Chapter 4
Juliet and Carlton continue to follow leads and check their work, but no more suspects are coming into the picture.
"Do you really think Shawn is psychic?" I ask her at one point.
"I couldn't say for sure that he is, but he's found clues and leads that I don't know how else someone could have known. Either way, he gets results." Later that day, Juliet gets a call from Shawn with a tip. But it doesn't head the way he seems to have expected it to. Yes, there were calls from a real estate agent to the dead guy, but there were a lot more from someone else. This time, Gus' mother. Not a good holiday season for their family.
"This is tragic. Is arresting people always this difficult?" I ask Juliet before she leaves. Carlton waits impatiently nearby.
"Usually you don't have a connection to the culprit, so, no. But this is part of the job."
Ruefully, the detectives head over to arrest Mrs. Burton. I stay at the station. I don't think I want to see that. Besides, on the way back, I would have to share the backseat with the arrestee, and that might be awkward. The case against the mother is actually stronger, since this brings more motive into the situation. The father didn't have much reason to kill the old guy, so it's possible he wouldn't have gotten convicted.
Once back at the station, Mrs. Burton and her family and Shawn are in one of the interrogation rooms. Technically, no one is supposed to be in the attached observation room right now, but I was curious what it was like, and what's going on in the other room. In the unlikely event that either arrestee confesses, I'll keep that information to myself.
My heart breaks a little at the strain this family is under, especially the mother. What a terrifying prospect to face, and during Christmas no less. Their babying of Gus is a little humorous though, despite the awful situation.
"Hey, you're not supposed to be in here," Carlton calls from the door. I was too fixated on the scene playing out on the other side to hear him enter.
"Sorry, curiosity and all that." I tear my gaze from the spectacle on the other side. God, those blue eyes.
"Just don't tell me if you heard anything incriminating."
"I didn't, honestly." He nods and lingers inside a moment longer, and we hold each other's gaze. I know I need to say something before he leaves. "I'm sorry if it was weird, me showing up here today. My dad wants me to get to know Juliet better, so he wanted us to spend the day together."
"No worries. It's actually, umm. Kind of nice to see you. You look good," he says after a moment's hesitation. I smile and bite my lip.
"You do too," I say softly. We seem to have gotten much closer to each other without realizing it. I pull myself up to my tiptoes by his lapel and plant a kiss on his lips. I can feel the stress melting off his body as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. His hands run over my backside and legs, appreciating the curves of my body more slowly than last night. He squeezes, and I moan. The hard erection pressing against my pelvis is rapidly getting me very wet.
"Carlton," I whisper when he breaks away to kiss at my neck. I grab his belt, pulling his hips against me to better feel him. His hands are tangled in my hair and running all over my body. I have completely lost myself to his kiss, his hands, his musky scent.
The door creaks open, and he jumps back a good foot, straightening his tie and smoothing his shirt while doing so. In the few heartbeats before the door fully opens, I smooth my hair and clothes. Good thing Carlton reacted so quickly, because Juliet enters.
"Oh, I'm surprised you're both here. But, since you are, let's start the interrogation. Lassiter, do you want to do it, or should I?"
"I'll do it since I have more experience on this type of case." Juliet and I watch as he kicks the others out and begins the interrogation. He starts nice enough, but he gradually gets increasingly hostile. It makes me a little uncomfortable to watch him berating this woman, so I leave after a while. I don't think the interrogation will go on for much longer anyways, since, to Carlton's frustration, she's sticking to the story I heard her tell her family – that the man was blackmailing her, but that she didn't kill him.
Back upstairs, Shawn and Gus are still lingering, talking to some of the cops. Psychic my ass. He's just a regular investigator. I grab some water, and they approach me.
"So, Jasmine. How are you liking the ol' SBPD?"
"It's been interesting, watching the detectives work. I'm sorry about your parents, Gus. I know the evidence looks bad, but I don't think they did it."
"Great, could you say something about that to Juliet and Lassiter maybe?" he says a little frustrated.
"They think the same things, but right now, they are the only suspects there are, and the evidence is strong against them."
"Maybe you could help influence Lassiter though," Shawn says.
"What?" I snap, immediately on guard. There's no way he could know, right? Unless he really is psychic…
"What? I'm sensing some sort of relationship blooming between you." I can feel my face going white. "Paternal in nature, perhaps?" Yeah, he's definitely not psychic.
"Oh, yeah, hit the nail on the head with that one." I think my sarcasm might be a little too obvious. They exchange a glance, but I turn away, assuming the conversation is over. Shawn pursues, however.
"I just don't see what else it could be. I mean, he was all on edge when Gus and I were meeting you. And since you're waaay out of his league to be interested in him, let alone the age difference, that's the only possibility." I spin around to face him.
"One: none of that is actually any of your business. Two: don't you have Gus' parents to be getting off of murder charges?" With an annoyed little scoff, he leaves. It's not like Carlton and I would face any actual consequences for our little fling, but I don't see a point in dealing with the backlash that might occur. The age difference would bring judgement on us both, as would Carlton's dalliance with his partner's sister, step or not. Considering that this won't outlast the week, I would rather our sexual encounters not be public knowledge. And I have no idea how Juliet would react.
With two suspects arrested and facing charges, for the rest of the afternoon, Juliet and Carlton move on to a carjacking case until Juliet gets a call from Shawn requesting her and Lassiter at the dead man's estate sale.
So, the three of us go into Carlton's car and head down there, arriving just in time to watch Gus get oddly close to a bunch of elderly women and, what must be accidentally, buy a Confederate flag. Suddenly, Shawn starts freaking out – coming careening towards Juliet, myself, and Lassiter, who gives him a firm push away. So strong, I can't help but thinking.
Shawn then starts speaking in a bizarre old man voice, shuffling around. I am intrigued by his methods. Then, he accuses one innocent looking old woman of murdering "Old Man Fuller." Carlton and Juliet exchange a skeptical glance, but I'm willing to give Shawn the benefit of the doubt. The longer he talks, the more the evidence stacks up, until Mrs. Mitchell so much as confesses. Juliet jumps forward, cuffing the woman and leading her away, and Carlton sheepishly informs Gus that the charges against his parents will be dropped.
After that rather eventful day, the evening at Ms. O'Hara's is even less eventful. Juliet and I are certainly getting along better now, however, so I have someone to pass the evening with. Just after dinner, the doorbell rings. Juliet and I were whispering conspiratorially about how one of her Aunts married her boss, who ran away from his family to be with her, so we open it.
"Carlton," Juliet answers, a note of pleasant surprise in her voice. I don't say anything, too overwhelmed by the sexual possibilities his arrival brings. I am going to leave tomorrow morning, so I didn't think there would be a chance to actually finish what we started last night.
"I'm sorry I had to cut out early yesterday, so I wanted to get another chance to meet everyone, if that's alright, O'Hara."
"Of course, come on in. Yeah, let me introduce you to everyone, just one moment. Let me go tell my mom we'll need another place setting for dinner."
"Oh, no, I won't stay long, no need to inconvenience anyone."
"Nonsense! You have to stay. I'll be just one second." As Juliet leaves, Carlton and I are alone in the entry way. The tension between us in tangible.
"It's nice to see you again, Detective," I say with mock formality. He takes a few steps closer to me and gropes my ass.
"Same to you, Jasmine. Tell me, if you cut out of here early, would anyone notice?" he asks in a whisper. I suppose I could say I decided to leave tonight.
"Depends – can I stay the night at your place?"
"That depends. Are you okay with not spending all that much time sleeping?" I have to hold back a moan. God, he's sexy.
"With you, definitely." We hear footfalls and break apart.
"My mom is thrilled to have you over since she didn't really get the chance to meet you, and she's been dying to, so you absolutely have to stay. C'mon, let me introduce you too." Juliet beckons him away, and I give him a little wave as he departs down the hall. I'll give them some peace. It might look a little odd if he and I are constantly seen together all evening. Besides, I need to find my dad and tell him I decided not to spend the night and instead drive back home tonight.
When we sit down for dinner, I make sure that Juliet is between the two of us. The way I have worked it out in my mind, Carlton will say goodbye, and wait in his car down the street, and about fifteen minutes I'll leave and follow him to his place. The anticipation is making my underwear damp. I cannot wait to have him between my legs again. And hopefully this time use those handcuffs.
Carlton and I end up refilling our drinks at the same time in the kitchen, what passes as nothing more than a coincidence to all but the two of us, and I take the opportunity to whisper my plan to him. He acknowledges it, and though he offers to relieve some of the suspense of waiting with a quickie in the hall closet, and I decline. We're at the home stretch now, and I don't want to be caught by the entire O'Hara family the night I leave.
When the time finally comes for me to make my getaway, I am so relieved to leave. Yes, Juliet is very nice, but I am not all that into her family nor my own for that matter. So, when I hug them all goodbye, stress melts away. And that moment of relief is replaced by excitement, for I enter my car and drive down the block, there Carlton. I follow him a little bit across town, and then into a cute little yellow house. He parks in the garage, I park on the curb, and he kindly walks back over to carry my bag in for me.
We walk inside, entering into the kitchen, and there is even more tension between us than there was before. We're alone, and we both know exactly what's coming next. I'm breathing heavily with excitement and lust, and I can tell he's doing the same.
"So, this is my place. Kitchen, living room is over there, my bedroom is down the hall…" the sentence trails off with a bit of awkwardness at the open invitation. I take a few steps towards him and run my hands across his chest. He stares at me, swallowing hard. I gaze back unabashedly. I move with an agonizing slowness.
First, I loosen his tie, then undo the first few buttons on his shirt, and push his suit jacket off. He drops my bag to the floor with a heavy thud, and swats my hands away.
"I haven't waited all night for you to take your time," he says with a growl, tearing off my sweater.
"That's more like it," I encourage and grab his mouth in a passionate exchange. Feeding off his energy, I rip open his shirt, and he tugs my skirt off my legs, all whist stumbling towards the direction of his bedroom. In our wake, we leave a trail of discarded clothing items.
I'm boiling with lust; I think I might explode. I scratch at his bare chest and am rewarded by him pushing me up against the wall in a passionate kiss, my hands pinned to the wall in one of his. His free hand unhooks my bra, and he releases his hold on me to let it fall to the ground. I take the opportunity to scurry out of his reach and to the doorway that leads to the bedroom. His slacks are very obviously tented, and his slightly-gray chest hair bares his masculinity. Clad in only my lacy thong and thigh-highs, I give what I hope is a very seductive beckon before I turn to enter the bedroom.
