaled, almost groaning at the scent. She was right there within his reach. The craziness of the situation, the pushing past his comfort zone, getting into this risky of a situation where he could be caught, drove his excitement so high his head buzzed.

Turn toward me, scream for me, prepare yourself…for me.

He stared at his form in the mirror attached to the bathroom wall. His face was free of the black mask, flushed with arousal. His physique stood strong, hard. The pink in his hands provided contrast. Such sweet, feminine beauty held at a monster’s mercy. He groaned and wrapped the lacy underwear around his sex and stroked, studying his body, the distinct separation of male and female. Cloth gripping tight, he spent himself into the underwear and shuddered as the last of his seed filled the material.

He dropped the underwear on the counter, displayed it for his treasure and heard the shower shut off. Pivoting, he strolled from the room with quiet, sure steps, the bra still in his hand. He grabbed his clothing, and walked out of the room just as the woman stepped from her bath.

Chapter Six

Twenty-four hours after their semi-dinner date where he’d almost kissed her, Charlie and Trent sat at their desks, each typing away on keyboards. The room was quiet, and the darkness outside already blanketed the area.

“Come on, Rossi, we’re up.”

Charlie sat the phone in its cradle and slid out of the chair, passing Trent’s temporary desk with a quick thump on the top. Sweat tickled at the base of her spine as she walked by the chief’s office, and her gaze shifted away from his knowing stare. He knew too much. And while she was the queen in hiding secrets, both that she’d been a Peeping Tom victim, and now lusted like some crazed high school teenager after the star Federal Agent, she couldn’t look Woolsey in the eye. He’d see it all. And as much as she wanted to talk to someone about
everything
going on, her choices didn’t include the chief.

She transferred the grip on her coffee to pull the cruiser keys from her jacket, and pushed out the door.
It didn’t matter that the sun was going down, not up, she lived on coffee. After the almost sleepless nights, and now the call she’d received, the caffeine was a friend she couldn’t turn away. Hot liquid sloshed through the small peephole of the lid, and she cursed beneath her breath as it scorched her skin.

“Jesus, Charlie, slow down.”

A soft tug on her shoulder turned her to face Trent. As with each time he touched her, she shivered as electricity arced up her limbs and settled in a hot ball of need inside her stomach. Cool hands wrapped around her wrist as he lifted her hand closer to a lone light outside the station house. The yellow haze did nothing to provide any clarity, but instead gave off a waxy glint to her reddened skin. Darkness wrapped around them both, and she centered with sole purpose on the man, able to study him without interruptions or anyone being the wiser.

His
glossy dark hair tumbled forward as he dipped his head and studied her skin. The length stated clearly he’d gone one too many weeks without a haircut, but it was so sexily tousled, and the man held the ever-ready confidence that even he could pull it off. Eyebrows many professional models would be jealous of drew down as he frowned. She tugged on her hand, attempting to pull it from his grasp, and lost the battle as he tightened his grip.

“Hold still a moment
,” he murmured with his sole focus on her hand.

She pulled again, this time more insistent. “It’s nothing. Please give me my hand back.”

He brushed his thumb over the swelling skin and a thrill followed the same path and rolled through her.

Charlie
repressed a shudder as a different type of burn developed in her gut. Sapphire eyes lifted to hers, all too perceptive, and held her still. She parted her lips as he lifted her hand closer to his mouth, his intentions clear. Anticipation mixed with fire swirling in her stomach. She couldn’t move. Tried to, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate. She could practically feel the warmth of his breath fanning across her skin. Her toes curled inside her boots, and her legs shook.

Good God, what is he doing?
All day she’d kept up. The little flirty comments he’d make, the winking, his sexy smiles. She’d been able to handle it all because it was harmless, just a part of who she was learning Trent Rossi to be. But touching her, finally coming to understand that the electricity she’d felt wasn’t a part of her imagination, it was almost too much.

C
ool air brushed her burning skin. Her skin tingled and spread outward. The exhalation sent shivers through her body, a surreal awareness that had her squeezing her thighs together as a pulse started lower. It was so new, such a shockingly strong feeling that she had to lock her knees together, force her body to stay still and not jump on him like some sex-crazed loon.

Even with the deep recess of blue eyes holding her captive, his pupils dilate
d, his gaze grew hooded, and his body shifted forward. He tugged on her arm until the brush of his jeans hit her palm. She was imprisoned, held entranced by this man. Nothing else existed. The world around them was as dark as the sky above.

His fingers brushed along her cheek, trailed along the length of her neck and wrapped around her nape, coaxing her closer still. She shifted and parted her lips. As she
pressed against him, her breath left her lungs. Finally! In the back of her mind, she was surprised at the sound she made as air left her body.

“Charlie
, I don’t know how much longer we can ignore this.”

His voice was rough and she blinked, stunned.
What’s happening?

The shrill of
the theme song to
Law and Order
cut through the air and Charlie cursed, this time, aloud. Trent pulled back, his heated gaze doused as if she’d imagined this thing between them. She ignored his keen stare and stepped around him, pulled out her phone, and unlocked the cruiser. Her muscles felt like jelly, and hell, after being shocked with that much electricity, could she really think she’d feel like anything else? Of course there was also the hot claw of sexual tension stringing through the air, its talons gripped between them both. That was undeniable, but acting on that sexual tension in the middle of an investigation, and merely acknowledging it, were two different things. Of course, the third option was to deny it was even there. Plausible deniability always worked before. It would work now, too.

Satisfied she’d come to a decision—and a smart one at that—she
set her cell on her shoulder and bit out a greeting. “Yeah.”

A gruff voice answered. “Yeah? That’s a friendly way to answer the phone.”

She rolled her eyes and slid into the driver’s seat, hit the unlock button so Trent could join her.

“Stop rolling your eyes, Charlie.”

She sputtered, “H-how did you—”

“Save it,” the
chief responded. “I’ve got the mayor breathing down my neck. When you get back, I need to see you and Rossi in my office.”

She stiffened.

“Hold on a minute, Chief.”

“No, you wait a minute, Detective. I meant it when I said I wanted you to be careful with this, and now things are escalating.
I just got notified of the call you received before you obviously decided to high-tail it out of here without so much as a goodbye. Before you jump to any conclusions about the direction of the case, I want to hear exactly what you two have uncovered.”

“Chief,” she began
, trying to placate him, “Rossi has been here for all of forty-eight hours. There isn’t too much done yet. We went over the B&Es today, discussed the next steps, and are heading out to some woman reporting an intruder in her home.”

She could picture Woolsey’s bristle as a long sigh blew through the line. The passenger door slammed shut, but
Charlie kept her attention forward and put the car in gear, then eased out of the station parking lot.

“I understand that. Echols and I have been doing some searching, and I want us all to bring in the different pieces of data together. See if something else is out there, maybe something one of us
missed.”

She completely forgot about the
Assistant Special Agent in Charge. “What does Echols say?”

“Not much. Perhaps discussing it together will get the juices flowing.
Especially seeing as our biggest piece of evidence, the video from this morning, didn’t turn up jack.”

Charlie glanced at the glowing numbers of her dash and calculated the time this could take. They had a call they needed to respond to
and it was pushing eight o’clock at night. Her hours were all over the place. “Are you still going to be around in a few hours?”

Another insufferable sigh pushed through. “Shit. I didn’t notice the time.” Static filled the receiver, the phone muffled for a moment as if he covered it. After a few seconds, he came back on the line. “Echols and I will meet up with you two in the morning. I’ll have my phone until then. If you run into any problems, and I mean any
, you give me a call, you hear?”

T
he overbearing protection was starting to grate on her nerves. She clenched her teeth. “Yes, sir.”

The phone went dead
without a goodbye and she tossed hers in the cup holder. Rossi’s dark voice broke through the humming engine as she drove through town.

“Problems?”
he asked.

She kept her focus on the road. “Not at all. Chief and Echols want
s to meet in the morning. Talk about the case and stuff.”

He grunted in acknowledgement.

“I’ll drop you by your hotel after this and pick you up early tomorrow so we can discuss what we’re going to say before we meet with them.”

“Doesn’t seem like a whole lot to discuss at this point, depending on what we find tonight.”

“True, but like the chief pointed out, maybe one of us is missing something.”

He grunted
as if he couldn’t seem to come up with another type of communication. She blew out a breath and turned off Main at a light.

A few minutes later, she pulled up to the curb and took in the large house looming to their right. She felt Rossi’s gaze on her face
, but ignored the urge to look at him. As he turned to face the house too, she glanced at the back of his dark head, unable to resist, before returning to study the area outside.

The white
colonial shot up from the ground like a beacon. Lights shone out of every window, as if the owner did not want any hint of darkness.

Rossi turned to her. He took a deep breath and she held hers.

“Charlie, about what happened…”

She shook her head. “
Please, Agent Rossi, don’t worry about it. And please, also, don’t mention it.” Gripping the handle, she pushed the door open and stepped out into the cooling night. Not wanting to discuss anything about what was going on between her and Rossi, and certainly not wanting to get into another “situation” with him where her mind turned to mush at his touch, she rounded the car quickly. She started for the house and his car door slammed. Then she heard him jogging to catch up. The steps stopped as she reached the red-colored front door. She was very aware of how close he was when he brushed against her clothing. Her hair tickled across her cheek right before his voice breached the silence.

“Once again, it’s Trent. And Charlie, I’m not worried about it. Not at all.
In fact, I’m very much looking forward to this…progressing,” he said with a promise.

She let out a long, insufferable sigh
, trying like hell to cover the head-to-toe shiver. Turning her face to look at him over her shoulder, she said, “Look, it is what it is. I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t caught in whatever moment we had back there. But, I don’t think taking it any further would be smart. We’re assigned to work this case together and need to stay focused on it.

“So you admit there was a moment, huh?” He grinned.

Her eyes widened just as the door opened. A young woman with long, brown hair, tossed in a messy ponytail, arms wrapped tight around her body, stood there. Behind her was an older man, his gray hair in a state of disarray. His frown spoke volumes. A heavy cloud centered on the house. Charlie flashed her badge, held it open for a moment longer so the woman could study her credentials.

“Good evening, Ma’am. I’m Detective Lopez and this is Agent Rossi. I understand you’ve had some problems tonight?” She tucked her badge into her pocket and stepped inside
after the woman moved back.

“Yes, we have.” Up close, the woman looked worse for wear. Tear stains tracked down her face, and her sweater seemed to be growing longer by the minute as she stretched it with each pull of
her fingers. “I came home around seven and was on the phone with my mom when I heard a noise in my room.”

The woman looked to the older man, and then to Charlie. “I thought I was imagining something, but then I heard it again. I stayed on the phone with her but headed out of the house. When I came back about twenty minutes later with my dad—” She pointed to the man
, “I found someone had left a message for me.”

“What did you hear?” Charlie asked, trying to keep up with her story.

“Noises,” she answered and bit her lip. “From inside my closet. Not like the occasional mouse that comes inside during the fall, but more like someone, a human, was
inside
the closet.”

Charlie lifted her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, Rossi spoke.

“Message? What did it say? And would you mind showing us where you heard the sounds?”

The young woman’s face slackened as she turned to him. Charlie saw
the change and shift in the air. Electricity sizzled, a dawning light spread across the victim’s face. As if seeing Trent for the first time, she began to fidget and wipe beneath her eyes, smearing dripping mascara across her face.

“Of course, Agent Rossi.”

Was it her, or did the woman’s voice drop an octave and turn smoky?

“It was in my bedroom. Follow me.”

Is she blushing now? Oh for the love of…

He followed
the woman up the stairs.