Hands On Read online

  “Frank here.”

  He adjusted the phone to his mouth. “It’s me. Find out anything?”

  “Other than the fact that Higgins is so pissed at you he’s probably arranging to transfer you to Outer Mongolia?”

  “Screw Higgins.” Dalton rubbed his tired eyes. “What did you find out?”

  “Simone Harding has a list of aliases a mile long. She’s been Adele Manning, Sandra Lockhart, Danielle Fleming, Morgan Sanders… Any of these sound familiar?”

  “Not off hand. Any arrests?”

  “Two, both times for fraud, but no convictions.”

  “What about Grant Harding?”

  “Not a thing on him.”

  That didn’t mean anything, but somehow Dalton wasn’t surprised. He doubted there was any relationship between Grant and Simone. Grant had probably been hired to pose as her husband, and it was possible that he didn’t know about Bask’s scam.

  Hell, it was possible Bask didn’t even know about Simone.

  She could have her own private agenda, her own scam in the works. No, it was that hint of familiarity the evening Bask had called her out of the dining room that had gotten Dalton thinking. “Have Bask and Simone ever been linked together?”

  “Funny you should ask. Simone was last seen in Wichita, Kansas. Same place your boy, Bask, was taken in for questioning two years ago.”

  “Makes sense,” Dalton muttered, and then listened while Frank filled him in on a few more items of interest.

  Now that they knew Simone was involved somehow, Dalton figured she would be the better person to lean on. The heavy drinking could be an act, but he didn’t think so. She seemed to always be sober, yet no one consumed as much alcohol as she did and not get sloshed. Yep, she was ripe for the picking.

  “Thanks, Frank. I owe you one.”

  “One?” Frank chuckled. “You owe me more than one, pal.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Hey, aren’t you gonna ask why you’re in the doghouse with Higgins?”

  “Shit, when am I not in the doghouse with him?”

  “Yeah, but it’s different this time.” Frank’s voice got serious. “You haven’t checked in for almost a week, and he’s been alternating between worried and furious.”

  “He’s worried about me? Wait while I wipe a tear.”

  Frank laughed. “You know it wouldn’t look good if he lost a man right before election time.”

  “So he’s really going to run for office?”

  “Looks like it.”

  Dalton shook his head. Part of him wished the guy got elected so he’d get off his back, and the other part missed the pain in the ass already.

  They’d worked together a long time. While Dalton had liked staying out in the field, Hector had higher aspirations. He’d been promoted rather quickly, and with each promotion he’d changed, became more ambitious. “I assume he asked if you heard from me?”

  “Yeah…wait a minute.” Frank pulled away from the phone and said, “Honey, a little more coffee here.”

  Yep, he was at Mario’s, all right. Some things never changed. Dalton smiled. Including Frank’s political incorrectness.

  “Okay,” Frank said into the receiver. “I told him I hadn’t talked to you since last week.”

  “Good. I don’t want you in the middle.”

  “Why haven’t you checked in?”

  “I left a message.”

  “A week ago. On his voice mail when you knew he wouldn’t be in.”

  “So?”

  “I hate to say it, kid, but it looks like you’re purposely trying to piss him off.”

  “He stuck me with this friggin’ nothing case. If he doesn’t like the way I’m working it, he can pull me off.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, realization hit him like a two-by-four.

  If Higgins had known Dalton had planned to go undercover, he would have pulled him off, and sent someone else. Higgins didn’t really want Dalton wasting his time on this kind of case. He’d only wanted to exact punishment, make an example out of him.

  “He can’t pull you off if he doesn’t hear from you.”

  Exactly. Dalton briefly closed his eyes and muttered a pithy four-letter word. This was about Cassie, and wanting to work with her. Hell, wanting to do more than work with her. He knew better. Dammit.

  “Dalton?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Just check in. You don’t even have to tell him where you are.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  Frank sighed. “That sounded a lot like Marie’s ‘yes, dear.’ I still think you should call.”

  “Thanks, Frank. When I get back I’m taking you and Marie to dinner.”

  “If you aren’t standing in the unemployment line instead.”

  “Hell, I need a vacation, anyway.”

  “Right.”

  “See ya.”

  Dalton stood at the payphone, drumming his fingers on the ratty phonebook stored beneath the phone. In spite of their recent differences, Higgins probably was worried.

  “Shit!”

  He picked up the receiver again and punched in the number to the bureau. Purposely he didn’t call Higgins’s private line. When the operator answered, he asked for Higgins’s assistant. And left a message.

  “LET’S TAKE A WALK.” Dalton steered Cassie to the French doors as soon as dinner was over.

  Cassie glanced over her shoulder. “It’s such a nice evening, someone else is bound to have the same idea.”

  “Nah, they’re all tired from their hike this morning.”

  She hoped so. She was dying to talk to him and would have preferred the privacy of their room. But she followed him out onto the patio, and the scent of roses and gardenias immediately surrounded them. A couple of rakes leaned against a post, which meant the gardener hadn’t left yet.

  “Let’s head toward the pool,” Dalton said, and surprised her by taking her hand.

  She inhaled deeply. “These roses are awesome. I’m really going to have to talk to Mr. Hamada.”

  “You were serious about that?”

  “Of course. I love to garden.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. You said something about that in the car.”

  “You look skeptical.”

  “I don’t know. I just didn’t see you as the type.”

  She frowned. Surely he didn’t think she was afraid to get her hands dirty. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

  “I see you more as a career woman, not someone tinkering around the house or yard, or fooling with girlie things.”

  “Oh.” She smiled, liking that answer.

  He gave her a double take, and smiled along with her. “What’s that sassy grin for?”

  “I don’t usually get that response. Most people expect someone who looks like me to do girlie things.”

  He made a face as if he found that hard to believe. “Not people who know you.”

  She nodded wryly. “My father for one, and my mother to some degree. My brother, too, which really disappoints me because he’s too young to have such a crummy attitude, and of course, my old boss was a member of the idiot society.”

  “Chet?”

  She nodded, surprised he remembered Chet’s name. “I had a couple of old boyfriends like that, too, but I got rid of them fast.”

  He chuckled. “I bet you did.” He lapsed into a thoughtful silence until they got to the pool deck. “Your parents are the ones who surprise me. Obviously I don’t know them but I’d think they’d want you to strive for your full potential.”

  “One would think.” She let go of his hand and sat on one of the lounge chairs, not sure she wanted to have this conversation. Her parents’ lack of support in her career choice was a sore issue for her.

  “You went to Texas A&M, not a scrub school. Did they encourage you to go?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, but only for my pageant portfolios.”

  God, she hoped she didn’t regret supplying that infor
mation.

  He sat beside her instead of on his own chair. “As in beauty pageants?”

  She nodded already deep in regret.

  “I can’t picture it. I mean, you’re certainly beautiful enough, I bet you won more than your share of competitions, but it just doesn’t seem like you.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t take it wrong or anything.”

  Laughing, she threw her arms around his neck. “Trust me, I am not taking this wrong,” she said, and kissed him. Catching him off guard, he fell backward against the reclining chair back, pulling her with him. What was meant to be a for-show kiss quickly escalated. His warm chocolate-scented breath mixed with hers, and she let her weight rest against him, reveling in his instant arousal.

  He framed her face with his hands and pushed her hair off her face, showering her with kisses. “God, you smell good.”

  “Wake up. It’s garlic. The same thing you had for dinner,” she joked, hoping to lighten the mood. She took a quick look around. Mostly to get her heart rate under control. “You’re supposed to tell me about what you found out from your friend.”

  “Oh, hell, how am I supposed to remember right now?”

  She looked down into his eyes, so full of humor and intelligence, and she knew that as impossible as it seemed, she’d fallen for him. She used the tip of her finger to trace the outline of his lips. “What happened to business before pleasure?”

  “That’s a bunch of bullshit.” His lips curved and then he sucked her finger into his mouth.

  “Hey, knock it off.”

  He bit down gently, just enough to get her revved.

  She retaliated with a strategic little shimmy, making him groan.

  “Ah, so the gloves are off, huh?” He grabbed her wrists and held them over her head.

  “Dalton, let me go.” She used a horrified voice, but then lost ground by laughing when he used his chin to tickle her neck.

  “Not until you tell me you’re crazy about me.”

  “In this lifetime?” She took an unsteady breath. She was acting like a rookie. “Not.”

  Dalton’s grin vanished and he jerked his head up. “Did you hear something?”

  “No.” She sat up and stared into the semidarkness, neither of them speaking for nearly a minute.

  He sat up, as well. “Could have been a cat or a bird.”

  “Or Mr. Hamada.”

  “It’s getting too dark for him to still be working.”

  Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself, thinking about how someone could have been watching them.

  Dalton got up first and extended a hand. “Let’s go inside.”

  She let him pull her up and then take her hand. He led her through the portion of the path that was a tad overgrown, and then brought her beside him, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

  She liked the way they fit, the way he touched her without crowding her, how he had a kind of protective, chivalrous streak. She’d never admit it to him. They were professional, equals, and she wanted desperately to be taken seriously. Anyway, he’d deny it. He’d probably start second-guessing his actions, not wanting to appear soft.

  Snuggled against him, she whispered, “Tell me about your childhood.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to know about you.”

  “We’ve been in each other’s face for three days. I think you’re starting to get to know me.”

  “That’s not fair. I told you about my parents and the beauty pageants.”

  He sighed. “Can we talk about this later so we aren’t overheard? We’re supposed to know all this stuff about each other. We’re married, remember?”

  She didn’t say anything. He was right except she got the feeling he was putting her off. Finally, she said, “Just one thing and I promise to shut up.”

  “Right.” One side of his mouth lifted. “What?”

  “Did you have an awful childhood?”

  He drew his head back. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because you don’t want to talk about it, and if that’s the case, that’s fine, I understand, but I really want to know.”

  “You couldn’t be further off the mark. Very normal. Both parents in the house—Dad worked, and Mom stayed at home. My brother and I were raised with a strong hand and even stronger work ethic. So, no, you don’t have to call a shrink for me.”

  “I’d guessed you had a good upbringing. You’re very courteous and—”

  “I thought you were going to shut up.”

  She jabbed him with her elbow. “Did I say courteous?”

  He grunted on impact. “You know we could keep walking, maybe down the driveway. It’s open and we can talk.”

  “It’s also getting too dark.” Disappointment pricked her. “It sounds like you’re trying to avoid me again.”

  “Not true. I just want to hurry and get the business part out of the way.”

  “Oh.”

  He stopped and picked a rose. There was a mass of the blooms, so she didn’t protest. He didn’t give it to her as she expected him to, but took it into the house with them.

  A light was on in the kitchen and the usual dim lamp shone in the parlor, but the house was quiet, the downstairs apparently deserted.

  Silently they went up to their room and Dalton locked the door behind them. Cassie’s pulse picked up speed when he turned to look at her.

  He held up the pinkish-melon-colored rose, stared at it for a second and then his gaze went back to her. “This is the exact color of your lips.”

  Her hand went to her mouth self-consciously. “But I don’t even have on any lipstick.”

  “I know. This is the way you look when you wake up in the morning.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks at the thought of him watching her as she awoke. Foolish, really, since they’d already spent three nights together. “Hurry up and tell me what you found out from your friend.”

  Dalton smiled. “Mostly what we already suspected. It looks as if Simone’s working with Bask.”

  She took the rose from him and got some water. “How did you find out?”

  “She’s got a string of aliases so she’s not exactly the model citizen, and she’s been seen in the same cities at the same time with Bask.”

  “But they’ve never been arrested together?”

  “Nope. Of course Bask is so damn sly he should’ve been arrested twenty times but hasn’t.”

  “Simone isn’t.” Cassie couldn’t help but feel some pity for the woman. “She’s a mess.”

  “Oh, yeah. What happened with her after I left?”

  “Nothing, really. The session went on without the two of you.”

  “You should try and talk to her again. Maybe she’ll either be down or drunk enough to say something.”

  “I tried. I ran after her, but Bask broke us up in a heartbeat. Sent me back to the session and then showed up, alone, five minutes later.”

  Dalton’s lips lifted in a slow smile and he gave her that look again, the one that said “nice work.” “Maybe tomorrow you’ll have another opportunity.”

  “Heck, I’ll make one.” She frowned. “What about Grant? Is he really her husband?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. But she needs one to be here so he’s probably just a hired flunky.”

  “Geez, she could have at least found someone she had some chemistry with. The way those two interact gives me the creeps.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “Please. Married people don’t act that way.”

  “Many of them do.”

  “Then they shouldn’t be married.” She saw the smirk lurking at the corners of his mouth, and she could tell he thought she was being naive just because she hadn’t been married. Tough. “Mary Jane still puzzles me. Simone’s job is obviously to stir up trouble between the couples, but how does Mary Jane fit in?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she’s clean. Simply hired help like the cook and gardener.”

  “Maybe. Of course she
does a little stirring herself.”

  “Hell, she’s too annoying to get the husbands excited.”

  Cassie looked at him in disbelief. “Right. You almost got whiplash trying to check out her thong.”

  “I did not.”

  “The hell you didn’t.”

  He grinned. “Jealous?”

  She lifted her chin. “That’ll be the day.”

  “Guess what?” He reached for her hand.

  Her pulse went bananas again. “What?”

  “Business is over,” he said, and captured her mouth with a demanding kiss.

  14

  DALTON TASTED her excitement and fear. Not fear of him; fear that something big was happening between them, something much bigger than sex. And he knew that he was a damn fool to take this relationship further.

  But he couldn’t help himself. More and more she consumed his thoughts. Never had he been so distracted from a case. Good thing it was a no-brainer assignment. In truth, had he been diligent he could have probably wrapped things up already.

  He couldn’t think about that now, though, not when Cassie was warm and soft and opening her mouth to him. She made a whimpering sound that sparked an urgency in him, and he guided her backward toward the bed.

  She immediately unbuttoned his shirt and before they got to the bed, he pulled her T-shirt over her head. Her bra was red, silky and left little to the imagination. He quickly undid the front clasp and filled his palms with her soft satiny flesh.

  Arching her head back, she moaned softly. “Dalton, take your clothes off,” she whispered feverishly. “All of them.”

  He dipped his head to take a nipple into his mouth and suckled it slowly, fighting the impulse to lie her down, pull off her jeans and spread her thighs. He wanted to taste her, be inside her, to make her scream when she came.

  “Dalton, I want you inside me.” Her whisper melted him like butter.

  She reached for his buckle and disposed of his belt in seconds. Another second and she unzipped his fly. Afraid that she’d touch him and everything would happen too quickly, he ended up confused when she didn’t even try to pull off his jeans.