She pulled his shirt from his slacks and kneaded his hard chest. Joe was all man, all cop, lean and ripped.
He unholstered his gun and dropped it on the counter, then pushed her onto the kitchen table, her copy of the crime photos flying. Her shirt flew in another direction, and when his mouth found her breasts she moaned. He nibbled at her, hard enough for her to feel his teeth but not hard enough to hurt. He pushed his hand down the front of her jeans and found her wet spot. He grinned at her as he slipped in one finger, then another, a promise for what would come as soon as she stripped. She kneaded her fingers over the heavy bulge in his pants and his cat-ate-canary smile disappeared. He fought with her jeans. “God, Suzi.”
She pulled his head to hers and bit his ear, then licked it, his muscles tensing under her moving hands. He unzipped her jeans.
Her phone rang.
“Don’t you dare,” he growled in her ear, pinning her to the table.
She closed her eyes and reached for the button of his pants.
Her phone kept singing to her. AFI’s “Miss Murder.” Headquarters.
She pushed Joe off and grabbed her phone.
“Madeaux.”
“This is Ray Jordan from the night desk. I have Assistant Director Hans Vigo from national headquarters on the line for you.”
“I’ll take it.”
Joe walked across the room and stared out the window, all sweaty and sexy. She turned her back to him.
Two clicks later and Dr. Hans Vigo said, “I’m sorry to bother you this late at night, but it’s important.”
“What can I do for you Assistant Director?”
“You worked with SSA Tony Presidio today, correct?”
“Yes.” Suzanne knew immediately something was up. Not just because of a call from an assistant director but also because of his tone. “The murder of Rosemary Weber, which I’m working with NYPD.”
“I need all your reports and a detailed list of every place Tony went while he was in New York. Anything you can remember about what he said and did.”
“Of course; may I ask why?” She picked her shirt off the floor and slipped it on. She held her phone with her shoulder and began to button it up.
“He died of a heart attack thirty minutes after arriving back at Quantico.”
Suzanne sat down, forgetting about her shirt.
“He went back early to go through his notes. I had no idea he was ill.”
“He left a message for me before he boarded the plane in LaGuardia, concerned about FBI exposure on this case. Do you know what he was talking about?”
“No, sir. We discovered some of Weber’s files were missing, and Tony’s having an analyst re-create them off shorthand notes. Unless-he did leak specific information to the press about how we know the killer staged Weber’s murder to look like a robbery. He’s hoping the killer will try to pawn the ring to prove us wrong.”
“Thereby proving us right,” Hans said. “Sounds like Tony. Stay on it, and keep me in the loop. I’m heading down to Quantico in the morning to take care of Tony’s affairs.”
Joe smiled but didn’t look at her. He walked back toward the kitchen and grabbed his gun off the counter.
“I’ll send you everything first thing in the morning.” She hung up. “Joe-”
He shook his head, leaned over, and kissed her. “Next time, I’ll flush your phone.”
“There won’t-”
He put his hand over her mouth. “There’s always a next time.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ten Years Ago
No one was happy with me that I’d lied about my parents being dead, especially not my parents. But in my defense, they were dead to me. Grams had been my legal guardian for five years, but I was fourteen when she died and the idiot judge thought that I had to live with someone. He picked my mom.
Mom and Dad had divorced after the trial and Mom tried to force me to live with her. Grams had been stronger then and stood up to my mom. Mom cried, but I just kept my thoughts focused on all the lies she’d told. Grams had been as hurt as I was, because Mom was her daughter. I might have only been nine during the trial, but I understood a lot more than people thought. I told Grams not to blame herself, that Mom made me live with the consequences of my bad choices, like when I thought the Jacuzzi would make a good bubble bath or when I went over to Jared’s house to play his war games after Mom said I couldn’t play any games rated M. I was grounded for a month.
Mom and Dad made bad choices-it was like that FBI agent said; some bad choices have unforeseen consequences. That doesn’t make it okay to lie.
Grams and I had a tacit agreement that day. We could talk about Mom or Dad or what happened to Rachel, but we’d remember only the fun things, like when Grandpa taught Rachel and me to fish or when Grams taught us to bake.
And then Grams was gone, just like Grandpa and just like Rachel, who I remembered more than I wanted.
It was my second week back living with my mom, the day I started high school, and Mom drove me to the campus. As if being a freshman who was shorter than everyone else as well as notorious wasn’t bad enough, Mom had to pick a fight.
“You need to forgive me.”
“For what?”
“For what happened to Rachel.”
“You didn’t kill her.”
“Don’t talk about it.”
“You started it.”
I’d never have talked to Grams like I spoke to my mom, but I loved and respected Grams.
I looked at my mom. Pilar McMahon. Forty-five. Dyed her hair and wore too much makeup.
“Do you know how sorry I am? Do you know how much I have suffered these five years? Knowing what happened to Rachel, knowing that you never wanted to see me again.”
And if Grams was still alive, I wouldn’t be having this conversation now.
“Peter, please.”
Mom didn’t know what I knew. That in the last week I’d heard the front door close in the middle of the night. That even when she thought she was being quiet her bed hit the wall. I might not have known had I not been raised to the same sounds.
“Are you still a slut?”
She slapped me. I got out of the car and didn’t look back.
The first day of high school wasn’t the worst day of my life, but it was in the top ten.
It was the end of the day, when I went to my locker to get my things, that bad went to worse. I found a note.
I’M WATCHING YOU.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FBI Academy
During her first week on campus, Lucy had discovered the secluded, parklike area behind Hogan’s Alley while exploring the campus with Margo and Reva. She’d come here many times when she needed to be alone. Because of the trees and overhanging branches, the circle was ten degrees cooler in the heat of the day and, better, it afforded privacy.
She sat heavily on a fallen log early Friday morning, after running five miles on the track trying to work out the grief of Tony’s death. The run had left her drained instead of invigorated, her emotions on overdrive.
The sun was still low on the horizon, the air crisp and clean in the clear summer dawn. It would be a beautiful morning before the heat became unbearable. But she wouldn’t enjoy it. Too many feelings, too many questions.
A breaking twig caught her attention, and then a voice: “Lucy, it’s me.”
“Sean?” She jumped up, stunned. “What are you doing here?”
“I know you were close to Tony. I asked Kate to get me in.” He walked over and hugged her. “Your friend Margo told me you’d probably be here.”
“I needed to get away from everyone.”
He sat down and she leaned against him. It was good to have Sean here, even if it was just for a few minutes. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s a long drive.”
“Kate said I could stay for breakfast.” He smiled, then looked at her, worry in his eyes. “You okay?”