Flames
Flames
A round-robin novel by the authors of the Mansion, in honor of the heroes of September 11th, 2001.
Chapter Four
Secrets.
The last thing Jack needed was this woman's secrets. Secrets had a way of
binding people together, creating intimacy where none had existed. Intimacy
with Dinah Louis wasn't in his plans.
Images of Marisol -- grim and defiant, laughing and bright-eyed --
flashed in his mind. He'd thought for a while that there might be an
opportunity for intimacy with the feisty cop.
Heat crept into his cheeks at the memory of how he'd treated her. Her
laughter at Spanelli's injury wasn't so terrible, after all -- plenty of
people laughed as a way of fending off emotions they couldn't accept or
control. He knew Marisol didn't have a mean bone in her body. Why hadn't he
given her the benefit of the doubt?
He knew why. He'd come down so hard on her because he was too damned
attracted, and she made it too damned easy to lose sight of why he was here.
Why all of them were here.
And, if he were really honest, because she scared him a little -- she and
the magnetic pull she had on him. But did he really want to lose any chance
with her? With the only woman who'd ever affected him this way?
You blew it, Jack ol' buddy.
"You're thinking of another woman."
Dinah's voice cut into his thoughts with the sharp edge of a razor. It
sucked to be fair-skinned and prone to blushing. He'd bet Marisol didn't
suffer that problem. Marisol, of the rich café-au-lait skin and fiery black
eyes ...
"It's that Benitez woman, isn't it?" Dinah demanded, her red lips pressed
into a petulant line. "Not very nice of you, Jack."
Jack felt himself bristling. "Ms. Benitez is just a colleague."
"Right." She blew another cloud of smoke into his face, and he resisted
the urge to wave it away. "I can't figure what you see in her. Acts and looks
like a dyke to me -- I mean, what sort of woman wants to be a cop, anyway?
But maybe you go for that type."
Jack squared his shoulders. "Ms. Louis, I don't care for that sort of
talk. Ms. Benitez's sexual preferences aren't my concern or yours."
Dinah laughed. "Sure. Whatever." Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe you need a few
lessons in loving, Jack. A little reminder of what a real woman can do."
Jack had had enough. "I don't think so." He took a step away. "I
appreciate your help with Spanelli, Ms. Louis. I'll say good-night."
All things considered, Dinah Louis did a fair job of hiding the anger she
must be feeling. The corner of her lip twisted up, and she tossed her
half-smoked cigarette at his feet. Instantly he brought his boot down on top
of it to snuff the glowing embers.
"Oh, don't worry, Jack. It looks like I won't be setting any fires
tonight." She turned her back on him and started toward the barracks. "It's
not natural disasters I'd be looking out for if I were you. You may wish
you'd brought a gun yourself."
She strode with surprising speed away from the dying campfire, leaving
Jack to stare after her. What she'd said sank into his brain like cold coffee
grounds in the bottom of a soggy filter.
What the hell had she meant by that?
He almost ran after her to demand an answer. Her last remark had sounded
suspiciously like a warning, and if she had inside knowledge about some
threat to the exercises, she had no right to play coy about it.
But some instinct -- the instinct for survival, the kind he trusted when
he faced a fire -- told him she wasn't likely to confide in him now, and he'd
never threatened a woman. Better to follow her and see what she was up to. If
he found her engaged in any suspicious behavior, he'd report it immediately.
And since she was staying in the same tent as Marisol, the logical thing
to do was to ask the cop if she'd begin regular surveillance on Dinah. Of
course, that meant taking her into his confidence and asking for her help.
He didn't know whether to feel dismay or anticipation.
He set off at a trot after Dinah, hoping she was headed straight back to
the barracks. But soft, shadowy voices coming from behind a stand of spruce
trees told him she wasn't.
Dinah's voice ... and Marcus's.
He found a good vantage point to watch without being seen, and dropped
into a crouch. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but Dinah's body
language did more than hint at direct interest in Marcus, and he was leaning
close enough to suggest that the feeling was mutual.
But Marcus hadn't shown any response to her advances before. She wasn't
his type, not by a long shot. Dinah made a gesture that encompassed the area.
Marcus nodded. He glanced around warily, possibly looking for eavesdroppers.
Jack's stomach clenched.
What's going on, Marcus? This isn't just some midnight tryst.
Even as the troubled thought passed through his mind, Dinah and Marcus
split up. Jack noted grimly that they took divergent routes back to the
barracks, as if they didn't want to be seen together.
Swallowing the tightness in his throat, Jack strode for Marisol's tent.
He had to talk to her before Dinah got back -- and figure out a good excuse
to pull her out of her bed if she wasn't alone.
Yeah. He could think of a few good reasons. His imagination had taken up
residence in a location a little lower than his brain.
He paused outside the tent flap when he heard the sound of feminine
voices inside. Well, she definitely wasn't alone. He couldn't tell if Dinah
was with the rest of the women, but he was pretty sure he'd beaten her there.
A burst of laughter told him that they were having fun, anyway. "No, no,
no!" Marisol's voice chided, half laughing. "That's not the way. You've got
to put some brio into it, like this!"
Jack lifted the flap. Marisol and a tall redhead were holding hands while
the cop demonstrated a dance step in the narrow aisle between the cots. She
guided her partner in a fluid, sensual motion, and then broke free to
demonstrate the step solo.
He couldn't take his eyes from her. That tense, wiry body held a grace he
hadn't imagined. She flung her head back and threw herself into the mambo,
humming a spicy tune to accompany her dance. Black hair swirled around her
ecstatic face, and her hips wiggled from side to side in a tantalizing
display.
Damn, but she was sexy as hell. Without thinking, he stepped into the
tent. One of the women saw him and started in surprise, letting out a gasp.
The redhead turned to look at him with an uncertain smile. Marisol froze in
mid-step. The joy in her face vanished, leaving a hard, cold mask.
He hated her expression, hated that he'd caused it. He might as well be
Spanelli, the way she was glaring at him. But there was no backing out now.
"Marisol," he said, rolling her name on his tongue with liquid
familiarity. He took her hand before she could protest and pulled her toward
the door. Her feet skidded on the canvas of the tent floor.
He turned her resistance into an advantage, swinging about to take her in
his arms. He kissed her on the threshold and, making the most of her shock,
carried her out into the night.
Once outside, she jerked free and faced him down. Her breath came in hard
puffs of mist, and he noticed that she wasn't wearing a coat. The fire in her
eyes was enough to heat the entire camp.
He shrugged out of his own jacket. "Here," he said. "Put this on."
"What the hell was that for?" she demanded, brushing him off. "I told you
I didn't want to compromise my reputation on the force. And anyway, I thought
you didn't like me anymore."
He winced. "Yeah, I was a little ... harsh about the burn incident. I
tend to go straight into professional mode if someone's hurt, and I don't
much worry about collateral damage."
Her shoulders relaxed slightly. "I can understand that," she said with
some reluctance. "But you sure made a lot of snap judgments about me, even if
I was a jerk for laughing."
"So we both made mistakes. But I don't think they're fatal -- are they?"
A faint smile touched her sensuous mouth. "Hardly."
"Great." He pushed at the dirt with the toe of his boot. Better be
totally up-front with her, not lead her to think he was pursuing her for
personal reasons -- at least, not at the moment. "There's really not much
time to be mad, because I think something serious is going on."
She snapped to full attention, like the professional he knew she was.
"What are you talking about?"
"We shouldn't be discussing it here that's why I took you out the way I
did. It may be nothing, but I'd rather not arouse suspicions."
"Now you've really got me curious," she said, but without humor. She
matched his own mood with an empathy that took his breath away. How had they
found it so easy to quarrel before?
"Let's go, then. There's a clearing in the woods no one else is apt to
stumble on."
"Okay." She frowned. "Just let me tell the others -- "
"Do you really think that's necessary?" He grinned to show he was teasing.
"I guess not." She looked as if she should have been blushing, but his
first guess was right -- this wasn't a lady who would let her consternation
show, either consciously or unconsciously.
He took her hand, prepared for her rejection of it. But she let him lead
her away, and the delicate strength in her fingers told him he'd made the
right decision.
It's starting all over again.
Marisol knew she was loco for sure. Not only had she let him kiss her --
let, because no guy got that close without her permission -- but now she was
going off to the woods with him because he'd dropped some mysterious hints
that intrigued her.
Almost as much as he did.
Estupida. He made it pretty clear this is serious business.
Still, his strong hand enfolding hers gave her the unfamiliar feeling of
being protected. She, Marisol Benitez, protected -- as if she couldn't take
care of herself.
She liked the feeling just a little too much.
She shook her hand free and preceded him into the trees, grateful for the
light of the pumpkin moon. Once Jack found the spot he wanted, he scanned the
shadows with the care and vigilance of a timber wolf. Or the way she imagined
a timber wolf would, anyway.
No wolves here ... except maybe the human kind.
"Okay," she whispered. "We're alone. What is it?"
He folded his arms across his chest. "It's about Dinah Louis."
She listened as he recounted his "discussion" with Dinah, her final
cryptic remark, and her subsequent meeting with Marcus. When he finished, he
looked at her expectantly, one sandy brow raised.
"You want my opinion?" Marisol asked. "I didn't like Dinah the first time
I met her. I didn't trust her then, and I don't now."
"Exactly. And that's why I'd like you to watch her closely. The exercises
start tomorrow, and things are going to get pretty hectic. You'll have a
better chance of getting her to open up, maybe reveal what she's got on her
mind when you're in the barracks with her."
"You want us to have a nice girl-to-girl chat?" She parked one hand on
her hip and snorted. "Yeah. I don't think so."
"I'm not asking this as a personal favor. I -- "
"Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't help. Just that it won't be easy." She
chewed her lower lip. "I can't figure what she'd be up to, gun or no gun. She
may not be on the level, but she's no terrorist. And she's no more Marcus's
type than she is yours."
She didn't mean the last word to lift as if in a question, but that was
how it sounded. Jack frowned, withdrawing inside himself.
"She's not," he murmured. It was clear to Marisol that he was lost in
memories, likely of some other woman.
"Dinah reminds you of someone, doesn't she?" Marisol said, wishing she
had more sense than to pick at a scab but unable to help herself. Maldita sea
, she had to know.
Jack shook himself back to the present. "Like I said, my personal
feelings don't enter into this. Right now, we need to find out why Dinah and
Marcus were "
"No way. No way is Marcus involved in anything shady." She wondered if
her vehemence was as much for herself as for him. "He's as true-blue as they
come."
"That's been my experience. But by now we all know how much appearances
can deceive."
"That doesn't mean we give up the faith. We can't live our lives in
terror and suspicion."
"No. But you understand, I'm going to have to watch Marcus, too."
"Do me a favor and be subtle about it. It's going to hurt him if he finds
out he's been under suspicion -- and we'll both lose his friendship when he's
cleared."
"I'm sure I can be just as subtle as you can."
Was he mocking her? The way her emotions were spinning, she didn't dare
answer. She took a sharp step back. "I'm going to talk to Marcus myself. I'm
sure he can explain -- "
"No. We don't want to reveal our interest until we have more
information.Otherwise, if -- just if -- there is something going on, our
chance to find out what it is might be shot for good."
He was right, but no cop worth her salt needed to be told how to conduct
an investigation. "I think we should start trusting each other's judgment if
we're going to be partners."
"Partners," he repeated softly. "I kind of like the sound of that."
She shivered. "Look, I'd better get to the barracks if you want me to
talk to Dinah." She turned to go, and he caught her arm.
"They're not going to believe our cover story if you rush back so
quickly."
His voice was husky with desire, carrying her to that first meeting in these
same woods. Her heart soared to the top of her throat.
"That's easy," she said, with a forced chuckle. "I'll just pretend that
we quarreled. It's not very unlikely in our case, is it?"
"Somehow, quarreling with you isn't like -- " His eyes took on that
faraway expression. "It's not like with anyone else."
"I guess that's a compliment. Are you sure you don't want to tell me
about her?"
She imagined he was blushing again. "Not until I've talked to her. Right
after the exercises."
"I don't want to get between you and your girlfriend."
"It's over." His fingers tightened on her arm and released. "It was over
... before I meet you. And now -- "
Her heart did another mambo. "I thought we were supposed to leave emotion
out of this."
He held up both hands. "Uncle." But his eyes caught the moonlight and
glittered with something quite the opposite of surrender. He wasn't going to
let this go.
And she realized with a sigh of acceptance that she wasn't going to,
either.
They parted without the kiss she'd been half dreading and half craving,
but the warmth of his touch remained with her as she walked back to the
barracks. At the last minute, she took a detour and went the extra distance
to the tent where Marcus was housed.
He'd probably be sound asleep. But she couldn't get Jack's description of
Marcus's meeting with Dinah out of her mind. As illogical as it seemed, she
just had to get a glimpse of her old friend for reassurance. She crept up to
the tent flap and crouched to peer inside.
"Looking for someone?"
She whirled about, reaching for a gun that wasn't at its usual place at
her hip.
Hosting and technical
assistance provided by
www.alinaadams.com