Until Death (11 page)

She planned to ignite for the guy. She planned—

He thrust into her. Deep and hard and he stretched every inch of her sex. Her breath left her in a quick rush as her whole body stiffened.

“So damn tight.” He kissed her. “Perfect,” Bennett whispered against her lips.

Then he withdrew. He thrust again. Harder. Rougher. The time for savoring was gone, and she was desperately arching up against him, moving even faster now that her body had adjusted to his. He still had her hands imprisoned, and she tried to yank them down, wanting to touch him.

“I like you this way,” he told her. “So beautiful. So mine.” He angled his hips so that he pushed down against her core. Her climax was close. She could feel it surging up within her. Closer. Closer.

He thrust. Withdrew. Thrust.

The headboard rammed into the wall. Her legs locked around his hips as she drove up to meet him.

Then her release exploded within her. The pleasure rocked through her body, filling every cell, taking her breath and making her heart race even faster. She tried to say his name, but speech was a little too much for her. She just arched toward him and rode out that climax.

“You feel…
incredible…
” He slid out, then thrust back in. “Squeezing…so
good…
”

Then his hold tightened even more on her wrists. He stiffened against her, then shuddered. Ivy stared up at him, captivated by the pleasure she could see filling his face and blazing in his gaze. He kept thrusting with his release, driving in her again and again, and the slick moves of his body just made her release keep spiraling.

“
Ivy.”

He kissed her.

She pretty much came apart for him.

In the aftermath, Bennett let her hands go. He brought her wrists to his mouth. Kissed one. Then the other. Did he feel the fast sputter of her pulse beneath his lips?

He slid from her body, and a protest broke from her lips.

“I’ll be right back.”

He’d better be. She closed her eyes.

She heard the pad of his footsteps but Ivy didn’t bother looking to see what he was doing. Her whole body felt limp, languid, pretty damn awesome. She snuggled deeper into the covers and—

Did she hear the sound of running water?

Ivy cracked open one eye. Bennett was back. He bent, slid his arms under her and lifted her up against his chest.

“This is going to stun you,” Ivy told him a bit drowsily. “But I can actually walk.”

“You just feel so good against me.” He carried her toward the bathroom. “I’ve missed you.”

He had a huge, claw-footed tub in the middle of the bathroom. He lowered her into that tub and the warm water was absolute bliss. He stepped in behind her, and they sank down together. The water kept pumping from the brass faucet, filling up the space around them.

Bennett pulled her back against his chest. His hands curled around her stomach and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“I missed you,” Bennett said again. She heard the echo of pain in his voice.

“Don’t worry,” Ivy told him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And this time, neither are you.
They were together now, and nothing would tear them apart again.

***

Cameron Wilde jogged down the beach. He loved the beach at dawn. When the first streaks of the sun’s light began to inch across the sky, they always looked so red…like blood. His sneakered feet pounded across the sand, but he made sure to stay out of the waves that reached so greedily toward him. His breath sawed in and out even as his heartbeat pounded steadily.

The sand flew up in his wake. His hands were fisted as he ran and—

Someone was at his beach house. Not just any person, either. A cop car. He saw it from a good mile away. His pace quickened as he hurried forward. A cop shouldn’t be visiting his beach house. That was his sanctuary. No one should be there.

But now he could see two uniformed men. One was on his balcony. One was walking down the beach toward him.

“Mr. Wilde!” The cop approaching him yelled.

Cameron waved and kept running. When he was within five feet of that cop, he stopped, his breath heaving. “What’s going on?”

“Got orders to check on you, sir.” The cop surveyed him, more than a bit suspiciously. “I’m Officer Fred Wayne. The authorities over in Mobile have been trying to reach you.”

His gut clenched. Cameron lowered his head, put his hands on his knees, and sucked in a deep breath. “Why? What’s happening?”
The authorities…

Instantly, Ivy’s face flashed through his mind.

Oh, hell, no—

“We came by last night, looking for you, sir, but you weren’t here.”

No, he hadn’t been.

“Want to tell us where you were?”

Fucking some girl I met on the beach. A brunette who looked enough like Ivy to get me through the night.
But now, he wasn’t going to tell the guy that bit. “I was out at one of the bars.” True enough. He’d just left the bar after a while.

Fred took another step toward him. “Where is your Porsche, Mr. Wilde?”

Cameron kept his hands on his knees, but he tilted his head back so he could gaze at the cop. “The last time I checked, the Porsche was locked in my garage.” He straightened slowly, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t bring it here. The sand would just mess up the paint.”

The cop frowned.

“I drove the SUV over. It’s parked under the cabin, I’m sure you saw it.” And the cop was making him nervous. “What’s happening?” Cameron demanded again.

“We’re going to need you to come with us, sir.” Officer Fred glanced over his shoulder. The guy’s partner had left the balcony and was walking toward them. Fred cleared his throat and said, “It appears that your Porsche may have been stolen.”

“What?” Could he have worse luck?

“It was spotted at the scene of a murder.”

Cameron took an aggressive step toward that cop. “
Who was murdered?”
Not Ivy, not—

Fred put his hand on his holster. “Sir, I need you to calm down.”

Cameron growled. “I’m wearing a pair of jogging shorts and tennis shoes. I obviously have no weapons, so you’re not in any danger from me.” He put his hands up, though, so the guys wouldn’t get all trigger happy. “Tell me what the hell is going on here.”

Fred nervously licked his lips. “You need to go in to the Mobile police station.”

Cameron’s back teeth ground together.

“A…a Shelly Estes was killed last night, and the perp who killed her, he drove off in
your
car,” Fred told him.

Shelly? Cameron shook his head. “No, that’s not possible.”

“I said too much.” Fred backed up a step. “You need to get dressed. They want you in Mobile.”

“Shelly?” Cameron whispered. Oh, shit, but Hugh must be a mess. He followed the cop, his steps wooden, his mind whirling.

The killer had used his car? His Porsche? What the hell? It was almost as if… “Is the bastard trying to set me up?” Because cops had come hunting for him, and that shit couldn’t be good.

Fred glanced back at him. “You’ll probably want your lawyer to meet you in Mobile.”

Sonofabitch. “I don’t want a lawyer. I want to see my friends.” Because Hugh and Ivy would need him.

He would be there for them, no matter what.

The sunlight poured through the blinds, falling onto the bed. Onto Ivy.

Bennett stared at her, enjoying the way the light caught her hair, bringing out faint red highlights in the dark mane that he had never noticed before.

She was lying face down on the bed, with the sheets pooled around her waist. He stood by the edge of the mattress, and his fingers itched to touch her.

The chief had called him a few minutes ago. The ME wanted to see him—and he was scheduled to meet with the mayor, too. There was no way to keep the murders out of the public eye—hell, by hitting the councilman
and
a high profile society queen like Shelly Estes, the killer had practically guaranteed himself a front page spread in the paper.

A press conference was scheduled for that afternoon.

And, on top of all that, Cameron Wilde had been found—and the guy was due in for an interrogation very soon.

I have to go.

But he just wanted to stay right there, where he knew Ivy was safe. His fingers trailed down her back. “Ivy.” He kept his voice soft.

She stretched beneath his touch.

“Ivy…” A little louder now.

Her head turned. Her eyes fluttered open. Her dark gaze focused on him, and she smiled.

When was the last time that someone had looked at him that way? Like he was something good, something…special?

Ivy had always looked at him that way, though. Even when they were teens. When she should have never noticed a guy like him…she’d turned to him and given him that same slow smile.

“I was dreaming about you,” Ivy said.

And I’ve spent most of my life dreaming about you.

She pushed up a bit in the bed. “You were—”

“I have to go back to the station.”

Ivy pushed back her hair. She twisted in the bed and brought the sheet up to cover her breasts. A real crying shame.

Bennett cleared his throat. “Cameron Wilde has been found. He’s okay,” he said quickly when he saw the worry flicker in her gaze. “Seems he was at the beach house, just like you said. He’s coming in so I can ask him some questions about the case.”

“I’m coming, too,” Ivy said immediately.

Yes, he’d thought that would be her response. But he shook his head. “No dice. The chief gave specific instructions that you were
not
to show up.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, feeling the scrape of his stubble. “Everyone knows that you’re close with Cameron. The chief said you had to stay away for his interrogation.”

“But—”

“And the press are going to be at the station. Chief Quarrel said it was already a feeding frenzy, and the mayor has given orders for us to lock down civilian access as much as possible.”

Her head tilted as she stared up at him. “I thought that I was under protective custody.”

Her lips were so red. So plump. He leaned down and kissed her. “You are,” he said softly. “That’s why Detective Drew Trout is outside. He’ll be your shadow for today.”

Her gaze searched his. “Dumping me isn’t cool.”

Keeping you safe is.

“You know…I’ll just contact Dr. Battiste on my own and find out what he tells you.”

Battiste needed to watch his step. If the mayor found out he was sharing details of the investigation, the guy would find himself in some serious hot water.

“Keep close to your guard,” Bennett ordered her. “If anything happens to scare you—shit, if you just feel
nervous,
then call me right away.” And he’d be at her side instantly.

Screw the press conference.

Screw everything…but her.

Her lips lifted into a faint half-smile. “I’m nervous.”

He stilled.

“But that’s not how it works. You have a job to do. So do I. Go.” She pushed against his shoulders. “And come back to me when you can.”

He didn’t leave, not yet. “Where are you planning to go?” Because he could already see the wheels spinning in her head.

“To see my brother. He’ll need me.” Her shoulders rolled back. “Then I’ll go pay my respects to Shelly’s family.” Her gaze fell to the covers. “She was my friend, and she deserved so much better than this.” Her breath whispered out. “So did Evette…so did those other women. The councilman. No one deserved this slaughter.”

And that was exactly what it had been.

His hand lifted and trailed over her cheek. “I’ll be back at your side before you know it.” She was right—he did have a job to do. Hunting that psycho out there. And Ivy might want to hunt right at his side, but he’d tried working with a partner before…and that man—trained at the FBI Academy—had fallen to a killer’s blade. Bennett had been trapped with his friend’s dead body. The blood had leaked toward him.

That won’t ever happen with Ivy.
He would never risk her that way.

So, no, she wasn’t going with him. He was keeping the guard on her. He was keeping her alive. And he
would
find the bastard hunting in Mobile.

Bennett headed into the den. He grabbed his holster and checked his gun. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him that Ivy had followed him. She stood at the edge of the hallway, with the sheet wrapped around her body.

For an instant, he just stopped. Lost, in her. “Sometimes, I would forget,” he heard himself say, “just how beautiful you really were.”

Her gaze held his. “I hated what happened. I went to the police, I
told
them that they needed to investigate my father more after that accident. I begged Hugh to talk, but he said…he said he never saw my father take a drop to drink that night. But when my dad hugged me at the scene, I could smell the booze on him.” She shook her head. “I am so sorry for what happened to your aunt. To you.”

He shook his head. “I never blamed you.”

“Didn’t you, Bennett?” She pulled the sheet up a bit. “Isn’t that why you left?”

He glanced down at the gun in his hand. He put it in the holster. “I left because I was ashamed. My mother…she took your father’s money. She took it. She sold her sister’s life for fifty thousand dollars.”

He heard her sharply indrawn breath. “I didn’t know—”

“It wasn’t just that…” His breath heaved out. “I went after your father.”

“What?”

“I broke into his house.” This was a shame he’d carried for too long. Because he’d broken down and given in to his rage. “You weren’t there. I had this idea,
this crazy idea
, that I could make him confess. So I went in through the back door. I found the bastard there and he was in his study. Drinking.
Drinking again…
when she was barely cold in the ground.” His chin lifted. “I lost it. I attacked him.”

She took a step toward him.

She should be backing away.

“Hugh was there. He pulled me off your father. Told me to get the hell away. To stay away—from his father. From you. He said I was the dangerous one.” He could still see that scene. His first punch had busted the senator’s nose. The man hadn’t even tried to fight back. He’d just taken the blows. “I think Hugh was right.”

Ivy shook her head.

“I’m the one who attacked. I’m the one who fought. I’m the one who could have gone to jail.” His laughter was bitter. “One phone call. That was all it would have taken. Your father came to see me the next day, you see. He made me a deal…get the hell out of town. Or go to jail.”

“No!”

“Oh, yeah, he did. But that trip out of town—it came complete with a college education. A ticket to start over, just like the ticket he had given my mother.” His breath rushed out as shame burned through him. “And dammit, I took that ticket.”

She touched his arm. “You were young, Bennett. You—”

“Didn’t want to go to jail? Didn’t want to throw my life away? No, I didn’t. I gave in to his threats. I took his money—just like my mother did—and I left behind the only thing I really cared about.”

Her hand squeezed his arm. “I’m here now.”

She was.

“We can’t change the past,” Ivy told him starkly. “I wish to God that we could, but it’s over. The most we can do is go forward. Try to make things better.”

“Like you did with the Sebastian Jones murder?” He threw that out to see her reaction.

Her expression shut down. “I guess I should have expected you to go dig in my life. Only fair, since I was doing the same thing to yours.” Her smile turned bittersweet. “Let me guess…was Dr. Battiste the one who told you about that case?”

Bennett nodded.

“I figured he might do something like that,” she murmured. Then she softly sighed and said, “When he learned about the
accident
that my father caused, my grandfather had a stroke. He was in the hospital for months.”

And I was gone. I’d left Ivy.

“My grandfather’s recovery was slow. He had to learn how to speak again. How to walk. Every moment tore out my heart, and I just wanted to help him.” She glanced down at her hands. “So I didn’t go away to college. I transferred to a school here. I stayed close to him. I visited him as often as I could, and I tried to give him a reason to fight.”

He waited.

“Cold cases.” She nodded. “That’s what we started with. The cases that the cops weren’t trying to solve. I would go in to his room each day. Tell my grandfather about them. Read the files. He had…friends…who were happy to pass those files along to me.”

“Friends like the chief?” Bennett murmured. “And Dr. Battiste?”

“He wasn’t the chief back then.” She turned away. “But yes, like them.” The sheet trailed behind her. “My grandfather’s body was weak, but his mind was sharp. He hated the way things had become with my family. Once, his investigations business had thrived. It had the best reputation in the southeast.” She glanced back at him. “He didn’t know that my father had used the employees there to dig up dirt on his competitors so he could win political races. He didn’t know that the business he’d built with his blood and his sweat had become a blackmail tool for my dad. We all learned that, too late.”

Her father was a real prize.

“As I sat in the hospital room with my grandfather, we made plans to change the business…to get it back to the way it used to be. And we decided we’d just start with two employees.” The sheet rustled as she walked. “It was just me and him. And our cold cases. With cold cases, sometimes you just need a fresh pair of eyes.”

And he was betting her eyes had been plenty fresh.

“As my grandfather and I poured over the notes, we started to find small clues. Details that others had overlooked. Our first big break came with the Sebastian Jones murder.”

Thanks to the tip-off from Dr. Battiste, Bennett had pulled up the original case file for Sebastian Jones. Sebastian had been a sixteen-year-old boy—a boy whose body had been found slumped near a dumpster on the outskirts of the city. Drug paraphernalia had been found on the boy, and he’d been shot in the heart. From all accounts, it had looked like a drug deal gone wrong—with the kid’s shooter just vanishing into the night.

Bennett had wanted to dig deeper into the case, but he hadn’t been given the time. He waited for Ivy to tell him the rest of the story.

“Sebastian was a straight A student,” Ivy said. “His mother told me that he was determined to get a scholarship. He wanted to be a doctor. He wanted to save lives. To change the world. She was adamant that he would
never
be involved with drugs, and the ME’s report—”

Ah, that would be her friend Dr. Battiste…

“It showed no drugs in his system. It
did
show gunshot residue on his hands, consistent with him fighting his attacker, trying to wrestle the guy away.” Sadness softened her voice. “In the official report, the cops noted that Sebastian’s mother had just sent him out to the grocery store. That he had one hundred dollars and that he was supposed to buy a few things on her list.” Her voice softened. “We realized he was robbed for that money, and his body was just dropped in that spot—because it was an area well-used by drug dealers. When Sebastian was discovered there, the authorities thought just what the killer wanted…”

“That Sebastian was a drug dealer.”

She turned toward him. “So the cops were focusing their efforts on the gangs and the drug trade and they didn’t look close to home…” Her smile was bitter. “Home isn’t always the safest place, you know. Sometimes, that’s where the real monsters live.”

He knew just how true that was.

“I went back to Sebastian’s home. I interviewed his mother. His step-father. I talked to the neighbors. My grandfather was starting to get better, but it was slow. All so slow…he told me not to go alone, but I had to investigate. For him. For Sebastian.” Her breath expelled in a rush. “
For me
. I had to prove that I wasn’t going to be like my father. I wasn’t going to take an easy way out. I just—
I wasn’t.”

Her hand lifted and she brushed back her hair. “You can’t really see the scar now. And it seems almost stupid to show it…considering what you went through.”

Scar? She didn’t have a scar. He’d touched every inch of her smooth skin.

“Sebastian’s step-father kept acting odd. So jittery. His eyes were bloodshot. His answers too fast. No, he hadn’t seen Sebastian when he left. Yes, he thought the boy had been trouble—‘
always acting so high and mighty when he was no better than me’.
That’s what he said but…I thought Sebastian
was
better, way better than the image that guy was presenting to me. So I followed the step-father, acting on a hunch…and
he
was the one doing drugs. The one getting high before he’d go home. And I realized…he was the one who took that hundred dollars from his own step-son, and he left Sebastian to die with the garbage.”

He crossed to her. She’d pulled the hair away from the nape of her neck, and now he could see the faint, white line that sliced from just behind her ear around to the back of her head.

What the hell?

“The step-father didn’t like being followed, so he turned the tables and he started following
me
. He tracked me to the PI office.” Her eyelids lowered. “I didn’t realize he had the knife on him. He’d sliced me before I even knew what was happening.”