Long, Lean and Lethal Page 6

  Goddamn. He was a perfect fucking package.

  “This place looks a hell of a lot different during the day,” she mused, glancing at the handful of cars in the parking lot. “It was packed here last night.”

  “Let’s go see if we can find our butcher.” Noah held out his hand.

  Their undercover work started now. If she hesitated in taking his hand, anyone watching might think they weren’t the happy couple. And both of them agreed on the way here that presenting themselves as comfortably married and good friends would make it easier for other couples to open up to them.

  Rain slid her hand into his and strong fingers wrapped around hers as Noah led her to the store. The ring she’d put on her finger before leaving the house pinched her flesh. Noah had a matching band on his left hand. They were now officially the happily married couple.

  “We’re going to make him think we’re established swingers,” Noah said quietly, matching her pace and walking close enough to her that their arms brushed against each other. “Follow my lead when we say we’re from D.C. I know the area well, so if by chance anyone else does, too, they won’t be able to pull anything over on us.”

  “I’ll just say you never let me leave the house,” she quipped, and then glared at him when he smiled broadly. “Because I work at home. I’m an artist.”

  “Can you paint?” He looked surprised.

  “Actually, yes, I can.” And setting up a canvas often helped relax her mind and enabled her to figure out the obvious. When it came to tough cases, her father used to always tell her that letting the creative juices flow helped clear up clues that were often right under her nose.

  Rain’s excitement grew when they neared the back of the store and she spotted the stocky butcher, standing behind the counter and weighing meat for an older lady. He glanced up at Rain and smiled but then returned his attention to the customer.

  “Is that him?” Noah asked.

  “Yes.” She knew she was tall for a lady, but she still needed to glance up slightly to stare into Noah’s eyes. She liked that about him.

  But when Noah looked down at her, the intense glow in his eyes caused her insides to quicken. A warmth spread over her and she couldn’t look away.

  “He wants to fuck you, you know that, don’t you?” Noah whispered, searching her face while waiting for her answer.

  Rain got the impression that how she answered would tell him something about her. “Why do you say that?”

  “Do you mean to tell me that you don’t know when a man wants to fuck you?”

  Rain smiled and glanced over at the butcher. She and Noah stood to the side and out of the way, but the butcher gave her his attention when she looked at him. The older woman must also think the meat department in the grocery store a place to deliver new gossip, because she went on about a neighbor’s trials and tribulations while putting in a new swimming pool.

  Rain turned into Noah, moving closer to respond when a mother with toddlers pushed a grocery cart past them. “Some men are more obvious about what they want than others,” she whispered, her mouth close to his ear.

  Noah let go of her hand and slid his arm around her, keeping her pinned against him while turning his head so that his mouth was inches from hers. His eyes looked more brown than green today, and his dark hair was slightly tousled. But it was all that hard-packed muscle pressing against her and making her nipples feel pinched as they hardened that distracted her the most.

  “It’s called discretion,” he whispered, shifting his attention and glancing around them before looking at her again. “I’m sure you noticed his wedding ring. If your butcher is a swinger, he’s got permission from his wife to fuck other ladies, if they and his wife consent.”

  “I know what a swinger is,” she retorted, snapping at him even though her whisper was barely audible.

  “Do you approve of their lifestyle?”

  She didn’t want to admit that possibly her knowledge was lacking and that any information he had on the lifestyle would be helpful. Good cops didn’t pretend to know something they didn’t, however. It ate at her pride, but she straightened, which resulted in him pressing her closer to him, and looked him square in the eye.

  “I’ve never partaken in any swinger activity,” she said quietly. “If that is what you’re asking.”

  “Would you?” Again he searched her face.

  “I assume you’re asking if I would while working this case.” Her stomach twisted, as she suddenly wondered how far they would have to go to solve this case. More than likely, she wouldn’t have to fuck Noah, just make appearances believable while under the scrutinizing public eye.

  “If it helps us with this case, would you watch me fuck someone while you fuck someone?”

  His rough whisper scraped over her flesh and his words presented a very erotic image that made her heart beat faster. She hated that he probably felt the sudden thumping in her chest.

  “Would you fuck someone to help catch a murderer?”

  “If the situation merited it, yes.”

  Rain nodded and became acutely aware of his thumb moving up and down along the curve of her spine. “Have you ever fucked someone simply to gain information?”

  “No.” He didn’t hesitate answering.

  “But you would.”

  “You’re avoiding answering my question.”

  “We’re supposed to be a team on this case, right?” she whispered, daring to shift her weight and brush her body against his. “Therefore, it seems to me that knowing what my husband enjoys, and is willing to do, is the best way to answer your question. You just said a swinging couple is a couple who mutually agree to the terms when it comes to their sexual activities. Obviously I wouldn’t do anything my husband wouldn’t do.”

  The conversation affected Noah, too. His eyes glazed over and a small, very satisfied-looking grin appeared on his face. He looked ready to say something else, but then his attention shifted, and his grip on her relaxed.

  Rain turned as the butcher approached them, her flesh sizzling when Noah’s hand slid up her back and his fingers wrapped protectively around the back of her neck. If she didn’t already know they were here to give appearances that they were swingers, Rain would swear Noah’s body language screamed “mine.”

  “Rain, it’s good to see you again,” the butcher said in a smooth, deep baritone. “And this must be your husband.” He held out his hand to Noah. “Ned Flynn. But everyone calls me Butch.”

  “Butch, it’s good to meet you.” Noah’s baritone deepened to match Butch’s as he took his hand off Rain and shook hands with the butcher. The men sized each other up as they shook hands.

  Butch was a thick man, maybe around five ten or thereabouts. Rain would put him at about the same height as her. His brown hair was cut short, not quite a crew cut but close. She decided he wasn’t unattractive, although he wasn’t someone she would single out. It was his personality, the friendly glow in his eyes, and his eagerness to seek a person out and start a conversation that probably made him good at what he did, and his part of the store the local gossip hangout.

  “I tell you what,” he said, letting go of Noah’s hand but then gesturing for them to follow. “I’ve got a fifteen-minute break. Come on outside with me. We’ll visit for a few. That is, unless you have shopping to do.”

  “We’re good,” Noah said amiably, once again taking Rain’s hand in his and then falling into stride alongside Butch. “Looks like you’ve got a good community here.”

  “The best.” Butch smiled at Rain when they walked through the automatic opening doors and stepped outside into the morning sunlight. “Where are you two from? I didn’t get a chance to visit much with your wife last night.”

  “D.C. I set up computers and networking for businesses.” Noah laughed like he just told a good joke and let go of Rain’s hand to hold his up in the air. “But I don’t do personal computers or make house calls.”

  Butch’s crow’s-feet lengthened when he grinned
broadly. He looked at her and chuckled. “I don’t know. House calls can be fun from time to time.”

  Rain winked at him and he cleared his throat. If there was a crime in this man’s past, he was very confident that he’d covered his tracks. Butch spoke easily and didn’t hesitate in answering questions, like he was an open book.

  “That they can,” Noah agreed. “Rain didn’t say what kind of swingers you are. We aren’t really a BDSM couple. Rain isn’t submissive. She would just as soon tie you up as be handcuffed to a bed.”

  “I saw that in her right away. Not much of a submissive at all.” This time Butch grinned at her with admiration, as if he’d just sung her praises.

  “Back home, there were a few clubs we attended when time allowed. My wife was excited that possibly there was something here where we could make new friends.”

  “We’re not organized to the point where we have a meeting hall or a Web site or anything like that,” Butch offered, and then waved at a lady who parked not too far away from where they stood next to the stall where grocery carts were returned. Butch leaned against the truck parked there. “Some folks meet and then we never see them again. Others, like me and the wife and a handful of other couples, are old-timers.” He winked at Rain. “But not too old, I promise.”

  “Good thing,” she said, and then let Noah wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her against him. “As long as your group isn’t overwhelmed with drama. We’re in this for fun. Obviously we don’t want to become friends with people who aren’t honest and sincere.”

  Butch’s expression sobered. “My dear, we’re all overwhelmed with drama. I’m afraid it’s human nature. But we do try to keep it out of our parties. Obviously when some of us have known each other for so many years, we tend to get involved, and care about each other’s personal lives. But no one will expect you to share anything you don’t want to share.”

  Rain noticed Butch didn’t take the bait and open up about the crimes that had wreaked havoc in his friends’ lives recently. It could be the result of Butch being discreet. Since he believed her and Noah to be a new couple in town, possibly he didn’t want to scare them away by announcing people in his group were recently murdered.

  “We’d like to come to your next gathering, if we’re welcome.” Noah also grew serious. “Sounds like the best thing to do is meet everyone and let them meet us.”

  “You’re right, and in luck. We’re doing potluck Friday night over at the Gamboas’.” Butch glanced down at his watch. “I need to get back in there before those kids make a mess of my counter. Give me your phone number and I’ll have the wife call you tonight with all of the details.”

  Rain watched Noah search his pockets and then make a show of not having a pen or paper. Excusing herself quietly, she hurried away from the two men and went to her and Noah’s rental, which was several stalls down. She noticed the woman Butch waved at get out of her car and watch with interest while Rain reached into the car for the notebook in the front seat. Tearing a piece of paper out of it, she then tore that piece of paper in half, pulled the ballpoint free from the cover of the notebook, and wrote down their names and, after hesitating for a moment, jotted down her cell-phone number. She didn’t know Noah’s number.

  She glanced at what she’d written—“Rain and Noah”—with her number scribbled underneath. Looking outside the car, she saw Butch and Noah speaking with the woman who had given her the onceover and waved to Butch before parking. The lady definitely qualified as pretty and Rain wondered if she was part of Butch’s “club” as well. Rain shook her head, reminding herself that just because people were attractive didn’t make them swingers. In fact, it would be her luck that most at the potluck Friday night would be plain looking, if not ugly. On impulse, she looked back at the piece of paper, pressed it against the notebook cover, and started to write Hudson as their last name. It was her undercover last name, and now it would be Noah’s, too.

  Anyone might do a search on them after attending the party, and with murders going on in this exclusive circle of friends someone would be smart to do so of any newcomers. She hated that Noah might give her shit for assuming his last name, but the facts couldn’t be ignored. Noah was FBI and it would be harder to trace him than it would be her. She pressed the pen to the paper and wrote “Kayne” after Noah’s name. Rain and Noah Kayne. Staring at it twisted her stomach in knots. Noah had insisted last night it be their undercover name. Submitting to him in any way bugged the crap out of her. He was right about this though and she was woman enough to admit it.

  When she hurried back to the group, apologizing since she knew Butch needed to get back to work and using the excuse that she couldn’t find a pen for taking her so long, she handed the piece of paper to Noah for him to give to Butch.

  It was an easy move, and one that neither Butch nor the lady who now stood next to him batted an eye at, but it allowed Noah to see how Rain presented them as a couple.

  “Very good.” Butch accepted the paper and then pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and slid the paper inside. “I’ve got to go earn a dollar. We’ll talk to you tonight.”

  Noah said good-bye to the lady and then turned and placed his hand on Rain’s back. He didn’t say anything until he’d opened the passenger door for her, closed it after she slid into the car, then walked around and joined her on the driver’s side.

  “What did you think?” he asked as he started the engine, secured his seat belt, and then looked over his shoulder, glancing her way as he backed out of the stall.

  “I think if he’s done anything wrong he doesn’t feel a lot of remorse.”

  “I doubt he’s guilty.” Noah headed toward the parking-lot exit. “But do you think he knows anything?”

  “I know that he knows at least one of the deceased’s widows. Last night he discussed with that woman that Sheila Lapthorne was still going to the parties.” Rain reached over her shoulder and pulled her seat belt around and snapped it. She reminded herself that she didn’t need to impress Noah with her responses. This wasn’t a quiz. But it was important to go over the details of any conversation with a partner, especially when the conversation wasn’t recorded. “So we know that he’s aware of the murders. He didn’t give any indication that there’s anything going wrong, though, possibly because he doesn’t want to scare away newcomers.”

  “Which gives us insight into his nature. Butch can play like life is sweet when actually it stinks like shit.”

  “Exactly.” She continued brainstorming when Noah pulled up alongside an ATM that stood by itself in the parking lot.

  Her thoughts were distracted when he unhooked his seat belt and then stretched his long body behind the steering wheel so that he could pull his wallet from his back pocket. Corded muscle strained against his jeans and she focused on his muscular legs, remembering again what he looked like naked. Her mouth went dry when Noah pulled a card out of his wallet.

  “We’re going to do some shopping. I think it would be a good idea to set you up an art studio. If we decide that we need to record, or get to a point where we want to bring a group of people together and learn more details about what they know, it would be best to do it at our house. So it’s time to make the place look homey.”

  “And who is flipping for this bill?” She looked at the credit card in his hand.

  “Compliments of the FBI, princess, we’re going to turn our home into a love nest.”

  “Call me princess again and the only thing you’ll need to buy is a doghouse,” she growled, hating that he used the pet name her father had used for her. “And it better be large enough for you to sleep in.”

  “You can go from sweetheart to bitch in less than a second,” he growled.

  She didn’t care if he sounded offended. “I’m no one’s princess,” she muttered, and wished her dad were still alive so she could talk to him about this case. Some of her best memories were of sitting on the porch with him after supper and mulling over the facts of whatever case she
was working on at that time.

  Noah didn’t comment but worked the ATM and then slid his card and a thick pile of cash into his wallet. Instead of heading out, he looked at her with a brooding stare and studied her for a minute.

  “Someone burn you bad?” he finally asked.

  His question shocked her and she stared out the front windshield, once again seeing her dad appear before her. Her father might have been stricter than most, but he’d also been her best friend. She wondered what he would have thought of Noah. Dad didn’t approve of any of the men who had ever come sniffing around her. Granted, most who did weren’t that impressive to Rain, either. It hadn’t bothered her much when he’d encouraged her to send each and every one of them packing.

  “No,” she answered, not seeing any reason to add that she’d never stayed in a relationship long enough to get burned. “Why would you ask?” Then bested by curiosity, she added, “Did someone burn you?”

  Rain looked at Noah in time to see the dark, almost ominous shadow spread over his expression. “Seared to the core,” he offered easily. “And I asked because you’re very evasive.”

  “Maybe it’s because I need to remain grounded so we can focus on a very important case.” She tried reading him, curious whether he’d been joking about being burned terribly.

  “Should I take that to mean my incredible good looks and charming personality are distracting you?” The dark, dangerous look she’d noticed a moment ago disappeared quickly when he offered her a roguish grin.

  She couldn’t help smiling at him, having a feeling that Noah probably had left more than one lady stranded high and dry. “Try and tell me you aren’t aware of how you affect women,” she sneered, rolling her eyes as she looked ahead of them. “I can’t imagine you’ve ever had a problem getting any woman to do exactly what you want her to do.”