Perfect Fit (25 page)

As they chatted about everyday things, as she seemed content, his mood worsened, which only pissed him off. He had a woman who accepted his life and wasn’t making demands. He should be relieved. Hell, he
should
be sinking into her willing body and taking everything she was willing to give. But she’d had a rough weekend and though he knew sex would be a good temporary distraction, he couldn’t shake the feeling that sleeping with her tonight, when their feelings were so raw, wouldn’t be fair to her.

She met his gaze over her spoonful of ice cream and grinned.

Okay, maybe her feelings weren’t raw after all, but his were. He was feeling unsettled after their intense talk, almost…unhappy that he was getting everything he wanted and thought he needed out of a relationship.

So instead of staying, he kissed her good night and headed home.

Monday morning, Mike stared at the mound of paperwork
on his desk that seemed to have grown over the weekend. He had a part-time administrative assistant, a fifty-five-year-old woman named Rachel who liked to mother him and the rest of the officers who worked under him. Thankfully she was on this morning, and when she walked in with two cups of coffee, he gratefully accepted his and they got to work.

While she sifted through the various papers, Rachel made notes, updated his calendar, and sorted everything into piles for filing later on.

An hour later, they were nearly at the bottom of his inbox. True, his schedule was full for the week, but he was up and running efficiently once more.

“I’m not sure what I’d do without you,” he said to Rachel.

“Your father used to say the same thing. If I’m making myself indispensable, I’m doing my job right.” She smiled, and she looked younger than her light silver hair usually made her look.

“My father’s a smart man.” Mike smiled at the thought of Simon in this same seat.

“And you’ve got a lot of him in you. The respect you command from your officers, the way you don’t take the mayor’s BS—pardon my French—and of course, your way with the ladies.” She laughed. “Not that you’d do anything about all that attention they give you. You’re like your daddy in that way too.”

“Attention?” Mike asked. Since he’d been back in Serendipity, he hadn’t noticed any women paying him special notice.

“Another way you’re like Simon, God bless him. Once he laid eyes on your mama, there wasn’t another woman who could distract him.”

Mike didn’t know which comment to tackle first, so he went with the easiest. “You don’t say? Dad was a goner from the beginning?” He wanted to hear more about Simon and Ella in the early days, after Rex left and they’d gotten together.

He often wondered if Simon had done the right thing and fallen in love later, or if he’d always had a thing for Ella but the coast wasn’t clear until Rex left town. He’d also been curious about his mom, whether she’d married Simon out of desperation or true caring. He didn’t doubt she loved him now, but in the beginning? Mike shivered, knowing he was
more afraid to know that part of the story, whether being pregnant with Mike had compelled his mother to make a choice she wouldn’t have otherwise.

He forced himself to refocus on Rachel, who was looking at him with a funny expression on her face. “Did you hear me?” she asked.

“Sorry. I got distracted.”

“I said, Simon always loved your mama, even when she was with that scoundrel, Rex…Oh!” Rachel slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”

Mike shook his head. “You spoke the truth. No need to apologize.” Everyone, it seemed, knew Rex Bransom hadn’t been a man worth knowing.

Cheeks still pink, Rachel looked to Mike’s desk, pulling a manila envelope from the bottom of his inbox. “This is the last thing. It has your name on it.” She handed the package to Mike without meeting his gaze.

“It’s okay, Rachel. Really.”

She nodded. “Thank you. I’m going to take these stacks and head over to the filing room.” She gathered the papers and quickly made her escape.

With a groan, Mike lowered himself back to his seat, package in hand. He didn’t recognize the writing but realized this had to be the envelope he’d gotten a phone call about over a week ago. He’d forgotten all about it and obviously it’d been buried beneath piles of paperwork.

He opened the envelope and a clichéd black book fell out, along with a note. A quick read told him it was from Judge Baine’s wife:

In a lucid moment, my husband asked me to give you this. Old mistakes that he paid for by living with his guilty conscience that eats away at what few good moments he has now. As many suspected, the old Winkler place was, in fact, a brothel. Many otherwise good, prominent men kept it going—until the time you were asking about. Now you
have the list in your hands. Do with it what you must. My husband has more than made up for his sins, at least to me, and he’s barely aware of what’s going on around him most of the time, anyway. But he did want to clear his conscience, and I followed his wishes.

Mike glanced up at the ceiling in his office. “A lead as well as some answers. Thank you, God.”

He jumped up and headed for the squad room, intent on finding Cara. He found her at her desk, typing in reports on the barebones system they had. Soon, though, his new system would be in place and even when he was gone from here, he’d have made a lasting impression.

That mattered to him, he realized. This place, a small police station with dingy walls, an air conditioner that needed to be replaced, and the people in it,
mattered
.

“Hi!” Cara glanced up from her desk.

Beautiful blue eyes focused on him and immediately brightened his day. “Hi. You have some time?”

“Umm, sure. Let me just save this…” She hit a button and pushed her chair back. “Ready. What’s up?”

He looked her over, loving how she appeared so in control and sexy in her uniform. “I have a lead on the money in the evidence room. Or at the very least, I have a list of names and information I can’t discuss here.”

“Then let’s go.”

She was dropping everything? “Don’t you have work to do?”

“I’m on top of things.”

“Good. I want to look at this in private. Can we go to your place?”

“Sure, but yours is closer.”

Mike paused. “But yours is warmer.” And he didn’t mean temperature. He liked the homey feel of her condo, and for the news he assumed he’d be getting, he didn’t want to be in his sterile room over Joe’s Bar.

Back at her condo, Cara made them grilled cheese
sandwiches while Mike sat down at the kitchen table, pad and pen in front of him, Judge Baine’s black book open wide.

“It looks like a ledger,” she said, glancing over from where she stood at the stove, frying up lunch.

“It is, but it’s not used like one. Not exclusively anyway. There’s a list of names here. Prominent businessmen with initials underneath their names.”

She slid the spatula beneath the sandwiches, flipped them one more time, placed them on plates, and carried them to the table. “What else is there?”

He flipped through the book, coming to empty pages.

“Flip further,” she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. “And eat before it gets cold. I worked hard on these.”

He grinned and took a bite. His eyes glazed over. “Delicious. This isn’t just grilled cheese.”

Pleasure filled her. “I’m not sharing my secret recipe. Besides, it’s not like you’ll ever cook it. If you want it, you’ll have to come to me and get it.”

“That would be my pleasure.” He started to reach for her, but she slapped his hand.

“Work first,” she said, tapping the book with her finger.

“Can we play later?” His eyes darkened at the suggestion, and her heart skipped a beat.

She’d been disappointed when he’d kissed her and gone home last night, but a part of her understood. They’d both admitted to deeper-than-planned feelings, and sleeping together last night would have been a very bad idea. She’d have ended up
feeling
way too much. This afternoon, though, they were back on familiar playful ground, where she at least had a shot at keeping her emotions in check.

“Maybe,” she said, teasing him. “Now keep looking.”

He turned the sheets of paper one by one, finally coming to another set of filled pages. “Bingo. Women’s names.”

“I bet you can match those to the initials underneath the men’s names.”

A quick scan back and forth proved her right. “Okay, so the initials are names of women,” he said.

“One question answered. Let’s focus on the men. Any names you recognize?”

“Other than the judge? Only almost every one,” Mike muttered. “Judges, politicians, family men, men with money, working-class guys…” He shook his head in disgust.

“Is Simon in there?” she asked gently.

He skimmed the pages more than once before meeting her gaze. “No.” His eyes shimmered with relief. “No, thank God.”

So whatever Simon knew, he hadn’t been cheating on his wife.

“What about—”

“Yeah. Rex is here,” he said, reading her mind. “And not just as a patron but as a benefactor. Hell, it looks like Rex helped fund the place. There’s cash notations next to names, including Rex and…oh shit.”

“What?” She leaned in close.

“Martin Harrington, Faith’s father, is in here.” He slammed the book closed. “It’s like a bird’s-eye view of the sex lives of the men in Serendipity.”

“Eww.”

He nodded in agreement. “Let’s break this down. What do we know?”

“We’ve confirmed that the Winkler place was a brothel and that the old boys’ network kept it going.” Having finished her sandwich, Cara pushed her plate away and took a long drink of her water.

Mike, too, took the last bite of his sandwich and added his plate to hers. “What about the money in the evidence locker?”

“We know marked bills were found in both the trunk and the evidence locker, so we know there are ties to the Winkler
place. We know many prominent men in Serendipity were involved, and we know whatever it is has been over for years,” Cara said.

“So we have more information now than we did before, but we’re still at a dead end, and unless we want to question every man on this list and bring all this dirty laundry to light after thirty years, we’re still at a dead end. And the only two people we have asked aren’t talking.”

Cara rose and placed her hands on his shoulders, massaging the tight knots, engaging all her senses as she worked her fingers through his shirt and into his skin. “All you can do now is wait until you feel Simon’s strong enough to push for answers.”

Which put this case back on hold.

“The mayor left a message this morning. Hell, she called last week.”

“Just tell her you’ve reached a dead end. It’s not a lie.”

“It’s not the truth, either.”

She stilled her hands and leaned her cheek against his. “We haven’t found anything that needs to be revealed.”

He inclined his head. “And I bend the rules all the time when it suits me. And it suits me now. I just need to know.”

“I get that.” She kissed his cheek, savoring the masculine scent and the rough stubble against her lips.

His appreciative groan rumbled through her at the same time his cell phone rang. “Dammit.” He grabbed his phone. “Yeah.” He listened to the caller on the other end. “Thanks, Erin. I’ll let her know.” He disconnected the call and turned to face her.

“What?”

“Bob Francone made bail.”

Cara sucked in a startled breath. “Because it wasn’t the first time, I thought they’d keep him locked up. But I’m a cop. I know better.” She kicked the leg of his chair, but he was still sitting in it and the pain seared through her toe. “Ouch. Shit. Damn!”

“Hey.” Instead of letting her continue taking her frustration out on herself, he did what he should have done last night instead of leaving. He scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the room.

“Hey! Put me down. I have to call Daniella and let her know.”

“Erin already did. That’s her job, remember?”

“Then she needs protection.”

“Which we can’t give her. Her job is off a federal highway and she’s staying with someone who lives outside Serendipity. But she has a restraining order—”

“Which means nothing, and you know that!” She wriggled in his arms, but he held on tight. Damn, he liked the weight and feel of her. “Stop moving,” he said, pressing his lips against her neck and licking her there.

She sighed and let out a soft moan. “If I do, can I call Daniella?”

Mike closed his eyes, realizing so much about her in one short second. “Cara, you can’t take care of everyone. You can’t control what’s going to happen. Sometimes, you just have to let things
be
.”

She cuddled into him, her actions speaking more of trust than lust, and his heart melted. “Mike?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can I call Daniella now?”

Mike said the only thing that came to mind. “If I agree, can we end up in bed?”

Fourteen

Cara spent the rest of the week working and remembering
the amazing sex she’d had with Mike on Monday afternoon. He’d kept her in his arms, picked up her cell off the counter, and waited as she’d called Daniella, got voice mail, and left a message. Next thing she knew, he couldn’t keep his hands off her—and vice versa. He lay over her, skin to skin, and breathed her in. She felt him inhale and groan, his entire body shaking. Then he made love to her.

She knew the difference. He took control as usual, but the reverence in his touch was different; the way he caressed her with his lips, his hands, his mouth—was different. When he entered her, his gaze drinking her in as he thrust deep, he owned her. She knew it even if he never would.

Now, on Friday, her day off, she could barely concentrate, but she’d promised Alexa they’d go dress shopping for Joe and Annie’s upcoming wedding. Cara wasn’t a girly-girl who loved shopping, unlike Alexa, who enjoyed the whole process even if she didn’t get off work much to indulge. They
drove to the nearest mall, twenty minutes away, and Cara let Alexa do her thing. She pulled a variety of dresses for each of them, choosing an assortment of colors, lengths, and shapes. Cara wasn’t big on bright colors, so in between her friends’ choices, she tossed in some basic black too.