Peek-A-Boo Protector Read online

“I don’t know,” Cara said. “I hate guns myself and made her keep it locked in her room.”

  “Is it there now?”

  Anxiety darkened her eyes. “She usually takes it with her when she goes out at night. Tiff says a girl can’t be too careful.”

  John studied her roommate. Maybe Tiffany had told Cara that she had the weapon for protection. Or maybe she’d gotten mad at Honey and decided to get rid of her, then tried to shoot them earlier?

  SAM MASSAGED HER TEMPLE as they headed back to the car. “Where to now?”

  “Let’s go back to Teddy’s party and see if Tiffany is still there.”

  A few minutes later, they rang Teddy’s doorbell again. When Teddy answered, the music was still pounding, the party overflowing, booze floating through the room. Teddy’s eyes looked bloodshot, and he staggered slightly as he stared up at them.

  “What the hell?” Teddy stuttered. “You back to harass me?”

  “Do you own a gun, Wexler?” John asked without preamble.

  Teddy’s eyes flashed with anger. “Look, you got no jurisdiction here, so get lost.” He started to shut the door, but John caught it with his hand.

  “Maybe not, but I have spoken with the police and we’re working on getting a warrant to search your place.”

  Teddy barked a laugh. “Well, good luck with that.”

  Again, Teddy reached to shut the door, but John kept it firmly open. Behind him, Sam saw guests starting to stare. “I want to speak to one of your guests. Tiffany Maylor.”

  Teddy relaxed slightly. “How’d you know she was here?”

  “Just get her,” John ordered.

  Teddy leaned his head back and shouted, “Tiffany, come here, baby.”

  The guests nearby all turned to watch, then the beautiful brunette he’d seen earlier in the doorway photo wove her way through the throng, a martini in one hand, diamonds glittering on her earlobes and fingers.

  With her looks and obvious fortune, she could have easily bought herself the spot on the cheerleading squad.

  Sam’s heart clenched for Honey. She probably hadn’t had a chance in the cutthroat world she’d dreamed of being a part of.

  Tiffany’s blue eyes crinkled when she spotted them. Teddy must have told her about them.

  Had she been the shooter in the parking deck earlier?

  Tiffany took a sip of her martini and flung a jeweled hand up on Teddy’s shoulder. “What is it, lover boy?”

  John grimaced and Sam stiffened. Honey might have tried to fit into this world, but she wouldn’t want any part of it.

  “Miss Maylor, I’m John Wise. I’m here investigating the disappearance of Honey Dawson.”

  Tiffany’s bland expression showed disinterest although her fingers tightened on the stem of the martini glass just enough to reveal her discomfort.

  “Why don’t you step into the hallway?” John suggested. “Unless you want all of your guests to hear our conversation.”

  She threw a glance over her shoulder and seemed to decide that she wanted the conversation to be private, then stepped into the hallway. Teddy Jr. followed her, and shut the door, then they both leaned against the wall, trying to act as if they were unfazed by the interrogation. But Teddy’s blurry eyes twitched with worry, and Tiffany was holding the glass so tightly Sam expected it to shatter.

  “Tell us about your relationship to Honey,” John said.

  “We didn’t have a relationship,” Tiffany said.

  Sam folded her arms across her chest. “That’s not what we heard.”

  Tiffany shrugged. “We were both trying out for the same spot on the Dallas cheerleading squad, but there were other girls at tryouts, too.”

  “Yeah, but after the cuts, it came down to one spot, and you and Honey vying for that one, didn’t it?” John asked.

  Tiffany quirked her ruby red lips. “Yeah. So. That’s the name of the business.”

  “Honey was your big rival,” John said matter-of-factly. “And you wanted to get rid of her so you could have that spot.”

  “I didn’t have to do anything to Honey to earn that spot,” Tiffany purred. “Eventually everyone saw she was a tramp, and I was the high-class girl they wanted for the Cowboys.” She rolled her eyes and hitched out her hip, showing off her tanned long legs. “I mean, can you imagine? Honey was a small-town ho who didn’t even know her mama and daddy’s names. I, on the other hand, come from the Maylor family. Everyone in Texas knows our reputation.”

  She turned a pointed look toward Sam. “So who do you think the team would want representing them?”

  Anger mushroomed inside Sam. “Just because Honey didn’t grow up with your money and lifestyle doesn’t mean that she didn’t deserve that spot. Rich girls like you always get what you want because you don’t have to work for it.” She clenched her hands to keep from slugging the vile girl. “In fact, Honey should have been chosen. She would have been a role model to prove to other young women that they should pursue their dreams and fight for them.”

  Silence stretched between the four of them at her outburst, but John finally spoke.

  “When did you last see Honey?”

  Tiffany shrugged, the strap to her camisole falling off one shoulder. “The day she was cut.”

  “Really?” John asked.

  “Yeah, really,” Tiffany said with a sharp laugh. “It’s not like we hung out in the same circles or anything.”

  Sam glanced at Teddy, who had clamped his mouth shut, questions mounting in her mind. What if the cheerleading spot wasn’t the only thing Tiffany and Honey were competing for? What if a man had come between them?

  But who? Teddy?

  Even though her roommate said Tiffany and Teddy’s relationship had been in the past, Tiffany was hanging all over Teddy as if he belonged to her. What if Tiffany wanted Teddy, but Teddy had wanted Honey?

  “Did you and Honey ever hook up?” Sam asked.

  Teddy shifted, avoiding her gaze. “No.”

  John could have been right. If Teddy had wanted Honey and she turned him down yet slept with his father, he might have been angry.

  Or if Tiffany perceived Honey as a threat to Teddy’s future—and her future with him—maybe she followed Honey and tried to hurt her and the twins. The girl obviously always got what she wanted.

  Would she kill to keep her cheerleading spot and Teddy?

  JOHN’S HEAD SPUN WITH the growing number of suspects. Honey had traded men like some women traded purses. In spite of Tiffany Maylor’s money and looks, she’d obviously worried that she’d lose to her.

  “Where were you three nights ago?” John asked.

  Tiffany leaned against Teddy. “Right here in town, of course. I can’t miss practice.”

  John frowned. That fact could easily be checked. “What about your gun? Do you have it with you?”

  She muttered a low sound, then planted a hand on her hip. “Yeah. It’s in my purse.”

  “Go get it,” John said.

  “Don’t you need to make an arrest or have a warrant for that?” Teddy piped up.

  John shot him a challenging look. “Only if she has something to hide.”

  “I don’t,” Tiffany said, then twirled around, went inside and came back carrying a small, black patent leather designer clutch. She unsnapped the flap, and started to reach inside, but John held up a warning hand.

  “Let me.”

  She gave him a bored look, and he reached inside, pulled out the .22 and examined it. The gun hadn’t been fired recently, meaning she hadn’t used it to shoot at them earlier.

  “Let me see your hands,” John said.

  She scowled at him but flicked them up, and he examined them. No signs of powder burns, either.

  Not that that meant she or Teddy weren’t responsible, just that they hadn’t used this gun.

  Dammit. He’d hoped to nail her, but nothing was ever easy. Especially this case.

  “How about your hands and gun?” he asked Teddy.

  “We’re don
e here, Wise. If you want anything else, come back with that warrant.”

  Teddy grabbed Tiffany’s hand and dragged her back inside to the party. Sam glared after them, and he guided her toward the elevator in silence. It was past midnight now, too late to question anyone else. But tomorrow he’d track down Portia Wexler and Reed Tanner and question them. And maybe Detective Arnold would have a lead on Neil Kinney.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Sam said as they checked into a nearby hotel. He asked for adjoining rooms, determined to protect her. Her lack of protest indicated the depth of her despair over Honey’s disappearance.

  The bellman arrived and escorted them to their rooms and John tipped him as he settled their overnight bags inside.

  “Are you hungry, Sam?” he asked.

  Her gaze looked tortured as she turned to him. “No. I just keep thinking about Honey and her baby boy and wondering where they are.”

  He glanced at Sam and saw the torment on her face, and his heart pounded. More than anything, he wanted to find Honey and her babies and bring them home safely. And not just for Honey.

  He didn’t want to disappoint Sam.

  She’d been hurt and alone all her life, and he suddenly wanted to be the man who played her hero.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A heartbeat of silence reverberated through the hotel room as she and John stepped inside the room.

  Sam stared at the big empty bed with a pang of loneliness. Plush cream carpeting covered the floors, and the ivory down comforter with thick pillows looked inviting and romantic. Yet the worry knotting her stomach over Honey and her twins made her feel ill.

  And desperate for someone to cling to.

  John’s room was only a few feet away, but he hadn’t retreated to it yet. Instead he stood, watching her quietly, his intense protectiveness sending a tingle of awareness—and desire—rippling through her.

  “We will find her,” he said as if he’d read her troubled thoughts.

  Sam turned to him. “We have to, John,” she said softly. “Honey is so special.”

  “Sam, you don’t have to keep singing Honey’s praises. I understand how close you are, and I’m not passing judgment on her. I want to find out what happened to her and the twins, too.”

  “Because it’s your job,” Sam said, tensing. “Not anything personal.”

  His jaw tightened. “It is personal to me,” John said. He lifted her chin with his thumb. “I want to find her for you, Sam, because I think you’re pretty damn special yourself.”

  His gruff admission touched her deep inside and unleashed a yearning to be in his arms. Temptation overcame Sam, and she pressed the palm of her hand to his jaw.

  “Thank you, John. You’re the most honorable man I’ve ever known.”

  Emotions flickered across his face, and he took a step closer to her, so close she inhaled his masculine scent, so close she felt his breath on her cheek, so close she saw hunger flare in his deep brown eyes.

  “Sam…”

  She leaned into him, wanting more. Wanting his mouth on hers, his hands touching her. “Yes?”

  “God, you’re sexy.”

  Sam’s eyes widened. No man had ever called her sexy before. “I’m not,” she whispered.

  A smile curved his mouth, and he traced his finger along the edge of her face, tucking a strand of curls behind her ear. “Yes, you are. Your strength and tenacity and fierce independence are sexy.” His mouth parted and he tilted his head sideways. “At least to me.”

  Sam’s heart swelled with emotions, her body tingling with need. Then Sam lowered his head and fused his mouth with hers. She threaded her fingers in his thick hair, pulling him closer as she savored the feel of his lips against hers. His hands trailed down over her shoulders to her waist, then lower to her hips, and he gripped her to him and wedged his leg between her thighs, stroking her with his body and deepening the kiss.

  A thousand butterflies took flight in her stomach, titillating sensations fluttering through her as he probed her lips apart with his tongue and made love to her with his mouth.

  He backed her toward the wall and pressed her up against it, and Sam moved beneath him, sliding her foot up and down his calf, aching for more. He made a gruff throaty sound as he dragged his mouth from hers, then trailed kisses along her jaw and neck and nibbled at the sensitive skin behind her ear. She clung to him, sighing in contentment when his hand moved to her breast, and he cupped the heavy mound in his palm.

  His lips moved lower, nipping at the edges of her blouse and he slowly unbuttoned one button, then the next until her shirt gaped open. She sucked in a sharp breath, wondering what he would think, then his soft murmur of pleasure echoed in the silence, and he traced his tongue downward until he teased her nipple through the thin lace of her bra.

  Her nipples stiffened to turgid peaks, aching for his mouth, and she tore at his shirt, silently urging him for more. He inched his fingers to the front clasp of her bra and flipped it open, and her breasts spilled out. Her chest rose as she exhaled a shaky breath, and he paused to stare at her.

  “John,” she whispered, suddenly self-conscious.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. His gaze met hers, and the raw hunger in his eyes sent a fiery trail of need through her.

  She closed her eyes as he lowered his head and tugged one nipple into his mouth. His other hand pulled her closer, then he unzipped her jeans. The rasp of the zipper cut into the tense silence, spiking her excitement more. She wanted them both to be naked, flesh against flesh, skin against skin, bodies joined as one.

  She reached for his zipper, but suddenly his cell phone trilled. For a brief moment, she prayed he’d ignore it, and he did. He suckled her other nipple into his mouth and teased her until her legs crumbled, and he had to hold her up.

  But the sound of the phone continued to intrude, and she knew he had to answer it.

  It might be news about Honey.

  JOHN DIDN’T WANT TO STOP. He wanted Sam with every fiber of his being. His sex was hard and throbbing, his heart pounding, his breath coming in shallow, ragged pants.

  Who would have thought that practical, caretaker, tough Samantha Corley was a sex siren beneath her sensible clothes? And that bra—it wasn’t exactly sensible. No, it was pure sheer lace and so feminine that he wanted to see the panties he had a feeling would match them, and tear them off until there was nothing between him and Sam but bare skin and sweat and hormones.

  But his damn phone wouldn’t shut up.

  And his cop instincts kicked in. Good God, he was working a major case, a woman’s life was at stake as well as two babies. And he was mauling Sam and ignoring his duties.

  He slowly extricated himself, pulling Sam’s shirt back together to cover those voluptuous breasts, regret for taking it so far mingling with disappointment that he couldn’t finish.

  Sam sank onto the bed with a shaky sigh as he reached for his phone. Dammit, his father.

  He started to forget the phone and toss Sam down onto the bed and make love to her. But his father would only keep calling if he ignored him.

  And he should slow it down with Sam. He could act on hormones and walk away. But Sam—she deserved better.

  Gritting his teeth, he connected the call.

  “John, what in the hell took you so long to answer?”

  “I’m busy,” he said, glancing at Sam who looked dazed and sexy and too damn tempting for any man to resist.

  “I called your office and they said that you’re in Dallas, that you’re with that Corley woman.”

  John clenched the phone with a white-knuckled grip, gestured to Sam that he’d be right back, then stepped into the adjoining room and pulled the door closed. “Dad, I’m investigating a case. The clues led me here to Dallas.”

  “This is about that trampy Dawson girl, isn’t it?” His father’s voice spiked a decibel.

  “Dad, she went missing in my town where I’m in charge,” John said, his temper rising. “And there a
re two babies involved, one of which is also missing. What kind of police officer would I be if I didn’t investigate this crime?”

  His father muttered his disapproval. “So why is that Corley girl with you?”

  John’s pulse jumped at the way his father made Sam’s name sound vile. “Because she’s Honey’s friend and someone tried to kill her.”

  “Well, you could have put someone else in charge of her,” his father said. “How do you think it looks for you to be gallivanting around the country with a girl whose daddy was known to be a bad cop?”

  John glanced at the closed door between him and Sam, remembering the way she’d felt in his arms, the way she’d looked so dazed and sexy and…tempting.

  He should keep that door closed.

  “I don’t give a damn what people think,” John muttered.

  “Well, you’d better,” his father growled. “You and I have both worked too hard to let some woman destroy your future.”

  Raw anger surged through John. “Sam isn’t responsible for what her father may or may not have done. And what can be more important than finding a man who would hurt a woman and her children?”

  “Your career, that’s what. Now, get this over with and then we’ll talk. And remember what I said, don’t get involved with that Corley girl. She could ruin you.”

  John disconnected the call in a fit of rage and turmoil. He had worked hard to earn his reputation and had aspired to move from Butterville and pursue politics. And he knew how the game was played, that Sam might not fit into it.

  Still, he wanted her.

  But he paced the room, trying to purge his pent-up anger and lust. He did want her, but just for the night. And Sam would want more.

  He reached for the door, tempted…

  But rationale set in and he stepped back and went to take a cold shower. The door was closed between them. It was better he kept it that way.

  SAM CLUTCHED HER SHIRT to her, feeling alone and vulnerable and wondering if John would come back.

  Her body was still tingling from his lips and hands, and she wanted more, for John to make love to her.

  She stood and walked to the closed door, then hesitated, her nerves kicking in as the reality of why they were here crashed into her consciousness.