Murder in the River City (16 page)

“The Garcias and the Murphys have been friends since before any of us were born. My dad and Frank Murphy were in the Army together. They went to college together on the GI bill. They married best friends. We’re family.” That wasn’t all of it.

Hooper nodded. “All right.”

Nothing else. Good. Sam didn’t want to talk about Shauna anymore. He wanted to see her.

Sam had to admit, for a clandestine operation with no eyes inside the event, Hooper’s plan was solid. They didn’t expect any trouble, nor did they expect Jason Butler would be exposed. Not even the parole board knew the arrangement Butler had made with the FBI.

Hooper asked Abbott, “What’s the status on the warrants?”

“AUSA Keene is working on it. We won’t know until late tonight.”

“Detective?” Hooper turned to John Black. “What about yours?”

“I met with the District Attorney, who understands the sensitivity of my request. He’s meeting a judge early in the morning, one he trusts.”

Sam asked, “Warrants for what?”

Hooper said, “We’re asking for the same thing, hoping we can get it either locally or federally. I want to bug Davis. The difficulty, why we haven’t been able to get anything before, is because he’s a lawyer and there’s attorney-client privilege. We wouldn’t be able to use anything against him that we learned if he was speaking to a client who had the reasonable expectation of privacy. But with Butler and Shauna going in, I think we have a strong argument for them wearing a wire. I’m also arguing for audio and visual surveillance of the restaurant they’re meeting in before the charity event.”

“You want Shauna to wear a wire.” Sam hated the idea.

“She’s already agreed.”

Of course she did, Sam thought.

Sam had one small victory in protection for Shauna and Jason. Hooper had agreed to work Manny Rodriguez in as a valet. The valet service was separate from the hotel, and Manny knew the manager. Because they feared Davis would be tipped off to law enforcement presence if any of the hotel staff changed, valet was the best place for Manny.

The big question was if Joey Gleason was going to show up. If yes, then John would arrest him for murder and hold him over the weekend. He had no solid evidence, and had held back getting a search warrant at Hooper’s request. There was no doubt Gleason would get a lawyer, but they didn’t want to tip off anyone at Coresco’s firm before the event.

If Gleason didn’t show up, he was most likely dead, and his death would end the only lead in Mack’s murder.

After getting the room number and key for the FBI suite at the Hyatt where Hooper himself would be coordinating surveillance and information, Sam walked out with John Black. “I think this whole thing is going to blow up in our faces,” Sam said.

“I think you’re right.”

Sam frowned. “I’d hoped you would tell me I was worried for nothing.”

“Hooper has a solid plan. And I like that he’s flexible. But Coresco has not only avoided prosecution, he’s stayed way down on the radar. I’ve heard the rumblings, and I sat in on Hooper’s meeting with Manny about what he knew of the law firm. But, Hooper has been working this sting operation for three years. He knows it’s dangerous, but it’s also important.”

“You have a lot of faith in the FBI.”

“I’ve known Dean Hooper for several years. He’s one of the most professional and intelligent FBI agents I’ve met. He used to work in DC as the assistant director for all financial crimes. Coming here as an ASAC was, essentially, a voluntary demotion.”

“Why?”

“He got married. Love makes you question everything, and you make different choices.”

Sometimes, you made the wrong choices.

And sometimes, you made the right ones.

#

When Shauna arrived home at ten, she’d found a dozen white roses in a vintage glass vase on her doorstep. She didn’t have to read the card to know they were from Austin. He’d sent her a dozen white roses before each of their dates. The first time, she found the gesture sweet and romantic, after, the flowers themselves seemed to demand more of her than she could give.

She brought them inside and put them on the table in front of the bay window. She sighed and looked at the card.

Dearest Shauna,

Thank you for being my escort tomorrow at the charity ball. You will certainly be the most beautiful woman present. No strings.

Love, Austin

Shauna was hot and miserable. She went upstairs and took a cool shower, then put on an over-sized, threadbare T-shirt that must have been her brother Brian’s because it said USMC on the front, but she couldn’t remember when she’d obtained it.

She sat down in the dining room with the too-loud air conditioner and ate chocolate ice cream out of a large bowl. She was feeling lonely and guilty, and considered calling her brother Mike, who’d be getting off his shift at midnight. She doubted she’d sleep much.

She wished she’d been more emphatic with Austin about the damn dress. She dreaded what he’d pick out for her—not because it wouldn’t be gorgeous, but because it would be outrageously expensive and she knew now where his money came from. And she’d never wear it again. She’d probably want to burn it.

Her doorbell rang. It was original to the house, a beautiful chime her father had fixed when she first moved in.

It was late and she almost didn’t answer it, fearing it would be Austin. She didn’t know if she could fake it anymore, the twenty minutes they’d spent together in the bar had drained her. But it was obvious she was home—her car was in the driveway and her lights were on.

She dragged herself to the door and looked out the small, inset glass.

Sam.

Her heart raced even though she didn’t want to see Sam, either. But she opened the door.

He stood there on her welcome mat, his handsome face long, with a bunch of poppies in his hand—poppies with the roots and dirt still attached.

“Shauna, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Forgive me.”

She blinked and her mouth opened, but no words came out. She had nothing to say. No sarcastic comment. No smug victorious smirk.

Sam stepped inside and saw the roses. “Davis?” he asked.

She nodded.

He took the roses out of the vase and plopped the wilting poppies in the water. “Okay?” he asked.

She nodded.

He closed and bolted her door, then pulled her against his chest and kissed her.

Her knees buckled, but he grabbed her ass and held her close, his mouth firmly, expertly claiming hers. She only hesitated for a second before lust replaced shock. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight.

His hands moved up her shirt, kneading her skin, rough and urgent. His mouth was locked on hers, taking her breath away, and when she pulled back for air, he moved greedily down her jaw to her neck, his tongue leaving wet kisses all the way to her ear. He bit her lobe, hard enough to feel the imprint of his teeth, just below the threshold of pain. She gasped as his hands moved under her bikinis and held her butt cheeks firmly, his fingers deeply massaging her, inching closer to her center. Then he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and held on as he carried her to the couch in the dining room.

“My. Bedroom. Up.” She could hardly breathe, let alone talk.

“Here. Now.” He dropped her to the couch. Her panties fell around one of her ankles and Sam pulled off his T-shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. She took the brief moment of reprieve to try to slow her racing heart, but when she saw his broad, toned chest slick with sweat, she smiled, pulled off the USMC shirt, and knelt on the couch. She splayed her hands across his chest. His heart pounded beneath his rib cage, a powerful rhythm she hoped to mimic in bed. Or on the couch. Or on the floor. Or all three.

She kissed him, the salty taste reminding her of hot nights on the beach and dreams of a night just like tonight, with this man.

She should be scared. The feelings she’d had for Sam Garcia for so long should terrify her. But they didn’t. Sex had never felt this right. She’d never wanted to make love this badly. She’d never felt like she needed a man like she needed—
craved—
Sam Garcia.

Sam wasn’t going to last long, not this time, not since he’d been in a perpetual state of semi-arousal since their groping kiss the night before that left him with hot promises. He grabbed Shauna’s wrists when her hands started moving south, and he kissed her again. She met him with the same urgency he felt inside, and her passion drove him. He pushed her back down onto the couch, everything about their relationship as volatile and exciting as this full body, fully naked kiss. He wanted to tell Shauna she was the most gorgeous creature on the planet, but when he said her name, she scraped her fingernails down his back hard enough to send a jolt of lust to his already hard dick. She then grabbed his ass like he’d grabbed hers before and squeezed, her fingers getting too close to the sensitive skin at the base of his penis. He adjusted his body so she couldn’t reach him and moved his kisses down to her perfect breasts. He licked one, then the other, going back and forth, sucking harder each time he changed sides, nibbling her nipples until she cried out. He smiled, feeling like the cat that ate the canary at how hot and responsive she was to him—until she rolled him over and he fell on the floor.

She sat up on top of him, her entire body flushed.

“Condom,” she demanded.

“Wallet.”

She had to turn to find his jeans, and Sam took the opportunity to try to slow his pace. But then she crawled halfway across the room and he saw her from behind and immediately realized
slow
wasn’t going to cut it. Not the first time. Not when they’d been holding off for so long.

He crawled after her, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down beneath him. He kissed her while grabbing his wallet from her hands.

“I want to do it,” she said impishly.

“If you touch me, I’ll explode,” he said with a low growl.

Shauna watched as Sam rolled the condom on. She smiled seductively and said, “I saw three of those in your wallet.”

“And I’m going to use each one.” He leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “First, I’m going to make love to you hard and fast, because you’ve already driven me to the brink. Then, I’m going to take you upstairs and you’re going to do the same to me. Then, just when you think you can’t move, I’m going to kiss you everywhere. Your mouth.” He kissed her lightly. “Your breasts.” He sucked her highly stimulated nipples and she gasped. “And right here.”

He slid his penis deep inside her, then stopped himself. He wanted to savor it at the same time he wanted her
now.

This moment was everything Shauna had imagined and more.
More.
She reached down and pressed his ass firmly, pushing him in as deep as he could go, while moving her pelvis up to meet him.

“Shauna,” he mumbled in her ear.

She loved hearing him say her name. She loved that he was eager for her. She wrapped her right leg around his waist and grabbed his biceps. She tilted her head back and Sam pulled almost all the way out, then sank back in. She gasped with each movement, overheated and spiraling quickly toward complete satisfaction.

Every muscle in Sam’s body went rigid and his penis jerked deep inside her. He joined her as he took her over the edge. She bit back a cry. Too hot, too fast, too much pent up lust. She wanted more.

“Again, Sam,” she whispered.

He kissed the skin at the base of her throat, over and over, then her neck, her jawline, and finally her lips. He kissed her with such warmth and affection she lost her breath again.

“I love you, Shauna,” he whispered. “I’ve loved you forever.”

She smiled. “I knew you would come to your senses eventually.” She kissed him, then turned his head so she could whisper in his ear. “I love you, too, Sam Garcia. Now take me upstairs and keep your promises.”

Chapter Seventeen

Friday

Mack’s funeral was at the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacramento Friday at ten a.m., followed by a party at Dooley’s. Shauna focused on each of her responsibilities so she wouldn’t have to think about this evening. It was just an act, so the FBI could gather evidence. And hopefully, put the bad guys behind bars.

But the end game wasn’t for weeks or months, according to Dean Hooper, and that meant Shauna had to be cordial to Austin. What was she going to tell him after tonight? She couldn’t keep up the farce for
months.
She didn’t know if she’d be able to get through it for one night.

Except, if he was party to killing Mack, she had a duty and obligation to stop him.

“Shauna, girl, what’s troubling you?” Dooley asked.

She looked up, almost forgetting she was wiping down the bar.

“The bar is clean. You’ve been scrubbing the same spot for five minutes.”

“Sad, Da, just sad.”

He laid his gnarled hands on hers. “Me, too, girl. Me, too.”

Sam walked in and caught Shauna’s eye. He winked and a weight lifted from her heart. They’d agreed not to talk alone today because Agent Hooper was worried Austin had people reporting back. If he thought there was any set up, he might change the plans for the event.

It was the waiting that was killing her. She was not a patient woman.

Her cell phone rang. It was a blocked call. “Hello?”

“Ms. Murphy? It’s Dean Hooper.”

“Hello.” What was she supposed to say?

“The warrant came through. I have a female agent, Melanie Hale, who’s going to meet you at your house at three under the guise of being a friend.”

“Austin might know my friends.”

“What about a neighbor?”

“Okay.”

“You don’t sound comfortable.”

“I’m not getting cold feet—I know this is important—but I think
he
thinks that because I’m going with him to this ball that we’re back together. Or that I’ll say something and screw it up. I’m not a good liar.”

“I agree. If we don’t get what we need, we still have Butler inside. But if you want to back out, let me know.”