Seeing Red Read online

  “I’m walking in from around the corner. Or hopping rather.”

  She hurried to let him in from the night. He wore a black T-shirt draped over his gun and faded soft Levi’s that were molded to his long, tough form, hunched slightly these days as he used the crutches to walk. There was a Lakers cap on his head and a deceptively relaxed air to him as he moved toward her.

  He held out his hand. She put the cell phone in it. Wordlessly he shifted gears and looked at the display. His jaw was scruffy, unshaven, and she stared at it while he read the text message. She remembered all the nights he’d rubbed that sexy stubble against her body, remembering the things he’d said to her, done to her, the way he’d made her feel. “I really did miss you,” she whispered softly.

  He looked at her for a beat. “I’m going to call this in.” He hobbled into the kitchen, murmured into the phone for a few minutes, then hung up and faced her. “We’ll go to the station in the morning to make a report. Do you have the accounting stuff you’ve been working through?”

  “On the table.”

  “Let’s look.”

  “It’s two in the morning.”

  “Let’s look,” he repeated stubbornly.

  They spent an hour at it, Summer showing him how she’d put the deposit slips in date order, and had painstakingly matched each to the bank statements. They typically made a deposit every day, sometimes every other. In the past twelve months, cash had gone missing out of approximately one deposit a week, the amounts varying from three hundred and fifty dollars to two thousand dollars, for a total of thirty-six thousand four hundred dollars.

  Just for the past year.

  “Multiply that by all the years they’ve been in business…” Joe let out a low whistle. “Someone’s been getting a nice bonus. Let me see the employee schedule.”

  She handed it over, but that was a problem too. There wasn’t, and never had been, a regular schedule. Tina and Camille kept it in their head, changing plans on a whim to accommodate all of them. And even if a schedule had been kept, it couldn’t be relied on because of how often it would have been adjusted at the last minute. So they went through the payroll records, through each individual time sheet, and began a new list, writing down the employees that had worked each day there’d been cash missing. It took a few hours, and when they were done, they had a new problem.

  “Not a single person worked each of these dates,” Summer said.

  “Except…” Joe looked at her, his face impassive. His fire marshal expression.

  “My mother and Tina.” She picked up the phone and dialed her mom, then listened to the phone ring and ring. “It’s five in the morning, and she’s not home. She’s probably having another hot tub episode.”

  “Hot tub episode?”

  “Yeah, her and Tina—Never mind.” She dialed her aunt’s place and got a sleepy sounding Bill.

  “I’m sorry,” Summer said. “I know it’s late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. But these accounting books have been calling my name all night. Are my mom and your wife boozing in the hot tub again?”

  “No, sorry, Camille’s not here.”

  Summer had forgotten. Her mother had taken the leap. “How about Tina? Can I talk to her?”

  “What’s up, Cookie? Because I hate to wake her. She’s been having such trouble sleeping.”

  “I know.” Summer chewed on her thumbnail. “Listen, I wish I already knew this because it makes me sound like a horrible niece and daughter for having to ask, but…”

  “What?”

  “Neither of them are in financial trouble, are they?”

  Bill laughed. “Those two penny-pinchers? Are you kidding?”

  When Summer didn’t laugh, he got serious. “Okay, what’s the matter? What did you find?”

  “Nothing concrete,” she said, suddenly deciding this would be better done in person. “Tell Tina I’ll meet her at the store in a few hours.” She clicked off and sighed.

  Joe was still sifting through the papers. “Let’s keep going.”

  Half an hour later, with the sun coming up, Summer’s cell beeped. Startled, she stared at Joe for a long breath, then looked at the message.

  Stop remembering. LEAVE. This is your final warning.

  Joe stared down at the digital display. “How spooked are you?”

  “Uh…” On a scale of one to ten, make that a twelve, please. “Not too much.”

  “Truth.”

  “Truth?” She dropped her head to the table with a thunk. “I think my mother is covering for Tina. I think Tina is covering for my mother. And that it could be either one of them is making me want to throw up.”

  He put his hand on her back and stroked. “Your polite but terrifying stalker is trying to scare you out of here because you know something.”

  “I don’t remember any more than what I’ve said.”

  “They’re not sure of that.”

  “I’m not afraid of anyone here.” She wasn’t. Her terror was bigger than that. Such as the reality of seeing someone she cared about go to prison. “Much.”

  Joe sighed, then gathered her close. “Do you want me to stay?”

  Being held by him was like coming home again. Shockingly good, shockingly right. “Yes, but it has nothing to do with being scared.” She pressed her face to his throat and inhaled his scent.

  “Red.” This was a low groan. He let out another when she licked him. “Don’t.” His arms tightened on her in direct opposition to his words. “God, don’t. I can’t resist you. It’s like every bad diet out there, I’m good for a day or two and then I have this terrible, clawing craving that I can’t escape from.”

  “So let’s satisfy the craving.”

  “I can’t do this, Red. I can’t make love to you and then get out of your bed and go home to my cold one. I hate connecting with you like I do, and then waking alone.”

  “Then don’t go home. Wake up here, with me.”

  He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her head back so he could see her face. His eyes were dark, his body tense.

  “Don’t go home tonight,” she said again. “This morning. Whatever it is. Stay with me.”

  He cupped her jaw, ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Why?”

  Leap. If her mother had done it, she sure as hell could at least try. “Maybe I want to try it on for size.”

  “Try what?”

  “You.” She smiled shakily. “Look, probably you’ve already realized, I’m a little slow at this stuff.”

  “No,” he said wryly. “Really?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I want you to be happy. I want to be the one to make you happy, but I have to go at my own pace, I just do. I can’t speed that up, Joe. Not even for you.”

  He closed his eyes, then opened them again, and they were filled with things that caught her breath. He grabbed a crutch and stood up, reaching for her. “A bed this time,” he said. “Your bed.”

  “Yes.” Turning, she put her shoulder beneath his, acting as his crutch for that side, and led him to her bedroom. The sky had just barely begun to change, lighten. A new day.

  Sunbeams slanted in through the shades, creating bands of light over her bed and the soft sheets and blanket there. He sat on them and drew her between his legs. “I like your pj’s.”

  They consisted of an oversized white T-shirt and boxers. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged his face to her middle, rubbing his jaw against her belly in a sweet, loving gesture that had her throat tightening.

  She tossed his cap aside and sank her fingers into his hair. He took his hands on a leisurely cruise down her spine, over the backs of her thighs, then her calves. Given how hot and explosive their past encounters had all been, she’d have expected him to dive in. Wanted him to dive in.

  He didn’t. He kept nuzzling her belly button, slowly bunching up her shirt until he could stick his tongue in her belly ring, then pressed a kiss to the curve of the abdomen she could never get quite flat, making her squirm.