CHAPTER NINE
Rated M. All aboard the Smut Bus to Smut City!
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They invited Lassiter to sit in on the further questioning of Phyllis Napoli Thursday afternoon. Vick had decided she should be called in before they invested too much more time in going around her to identify the lover, and since Lincoln had to go back to his home turf on Friday for a court appearance, saving time was in everyone's best interests.
Lassiter leaned against the wall by the mirror in interrogation, arms folded, watching Mrs. Napoli without any particular expression. Juliet was across from him, Lincoln to her left.
A box of tissues sat on the table. The widow seemed to need them.
Juliet began. "Mrs. Napoli, we've asked you here today to help us find out who killed your husband. I know you don't want to hear it, but right now our chief suspect is the man you were involved with."
"No, it's not possible."
"I'm sure you feel that way, but telling us who he is can help him. You'd like to clear his name, wouldn't you?"
"But you don't have a name," she pointed out with a trace of confusion.
Lincoln said calmly, "We'll get his name."
Juliet added, "It's better for everyone if you save us the trouble of questioning your friends, neighbors and relatives. A lot more private. You might even consider that you owe your husband that much."
Mrs. Napoli burst out, "I loved my husband! I never wanted to hurt him. This… this just happened. It just happened!"
"You may not have wanted to hurt him, but someone did. Someone murdered him. And right now, you're the reason. That means you're the only person who can make this right."
She shook her head, tearful but obstinate. "I don't believe anyone who loved me could kill Jim. I don't believe anyone I loved could kill Jim. This is some strange mistake. I can't explain it and I can't even imagine why anyone would want him dead, but it's not… it's not who you think it is. It just can't be."
"Mrs. Napoli, you have to help us. Your husband would want you to help us. We're not going to stop looking for this man, and we can wait a long time to find out who it is, because there's no statute of limitations on murder. By refusing to help us, by refusing to give this man a chance to prove his innocence, you're ensuring that you won't have any kind of life with him."
The widow blew her nose, and remained silent.
Lassiter spoke. "You didn't know he was going to do it, did you?"
She glanced at him sharply. "I don't know what you're talking about. I told you; no one I loved could do this to Jim."
"People we love do all kinds of things. People we love betray our trust and break our hearts all the time. Sometimes they mean to do it. Sometimes they don't care. Sometimes hurting us is the last thing they want. But it happens. Your lover may have simply wanted you all to himself. He may have thought that by making it look like natural causes, you'd be able to start a life with him with a clear conscience. So much better than a nasty divorce. So much less pain."
Mrs. Napoli was staring at him, listening closely, but Juliet couldn't see any real signs that she was changing her mind.
Lassiter went on, slowly, "You're already wondering if we're right. You're already going over in your mind all the clues there might have been that this man could take such a drastic step to be with you. You're thinking about it."
She swallowed.
He stepped over to the table and bent down, his cool blue gaze locked to hers. "But here's the thing, Mrs. Napoli. We're thinking about it, too. Not about what clues your lover gave you, but about what clues you're giving us. What clues you'll continue to give us. If you don't want to give us a name, okay. If that's what makes you feel safe. But you're going to feel a lot worse when we find out anyway, and it's not going to make your lover feel any better about you talking to us. Your lover… is going to wonder about you." He straightened up.
For a moment she didn't move; she just stared at him in fear and confusion. For a few moments after that she stared at the tissue in her hand, blinking and sniffling a little.
Then she said shakily, "I would like to go home now."
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. . .
The report had been filed and Lassiter was still at the station, talking to Dobson about his classes, while Juliet and Lincoln finished up for the day.
"Too bad about the timing of my court appearance," Lincoln said. "I think we need to move faster on this now. She's going to warn the guy and he's going to ground. Even if we figure out quick who he is, he's just going to hide and make it all take a lot longer."
"I know. I'll take an officer into the neighborhood tomorrow. Someone will have a theory and point us in the right direction."
"Take Lassiter," he suggested. "If he's free."
She glanced at the man in question, who was going into Vick's office just then, and pretended to find the suggestion of only casual interest. "Good idea. I'll find out his schedule. See you Monday?"
He nodded, and was off.
Lassiter came out of Vick's office again; Vick followed to ask if he was thinking about how much he missed work and he smiled but made no answer, coming over to Juliet instead.
A little embarrassed by how much she wanted this, she asked, "Are you free for dinner?"
"Yes, I am." His smile for her was vaguely seductive. She felt like he was touching her, but there was a respectable distance between them. "Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"
"Of course." She looked around, checked her watch, and suggested the observation room back downstairs. Leading the way, she wondered what he needed to discuss and hoped it would involve kissing, because just the sight of him was making her thrum.
He closed the door behind them and caught her hands, then pushed her back against the wall, pinning her in place with his body. "Hi," he said softly.
"You read my mind," she said, and that was all, because his mouth on hers prevented further speech. Oh, such hot kisses, such deep, need-filled kisses.
He nuzzled her neck, pressing hard against her, and Juliet's hands escaped his grasp and found their way under his jacket, running up and down his back, wishing his damn shirt wasn't in the way.
Lassiter for his part took a more direct approach; with his tongue now dancing against hers, he slid his hands under her skirt, under her panties, touching and kneading her bare skin, and now she wished fiercely for those hands to be all over her body, not just there, though there was nice... niiiiiiiice... not nice at all but then the next thing she knew, somehow she had her hands directly on his skin under his slacks, and oh hell yeah, that was sexy, his lips on her ear, his breath on her throat, one hand moving to slide up under her blouse to cup her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple under the lace, and then his mouth was locked on hers again and if there'd been a table in the room she'd be on it, skirt up, legs around his, but damn reality, damn the inconvenience of damned reality...
He dragged himself away from her roughly, as if she were a force stronger than one man could resist. "Holy crap," he said raggedly. "What you do to me... I can't..." He rubbed his face hard.
Juliet felt limp. Drained. "It's mutual."
"It was just going to be a kiss." His tone was wondering. "Just a kiss."
"I don't think we have those." She leaned against the wall because it was either that or slump to the floor bonelessly.
"Makes me wonder if we'd ever have gotten any work done if this had started while we were partners."
She laughed weakly, and he came back to her, put his hands on either side of her shoulders, and kissed her hard, matching the pressure of his mouth with the pressure of his lower body against hers.
She hooked one leg around his to shift their bodies together even more intimately, and he busied himself with unbuttoning her blouse enough to be able to nuzzle her breasts above the lace line of her bra. But then his hands found their way back under her skirt, and to her shock and pleasure, one wicked hand slid around to her front, making her shudder in anticipation.
"I want you," he growled, and slid that hand over her panties, moving unerringly down toward the heat she had for him, stroking her lightly and maddeningly.
Her response was to drive her tongue into his mouth, which attack he met with his own full force, both of them gasping for air but unable to stop kissing.
But damn, damn, damn, Lassiter stopped it again just before his fingers slid under that final wispy bit of fabric. "Not here. God, not here."
Dammit. He was right, and she hated that he was right. She collapsed against him, her face in the curve of his neck, and the wanting was incredible.
"We have to get out of here," he said after a time, holding her tight to him. "Come on, baby."
Somehow they reorganized themselves. He told her, when she asked, that she only looked slightly mauled, but he didn't kiss her again because they both knew better. Deep breaths, and then back into the hall and up the stairs.
Right into the circle of officers being entertained by Shawn and Gus, mostly Shawn, who was doing his oft-repeated 'reads' of the fairly new staff. "Lassie!" Shawn exclaimed, immediately grabbing him by the sleeve, not letting him pass.
Juliet ducked into the ladies' room to be sure she didn't look as totally trashed as she felt. Her lips were slightly swollen and her color was high, and she had to adjust her underthings to restore complete order to her clothing. A splash of cold water, and she headed back to her desk to apply fresh lipstick—thinking with a shiver that she hoped Lassiter would kiss it off again post-haste—and Gus followed her.
"Hey, Juliet, whatever became of the Civil War professor case?"
What case, she wanted to say. "Oh, we're still looking at who actually killed him, but we're getting closer."
"You don't need Psych?" His tone was odd.
Juliet smiled. "We're doing fine. Lassiter's been a big help."
"But you don't need us?"
"Do you need us to need you?"
He stepped closer to the desk. "Shawn really wants you to need us."
"Why?"
"Juliet, it's really weird. I think... I think he misses Lassiter."
"That's not weird," she said at once. "Why shouldn't he miss him?"
He gave her a look. "Don't get me wrong. I understand you missing Lassiter; you were partners for a long time. But Shawn missing Lassiter is just weird."
"Not really, if you think about it. Without Carlton to bug the hell out of, Shawn's only got his dad to rebel against."
"Huh. Maybe. So you don't need us on the case?"
"Sorry. But we'll call if we do need you," she added brightly, thinking you're really in the way of my plans to rip Carlton's clothes off and acquire intimate carnal knowledge of every part of his body while he plunders mine, so, um, later, k?
But when she and Gus walked back down the hall to the gaggle of cops, Lassiter was about to be dragged off by said gaggle for a drink. He gave Juliet a helpless look, and broke away long enough to say he'd keep it as short as he could. "Most of these guys wouldn't meet me at the water cooler two months ago," he muttered.
"It's different when you don't work together anymore. They did respect you, Carlton. They really did. They do."
"You're coming, right? Please?"
As if she was good for anything right now other than taking him to bed. "Just me and that bunch of pre-drunken guys? No, I'll pass." She smiled at him. "Just don't forget me."
Lassiter's blue gaze was both fierce and amused. "As if I could." Before he could say more, Shawn had grabbed his arm again to haul him away.
Juliet stood in the suddenly empty hall, feeling suddenly empty herself. Too bad cold showers really didn't work for women.
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He called her after eight. There was music and laughter in the background, but he was tense. Then again, so was she. "Spencer has separated me from my vehicle."
"Come again?"
"He said we were just going three blocks over to this stupid pub—I think it's called Circles—but now we're five miles out and everyone's too drunk to get me back to my car." He sighed. "I'm going to call a taxi."
"Where's Gus? He doesn't usually drink much."
"Guster has met a girl," he said with derision. "She is not half the girl I've met, the one I had hoped to ravish tonight, so I am unsympathetic to his needs. Bottom line, he's not interested in leaving."
"Too bad, because that girl you met is very interested in being ravished." Understatement of the year, she reflected. She still felt like rubber from earlier.
Lassiter laughed. "I hoped she might be."
"I can come get you. I will, too. Just give me time to find my car keys." She wasn't kidding. She needed him with her, as soon as possible, for as long as possible, and driving to some bar she never heard of to collect him seemed like a pretty minor issue.
"I might take you up on it. Hey, wait, I see a sober cop. Let me call you back."
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The phone rang again at ten, and she snatched it up immediately. "Carlton."
"I finally got back to my damn car. Ended up taking a taxi over there. Had to sneak out the back door to get away from Spencer—the man's relentless. He stole my keys and I had to wait for him to pass out before I could get them back."
She laughed. "He passed out?"
"Not before his rousing karaoke rendition of Total Eclipse Of The Heart. He's all right. Guster's girl dumped him half an hour ago so he'll get him home."
"Wow, Carlton, I'm sorry. Fate keeps working against our inappropriate intentions."
"Well, fate's going to get its butt kicked tonight."
Goosebumps. "Where are you?"
"Heading to your place. I know it's late, but… I think I know how drug addicts feel," he said, his voice husky. "Waiting for the next hit. Only you're my drug."
She hadn't known she could sigh as largely as she did then. "I don't mind."
He let out his own sigh. "If you still keep your spare key in the same place under that loose board, I can be in your bedroom in ten minutes."
She whispered shakily, "Make it nine."
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Juliet could hear him coming up the stairs fast in the darkness, as if he'd been there a hundred times before, as if he'd ever been in her bedroom, to which his path was unerring.
He didn't say anything. He bent to kiss her but didn't join her in bed until he had stripped off his clothes completely. She wished for more light in the room to see his body, but knew her chance would come.
Sliding in beside her, under the sheets, he murmured for her to take her gown off while his sure hands tugged efficiently at her panties, flinging them across the room with the rest of the fabric obstacles which had been between them.
Then they lay together, entwined. Every inch of her bare skin which touched any part of his bare skin was tingling, alive, and demanding more.
She molded her curves to the hard planes of his body, stroking his back and shoulders and draping one thigh over his, allowing a particularly hard and smooth part of him to shift against her nether regions. He kissed her with a groan of desire, one palm skimming her nipple, and that's when the fire engulfed them both, as it might a dry shrub at the edge of a forest inferno.
And that fire roared for hours.
She lost count of how many times he made her cry out with intense pleasure and release, but remembered every arch of his body against hers and every time he gave up all semblance of civility and pushed at her in sheer animal passion. They'd reduced each other to that. They'd elevated each other to that.
His warm hands and mouth knew so many tricks, but she had a few of her own, and with her own hands and mouth she learned his skin and most sensitive spots… and how to make him lose all control, which only enhanced her own pleasure. She loved his body, lean and angled and hard; she loved his long legs and long fingers and the fur of his chest and all points southward; she loved how he ground himself against her and drove them both to orgasm again and again.
It was heaven from start to finish and re-start and re-finish… lather, rinse, repeat. He tasted so good. He felt so right. She felt branded by his heat and his strength and his desire, and no other man had ever made her feel so damned good before.
Or ever would again, she thought dreamily as she faded into sleep.
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She woke in the pre-dawn, gray light illuminating the room dimly. Feeling the heat of Carlton's body beside her, she turned her head to see him.
His long-lashed eyes were closed and he was breathing evenly. Relaxed. At ease. Delectable.
He had been marvelous these past hours. Sexy, relentless and oh oh oh so tasty. A feline smile curved her lips, and she shivered with remembered passion.
The clock was twenty-three minutes shy of going off and she had to go to work. Calling in wasn't an option, with Lincoln out for the day, but leaving Lassiter was going to be difficult.
He mmmppphhfffed and rolled onto his back, and she didn't let herself think about it; she merely climbed on top of him and kissed him awake.
"Hey," he murmured, arms closing around her. She nuzzled his chest fur and felt him kissing her temple.
"I have to go to work," she said regretfully.
His hands slid down to her bare bottom, caressing. "I can try to talk you out of it."
"Talk won't work," she advised.
He smiled against her mouth. "I can try to seduce you out of it."
"Hmmm? Well, you have twenty-two minutes until the alarm goes off."
Lassiter's hands got busy, and soon he had flipped her onto her back and was talking without using words, but she was making enough noise for the two of them. Thank God her bedroom was on the back side of the house, not near the neighbors in the other half of the duplex. The sounds they'd have heard last night would have been considerable.
When the clock radio came on, he was almost there and she'd been twice over; before the song ended he collapsed against her, gasping, shuddering, and she melded herself to him as they settled down, though it was hard to settle down with him because there were always more kisses, more touches.
He reached over and slapped the radio into silence, raising himself up on his elbows and gazing at her with what she knew—felt—was love, but he didn't say anything, and neither did she, because although it was true, she wanted to tell him sometime when he wasn't expecting it. She wanted him to believe the words weren't only prompted by afterglow.
Sighing, he kissed her slowly and deliciously, and that said it all for both of them.
When he allowed her to get up a few minutes later, she asked if he wanted to help talk to the Napoli neighbors. She could get McNab or another patrolman to go with her, but Lassiter immediately said yes, and he could meet her after his morning class.
She left him in her bed while she got showered and dressed, and went to kiss him goodbye. "Keep the key," she whispered. She'd told him about the spare a long time ago during an investigation where they were both being targeted off-duty. It didn't make any sense for him to put it back. It was safer with him than under a loose board.
Lassiter smiled, and she very nearly took off her clothes again, but he wouldn't let her—he'd almost never been late to work in all his years on the force and he wasn't going to let her be late because of him. "One of us has to maintain protocol," he said seriously.
"Protocol, schmotocol," she retorted, stealing one more kiss. In the doorway, she hesitated, and looked back at him. "Carlton?"
"Yes?" He looked so comfortable against her pillows, bare-chested and at least semi-sated.
"In case you were wondering?"
He waited a moment, and prompted her. "Yes?"
"I love you."
Lassiter stared at her, a smile coming along slowly.
"I'll see you later," she said, and started out again.
"Hey!" he called. "Wait, wait, wait."
She peeked back into the room; he was sitting up. "Yes?"
"O'Hara," he began.
"O'Hara? Really?" Eyeroll.
"Juliet," he said with emphasis, grinning now. "Don't make me chase you down the stairs naked."
Juliet laughed. "Bring it, baby."
He threw back the sheets and started toward her, and Juliet was both titillated and charmed, but held out her hand to stop him. "What? You said to bring it."
"Put that away," she admonished him, still laughing. "I have to get to work."
"Not yet," he shot back, and scooped her close to his nude body one second later. "For an 'I love you,' I get a few extra seconds and a chance to say it back." His smile was brilliant, and his blue eyes were alight with what she knew was happiness. He cupped her face and kissed her gently. "You're sure?"
"Very," she whispered, and kissed him back, sinking against his chest, her arms around him. "Completely."
"I love you too," he murmured. "So much. So long. So… God, you're amazing." He kissed her hard, deep, sure, ardent.
It took another ten minutes to get down the stairs, and she had to re-do her hair and lipstick before she went out the door.
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