Dash of Peril

CHAPTER TEN

SENSUAL POSSIBILITIES bombarded Margo—but she still had a workday to get through.

Dash kissed her, a sweet kiss that felt amazingly like acceptance. “We’ll figure out the game rules tonight.”

Insane, given the circumstances, but she almost grinned. Dash was proving to be more fun than she’d ever imagined.

Hard to believe she’d once discounted him. Now she felt the urgent need to experience him in every way. “Tonight,” she agreed.

“Until then, what’s next on the agenda?”

“I’m sorry, but I want to watch the video again, at least a couple more times. Reese and Logan will do the same. It’s always possible we missed something, or that a puzzle piece might fall into place. You just never know.”

Admiration showed in the way he agreed. “I had no idea how heinous your workload could be.”

Might as well be honest with him, she decided. “It gets incredibly ugly far too often. Children murdered. Women raped. Men beaten to death. You have to grow a thick skin to do this job.” Only her skin would never be thick enough to keep the brutality from hurting her. Far too often she brought her job home with her.

Far too often, she tried to drive it away with strangers in seedy motel rooms.

But for now at least, that was over. Who needed a hotel room when she had Dash in her home? Or...wait. She looked up at him. “Tonight...what exactly are we doing?”

“I was thinking I’d run to my place and grab more clothes along with a few other necessities while you do your thing. Maybe meet you back here in a couple of hours.”

“That should give me enough time.” On top of watching the video she had some phone calls to answer, some emails to catch up on.

“Whatever works for you.” Dash toyed with one of the short curls at the nape of her neck. “Then we can head home.”

Home. Together. She liked the sound of that more than she should have. “Okay.”

Both hands framed her face. “Even tomorrow, after you see the doctor, I’d like to stay with you.”

Her pulse tripped. “Dash...”

“Or you could stay with me. What do you think?”

She thought that sounded an awful lot like a relationship. “You have to understand. I’m first and foremost a cop.”

His slow smile reeked of male confidence. “No, you’re first and foremost a woman. A beautiful, take-charge, sexy piece of work who handles the duties of being lieutenant with ease.”

That was...the nicest compliment she’d ever received.

“You want balance in your life? Start with me. You can be both a woman and a cop. Let me show you that one doesn’t detract from the other.”

Talk about dangerous. A real relationship with Dash scared her half to death. It was the unknown, and she could end up devastated.

Her heart punched so hard that it hurt. But the idea of ending things with him, not knowing what it would be like to have him, hurt far more.

“Since I have Oliver, my place is better.”

As if a weight had just been lifted, his shoulders loosened and the corner of his mouth curled up. “Works for me.” He touched his teasing thumb to her bottom lip. “Would it be inappropriate of me to kiss Lieutenant Margaret Peterson, really kiss her, here in her office?”

“Very inappropriate.” She leaned into him. “But your brother and Reese are the only cops impertinent enough to barge in without knocking—and they’re not here.”

The smile widened into a grin. “So is that permission?”

More like a plea; she needed to lose herself a little in his touch, his taste.

No reason to always make it so easy on him. “You are in my office so maybe we should call it an order.”

The heated way he looked at her did amazing things to her mood.

“Yes, ma’am.” And with that he took her mouth, not in a timid peck, but in a kiss of possession guaranteed to fill her with a new type of tension.

Holding her face, he sealed his mouth to hers until her lips parted, until he could tease his tongue over her bottom lip, the edge of her teeth, then deep in a hot, damp consummation.

The reality of the danger remained; she never lost sight of her duty. But Dash’s touch, his effect on her, made it easier to deal with and gave her a more grounded control of her emotions.

At least where the job was concerned.

When it came to Dash, her emotions were all over the place.

As he eased away again, ending the kiss by small degrees, little pecks and gentle licks, he groaned. “God, I need you, Margo.”

She felt the same—times ten. “Tonight.”

Gently chiding, he shook his head and reminded her, “There’s plenty we can do tonight, but not that. Not until your splint is off.”

“We’ll see.” She had plans to change his mind on that proviso. She blew out a thick breath. “While you’re out, would you want to stop at the grocery, too?”

“Sure, why not? The sooner we get done, the sooner we can head back to your place.” He glanced at his watch. “I might run by the job site, too, but there should be time for everything. Write me a list of what you want.”

He hadn’t even blinked an eye. In fact, she had the feeling it amused him to be sent on errands. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Anything I can do to help. I already told you that.”

“All right then.” Taking him at his word, Margo wrote out a short list.

When he left her office, everyone in the vicinity was agog. Dash either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Either way, seeing him stride away, his body tall, strong, his smile contagious, she couldn’t help but be proud.

The women watched him with covetous envy, the men with ripe speculation.

And they all realized he was there for her.

Wearing her own smile, Margo turned away and shut her door. Maybe, just maybe, she could be both a woman and a lieutenant. Then she thought of that awful video, and went into full-blown cop mode.

Dash and all his appeal would just have to wait.

Luckily he didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

CANNON KNEW HE was lucky that Logan and Reese trusted him, otherwise he’d be left on the outside, wondering what was going on. This was his neighborhood. He cared about it—sometimes too much. Not being involved now would make him nuts.

Again he knocked on the front door of the pawnshop, harder this time. He had a very bad feeling about things.

Hands to the glass, Logan peered in through the front window. “I thought I saw something move.”

From somewhere inside, a noise sounded, like something hitting the floor, then...absolute stillness again.

No lights came on and no one called out.

Tension welled up, churning, expanding. Cannon started around the side of the building. “Something’s wrong.” He knew it. He felt it.

Logan and Reese followed.

Near the trash bin, Cannon found a large chunk of fallen brick. He hefted it in his hand.

“Whoa.” Logan scowled at him. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going in.”

“You can’t do that.” Hands on his hips, Reese pointed at Cannon. “There’s a process, and it doesn’t involve busting windows.”

“Look away then,” Cannon told him, and he hit the pane on a low window. Glass shattered.

“Shit.” Reese gave up without much fuss. “I have to call this in.”

“Do what you gotta do.” Pulling off his thermal shirt, Cannon wrapped his hand and wrist, then reached in and opened the lock on the window. It pushed open and, as he started to crawl in, something came crashing down near his head.

He barely managed to duck back in enough time to avoid having his brains scattered. A heavy wooden ball bat reverberated off the linoleum floor.

Both Logan and Reese were suddenly armed with big black guns in their hands.

“Take it easy,” Cannon told them. And then, in a softer tone, “Yvette?”

Her face appeared, ravaged from tears and smeared makeup. “Cannon?”

“Yeah.” Christ, she was a mess. He kept his tone gentle. “Open the front door.”

“Oh, God.” She hugged the bat to her chest while her gaze pinged here and there nervously. In a hush, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

He said again, more firmly this time, “Open up, honey. Or should I come through the window?”

She knuckled one eye, further spreading the mess of her makeup and tears. “I’ll...I’ll open the door.”

Going around front, followed by the silent detectives, Cannon waited with vibrating impatience. The second the lock opened he pushed his way in.

The smell of kerosene assaulted his nose. “Yvette?”

A sob bubbled up and her shoulders shook. She hugged herself tightly.

Cannon did his best to ignore the presence of two top-notch detectives looming behind him. He knew they were giving him some leeway, so he didn’t want to waste the opportunity. “Shhh. Take it easy.” He relieved her of the ball bat, setting it aside. “It’s okay now.”

“No—no, it’s not.”

Surprised that neither Logan nor Reese attempted to take over, he lifted Yvette’s chin. He’d found that making eye contact with a friend often soothed frazzled nerves. “Where’s Tipton?”

She swallowed hard, turned and headed toward the back of the shop.

The men followed.

Usually Yvette walked tall, shoulders back and chest out, confident of her sex appeal. Right now she was so curled into herself that it worried Cannon.

Her clothes were stiff and dirty, her tank top ripped near the neck. Barefoot, her flared jeans dragged the floor. At the door to a small room she stopped. “Grandpa? Cannon is here.”

Cannon pushed in past her. On one side of the room, pawned items of every variety, some large and some small, lined metal shelving. Opposite that, cleaning supplies were stacked alongside a mop bucket and broom. Against the back wall was one utility sink and a toilet. The harsh overhead fluorescent light showed spots of blood on the floor and in the sink.

There in the corner, bruised, bloody and battered, Tipton sat, his legs out and his back against the wall.

“Damn it.” Rushing in, Cannon went to a knee beside him. He found a head wound that didn’t look too awful but had bled considerably given the mess on Tipton’s shirt. His eyes looked clear, though swollen. He had a vicious split lip. “What the hell happened?”

Tipton barely shook his head, but looked up to his granddaughter. After a long, painful hesitation, he whispered, “Tell him.”

Yvette twisted her small hands together. “Grandpa...”

“Tell him, Yvette.”

“First,” Reese said, his voice gentle, “I’m going to call for an ambulance, okay?”

That he asked pleased Cannon.

Tipton nodded. “You’re here, so I guess it don’t matter anymore.”

Reese turned his back as he made the call.

Logan knelt down by Cannon. “You weren’t supposed to call the cops?”

“Or move, or leave the shop,” Yvette said, her voice filled with defeat. “Not until Monday.”

Another entire day? To Cannon, it looked like they’d tried to clean up. They had water, a little food, but no change of clothes. And Tipton needed medical care.

Maybe Yvette did, too.

Covering her face, her slim body quaking, she dropped back against a wall. “If...if we left before then, he said he’d know, that he’d come back.” Her voice cracked. “And next time he’d go ahead and...and light us up!”

The kerosene. Cannon fought back his rage now that the permeating smell made sense.

Logan reached out and carefully touched the edge of Tipton’s shirt hem. “He doused you in kerosene.”

Tipton drew a cautious breath through his nose. His gaze darted to his granddaughter. “Both of us. Stuff eats on your skin, so Yvette rinsed out our clothes the best she could.”

It wasn’t enough, Cannon could tell. The clothes had dried stiff and they still smelled.

“He...” Yvette swallowed again, choking on her tears. “He held a lighter over us.” Fresh panic drove her voice higher. “He said if we made a sound or moved, he’d watch while we burned.”

Cannon carefully clasped Tipton’s shoulder to let him know things would be okay, then he stood and went to Yvette.

Slumped against the wall, her head down and her shoulders hunched, she quivered from head to toes. There was fear, shock and maybe a little relief now that she wasn’t alone.

So many times she’d flirted with him in outrageous ways. Because she was so young, because he respected the neighborhood business owners and because he had bigger goals in life that didn’t include an entangled relationship with an innocent girl, he had never expected to touch her.

Now everything was different. “Yvette?” She looked ready to come apart, so he didn’t want to approach her too quickly.

Big green eyes, swollen and red, looked up at him, and she sniffled pathetically.

Never had he seen a more wretched sight. Pity almost choked Cannon as he slowly reached for her. “Come here.”

On another broken sob, Yvette shot up against his bare chest, her slim arms squeezing tight around him, her face wetting his skin as the sobs came full steam. Her petite but stacked body—a body he had always ignored—pressed as close to him as she could get.

Cannon just held her, trying not to breathe in the remnants of kerosene fumes while noticing that her long dark hair was still oily with it. “You’re safe now.”

“No,” she wailed. “He said he sees everything. He told us not to talk to the cops until tomorrow—or else. But you brought them here now! He said if we didn’t follow directions, he’d make us pay. He said...” She shuddered, her voice choking. “He said he’d use me like he did that other lady.”

“He’ll never touch you.” Already Cannon made plans on how to find the bastard, how he’d make him pay. “Do you know the other woman?”

“Oh, God.” She shook her head hard. “No. But it was so awful!”

Reese interrupted those dark thoughts. “We’ll take care of everything, Yvette.” He held out a hand. “I’m Detective Bareden, by the way.”

Without releasing Cannon, Yvette stuck out one small hand. Reese took it in a calm greeting. The second he released her, she snuggled in close to Cannon’s chest again. He kept one arm around her shoulders, the other around her waist, giving her his heat, his strength, his comfort.

Over the top of her head, Cannon met Reese’s gaze. They were both grim.

“You said he told you to wait until tomorrow to call the cops.” Logan stood, then looked around at the small room. “How long have you been here?”

“Since yesterday afternoon,” Tipton said. He held his side and tried to sit up a little more, but gasped in pain instead.

“Your ribs?” Logan asked.

“Bastards kicked me.”

Yvette shuddered again, so Cannon said near her ear, “Shh, shh,” while rocking her a little.

“Can you tell me how many men? Can you give me descriptions?”

“I can try.” Tipton caught his breath, let it out in a measured way that showed a lot of pain. “Three men. One had dark hair and a beard. A goatee. Other two weren’t as dark. They were both heavy, one bald and the other thinning.”

“Two of them...they raped her,” Yvette cried, her breath against his now damp skin. “She was so out of it, I don’t know if she realized what was going on. But it was horrible. She made these little sounds, like...like she wanted loose but couldn’t fight—”

Again Cannon rocked her. “It’ll be okay.”

“What about the third man?” Logan asked.

“He made us watch with him,” Tipton said. “After they soaked us with kerosene. He—the one in charge—said he used kerosene ’cause it’d burn hot but wasn’t combustible like gasoline.”

“They said they’d burn us to ashes and no one would ever know what happened.”

Absently, Cannon stroked her. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Usually whenever he’d seen her she’d been wearing heels. He hadn’t realized she was so short. “Are you hurt, too?”

Keeping her face pressed against him, she shook her head. “No.”

“They slapped her,” Tipton said, “’cause she cried when they were kicking me.”

Cannon leaned back and tried to lift her face, but she clung to him like a vine. “Come on, honey. Let me take a look.”

“No.” And then, in an absurd show of vanity, she cried, “I’m a mess!”

Cannon looked around and found Reese, Logan and Tipton all watching them. In their gazes he saw the same pity he felt. No wonder Yvette wanted to hide.

Holding her a little closer, he asked Logan, “You’ve got this?”

Logan nodded. “I’ll get the descriptions. Go take care of her.”

“Ambulance will be here shortly.” Reese joined Logan at Tipton’s side. “I told them to come in quietly.”

Cannon accepted all that. No lights or sirens was good. “Then Yvette and I are going to the other room.”

Tipton watched him with a lot of suspicion and concern. “What for?”

“To talk.”

Logan spoke quietly to Tipton, and the older man nodded. “All right.”

Before he got out of the room, Tipton said, “Cannon?”

With Yvette held close, Cannon looked back. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.” He looked at his granddaughter. “For everything.”

Cannon acknowledged that with a nod, but as he walked out of that room, he felt like he was taking a giant step into new responsibilities.

And into...trouble.

Petite, stacked, young trouble.