Yellow Ribbons (12 page)

“No no no!” She beat her fist against his shoulder, realizing her mistake too late.

Lani opened her eyes to an arched eyebrow.

“That’s gonna cost you.” Greg grabbed the glass. “Imagine how frustrated you’ll feel an hour from now when you’re still waiting to come.” He drained the contents and sat on his heels.

“You wouldn’t.” Oh… He would, and she’d love every second.

“Not tonight.” He released her ankles. “But only because I want inside you so bad, I can’t stand it. I want to feel your pussy squeezing the life out of me when you come.”

Drawing her ankles around his waist, Greg stretched atop her. His cock nudged her entrance, but it was the unfettered adoration in his eyes that had Lani close to coming. He smelled of chocolate, wine, and sex. How could she not want a taste?

She pressed her lips to his, testing the way, wanting him so much but unwilling to take so much as a microgram of control from him. Greg groaned and slipped his tongue around hers, his cock deep inside. Neither moved but for those delicious kisses that drifted from one minute to the next. There was no part of either of them
unfilled
. That was especially true of Lani’s heart. She let her fantasy believe the same of Greg.

Finally, he shifted enough to slip his hand between them, his thumb seeking her slippery clit. There was nothing frantic about this. Slow and sweet built them to the edge; raw, hard, and deep tipped them over. Lani locked herself around him, loving that final stab and the force that rattled their bones.

“It has to be a sin to have orgasms this great,” she said as they panted for breath.

Greg chuckled. “If that’s the case, I’d gladly go to hell to have you.”

She almost called him on it. Why ruin great sex with rules, regulations, boundaries, and safe words? “Would you?” she asked instead.

He combed the hair away from her cheek. “I would.” Dark eyes locked on hers. “Gonna safe word me on that too?”

Lani cupped his nape. “No. I feel pretty safe right now.” She butted her forehead to his, closed her eyes, and drank it all in.

Greg fumbled for the beast ringing on his nightstand, cursing duty that required them to keep their phones on and the bastard who’d dared to call them.

Lani groaned and buried her sleep-tousled head under the pillow.

“This better fuckin’ be good.”

“No shit,” she mumbled.

He punched the Talk button and barked out, “Landess.”

“Detective Ron Pattison here.” The full designation struck Greg as odd. Pattison must be verbally flexing his muscles for someone’s benefit on his end of the line. “Sorry to bother you this late at night.”

Greg glanced at the clock. Three. Didn’t anything happen at a decent hour? “I’m not going to lie and say it’s all right. What’s up?” He scrubbed his fingers against his eyes and sat up to keep from falling back to sleep.

Lani shifted with him. “Put it on speaker,” she whispered.

Greg did so, placing the phone between them.

“We’ve found that person of interest. Got her in interview right now. Lance Corporal Christina Owens.”

Fuck
, they mouthed. Another one of their own.

“She won’t speak to anyone but you,” Pattison said.

“I’d think she’d do better with an attorney.”

“She’s a witness, not a suspect at this point, although I did ask her. She refused. The kid’s a mess, hysterical since we brought her in. Keeps insisting on you, only you.”

Greg flopped back and rubbed at the growing ache in his temple. “Have you tried to reach Captain Hollister? I’d think female to female—”

“Only you,” Pattison repeated. “She’s adamant. Beck’s on his way in—”

“You called Beck?”

“We
are
supposed to be working together.” Pattison’s holier-than-thou tone pissed him off.

“And PMO isn’t supposed to be involved at all,” Greg shot back.

Pattison huffed out a sigh. “Look…I haven’t had the luxury of sleep like
some
people. This is our first break. She clearly has information she’ll only share with you. She refused a lawyer. She wants you. I wouldn’t be doing this at all if I weren’t so desperate and fed up with the lack of progress on this case. We’ll be watching and listening to you from the surveillance room. Cut me some slack here. Let’s see if we can’t put these murders to bed. You aren’t
involved
, merely being the conduit we need right now.”

Greg read Lani’s shrug loud and clear—
He has a point. What harm will it cause
? Frankly, Greg wanted an end to all this too.

“I won’t go in without Captain Hollister having my back,” he said. “Call her and get her in.”

“No. Only you,” Pattison said. “She won’t talk if Hollister’s there.”

“Then don’t tell her she’s there.”

“Fine. Then you call her. You coming or not?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.” He disconnected and scooped the phone into his palm as he rolled from bed. “Consider yourself called, Lani.”

“I’m on it.” She moved with as much enthusiasm as he did—none. “I don’t have a uniform with me. I’ll have to go home.”

Fuck, he’d have to shave. “Think it’s wise showing up in uniform?”

“If we don’t, it might look like we’re trying to hide something.”

“If we do, it’ll make it seem like we’re there in an official capacity.”

“True enough. I’ll still have to go home for something more appropriate to wear. Leggings and a sweater won’t cut it.”

“I’ll meet you there then.” He snagged boxer briefs from his dresser drawer and headed for the adjoining bathroom.

Lani followed, pausing in the doorway. “You’ve cultivated a measure of trust with the marines, Greg. Owens is reaching out to you, for whatever reason. There’s no sense resenting it because it’s inconvenient.”

She was right. Still…

“This wasn’t how I’d hoped to start our morning. I’d envisioned hot sex, a steamy shower, and having a leisurely brunch before heading out to the odious task of rooting out cheaters.”

She walked up behind him and slid her hands around his ribs until her palms covered his pecs. “There’s always tonight.” She flashed her tongue over his spine, then plunged her fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear. His penis surged into her grip.

Greg looped his hand over her wrists, torn between pulling her free or shoving her closer. Duty won out. He drew her fingers up for a kiss. “I’m looking forward to every second.”

“Me too.” On tiptoe, she kissed him and then walked out.

When he left the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Lani was gone and the scent of fresh-brewed coffee drifted his way at the same time he heard his phone alert him to a text message.

Bring me a cup
. She signed it with
X
s and
O
s.

He smiled, despite his dour mood.

Brkfst LR
? he texted back.

On me.

Oh, the images that conjured. “I hope to hell you talk fast, Owens.” Deep down, what he really hoped for was the information to give Kenyon, Tipton, and Regina Whittaker justice.

“She looks like shit.” Jordan summed up Christina Owens well.

Owens’s straw-colored hair looked like it hadn’t seen a hairbrush in days—matted in some places, sticking out in others. She’d either worried it into that condition or slept wrong. Greg would bet the former. She’d bitten her nails down to the quick and then some. Her legs hadn’t stopped jiggling in the ten minutes he’d stood with Lani, Pattison, and Jordan in the surveillance room watching her on monitor. Despite the Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, black corduroy pants, and a thermostat set hot as hell, she shivered like a cat shitting peach pits. Her complexion had long since passed pale. She clutched her stomach, rocking to and fro.

“How’d you find her?” Lani sipped her coffee, her gaze focused on the twenty-year-old lance corporal.

She’d chosen brown slacks and loafers with a rust-colored blouse topped off with a matching cardigan. Every strand of her long dark blonde hair was smoothed into a French braid. Greg felt like a slob in comparison, opting for jeans, boots, and a red flannel shirt. He was the scruffy lumberjack and she the silver baron’s daughter. Fighting a smile, Greg tucked that image away for future roleplaying.

“DMV eventually narrowed the license plate of the vehicle on scene as belonging to Staff Sergeant Tipton.” Pattison hoisted his hip to the edge of the gray metal table. “Citizens Patrol found the vehicle at her place. Deputies brought her in and called me. Considering her state of mind, I’m surprised this wasn’t brought to your attention sooner.”

Tension rippled off Lani’s back. “I’m going to presume you aren’t suggesting Master Gunnery Sergeant Landess and I would hide information and simply remind you that MPs have a rotating schedule and this was her regular time off.”

Pattison stuffed his hand in his pocket. “My bad.”

“And for the record, Detective Pattison”—she unleashed her I-am-Marine-Corps-officer tone—“if I were going to hide someone, I could find a much better place than at that individual’s home with the murder victim’s car in the driveway.”

“Duly noted, ma’am.” He pulled out a pair of clippers and snipped at his nails. “My apologies for the insinuation. I’m tired and frustrated. Pissed that the two of you were dragged here in the middle of the night, when all Owens had to do was tell me what she knows. I don’t like playing games.”

Lani tapped her fingernail against the aluminum travel mug. “She’s not playing. She’s scared to death. She made a good call, turning to the person she trusted the most. If Major Kenyon had done that, he might be alive today. I’d like to know why she didn’t step forward sooner.”

Damn fine question.

The door to observation swung open. Juarez walked in. “Heard you got a nibble.”

No one challenged his presence. It was too late—or too early—for crap like that. These were high-profile murders. Everyone would want to know firsthand what had happened. Greg couldn’t fault Juarez for that. Maybe he wasn’t that bad of a detective after all if he cared enough to be here at this hour.

“Damn, she looks all of twelve.” Juarez tsk-tsked. “Sure you got the right person?”

“She’s been bawling for Landess here since deputies picked her up. She sure as hell isn’t the wrong person. I’d like to find out what the fuck she knows, so I can get the hell out of here.” Pattison scored the clippers under his short fingernails, perpetually cleaning what wasn’t there.

“All right.” Greg set his travel mug on the table beside Pattison. “But don’t expect me to trick or trap her. This is all above board, no matter what she has to say.” Which was probably why she’d asked for him in the first place. Greg wouldn’t let her down.

Owens’s head jerked up the second he opened the door. Tears filled her pale blue eyes. She looked like she wanted to jump up and hug him. Oddly, Greg felt the poor little thing could do with a hug right about now. Protocol decreed otherwise.

“You came.” Her chin quivered. “I knew you would. You’d never let any of us down.”

A hard image to live up to. He sat across the table from her and folded his hands before him. “I’m not going to lie to you, Lance Corporal. Captain Hollister, Special Agent Beck, and Detectives Pattison and Juarez are watching the conversation on monitor. It’s not being recorded.”

She pulled her sleeves over her gnawed fingers. “I only wanted you.”

“You’ve got me. It’s a courtesy the sheriff’s office doesn’t allow just anyone. Count yourself lucky our working relationship with them gives you this.”

“You’ll do the right thing?”

Greg frowned. What did she mean by that? How could he have any control here? “I don’t understand.”

She leaned in, her voice low. “I don’t trust officers. They cover each other’s ass all the time. Roger said we could trust you when the time was right.”

Defending Lani wasn’t going to change her mind. All Greg could do was move things forward. “Tell me what’s going on, Lance Corporal.”

She splayed her gnawed fingers on the table. “I don’t know where to start. I saw Major Kenyon leaving that woman’s house last night. He was covered in blood.
Covered
.”

Why didn’t she call the police? Or check on the welfare of those inside? She’d left the children alone? Greg tried not to corner her or judge…or interrogate. It wasn’t easy.

“Why were you there?” A safe question, one that might give them a little forward momentum.

A deep red flush crawled over her pale skin from the neck up. “Roger was going to watch her kids while I took her to…to get an abortion. I waited in the car. God…” She buried her face in her hands. “We had to wait for the kids to go to sleep. It felt like forever. I sat there reading until it got too dark. I realized it’d been a while. Then I saw him come out, all bloody, barefoot, holding his sneakers. I saw him edge behind the bushes next to the house. I freaked and got the hell out of there. I was scared to death he’d seen me.”

“It was dark. Are you sure it was Major Kenyon?”

She hesitated long enough to let Greg know she wasn’t sure, but then nodded anyway.

“Why didn’t you tell someone?”

“Who’d believe me?” She smeared tears into her hairline. The redness receded to paler than pale. “I knew I should have checked to see if anyone was alive. But all that blood… I couldn’t think straight. He’s my boss. If he knew I was there, he’d know I had evidence that could ruin his career and send him to jail. How did I know he wouldn’t be coming after me next?”

“Besides seeing him leave a murder scene, what kind of evidence?” Greg wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. The dots were connecting on their own.

“There was the drinking, for one. Roger told me he’d started doing a little checking on his own, since it was clear Captain Hollister wasn’t going to do anything. The major seemed awfully interested in Regina Whittaker. Roger buddied up to her at the gym. Regina was upset and crying, told him she was pregnant and begged him for help.”

“And Staff Sergeant Tipton told you all this because…?”

Owens sniffed. “We were sleeping together.”

Of course you were.