Perilous Curves Collection (BBW Romance) (5 page)

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Authors: Christa Wick

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BOOK: Perilous Curves Collection (BBW Romance)
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I crossed under the tape, put the camera down on the floor, carefully shut the door and smoothed the tape back in place. "Can you lock this back up?"

He was slow in returning to the door, slow in locking it, and he looked two shades paler than when we had first come in. I put my hand on his arm. "Come on, let’s go out front."

"No, Liv." He tugged me closer. He bent his neck until our foreheads touched. The contact sent a wave of nostalgia washing over me. There wasn't a hot burst of need rushing down my spine or a flush warming my breasts, just a slow squeezing of my chest and the heart inside as I remembered how loved I had once felt in his arms.

"What are you thinking?"

I looked up at him, unsure what he was asking.

"When you’re in there, Liv…looking at
that
, what are you seeing?"

Right, the case -- the only reason he had looked me up. The question had nothing to do with how I felt in the circle of his arms. "Dante, I don’t want--"

"Please. Remember, my son, my friend." He broke contact long enough to grab my shoulders and lightly squeeze before he wrapped his arms back around me. "What do you see in there?"

Slowly exhaling the pain away, I closed my eyes and traced Ray’s last day in my mind. I saw the fight with Alex, saw him leave the site distracted. He’d thrown a punch at a subordinate, at a boy who was dating his daughter and, maybe worst of all, was the boss’s son. He got halfway home and realized his tools were still back at the site. Maybe out of a job, he certainly couldn't afford to lose them and he had the keys to the building.

"Ray realized his tools were still here. He came back, interrupted a thief or the thief walked in on him." I felt Dante’s relieved sigh against my skin and pulled back. I took a deep breath, centering myself. My loss was old, grown insignificant over time. It was nothing compared to what Ray's family and friends were experiencing.

I swallowed, ran over the scenario in my head one last time and nodded. "That would be consistent with a single strike. Then the killer panicked and ran. If it had been a passion killing..."

I trailed off. Dante didn't need that image running through his mind right then -- or ever. I crooked my head toward the double entry doors. "Let’s get out of here."

Rubbing my shoulder, he nodded. "What’s next?"

"I need to fill out an affidavit on the can so Crane can draft a motion for the court to order testing for prints and the chemical source of the residue."

"Do you think they'll grant it?"

"Probably not." Bending down, I packed my camera back into the bag along with all the other equipment still out. "That's why I need to contact a private lab."

Gently grabbing my elbow as I stood, Dante kept me in place. His eyes bored into mine and his grip tightened. "You know he’s innocent, Liv. You know that now."

All I knew for sure was how much Dante needed to hear that I believed in Alex's innocence. I shouldn't tell him. Truth and justice are unpredictable; the law offers no guarantees. I'd never given that comfort to a client and the contract I had signed meant I owed Dante and Alex my professionalism -- no matter how much I wanted to reach up and smooth the furrow from Dante's brow.

Gripping both of my shoulders, he drew me close again. "Liv, you see it?"

"Yeah, Dante, I see it."

 

Chapter Three

 

Out on the stoop, Dante’s mood slid from optimistic to disturbed as he locked the building back up.

"What’s wrong?" I asked.

"The killer was wearing my company jacket -- so who on my crew killed Ray?"

Good question. I opened the folder and read the crime scene inventory. Ray had a company truck that had been parked outside the building. The keys had been found under his body -- had likely been in his hand when the axe blow fell. The police had impounded the truck, either it had been pretty empty or the police hadn’t recorded all the contents. Either way, the scene and truck inventories were missing any reference to a jacket, with or without the Serrano logo on it, or, even more telling, a cell phone.

Nowadays, everyone over the age of twelve has a cell phone. The chance of a vic dying without it on them was slim to none. A missing cell phone invariably meant it had been stolen -- by the killer, a cop, or some witness on the scene -- or there was a second crime scene.

Right now, there was no second crime scene and no indication of there being one. I needed to figure out if someone had taken the phone from Ray after he had died or where it had been misplaced.

I glanced at Dante. "Ray had a jacket, right?"

"Yeah."

Dante was pressed up against me again, trying to read over my shoulder. His breath flowed warmly over my neck. I tried to shrug the sensation away before it could crawl lower and flush my skin. The way my body and emotions were seesawing back and forth in his presence, it was a miracle I had even the smallest portion of Ray's death figured out.

"And a cell phone?" Even knowing the answer, I had to get confirmation.

"Yeah, a Nextel. Company phone for guys calling in sick, vendor deliveries, that kind of thing."

"Neither one is in the inventory. So, Ray came back to the site. He’s there to get the tools or the phone. Maybe he’s wearing the jacket or he forgot that, too."

He probably forgot the jacket. It was unlikely the killer would have peeled the jacket from a dead body. Blood evidence on the floor suggested the body hadn't been disturbed. So Ray had gone searching for the phone and realized he’d left it in his jacket at the site. The phone alone would have been enough to bring him back to the building.

I looked over my shoulder at Dante. He was too close, almost kissing close. I took a step away. "I’ll send Craig round to find out if Ray was wearing the jacket and make sure the cops didn’t just forget to add it to the list…"

Seeing Dante shake his head, I trailed off before I could say anything about the coroner’s inventory.

"Not to Claire," he said and shook his head harder. "You can’t send Craig over to grill her--"

"Craig wouldn’t
grill
Mrs. Epps," I interrupted. I walked to my car, trying to ignore the fact that he followed.

I wasn't going to argue with him about Craig paying a short, respectful visit to the Epps home. But not arguing meant leaving – now -- and not coming back at eight. I had enough information gathered for the day. I would send Craig back tomorrow night. And the next time I saw Dante, I would have a helluva lot more control over my emotions, and my hormones!

"It’s twenty-five minutes from here." He glanced at his watch. "We could go and be back by eight."

"We’re not coming back tonight." I unlocked the driver’s side door, annoyed that his hands rested on the car’s roof. "You’re giving Craig the key and he’s coming back tomorrow."

"Fine, but Ray’s is on the way…"

I stopped listening to him and looked around, realizing for the first time that I didn’t see anything that might be his vehicle. "Where’s your car?"

"I had one of my crew drop me off--"

Damn it! He had stayed behind knowing I would have to give him a ride home. The hell I would! Transportation of a betraying ex-lover wasn't part of the contract. Opening my door, I put my bag in the back seat while I glared at Dante over the roof. "And one of your crew can pick you up."

"It’s getting dark, Liv."

"You’re a big boy," I said, my memory choosing the wrong time to remind me just how very big he could be. Choking on the image, I gestured back at the building. "You can lock yourself inside until they get here."

"I was more worried about you driving in the city at night." He grinned at me and I felt a hot rush of blood color my cheeks. "I know how you get lost at the drop of a hat, Livvy."

Still trying to stare him down, I raised a finger and pointed at him. I wanted to tell him off -- wanted to think of the most cutting thing I could that would put him back in his place. I could. Even if he had dumped me and shown he didn't give a damn what I felt or thought, I could find something that would dig under his skin.

I wanted to, needed it with the same intensity that had left me crazy-over-the-top in love with him so long ago. I shook my head.

"You want to let me in on the conversation?"

Damn, he sounded so sincere. He knew me too well, which made his leaving me so much harder to take. I loved him -- then. After all those childhood years of watching my father marry young couples, I had found Dante, the one man to whom I could stand in front of my father’s congregation and promise to submit. Even now, after more than two decades, I could hear the words in my mind, my father’s rich baritone reading them in rehearsal.

Will you submit to him as the Church submits to Christ…forsaking all others remain united to him alone…

I had made that vow to Dante in my mind, even if I never had a chance to make it in church before daddy and God.

His hand stretched across the roof. Our fingers would have touched if I had only met him half way.

"Liv, I know you’re sick of me today…"

Apparently, I wasn’t sick enough. I should be looking at him in my rear view mirror by now. "I’m not taking you by Claire’s because it’s a bad idea. This isn’t about that…
other thing
."

"You mean my running out two weeks before our wedding? Or is there some other
other thing
?"

He had refused to have this conversation with me oh-so-long ago. I wouldn’t have it with him today. Reaching into my camera bag, I yanked my cell from the side pocket and tossed it in the cup holder.

"Livvy…baby…"

God, he did not just call me that! My head shot up. My heart pounded hard in my chest, pushing the blood up into my face where it seemed determined to stay.

"I love my son too much to regret what I did." Dante paused, his soft expression doing nothing to ease my building pain. "But I will never forgive myself for hurting you."

Slowly, I turned to the side and lowered my body into the driver’s seat. The blood that had felt like it was pooling in my head solidified. All over my body, I began to stiffen. This is what it’s like in the movies, I thought. When people turn to stone, this is what it’s like. And it was like that, most of all, in the center of my chest.

Good
! I slammed the car door shut.
Let that turn to stone, too.

Not that Dante couldn’t break my heart all over again. But he’d have to chip away longer, past the other layers of stone. I felt calm settle over me and I reached down, pushing the button to unlock the passenger side door.

"Olivia--"

Raising a hand, I cut him off. "I understand. No need to explain. You didn’t want him to be born a bastard, too." I glanced sideways at Dante to see if I had managed to scratch his exterior. From the tension around his eyes and mouth, I knew I had. I exhaled, my blood starting to flow again.

"There’s no question you did good by the kid, Dante." I started the engine, put the car in drive. "So will I."

********************

Only, I didn’t. At least not that night. Pulling to a stop in front of Ray Epps' house and seeing his wife and son charging onto the lawn, I knew that I had just fucked up royally.

The neighborhood was at the edge of Masonville's ghetto. The surrounding homes were a mix between those that looked well-cared and those on a quick slide into decay. Ray's place was immaculate. His wife was too -- tall, straight-backed and with every hair in place. His son wore dress pants and a pressed white shirt. As much as they looked like they were holding it together, the combination of their grief and anger was like a beacon -- one that I was about to douse with kerosene.

Dante exited the car before I could put it in park. Looking at him, I knew he wanted to comfort Claire. It was a natural desire. She was his friend’s wife, if not his friend in her own right, and he was certain Alex hadn’t killed Ray. Claire Epps seemed certain that the boy had. She and Dante were at more than an impasse.

For Claire, at least, they were at war.

"Get the hell off my lawn, Dante Serrano!"

"Alex had nothing to do with this--"

The man was an idiot when it came to talking with women today! I rounded the car and stepped between Dante and Claire just in time to catch the hard left-handed slap she intended for Dante.

Staggering back, I bumped into Dante. He grabbed my shoulders, started to move me to the side and out of harm's way. I broke his hold and flung my arms out, forcing him to stay behind me.

Claire, for the moment at least, seemed stunned into silence.

"In the car." I spoke the words in Dante’s direction, my teeth grinding together to hold back the tears. Claire Epps didn’t hit like a girl by any stretch of the imagination. I felt a trickle of fluid down my cheek. I had seen the flash of Claire's diamond wedding ring, the stone turned to the palm side, wink at me right before contact. Hopefully the fluid I could feel was sweat and not blood

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