Читать книгу Kissing the Key Witness - Jenna Ryan - Страница 11
Chapter Four
ОглавлениеThe sky over the ocean was on fire. Maya wanted to soak up the last of the summer rays, but there was little chance of that, with Jamie badgering her at full volume.
After five nonstop minutes, she simply reached out and set a hand across her friend’s mouth. “Enough, okay? I appreciate the gesture, Jamie, but Tal’s on his way over. That’ll make three cops in the immediate area.”
Jamie yanked Maya’s hand away. “We’re sitting on your balcony, facing a courtyard so much like the one in that movie about the photographer with the broken leg that it gives me the heebie-jeebies. How can you be flip?”
“I’m not being flip. And it was Rear Window.”
“Do I care about titles?” Jamie spread her fingers. “I see a flock of weirdos down there and a window directly across from yours, with the shades drawn.”
“That’s Mr. Ruiz’s place. He’s—”
“Busy hacking up his wife’s body? Phoning his female coconspirator? Polishing up his escape plan?”
Maya shot her an exasperated look. “Have you been stealing medication from the hospital? Mr. Ruiz is a night watchman at a large office complex. He sleeps during the day. See that big orange ball over there?” She pointed with her pencil. “That’s the sun. Work all night, sleep all day.”
“Maya, you were attacked early this morning in a public parking lot.”
“I know. I was there. Do you want a glass of lemonade?”
“I’d rather have rum.”
“Are you driving?”
“Knock-knock. I brought your car back. I’ll cab it home.”
Maya sat back. If there was a mental picture she didn’t need to draw right then, it involved taxis and their drivers. In this case, a female driver, murdered because she’d stopped to help a not-quite-dead man who’d pissed off his boss in a big and apparently fatal way.
Setting her sketchbook aside, she went to stand at the balcony rail.
“There were no palm trees in Rear Window,” she said over her shoulder. “It was also set in New York.”
Jamie huffed out a breath. “I get your point. This isn’t a movie. It’s real life. I still think you could give me a hint about what’s going on.”
“Are you kidding? A hint’s all I’ve been given so far.”
“Sex him.”
A laugh bubbled up. “Excuse me?”
“Use your body, Maya, your wiles, your brain if you have to, but get answers.”
“All very complimentary in its own warped way, but I’m a doctor, and Tal’s a cop. We’re not john and under-cover hooker here.”
“So you’re not curious?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but…Oh, crap, I give up. You’ll tell me what you want to when you want to. Just please tell me you’re still good to go for the game tomorrow. You’re the best setter I’ve got.”
Turning, Maya bumped a hip against the iron railing. “I’ll be there, Coach Hazell. Might be bringing a few official friends, but I won’t let you down.”
“I’ll settle for that.” Jamie craned her neck sideways. “Whose face are you drawing? It looks like your hot lieutenant’s.”
“You have a good memory to go with your nursing skills.” Maya lifted her own face to the setting sun. “Tal will be here any minute.”
“My cue to exit stage right. Look, don’t limit yourself, okay? You’ve got the bod. Use it. Knowledge is power. You can’t trust other people to keep you safe. The best protection comes from within. Not that there are any real guarantees…about anything or anyone.”
Maya heard the zip of Jamie’s shoulder bag, saw something glint in her peripheral vision. When she looked back, her friend was smiling. Over the top of the gun she’d just removed from her bag.
TAL’S POLICE RADIO GAVE a static-filled squawk. He reached down to engage.
“Busy here, Carlisle.”
“Aware of that, Talbot.” The female dispatcher matched his irritable tone. “Captain thought you’d like to know that a patrol found Tyler’s Mustang outside a waterfront warehouse. The Ricolini Brothers warehouse, to be exact. It’s on its way to be impounded.”
“Tell the tow guys that if they scratch it, they’ll want to avoid me for a few months.”
“It’s only a car, for Chrissake.”
“A classic car. Anything in the warehouse?”
“Yeah. Blood.”
“Adam’s?”
“That’s the consensus. We’ll know soon enough. I’ve got you en route to Dr. Maya Santino’s. Captain wants you to escort her to the station ASAP.”
“When I can.”
He switched off, worked his way through a clogged intersection.
He kept seeing Maya’s face, couldn’t get it out of his head. Should he feel guilty about that? Probably not. Should he worry about it? Absolutely.
Because any objection he raised was merely a front for the real reason he’d kept his distance all these years.
In the few hours of sleep he’d managed to catch earlier today, that reason had come back in an all-too-familiar rush of twisted images and distorted memories. Of his mother and his father, of shouting matches and tears, of objects being hurled, of doors being slammed.
Near the end, the doors gave a metallic clang, and the shouts gave way to a squeal of tires on rain-soaked pavement.
It was the same nightmare, always the same. Windshield wipers slapping louder and louder. His mother’s voice rising from a whisper to a cry as she reminded him that he’d only gotten half his genes from her. As she dragged him into the light and showed him the bruises…
Swearing, Tal shoved it away, concentrated on not killing anyone while he made a sharp left. Yes, Adam had been his friend, and, yes, there’d been problems between them. But guilt and friendship were merely excuses.
It was the bruises that mattered.
JAMIE HELD TIGHT TO THE gun, and to her conviction.
“Take it, Maya. It’s old, not much, hardly more than a prop, actually, but no creep who jumps you in the dark will know that.”
“Jamie, I’ve only been jumped by one creep in twenty-nine years.” Unless you counted her cousin Diego, who’d leapfrogged over her during a treasure hunt at his ninth birthday party. “I have cops watching me, I know self-defense and I don’t freak easily.”
“A little extra protection can’t hurt.’
“No guns, Jamie.”
Her friend blew out a breath. “Your daddy must have been a mule.”
Maya took the gun, unzipped Jamie’s bag and dropped it inside. “I’m fine with firearms in their place. That place just isn’t with me.”
“Some kind of stinging spray then. Will you at least carry that?”
“Mommies everywhere,” Maya murmured.
“What can I say?” Jamie hoisted her bag. “We worry.”
Maya walked her through the living room. “Speaking of worry, how’s your daughter?”
“She wants to be called Mask. Tell you anything?”
Maya told herself not to laugh. “Is there a reason?”
“Not that I’ve heard. Her therapist thinks I should enroll her in a twenty-four-week program. Great idea, until you look at the price tag. I reminded him that I’m a nurse, not a pro athlete.”
“Listen, Jamie. I don’t have kids, but I do have a little extra money. I could—”
Jamie cut her off sharply. “I don’t borrow from friends. It fuddles things up.” At a knock on the door, Maya sighed, checked the viewer, then opened to Tal. Before she could speak, her friend gave a long whistle.
“Wow. You really are a hottie, aren’t you, Lieutenant? Tall, dark and totally bootylicious.”
Maya hooked her fingers in Jamie’s waistband. “Roll up your tongue, Nurse Hazell, and say goodbye to the nice lieutenant.”
Jamie grimaced. “You really know how to butcher a moment, don’t you? Keep her safe, Lieutenant Talbot. Good E.R. doctors are hard to come by.”
Tal stood aside so she could make her exit, but remained on the threshold, with his shoulder resting on the door frame. “You look refreshed, Dr. Santino.”
“You don’t. Showered and changed, yes. Like a man who got more than three hours of sleep, no.”
“Two, but I’ll make up for it.” He stepped inside, looked around. “Tell me about your dream.”
She leaned against the closed door. “It wasn’t a dream so much as a flash of memory. I went outside to see how many patients still needed attention and saw them. Someone was shaking Adam. He stopped when he saw me and took off. There were a lot of shadows, Tal, and I was more concerned about Adam than the person with him.”
“But you saw his face.”
“Enough to sketch it. My mother was a painter. I didn’t inherit her talent, but I can draw passable features.” Including his, she reflected, far more often than she should. “My sketchbook’s on the balcony.”
She knew he was watching her. She felt his eyes on her back, on her bare arms and legs, on the ponytail, which she wore to combat the heat.
Without turning, she called back, “Stop looking at my butt, Tal. You’re—” she opted for one of Jamie’s words and a slow smile “—fuddling me.”
“No comment,” he murmured and unsnapped his shoulder holster.
When she faced him again, she took in his long dark hair; his jeans, which hugged in all the right places; and boots that had seen better days.
So who was looking now?
Retrieving her sketchbook, Maya flipped to the last page. Tal was so close on her heels, she would have crashed into him if she’d taken a single step back.
“Guess we’re staying out here.” She slapped the sketchbook against his chest before he could take the step she hadn’t. “I’m not ready for you, Tal. Not even close to ready.”
He held her in place with his eyes. It was a gift he’d always possessed and, in its own way, a powerful weapon where females were concerned, though she’d seen him stare down more than a few men.
In spite of herself, she couldn’t stop a laugh from climbing into her throat. “God, but you’re making this hard.”
“Why the defensive posture, Doc?” The ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he ran a light hand along her arm. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
She kept her hand on his chest. “I never wished anything bad for Adam.”
“I never thought you did. Neither did he.”
“I loved him. I think. In a college-student-meets-cop sort of way.” Something uncoiled inside her with the admission. “Well, that’s weird. I tell you something I should feel bad about, and I feel better instead.”
“We’re complex creatures, Maya.”
“You and me in particular, or humans in general?”
“Six of one.”
Her heart beat harder, louder, faster the longer he stared. She couldn’t drag her eyes from his mouth. More than anything right then, she wanted that mouth on hers. Out of nowhere it occurred to her that she was arching backward, over the rail, a dangerous position in more ways than one. Still, what was life without a little danger?
He wrapped his fingers around her nape. “Don’t worry, Doc. I won’t let you fall.”
Then he covered her mouth with his, and sent every emotion inside her over the edge.
THE SKETCHBOOK LANDED on the floor of the balcony, between them. Tal heard the thud as he held her face between his fingers and deepened the kiss.
He shouldn’t have done it. Signals flashed in his head. Back off. Fast. Do it. The warnings were similar to the ones Adam had issued to every man who’d seen her. To every man, like Tal, who’d wanted her.
He tasted her now with his tongue, thought of a rare and potent wine. The first sip drew him in. It deepened the hunger, which had been there since they’d met, fueled his desire and seduced him in a way even strong friendship couldn’t offset.
It surprised him a little that she kissed him back. He’d expected her to push him away, to put him off and tell him it couldn’t happen. Instead, her fingers tangled in his hair and held.
He angled his head in response, explored her mouth more thoroughly. Oh, yeah, definitely wine. Wild, forbidden, too tempting to resist. And Tal could resist a lot.
Only Maya had ever gotten past his formidable guard. Only Maya had the power to scare the living hell out of him.
Reason enough to stop kissing her, to back off and call it a mistake.
She slid her hands to his waist and drew his lower lip into her mouth before she rested her forehead against his.
The taste of her lingered. It took a huge effort to wrap his fingers around her upper arms, shield his expression and look into her eyes.
“You feel like you’re trespassing, don’t you?”
Her question surprised him. “Do I?”
“I think so. And you would have been once. But not now. Not for a very long time.”
“So why did you stop?”
She ran her finger over his lower lip, replaced it with her mouth. When she licked him, his brain, already overheated, turned to mush. “Pausing isn’t stopping.”
“Maya…”
The argument died. Later, when he was alone and half-sane, he’d be all over it, but for now, he simply wanted to cage his conscience and let the fantasy ride.
She kissed him this time, used her teeth, her lips, her tongue.
Greed set in, chased by hunger. He’d been hard before he touched her, and now she was touching him, running her hands over his jeans, frying every thought in his brain.
Blood pounded through him like a drum. He dragged her closer, heard her purr, felt her hips rub against him.
He’d have breathed if he could, but something other than air had gotten into his lungs. Something that punched through the snapping threads of his control.
Tal had no idea where things might have gone from there. However, drugged or not, he recognized the blast below them in an instant.
Maya tore her mouth free, whipped her eyes down. “Was that…?”
“Yeah, it was.” Shoving her behind him, Tal grabbed the backup from his waistband.
And searched the courtyard for the person who’d fired the gun.
“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I swear. I took the safety off, like so. But there was a pain in my wrist. Then, oh no, the gun, it dropped, and kaboom. It went off.”
Maya’s neighbor, the man with the drawn shades, appealed primarily to her, although his nervous eyes kept flitting to Tal.
“Please, Dr. Santino.” Carl Ruiz adopted an attitude of prayer. “Tell the officer I didn’t mean to do it.”
“It’s all right, Carl.” Maya attempted to calm him. “Lieutenant Talbot knows you work as a security guard.”
“For six months,” the man put in. “I hit my hand on the counter yesterday and hurt the bone. I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble….”
Thirty minutes and several reassurances later, Maya and Tal left the man’s apartment and made their way back to the courtyard.
The people who’d reacted to the gunshot had returned to their tasks and chores, leaving the area empty.
Maya turned a curious half circle as she walked. “Where are my bodyguards? Please say they’re not skulking around Mr. Ruiz’s place, because I promise you, that man is not on Orlando Perine’s payroll.”