Chapter 8

• Ian pulled up to the curb and turned off the car. He checked his phone again and then looked out at the building. It was the right address, but why would Alec live in such a dive? The police department couldn’t pay their detectives this poorly, at least he hoped not or he’d never make off-the-cuff sports bets with Brent again at the next family get-together. Glancing around the area, he tried to decide if he wanted to leave his car here. Spotting the dark hole down into the underground parking, he felt maybe leaving it out in the open would be that safer place of the two.
• Still shaking his head at the lack of security at the entrance of the building, oh, there had been security locks and a phone system at some point, but the jacked box and broken lock had dealt with that nonsense, he stepped into the elevator and took a moment to look around and see if it was safe to use. Other than being somewhat filthy, the panel looked functional. Why does Alec live here? It had to be penance for something, what he couldn’t guess but no one would want to live here.
• Surviving the elevator unscathed, he walked down the poorly lit hall and found the apartment, before he could change his mind, he knocked. When he heard Alec shout through the door saying it was open, his blood pressure rose. Did she look around the kind of place she lived? Nothing short of three-bolt locks should be used. Stepping inside, he turned and spotted just that, three locks. Slipping one in place, he turned and was surprised for the third time since he’d pulled up outside. The inside didn’t reflect the outside of the building at all. Tucking his hands in his pocket, he stepped down the short hall and paused at the door to the living area which was tastefully decorated in a minimalist way. He was pleased for some reason he didn’t want to examine that their taste was similar in this area.
• The pleasant feeling faded when he looked around further and saw that also like him, there were no personal mementos visible. He knew the reasons why he didn’t have photos and personal items on display, what he didn’t understand was why she wouldn’t. Didn’t females like that sort of homey touch?
• “Sorry for making you trek all the way here to get me. Today was a bitch on so many levels I’m exhausted but wired at the same time.”
• Any and all thoughts were gone from his mind as she came out into the living room. For some reason, Ian had thought he and his libido were prepared for another of Alec’s enticing outfits. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Her long mouth-watering legs were wrapped, very, very lovingly in black satin pants that stopped mid-calf to leave enough flesh visible that his mind couldn’t help wondering if it was as soft as it looked. The short black boots she wore had heels just high enough that the exposed skin was shaped with the extension of well-toned muscles.
• Jerking his eyes up to her face, he tried not to linger from the heels all the way up, his heart and other parts wouldn’t fair well. She had left her hair down, again, and his fingers tingled still wanting a touch. Why are you doing this to yourself again? Right, justice, and all that do-good stuff.
• “Give me a hand? This top is some sort of torture device, I can’t get the damn thing done up.”
• She turned around, holding the fabric together. Ian took a step, fought not to look down, and then held his breath when he did anyway. The black satin hugged her ass in absolute perfection. Enough to tell him that underneath Alec was either naked or had on some sexy thong or g-string—shaking his head, he tried to grasp the zipper on her top and pull it up. Quickly. Let go. Step back. His blood heated, watching the bare skin of her back slowly disappear as the zipper reached the top. Releasing it, he stepped away, only to clue in that she had been talking the whole time and he hadn’t heard a word.
• “...so by the time we got him to the station, he’d managed to share the stink with four other cops and then the punk tries to make a run for it. Seriously, who does that in the middle of the friggen station? That boy had seen way too many flicks.” Alec turned and lifted her hands in exasperation.
• Cue the brain to respond. Now. “Incredible,” was the only thing he could come up with while trying not to notice the top was some sort of bare-shouldered-push-her-breasts-up-almost-out kind of top.
• “Yeah.” She glanced down at her outfit. “Will I do?”
• Fuck yeah! “I guess that depends on what you’re trying to do.” Ian tried to keep his tone neutral.
• Alec smirked, “Distract, so you can do your sonic thing.”
• Ian’s eyes widened. “My sonic thing?”
• Turning, Alec walked back down the hall. “Like super-sonic hearing.”
• “I have super-sonic hearing?” He followed her down the hall and then stopped on the edge of the doorway to her bedroom, where she was bent over the bed taking things out of a purse. Ian debated for two or three seconds on whether she’d be offended if he pulled out his camera and took a picture of her in that position.
• “How else could you describe the shit you’re able to hear over all the low-life’s and deafening music?” Straightening, she turned around and shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking it. The slime you have served up for us this past week gives you an automatic no-questions free pass.” She grasped the top of the corset-style shirt and jerked it upward a few times. “On that part at least.”
• Ian watched the flesh barely contained in the fabric jiggle and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning out loud. “I see.”
• She stopped torturing him and gave him an odd look. “Are you all right? You seem off.”
• Letting out the breath he’d been holding, he spun and headed back down the hall. He couldn’t look at her another second before he shoved her against a wall, with his body. “Could be I’m worried if my car is still going to be there when we get downstairs.”
• She laughed quietly, “It looks like shit around here, but the gangs that hang here are pretty good—for the most part.”
• He watched her pick up the duffle bag. “Why do you live here? It’s nowhere near the station, or even the district you cover.” She shrugged into a small jacket that matched the mouth-watering pants covering her.
• “Maybe I don’t want to live near work.”
• He held the door open for her. “I’m not buying it. I know your salary has to be better than affording this place.”
• Alec was silent as she locked all three locks, turning she gave him a sober look. “My salary is fine.” Without offering more of an answer she headed to the elevator.
• Ian waited until they stepped into the dreary car to go down. “So why then? Are you saving for some spectacular house?” The look she gave him answered the question. No.
• “I have my reasons.”
• When she practically bolted from the elevator, before the door was all the way open and headed out to his car, Ian didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he was prying into an area Alec wanted left alone. A smart man would know to leave it alone. Unfortunately, Ian seemed to be lacking in smart anything where Alec McGowan was concerned.
• As soon as they were both in the car, he turned in his seat and looked at her. Just sat there waiting. Alec didn’t even glance in his direction, confirming that she was hoping to avoid any further discussion on the matter.
• She made a quiet noise that resembled a growl and then blew out a deep breath and turned, glaring at him. “I donate a lot of money.” Her green eyes were on fire with her annoyance.
• Again, not at all what he expected. “Donate it?
• “Yes.” She looked back out the windshield. “We should get going.”
• He glanced at his watch. “We have time.” Putting the key in the ignition, he released it without starting the car. “To what?”
• Shooting him another look of ‘piss off’, she took a deep breath and released it slowly. “If I tell you, will you drop it?”
• “Well...”
• “No, just drop it completely. Never to be discussed.”
• He ignored how warm his body was getting from the flash of retribution that shone in her beautiful eyes. “All right.”
• “I give it to the missing children’s society,” she motioned to the road, “now drive.”
• Ian opened his mouth, then closed it. He had agreed. Starting the car, he gripped the steering wheel and plotted how he was going to find out the answer to the now-present question. Why? Why that organization? It was a great cause, at least he supposed it was, but why?