Шрифт:
Интервал:
Закладка:
“You got something?” Mitchell asked, waking up quickly now.
Sandy stood with her head back, eyes closed, desultorily working up the lather in her short blond hair. “Maybe.”
“You didn’t say anything last night.”
“We were fucking, remember?” Sandy yawned and edged Mitchell aside to stand under the water.
“Yeah.” Mitchell grabbed her around the waist and kissed her neck. “I recall it was spectacular.”
“It was.” Suds-free, Sandy threw her arms around Mitchell’s neck and kissed her, rubbing her wet skin against Mitchell’s. “Mmm, you feel so good.”
Mitchell tightened her hold, running her tongue over Sandy’s lips and into her mouth. Somehow they ended up against the wall, legs entwined, bucking and groaning and groping each other. Mitchell yanked her head back, panting. “I don’t have time!”
“What?” Sandy gasped unbelievingly. She grabbed Mitchell’s hand and tugged it between her own thighs. “You don’t have a minute? Feel me.” She rocked against Mitchell’s palm. “Come on, baby. Touch me.”
Time lost all meaning as Mitchell eased her fingers into the heat and promise of her lover’s desire. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, slowly pushing deeper into the welcoming folds.
Sandy arched her back and threaded her fingers into Mitchell’s hair, claiming her mouth with bruising intensity as the sensation of being filled spread though her belly. Never, never had anything—anyone—touched her like this. “You make me feel so alive,” she whimpered, her hips beginning to lift with the first ripple of orgasm.
Stomach taut, legs trembling, Sandy held on to the one solid thing in her world, helpless to do anything but surrender to the desire she both needed and feared. Slowly, the rolling contractions stopped and she could breathe again. “I’m…like…addicted to you or something. I can’t stop wanting you to do that to me.”
“What?” Mitchell murmured. “Make you come?”
“Uh-uh,” Sandy replied, cupping Mitchell’s breast and toying with her nipple. “Making me come out of my mind.”
“Sandy, honey.” Mitchell laughed shakily, easing Sandy out of the stream of water and backing away. “I have to go.”
“What about you?”
“I’m fine.”
“You are?”
Sandy looked just a little worried, and Mitchell shook her head. “No, I’m stone-hard, and I’d probably come if you touched me for ten seconds, but—”
“But work’s more important?” There was more than a bit of ire in Sandy’s voice. “Right?”
“No, I just can’t come while imagining Frye’s face if I’m any later.”
“Oh.” Sandy reached for a towel. “I can see that. So let’s go already. Jeez.”
When Mitchell got off the elevator with Sandy, the first person she saw was Jason.
“Where’s Sloan?” she asked when Jason swiveled in his chair to greet them.
“Rebecca sent her to bed.”
“Lucky her,” Sandy grumbled, squinting in the bright sunlight. “Jesus, it’s not even noon and we—”
Mitchell coughed and Jason grinned.
“Just get to sleep, did we?” Jason asked archly.
“Who said anything about sleeping?” Sandy tossed back.
“Sandy,” Mitchell groaned.
Jason sighed. “Sorry, Dell, but I need help. Frye wants these backgrounds done yesterday, and I can’t run them all myself.”
“I gotta go talk to Frye,” Sandy announced as she walked away.
Jason and Mitchell mumbled goodbyes, then Jason confided, “Sloan traced a worm back to the DA’s office, so we’re looking at the two ADA’s and the judge for being our inside person.”
“Okay.”
“How did Mitch do last night?”
Mitchell glanced across the room to where Sandy stood talking to Frye. “Depends on how you look at it.”
Jason glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “Things looked pretty good with Kennie and the others.”
“That was fine. It was later.” Mitchell stared straight ahead at the monitor. Data scrolled by, and she watched it, automatically shifting through the figures. “This is between us, right?”
Jason’s eyes grew dark. “Dell, what happened?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “We went to Ziggies, which is just what we’d hoped for.”
“And?”
“Too soon to tell.” Mitchell forced a grin. “But I’m set to go out again tonight after your show.”
Jason studied her intently, then looked at the group across the room. Watts was talking, Sandy was gesturing emphatically, and Rebecca was shaking her head in a vehement negative motion. He kept his voice low. “Did you sleep with someone. Is that it?”
“No!” Mitchell glanced at Sandy. “But what if…what if something happens, and I have to do…something?”
“Like sex?”
Mitchell nodded.
“No one expects you to do anything you don’t want to do.” He leaned forward, patted her thigh. “Draw a line, Dell. Whatever you can live with.”
“What if I get pushed into a corner, and I have to go along to save my cover?” she asked miserably. “Jesus, Jase—I think Sandy would kill me.”
He laughed. “I think you’re right. Maybe Mitch had better keep that kind of thing just between us boys.” He looked up. “Speaking of Sandy, here comes the team.”
“Time to talk,” Rebecca announced. “Sandy has a proposition.”
Mitchell rose, a question on her lips, but Sandy walked by without looking in her direction.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Finally,” Rebecca said, “we’ve got a direct link to the porn ring, at least the part making the videos. Now, we need to work this angle as hard as we can.”
As Rebecca outlined the newest plan, Mitchell clamped her jaws tightly together and stared straight ahead. Her hands were balled into tight fists beneath the table and bile churned in her gut. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Letting Sandy work a sting on the guys who were running the live sex videos? It would be like sending a cadet into the front lines of a skirmish. It was crazy. And Mitchell was scared. Scared right down to her toes. If something happens to her…
“The first meet will most likely just be for a talk,” Rebecca continued. “Hopefully Sandy will get a location and a time for the video shoot from that.”
“What about a wire?” Watts interjected. “It wouldn’t hurt to have this guy on tape setting up the job .”
“Not a bad idea.” Rebecca looked Sandy. “What do you think?”
Sandy shrugged. “Depends on how big it is, and where I need to put it.” Watts sniggered, and she gave him a cutting look. “I don’t, you know, wear a whole lot of clothes most of the time. It would look funny if I was all of a sudden covered up.”
Mitchell couldn’t stand it any longer. “What’s the point of her wearing a wire if we can’t monitor what’s going on? There’s no way anyone is going to be able to cover this meet.” She finally looked at Sandy. “You’ll be out there on your own.”
“Officer,” Rebecca said quietly. She wasn’t entirely happy with the idea herself, but Officer Mitchell appeared to be having major difficulties with Sandy’s new role. Before the young officer could say something that Rebecca would not be able to overlook, she softly said, “This is a command decision. If you’re having problems working on this team, I can have you reassigned.”
“No, ma’am,” Mitchell said, biting off the words. “No problem.”
“Good.” Rebecca worked her shoulders to ease some of the tension, then she looked at Sandy. “If Trudy or anyone else contacts you, I want you to at least try to postpone the meet until you can call me. Watts will fit you out with a wire—”
“Uh-uh. No freakin’ way is he doing it.”
“Aw, I can’t believe you’d say no to a little fun.” Watts grinned. “Believe me, you’d like it.”
“I don’t think your heart could take it.”
“As long as I live long enough to slip it up—”
“Shut up, Watts.” Mitchell said the words quietly, calmly, as she turned in her seat to face him.
He stared at her in surprise. There was something cold and lethal in her expression.
“Dell—” Sandy’s voice was soft, gentle.
“Mitchell, you’re dismissed. Wait in the other room.” Rebecca didn’t even spare a glance in Mitchell’s direction as Mitchell stood abruptly and walked from the room.
“Let’s go, officer.” Rebecca turned and headed for the elevator.
Mitchell rose from the chair where she had been sitting motionless for thirty interminable minutes and followed into the elevator without a word. When they reached streetside, Rebecca turned right and began walking toward the river. Mitchell fell into step.
“We have a problem,” Rebecca said flatly as they crossed Front Street at Market.
Mitchell said nothing. She knew what was coming. Another disciplinary action. And this time it would mean the end of her career.
“What’s going on with you and Sandy?”
“I’m in love with her.” Mitchell couldn’t see any point in lying. Not any longer.
“That’s just terrific.” Rebecca sighed. Silently, she led the way onto the concrete footbridge which arched over Delaware Avenue to Penn’s Landing, climbed to the top, and stopped. “What if I ordered you to choose between Sandy and the job?”
“I’d quit.”
“Christ,” Rebecca muttered. She turned her back to the wall, leaned a hip against the stone, and faced Mitchell. “You’ve got the makings of an exemplary officer in almost every way—you’re intelligent, dedicated, trustworthy.” She didn’t add brave, but she believed it.
“Thank you, sergeant.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m not done yet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But you’ve got a very serious weakness, Officer Mitchell. Your temper. You were insubordinate back there, and it’s not the first time. I’ve let it slide before, but I can’t do that now.”
“I understand, ma’am.” Jesus, just tell me I’m out. Just say it.
“I don’t think you do.” Rebecca watched Mitchell carefully. “Ordinarily, a little bit of temper isn’t a bad thing. You need that fire burning inside to face danger without flinching. Do you understand?”
Mitchell thought about going down the alley in the dark, in the rain, alone, barely able to see an inch in front of her face. Knowing that whoever was waiting was probably bigger, probably stronger, and probably armed. But she’d heard a woman scream, and that had made her angry. It was the anger as much as her sense of duty that had carried her into that alley. Softly, she answered, “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”
“But a fire you can’t control will eat you up, and something’s eating you up now.”
Mitchell said nothing. Her insides rolled, and for a minute, she feared she might vomit.
“You need to take yourself off the team if you can’t deal with what Sandy is doing.”
“Aren’t I off already?” Mitchell looked at Rebecca, confusion in her eyes.
“That depends. I can’t tell you who to sleep with. I can’t tell you who to love.” Rebecca looked past Mitchell to a ship that slowly made its way into the port of Philadelphia. She thought about Catherine, and how having Catherine in her life had made her a better cop because her own fires consumed less of her now. “I can tell you that if you can’t give her up, you’re going to have to learn to live with who she is.” Rebecca turned her gaze back to Mitchell’s face. “And what she does.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not hard enough.”
Mitchell nodded.
“You need to sort this out, in a hurry. I can’t order you to, but I think maybe you need to talk to Dr. Rawlings.”
“I want to be on this team more than anything in my life, except being with Sa—”
“I got that the first time, Mitchell,” Rebecca snapped. “Stop telling me things I don’t want to know about.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mitchell straightened. “I’ll talk to Dr. Rawlings.”
“Your business.” Rebecca held Mitchell’s eyes. “You lose it one more time and you’re gone. I’ll put it in your file, and they’ll bury you somewhere until you quit from sheer boredom.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rebecca nodded and turned toward back toward Old City. “Let’s go. Jason says he has work for you.”
“Thank you, sergeant. I hope I—”
“Don’t thank me, Mitchell. Just get me a lead, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m on it.”
At the corner of Front and Arch, Rebecca spied the thin blond in the short leather skirt, shiny black faux-motorcycle jacket, and calf high, stack-heeled boots lounging against a light pole. Her face betrayed nothing but ennui, but her eyes were alive and riveted on Mitchell’s face. Rebecca sighed and glanced sideways at Mitchell. The officer’s expression was just as nonchalant as that of the woman who watched her, but her gaze was hungry.
“Christ.” Rebecca pulled her keys from her blazer pocket and stopped by her car. “Five minutes, Mitchell, and then get your ass back upstairs.”
In a rare breach of protocol, Mitchell forgot to reply as she hurried over to Sandy. She barely heard the Vette revving in the background or the engine roar as Rebecca pulled away.
“Hi,” Mitchell said quietly, reaching for Sandy’s hand. Their fingers entwined and she held their joined hands between their bodies, out of sight of casual observers.
“You okay?” Sandy asked.
“Yeah.” Mitchell grinned sheepishly. “I’m missing a few pieces of my anatomy, but, yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Dell.” Sandy searched Mitchell’s eyes, looking for the real wounds. “I’m really sorry.”
“Why? It wasn’t your fault. I got hot upstairs and mouthed off to Watts. That’s what Frye was on me about.”
Sandy looked away, remembering the pain in her girlfriend’s eyes when Frye had come down on Mitchell at the briefing. She remembered, too, Frye’s warning about what any kind of relationship with Sandy could do to Mitchell’s career. “You know, rookie, I can’t afford to cross Frye on this deal. If hanging around with you is going to screw it up, maybe we better coo—”
“Don’t…” Mitchell’s voice broke and she swallowed hard. “Don’t do this to me, Sandy. Please.”
Sandy had never imagined that someone else’s pain could hurt so much. “Dell, I…I don’t know what to do.”
“Just don’t leave me, okay?” Mitchell caught Sandy’s hand. “I need you.”
“You’re nuts.” Sandy’s heart hurt, hearing the words. Hurt in a good way, like something inside of her that had lain cold and buried for longer than she could recall was coming to life. “I don’t want to need you.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Mitchell smiled sadly. “I always knew you were the tough one.”
Sandy brushed her fingers down Mitchell’s chest. “I said I didn’t want to…I didn’t say I don’t.”
“That sounds so good.” Mitchell closed her eyes and rubbed Sandy’s fingers against her cheek.
“Jeez, will you cool it.” Sandy jerked her hand away and looked around nervously. “What if Watts or someone sees us.”
Mitchell shrugged. “Won’t matter now. I told Frye about us.”
- The Grail Quest 1 - Harlequin - Bernard Cornwell - Прочее
- The Grail Quest 2 - Vagabond - Bernard Cornwell - Прочее
- The Information Officer - Mark Mills - Прочее
- We will meet again - Алекс Бранд - Прочее
- Shoot It Again - Ed Lacy - Прочее
- Make love not war ! - Вероника Батхен - Прочее
- История искусств. Просто о важном. Стили, направления и течения - Алина Сергеевна Аксёнова - Прочее
- Sin In Their Blood - Ed Lacy - Прочее
- wolf world-3 - ShtainAG - Прочее
- Помолодевший мастер войны - 2 - Кирилл Неумытов - Прочее