Sweet Arrest

Sweet Arrest Copyright © November 2008, Jordyn Tracey Cover art by Aidan Books © November 2008 This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. Aidan Books USA www.aidanbooks.com

Chapter One A bakery was the last establishment she should own. A’isha glowered at her panty line, clearly visible through her jogging pants. A thong might have worked out better, except she had no wish to give herself a wedgie and her giggly butt needed the extra covering to hide the dimples. She slapped the offending round cheeks and drug in a resigned breath. The decision had been made months ago. With her new jogging outfit, designed in her favorite color— blue—she had no excuse not to get out on the trail through the park. Just after sunrise had to be early enough for no witnesses to her first lengthy exercise in three years. Popping a stick of sugarless gum in her mouth, she tucked her phone in her pocket and bound down the stairs of her family home. On the front steps of the row house, she placed her head phones on her head and set out. Twenty minutes into her walk-ten minutes, jog-for two, she was sweating, and her thigh muscles burned. At a curve in the trail, with a large bush obstructing the path ahead, she stopped. Her cell phone buzzed against her hip, and the vibration felt pretty good right about now. If only it were all over her stiff, painful muscles. She flipped the phone open and bent to remove her shoe lace from inside her sneaker. “Hello?” The hard body slammed into her, and her phone went flying. A’isha landed on her back with a man pinning her to the ground. She screamed, fighting for him to release her. “Hey, easy. I’m not the one who was bent in the middle of a blind spot.” His deep voice and bright blue eyes sent chills along her arms. “Now, if you’ll give me a sec I can haul myself and you up. Okay? Please, don’t scratch my eyes out.” His charming smile disarmed her. “Um, yes, of course. Sorry.” His tanned skin glistened from his run. His tussled brown curls were in wet ringlets on his forehead. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt and biker shorts. When he hefted his body up off her, she spotted the bulge at his crotch and blushed. He followed her line of vision, knowing what she was looking at, and he winked. A’isha scooted away from him. He stood, reached down, and hooked his hands beneath her arms to hoist her to her feet. “There you go. Are you okay? No permanent damage?” “No, thank you. I-I have to go.” Not wanting him to see her ass, she offered a half smile and faced him while she shuffled sideways pretending such a move was natural. The amusement in his eyes told her he wasn’t fooled, and probably that he thought she was an idiot.

When Mr. Gorgeous was out of sight, A’isha straightened her walk, the jog dismissed. “How embarrassing.” He was probably bent over laughing his head off at her antics. She grunted, stomping along the path. “Excuse me.” She stopped. Too late to turn now. She was facing away from him. On a tormented pivot, she glanced up to find his gaze where she least welcomed it. Her panties had ridden up despite being granny style, and her pants were too tight. “Yes?” When he didn’t look up, she cleared her throat. “Oh, yeah.” He held up her cell phone. “You forgot this in the grass. It must have gone flying when we bumped, um...?” “A’isha.” He nodded. “Pretty. Very pretty.” To her surprise, he wasn’t commenting on her name. The man must have had a screw shaken loose in the fall. “I’m Connor. Nice to meet you.” Sparks ignited at his touch. His palm was rough but warm, engulfing hers. Their gazes locked. The park came to life around them—birds chirped, a dog barked, and someone’s shoes slapped against the concrete. “You know, I—” “I have to go—” She was going to run away again, from a man, from an awkward situation, but she couldn’t help herself. He was too sexy anyway. A man with a face like that and a body to match, wouldn’t look at her twice. Except to return her cell phone. “Thank you. I have to go.” She spun away, and this time jogged in the opposite direction than what she intended. Her car was parked at the south end of the park. She would have to circle around a least a mile to avoid him and get back. If her thighs had to spontaneously combust, oh well. **** By the time she reached the bakery, A’isha realized Cammie had not opened when she was supposed to, and she hadn’t started the donuts that needed to be fresh that morning. Groaning, she let herself in and flipped the card to open on the door. Mr. Stanton, the old man who lived at the end of the block would be in less than an hour expecting his usual to be ready.

A’isha flipped on all the lights, shoveled up the mail from the day before—delivered late—and scanned it between setting the coffee pot and pretending she was not on the edge of bankruptcy. “Bills and credit card applications. Just once, I’d like to see a check in here!” She threw the waste of good trees on the counter and slipped into her apron. Next, she washed her hands with the thoroughness a surgeon could admire then readied her stove and ingredients for the donuts. A flick of the switch on the radio to soft relaxing music and the scent of coffee in the air. That’s how she liked it, would always start her day. The thought occurred to her that Cammie had been calling on her cell when she stopped on the walk. Yet, if she was calling out, it was still too late for A’isha to do something about it. “Spilled milk. Spilled milk.” She had many more issues to cry over than Cammie being late or Mr. Stanton not getting his breakfast. The bell over the door jingled, and Mr. Stanton’s stooped figure shuffled in. His pleasure but toothy grin brightened her day a little. “Morning, A’isha, how is my beautiful flower?” “Good morning, Mr. Stanton. The usual?” She poured his coffee at the counter. Every day for two years they used the same greeting, and every day for twenty he had given the same compliment to her mother. Clearing her throat, she turned away to hide the mist in her eyes. Her mother was gone, but never forgotten. Purely Sweets had been her mother’s baby. Now it was hers, and it tore her insides apart knowing she was losing it. “Yes, the usual, A’isha.” He glanced around. “Where’s that apprentice of yours, in the back?” “Nope, missing in action.” She fished her cell from her bag. Sure enough, the call had come from Cammie. She sighed and put it back, not feeling like hearing the excuse this time. For a woman who claimed she wanted to be a pastry chef, she sure didn’t take it seriously. A’isha didn’t have the luxury of being picky though, having no formal training beyond her mother. Purely Sweets was small time. “I have to sneak in the back, if you don’t mind, Mr. Stanton. Just help yourself to more of those donuts.” He waved a wrinkly, liver-spotted hand. “Go on, dear, I will keep an eye on things.” Blowing him a kiss, she turned and headed into the kitchen. She loved this part of her business, just ignoring the world and baking. Kneading dough, mixing ingredients, even as simple as beating eggs. The therapy in baking a banana bread was heavenly. At that time of the morning, for no reason, she was in the mood to make some Mississippi mud but had to settle for blackberry muffins. Flour, eggs, milk and sugar all on the table, she popped open the industrial sized refrigerator she adored and brought out her blackberries. The blackberry muffins were a mainstay, the cheap, warm pastry that

her customers would snatch up by the dozens, feeling like they weren’t being completely bad. She chuckled thinking of it. Later, those same conscientious women and some men would sneak back in to grab a slice or two of her apple pie with all-butter crust. A grunt escaped her. If she developed more low fat or low sugar recipes, maybe her rear wouldn’t be so damn big. Thinking of her rear brought thoughts of Connor to mind. Oh he was hot. She had dated a white man a few years ago, but it had never gotten to anything physical. “But Connor...Damn, that package was huge,” she mused. The door burst open. “A’isha, I’m so sorry for being late!” Cammie, with red hair flying every which way, and clothes rumpled as usual, stood unbuttoning layers of clothing. The woman could withstand high temperatures, and unlike anyone else, buried herself in warm clothing even in summer. A’isha imagined she wouldn’t get warm enough now that the season was changing. “I called. Did you get my message?” A’isha didn’t address the question. “You do realize how hard it’s been lately, Cammie? I can’t afford to lose one single order. Not one! And you decide for whatever reason to not open up on time, and to not tell me early enough for me to get in here and do it myself?” While she shifted out of her extra clothing, Cammie plodded over to the small TV mounted on the kitchen wall and flipped it on. A’isha cringed. The jarring voice of the newscaster invaded her sanctuary. “...police are looking for Selena Goode who was last seen...” “I’m sorry, A’isha.” Cammie caught her attention. “I had an appointment. It couldn’t be avoided. I will stay late and prepare everything for tomorrow. And I’ll come in early the rest of the week, give you a break. How’s that?” Her puppy dog eyes were tempting. Slapping her hands on her hips, A’isha frowned. “Fine. But don’t let me down, Cammie. My mom gave you a chance when you begged for it. You had no experience and no training. I kept you on, because you have real talent and a love of food like I do.” Just not the weight to go with it. The flash of resentment was not missed. “Thanks, A’isha. I won’t let you down. I promise. Things are looking up for me anyway.” “What do you mean?” “Oh nothing.” She shuffled out to the front at the sound of the bell. A’isha rolled her eyes. That woman would be the death of her. She hadn’t been exaggerating. Cammie could bake, and she sometimes sprung out recipes for treats that had the customers smacking their lips for more. A’isha had done all she could not to demand Cammie stop for the jealousy burning in her heart. After all, the treats brought in extra money, and that meant more to pay bills. Yet, lately, Cammie couldn’t be bothered to do anything beyond what was assigned to her.

The phone rang. A’isha sighed and picked it up, forcing a smile. “Purely Sweets. This is A’isha. How can I help you?” “Ms. Greene, this is Tamara Lincoln at Town Bank.” A’isha’s heart rate kicked up a few notches. “Yes?” “I need you to come in to talk about your mortgage payment. I understand your difficulties, but we can only go so far on good faith,” the woman explained. “How does tomorrow at three sound?” Like it doesn’t make any difference, because I don’t have any money. She banged on the counter with her knuckles. “Oh someone’s at the door, a delivery. Can I call you back and confirm? Thanks, Ms Lincoln.” She slammed the phone down with too much force. “What am I going to do?” She stood there, smelling her precious muffins burning, with tears in her eyes. **** A’isha forced herself to take each step after she had struggled from the car. Another morning of jogging, with no incidents this time. Her muscles cussed her out for what she had done to them. “It’s for your own good,” she grumbled, knowing damn well she wouldn’t keep this up if it didn’t get a little easier. Approaching the shop, she noted the lights still off and the blinds down. “I’m going to come in every day this week,” she mimicked Cammie. “I’ve been too lenient on her! Ma had a better handle.” Her shoulders slumped. Her mother had a better handle on everything, including the finances. If she lost this bakery... The bell didn’t jingle when she opened the door. A’isha glanced up to find it missing, but the hook it had hung from for years was still there. She shut the door and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. “No, please not the electricity.” Searching her memory, she tried to recall whether she had sent the check off to the electric company. She had. Surely it hadn’t bounced. Not that one at least. With her hands outstretched, she shuffled in the direction of the kitchen. The sun hadn’t come up yet, and she recalled that she had taken the risk of jogging with only the street lights to illuminate her path—unsafe but necessary. Her foot bumped something, and when she tried to step sideways thinking Cammie had set a delivery box in the way, her foot slipped. Cursing her assistant for not cleaning up the mess she made, A’isha slammed down to the floor, banging her knee but cushioned by...a body?

She screamed. Too late, her fingers slipped into the same mess her foot had. Now she knew what it was. The coppery scent could not be mistaken. Blood. Nausea threatened. Just short of throwing a soiled hand over her mouth, she stopped and fought to get to her feet. Grasping a stool, she clamored around the counter and over to where the phone had been the night before. Of course, it wasn’t there. Her legs were so shaky, it took a while to cross the narrow space between where she stood and the kitchen. At the toss of the switch just inside the doorway, the store brightened. Thankfully, the counter blocked her from seeing who was lying dead on her floor, but she did see the pool of blood thickening. In a daze, she turned her head to the wall where she had grasped her way to the kitchen door. A bloody print was smeared there. Her print. Darkness swirled, and her forehead knocked against the wall as she sank in slow motion. Someone banged on the door. An authoritative voice called, “Open up. Police.” Before she could register how they knew without her calling, the officer outside the door tried the lock. She had a moment to consider if it was really the killer back to add her death to his crimes. But the man holding the badge and brandishing a gun was not the bad guy. He was Connor, the sexy man from the park.

Chapter Two Connor froze in the doorway. When he had gotten the anonymous call about hearing screams for help in the bakery on Curzon Avenue, he didn’t know what he would find. He did not expect to find the body of a young woman with her throat slashed nor the very beautiful, very sexy woman he had landed on top of in the park the other day. For all intents and purposes, she looked guilty, covered in what he guessed was the victim’s blood. But something in him wanted to believe she was pale and crying not from remorse at what she had done, but from the horror of what someone else had done and left for her to find. He stepped farther inside, his partner following with a curse falling from his lips. Right away, Carl called it in. Connor gestured to her. “Ms....” He pretended not to remember her first name, but he did. A’isha. As sweet as she had looked in her tight jogging outfit. Damn, he loved a woman with extra softness to her curves. The moment his body had connected with hers, he grew hard. He pushed those thoughts from his mind. He had work to do. “Can you come over here please?” He didn’t holster his weapon. “Are you alone?” She nodded. He knew she was taller, so he thought she had been about to faint. Her soft brown skin seemed paler, and tears coated her cheeks. “Y-Yes, I guess,” she whispered. He clenched his jaw. “Carl, check it out.” As his partner disappeared in the back, Connor carefully picked his way around the body, trying to keep his contamination of the crime scene to a minimum. But A’isha would never have made it to him without assistance. He gently took he arm. “Come with me outside where we can talk.” She sobbed. “Out there? They’ll see me like this. I can’t.” “Then come with me over to that corner there.” He nodded with his head in the direction farthest from the body, where he could block her view of it. “Everything will be okay. Just come with me.” Why did he say it like that? “Come with you? I’m being arrested? I didn’t do it!” she screeched, setting his ears to ringing. She wiggled past him, her ass rubbing against his thigh. Connor bit down on an expletive when she jetted for the door. He put his gun away and took off after her. The woman could move in a panic. Half way down the block, he caught up with her and yanked her back into his arms. “A’isha, you need to calm down. I can’t help you if you don’t.” She continued to fight, clawing his arms with her nails. He growled, pinned her hands to her sides and shouted. “Stop it! I’m not going to hurt you! I’m not arresting you either...at this time.”

Her shoulders shook. He spun her in his arms to face him, and those full lips looked ripe for kissing just inches away from his. She fit in his hold like no woman had. When he would have lost himself in a fantasy of kissing her, the stains on her clothes snapped him out of it. He stepped back, but watched her. “You’re not going to run anymore, are you?” He narrowed a suspicious glare on her. She shook her head but didn’t speak. The tremors continued, making her look like she was having mini-seizures. He hated himself for wanting nothing more than to comfort her. Get a grip, Connor. You don’t know this woman. She could have murdered that young woman. He tugged his notebook from his pocket. “Now, do you know who the victim is back there in the bakery?” Again, she nodded. “I need you to speak to me, A’isha. If we’re going to find out what happened, I need the facts. All of them. She wrung her hands and glanced around. People had begun to arrive to open their businesses in the block, but stayed in their doorways when they spotted the police cars blocking the street. Connor sighed and flipped his book closed. He would get nowhere here. He took her arm in a gentle grasp. “A’isha, I’m going to put you in my car—” She shrieked. “—and take you home. I’ll question you there, but I don’t want you to try to run again. You’re not under arrest. Do you understand?” In his line of work, he had come across many people, male and female, who were so upset at seeing violent death, they went into shock and had a hard time understanding simple statements. Even while A’isha exhibited the symptoms, he hoped she wasn’t too far gone to hear him. He needed to get her story before the details began to fade. “Y-Yes, I understand.” Irrelevantly, he wondered if she remembered him or if under normal circumstances she would date a white man. Shaking himself to focus on the task at hand, he moved her in the direction of his unmarked car. After slipping her inside, he returned to the scene, Carl approaching with a plastic bag in hand. “Murder weapon?” Connor inquired. Carl held up the bag. “Ever seen a pocket knife with a pink handle? Not a giveaway at all.”

“Shit.” Connor took the bag and examined the contents, careful not the rub across the surface, possibly marring fingerprints. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Did you really do this, A’isha? Carl squatted beside the now covered body and opened his notebook. “The vic is Cammie Clark. She worked as the baker’s assistant. A’isha Greene is the baker. Testing will show, but it looks like Ms. Clark was killed with that knife here in the store sometime before five. Check this out.” He pulled the covering down. Connor trusted his team and knew the CSI techs had already taken a million photos in the time it had taken him to chase down A’isha and calm her enough to wait for him in his car. Thinking of her, he decided he had better wrap this up before she lost patience and bolted. He did not need another fiasco like what had happened four months ago. “Whatcha got?” he asked Carl. His partner pointed with his pen. “See here? Footprints, small. I’d say what, size six, six and a half? And over here, she rests her hands there. It looks bad for Ms. Greene. All we need now is a motive to bring her in.” “Fuck!” Carl glanced at him curiously. Connor saw the wheels turning in his head as he wondered if the rumors had been true. Connor had a fetish for women who killed. For fuck’s sake, one incident—a lie—and his reputation had been called into question. He would go by the book, keep A’isha at a distance and do his job. That was it. He grumbled as he stood and moved toward the door. The first thing he needed to do was start thinking of her as Ms. Greene. Outside on the street, he hailed a tech and had the man follow him to his car. With trepidation, he opened the passenger side door. “Ms. Greene, I’m sorry, but I’m going to need you to take off your shoes and hand them to this man.” Confusion clouded her beautiful face, but she obeyed. The tech caught the shoes in an oversized baggie, zipped it, added a note and strode away. After Connor had slammed the door, climbed in on the driver side and pulled away from the curb, he realized he had already broken protocol. He should not be taking her home. **** Pulling up to A’isha’s house, Connor lectured himself. Get in, question her and get out. His train of thought zigzagged the second she stepped out of the car, and he locked onto her ass. He liked to think he was not normally led around by his dick, but not having had a woman in almost a year since his last ugly breakup, and the jarring attraction he felt for A’isha was screwing with his head.

He suppressed amusement when she held her arms out to the side, hands turned upward while she tiptoed up to her front door. Waiting for her to search out her keys from the expansive red leather bag she carried, he became aware that someone was watching them. With a deliberate movement, he lifted a hand to his hair, shielding the direction of his eyes with his palm. A man leaned a shoulder on a streetlight not far away. “Hey, A’isha, baby. What’s up?” She jumped. Connor would have approached the guy except she held a hand in front of him. The tremors were no longer visible, and she seemed less pale. “Just a neighbor,” she told him. “Hey, John.” “I thought you were going to give me a try after that last guy. Now you got you a white boy? What’s up with that?” He shouldn’t be, but Connor was ready to defend her against a man who thought there was nothing wrong with standing in a line to have a shot at her body, but she didn’t give him the chance to say anything. “Please, I don’t want him or anyone around here to know.” Fresh tears wet her lovely cheeks. “Silly, right? Especially when in the next few minutes, you could determine to arrest me, and I come right back out of my house in handcuffs.” “Then if I do, I won’t put them on you. We’ll just leave together as we arrived.” Strike two, he complained silently. Not cuffing her was not following protocol. At this rate, he would be out of a job before the end of the week. Women never got to him while he worked, even the sexy ones like A’isha. Inside her house, his trained observation skills snapped on the second he passed the threshold. While A’isha informed him she would locate another pair of shoes, he took in the dated furniture in her living room and the family photos on the walls dating back to black and whites of folks in fashions from the fifties. If he had to guess, he would say this was her family home. He wondered if her parents were still around or if she had any siblings. He himself had one sister who barely bothered to remember his number these days. An hour in A’isha’s presence, and he realized just how much his life sucked. She returned wearing jeans, a tee and sneakers. At her invite, they sat in the living room on a plastic covered couch. She blushed, wringing her hands. “Sorry, I meant to take that off, but I guess I feel a little scared to do it.” At his raised brows, she continued. “My mother was forever fussing at me to stay off of it, because I liked to put sticks in my pockets as a child.”

Disappointed and relieved at the same time, he came to the conclusion that she wasn’t all there. “Sticks?” She chuckled then banged a hand over her mouth. He thought she might have injured herself, but made no comment. “At the time, I wanted to be a gardener—to her horror— and I liked to clear away dead leaves and sticks from the yard out back. She did enjoy the weeding, but not that I would stuff the sticks in my pockets rather than toss them out. I can’t figure out why I did that.” Her eyes were dazed remembering. “My brother just thought I was crazy, like you do.” Coughing noisily, he put a hand to his lips. “I don’t think you’re crazy.” Her grin spread wide and brightened her eyes. He lost focus. Reaching out without thinking, he took a lock of her brownish black hair between his fingers. Silky and smooth, it made him want to stroke deeper and pull her closer to— He dropped his hand. “So, you have a brother. Where is he?” Sadness filled her eyes. “Iraq. My parents are gone, and Andre is the only close family I have left. We have cousins, aunts, and uncles, but we weren’t close. My parents never went into detail about why.” She shrugged. “Andre and I developed a sort of resentment about it over the years. We haven’t tried to mend the rift.” “Ms. Greene, can you tell me—” “You called me A’isha before. You remembered me from the park.” She offered a shy smile that had him growing hard of all things. Shifting the position of the notebook was necessary to cover the tent in his pants. “Uh, yes. I tend to remember details.” Her face fell. “Oh, I thought... Never mind. You can call me A’isha, if you’d like.” Suspicion rose in him. Was she playing him for a fool like that previous suspect? He had to admit pouting lips and big eyes did something to him. But A’isha went beyond that. Her entire body called to him, and he had to fight not to stare at her heavy breasts, especially since her nipples were defined through the thin fabric of her blouse and bra. He imagined the kitchen in a bakery grew hot and called for minimal clothing. To add to his frustration, she had a sweet personality from what he had seen so far. The total package. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus. When he opened them, he gave her a steely stare and frowned, which usually sent the message home that he was in charge and wouldn’t accept any BS. “I think I will stick to Ms. Greene. This is a murder investigation, after all.” At his words, she paled again.

Her full lips trembled, and for a moment, he thought she would break down, but she stiffened her back and blinked the tears clear from her eyes. To his disgust, he admired her for that. “Yes, you’re right. Please ask me what you want. I have to reiterate that I did not do this, despite how it looked. Please Officer Connor, find the person who killed my assistant.” “Detective Pierce,” he corrected. “Trust me, I will find the one responsible. And when I do, I will do all I can to assist the D.A. in throwing him or her into prison for the rest of his life.” If he thought he would intimidate her into admitting guilt, he was mistaken. Her beautiful lips tightened. A glint of determination came into her eyes, and she said, soft but firmly, “I will do all I can to help you, but I am not guilty, and I won’t be railroaded into taking the blame so you can look good in front of your superiors.” He grinned, this time succeeding in throwing her off. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she found him attractive. She caught her breath and stared down at his hard-on he’d forgotten to keep covered. Then again, she could be shocked that he could be aroused in the midst of a situation such as this. “Agreed, Ms. Greene. Shall we continue?”

Chapter Three He was too sexy for words. Even when he tried his damndest to intimidate her, capturing her with steel in his blue eyes, she was drawn to him. But she knew the trouble she was in, and the only reason he hadn’t hauled her ass into jail already, she figured, was that he was attracted to her. Who’d a thunk a man like him would be turned on by her? And he was turned on, if that rock his pants swallowed was any indication. What was she doing thinking about that when she should be focusing on whether this man intended to pin the murder on her. This was bad, really bad. “I reiterate, Detective Pierce, I didn’t do this. I found Cammie as she was.” Her voice grew thick, and she swallowed several times, fighting for calm. “Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt her? Did she have a fight with her boyfriend?” She passed a hand over her forehead thinking. “I’m not sure Cammie even had a boyfriend. She was attending the community college, and other than a pile of books, she didn’t bring anyone by the shop.” “Did the two of you have a falling out?” Her throat went dry. She hesitated. “You might as well share everything with me, because I will discover all in time. I always do.” Surging to her feet, she rubbed her hands down her pants legs. Some self-conscious reminder told her not to turn her most hated body part to him as she paced over to the window, but she was too preoccupied. Flicking at the curtain she needed to take down and wash, she said, “Are you always this confident or is it just to scare me?” She glanced around to find him tapping his notebook on his knee. He leaned back, this time not hiding his arousal. Strange, why would a man like him want me? Surely, the police department isn’t using that technique to get guilty women to talk! His cell rang, and he excused himself to answer. While he spoke, she examined his lips. Curved and sensual, they’d be nice to kiss. He reached in a pocket of his shirt causing his biceps to flex. She licked her lips. Damn. Hard muscle, tanned skin, coal black hair that looked like it hadn’t been combed ever. And his scent. When was the last time she had had a man in the house? Detective Pierce’s natural male essence pervaded the room just as his physical presence did. The ache of loneliness bit at her. Ever since her mother died, keeping the bakery afloat had dominated her life. She wondered when it would all end, or for that matter where. The thought that it could be in prison hit her with a force that knocked her to her knees.

Off in the distance beyond the pounding of her heart, the snap of the cop’s cell phone closing reached her. No word passed her lips. No moan. She half expected him to come over and comfort her. That’s what men did, but he didn’t come. Her gaze remained locked on the faded worn carpet beneath her fingers. “Ms. Greene, where were you between seven last night and one in the morning?” She didn’t answer. His feet came into her line of vision. With no show of kindness or interest in her beyond his job, he yanked her up to face him. “Ms. Greene? Did you hear me?” “I was . . . I was . . .” He waited, his countenance forbidding. “The man outside,” she croaked. His brows shot down low over his eyes. “Yes?” “I was with him last night. We watched a movie.” She nodded toward the only indulgence she allowed herself, her collection of five hundred DVD movies. “He left really late.” He stared until she shifted under his scrutiny. He didn’t believe her. How could she lie? But what else was she going to do? She needed time to sort out what was happening. She had no alibi. What was she thinking? “The man from outside?” he finally said. A flip through his notebook with too much drama set her teeth on edge. “Ah, yes. John. The one who said he thought you would give him a try.” She was going to throw up. With any luck, the acid from her stomach would eat away his good looks and make him a lonely ugly man the rest of his life. Get a grip, A’isha. “Don’t move.” He pointed his pen at her and left the room. The slam of the front door a second later made her jump. Chewing off her thumb nail, she crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the coffee table, facing her collection. Would he ask what they watched? Or would John even get that she needed him as an alibi? Regret sapped her of energy. If John did stand in, then what? He might want to go out with her, but she didn’t feel the same shortness of breath and tingles in her nether regions when he stared at her ass or boobs. Panic rose in her chest, squeezing her heart. Tears clouded her vision.

She jumped to her feet and ran up the steps to land on her knees at the base of the toilet. Not having eaten that morning, she dry hacked, a sensation like rubber bands around her head weakening her further. “Mr. Stanton’s probably there, wondering where I am, why the bakery’s not open.” She stood wiping her mouth and then washed at the sink, brushing her teeth. Bending to swallow down some water to ease the ache in her throat, she didn’t realize he had stepped into the bathroom until she stood up and caught his reflection in the mirror. He was too close, or her bathroom was too small. The heat of his body set her aflame. She had no business whatsoever of wanting him. And for all she knew he was ready to slap the cuffs on. Please, don’t let me throw up in front of him. Her head dropped, too heavy to hold up, her chin digging into her chest. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry! “He collaborates your story, Ms. Greene, but if I confirm that you lied—and I know you’re both lying—I will arrest you.” “I had no reason to hurt Cammie!” she screamed. “Why don’t you get out of my house, and go find the real killer?” She turned to confront him, a mistake. In the limited space, her hip brushed his groin. Electricity threatened to send her back down to her knees, not a good place considering she would be level with his dick. When she caught herself by the edge of the sink, she could almost read his lightning fast mind coming to the same conclusion. He didn’t seem displeased with the prospect. He produced a card from his wallet. “Here’s my card. Call me if you have anything to add to what you’ve told me. And I will be calling when I have more questions.” He nodded and was gone. A’isha didn’t move. The horror of the situation she was in paralyzed her. Maybe she should call a lawyer. Mentally, she searched her house for the yellow pages and then slumped against the wall. Her credit cards were maxed out, her bank account held about eleven dollars, and if the police didn’t clear her immediately to reopen her bakery, she couldn’t even make her mortgage payment. “What am I going to do?” She trod into her bedroom and picked up the phone while squinting at Detective Pierce’s card. She just needed to ask a question. His voice wasn’t that sexy and deep. “Detective Connor? It’s me, A—” “A’isha.” He cleared his throat. “Ms. Greene. Yes?” She stared at the floor. At least here in her room, the carpet was nice, a deep purple frieze. Except that it required a matt under her computer chair. Indentions in that caused her to roll where she didn’t want to roll when she sat at the desk. She shook her head, snapping her mind back to the detective. “I was wondering if or when my shop would be allowed to open again. I can’t afford to be closed for any length of time.”

He sighed. “It may take a couple days at least. We need to be sure we have collected all evidence. After that, you will have to hire someone to come out and clean up. A crime scene isn’t something for the average person to handle.” “Oh.” His tone softened. “Listen, take this number down. Tell the guy who answers I sent you. He will get you done quickly. I will expedite things on my end and get him the proper release to do clean up. That should get you back in there in about two days. Will that help?” She sniffled. “Yes, thank you so much. I know you should remain neutral on this, but you can’t begin to know how much this means to me.” She scribbled down the number he recited. “Good. I will be in touch.” The line went dead. She frowned, and just when she was tossing the phone on the bed, the doorbell rang. “Who could that be?” Her throat closed as she descended the stairs. He certainly didn’t waste any time. John’s head was visible through the lace curtains at the small window in the door. She had neglected to pull the shade there. Steeling herself, she opened the door. “Hello, John.” “Hey, baby.” He grinned, revealing slightly yellowed teeth and stepped past her without giving her the chance or the choice to invite him in. “I can’t believe my good fortune today. But then again.” He tapped his temples with his fingertips. “I always stay positive, and know that my time’s coming. Girl, I been fantasizing about spending time with you.” She cringed. “And you feel like you have the chance now that I’m obligated to you, is that it? Lying to the police about being with me last night?” His heated gaze spanned her body from top to bottom and back again. Nostrils flared and a smirk on his face, he shook his head. “I might not have been here last night, but I could be tonight.” “I-I . . .” She sagged against the door she had neglected to close. The lock pressed painfully into her back, but she didn’t move. “You think I should sleep with you to be my alibi.” He walked up on her, towering slightly. In some corner of her mind, she noted that where John looked awkward at somewhere around six-five, with little muscle tone, Detective Pierce was just as tall and built to make a woman wet just looking at him. A’isha just cleared his chin. John dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder, one that slid lower to the beginning swell of her breast. Her heart hammered, and her mouth dried in an instant.

“I want you,” he told her, caressing where his hand lay and blowing a warm breath in her hair. “I want to bend you over a chair and bang that ass until we’re both sore, but I’m not going to force you. I don’t want some snotty, crying woman. I want you screaming my name and begging me for more. For now, I’ll settle for a date.” “Okay. I can do that.” She shivered at the image he drew of her bent over a chair. Tolerating him for a few dates was no big deal. She had every intention of helping Detective Pierce with his investigation to wrap this thing up. If he had more suspects, stronger ones, then maybe it wouldn’t matter if he knew the truth about her being alone. In a way, she was glad he didn’t believe her, although it wasn’t likely he would ask her out. “When do you want to do this, John?” “Tonight. Eight o’clock. We can go to dinner.” He backed off, moving to push the screen door open. “Oh and wear something low cut so I can enjoy the view.” What happened to the man who turned her off but was at least respectful? Give him a little leverage, and he was just as much of an ass as anyone else. She slammed the door. With the rest of the day free, she would spend it trying to find out just what Ms. Cammie was up to that she had been missing so much time from work. Maybe she did have a boyfriend and they’d had a falling out. Her physical files were in a dresser drawer in her room, copies of the originals at work and duplicates of what she had stored on both CD and her computer’s hard drive. Not that she was so efficient, but more like paranoid something would go wrong and she wouldn’t have records to prove something. “Yeah, like prove my innocence.” After warming a slice of pumpkin mascarpone pie and adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream to the bowl, she carried her comfort food up to her office and began her search. Cammie’s file didn’t have much in it beyond her application for employment and her tax forms. Her mother used to keep dossiers on customers and anyone who worked for her, personal information she had picked up over time to make their visits to Purely Sweets a positive one. A’isha was under no illusions that she didn’t have the touch her mother had. Her lips parted on a small “pah” sound. Soon she was crying again. “I’m so sorry, Ma. I’ve ruined your business. I don’t know why you bothered to leave it to me. I can’t handle anything. Everything I touch fails. Every trick I’ve tried just falls flat. Please, don’t look down on me from heaven and see the mess I’ve made.” For a few minutes, she indulged herself in self-pity, until she ran out of tears and had gone through the half-empty box of tissues she kept on the top of her computer terminal. After gathering them all, she deposited them into the trashcan with a mental note to empty it. Returning to her files, she picked up the phone and dialed Cammie’s home.

When no one answered after six rings, she was about to hang up. A woman with a thick voice like she had something caught in her throat or a stopped up nose answered. “Hello?” “Um, hi, this is A’isha Greene, owner of the Purely Sweets bakery on Curzon, where Cammie worked?” She couldn’t believe she had never called Cammie’s home or knew whether she lived at home with her parents or on her own. “Yes, I know who you are.” Had the woman’s voice turned bitter? “This is Cammie’s mother. I can’t talk now. The police are here.” Her voice broke. She cried openly for a few minutes, and A’isha wondered if she should just offer her condolences and leave it at that. They knew better how to conduct an investigation around a person’s emotional trauma. Then again, Detective Pierce had only been kind during the initial shock. After that he had turned cold. She was amazed he relented enough to help her when she called back. Cammie’s mother continued. “I’ve just finished telling the detectives how Cammie hated working for you, how she couldn’t wait to get out of there!” “H-Hated?” Spots danced before A’isha’s eyes. The clang of a prison door closing must be the product of her over-stimulated imagination.

Chapter Four Connor dropped into his desk chair and ran his hands through his hair. A pulse beat a tattoo at his left temple, and he searched his drawers for something to relieve the pain. While opening the Excedrin Migraine, he considered whether he had become addicted or if it was possible. He popped them on a daily basis trying to head off headaches. Half the time it worked; half it didn’t. But he downed them anyway. Carl sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his hands in his lap. The man was young and had little experience, but Connor respected his ability, his instincts for the job. He had bucked being paired with him, but it had turned out the chief was right. They did work well together. “So what do you think?” Carl said. Connor grumbled, pinched his nose, and tried to banish the image of A’isha in his mind. “I think there’s more to Ms. A’isha Greene than we first suspected. I’d like to get a full background check on her and the victim. Find out why Ms. Clark was so unhappy. Her mother was sketchy, and I can’t be sure she wasn’t just looking for someone to pin the blame on. Any prints from the weapon?” Carl shook his head. “Not a one. Whoever did this wore gloves or wiped the knife down. Might also be worth checking into its maker. The design is unique.” That statement surprised Connor. “You don’t think it was Ms. Greene?” He hated the hope that rose in him. Chanting “be objective” hadn’t worked on him thus far. His partner pulled out his notes. “Well, I like to reserve judgment, but I don’t know. I get the feeling like you that there’s more going on here. With her, yes, but I’m hesitant to believe she did it.” “With one look?” Connor frowned. “You saw her half a minute.” “Yeah, before you whisked her out of there. Wanna comment?” “No.” Connor stood up to get some water from the fountain. Carl followed. “You weren’t attracted to her, were you?” Carl snorted. “Why because I’m black? No, she’s not my type.” Connor bit back the retort he intended to that statement, but he was pretty sure Carl saw it in his eyes. He shrugged. If Carl couldn’t see what a sexy woman A’isha was, then he was an idiot. Remembering the woman Carl had brought to the Christmas party last year made him realize the man was right. A’isha wasn’t his type. That woman had been rail thin, beautiful, but too little on her bones. Not Connor’s idea of perfect at all.

“Did the lab come back with anything useful? Any prints in the store?” Connor poured himself a cup of coffee, knowing it was two or three hours old. He hadn’t slept more than two hours the night before, which was how he always was when starting a new case. After a couple weeks, he would fall into a groove, and sleep would return. Until then, he would be a bear to work with. His coworkers knew the drill. Carl laughed at the face he made upon sampling the coffee. Mud, pure and simple. “Plenty of prints. It’s a bakery.” He held up his hands. “Before you demand to know why I’m not on it, I do have one of the guys checking the prints against the central database. Any matches, he’ll call us.” Carl fell silent and seemed hesitant. “What? Spit it out!” “Her alibi. You don’t believe it, do you?” Connor frowned down at the Styrofoam cup in his hand. He had two real mugs in the bottom of his desk, given to him by Sergeant O’Hara, but he had no wish to encourage her. More often than not, her eyes were on his ass, and sometimes he wondered if he needed to demand she back off. O’Hara was pretty with that rich fiery red hair and rounded figure, but her pushy ways turned him off. Besides, he had no interest in dating a cop. They ran in his family, and enough was enough. “No, actually, I don’t believe it. But I’m going to let it stand for now until we have more, like a motive. I’m about to run over to the shop and have a look around again before I give her the go ahead to open it up.” He tossed the cup in the trash. “Coming?” “Nah, I need to follow these leads. I’ll let you know if I find out anything and add it to my report tonight before I knock off for the day.” “All right. Later.” Connor checked his weapon out of habit and strolled to the exit. He had intended to turn his vehicle in for servicing, but it would have to wait another day. No rest for the weary. **** Connor had to park on a side street almost a block away from the bakery as the area was crowded this time of day. He strode along taking in the surroundings, the neighbors, trying to determine if anyone had undue interest in the bakery. Everyone seemed to be going about their business. Beyond a curious glance or two at the police tape hanging from the doorknob, there didn’t seem— The tape might have been broken by a passing teen wanting to make trouble, but hopefully that same person had not also let themselves in. The front door stood slightly ajar. Connor approached with caution. Inside, he didn’t see anyone right away, and he closed the door securely behind him.

Something smashed in the kitchen. He drew his weapon. “Hello?” The back door was barred with a deadbolt lock requiring a key, so he knew whoever was in here had to come past him. They would not do so without hitting the floor first. Inching closer to the counter and the kitchen door beyond, he glanced at a box on the counter that hadn’t been there on his last visit. He peered inside. Mail, some with a past due stamp on the outside of the envelope. Possible motive? He moved on. The door creaked when he shoved it, and he paused again, adrenaline pumping high octane through his veins. He caught a whiff of honeysuckle and baby powder and crinkled his nose. No other sound reached him. Without warning the door slammed into his chin and knocked him off balance. His weapon went flying, but before he could lose his footing, he grabbed onto the counter and clipped the person rushing him. The wind whooshed from his lungs at the impact with the ground, and a soft body landed on top of his. When the stars cleared from his vision at the hit, he recognized A’isha but pretended he didn’t. He flipped her and rolled until he was on top of her. Pinning her hands above her head made her breasts push into his chest. He grew stiff between her legs in less than a second. “Please, Detective, don’t,” she gasped. “I thought you were the killer. I was trying to defend myself.” “You shouldn’t have been in here,” he growled. His gaze fell on the paper in her hands. “Getting rid of evidence?” “N-No, of course not. I just—” She blew out a breath. “Detective, as pleasurable as having you on top of me is, I’d just as soon get off this floor!” His flushed but hauled himself off of her and reached down to help her up. This time, he made no move to cover his swollen dick. She liked the feel of him on her? Let her look. And she did. He had thought she was a shy thing, but there was more to A’isha than met the eye. Not the least bit put off by her statement, he moved in close to her to breathe in her delicious scent. She stared up at him. “Detective?” Her lips were ripe for kissing. Just one taste. No one would have to know. He could be professional from here on out. He could...Tipping her chin higher, he covered her mouth with hunger that scorched his mind. Nothing was as important as sticking his tongue in to sample her sweetness. Her moans did him in. He slid his hand down to her neck and pressed his body along hers with her back to the counter. With one thigh, he parted hers and ran his other hand down to her ass. He squeezed, and she whimpered. Just a little more, a little longer. Showering kisses along the side of her face, he nipped her soft skin, sucked at it and pressed harder.

His shaft raged to get inside her. He fought to keep from yanking her dress up to satisfy his suspicion that she was wet between her legs. He wanted to taste there too. All night, inhaling her essence and feasting to his heart’s content. Suspect. The word exploded into his mind. He drew back, releasing her. Distance between them was the best thing right now. He walked around the counter to where she had left the box, glimpsing again the overdue bills. A’isha was having money troubles. He should be trying to discover how that might tie in to her assistance’s murder, but he didn’t want to think of her being guilty. A look over his shoulder revealed her panting and straightening her clothes. Satisfaction rose inside him. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her, had enjoyed his touch, his kiss. He had been with a black woman only once in his life, and the experience hadn’t been pleasant. But that had to do with the woman rather than the color of her skin. A person’s race made no never mind to him, but his experience hadn’t varied much from Caucasian women. “I apologize,” he began. “That was very unprofessional of me. It won’t happen again.” The look of disappointment on her face almost made him cross to her and take her in his arms again. Just as she had shown spunk a moment ago, she could be playing him now. What better way to throw a man off your trail than to seduce him. Boy, could she seduce him with hips like hers. He wanted to hang onto them and ride to his heart’s content. Clearing his throat, he turned away and picked up one of the letters in the box. The envelope said Air Mail. He guessed it was from her brother. She snatched it from his fingers. “That’s mine. You have no right to go through my things.” He puffed up, getting on his high horse to stare her down. “Might I remind you, Ms. Greene, that this is an official investigation?” “I know what it is!” she snapped. “You’ve been sure to remind me every time I’ve spoken to you. I’m sure kissing me was not a part of that, and neither is my correspondence.” He faced her fully. “Did I hear a threatening tone in your voice?” She seemed to consider that a moment, and then her shoulders slumped. “No, it wasn’t. I wanted that kiss as much as you did, and I was responsible for it happening just the same.” She would have said more, but her cell phone rang, and she turned away to answer. He began sifting through her box, if for nothing else than to see if an address might catch his eye. With half an ear, he listened to her conversation.

“Hello?” Her voice dropped lower. “John? All right. Yes, but do we have to go out every night? I have to— Okay... I said okay! Eight. I’ll be ready.” When she hung up, Connor raised his brows. “Problem?” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing I can’t handle, thank you very much.” She slid the box off the counter after dropping the rest of her letters into it. “If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.” He watched her walk to the door, making no move to help her open it, but she stopped and turned back. “I almost forgot.” She dropped the box. “I think someone was in here before me.” He went on the alert. “Why?” “Because someone has tried to get into my personal closet.” She passed into the kitchen with him close behind. “How do you know?” He scanned the area and stopped on the second of two doors which she stood before holding a heavy duty lock. He crossed to join her and eased the lock from her fingers with the tips of his. Concentrating to block the sensations passing through him at their contact, he examined the lock. “Looks like someone has been working at it, trying to pick it. I can get the guys to lift prints. I’ll check with my partner to be sure they didn’t already see this.” He tried the doorknob. “What’s in here, and why the special lock?” She grinned proudly, her chest swelling. “My mother’s prized recipes. She kept them tucked away, because she felt someone might want to steal them. Her baked goods were insanely addictive. I can’t come close even with access to her secrets.” She gasped. “Do you think someone was trying to get to the recipes, and Cammie caught them? Maybe that’s why they killed her?” He took in the serious expression on her face. She believed that nonsense she had just spouted. This was no million dollar establishment with clients the world over. This was strictly mom and pop. The woman’s livelihood, yes, but nothing more. “I doubt it.” Her face fell. “Oh...I had hoped to have this solved quickly. I’m in sort of a hurry.” “You’ll be cleared when the fingerprints are drawn from this lock. In fact, if you slip it off, I can take it into the office now. After that, the cleaning crew comes, and you’re clear.” He smirked. “Unless you meant something else?” He thought of John, the opportunistic new boyfriend. Hopefully, Ms. Greene had more sense than to sleep with him to keep his support. Jealousy rose in him at that thought. She seemed about to tell him where he could stuff his assumptions, but changed her mind. Instead, she offered a tight smile. “I can’t give it to you now. I don’t have another lock.”

He crossed his arms. “You don’t honestly believe someone wants to steal old cake recipes, do you?” “Prove they don’t!” A chuckle rumbled up in his chest. He held out his hand, palm up. “Keys.” “What?” “Your keys.” He wiggled his fingers. “I will not take the lock off until you bring me another lock, but neither will I allow you back in here until it’s clear. So, you can give me the keys to this place, and gather your things. We’re leaving.” Slapping her hands on her hips, she bellowed, “You have no right—” “We’ve been over that, and I affirmed that I do.” He took her by the arm and shuffled her toward the kitchen door. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Five A’isha scowled at her reflection in the mirror. Detective Connor Pierce was hot, and that set up some intense fantasies in her mind of doing much more, but his ordering her around had to go. For all she knew, he had settled on blaming her for the murder, and only needed the motive to push for an arrest warrant. She’d seen the cop shows on TV and knew that all he had to do was threaten John, and he would cave. Then she’d be in hot water. No, this investigation was up to her. Except for the fact that she had no leads and no access to whatever the police had access to. She couldn’t run prints as Connor had said or force people to talk to her. “Then again, I could ask the neighbors if they saw anyone snooping around.” Her lips curled at the thought. That was a start. If someone did see a stranger in the area early in the morning or late at night, the description might be familiar. Maybe the killer was someone she knew. That made her shiver. She prayed she didn’t know anyone capable of murder. But first things first. She needed to find a way to turn John off. The man had been insistent on nightly dates for the past few days, and he didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Her temporary buoyancy evaporated. John wouldn’t give up too easily. He might even get to the point that forcing her to sleep with him or else would no longer weigh on his conscious. “What would you do if a man said sleep with me, or I’ll let you get tried for murder?” she asked her reflection. Flicking a last curl in place around her heart-shaped face, she stared into her sad eyes. “I’m not Braveheart. I would sleep with him.” A wave of nausea hit her, but she swallowed it down and stood. Time to face him whether she liked it or not. Just as she reached her bedroom door, the bell rang. Not bothering to hurry, she went down to answer. John stood at the door in dress slacks and a dress shirt. He was half way decent except that he had taken his braids out the day before and didn’t bother to cut his hair. She tried not to center on the wild mess that it was. “Hello, John. Where are we going?” Instead of an answer, he jerked her into his arms and kissed her, full on the mouth. He ran his tongue along her lower lip, trying to force entry. If she thought about throwing up earlier, she really did now. She shoved at him, but his arms were wound like a straight jacket around her waist. When she tried to knee him in the nuts, he closed his legs. Finally, when frustrated tears fell, and he tasted the salt, he released her.

“Damn, your mouth tastes good.” He grinned, ignoring the fact that she had been fighting his kiss. “Except for that salty part. Let me look at you. My girl’s gotta be hot when we go out!” At his command, she twirled. His offending gawk was glued to her cleavage. Just as he requested, she wore a lilac-colored top with a button closure at the neck and a teardrop opening below that to show off the swell of her breasts. She hated the stretchy fabric, because it showed off her love handles a little too much. The black jeans she had paired with it hugged her hips and ass enough to make John salivate. After he had smacked her rear, squeezed and slid his fingers a little too low back there, she was contemplating killing someone for the first time. They left the house without him telling her where they were going. “It’s a surprise.” He grinned. The surprise turned out to be dinner at a midlevel restaurant with tasteless entree and questionable dessert, followed by dancing at a new club called Fire ‘n It. A’isha decided to make the best of things and try to have fun. Soon A’isha was shaking her thing to the loud music and had even been scooped up to dance with a few other fine-looking brothas to John’s fury. Two surrounded her, one in front, one in back. There had to be no more than an inch or two between their groins and her body. “Damn, baby,” the taller, older, of the two groaned in her ear. “That ass is doing things to me. Shake it for me.” She didn’t prefer to be spoken to like that, but it was all in fun for the moment. While she shook it a little harder to the guy’s howl of delight, she glanced up to see the fire in John’s eyes, but she kept her gaze moving before he could demand she get off the floor. Losing her balance, she fell against the man in front of her. He encircled her waist, grinding into her hips, but her concentration had zeroed in on Detective Connor Pierce leaning against the bar with a drink in his hand and his eyes on her. A woman with broad shoulders and a pretty face strolled up to his side. She rested a hand with familiarity on his shoulder and grinned up at him. When Connor turned his head to her, their faces were inches apart. Jealousy rose in A’isha, white hot and uncalled for. John strolled over and took her by the arm, yanking her from the man sandwich she was trapped in. “Get your motherfuckin’ hands off my woman,” John spat. “Go find your own.” The man who had been holding her frowned and walked up on John. “Maybe you should look after her better before someone comes along and takes her.” “Is that so?” John puffed out his chest, shoving A’isha behind him. “You think you’re the man to do it, huh?”

“Stop! I choose who I’m with.” A’isha stepped between them. “Look, it was fun, but I am with John, okay?” John reached around her to shove the man, only to be shoved back. The jostling had her reaching to hold onto John’s arm to keep from landing on the floor. “Problem here, gentleman?” A’isha glanced up to find the woman who had been hanging on Connor’s every word. She was a cop, too. Connor was close behind but said nothing, allowing his friend to deal with the scuffle. John sneered. “Who are you? Get lost. I don’t need no white woman interfering.” She flashed her badge. “This white woman happens to be a cop. Now, you want to break it up, or do I need to break it up for you? I haven’t locked anyone up in the last hour. I’m due!” When John’s hands came around her waist and rose to the underside of her breasts, she flinched and looked him in the face. His attention was on Connor who he had spotted behind his friend. For some reason, he thought Connor was interested in her and wanted to stake his claim. She rolled her eyes, wiggling from his hold. “John, I’m ready to go.” She didn’t wait for his answer, but marched past heading for the exit. The blaring music kept her from hearing whether he followed. She pushed through the door to the parking lot and paused at the blast of cool air. The drop in temperature was a refreshing change to the oppressive heat of the club. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” She spun around. John stalked over to her and took her arm. Wrenching herself free, she glared at him. “I’m going home, just like I said. I’m not in the mood to get in the middle of a fight between you and those two guys.” She crossed her arms, a smirk on her face. “Frankly, I think they’d beat you anyway.” “Oh, you got jokes, A’isha?” She thought he was about to hit her but he ran a hand down over her hair and caught her by the back of the neck. He drove her into his chest and dropped wet kisses along her cheek. “Feel that? My dick’s hard for you. I lied to the police for you. I deserve something in return.” “Not my body!” She bluffed. If he pushed, threatened to go back on his word, she might give in. Pivoting on the ball of her foot she strolled in the direction of her car. With any luck, John wouldn’t see fit to follow. Maybe he could find a woman in the club to give him some action and take him home later. She wasn’t interested. If she thought John was letting her off without a fuss, she was fooling herself. He spun her around and banged her back against her car, following with his body to trap her. With

all the strength she could muster, she flung her leg up to catch him between his. Her knee made impact this time. His knees buckled. “You bitch! You’re going to pay for that!” While he labored to get to his feet, her trembling fingers wouldn’t still long enough for her to get them in the lock of her car. John closed his fingers in her hair. She screamed. “You have one second, Mr. Ford, to take your hands off of her.” A’isha’s teeth clattered together, and she sagged against the car, resting her face on the cold surface of her window. John’s fingers left her hair. If Connor hadn’t come along when he did, she would have been at her neighbor’s mercy, a man she had known for years. Never would she have imagined he would attack her. Her quiet little neighborhood with older families and only one or two from her generation with kids went from safe to undesirable. John faced Connor with defiance. “Yeah, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted say—” “What?” Connor’s eyebrows arched. His expression made A’isha tremble, and she wasn’t the one he focused on. “I’m sure you’re not about to tell me that you want to change the story you gave me a few days ago, because I’d have to inform you of your rights.” “What!” John took a step back, forward then back, like he didn’t know if he wanted to run away or not. “Why? I didn’t do anything?” Connor’s voice didn’t rise above conversational level. His thumbs were hooked in jeans that fit him so right, A’isha’s eyes were drawn to them. “I’m sure you know about a little thing called obstruction of justice. I could name others that apply.” John held up his hands. “Um, yeah...uh...look, A’isha, I gotta go. It was nice and everything, but don’t call me, girl. You’re too much for even me to handle.” He turned and fled. A’isha breathed a sigh of relief. She peered at Connor. My hero. “Thanks so much,” she whispered. “You can’t begin to imagine...” “I think I can.” He took her keys from her fingers and unlocked her door. “Get in. I will follow you home to make sure you get there safely.” She slid into the driver’s seat and turned over the engine. “What about your friend?” Despite herself, the jealousy returned. She wondered if he intended to spend the night with that woman, if they were already lovers. “She’ll be fine.” He shut the door. Watching his long stride to his car, desire rose inside. She wanted him. Nothing serious could ever be between them, but give her one night, and she’d enjoy the ride. He was too beautiful.

Seeing him with the other officer was a surprise. While the woman had a pretty face, she was overbearing, and on the heavier side. Not that a man like him should date just model types, but seeing a real-sized woman on his arm was just...odd. A half hour later, she drew up to her house and parked well down the street, since all the good spaces were taken. Connor double parked, threw on his hazard lights and walked alongside her. She peeked up him through her lashes. This was what feeling secure was like. A big man with a big weapon at her side. Her heart pounded at the dual entendre, and she shivered. Just like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do, Connor wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She nuzzled close. “Were you watching me? Is that why you were at the club?” “Policemen party too.” She laughed. “Yeah right. That didn’t look like your scene. Besides, you weren’t even dancing, not even a foot tap.” “It wasn’t my song.” “Uh-huh.” He stopped her from walking, spun her to face him and lowered his head to just above her lips. She willed him to make the connection, to let her taste his amazing lips once more, but he withdrew, scanning the area. Of course, she had nosey neighbors. But didn’t everybody? Someone would have been watching out their window, telling everyone they could find that A’isha Greene was out in the street kissing on the investigating officer in the murder case, which pegged her as a suspect. She sighed. Connor continued walking, tugging her along. When they reached her house, he peeled the keys from her fingers and unlocked the door. Her heart palpitated at his gentle treatment. Reminding herself of her reality, she stepped through into the entryway and flicked the light on. The scene before her eyes made her knees buckle. Before she could hit the floor, Connor wrapped an arm about her waist and hauled her outside. He placed her on the porch chair. “Wait here while I check it out.” Her eyes widened at his freeing his weapon from the holster and disappearing through the door again. She waited for what seemed like hours for him to return. He came back calm, but grim. “Someone has jimmied the lock on your back door. They trashed the place—upstairs and down. Appears that they were looking for something. The TVs are in place, but your

computer is trashed on the floor. Did you keep any other valuables in the house, jewelry perhaps?” She didn’t answer. Dropping to a crouch, he cupped her face. “A’isha, I’m here. You’re safe, and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. But I need to know everything if I’m going to get this person.” “So, you believe me?” she uttered. “That I didn’t do it...kill Cammie?” He nodded. “Someone was at your shop trying to get into that closet. We did lift a fingerprint from it, but have no matches so far. There’s no way a different person for another reason was searching your home.” He caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes enjoying every second of it. “Don’t worry. I’m going to catch this creep, and when I do, he’ll pay for hurting you.” “Thank you so much, Connor,” she breathed out. “That means so much to me. I’ve felt alone in this, trying to be strong, but I don’t even have a girlfriend to turn to, and I don’t want to worry my brother when he can do nothing about it. Thank you.” He smiled. “Just doing my—no problem at all.” He flipped off the lights in her house, locked it up and turned to her. ”Come on. You can stay at my place tonight.” She gaped. “Are you sure?” “You can’t imagine.”

Chapter Six What the hell did he think he was doing? Even if he did believe she was innocent, he had no proof. He hadn’t begun his career yesterday. He knew she could have set up all that he had found up to now—someone to scratch the lock at work, and someone else to trash her house while she was at the club. That’s what insurance was for. But he also wouldn’t have gotten as far as he had if he didn’t know when to follow his gut. And his gut was telling him A’isha was not the killer. “I just hope it’s my gut speaking and not my dick.” “Huh?” She glanced up from the chair where she sat huddled like a scared little girl. “Nothing.” He shouldn’t have brought her here. Not to his house. His job wouldn’t have been in jeopardy if he dropped her at a hotel. But how could he? She trembled with fear. All he desired was to hold her. For the last ten minutes, he fought it. Don’t do it, Connor. Ignoring his internal warning, he crossed to the couch and sat down. “Come here, A’isha.” He held out his arms. Her beautiful eyes widened, but she stood up from the chair and stumbled the few steps over to him. Sliding her onto his lap nearly had him coming. “Come here, baby.” Don’t kiss her sweet mouth, Connor. “Mm.” He tried to eat her lips, sucking them between his, crushing her body to him. He couldn’t get enough. His shaft was so hard it ached. She wiggled out of his arms, and he nearly wept. “What’s wrong?” “We shouldn’t do this.” She ran her thumb over her mouth. He reached for her, but she moved out of reach. “You could get into trouble. I don’t want to be responsible for that. I’m in enough all by myself.” Grumbling at her logic, he stood, paced back and forth in front of her. With clenched fists shoved into his thighs, he kept his hands off of her. “You’re right, I guess. What then? Shall I take you to a hotel?” She blushed. “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he hurried to explain. “I just meant so you wouldn’t be staying here. This is a one bedroom apartment, and the couch isn’t comfortable.” “Says the man who’s seven feet tall.” Her giggle sounded shaky. “I know you didn’t mean that.” He watched her fiddle with her fingers, but drew no clue as to what the problem was with the hotel, if she didn’t expect him to stay there with her. He ran through what she had

said about her family, hoping one of them could take her in. But no, she had said they were not close. “It’s the only safe alternative.” Her voice turned wooden. “My credit cards are maxed, my bank account all but empty.” Shame stole over her face. The words were a punch to his gut. She was dealing with being accused of murder, along with the insecurity of a failing business. A lesser person would have crumbled by now. Feeling selfish, he didn’t want to give her the money. He wanted to push her to stay with him. “You have two options,” he began. “You can stay here with me, and I do mean with me. Or I can give you the money for the hotel. We can get things squared away at your house tomorrow.” She blushed then grew serious. “That reminds me, how did you secure the back door?” “As I mentioned, the lock was jimmied, not destroyed. I locked it again, and jammed a chair beneath the knob.” “That works in real life?” He nodded. “Yes.” He wanted to yell, stay with me, but didn’t. After a while, she stood and stumbled in the direction of the hall. “Where’s the bathroom?” He pointed. “First door on the right.” “I don’t suppose you have anything big enough to fit me? Like a gigantic T-shirt?” She emitted a trembling giggle.” Dare he hope? “You could just wear nothing.” Her eyes widened, but she looked like she squeezed her legs together. His words had excited her. He did everything he could not to snatch her into his arms and take what they both wanted. “I mean after that. I can’t walk around buck naked.” When he took in her body from head to toe, lingering on the more interesting parts, she grumbled, putting her hands on her hips. “Stop picturing me naked, and tell me if you have something for me.” With all the innocence he could muster, he strolled past her just allowing his arm to brush across her nipples. “Oh, I have something for you all right. Can’t wait to have you wrap your hands around it.” If he thought he would shock her, he was surprised. She spun around to follow and grabbed his ass chuckling. “Mm, I look forward to it.”

Connor scoured his drawers for a tee and then readied the shower. He intended to coax her into taking one with him, but while she had been forward in the living room, in the bedroom she hung stiff by the doorway looking like a scared little mouse. Suspecting she would forget her shyness if excited enough, he tossed the change of clothing on the bed and faced her. Kicking off his shoes, he crossed his arms over his stomach and grasped the ends of his shirt to pull them above his head. A’isha moaned on glimpsing his bare chest. He wasn’t vain, but he knew he had a decent body. Pushing himself at the gym and sometimes on the jogging trail was a requirement to keeping it that way. “You like what you see, baby?” He wiggled his eyebrows while unfastening the button at his waist. Her lips parted, and her tiny pink tongue darted out to swipe across them. His rod twitched. He pushed his jeans low on his hips, taking his boxers with them. A smattering of curly sable hair peeked out. Her intake of breath hadn’t skipped by him. She liked his strip tease, and it was igniting his lust like nobody’s business. She swallowed. “Yes. Keep going. Let me see what you have for me.” He stopped moving. “What are you doing?” she shrieked. “Not changing your mind?” He linked his hands behind his head, grinning. His erection held his pants up, hard as it was. “Come here, A’isha. I want you to finish undressing me.” “You’re very bossy.” She scooted over and dropped to her knees. As she rolled her palms over the outsides of his legs, she moved her mouth close to his shaft flashing those wide eyes at him. He panted. She was too sweet for him. A woman like A’isha should have a softer man, one who treasured her and gave her the world. Not him. He would only cause her heartache. Just last year, he’d had to have a bullet dug out his side. If he knew her then, and she loved him, that would have torn her apart. “What are you thinking about? You have a serious look on your face for a man about to get a blow job,” she teased. “Don’t say that.” She hesitated. “You don’t want it?” He pulled her to her feet. “I want it. Come let’s start this in the shower while the water’s warm.” Where he had wanted to take his time, bring her and him to a violent orgasm. Now he wanted to get to it. Guilt at using a woman who should be loved instead ate at him. They were adults. She wanted this as he did. This was sating their lust. That was all.

**** Something told her he saw her just as many other men had seen her. Like she was a doll to be coddled and treasured. She knew sometimes her personality could give the impression of innocence, even density. But she had a build up of serious sexual need inside just like anyone else. And if she had to seduce Connor and take what she wanted from his hot body, she would do it. She would get him worked up enough under the warm spray so he missed her many physical flaws. Stepping into the shower, she glanced over her shoulder at him in the bathroom doorway. He all but stuck his tongue out like a hungry puppy. While insecurity had her wanting to cover her dimpled rear, she ignored it and rotated the bar of soap in her hands until they were foamy. Then she ran palms over her breasts, teasing her nipples with her thumbs and tilting her head back with a moan. “No!” he exploded. She chewed her lip to keep from laughing. “Don’t do that yourself. I’ll do it.” He climbed in front of her and slid the shower door closed. Like she did, he soaped his hands, his eyes reflecting the eager longing he had to get his hands on her big breasts. “Damn, they’re big. I can’t believe the treat I’ll have sucking those nipples. A’isha, how can you be so beautiful? Come here, baby, let me pleasure you.” In a few words, he washed her doubts away at whether he found her desirable. He could scarce rinse the suds down the drain before taking her puckered nipple between his teeth. He sucked hard, making it pop from his lips only to rush taking it in again to repeat the process. A’isha groaned and pushed her fingers into her swollen center. Her fingers slick with her juice, glided deep in and out, and she pinched her nub between her fingers, pulling until she cried out. “Oh Connor, I want to come right now.” “Not yet. Please not yet.” He left the one nipple and moved to the other. The same tormenting treatment brought her to the edge of an amazing orgasm, but he backed off the second time. She protested. Licking his way down her body, he watched her, she knew, gauging her reaction to him. The sensations tightening the muscles in her womb, the anticipation of knowing he was about to eat her, was driving her insane. He had to know that! His tongue dipped between her legs, burrowing between her labia and on into her tunnel. She cried out, seeking blindly for the rail above the soap dish to keep from falling. Raising one foot to the side of the tub, she pushed her hips forward. The sounds! He lapped at her, slurped and dragged her juices into his mouth, smacking hungrily like she

was the best-tasting dessert he had ever enjoyed. He grunted, pushing deeper, and he gripped her ass to drive her hard to his mouth. “Connor!” she cried out. “You’ll suffocate yourself.” He sucked and ate harder. When he moved to her nub, the button was too sensitive. She jumped away. He followed, capturing her again to feast. His cruel mouth showed no mercy. He tugged on her little nubbin. It hurt too good. The climax came without warning, splashing down over her body, tightening in her womb and making her body vibrate with its force. A’isha took hold of the back of Connor’s head and pumped his face. She rode out the orgasm while he never stopped sucking until she sagged, weak toward the tub floor. After he had greedily licked away every drop of her come, he drew back. “I’m guessing you liked that.” She slapped his shoulder. “Your turn.” He looked away. “You don’t have to.” “You’re not getting off easily.” She retrieved the soap and began to wash his massive body. Every inch of his skin was taut across solid muscle. Just as he did, when she washed away the suds, she tasted his salty flesh. A white man. She had never dreamed of it, but Connor was perfection. She reveled in the color, the tanned skin even on his stomach and upper thighs. She wondered if he laid naked in the sun. “Your body is amazing,” she told him, taking his erection in her hand. She’d never been bold with a lover as she was now. But Connor made her desperate to have him. Fear could not stand in the way of it. She kissed the bulbous tip and swiped her tongue over it. Connor jumped, growling. Checking to see if she had hurt him in some way, she glanced up. His face had grown red. “What’s wrong?” She had asked the question just before tucking him between her lips and drawing on his tool. He shouted and drove a fist against the shower wall. “Fuck, A’isha, I’m going to come too soon! Your mouth...” “I want to taste you.” She gave him her sexiest smile. “Do it.” He howled again. “Don’t talk like that.” His balls rose, but she pulled back, sliding him out of her mouth. Kissing along his thighs, she waited for him to settle. He panted, hitting the wall with softer punches. “I’m sorry. I just want you so much. I can’t believe you’re here with me.” “You should be used to getting any woman you want,” she teased. “Sexy detective? Any woman would be leaping on your lap at the snap of your fingers.”

He sighed. “Problem with that is, I have special tastes.” “What kind?” She kissed the underside of his shaft. It twitched. “A woman with a body that’s so soft and curvy, I am always ready to come when I’m around her, and when she takes my dick in her mouth, I can’t control myself.” He pulled her up from her knees. “If I’m going to come too soon, I’m going to do it buried to the hilt in you.” He shut off the tap, and guided her out of the shower. With gentle hands, he dried her body and his own, then tugged her into his room. Soon they were face to face on the bed. He ran a hand down over her breasts and tucked a fingertip in the valley between them. “I want to move in right here.” She laughed. “You would suffocate.” “Then I would die an insanely happy man. Damn, you’re sexy.” She squirmed under his scrutiny. “Get on your back.” She rolled over to obey. “Look at you,” he demanded. His gaze swept from her eyes to her lips, down to her breasts, farther to her apex. He pushed her legs apart to examine her there too. “Wet again.” “How can I not be with you talking like that and looking at me?” She considered him with her head tilted to the side. “You’re just horny. The lust has blinded you to my belly, my hips and my thighs.” “Then lust, be my master!” He positioned himself between her thighs. “I have always loved a woman with meat on her bones. Soft and luscious. Breasts wonderfully more than a handful. I don’t care what other men want. I want you, A’isha.” She shook at his intensity “Take me.” He plunged in, rough and fast. Her knees sprung up, and he drilled deeper, all the way to the hilt just as he had said. “For fuck’s sake, woman, how can you be this tight!” He growled, driving in and out. “You’re going to make me come before I get started. A’isha, I’m going to need to make love to you all night long.” She couldn’t respond. The fit was tight. He filled her, stretching her insides. It had been so long, and Connor was more than average in thickness. He shifted her heels to the air

and bounced deeper. She screamed when another orgasm took her. “Connor, I can’t take it.” “A little more, baby. A little more.” She came for the third time. A body couldn’t come so soon with little rest, but she rolled into a fourth. His shaft touched on that sweet spot inside her passage, and each hit of his wide head sent waves of pleasure coursing over her body. He nipped and licked the insides of her knees, massaged her thighs, all while he pumped deep inside her. Pulling his shaft all the way out, he watched her through slitted eyes then drove in. When she neared her seventh orgasm, he reached up to pinch and twist her nipples. She shouted his name. Finally, he came. The warm flow coated her womb, and his hips spasmed, his eyes closed. His stuttering words spoke volumes about the bliss he experienced to rival her orgasms. Settling at her side and drawing her into his arms, he sighed. “That was amazing.” He kissed her ear. “I was serious about making love to you all night. I will be ready soon.” She laughed. “Wow, I lucked out, huh? A man who can go like the Energizer bunny?” He smirked. “How old is that commercial? But yes, give me a few moments. Did I hurt you? I was a little too enthusiastic, I realize now. It’s been a long while.” “For me too.” She flipped over to face him. “You didn’t hurt me.” Her shyness returning, she lowered her gaze to his chest. “I’ve never had a man to bring me to orgasm seven times in a single session. I’ve heard tell of the...what is it?...G-spot? That had to be it. So powerful. I feel like I could bow to your prowess.” “And I feel like preening like a lion at your compliments.” He laughed, sitting up and pulling her. “Come on, perfect woman. Time to clean you up so I can enjoy the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” “Oh!’

Chapter Seven A’isha woke with a satisfied smile on her face and a sore cootchie. She winced tossing her feet over the side of Connor’s bed. He hadn’t lied or exaggerated. The man had parted her thighs on up until four in the morning. And she had kept reaching peak after amazing peak. How he could sustain a hard-on so long was beyond her. But like he had admitted, it had been a long time for both of them. Shouting voices caught her attention. She shuffled over to the closed door and pressed an ear to it. Connor argued with a woman. Oh no! The woman he had gone out with the night before was there. If she saw A’isha, she might tell his boss, and he would be fired. She turned the doorknob and inched the door open a crack to pick up what they were saying. “I thought we were out on a date, Connor,” the officer yelled. “But you go haring off after that woman in the club and never came back. You couldn’t have told me something, or answered your phone?” A’isha didn’t remember hearing the phone ring. He must have turned off the ringer. Good thing she didn’t just show up at his place. “Look, Jen, I’m sorry. I did try to settle things with Ms. Greene and her friend. Last time I checked, that was my job. He attacked her in the parking lot.” He hesitated. “After that, I had some things to take care of. I should have called. I apologize.” They both grew silent. A’isha strained to hear more, but caught nothing. She hoped he wasn’t out there kissing the woman! “Whose jacket is this?” She paused. “Smells like honeysuckle.” There was a rustle of fabric. “I will not be questioned in my own home, Jen. I think you need to go. We went out a few times. Nothing serious. I realize now that wasn’t the best idea.” “You’re not serious?” “Please leave.” His voice was so cold, A’isha shivered where she was. She hoped there would never come a time when he would dismiss her with the same lack of emotion. The door opened and slammed shut. A’isha sagged against the wall. A moment later, Connor stepped into the room. “Hey, baby.” All she wanted to do was to jump in his arms and kiss him. Instead, she walked over to the bed to gather her clothes. “Hi. I think it’s time for me to leave, Connor.” She turned to face him. “Last night was...incredible. But I’m not going to risk your job. If you could spot me a few dollars for a taxi, I can go home. I’ll get you the money back after I reopen the shop.”

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I enjoyed last night too. Sex that good isn’t something I’m willing to give up quickly. No, you will not catch a taxi. I have to go into the office, and I’ll drop you off on the way.” “Connor...” “Not a discussion, A’isha.” She grumbled. “There you go again, thinking you’re in charge of my life. The only reason why I’ll go with you is I can’t force you to give me the money, but as soon as my shop is re-opened, we’re not seeing each other again.” She scooped up her clothes and headed into the bathroom. When the door clicked shut, she locked it. Bitter disappointment hit hard. Not in a million years would she find a man like Connor again, generally a good person, strong, brave, sexy. And best of all, he wanted her! She would never forgive herself if she let her physical urges cause a man that good to lose his job. They would each be better off if she walked away. Knowing his soft spot for her, might make him more apt to look hard for the real killer than someone else on the case. No, she had made the right decision. Now, if he kept his hands to himself, everything would be fine. **** By one in the afternoon, the cleaning crew had come to the bakery, done their work and had gone, and by four-thirty, A’isha had gained some semblance of control over the madness on the first floor of her house. The police report of the break-in didn’t look promising, but Connor had promised he would treat the incident as being related. That should get a little fire going to capture whoever had done it. While she scrubbed the kitchen floor—the fingerprint powder Connor’s men used on the back door was everywhere—someone rang the doorbell at the front. She set down the mop, hoping it wasn’t John. Normally, she would see him hanging around the neighborhood like he didn’t have a job to go to, but today she hadn’t seen him at all. Her guess was the man was still smarting over Connor’s threat to arrest him. She tiptoed to the door, making as little noise as possible, because for some reason, a person could hear everything going on inside from the front porch. Paper thin door, windows or wall, she guessed. Maybe all three. Glimpsing a man who looked like a messenger through a slit in the shade, she unlocked the door, having to remove the chain at the same time. Feeling safe in her home was a thing of the past. “Yes?”

“Ms. Greene? Ms. A’isha Greene?” he asked. When she affirmed it, he held out a thick envelope and a clipboard. “Sign here, please.” She hesitated, but he offered a kind smile that had her reaching to do his bidding. Strolling back to the kitchen while opening the envelope, she had a sudden drop in her stomach. Something didn’t feel right. Not looking inside the envelope, she tossed it on the kitchen table and stared at it. “Too thin for a bomb, right?” she asked no one. “Nobody would kill me. I have no enemies.” Then again, before the murder, she would have said the same about Cammie. What they didn’t know, Connor had said to her, was whether this was pre-meditated or Cammie stumbling in on a burglar. Anyone thinking Purely Sweets had money they could steal weren’t from around these parts, that’s for sure. “Just do it. Open the envelope. It could be something good.” She plucked the manila envelope up from the table and dumped its contents out on the table. Photographs. High quality photos with a really good camera, one she thought that might have a lens which didn’t require a flash at night, but used infrared. “Pictures of me and Connor having sex.” Sliding down to the floor, tears obstructing her view, she heard the phone ring but didn’t answer. Whoever it was could not remove the horror of knowing someone had been watching her with Connor, just last night for goodness sake. That meant they had been following her around, waiting for her to slip up, waiting for a chance to hang something over her head. The phone blared to life for the second time. When she didn’t pick up, it stopped and her cell phone buzzed. Her rear growing damp from the still wet floor, she scooted to the corner between the baker’s rack and the wall. The calls continued for a half hour before she began to hear a siren blaring in the distance. Soon tires screeched in the street outside, and someone banged on the door. “A’isha, open the door!” Connor stood outside, probably causing a scene with his siren and lights, yelling like a madman, or a cop come to haul her away. She hurried along the hall and struggled with the locks and chain. When she finally got the door opened, he burst through, slammed it shut and drug her into his arms. He kissed her lips, her hair and her neck, mumbling, “Are you okay? I called over and over.” She stared up at him. Coming to his senses, he let her go and frowned. “Why didn’t you answer?” “I got mail.”

“The pictures? Where?” When she told him, he marched into the kitchen and picked up the photos to flip through them. His scowl darkened as he sifted. Hugging herself, she said, “Shouldn’t you be handling them with your fingers on the edges in case of fingerprints?” “You think I’m going to report these?” he snapped. “Hell no!” She flinched. “I’m sorry, Connor. I’ve ruined your life. He held up a hand. “A’isha, don’t. Just...don’t. I’ve got to figure out what to do about this. I got the same exact photos, and there’s no way anyone can mistake it’s you and me.” He jerked his fingers through his hair. “Mine came with a note.” “A note?” She touched his arm, terrified of asking but needing to know. “What did it say?” “It said to drop the investigation on you, otherwise, the chief will get these.” She perked up. “Well that’s kind of a good thing, isn’t it? It proves I’m not the one. Your boss may not like that we were lovers, but this shows I’m not the one. You’re not obstructing the investigation.” In disgust, he flung the pictures on the table. “A’isha, don’t you get it? The note said to drop the investigation on you—you!—not on Cammie’s murder or even on the shop. This only makes you look like an incompetent murderess trying to get the heat off yourself.” Her jaw went slack. The room spun and tilted while black dots zigzagged before her eyes. “No.” She shook her head. “No, can’t be. What did I do to deserve this?” she screamed. “Damn it, I’m not some bad person who went around screwing people over, so karma’s back with a vengeance! Why is this happening? Why can’t I make my life work? What’s wrong with me?” She ran about the house, ripping open drawers and searching the contents for who knew what. Dumping over trashcans that had just been filled with trash, she muttered and cried all the way. When she was lifting a vase her grandmother had given her mother years ago to smash it to the floor, Connor’s arms came around her, and he removed the heirloom from her trembling fingers. “Okay. It’s going to be okay, A’isha,” he soothed. “We’ll work through this together.” “No, it’s not going to be okay!” She pulled away from him although she was calmer now. “You don’t know what this is like. Everything is so hard. I’m not superstitious in the least, but I feel like I’m cursed.”

“I know it—” His cell rang, interrupting what he had been about to say. A’isha spun to the trashcan she had overturned and began clearing it up. At Connor’s exclamation, she turned her attention to him, fearing the worse. “What is it?” she whispered. He sighed. “Carl just learned that Cammie had recently put a deposit on a storefront shop a few doors away from yours. He questioned the landlord who admitted that Cammie mentioned starting her own coffee shop slash bakery.” “Th-That must be why she resented me, why she hated working for me. I bet she thought she could do so much better, and hated having to answer to an inept shop owner like me. And it...It gives me a motive.” A’isha’s eyes glazed over. Connor pulled her to her feet and directed her toward the front door. On the way, he snatched up her jacket and purse. Had she not been so devastated, she would have found it comical of him with his triceps bulging and a purse slung over his arm. “Where are we going?” she muttered. “Out! Away from this place and this situation for a while.” He tightened his hold at her waist. “You need it, and frankly, so do I.” A’isha didn’t get the chance to protest further, that she was not dressed properly to go anywhere or to check her hair. Connor had her tucked in the car, and was speeding along the highway. “Where are we going?” she asked again, her arms folded across her chest. He stroked her cheek, but she pulled away. He grunted. “A park I know of, outside the city, where I sometimes run when I want a change in scenery. A’isha, I—” “You what?” “I thought we had something, but you’re pushing me away. I know you’re afraid, but I’m here for you. I have the resources, the training...” “Everything you’ll lose if you keep seeing me, Connor.” “So I should fuck you, and walk away, leaving you to fend for yourself. Is that it?” He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers and holding tight when she would have resisted. “We’ll be careful. I don’t want to risk my job anymore than you want me to. Believe me, I love it. I’m cut out for it. But I’ve also had it with women who just don’t work with me. I’m not making a declaration of love here.”

“Thanks. I knew it wasn’t any more than good sex,” she grumbled. “I didn’t need the reminder.” “Damn, you’re infuriating!” She laughed. The tension broke without warning. “So are you, but I bet you’ve heard that a lot. Look, I already know I don’t have much to lose. I didn’t have much in the first place. But you have a lot more going for you. I don’t want to screw it up.” She held up a hand. “Before you say anything, I’m not coming down on myself. Sorry about that whole episode where I lost my mind. I think I actually did for a second there.” He kissed her hand. “You shouldn’t apologize for that. This is a lot to deal with for anyone.” “Yeah, well anyway, I think it’s not smart to see each other right now. And I do believe”—she glared at him—“you’re still thinking with your small head. You want me, and you’re not willing to give me up. Plus you’re a man. Guys take more risks.” “Did you just stereotype me?” “What if I did?” She smirked. “That’s almost a smile.” “I think you have dead bodies in your closet.” “What?” He laughed, taking an exit off the highway and slowing for the light ahead. “Where did that come from?” “You’re too good to be true, so there has to be some deep-seated flaw in you. Not that I’m looking for it.” “Uh-huh.” He parked. A’isha followed him out of the parking lot to a nearby trail. Like they had been doing it for years, they clasped hands and walked along side by side. A’isha peered up at him, and he kissed her. “I just figured it out!” she declared. At his blank expression, she went on, ticking off his flaws on her fingers. “You’re stubborn and bossy. You don’t take no for an answer. You don’t respect a woman’s decision to be old and lonely.” “Okay, okay.” He laughed. “Got it.” “If you’re forcing me to date you, or be your lover—whichever—then I’m going to have to know more about you. Ever been married? Any kids? Siblings?”

This time he ticked off the facts. “No, I’ve never been married. No kids, and I have a sister, but she doesn’t speak to me much.” “Why not?” “Long story.” His handsome face reddened. “I told her, her second husband was gay.” A’isha stopped walking and burst out laughing. “Oh goodness, you did not tell her that.” He nodded, shame written all over his face. A’isha felt sorry for him. She nuzzled in close and rested her head on his chest, stroking his back. “I guess you’re not perfect after all. I can breathe a sigh of relief. Do you hate gays then?” His eyes widened. “Of course not. I just happen to know that this man in particular is just using my sister. I tried to present her with my evidence, and let’s just say, she’s too in love right now.” Despite his flippant attitude, pain flashed in his eyes. The rift with his sister hurt him. “She’ll come to her senses sooner or later. Look at it this way, for now, she’s very happy. We should cherish those times; guard them like a precious gem.” “Hmm, you’re probably right.” A’isha hadn’t noticed how long they were walking until she realized the sun had gone down, and it was becoming harder to see. The trail curved away from the street leading out of the park at that point, with trees all around. The walkers who had been ahead and behind them had long gone. “Shouldn’t we get going?” Connor grinned. “Why? Getting scared? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll protect you.” He tugged her tight against his chest while his mouth descended on hers. For a long while, they stood kissing, A’isha savoring the velvety smoothness to his warm mouth, and the tingles of awareness shooting through her body. She could have stayed right there, oblivious to the world forever, but the dull thunk followed by Connor dropping unconscious to the ground ripped her back to the reality of her assistant’s murder.

Chapter Eight “She’s missing, damn it! I’ve already explained it to you!” Connor winced as he stuck the bag of ice on his head. Whoever had caused the painful lump and grabbed A’isha would pay with their lives. “Well, explain it again, detective, until I get it,” his boss, the chief bellowed. “Because I’m having trouble understanding how you were out on a date with the primary suspect in this murder case.” He slapped the file on Connor’s desk. “And while you’re doing that, you can talk about this.” Another folder followed the first. Connor’s heart sank. He could guess what was inside. He flipped open the file to find the pictures of he and A’isha in the throws of passion. Apparently, he hadn’t moved fast enough for whoever sent him the warning. He had been out all night long searching for evidence of where A’isha had been taken. He’d initiated an APB to keep a look out for her. With no sleep, he wanted to rip someone’s head off. The chief’s was not the one to aim for. “You were cleared of that other incident, Connor, but not to my satisfaction. Far as I know, you came on to that woman and changed your mind later. Then she couldn’t take no for an answer. Had to take it further. What’s your excuse this time? Ms. Greene attacked you? Made you go down on her like you’re doing in this picture?” He held up the photo. Connor snatched it away before anyone else could see it. “It’s not like that.” He was the biggest fool in existence. A’isha had warned him, had even accused him of thinking with his dick. Maybe he was. He couldn’t phantom her with anyone other than him, had dreams of taking her again. Shit! “Chief, I didn’t intend for this to happen. A’isha and I just...” Nothing sounded right. It would be lame to say they clicked. He ran a hand over his neck. “I screwed up—” “You damn right you screwed up! Fucked up, too! Give me your badge and weapon.” “What? No, chief, please. I can fix this.” “No, you can’t.” The chief shook his head, the man Connor had admired for all of the fifteen years he had been on the force for his dedication, and even for his adherence to keeping a strong healthy body despite sitting behind a desk. “I can’t brush this under the table, Connor. IA is involved now. They were called in the second these photos surfaced. You’re suspended until further notice.” “They were called in?” Connor stood, un-strapping his gun from the holster. He couldn’t believe his chief didn’t back him, but he wasn’t going to argue any longer. “Okay, but she didn’t do this, chief. There’s someone else out there. We didn’t take these damn photos and send them to you, that’s for sure.”

“Be that as it may, Carl will lead this investigation from here on out. You go home and think about how you’re going to keep your dick in your pants long enough to get your job back. If you do. If IA decides you were obstructing this investigation because she was giving it up to you, you’ll be brought on charges, and you will never work as a cop again.” He was screwed. If IA spoke to John, there was no way he wouldn’t spill his guts, exaggerating to bring Connor down, even if he risked A’isha’s freedom along with it. But that was a moot point if he didn’t find her. As he left the station, he prayed she was okay, that the guy hadn’t hurt her. **** A’isha came to consciousness at the sound of something cracking. A blindfold covered her eyes, and her hands and feet tingled indicating she was tied up. She tried not to move to keep from alerting whoever might be around. Dragging in a deep breath, she choked on the musty scent in the air. The cracking stopped. What she assumed was a chair scraped back. Footsteps echoed around the room, coming closer. Her ties were checked. “You’re awake. Good.” A woman? Never in a million years would she have thought it was a woman. “Do I know you?” She got a smack for that. “Shut up. I will ask you questions, and you will answer.” An accent she couldn’t place reached her ears. “Got it?” She nodded. “Good.” Her voice came down near A’isha’s ear. “Now, where are the papers?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What papers?” A’isha struggled against her bonds. The result was more pain. She wondered what permanent damage could be done with no circulation in her hands and feet. “Don’t play games with me!” She took A’isha by the shoulders and shook her. A’isha’s head snapped back and forth until she cried. “Tell me where, selfish bitch.” Selfish? “Please, I don’t have your papers. Trust me, if I did, I would give them to you.” The woman released her, and she tilted her head to the side, waiting for the spinning to stop. She wanted to ask if Connor was safe, but didn’t dare. If this mad woman had him tied up, A’isha didn’t want to provoke her to hurt him as a way to get A’isha talking. What could possibly have given this woman the impression that she had anything of value

beyond the crap that filled her small old house? If she was the one that had trashed it, she already knew that. She searched for an idea that would get her free. “I can help you,” she offered. “If you tell me more about what you’re looking for, maybe it will jog my memory, and I can go get the papers.” The woman didn’t answer. “Hello?” “You don’t need to know anything more. You already know what I’m talking about, and if you don’t tell me where to find them, I’m going to take it out on your boyfriend.” A’isha cried out, tears springing to her eyes. “No, don’t hurt Connor. I don’t know where the papers are. I—” “Stop lying to me!” The slap sent her head to the side, her cheek stinging. She must have bitten her lip, because she tasted blood. This woman wasn’t going to listen to reason. And if A’isha couldn’t escape to find Connor, they might both end up where Cammie was. “All right. You win.” She heard the smile in the woman’s voice. “I knew you would see it my way.” She patted A’isha’s cheek. “Better to talk than to end up like your friend, huh? I made sure to get the finger pointed at you just in case, but who knew you were such a whore, sleeping with the investigating officer. Now, tell me.” “I can’t tell you. I have to show you.” A’isha thought fast. “There’s a secret hideaway no one knows about at my bakery. My mother had it put in many years ago when I was a child. I know you tried to get into that one closet, right? It’s in there, but you’ll have to take me with you, because there are a series of steps to take to reveal the compartment.” She pressed her lips closed. Someone had once said if you were going to lie, keep it simple. Her story had run close to revealing itself to be fantasy. Holding her breath, she waited for the woman’s response. Okay, we’ll go. Tonight, when it’s dark out.” Something cold ran along A’isha’s cheek. “But if you’re lying to me, you’re dead.” **** Something ground like metal against metal, and A’isha imagined a warehouse door sliding open. Cool night air bathed her warm face. Her captor shoved her forward into the night. As they marched along, A’isha tried to take in her surroundings with reduced senses, but fear seemed to clog her hearing. Every time she focused on a sound, her mind

went blank or the sounds became distorted. Connor in the same situation would take it all in, and be free by now. Then again, he was trained. He dealt with violence every day as a part of his job. She was new to all of this, and didn’t want to make it a habit. Soon they stopped, and this time, A’isha caught the distinctive click of a car’s trunk unlocking. “No, you can’t put me in the trunk. I’ll run out of air. The bumps in the road will cause me to hit my head. I’ll be knocked out and disoriented. I won’t be able to remember how to do the code.” She was rambling out of control, but couldn’t pull herself together. “Oh, you better hope you remember.” She slammed a hand down on A’isha’s head. “Now get in the car!” “No!” With her arms tied behind her back and the blindfold still in place, A’isha guessed where the woman’s foot was and came down on it with brute force. When she doubled over with a shout of pain, A’isha rammed her. They both went over, landing on the ground. The sickening thud of the woman’s head hitting the ground almost made her throw up, but A’isha swallowed and rolled to her knees. She found the bumper of the car to lean on to stand and took off running, all the while praying there was no drop off somewhere that would cause her to break her neck. Voices in the distance caught her attention. She ran harder. “Help! Somebody help me!” “Where are you? A’isha!” The woman had come to. A’isha ducked down and slowed her run. She attempted to steady her breathing so she could hear behind her, but the noise of her panting and the slap of her feet on the road muffled all other sounds. Stepping wrong off a curb, she tumbled forward to land on the ground. Now she heard the pounding feet somewhere in the darkness. The voices she had heard were silent. Maybe the echo off the buildings had led her in the opposite direction. Rolling to her knees, she tried to stand, but the pain in her ankle sent her down for the second time. She tried again. This time she rolled down steps to land in a puddle of water. The disgusting stale liquid coated her face. She shook her head to get it off, trying not to think about the germs and single-celled living creatures in it. Footsteps clattered past. “A’isha, where the fuck are you!” The woman’s voice faded. She sighed, laying there half in the water. If she could figure out how to get the rope off, she could make some head way in her escape. The ropes grew tighter. With a sob, she realized that wetting the rope only made it draw up. Now, she wasn’t getting it off no matter what she did. Instead, she scraped her face along the ground. The blindfold slid up a small way so that she could peek out with one eye. She lay in a narrow alley between two buildings. From the nearby freight storage containers, she guessed she was near the docks. Inhaling the air

confirmed it. Where she had been too confused and afraid to pick up the scent earlier, she smelled the water now. Flipping to her other side, she scraped her face on the ground a second time. The blindfold shifted to her forehead. Her eyes uncovered, she struggled to sit up. Now that she could see where she was going, she could run faster and get help. There were always people working at the docks, or just hanging out. Come to think of it, there was a club not far. An old boyfriend had taken her there on their second date. The shoddy upkeep and wild patrons were not her cup of tea, but her date loved it. She had broken it off soon after. Finally on her feet, she sighed. “Never knew I had such strength. Can’t give up now.” Keeping to the shadows and stopping every so often to listen, she hurried in the direction she remembered the club being. Her hands had gone numb, and she had to pee, but she pushed on. Around a corner, she came across a woman several feet away. Something made her pause instead of calling out for help. The woman didn’t look right. About her height, thin with short hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a perm in...never. Her back was to A’isha. Come on, turn around. If it’s you, I’m going to remember so I can tell Connor. As if she had heard A’isha’s silent demand, the woman spun around, but her face dipped into the shadows before A’isha could study her features. One thing was for sure. She had never seen the woman in her life. A’isha searched the area for a weapon, but the woman moved off in the opposite direction. She could only assume her kidnapper didn’t know about the club. If she had known, she would have checked there by now. After alternating between running and hiding, the beat of the club’s music filled the air. A’isha picked up the pace. The rickety old front door came into view. A man stumbled out the door, followed by a couple with their tongues down each other’s throats. A’isha wobbled on her swollen ankle, her throat dry, attempting to call out. A warbled grunt escaped her lips. No one heard. She pushed on, a wide parking lot, filled to capacity with cars but no people separated her from help. A taxi drew up. A’isha took a tumble over a pebble in the road. She caved with no strength left in her body. So close, she lay there unable to force her muscles to lift her, to carry her the rest of the way. Please, no. I’m going to die here. And no one will notice until morning when it’s too late. Or that woman will get me and drag me back to the warehouse.

She cried, racking sobs that shook her weakened body, but produced no tears. Her small mewls must sound like a frightened kitten. Who would hear over the man singing something about a cheating spouse anyway? Ruckus laughter burst from the club. A few guys, young by the sound of their voices, maybe late teens, early twenties, ribbed each other about the ladies giving none of them any play. They headed in her direction. When the toe of one of their shoes impacted with her head, she cried out, and he stopped. “What the—” “What’s down there, Tavon?” another asked. The guy who had kicked her bent down and brushed the hair off her forehead. “A woman. Damn, fellas, we were working that club all night, and here all tied up for us was a sweet thing, right beside our car.

Chapter Nine Her eyelids fluttered. She pursed her lips and frowned, a glimmer of pain and fear coming into the unfocused eyes. “I...” “Shh.” Connor stroked her cheek. “No, baby, don’t try to talk. Just rest. I’m here. You’re safe, and no one is going to hurt you.” She cried as she had been doing in her sleep when he arrived at the hospital. The doc had given her something to help her rest, but he imagined the horror she suffered came flooding back with consciousness. “They said...They were going to...” “Shh. We can talk later.” He tried to soothe her, but she insisted on speaking. He waited, letting her get out what she felt she needed to. “Those teenagers. I thought they were going to...” She jerked like she would be sick, but was too weak to. She fell flat against her pillow, her eyes drifting closed and then open again. “No, the guys who found you called the police. They cut your rope off, wrapped you in a jacket and tucked you in their car until the police and ambulance arrived. Those guys saved your life.” Her sweet mouth formed an O. He drew her into his arms. He shouldn’t feel this emotional over her, not having known her that long, but the sense of fierce protection still rose inside him. The person who had taken her would pay for hurting her. He’d see to it. The door opened, and Carl stepped inside. Connor eased A’isha back against the pillow. “She’s just waking up. Can’t this wait?” “Afraid not.” At least his partner looked sympathetic. The chief didn’t care if it looked like someone else was involved in this. He stuck to the fact that Connor had screwed up. He hadn’t been reinstated despite new developments. Carl sighed. “I need to question her while this is still fresh in her mind. It might give us more to go on.” Connor nodded. “Fine. Go ahead, but make it fast.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “If she cries, the interview is over.” “Damn, Connor. She’s had a rough time. Of course, she’ll cry.” Carl’s eyebrows shot up, a look of disbelief in his expression. “One would think you were in love with her, but that can’t be. You’ve just met.” “Just question her!”

Connor leaned forward and brushed the hair from her face. His light touch caused her eyes to drift open again. She first looked at him and then Carl. Not giving a damn what Carl thought, he slipped his hand in A’isha’s willing her to take some of his strength. “It’s okay, baby. He just wants to ask you a few questions,” he encouraged her. “If you tell the detective all you can remember, it will help us catch this guy.” “Woman,” she whispered. Carl’s eyes narrowed. “Come again?” She drew in a shaky breath and tried to sit up. Connor pressed her down, but used the mechanism to raise the bed higher. A’isha went on. “It was a woman. She acted like she knew me.” “What did she look like?” Carl’s voice was too sharp, making her tremble. She nearly cut Connor’s circulation off as she gripped his hand. He guessed she was afraid they wouldn’t believe her, would think she had set the whole mess up. But that raw skin on her wrists wasn’t staged. In some places, the rope had cut through, and she bled. From her wrist to half way up her forearms bruises discolored her skin. “I don’t know what she looked like. She kept a blindfold on me the whole time. It wasn’t until I got away from her that I got it off by scraping my face on the ground.” She began to sob. Connor stood, but she waved him off. “It’s okay. Sh-She asked me about some papers. I didn’t know what she was talking about. I have nothing of value at all. Nothing.” Connor reached for her. He didn’t care what Carl thought. He tucked her onto his lap and rocked her gently. “It’s going to be okay.” Carl was not to be put off. “You said you didn’t recognize her, her voice. Could she be an old friend? She first struck at the bakery, which used to belong to your mother. Maybe she was an ex-partner or—” “Partner!” A’isha struggled out of Connor’s hold. “Yes, my mother did used to have a partner. That was eight years ago. They had a falling out. Ma never said what it was about, but I just assumed she couldn’t take Mil’s baking anymore. The woman had no business being in my line of work. She couldn’t cook worth a damn.” Carl took down the information in his notebook. “Her name is?” “Mildred Servant.” A’isha rolled her eyes. “She was anything but. Loud and obnoxious. I can’t believe I forgot her, but then she was ditzy. I don’t believe she was involved. This woman couldn’t have been Mil.”

Carl snapped his book closed. “You’d be surprised at the masks people wear. We’ll find her. Don’t worry.” After a few more questions, he nodded to Connor and left as quietly as he had entered. **** A’isha’s injuries weren’t great, just the bruising and somewhat sore muscles, but Connor wouldn’t allow her far from his side. He assisted her up the stairs to his apartment and insisted she lay down. He made sure she was comfortable, and he hovered. She gritted her teeth and scowled at him. He offered an innocent look. “What?” “You know what!” she snapped. “Connor you’re driving me crazy. I’m much better, still scared mindless, but not panicky and weepy like yesterday. You don’t have to hover like a mother hen.” “A’isha, if I had been doing my job, been on alert, this wouldn’t have happened to you.” He lifted her chin and planted a kiss on her lips. “She could have—” “Don’t.” She covered his mouth with a fingertip. “Could have but didn’t. I got away. How I found the courage, I don’t know, because I could have wet my drawers.” He burst out laughing despite the seriousness of the situation. “Your drawers?” “Yeah, drawers, smarty pants.” She pulled his hands until he sat down on the bed beside her. “Don’t blame yourself. This is all her, Connor. And me really. If it is Mil...well I’ll deal with that when we know, but I just want to forget everything, forget she threatened to hurt you if I didn’t cooperate, and—” “Whoa, what did you say?” Her eyes widened. “She said she would hurt my boyfriend if I didn’t give her the papers.” A’isha blushed at calling him her boyfriend. He studied her beautiful face, and figured he would like to be. Not just lovers. He wanted to date her, and he would when this was over. For now, he needed to protect her. “When she said that, I would have given her what she wanted.” Her eyelids lowered. “Why?” “Because.” He pushed her chin higher, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Because, huh?” Tracing her soft lips with his tongue, he breathed in her sweetness. He wondered if he would ever

in a million years get enough of her. One way to find out. Careful of her injured wrists, he eased her back against the pillows. “You’ve been hurt. Let me make you feel better.” He pinched the buttons of her shirt open to reveal her lacy white bra. Her breasts swelled above the delicate material making his mouth water and hunger for a taste of her nipples. His shaft grew stiff in his pants, but he welcomed the discomfort, knowing the reward he would soon receive. An animal growl erupted when he had freed her of her blouse and bra, and he bent down and licked a line from her navel, between her breasts to her neck. She quivered under his touch. Not taking his eyes off her luscious body, he ripped his own shirt over his head and tossed it away. She mewled, reaching out to touch him, but he moved out of reach. “Uh-uh. This is all about you for now. When I’ve made you scream a few times, maybe then.” “We can scream together.” She wiggled her brows. He chuckled. He kissed his way down her belly to the band of her pants. Unzipping them, he breathed in her heady scent. She was most certainly ready for him. To test his theory and her reaction, he slipped a hand inside her pants to cup her mound. She opened and closed her legs, unsure whether she wanted to invite him farther or squeeze his hand against her hot center. Connor made the decision for her. He leaned back and slipped her pants off, followed by her panties. Spreading her legs, he took in the view. Sweet come ran down from her opening to caress her ass. He licked his lips, dipped a finger inside her tunnel and pulled it out. He let her watch him suck his finger clean. She squirmed and moaned. “You want me to eat it, baby?” She panted. “Yes!” For a moment, he was distracted by the bandages on both arms as she rested them on her chest. He climbed back up her body and kissed each before gently placing them at her sides. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting.” “I’m okay, Connor.” A shudder went through her. “I’ve never had anyone take care of me, not for a long time anyway. I guess I’m not good at it, but I give it everything I have. It...It feels nice not to worry, even if for a moment.” He took her mouth, dipping his tongue between her lips. She pushed him back, and he frowned. “What?” “You taste like my snatch.” She laughed. “It might get you all hard and ready, but I don’t want to eat myself.”

“No?” He winked. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Not waiting for her comment, he moved to her nipples. Tweaking them, he watched them pucker and tighten into little peaks ready for him to suck. He took in first one, and then the other, running his tongue around the rims, luxuriating in her color and the texture of her skin. Kneading the bud between the roof of his mouth and his tongue, he tugged. A’isha groaned. She ran a hand over his dick, and he nearly exploded at the one touch. Again, he moved out of her reach and unzipped his pants. He watched her take in the sight of his erection, loving how she appreciated his body as much as he did hers. He stroked himself, smeared his pre-come over the tip. She moaned. He coated his finger and leaned over to push it into her mouth. What had he been thinking? That move was all him. His shaft tightened and grew thicker while she worked his finger like she would work his dick. He pulled away. “Woman, if you don’t stop, I’ll come. I said this is about you, and I’m going to keep it that way until I’ve satisfied you.” She shrugged with a grin. Suddenly done with delaying, he gripped her hips and buried his face between her thighs. He plunged his tongue inside her and sucked to his heart’s content. Her juices filled his mouth, and he swallowed, dipping in for more. Running his tongue from the bottom of her moist opening to the top, he lapped until she squirmed. He exerted himself to hold her still. Anticipation built in him when he hovered above her nub. She would come and come hard, he guessed. He clamped down. She screamed. Before he could draw on her bud more than a half dozen times, her thighs quivered, a sure sign she was about to come. She cried out a second time, moaned and fought. Her hips bucked, but he held on, coaxing her to climax. “Connor, I can’t. I can’t. Ah!” She had been wrong. The warm flow coated his chin as he continued to suck her nubbin. He pushed his chin against her opening. She whimpered, grinding against his face. Finally, the spasms eased, and she relaxed, her breathing harsh, the only sound in the room. “Well?” he asked. “Well what?” she grumbled. He laughed. “Have I pleased you?”

“You can be very anal sometimes, Connor. I bet other women have told you that.” She continued to scowl, but the gleam in her eye was unmistakable. Something told him A’isha was just as amazed at how good they fit together, how they matched sexually. If they spent more time together learning about each other, would they fit mentally, emotionally? Carl had to be wrong. He barely knew A’isha, and couldn’t love her this soon. He climbed atop her, letting his dick rest at her soft tunnel. He wanted to ram himself inside, being hungry for satisfaction, but he resisted. Savoring this time with her was more important than him reaching his peak. “I’ve been told that once or twice.” Resting his cheek against hers he whispered. “Do you want me inside you? Do you remember how great it felt, how right for us to be molded together, finding our rhythm?” She groaned. “Just your words set me on fire, Connor. Your body, your touch make me want to bow down and worship you.” “No.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you to worship me. I want you to feel like I’m the only man that can run a thumb over your nipple and make you have an orgasm. The only man to please you.” He kissed her, lingering on her top lip, tasting, savoring. “I want to be the only man with the right to do this.” He entered her. “Connor...” With his hands on either side of her waist, slow and easy, he drove his staff into her passage. And just as deliberate, he pulled out until his swollen head pushed against her nub. Their eyes met. She sniffled, tears in her eyes. I want you to be the woman I can love, A’isha. Repeating the sensuous mating, their bodies merged. He pressed deep, lifting her legs higher. She arched her back, grinding her hips to his. They breathed out hot and heavy. And then they came, together, in synch, needing more than just the physical. “Connor...” she began. “Shh, rest, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Ten She wanted him, lying between her whoring legs. On some level, although she hadn’t been longing for a man, he appealed to her. When she took him captive, she might sample his goods for herself. After she made A’isha suffer for that little stunt she pulled. Thinking about it drove her just short of putting her fist through the window where she watched them. But she held back. No, a plan was better. Sneaking up on him in the dark had been a good move, but he would be ready now. She’d seen him walking A’isha from the car to his house. His hand had never left the gun strapped to his body except to unlock the door. She had heard he turned in his gun and badge, but cops were sneaky. They always had backup weapons. From her vantage point, far out of sight, she had caught him glancing around, peering into the dark corners. He seemed almost to catch her scent in the air at one point. But she would be more careful now. Neither of them were fools. A’isha had especially surprised her with her inner strength. Looking like her feather-headed mother meant nothing. Unlike the bitch she had killed years ago for her betrayal, A’isha was made of sturdier stuff, something to take into account when next she made her move. After they finished making love, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, making her sick to her stomach with all the tenderness. She considered breaking in now to kill them while they were out, but thought better of it. No, she wanted to see the fear and pain in A’isha’s eyes. She needed to break her to force her to confess where the papers were. Then A’isha would die, followed by her boy toy. Then everything would be right. Hearing a car roll up around the front of the house, she tiptoed around to see who it was. The partner, watching the house. Time to go. Time for planning. **** A’isha woke to find herself alone in bed. She sat up. “Connor?” No answer. She prayed he was just in the living room or kitchen, somewhere around the house. Her body may have stopped quaking, but she was still terrified of being alone. That woman could come back at any time. She slipped from the bed and strolled out into the hall. Connor was leaning a shoulder on the wall, his arms folded over his chest. Hearing her, he glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes went wide. “Not alone, A’isha!” A shriek on her lips, she darted her naked plump body back in the room and slammed the door. The fact that she had been confident enough to stroll out there naked, knowing Connor would be able to examine her from head to toe had been a good thing. Now, she was too embarrassed to go back, even dressed. What would the other person out there be thinking of her?

When she didn’t move off the side of the bed for a good twenty minutes, Connor opened the door and shut it behind him. His grin annoyed her. “Feeling shy now?” “Go to hell,” she grumbled. He laughed, and ignored her ugly attitude while he stole kisses along her cheek, neck and nipples. “Stop it, you’ll have me all hot,” she complained. Dragging her hand to the rock in his pants, he said, “Too late for me.” She pulled away. “Who was out there? I’m embarrassed. I should have thought before I acted.” “Save it for when you know we’re alone.” He winked. “I’d love to enjoy the view while you walk around my house.” He teased her a little longer, then moved to lean on the edge of the dresser. “I understand how you feel, baby, but unfortunately, you have no choice.” “What do you mean?” “Carl’s located Mildred Servant. She had moved around a lot without leaving much of a trail behind her. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” He shrugged. “Anyway, we’re going over to her last known address to check it out. I insisted on going along, and I’m not leaving you alone. So get dressed.” A’isha popped into the shower for the briefest wash she’d ever taken and then had to spend another fifteen minutes dodging Connor’s grabby hands before she was dressed and ready to go. Finally, they were out the door with A’isha very unhappy about Carl having caught her at Connor’s house. Sure he hadn’t seen A’isha naked, but he might as well have. If he let Connor’s boss know about it, he might never get his job back, and worse, they might both be arrested. She would never forgive herself if she ruined his life. On the Southside of town was where those who couldn’t afford much lived. If they could, they would have moved away long before now. A’isha had often thought she was just a step from that fate. The neighborhoods were not a good place to visit during the day, less so at night. Drug activity was a given, and the news stations had quit reporting on all the murders that happened down that way. Mildred’s house was on one of the worst streets. As Connor opened the car door for her and offered her his hand to get out, A’isha considered how far down the woman had fallen. Sure she had a house, but the place was in major disrepair with many of the windows boarded up. Trash littered the yard, and the gate leading in was busted. Carl glanced at Connor and then kicked it. The entire piece fell over with crash to the ground.

A’isha frowned. “Are you sure someone lives here? It looks abandoned.” Carl shrugged. “An electric bill was paid in person by Mildred Servant as early as two days ago.” She gasped. “Damn, y’all are good.” He reddened, looking pleased with the compliment. Connor threaded his fingers between A’isha’s, unprofessional, she knew, but didn’t care. His eyes scanned the area, and he held his shoulders stiff. She found herself wishing he hadn’t had to give up his weapon when he was suspended. In the movies and TV shows policemen had a smorgasbord of guns. When she had suggested as much to Connor, he’d looked at her like she was an idiot. But he hadn’t denied having a second weapon either. She remembered he had kept his hand at his side where he used to wear his gun when he brought her home from the hospital. Holding her on the other side, he had blocked her view, so she couldn’t be sure if he had a second weapon. Picking their way over broken stairs, they ascended to the front door, and using the same method that had worked before, Carl kicked the door. Not that he had any other option. The wood was weathered enough to have splinters, and the bell hung from frayed wires. This time the barrier held. “Is this gothic or what?” A’isha mused. Connor shuffled her around behind him. Looking over her shoulder, she thought she was no safer in that position. Anyone could come by and ... She pushed the thought away and waited. No answer after four more forceful kicks that seemed to rattle the foundations. Carl drew his weapon. “Stand back,” he muttered a little too dramatic for A’isha’s taste. The rickety lock shattered, and the door flew in so hard, the top hinge soon matched the doorbell. “Police! Mrs. Servant?” They shuffled inside, Connor forcing her to stay well behind. He cast her a stern look. “Stay right here by the door, but not visible from the street. Got it?” She shook her head. “No. I’m not staying over here. Have you ever been in a neighborhood like this, Connor? People on the street see a door busted in, and they come to see what they can grab before the cops come. I’m staying with you whether you like it or not.” He frowned. “Fine, but don’t touch anything. I mean it. You shouldn’t get your fingerprints anywhere.” Her eyes grew wide until they hurt. Her throat dried up. Oh goodness, why hadn’t she thought of that? If it turned out Mil was involved with Cammie’s murder, she could get

herself implicated with Mil if they found evidence she was here. The only consolation was that Carl knew she was with him when he arrived. She just hoped the fancy stuff done on TV wasn’t real, like finding a microscopic piece of something to grab DNA from. She could be incriminating herself just by coming today. The first floor turned up empty. So did the second. Carl was headed to the rickety stairs with Connor and then A’isha behind him. A’isha couldn’t wait to get out of there. The place was creepy, and smelled stale. She could have sworn she heard rats overhead and couldn’t shake the image of one falling down on her shoulder. Her stomach churned. At the top of the stairs, she stumbled on the area rug and fell against Connor’s back. Her muscled lover easily held her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Wow, you’re strong,” she grinned, inches from his mouth. “You saved my life. I would have hurtled down the steps.” He ran the tip of his tongue along her lower lip. A shiver travelled over her body. Connor nuzzled her cheek. “That’s what I’m here for.” Carl cleared his throat, and A’isha jumped to attention, releasing Connor. When she glanced up, her gaze fell on the ceiling above the stairs. She pointed. “What’s that?” Both men stopped. Carl, closer, reached up to grab hold of the thick rope hanging from the ceiling and pulled. Another set of stairs sprung down, stairs that when fully resting on the ones they occupied were shown to be covered in blood. In a split second, Connor spun A’isha around and marched her back up the steps. “Carl, close those so we can get down. I’m taking her outside to the car. A’isha would have protested, but her stomach wouldn’t allow it. As it was, she fought against hurling up the bagel they’d stopped long enough to buy on the way over here. Once in the car, she lifted her chin to let Connor kiss her, and he punched the locks with a tight expression on his face. “Stay put, and keep it locked. I promise I won’t be long. Anyone come near, yell for me.” He kissed her again and jogged back inside the house. How could anyone stand facing such horror every day? When A’isha thought she might scream for Connor just to get out of the car, he strolled out of the door with Carl at his side, barking into his phone. A’isha jumped from the car and ran up to him. “What’s happening?” He looked grim. “This Mildred Servant—she light brown skinned”—he waved a finger back and forward over his top lip—“semi-thick mustache and a penchant for wearing bad wigs?” A’isha swayed. Connor wrapped an arm around her waist. “Yes, that sounds like her.”

“Someone murdered her.” Connor sighed. “We’re still running our investigation, but I’d say it’s a sure bet she was not involved in Cammie’s murder.” A’isha buried her face in Connor’s chest. She shuddered. “I never liked her much. She and my mother were always arguing, but I would never want her dead. And what connection could it have to me?” She glanced up. “It doesn’t, does it? Just a coincidence?” He rubbed her back and turned away to speak with Carl, but she yanked his arm to force him to face her. “What aren’t you telling me, Connor?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut before answering. “Carl noticed something clutched in her hand. It was a flyer for your shop.” She shrugged. “So? That was one of my many attempts to get more customers. I had like a thousand of those stupid things printed up only to get little or no return on investment. I don’t know. I think I have a black thumb or something. I have no luck in business.” “A’isha.” He pulled her close and slanted a hand over her mouth to stop her monologue. “The flyer had a circle, lined over many times around your phone number. And hand written was a note that said ‘Call A’isha to warn her’. Still think it’s unrelated?” The blood rushed from her head. “No. No, not at all.” **** “Why are we here, Connor?” A’isha complained. “I’ve come to hate this place, and I made the decision last night to sell. Not that I expect to get much if anything. I have a huge amount of debt to pay off behind this money pit!” Her words were harsh and uncaring, but Connor gave her a knowing look. He knew she was putting on a brave face. This was her mother’s place, and she had failed to keep the dream alive. Shame made her want to curl into a ball and cry her eyes out, but instead, she pretended none of it mattered. As they say, she was broke, busted and disgusted. “We should have come here long before now,” Connor informed her. “The mystery woman was looking to get inside this room you claim is where your mother locked away her prized recipes. We should have searched it from the start.” A’isha grumbled while placing her freshly-baked chocolate chip scones with bananas mixed in on the counter. See if she would make his ass another treat after his insinuation about her mother’s recipes. “Don’t believe me if you don’t want to, but I know what my mother told me, and I’ve been in that room. It’s nothing but piles of old books with hand-

written recipes in them. She kept them in themes like Western or Mexican or formal gatherings, like that.” He brushed her hands away from the plate of treats and helped himself to one. “Mmm, perfect as I thought, and still warm.” Pointing a half eaten treat at her, he spoke with his mouth full. “Have you considered turning your mother’s recipes into cookbooks and getting them published? If you mother was half the baker you are, you’d make a fortune.” A’isha’s heart skittered for a moment then went back to normal. She blushed. “Thanks. And I’ve thought about it at my most desperate times, but I felt guilty.” “You should seriously think about it, A’isha. Maybe you’re right, the business end of baking isn’t for you, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up what you love.” He took her into his arms. A’isha kissed crumbs from the corners of his mouth. Damn, he was beautiful. “I’ve thought about teaching too,” she admitted, her eyes cast down. “Another great idea.” He put her out of his arms. “But first we solve this bigger problem. And I will stay right by your side as we do it.” He lifted her chin, his eyes dark blue and serious. “I will still be here, if you want me, when it’s over to help you choose the path you want most.” Now her heart did pound. Was he saying what she thought he was? She didn’t dare believe it. After the killer was caught was soon enough. She was still going to sell the bakery, but Connor had suggested a great alternative to finding some lame job she didn’t want. Someone else validating the idea of making her mother’s work into cookbooks seemed to make it a little more okay to do. And on top of that, he was offering himself. Life was not as bad a she thought. “Okay, let’s get started. The sooner this is over, the better.”

Chapter Eleven For all A’isha’s going on and on about her mother’s secret work, Connor didn’t know what he expected to be in the storage closet once she unlocked it. Racks lined the walls on either side with four shelves each. Two rows of both were stacked with thick notebooks. They weren’t the composition type, but what looked like handmade stacks of thick paper, hole-punched and tied together with lacey ribbon. The sight of them made him wonder if her mother wasn’t much more of a business woman than she was. All of it would have gone on a single CD. “This is it?” he wondered aloud, forgetting that she thought this place was as valuable as Fort Knox. Her hands sprung up to her ample hips, making his gaze zero in on her ass. A vision of him riding that round delight the night before flashed through his mind. His dick swelled. “What do you mean, ‘this is it’?” she demanded. “Look at all these. They’re treasure.” “But hardly worth killing for, baby.” He pulled her resisting into his arms and kissed her neck. “I’m sorry, A’isha, but there must be something more. Besides, you said yourself that the killer referred to papers, not books. If she meant these, surely she would have said the recipes?” Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right. Okay, where do we start?” He moved around her into the room. “Do these racks come out or are they attached to the walls. If they aren’t, we can move them into the kitchen and check the walls for any secret compartments.” He stomped in various places on the floor. “Might be a secret basement too.” She laughed. “Not so secret. It’s down there. The entrance is through the other closet. It’s all gross spiders, darkness and dust down there. My mother never used it. She said it was too unsanitary.” He snickered. “So it’s safe to say she wouldn’t use it to hide something she wanted no one to find?” “Uh...yeah!” She rolled her eyes, and he slapped her ass. Any excuse to get his hands on her. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was lay her out on the counter, and fill her with his rock hard erection. “Connor, will you get your mind out of the gutter and help me with this?” He looked up to find her dragging on one of the racks. Metal scraped on cement floor and made his teeth ache. Trying to speak while clenching his jaw was difficult. “What makes you think my mind was in the gutter?” The rack wasn’t nearly as heavy as she let on.

“Because your eyes were riveted to my rear. Now keep your mind on your work. This is about you, too. I...we...have to figure this all out so you can get your job back.” He stopped dragging the rack and disengaged her fingers from it as well. Turning her to face him, he drew her close and guided her head to his shoulder. “You feel you’re responsible for me getting suspended.” “Yes.” “I told you it’s not your fault.” He tipped her head up and stared into those melted chocolate eyes. For a moment, he thought he could drown in them and never wished to be saved, but he shook the thought away. “This person we’re looking for is entirely to blame. It’s not your responsibility to solve this case. It’s mine.” “Actually, it’s Carl’s now. He...” “It’s mine, A’isha.” Her soft mouth under his tasted right. “I will work it out, got it, woman?” He raised an eyebrow, and she gave a reluctant nod. “Good. Now back to work.” “Yes, general!” He tried to swat her rear, but she ducked out of reach. He had to be satisfied to watch as she sauntered back into the store room. As she removed the books to the counter in the kitchen, handling each with tender care, she appeared thoughtful. “I think you should call your sister and make up,” she announced. Connor stiffened, compressed his lips and said nothing. “Family is everything. I wish my mother was still here with me and that my brother wasn’t thousands of miles away. Sometimes I wake up wondering if this is the day I’ll get that call that tells me he’s been injured or...worse.” He nodded. “I can understand that. It’s a real possibility, a rational fear. But Jill works as an accountant. She’s young. Last time I checked, her pastime could cause a person to fall asleep just hearing about it.” He knew he was making dumb excuses that no one was guaranteed tomorrow, but for some immature, flashback from his preteen years, he had thought his sister would always be there for him. She’d chosen the wrong man and didn’t believe him when he had brought it to her attention. Instead, she pushed him away, told him to forget she existed. That both pissed him off and other feelings he was not willing to explore too deeply. Figuring A’isha would push about his sister, he was surprised when she turned the conversation. “So what about your parents?”

“Determined aren’t we?” He shrugged. “Nothing much to tell there. Dad contracted cancer when he was seventy-two.” Pausing, he wondered how he thought he could be flippant about it. Sure, it had been a few years, but even now, the emotions roiled inside him, tightening his chest. He blew out a breath and glanced up at the ceiling. A’isha touched his arm. He pretended not to feel it. Clearing his throat, he continued. “He suffered long and hard. After he passed, Mom faded quickly. She joined him not five months later.” “Connor, I’m so sorry.” She drew him into her arms. He didn’t resist. There was no sense hurting her feelings when she wanted to comfort him, but he did not like talking about his parents. She commiserated. “I didn’t know my dad, so you were blessed, but my mother was perfect!” Her silly grin teased the ache in his chest away. “I miss her so much, I could scream it out, but I also smile, because she was...the best. Eccentric, funny, an amazing cook, and my brother and I worshipped the ground she walked on.” Connor had never imagined anyone could burst into a speech of the perfection of a parent, with joy even, knowing they were talking about someone they had lost, wouldn’t see again. Most men he knew would react like he did, hurt, but fight and hide it. The women would tear up. A’isha was different. He felt a little like calling her perfect herself. Maybe she was just like her mother. Something told him she wouldn’t agree. “How did she go?” “Heart failure. It came on suddenly, but then when does anyone know ahead of time?” Tears filled her eyes. Connor guided her to a chair, sat down and tucked her onto his lap. He rubbed her back while she indulged in a little cry. Now that was more natural. But she bounced back quickly. “I had this dream last night. I’m not one of those people who get guidance from their dreams, but this one was special.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I felt like my mother was telling me it’s okay. I don’t have to feel guilty about losing the bakery.” “Any decisions on where to go from here?” She glanced at the dusty tomes on the table. “I’m starting to like your cookbook idea.” “Good.” He flipped her off his lap and onto her feet. “Now, let’s finish this. I’ll get the other rack out, and you knock on the walls.” **** By lunchtime, they had found nothing. The store room was barren with all its supplies on the table or floor in the kitchen. Connor had stood on chairs to bang on the walls out of reach. Still nothing. His stomach growled, demanding they take a lunch break. “I call a break,” Connor announced. “Over sandwiches or something we can think up a new strategy. That new deli down the street looks promising.”

A’isha hesitated. “I’m not—” “Going to pay.” He kissed her. “My treat. Let’s go. I could eat a large animal—raw!” She stood up from the dusty floor inside the closet and brushed her pants legs down. “Okay, I’m not going to argue with you. I’m starving myself.” As she passed the books, she ran a reverent hand over one and headed toward the sink. Connor stood behind her, close, breathing in her scent while he waited his turn. While he considered nibbling her neck, another thought occurred to him. “We’re looking for papers, which could be anywhere, but did you ever look through each of these books. The papers could be tucked between the pages.” She dismissed the idea with the wave of her hand. “Trust me. I’ve gone through every one, just enjoying my mother’s unique style, the sometimes zany comments she put in with each recipe. I’ve turned all of those pages a hundred times over the last few years. Nothing’s there other than the recipes.” He frowned. The books had seemed to be the perfect location. “Oh well. It was a thought.” He dried his hands on the towel she handed him while strolling over to the table. After tossing the towel on the table, he stretched his arms above his head, forcing the muscles on one side to expand and then the other. When he bent forward to arch his back, his glance fell on words, faded but visible at the bottom right corner of one of the books. Sliding the two books aside, which were atop the one he was interested in, he took a closer look. They were words, just as he thought, a dedication of sorts. “For Selena,” he read and looked up. “Who is Selena?” “What?” A’isha turned to face him. “Selena.” He pointed to the book. “On the bottom of this particular book is written ‘To Selena.’ Any idea who she is?” A’isha crinkled her nose and shuffled over to take a look. “No, I’ve never heard my mother mention her. Maybe she was an old friend of my mother’s. I have some old papers of my mother’s at my house. Maybe there’ll be something in there about her.” Connor glared at her like she’d lost her mind. “You have papers that belonged to your mother, and you failed to mention that sooner than now?” She laughed. “Sorry, grumpy hungry man.” She stroked his belly which did not alleviate his hunger a bit. “It’s mostly bills and other paperwork for the bakery, the bill of sale, the license, et cetera. But I can look through it again to see if I find a reference to Selena. Okay, let’s go before you have a cow.”

I’m not going to have a cow,” he grumbled. Soon they were ensconced at a table at the deli, and Connor wasted no time in ordering a hot brisket on sourdough with a side of potato salad and a large half and half. A’isha ordered a chicken quesadilla with fresh chips and homemade salsa on the side. Like him she had ordered a half and half. “Okay, they claim the chips and salsa are fresh and delicious. I consider myself a connoisseur in that department, so they better be.” She laughed, but he knew she was serious. “A’isha, what do you think about moving in with me?” “Ah!” Her eyes went wide. “Where did that come from? Connor, we’ve only been seeing each other a short while, and under awful circumstances. That’s not a good idea right now.” He twiddled with his drink, catching the condensation along the sides with his thumbs. “Not now exactly, but after this is cleared up.” He sighed. “I should be honest with you.” “You weren’t before?” “I was. It’s just...” “Just?” “A few months ago, I almost lost my job because a female suspect filed a complaint, said that I had come on to her and insinuated she could get off my suspect list if she...you know.” A’isha stared, but remained silent. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, whether she thought he was depraved or just a victim of a sadistic woman.” “Turns out that she was innocent, which made the whole incident unnecessary and vindictive.” “And you?” She picked up a chip from her bowl having been just set before her and dipped it into the salsa. “Me? Yes, I was innocent too. She came on to me. I rejected her. She took it hard.” He shrugged. “I think my boss would have brushed the whole thing off and wouldn’t have given a damn, except for the fact that his ex-wife and I...” “Connor!”

“Had a short thing before they ever met,” he finished. “I am not a womanizer. I know that sounds bad, but I haven’t had a lot of relationships, but what I have had is one mistake after another. And when I’m not choosing, they fall in my lap.” He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if she remembered their first meeting, in the park, when she had stood in the middle of the path. “If I recall, Romeo, you ran into me.” “Semantics.” “Anyway, I understand what you’re saying, and I believe you when you say you’ve had bad breaks with women. I know all about that, the few I’ve had as well. But that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t be making a mistake if we rushed things.” She glanced around the restaurant, pausing to look out the window and then back at him. “I feel like we can have something pretty good, but there’s so much between us and building it, we can’t be sure.” “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” He laced his fingers with hers. “However, let me warn you, A’isha. I see a beautiful woman that is more than I’ve ever imagined in sweetness and sexual appeal. I had nothing to do with finding you, but I am going to hold on to you now that you’re here. I promise you that.” She blushed, stirring something inside him. He considered forgetting about the rest of the search and taking her back to his place to make love to her, and then just to hold her in his arms. Before he could make the suggestion, she paled, having turned back to the picture window at the front of the restaurant. “Connor, there’s someone out there watching us.”

Chapter Twelve The woman had been there a moment before, but when A’isha turned to tell Connor, and they both spun around to look again, she was gone. “I swear, she was there, Connor.” A shiver caused goose bumps to pop out on her arms. “There was something about her. She was standing there on the other side of the street.” Connor scraped his chair back and took her hand to lead her outside. They searched the area, but everyone seemed to be going about their business, oblivious to Connor and A’isha. He took her hands in his. “What did she look like? What race?” “African American. She was brown-skinned, tall and thin. Her hair was really long, and even though she was on the other side of the street by that van there”—she pointed out the one she meant—“I could still tell there was this evil look in her eyes. You think I’m crazy?” “Of course not.” He shook his head and drew her close. “Remember, we’re looking for a woman, the person who grabbed you. If she is looking for some important papers, we’d do better finding them and having something to bargain with, something to draw her to come to us.” A buzz in A’isha’s pocket distracted her. She pulled out her cell and examined the caller ID. The screen flashed Private Caller. She rolled her eyes. Normally, she didn’t answer such calls. If a person wanted to speak with her, they should show respect and be open. She answered anyway. “Hello?” “Aisha.” Her heart slammed against her chest. She held the phone straight out and had to force herself to hold onto it and not drop it in the gutter. Teeth chattering too much, she couldn’t speak. Connor glanced down at her. “What’s wrong? Who is it?” When she didn’t say anything, he took the phone and put it up to his ear. “Hello? Who is this? Hello?” From her short distance, A’isha heard the signal of a dropped connection. When Connor handed the phone back, it buzzed again. He answered with no one speaking to him the second time. “I-It’s her,” A’isha whispered. “I recognize her voice.” She shook so hard, Connor had to hold her up. He shuffled her back inside the restaurant door, and they stood in the lobby. A waiter hovered nearby, probably ready to pounce should they run off without paying for their food. Connor flicked up the end of his shirt at his belt and then yanked it down with a sigh of frustration. A’isha imagined he had been about to flash his badge, but remembered he didn’t have it anymore. Guilt closed her throat even more.

The cell phone rang for the third time. A’isha stared at Connor, not answering. “What should I do?” He flipped it open and handed it to her. “Answer. I want to see what she has to say, but I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, so you don’t have to be afraid.” “Easier said than done.” She pressed the button to open the connection and lifted the phone to her ear, all the while her stomach churning. The few bites of her food threatened to come spewing back at any second. “Hello?” “That’s better.” It was the same woman. “Now, listen carefully, A’isha. I’m tired of waiting for what I want. The papers. Bring them to me.” “Why should I?” She must be crazy for antagonizing this woman. There was no telling what papers she wanted in the first place, and to act like she knew was a mistake. What choice did she have? The woman laughed, a hallow sound that sent shivers of fear coursing over A’isha’s body. “Bring me the papers that your mother kept for me, A’isha, or I will come for him...First I will ride him like you enjoy doing in that big bed with the green silk sheets, and then I will kill him slowly.” A’isha screamed. This time, she really did drop the phone. Or rather she ran outside the restaurant and threw it out into the middle of the road. A car passing by crunched it beneath its front tires and kept rolling down the street. She didn’t stop screaming until Connor gripped her arms and shook her. “A’isha, easy! What did she say? Tell me!” He kissed her eyes, her cheeks and her lips so much, she could scarcely get a word out. She broke free of his hold. “She’s been watching us, Connor.” The contents of her mouth spewed from her lips. Connor bent her over the gutter and rubbed her back. When she had caught her breath, she explained between sobs. “She’s been watching us have sex. She even knew the color of your sheets. I can’t do this. I can’t do this! I’ve never been so scared in my life. Connor, please!” “Shh. It’s okay.” He used a handkerchief he had pulled out from somewhere to wipe her mouth, and then led her back inside the restaurant where he paid their bill. A’isha allowed herself to be led from point to point, her mind too fried to make any decisions of her own for the time being. Finally, Connor hurried her up the street to the shop. He stood like a sentinel over her while she locked up, and they slipped into his car. A’isha listened with only half her attention to him speaking to Carl on his cell phone. She had always thought she was a strong woman who could handle anything that came her way. Hell, she’d escaped almost on her own from Cammie’s killer when she’d been kidnapped. Maybe that was just it.

After all of that, along with being the one to find Cammie, the woman was still out there, threatening to hurt Connor. A’isha glanced over at him. Every part of her was attracted to him. He was patient and kind, sexy, great in bed, a man in uniform. On top of that, he was attracted to her in return, had staked his claim on her. Yet, here was this woman she didn’t know coming out of nowhere, wanting to ruin all of that. No! A’isha might be scared mindless, but she couldn’t let it happen. She just couldn’t. Giving Connor up was not an option. For the first time, she realized why he had jeopardized his job for her. It had begun in the park, although he probably didn’t realize it. That first spark, the first inkling that you’d stumbled on the person who will be the one. Things had moved fast with them, but that wasn’t unheard of. She knew of a couple of women who had had it happen that way for them. Here they were fifty years later, still married to the same man and crazy in love. Anyone who thought it couldn’t happen, well, they could kiss her ass. She was living it. Or she would. They would overcome this situation. They had to. **** At her house, A’isha headed upstairs to shower and change, and dig something out for Connor to wear. While she wasn’t small, he was much larger. Her biggest T-shirt stretched across his massive chest and had her wanting to rip it off him to get at his body. But this wasn’t the time. He settled on the tee and a sheet wrapped around his narrow hips after his shower while A’isha stuffed his things in the washing machine. Connor spent his time on the phone with Carl and making other phone calls, while A’isha settled at her desk lamenting the loss of her computer. Playing solitaire and listening to music had always helped her relax. Now that her computer was busted, she had only the music. She had pulled out all her oldies but goodies, and her shoulders were just beginning to ease down an hour after she and Connor arrived at her house. “Baby, pull up MSNBC really quick. I want to check the news,” Connor said as he paced in the limited space of her bedroom. She was already missing his house. Although she had pulled it up, he’d gone back to his conversation and wasn’t paying attention. A’isha sighed, leaned on one fist and stared unseeing at the headline. Her eyes crossed, and her lids drooped for a moment and then popped open. She sat up straight. “Selena Goode, escaped mental patient, has been spotted near...” A’isha streaked. Connor was on her in seconds. “What is it? What’s wrong?” A’isha pointed. “Selena Goode,” she whispered. He squinted at the screen. “Might be a coincidence, but we’ll check it out.” He spoke into the phone. “Carl, the escape mental patient...yeah... you’ve heard about her, good. Listen, we found that name, Selena, on a cookbook at A’isha’s shop. See if there’s any

connection between the two. Just in case, I think I’m going to go down to the hospital where she escaped from and see if I can find anything out there. I can’t sit here twiddling my thumbs. She’s getting antsy, and I’m afraid of what she’ll do next.” A’isha was getting antsy herself. When Connor disconnected the call, she spoke up. “I’m going with you.” “A’isha...” The warning in his tone let her know they were about to disagree. His cell interrupted. “Yeah!” he barked into the phone, and then his blue eyes widened, the color leaving his cheeks. “Jill.” This time when he hung up, he said nothing. She dared to ask. “What’s up?” “My sister.” He shook his head in disbelief. “My sister, the one I told you hasn’t spoken to me in years?” She flicked an eyebrow up at him. “The only one?” “Yeah. She’s sitting outside at my house right now.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Damn, this is a day, huh? Come on, baby, pack a bag with some changes of clothes so you can stay at my place. Are my clothes dry? I don’t want to see my sister after so long dressed in a sheet.” A’isha grinned. “Funny.” **** The drive over to Connor’s house was done in silence. A’isha tried massaging Connor’s shoulders, but the tension there seemed determined to stay. When they pulled up to his driveway, a black BMW was already parked in it. The woman had money, or her husband did. Connor took his time getting out, as did Jill. A’isha studied her. She was the spitting image of her brother, except with longer hair dyed almost red and the curves of a woman. The dark rings around her eyes spoke their own story. Something told A’isha Connor had been right, and after all this time, Jill knew it too. He strolled up to her, and they met at the back end of her car. Like two childhood playmates, they held hands and touched foreheads. Jill was almost as tall as Connor. “Well, sis?” he asked. She didn’t answer. Her bottom lip quivered, and her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were dry. A’isha wondered what the woman did for a living and remember Connor had said she was an accountant. She was tough that was apparent.

“We should move inside,” A’isha suggested. She tugged her bag out of the trunk, but Connor hurried to grab it from her. When he had gathered Jill’s as well, they all trouped into the house. A’isha reached for her suitcase. “I’ll give you two some time to talk.” “No, wait.” Connor pulled her to his side. “Jill, this is A’isha. She’s staying with me.” “Oh.” Jill’s mouth grew round. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I can stay in a hotel. I don’t want to get in the way.” “Why should you be in the way? I have two extra bedrooms. I just wanted you to meet her and for her to meet you.” He sighed. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, we can talk in private, but at this point, I’m not keeping anything from her.” A’isha shook at the import of his words. He was serious. How many women searched for a man who would have no problem committing? It scared her, sure, but it was also exhilarating. “More than a lover then,” Jill commented. Neither A’isha nor Connor said anything more. Jill twisted her fingers together. “I’m okay with you telling her, but I’m so embarrassed.” “Say no more.” A’isha held up her hands. She patted Jill’s arm. “I’m glad to meet you. I’ll be in the bedroom. And don’t worry. You look like a really strong person. I believe you can pull through whatever you’re dealing with.” “Thank you, A’isha.” Jill pulled her in for a quick hug, before A’isha walked back to Connor’s bedroom. While she cleared space for her things inside Connor’s dresser drawer, she heard yelling and paused. Connor was fussing at his sister. She stood to go demand he show a little sensitivity but stopped. This situation was none of her business, and at least the two of them were speaking again after so long. Still she couldn’t help overhearing their conversation with the elevated voices. “I warned you, Jill,” Connor yelled. “Now you see the truth after all these years. And you want to have his baby?” “I have no choice. I’m pregnant. I didn’t know I was going to walk in on him and his lover!” A’isha cringed. That hurt like hell under any circumstances. To find out her man wanted another man instead of her was a worse blow. Then again, maybe he went both ways. “You knew, damn it! You knew, but you didn’t want to see the signs.” Connor’s voice was tight with emotion. A’isha couldn’t figure out why he was so angry. He should be relieved that his sister had finally seen the truth.

“Some of us can’t have kids, and you have a baby with an asshole who couldn’t give a flying fuck one way or the other. I don’t understand you, Jill. I just don’t get it!” A’isha dropped the blouse she held in her hands and sank down to her knees on the carpet. Shock flooded her system. Connor’s words replayed in her mind over and over. “Some of us can’t have kids...” Could he mean him? He couldn’t have kids? She and Connor were nowhere near talking about having children together, but after they were deep in love with one another was not the time to do it either. Now, when maybe she could think about it with a clear head, he should have told her. With all that was happening, he would not have found the time. Still, overhearing it wasn’t a great way to find out. The front room had gone quiet. Feeling eyes on her, A’isha glanced up. Connor stood in the doorway. “You heard?” She nodded. “We’ll talk. I promise,” he said. “I should have said something, but I wasn’t sure if you and I...” “I know.” “When I get back. I would like to get down to that hospital before it gets too late.” “I understand. Go.” She sighed. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Chapter Thirteen Connor didn’t know what to expect when he drove down to City Hospital two towns over. What he found terrified and shocked him. He prayed Carl would find out what the connection was between Selena and A’isha’s mother. “Detective Pierce?” He turned from surveying Selena’s hospital mates walking along the sanitarium’s paths outside the office window. “Yes?” The administrator held out the envelope he had been searching for in a file cabinet. “This is what we found hidden in Selena’s room. They’re recipes. I thought they were not important, but didn’t want to dispose of them for when she is found. But something made me go back over them last night.” Connor took the offered folder and flipped through the sheets. He didn’t see anything of interest on a glance either. “What did you find?” The man dropped down in his chair, weariness making his facial skin appear gray. “Page twelve, second recipe. Read it.” “Cinnamon, sugar...” Connor stopped, his blood running cold. He blinked several times, hoping his mind was playing tricks on him, fearing it wasn’t. “Antimony. Where the fuck would she get antimony?” “That, detective, is what I would like to know. We supply the ingredients for our patients who enjoy cooking. Some of the counselors feel it is therapeutic for them to bake or help out with making meals for the others. They are kept under strict watch, and no patient exhibiting tendencies toward violence to themselves or others are allowed in the program. Until she escaped, Selena had been on her best behavior, never causing trouble.” “Did you find anyone with symptoms matching antimony poisoning?” The man shook his head. “Not a one. I have to think she either didn’t get to use the poison or never intended to use it here before she escaped.” Connor closed his eyes, thinking. Rather than jump to conclusions, his habit was to think through each and every possible direction a killer might take, to think like him or her. After, or even during, that process, he took things one step at a time, working his way through the killer’s steps. “What I need to know is, did she at any time make this recipe, if she ever had any visitors and who among the patients and staff were closest to her. I need this information ASAP.” “Of course, detective. Right away.”

Connor questioned more people than he cared to in the next few hours. The person he most wanted to talk to was the woman in charge of the patients when they worked in the kitchen. Unfortunately, she was out sick. Worried, Connor inquired about her symptoms but was told she’d had foot surgery. That was unrelated. He would just have to visit her home later. As he strolled along a hall behind a nurse who was to lead him to Selena’s room, he paused to listen to and watch a young man working with a patient in a living area. If he didn’t miss his guess, the woman was attracted to the man, and he knew it. Each time he flipped his hair back from his forehead, the patient swallowed, as if the act alone cut off her breath. Connor smirked and moved on. Probably an intern. He searched Selena’s room, but there was nothing to be found, no markings on the wall, no secret compartments. As he stooped examining the floor and wondering about his next move, a knock sounded on the open door. He glanced up. The same nurse stood in the doorway, a smile aimed to allure spread across her pretty face. Connor was happy to find even while she did fit his profile of a desirable woman, he didn’t want her. A’isha was everything he needed. “Yes?” He stood and strolled toward her, his expression letting her know he wasn’t interested. With a disappointed frown, she extended a sheet of paper out to him. “This is the visitor’s list for Selena Goode. I hope you’ll find it useful.” She turned to go, but Connor stopped her with a light touch to her arm. He drew back as if burned. She reddened. “I’m not poisonous,” she muttered, which he considered to be a poor choice of words. “I might need you to identify anyone on the list.” He perused it quickly and pointed to a name. “Any idea who Ida Wellington is or Joel Stevens?” The nurse shook her head. “I don’t know who Ida Wellington is, but Joel is our intern.” “Why would your intern visit Selena?” She waved her hand. “Oh, Joel is a good kid. The ladies love him, even the really off ones.” She rolled her eyes. Connor didn’t find it funny, and she dropped the humor. “He probably had to sign in on the guest list since he wasn’t working that particular day, and he’s not a full time employee.” He let her go after that. His best bet was to head back to the front and question the woman at the front desk for a description of Ida Wellington. He bet anything it was a false name. As for the intern, he planned to question him right now. “Joel?” he called when he reached the living area again. Blue eyes met his and immediately became wary. His instincts were still functional. Something was up with this guy. Connor could feel it. “Detective Pierce. I need to talk to you for a few moments.”

Joel came, if reluctantly. Inside a private sitting room, Connor cut to the chase. “What was your relationship with Selena Goode?” “What?” Various emotions flitted over Joel’s face, from anger to acceptance, and back again. Finally, he spoke the truth, which Connor didn’t expect without a battle of wits. “We were lovers.” “Come again?” “We were lovers. You know.” He shrugged. “It’s easier than you think in here. The nurses battle patients who want to fight or who try to skip their meds all day. So when I offer to look after this one or that calm one, they leave me alone. Selena is...well, she’s beautiful for a head case. She came onto me, not the other way around.” “As if that matters? What else do you want to tell me?” Connor had been about to inform Joel that he had broken the law, but hesitated. There was more here than just sex. He was sure of it. He paced to the door and looked out through the window in the center. As much as he tried to appear calm, Connor saw the tension, the fear tightening his muscles. With a little pressure, Joel would snap and tell him all. From Selena’s records, she was thirty-five years old and had been in the hospital for about nineteen years. Poor woman had spent all of her adult life locked up. “I don’t have anything else to add. That’s it. Selena is a consenting adult, and so am I. So what?” “Selena has been deemed incompetent to make choices for her life. Therefore, you had no right to do anything with her. Now, I am going to find out what else you’ve been up to, Joel.” Connor was sure to tower over the intern, to be his most intimidating. “And when I do, if I find you haven’t told me everything, I will use my influence to charge you to the fullest extent of the law.” “It was Katherine!” he blurted. “Who?” Connor stopped with his hand on the doorknob to leave the room. “Katherine Jacks, the nurse on 2D. Selena said Katherine and she were good friends, that Katherine brought her things from the outside as Selena put it.” He looked guilty. “She used to tell me things when we were...you know.” Now Connor swung to face him fully. “What other things did she tell you?” The intern’s eyes jerked left and right, anywhere but focusing on Connor’s face. “Nothing you’d be interested in.”

“Try me.” “She used to say that I’m the only one that wants her. She said the world threw her away, and that’s why she’ll get her revenge.” Connor ran his hands through his hair. All he wanted to do was beat all of the truth out this...boy! Why the hell couldn’t he just spit it all out? Why did he give him pieces? If he had his badge, he would have arrested him by now, but as it was he’d gotten in purely from Carl’s phone call vouching for him. His gut told him this was coming to a head. Somehow he needed to put the pieces together and fast. His cell rang. He yanked it out and pointed a finger at Joel to wait. His heartbeat picked up seeing it was A’isha. A vision of her chocolate beauty slipped into his mind, teasing him. The moment he finished things here, he’d rush back and get himself another long and unhurried taste of her. “Baby? Everything okay?” he breathed into the phone. “Connor.” He heard the relief in her voice. “I just wanted to be sure you were okay. It’ll be dark in another hour. Will you be finished soon and headed back?” “I will. Don’t worry. Soon I’ll be there all over you, and you’ll wish I’d give you a break.” He laughed, hoping she wouldn’t feel that way. “Don’t be stupid, man.” She laughed. “I can’t wait to get me some of you. But truthfully, I’m scared. I don’t like you out there. She threatened to hurt you. If anything happens to you...” “It won’t. I’m safe. I promise.” He glanced up in time to find Joel trying to sneak away. Connor caught him by the back of his shirt. “Listen, A’isha, I have to question a couple more people, and then I’ll be headed back. I already asked Carl to get a guy to sit out front when the sun goes down, and Jill is a master in Tai Kwan Do if you can believe it.” “Really?” “Really. I’ll be there soon.” He clicked his phone closed before he could say anything more. Truth was, he wanted to tell her he loved her, but didn’t want to scare her. They hadn’t been seeing each other long. He prayed she could get past the fact that he couldn’t make children, and that they could have a future together. “Your girl?” Joel asked when Connor focused on him again.

“Not your business.” Connor tightened his hold. “What else did Selena say? Who did she plan to get revenge on?” Joel shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me that. Mostly, she hinted around at things, like I said, the revenge and the world turning its back. She said that stuff regularly, like she had some deep down hurts.” “Who is Ida Wellington?” “Don’t know.” With a grumble, Connor released him. “Go. If I have any more questions, I know where to find you!” Soon Connor was headed up to 2D where Joel said he could find Katherine Jacks. Hopefully, she would have all the information he would need to identify this Ida Wellington and be able to tell him what Selena’s plans might have been. If not, he might just call it a day and come back tomorrow. From the looks of things so far, this crap for a mental institution was not a tightly run ship. Katherine Jacks sat with a straight back at her desk. Connor, standing in the doorway watching her, would bet she had no idea what she was reading. She was expecting him. “Ms. Jacks?” “Yes.” “I’m Detective Connor Pierce. I’m investigating Selena Goode’s connection with a recent murder.” “Murder?” The woman swayed. He heard the scrape of her trashcan when she pulled it over to her and emptied the contents of her stomach into it. “I didn’t know. No...I did. I was stupid. I did it, because I love her.” She cried noisily. Connor ignored the male instinct to comfort her, to tell her it was okay, because it wasn’t okay. Whatever involvement she had in helping Selena was serious. “You want to tell me everything?” he offered. “Yes.” He tugged his phone out of his pocket and dialed Carl. Even if Selena was not the same person as the one on the cookbook, he needed to be here for what Ms. Jacks shared. “Carl, I need you down at the City Hospital now.” He hated having to wait for his partner to arrive, but he had no choice. This whole thing needed to be official if Katherine Jacks had broken the law. And he didn’t doubt she had.

“Ms. Jacks, so we’re straight for when my partner comes, what is it that you did for Selena Goode?” “I got the antimony for her.” He ran a hand over his face. “Ms. Jacks, call your lawyer. He needs to be here when my partner arrives, or he can meet us down at the station.”

Chapter Fourteen “Is he out there?” Jill asked A’isha. A’isha drew back the curtain. The policeman was there in his car. She sighed in relief that he was, but was still tense that she couldn’t reach Connor. She’d called three times, and he didn’t answer. “Yes, he’s there, but where is Connor? He said he’d be back soon.” “You love my brother.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. A’isha pretended she didn’t hear. Jill had been kind, but she couldn’t be sure how the woman felt about her brother dating a black woman. “A’isha?” Jill touched her shoulder. She took a deep breath and turned around. “Yes, I love him.” A’isha moved away and flopped on the couch with her arms crossed. She stared at the phone on the coffee table, willing it to ring, but it remained stubbornly silent. I will not panic. I will not panic. Jill joined her. “I think it’s wonderful that my little brother has found someone. I can tell the way he looks at you that he feels the same. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look at anyone like that—like his next breath depended on you.” She laughed. “That sounds corny, huh? I read trashy romance novels, the kind with the damsel in distress. Ah, my favorite.” A’isha shook her head. “I never would have pegged you as the type. Earlier when I spoke to Connor, he said you are a master at Tai Kwon Do. Is that true?” She nodded. “You better believe it. Yeah, in real life, I’m seriously independent, or I am for the most part. I like to fantasize about a guy who sweeps me off my feet, and I thought I found that in my husband. For a while, I didn’t even need the books. But then...” A’isha covered her hand. “It’s okay, you don’t have to go into it. I can see how much it hurts. If you feel you need a woman to talk to I’m here, even if we talk about...I don’t know...Island Spice Cake.” “Huh?” A’isha blushed. “I make desserts for a living.” Jill’s eyes grew wide. She sat forward. “Really? Because I eat desserts!” The two of them burst out laughing, A’isha relaxing, realizing Jill wouldn’t judge her for the color of her skin. She seemed genuinely happy to be back in Connor’s life and that he and A’isha were seeing each other.

“Great, I’m happy to have someone to test new recipes on. I have closed my shop and will be selling it. I’ve decided I’m going to publish my mother’s old recipes, or try at least.” Jill patted her knee. “Good for you, and bring on the desserts. I figure I’ll be in town for a while.” Her expression grew serious. “What’s happening with you and Connor? He didn’t tell me much, but I get the feeling you’re in a lot of trouble.” A’isha explained everything to her they had discovered and experienced up unto then. “So, you see, I’m so worried about Connor. I just feel like if we had these papers or at least knew the connection she has with me and my family, then we could end this.” The phone rang. A’isha sprang up off the couch to snatch it up. “Connor?” “Guess again,” the snide voice teased. “Hello, A’isha. Enjoying your time with the detective’s sister?” “H-How do you know about that?” She didn’t want to show her fear but couldn’t help it. “What do you want?” “You already know that. I want the papers, A’isha. Bring them to me at the shop, or Connor dies.” A’isha lost all strength in her body and crashed down on top of the coffee table. She barely noticed when she hit her chin and her teeth clacked together. She couldn’t have him. Connor was at the hospital, and there were too many people there for her to grab him. “You’re just trying to get me of the house, away from the policeman,” she whispered with little conviction. “I’m trying to get you to save your boyfriend. But if you don’t love him...” “You know nothing of love!” she screamed. “I know a hell of a lot more than your lying mother, that’s for sure!” A’isha blew out a breath, trying to calm herself. She glanced up at Jill who was riveted to her side of the conversation. Focusing on the caller, she tried a different tactic. “Selena. That’s your name, isn’t it? I saw your name on my mother’s cookbook. She knew you.” The woman’s laughter was devoid of emotion, hard and cruel. “You’re not as dumb as you look. Go on.” Selena wasn’t going to make this easy on her. A’isha would have to feel her way, stepby-step and hope anything she said wouldn’t set the woman off. Getting information out

of her that might help Connor’s investigation would be difficult. Somehow, she got the impression that Selena did not have Connor, or she would have boasted about it to terrify A’isha all the more. “Okay,” A’isha continued. “You had some type of relationship with my mother. Were you an old partner? Did she cheat you of some profit or credit for something?” “Ohhh, back to being dumb.” Selena laughed. A’isha pounded on the table and stood. She ran a hand over her lip to find blood on her fingers. Her teeth had cut her mouth. Jill slipped out of the room and then hurried back with tissue. A’isha took it with a mouthed thanks and held it to her lips. She wracked her mind for what to say next to Selena. She seemed unwilling to offer anything. A’isha needed to figure out the truth. “You sound familiar. I thought it before when you called. Have I met you before in person?” she asked. Selena hummed. A’isha paced from the front door to the opening into kitchen and back again. Tears of frustration filled her eyes. She wanted to slam the phone down, and pretend none of this was happening. Only now that she had been chatting for a few minutes did she wonder if somehow they should have gotten the police to trace the call. Something had to give. She needed this over. She swallowed with her eyes closed and then spoke into the phone. “You’ve thrown slurs on my mother’s character as if she wasn’t as good a person as I think. So let’s say you’re right. Let’s say she never told me about any papers. After all, had she told me that would mean she also told me about you. I think we’ve established before now that I’ve never heard of you beyond discovering your name on a cookbook.” Selena’s humming stopped. The line was so silent, A’isha wondered if she was there. “Hello?” she called. Without warning, the line went dead. A’isha clicked the Off button and set the phone down. What she said had upset Selena, but A’isha knew the woman believed her, and it pissed her off all the more. She glanced up at Jill. “I need to find those papers. Up for going back to my house with me?” Jill hesitated. “Are you sure that’s the best course right now? From what you’ve told me, this woman is dangerous, and she’s already killed for what she wants.”

“I don’t see where I have a choice. She won’t stop until she’s caught or I give her what she wants. I didn’t say, but she’s threatened to hurt Connor. I can’t bear the thought of him being hurt. I’ve caused him to lose so much already. That would be too much.” “Okay, let’s do it.” Jill stood. “I’ve spent too long separated from my brother to let some maniac take him away from me.” **** After leaving Connor a note at his house and a voicemail on his phone, A’isha and Jill left with the policeman following them in his car over to A’isha’s house. The officer did a quick sweep of the interior, and then stayed outside. A’isha led Jill to the second floor. “I’ve only ever seen the few papers my mother left, which were more bills than anything else. I don’t remember seeing the name Selena, but then I wasn’t looking for it either.” She tugged a shoebox down from the top of the closet in her mother’s room. “You look through here, while I search her room for any secret cubbies” She headed for the door, but Jill stopped her. “I thought you were going to search your mother’s room. Isn’t this it?” Jill gestured to the outdated furniture, the rocking chair in the corner, the shawl tossed across the bottom rail of the bed like her mother would come in and wrap it around her shoulders at any moment. A’isha swallowed and blinked moist eyes at the memories it produced, especially a vision of her mother wrapping her in that shawl and sitting her on her lap on the front porch. Her mother had enjoyed chatting with the nearest neighbor over the porch railing in the evenings. A’isha had never felt safer back then. “No, this was my room before my mother passed. After she did, I moved her things over here, every stitch and took the larger room.” She ran a hand over the shawl. “I didn’t do it lightly though. It took me awhile, but her room had always been too cool for her, and mine had always been too hot. I switched for comfort, and told myself I would be closer to her anyway where she spent many hours writing out recipes at her desk. I did leave the desk in the other room.” Jill nodded. “I guess that does make sense. If she had a hidey hole in the closet or the wall or floor, then it would be there not here.” A’isha thought about it. “Yeah, and that might be why when Selena broke in here, she didn’t find anything.” With renewed hope, A’isha slipped into the room across the hall. This mess could be over within the next hour if she was lucky. Three hours later, A’isha was ready to cuss lady luck out. She’d banged on every square inch of her bedroom’s walls and stomped everywhere on the floor. She’d even dragged the dresser out into the hallway finding nothing. Glancing up, she found Jill in the

doorway wiping sweat from her forehead. A’isha laughed. “You are that overexerted from looking through papers?” Jill laughed. “No, of course not. I found a recipe scribbled on a napkin...Actually your mom did that a lot. But they all have personal notes, like where she was when she thought up her combinations, or what she was thinking, who she was talking to. Anyway, one in particular said something about an attic. Part of it was torn off. I’ve been bungling around looking for it.” A’isha tossed her a pitying look. “Poor thing. None of the houses around here have attics. I don’t know what my mother was referring to, but—” Jill’s eyes widened. “What? I see wheels turning in your head.” “It was the red hair and two braids that did it,” A’isha told her. “Come again?” A’isha pointed to Jill’s flyaway red hair, parted down the center and braided. She had wrapped bright pink holders around the ends, which A’isha knew had been on her mother’s dresser. She’d left them there after removing her Halloween costume from last year. Jill probably thought they were cute. “Your hair like that reminds me of this old dollhouse I used to have. My mother brought it as a lark about five years ago, because I had always wanted one as a child. She stuffed it with these cheesy dolls, and I remember telling her that they were no Barbie doll. They were cheap, and one of them has hair in the same style and color as yours.” Jill frowned, but didn’t look insulted. “Thanks a lot. You just told me I look like a cheap doll.” A’isha laughed. “No, the house has an attic, and my mother used to say it was the only one she ever liked, because she thought houses with attics were creepy. She always set that particular doll up there in the attic in a rocking chair that matched the one in her room. I think she got more fun out of that house than I did. I had grown out of the desire to play with dolls as an adult.” She stood up from the floor. “Anyway, it’s in the basement. Come on.” They all but tumbled down the stairs to the first floor and then on down to the basement. A’isha had to shuffle through junk from years ago to get to the back of the closet where she could just see the house. They dragged out boxes of Christmas decorations and old clothes, boxes of books she just had to keep. She rolled her eyes. “I should be embarrassed that you see what a pack rat I am.”

Jill waved her hand. “Please, I have a lot myself. I will have to hire a company to transport it all, because I know I won’t throw any of it out.” A’isha paused. “So you’ll move back here?” The pain in her new friend’s face was plain. “I don’t see that I have any other choice. A bit of advice. No matter how hard it is, face the truth. Don’t fool yourself, because when it forces itself on you—and it will—it will hurt all the more for your lost time and your lost self-respect, because you should have known better.” A’isha squeezed her hand. “I hear you. I knew from the get go that I was a terrible business woman. It just wasn’t my area. I can bake. Maybe not as good as my mother was, but I am really good. But I should have hired someone to handle the business side. Now I have to face the fact that I screwed up and lost the shop. I will pick myself up somehow. I know it.” Jill hugged her. “Good. I think you’ll be good with Connor, too.” “That remains to be seen. I hear relationships that start out like this, don’t last.” A’isha reached the house and dragged it out. In the middle of the floor, with their fingers mentally crossed, A’isha opened the house and peered inside the attic area. At first she thought there was nothing there, but then, she saw it. An envelope, rather thick, was placed beneath a tiny area rug her mother had knitted. Yeah, her mother had loved the house more than she did. A’isha slipped the envelope out and held it between trembling fingers. “This has to be it, Jill. We found the papers Selena’s been looking for.” “Finally,” a voice said behind them. “Now the truth can be known.” Her throat dry and knowing what she would see, A’isha spun to face Selena with a gun pointed at her chest.

Chapter Fifteen Selena waved the gun at her. “Open the envelope. Now!” With trembling fingers, A’isha tore the seal open and pulled the papers from inside. A picture slipped from the pile and feel in her lap. The choked sound from Selena’s mouth caused her to look up. The woman’s eyes were riveted to the picture. A’isha almost didn’t want to see what it was. A million and one thoughts fought for dominance in her head. Theories, suspicion that she knew what was going on, fear and disappointment. She held the picture by the corners and lifted it closer to examine. A young woman lay in a bed holding an infant in her arms. A’isha recognized the woman. She’s seen countless pictures of her mother when she was around twenty-three. One was her favorite, her mother in a red plaid coat with black fur color. A’isha had always thought her mother looked like a movie star with her silky black curls perfectly styled about her head. In this picture, her mother didn’t look so well. Her face was somewhat bloated, and her hair was all over head like she’d just had a rough time of it. A’isha flipped the picture over, and all the blood seemed to rush from her head so she felt like she would faint. She read it aloud for Jill’s benefit. “Selena and Mom at the hospital.” She read the year over and over, sure it must be a mistake. This was years before either she or her brother was even thought of. That was impossible. “This can’t be right,” she whispered. “Oh, it’s right, bitch. It’s right,” Selena snapped. “Open the papers.” A’isha obeyed, now having a pretty good idea what she would find. This was why Selena looked familiar. She had the family resemblance, and her tone of voice was a close match to A’isha’s mothers. How could she not pick that up right away? One of the papers was just what she had suspected. Selena’s birth certificate. She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh, goodness. I can’t believe this. I—” “Would never think your whoring, lying mother would abandon me? Well she did! And she never told you she had a child, did she? No, she just let me rot in that hospital for nineteen years. Two fucking decades! And you! You thought she was so perfect, so wholesome! Bah!” She marched forward and jerked A’isha up off the floor by her collar. She pressed the gun into her cheek. Jill screamed. A’isha was too terrified to do more than hang from A’isha’s hold. “Selena, I’m sorry. I never knew, just like you said.” “You should have!” she screamed. “I should kill you now!” “Freeze!”

All three of them spun to look toward the stairs. Both Carl and Connor stood there with their guns trained on Selena. Not to be intimidated by the police, she dragged A’isha in front of her and pressed the gun to her temple. A’isha stared at Connor. The blood drained from his face, and his lips tightened. He held his gun more firmly. She wondered if he would do something crazy, because he was so afraid for her. “This is my time now,” Selena yelled, still worked up. “You’re not taking that away from me. She took everything.” “Who, Selena,” Connor asked her, one of his hands extended palm down as if that would calm her. Oddly, it seemed to work. A’isha felt her hold loosen, and she could drag in a breath. “Her mother—my mother.” A’isha looked at the two officers. Neither seemed surprised by that admission. They must have found out that much from the hospital. If they hospital knew, why hadn’t they warned her when Selena escaped. The jerks had probably been trying to cover their own butts for letting her escape in the first place. Selena went on. “She abandoned me. And now I’m making sure her favored daughter pays for it.” Carl tugged a sheet of paper out of his jacket and flipped it open. “Selena, your mother didn’t know that—” “She did know! She fucking knew about me. She visited the hospital.” A’isha had jumped at the outburst, and stayed quiet with everyone else to see what Selena would add. She desperately wanted to know what was really happening. Did her mother abandon her infant and have her locked away in a hospital all these years? But why? And why wouldn’t she tell anyone? Selena sniffed, and A’isha knew she was crying. “Six months before she died, she came to see me. Used the name Ida, because she wanted to hide who she was, was still ashamed of me. She would come visit for a little while, every other weekend.” A’isha’s stomach tightened. She remembered that time. Her mother and she were very close, and she had kept from A’isha where she was going on those weekend visits. A’isha had respected her privacy, but always when she would return, she’d be so ill, so pale, and A’isha remembered thinking her mother looked like guilt was weighing her down. But she had dismissed the thought thinking it impossible. Now she knew differently. “I begged her to take me out of there,” Selena cried. “I begged her, but she wouldn’t.”

Selena sunk to the floor, dragging A’isha along with her. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs. Someone jerked Selena’s arms while she was distracted. Someone else yanked at A’isha, but Selena recovered enough to fire. Jill screamed, and one of the men grunted. A’isha’s head whirled. When Selena wrapped a steel band like arm around her waist and hauled her backward, A’isha saw the blood staining the ugly green linoleum her mother had installed in the basement. It came from Connor. He lay face down on the floor. “No!” She lost all sense of self-preservation. She just wanted Selena dead. She kicked at her unwanted sister and scratched her hands, dragging her nails along the skin that matched hers until she drew blood. Selena punched her and tried to raise the gun toward her. “Oh, no you don’t!” Jill gave what A’isha assumed was one of those callouts they taught her in Tai Kwon Do, and the heel of her hand caught Selena under the chin. The woman went down, but she was still alert and holding the gun in a tight grip. A’isha scrambled forward and brought her knee down on Selena’s arm. Carl joined her and mashed her fingers hard enough to make her let go. He picked up the gun and shoved it into his waistband. “Okay, ladies, let her go. I got it from here.” Not having to be asked twice, A’isha hurried to Connor who to her relief was sitting up shaking his hand and holding his arm. She threw herself into his arms. He cried out but held onto her. “I love you, Connor. I’d die it anything happened to you.” She pressed her lips on his although he was grinning like a school boy. “You just made the pain in my arm tolerable with those words. I love you too.” He tugged her tighter to his chest and held on. “I’m okay. Just a scratch really. We got her at last.” He nodded to Selena. A’isha turned around to see what was happening. Carl had Selena in handcuffs, and she was still fighting. “I need to know. I have a right. They’re my papers!” Despite her trying to kill her, A’isha felt sorry for Selena. And she still wanted to know the whole story as well. She clutched Connor’s hand like she couldn’t let him go and moved out of his arms long enough to snatch the sheets from the floor. “Can you wait just a second and let me she what else is in this packet? Please?” she begged Carl. “She does have a right. I have no need of this stuff.” Carl looked to Connor, and he nodded. “Fine, make it quick.” A’isha opened the page to find a letter written in her mother’s handwriting. She quickly scanned it and then read aloud.

My Dear Children, Andre and A’isha, I’m so sorry that I waited so long to talk to you about my past. I was ashamed, and while it is more common these days what with women—and girls for that matter—having babies out of wedlock left and right, I should not have found it so hard to confess the truth to you. You see, I fell in lust with a man who was not my husband. In fact, he was someone else’s husband at the time. On the surface, they had a great relationship. I say surface, because at the time, despite the evidence, I wanted to believe he was miserable with her, that I was justified in what I did. I seduced him. I won’t go into details, but I tried every immortal trick ever committed to get that object of my lust. It was lust. I know now, not love as I also convinced myself at the time. I got him to my bed, and I made sure the second time we were together that she would find us. I thought it would make her leave him and come to me. It didn’t. Instead, she stayed with him, planted bugs in his ear to rid himself of me. The entire family turned its back on me when I became pregnant. I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is yes. This is the rift that has caused our family not to associate themselves with us, the secret I kept from you all these years. The reason they hated us all so much was that the man I seduced was my aunt’s husband. A’isha burst out crying. She couldn’t believe it. Not her mother, not the most amazing person in the world, the woman who had taught her how to cook, who turned away from all things immoral, who had instilled a sense of justice in herself and Andre their entire lives. This had to be someone else, someone she had never known. Connor eased the letter from her shaking hands before she could ruin it with her tears. He looked into her eyes, and she nodded for him to continue aloud. He tried to poison me, to make me abort the baby. But Selena was strong. She came through all right, and I gave birth to her. Later, my heart was shattered when the doctors told me Selena had fought a good fight but hadn’t made it through the night. It wasn’t until year later that I learned your uncle had bribed them, had sent Selena away to live with someone he paid to care for her. Years later, by accident, I learned that no only had Selena survived, but her mind had been damaged from the poison. She was unstable and violent. From the age of sixteen, she went to live in the state hospital.

I waited two months before I visited her under an assumed name. She knew me. I don’t know how, but she did. We were okay for a while, visiting that way, but Selena began to beg me to take her home. I couldn’t do that. I know it’s selfish, but I loved the relationship I had you, A’isha and Andre. I didn’t want to lose the respect and admiration I saw in your eyes for me everyday. I rationalized and convinced myself Selena was better off in the hospital. I decided to stop visiting her, and told her so the last time I visited. She took it well, and we had a last snack of tea and dessert together. I’m ashamed of my actions and sorry that I hurt us all. Please know that you will always be in my heart no matter where we are. I still love Selena, and I love you, Andre and A’isha. - Ma By the time Connor had finished reading the letter, A’isha, Selena and Jill were all crying. A’isha blew her nose and wiped her face on the handkerchief Connor gave her and looked up at her sister. “I’m sorry, Selena. She had the chance to make things right, but she didn’t. For that I’m truly sorry.” Selena’s face held only bitterness, and a wild look came into her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but Connor shouted over her. “Carl, take her out. Now!” Carl, seeming to sense the urgency, whipped Selena away and rushed her up the basement stairs. She screamed for her mother’s letter and her birth certificate the whole way. A’isha heard Carl telling her she’d get it once she calmed down. A’isha looked up at Connor. “You are going to let her have it, aren’t you? It’s not likely she’ll get out of wherever she’s going to for a long time.” Connor seemed to think about it. “Yes, I will, but there’s something else you should know.” He glanced at Jill who stood. “It’s okay. She can hear whatever you’re going to say.” A’isha shrugged. “Looks like we’ve all got some doozies in the closet skeleton area.” Connor and Jill laughed nodding in agreement. Her lover squeezed her and murmured his love for her over and over before approaching the news he had to share. A’isha tried to brace herself for the worse. “Selena’s lover, or rather one of them”—he winced, probably realizing that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree—“was a nurse at the state hospital. The nurse felt herself so in love with Selena that she didn’t think twice about getting the poison Selena requested for a recipe Selena wanted to make.”

A’isha stiffened. “Poison?” He grunted, blew out a heavy breath and continued. “Yes, antimony. One of the side effects to it is heart failure. We took so long getting back, because we had to get a court order to exhume your mother’s body, A’isha. Baby, Selena murdered your mother. I’m guessing with that last meal they had together.” She didn’t think she had any tears left, but her tear ducts proved her wrong. She sobbed on Connor’s shoulder, and he rocked her for a long time, speaking soothing words. “She was my best friend,” she sobbed. “I loved her more than anyone. I thought she was perfect. I thought she was practically a god among people. Maybe that’s why she was taken from me.” “Oh baby.” He kissed her mouth and wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “No, that’s not why. This was a tragic situation. But know that wherever your mother is, she’s looking down on you, still loving you. It’s okay for you to love her back. People make horrible mistakes. And as bad as Selena was, it was ultimately her father who caused her to be that way. What he did wasn’t a mistake. It was horrible, knowing he was hurting an innocent child. Your mother was young and foolish, and she let her own fear get in the way of making things right. But even still, it’s likely that Selena’s mind would never let her forgive or let her think anything other than that everyone had abandoned her.” She sniffed. “You’re right. I know. But it hurts all the same. And I’ll have to go through all of this again, when Andre comes back. It will about destroy him as well.” “Just know I’m here. Right here.” He pushed strands of her wet hair off her forehead and cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere.” A slow smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Promise?” “Promise.”

Epilogue Connor leaned down over the crib and lifted his infant up into his arms. His infant. His baby boy. How had it happened? A miracle. One that he gave A’isha the credit for, he thought with love swelling in his heart. As a teen, his doctor had diagnosed him with a low sperm count. Oddly, only after A’isha had consented to marrying him with no hope of having kids had he stumbled on an alternative treatment. Now, he had Connor Junior, and he couldn’t be happier. “Connor!” A’isha stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Slightly wider hips, but still able to make him hard on sight. He offered a sheepish grin and ducked his head. She shook hers. “He was quiet and sleeping. You’re going to spoil him.” “I can’t help it. Have you seen our son?” He grunted and kissed the top of his little one’s head. “Our son.” He blinked away the moisture in his eyes. She grinned and crossed over to him. “What happened to my tough as nails cop for a husband?” “Domesticated by a wife and son.” They kissed. Connor pushed his tongue inside her mouth, but she drew back. He frowned. “How about you and me go in the bedroom and make another one. One for you this time.” She burst out laughing. “You’re nuts, you know that?” “For you and for Junior.” “Ah, let’s talk about his nickname.” She winced. “But, I think I can be persuaded to practice making another baby.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. Connor felt he would burst he was so happy, well that and turned on. How he loved that her breasts had grown bigger since being pregnant. He let his gaze rove over her as he pictured her naked. Carefully, he placed his precious bundle in his bed and took A’isha in his arms. “Okay, baby. Come on. We don’t have much time before Lisa brings her new boyfriend over. I need to be well rested before I interrogate him.” She rolled her eyes at him, dragging him toward the door. “Oh you can forget about that, detective. I’m planning to wear your thing out. I’m just getting my drive back, and I’m thinking marathon. Connor groaned, but his shaft twitched in anticipation. As much as he hated thinking of people and things as being perfection, he couldn’t help it. His life with A’isha and Connor Junior, even with his stronger than ever relationship with Jill, was just that. Perfect!