The Phoenix Page 14

  Heady stuff, that.

  He pushed harder, his breathing ragged. His tight balls slapped at her sensitive flesh as he hammered into her, a pleasant sting that accompanied his every thrust.

  The orgasm caught her completely unaware—one moment she was determined to hold on to him, to keep running this insane race—and the next she was free-falling through sensation, high on utter bliss.

  Her heart expanded so much in her chest she felt it lodge in her throat, and the emotion that came with it was bittersweet and so extraordinary it made her eyes water.

  It didn’t matter if she never saw him again after this was over, Charlie thought. He’d always have a piece of her…whether he wanted it or not.

  HE’D WANTED HER ENOUGH to say please, Jay thought as Charlie’s tight body clung and fisted around his. That should have been warning enough, should have tipped him off that he’d waded too far in over his head.

  But that was the thing about drowning, wasn’t it? A person didn’t realize it was happening until it was too damned late.

  She kissed his shoulder, her hot mouth sliding over his skin, downy soft and moist. Honestly, did she have any idea what she was doing to him? How she’d somehow managed to make him beg to bed her when he’d only ever used please as a courtesy, never as a plea?

  She’d hesitated, he knew. He’d been able to feel it, sensed it even. But he’d had to make her want him, he’d had to win, and now, too late, he knew why she’d tried to hold her ground.

  Because the minute he’d pushed inside her again, his own ground had abruptly vanished from beneath his feet.

  Everything had shifted. Whatever it was between them had gone from being hot and insane to equally hot but emotionally compromised. With every frantic, frenzied thrust into her welcoming body he felt the bond between them strengthening, his desire to claim and protect pushing everything else out of the way. Good sense, reason, logic.

  None of that mattered.

  Only her. Only how she made him feel.

  Honestly, he’d thought if he focused more on the sex—on bringing her release—he’d be able to flee the inescapable truth bearing down on him.

  She wasn’t just his “special friend,” as she’d said…she was special.

  Unique, matchless, rare.

  And though he couldn’t have met her at a more inopportune moment, he grimly suspected that he was going to have to have her.

  Permanently.

  The thought had no sooner flitted through his mind when release claimed him. He buried his toes into the mattress, lifted her up and dived deep, lodging himself as far into her as he could. His vision clouded, blackened, then refocused in Technicolor. He shuddered as sensation rocketed through him, leaving him weak and sated and undeniably hers.

  And for the first time in his life, truly vulnerable.

  He didn’t like that one damned bit.

  14

  CHARLIE WAS ALMOST thankful that everything went to hell in a handbasket mere minutes after she’d made it to her own room. Aggie roused the house with news that she’d received the first text message from the dognappers. It wasn’t the first digits of the account number as expected, but a time-stamped thirty-second-long video of Truffles.

  “She’s alive!” Aggie cried, her face wreathed in a smile, her eyes watering with joy.

  She was indeed, Charlie thought. It couldn’t be anything short of healthy to be arched up like that, making her contribution to fertilizing the earth, could it?

  Jay grimaced comically, his expression a far cry from the sleepy-eyed look of sexual happiness she’d seen only minutes before. “Is it—”

  “Yes,” Charlie confirmed. “It is.”

  “Gross,” Jasmine said, peering over Aggie’s shoulder. “Oh, God! Look! She’s running around like she’s won the Doggy Poop of the Year Award or something.”

  “She’s always done that,” Aggie said fondly, her throat sounding choked. “It’s charming, isn’t it?”

  Yes, Charlie thought. The little dog was nothing short of adorable. She and Jay shared a look and he made a quick grimace of disgust then gave his head a shake, as though the happy dance didn’t make up for the fact that they’d just watched a dog poop. It was all she could do not to laugh. He suddenly stilled, his attention diverted to the lettering on the back of Jasmine’s T-shirt. She felt him go on point, completely alert, and his gaze swung immediately back to hers. He glanced significantly at her, then cleared his throat.

  “The Pancake Palace and Tattoo Parlor?” Jay remarked, laughing. “That’s an interesting combination.”

  Jasmine smiled up at him, blatantly flirting. “It’s an interesting place.”

  He played along. A little too well if you asked Charlie. “Want to see my ink?”

  At Jasmine’s nod, he lifted the sleeve of his shirt, revealing an orange and red bird rising out of a nest of flames. It was beautifully done, eminently significant—he wouldn’t have put it on his body otherwise—and she didn’t know how on earth she’d missed it.

  “It’s a phoenix,” he said.

  “It looks new,” Jasmine remarked, sounding impressed.

  His gaze skittered to Charlie’s, then darted away. “It is. I’ve only had it a few months. What about you? Have you got any ink?”

  She turned and lifted the hem of her shirt to reveal two crossed fishhooks along with a man’s name and dates of birth and death.

  Her father, Charlie realized. The shirt, the bobber, an unobstructed view of the backyard. In a nanosecond she realized why the block letters on the ransom note had been niggling at her—some of them had been cut out from the pamphlet that Burt had given her.

  Charlie didn’t know why—though she’d find out soon enough—but Jasmine had definitely had something to do with taking Truffles.

  “William Harris,” Jay read, shooting Jasmine a questioning look.

  “He was my father.”

  Jay winced. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “It’s all right,” she said. “Burt’s kind of taken me under his wing.”

  So she’d kidnapped the dog for Burt? Because she thought he’d been slighted by Marigold? But why ask for so much?

  Fuck it, Charlie thought. She knew where to get the answers. Though she didn’t think she’d telegraphed her intent, Jay gave Aggie a little nudge out of the way, leaving a better path for the kick she abruptly swept in Jasmine’s direction.

  The girl dropped like a stone, the breath whooshing out of her as her back hit the kitchen floor. Smokey stood so fast his chair fell, Aggie screamed and put a hand to her throat and Jay put himself between Jasmine and the door.

  Charlie dropped to her knees, straddling Jasmine, and grabbed her wrist until she screamed. “Listen to me,” Charlie told her, her tone lethal. “You are going to get one opportunity to tell me the truth—just one,” she emphasized. “And if you don’t do it I’m going to hurt you in ways you’ve never imagined. Do I make myself clear?”

  Jasmine’s panicked gaze darted around the kitchen. “Get her off of me! She’s attacking me!”

  “No, I’m subduing you,” Charlie told her. She smiled without humor. “You’ll know when I attack. Where’s Truffles?”

  Jasmine whimpered, looked away. “I don’t know.”

  Charlie applied more pressure.

  “I don’t know!” she screamed, thrashing wildly. “Really! I gave her to Andrew! He’s g-got her,” she sobbed.

  She and Jay shared a look. “Did you see any evidence of the dog when you were over there?”

  “No, but he would have hidden it, wouldn’t he?”

  Unshed tears sparkled in Aggie’s eyes. “Why, Jasmine? Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I did it for Burt,” she said, glaring darkly at the older woman. “It wasn’t right that the rest of you had benefited so much and he was excluded just because he was a little different. What would it have mattered if he’d given the whole lot of it to his UFO club? It should have been his reward to do with as he p
leased. Andrew promised to make it right if I took Truffles. Fair is fair.”

  “That’s right,” Charlie told her. “Did Burt ever tell you that Goldie Betterworth bought him his house?”

  Jasmine blinked. “What? But that’s not—”

  “She did,” Aggie confirmed sadly. “Goldie rewarded everyone who had served her well, who’d worked hard and was worthy. The only people she excluded were the lazy, entitled ones who were more interested in frittering away their legacy than preserving it.”

  Jasmine shook her head. “But that’s not— Andrew told me—”

  “What did Burt tell you?” Jay asked.

  “Nothing,” she said dully. “He never complained.”

  “That’s because he didn’t have a reason to,” Charlie told her.

  Seemingly oblivious to the scene in the kitchen, Josie strolled in and immediately went to stand by Aggie’s side. She looked down at the phone and smiled. “Aw, that looks just like Taffy’s dog.”

  “Andrew’s sister’s dog?” Jay asked. “Isn’t Taffy out of the country?”

  Josie nodded. “She is, but her housekeeper is home. Rosalind is taking care of her while Taffy’s away.”

  “How do you know this?” Aggie asked her.

  “Andrew told me. We had to drop some toys by there day before yesterday.” She winced. “Evidently she’d been chewing up all the corners of the rugs.”

  “And you saw her?” Jay asked. “You’re certain this is the dog?”

  Josie hesitated. “As sure as I can be with only seeing her for a few minutes. Her nails were painted pink and had little blings attached to them.” She grinned. “It was so cute.”

  Both Jay and Charlie looked at Aggie, who was so overwrought she couldn’t speak, but nodded in confirmation. Smokey had moved up behind her, his hand placed protectively on the small of her back. The sight made a lump swell in Charlie’s throat. Ill-timed, but there all the same.

  Just then Aggie’s phone chirped with a new message.

  The first of the routing numbers had arrived.

  JAY LEAPED INTO ACTION. “Charlie, go work your computer magic.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Charlie snatched the cell phone from Aggie’s hand and raced from the room.

  “Smokey, can you see to—”

  Smokey jerked Jasmine up by the arm and propelled her to a chair. “I’ll watch her.”

  Jay looked at Josie. “Can you get me back to Taffy’s?”

  She nodded.

  A thought struck. “Are you afraid? If so, you can give me directions and I’ll—”

  “I’ll be fine,” Josie assured him with a smile. “Charlie taught me a few things.”

  “Then let’s go.” He made for the door. “Aggie, you keep me posted on what’s happening here. We can’t be sure that he hasn’t moved the dog, but on the off chance that she’s still at Taffy’s I want the element of surprise.”

  Aggie nodded and stiffened her spine. She sent a dark look at Jasmine, who quailed beneath that ominous stare. “Meanwhile, I’m going to call the police,” Aggie said. “No one messes with my dog and gets away with it.”

  Smokey glanced at Jasmine, who’d begun to cry. “She’s a sweet woman,” he told her. “But there’s no worse place to be than on her bad side.”

  Jay barely caught Smokey’s last remark and laughed softly under his breath. He imagined that was a true enough adage for all women.

  He’d no sooner squealed out of the driveway before his cell phone rang. “She’s not going to be there,” Aggie told him. “I just got a message that he’s going to leave her in the park on Calhoun Street. It’s—”

  “I know where it is,” Jay told her. “I passed it on my way in.”

  “Hurry, Jay,” she fretted. “I’d hate for someone else to take her because we were too late.” He sped up, hitting the accelerator hard.

  “How’s Charlie doing?”

  A pause, then, “She’s typing fast and mumbling under her breath.”

  Atta girl, Jay thought, his diabolical little master hacker. “I’m going to the park,” he said. “Don’t worry, Aggie.” He disconnected and nudged the speedometer higher.

  “You’re going to get a ticket,” Josie remarked, with a white-knuckled grip on the seat.

  “Close your eyes,” he suggested. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  “Yep,” she agreed grimly. “All the way to the scene of the crash.”

  A startled laugh stuttered out of his throat. With that sort of sense of humor, he was confident that Josie Miller was going to be just fine. He negotiated a tight turn, passed a car that was going too slowly and narrowly missed a squirrel.

  His cell rang again, but this time it was Smokey. “Come back,” he said. “Jasmine just told us he’s going to put the dog back into the yard the same way that she got it out—with a fishing pole and a net.”

  Jay stomped on the brake, did an illegal U-turn and hurried back in the other direction.

  Josie turned green and clamped her hand over her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Jay looked over and a couple of puckered marks on her hand caught his attention. “What happened to your hand?” he asked. He knew what it looked like, but…

  She blinked. “Oh. Andrew had a thing for fire,” she said. Her voice hardened. “I was his favorite thing to burn.”

  Jesus. And that psychopath was going to deliver the dog to the house? But why? Why would he take such a risk? Why would he hazard getting that close to being caught?

  Jay’s cell rang, but before he could answer it the sound of a siren blared behind him and then a fire truck sped past.

  His heart dropped to his feet.

  Oh, no. No, no, no.

  Josie gasped, spying the smoke from down the street about the same time he did. Hands shaking, his stomach full of lead and dread, he hurtled down the drive, shoved the gearshift into Park and darted from the car, leaving the door open and the engine running. Aggie, with tears streaming and the dog clutched to her chest, Smokey, Jasmine and Burt were all outside on the front lawn. Burt had Andrew pinned to the ground.

  Charlie was nowhere to be seen.

  He slowed as he neared them. “Where’s Charlie?”

  “She’s in there,” Smokey told him, his eyes full of regret. “He threw it right into the library. A Molotov cocktail.”

  Jay barely heard him, the blood was pounding in his ears so hard. He darted past one fireman and was almost in the door when another snagged him by the arm. “Hey, buddy, you can’t go in there.”

  Jay violently shrugged him off and darted through the door. Flames licked up the sides of the walls and curled around the ceiling, the smoke so thick it burned his eyes and scalded his throat. “Charlie!” he screamed, desperate to find her. “Charlie!” He dropped down onto his belly and crawled to the library, choking on the thick smoke, feeling the heat roll down on his back.

  Not her, not her, not her.

  He couldn’t bear it if she—

  He couldn’t even think it. Closed his mind down to the possibility of anything but a perfect, smiling Charlie, his Kitty-Cat, and focused solely on finding her. The fire blazed higher at the back of the library, which was where she’d set up. She said she’d liked the view better.

  No, no, no…

  “Charlie!”

  He kept crawling into furniture and over bits of broken glass, but he pushed on. He had to find her. Couldn’t let it get her, too. Couldn’t fail her as he’d failed his friends. He—

  Jay spied her hand beneath the desk and relief poured through him. He scrambled forward, grabbed her and pulled her toward him. She was limp as a dishrag. “Charlie!”

  Nothing.

  No, no, no…

  He gathered her up, then stood and raced through the smoke and flames back the way he’d come. He barreled out the front door, dropped to his knees in the cool grass and screamed for help.

  Or at least he tried. No sound emerged from his mouth. He was afraid to look down at her,
afraid of what he’d see.

  And that was the last thought he had before collapsing.

  15

  CHARLIE AWOKE TO THE sound of various beeping noises, the feel of scratchy sheets against her cheek and the strong scent of antiseptic cleaner.

  “Now you’ve done gone and woken her up,” a male voice she vaguely recognized complained.

  She pushed up from the hospital bed, her hand still firmly around Jay’s, and looked toward the door.

  Brian Payne, Jamie Flanagan and Guy McCann stood just inside the room.

  “We came to relieve you,” Payne told her. “You need to rest.”

  They’d had this conversation before already and she won every time. She didn’t know why they kept bothering. “I’ll rest when he wakes up.”

  She turned away from them, gazed at Jay, tracing the woefully familiar lines of his face. Other than a few blisters around his mouth and his cracked lips, one would never know that he’d been in a terrible fire. His right arm—his shoulder, specifically—was another matter altogether.

  His phoenix was gone.

  “We brought backup this time,” Jamie told her.

  She didn’t bother to turn around. “It doesn’t matter if you brought the friggin’ National Guard. I’m not leaving.”

  “Charlie,” a familiar voice said.

  She gasped and whirled. “Juan Carlos! I thought you were on vacation!”

  “I was,” he said, opening his arms. “But the Atlantic Ocean isn’t going anywhere and I heard you might need me.”

  Tears burned the backs of Charlie’s eyes and she launched herself at him, more grateful than she could ever imagine to see her friend. Sobs wrenched from her still-raw throat and she relived the horror of the past forty-eight hours.