Turn On A Dime - Kade's Turn (Kathleen Turner Series Book 7) Page 6

  “So she just happens to be at your house, wearing your clothes, at nearly one o’clock in the morning, and you’re not sleeping with her?” Kade snorted in derision.

  “That’s right,” Blane said.

  Kade just shook his head. “I’ve seen you bounce from woman to woman and back to Kandi too many times to believe that.”

  “Can we get back to Kat now?” Blane said impatiently. “Why are you here and not there?”

  Kade bypassed Blane to pour himself a drink. “I’ve got someone watching the place. She’s fine. Just taking a break, that’s all.”

  “Bullshit. What’d you do?”

  “You know what?” Kade slouched onto the leather sofa, stretching one arm along the back while he took a sip of the aged scotch. “Let’s talk about all the things your ‘girlfriend’ isn’t telling you.” He used quotey fingers for girlfriend.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Like the dead animal someone left for her yesterday morning, complete with creepy message written in blood on her car. Or the package she got today. A human eye, lovingly wrapped and left on her doorstep.” His lips twisted. “Someone’s been watching too many movies,” he sing-songed, waggling his eyebrows. He took another drink of the scotch.

  Blane stared at him. “Are you shitting me right now? I asked her if anything had happened yesterday. She said no.”

  Kade shrugged. “She lies.”

  “No, she doesn’t. I know her and she’s not the lying type.”

  Kade snorted. Blane could usually spot a liar, and Kathleen was awful at it. Maybe he had a blind spot when it came to her. “Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think you do,” he said.

  Blane cursed, turning away and shoving his hand through his hair. He walked behind his desk and started searching through drawers.

  Kade frowned. “What are you looking for?”

  “A fucking cigarette.”

  Digging into his inside jacket pocket, he tossed a pack at Blane, who caught it. “Better use air freshener afterward,” Kade cautioned as Blane lit up. “Mona’s like a bloodhound.”

  Blane took a deep drag before replying. “I can handle Mona,” he said on an exhale, smoke writhing in the air.

  “Yeah, but not as well as me.”

  Blane glanced sideways at him. “True.”

  “Any idea who’d pull a stunt like this?” Kade asked, watching as Blane grabbed a file off his desk. He dropped it in Kade’s lap, then sat opposite him in one of the two matching wingback chairs.

  “No clue.” He gestured to the file. “There’s info on the case. You can take a look. See if anything jumps out at you.”

  Kade started flipping through the file. “So what happened today?”

  “One of my witnesses disappeared. Brian Bowers. A SEAL who was there. He was going to testify in my client’s defense. Now he’s in the wind.”

  Kade glanced up. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Blane replied, taking another drag. “And between that and another one doing a one-eighty on his testimony, things don’t look real great for my guy.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yep.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, Kade polishing off the scotch while Blane finished his cigarette.

  “How’s Kat holding up?” Blane asked.

  “Better than most,” Kade said. “I dropped the eye with a buddy at the FBI, asked them to run forensics on it.”

  “Someone sent her a fucking eye?” Blane asked, shaking his head. “Fuck me.”

  “No shit. This is one serious motherfucker. Think it’d be a good idea for Kathleen to have a sick day. Or three.”

  Blane nodded. “Agreed. I’m at court first thing in the morning, so call it in to Diane, would you?”

  “You bet.”

  There was a pause before Blane asked, “So. You and Kathleen. How much sucking up do you have to do before she’ll let you back into her apartment?”

  “I’ll use my charm,” Kade joked.

  Blane rolled his eyes. “God forbid.”

  An image of Kathleen in his arms, Kade’s tongue in her cleavage, flashed behind Kade’s eyes. He squirmed uncomfortably, then got to his feet.

  “I’m headed back then. She ought to be in bed by now. She can’t throw me out if she’s asleep,” he reasoned, avoiding Blane’s eyes.

  Blane heaved a sigh. “Try not to piss her off, will you? She’s sweet and nice. Too nice.”

  Sweet and nice weren’t what Kade thought of when he pictured Kathleen snarling a Fuck you at him or when she’d been hurling heavy objects at his head. But he didn’t mention that to Blane.

  “Got it.” Setting aside his glass, he caught Blane’s eye. “I’ll keep her safe,” he promised. “You do the same. If somebody kills you while I’m playing bodyguard for your flavor-of-the-month, I’m gonna be pissed.”

  Blane just nodded, a small smile playing about his lips. “You worry like an old woman. Get the hell out.”

  Kathleen was asleep by the time Kade got back, which was a relief. She seemed zonked but looked like she’d tossed and turned, the covers now all twisted around her bare legs. She was just wearing that damn T-shirt to bed again. He was going to buy her a pair of those footy pajamas for Christmas just so he wouldn’t be tempted to stand here and stare at her satin and lace covered ass all night.

  Carefully, Kade tugged the blankets free and pulled them up over her, not wanting to wake her. But she didn’t move, her breaths even and deep. Both the dog and cat were snuggled in the bed with her, the lucky little bastards.

  Kade grabbed Kathleen’s purse on the way to the living room, flicking on a light before dumping its contents on the couch. He discarded his jacket, then tugged off his shirt, tossing it in the general direction of his suitcase.

  Grabbing her cell, he popped open the battery cover. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a tiny GPS he’d put together himself and stuck it inside.

  “No more pulling that disappearing shit on me again,” he muttered to himself as he replaced the cover.

  Digging through the pile of stuff, he found some lip gloss, a small hair brush, two pens emblazoned with the Gage, Kirk, and Trent logo, a dog-eared book that looked like it had been read several times—Vampires? Really? Kade thought—a few receipts, a checkbook with about three hundred dollars and change in the account, a set of keys, and several scraps of paper. Looking through these, one caught his eye.

  “Jackpot,” Kade murmured, scanning the list of names and addresses. They were all in the file Blane had given him. Looks like Little Miss I-Ran-Errands had been doing some investigating of her own. Interesting.

  Shoving the paper in his pocket, Kade replaced the stuff in the purse and set it back on the kitchen table. Unsurprisingly, Kathleen hadn’t made up the couch for him, but that was okay. A homemade quilt was thrown over the back and that suited him just fine.

  Kade was awakened shortly after dawn by a weight on top of him. Cracking open his eyes, he saw Tigger had made himself at home on his chest and was staring at him, purring.

  A noise made Kade turn his head and he saw the dog sitting next to the couch, its tongue lolling out. He regretted making eye contact immediately because the dog began wagging his tail, stood, and turned in a circle. Twice.

  “This is why I don’t have animals,” Kade groused. He dislodged the cat, who was not pleased. “Talk to your buddy,” Kade said. “He’s the one who wants to go outside.”

  Throwing his jacket on over his bare chest, he shoved his gun in the back of his jeans, grabbed the leash, and took the dog out. It was bitterly cold and the dog took its sweet time. When they were finally back inside, Kade was wide awake. He started a pot of coffee, then headed for the shower. By the time he was done shaving, the coffee was done and he felt more human.

  The paper had been delivered to a neighbor downstairs and Kade had snatched it off the sidewalk on his way in. Sitting down at the kitchen table, he read
the sports section while he drank his coffee. He called the office and reached a paralegal who said Diane wasn’t in yet.

  “When she does get in, tell her Kathleen’s ill today and won’t be at work,” Kade said.

  “Will do.”

  Two cups of coffee and an hour later, he heard Kathleen.

  “Holy crap!”

  She flew out of the bedroom into the bathroom so fast, she didn’t even see him. Kade turned a page and waited, though his attention was no longer on the newspaper in his hand. Exactly how pissed was she going to be? Guess he’d find out.

  After a faster shower than he would have thought a woman capable, she emerged, dripping wet and wearing nothing but a tiny bath towel.

  Fuck.

  It seemed she had the same thought because she stopped short at the sight of him.

  Kade could no more stop his eyes from wandering over her than if someone had asked him to stop the sun from rising. Her long hair was plastered to her naked shoulders, water streaming in rivulets over her breasts, the thin, white towel was nearly transparent and ended right at the tops of her thighs.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She pulled the towel tighter and higher and Kade clenched the paper in his hands. His dick was hard as a rock—apparently a perpetual state of being around her. He swallowed down a groan.

  “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” He managed a smirk, simultaneously hoping she’d pull that towel an inch higher and that she’d hightail it back to her bedroom.

  “Actually, I thought I had,” she shot back.

  “Doesn’t work that way, princess,” Kade said, “especially since you have my clothes.” A pathetic excuse, seeing as how he had an apartment in Indy, but she didn’t know that.

  Kathleen glanced where he indicated, at the couch where his suitcase stood.

  “I’m late for work,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about that. I called in sick for you.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You called in for me?” she repeated. “You…you can’t do that!”

  “Already done. Blane thought it was a good idea, if that helps at all,” Kade replied. “Though if prior experience has taught me anything, it’s that you have a mind of your own.”

  The words came out automatically, but part of his brain was busy drinking in the fact that she still stood in next to nothing. A drop of water trailed down her jaw and throat, disappearing into the shadow of cleavage.

  Kade cleared his throat, jerking the paper up in front of him.

  “Get dressed. Then we’ll talk.” Or fuck, which sounded way more fun.

  He tried to focus on the words on the page, but all he could see was her. The blow dryer started up in her room and Kade tossed the paper down in disgust. It looked like he was going to spend his day working on this case of Blane’s because the sooner he could get out of town, the better off he’d be.

  When she finally came back, Kade’s lips twisted at what she was wearing—dark jeans and a navy turtleneck. She’d pinned her hair up and Kade couldn’t tell if she wore makeup, not that she needed it. Her skin was flawless strawberries and cream, the color of her eyes made even more prominent by the blue shirt she wore. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, her eyes glancing down to the paper Kade had casually placed in the middle.

  “How did you get that?” She made a grab for it, but Kade was quicker, snatching it away.

  “Since you weren’t being very…cooperative,” an understatement, “I thought I’d see for myself where you’d been yesterday.” He held it up so she could see it. “Who are these people?” Of course, he already knew who they were, but he wanted to see if she’d tell him, if she’d trust him again.

  She hesitated, seeming to consider her words—consider him—before she spoke. “They’re people I thought might know something about who is behind these threats to Blane.”

  Something like relief melted through Kade. She’d told him the truth.

  “And how would you know that?”

  “I read through the case. Ryan Sheffield is the JAG officer who testified the other day for the prosecution. Stacey Willows is the fiancée of the man who commanded the mission. Ron Freeman and Brian Bowers are SEALs on that same mission with Kyle.”

  Not only had she read the file, she remembered it without even glancing at the list in his hand. Nice.

  “I figured whoever was doing this might be someone they knew,” she continued. “Someone who disagreed with what they’d done and the know-how and skills to fire that sniper shot at me.”

  Beauty and brains? In a girl of Blane’s? Unheard of.

  “How unexpectedly intelligent of you,” he said, hiding the tinge of admiration he was feeling. “Color me shocked.”

  Color crept up her cheeks, but she didn’t respond to his light jab.

  “You went to see these people yesterday?” Kade asked, hoping the answer was no. If she was right and one of them had someone stalking them, they could have easily taken her out, too.

  “Two of them,” she answered. “Stacey Willows and Ryan Sheffield. I was planning on going to see Ron Freeman and Brian Bowers today.”

  The name Bowers struck a memory. “Well, you can mark Bowers off the list.”

  “Why?”

  “Blane told me he’s disappeared. No one can find him. That makes him look guilty, makes Kyle look guilty, and makes things a hell of a lot harder for Blane. But that just leave us Freeman to visit.” Standing, Kade again pocketed the paper, but Kathleen just sat there, staring up at him.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Really.” He bent over her, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair. “See how easy that was? If you’d just told me this yesterday, you wouldn’t have pissed me off, resulting in that rather…unpleasant scene when you got back.”

  She didn’t speak, just stared up at him with those wide blue eyes. Kade caught a whiff of her scent and wished he hadn’t. Getting close had been a bad idea, and suddenly he was reliving last night inside his head. His hands tightened on the chair so he wouldn’t touch her and the moment stretched longer than it should. Her pulse beat under the delicate skin of her jaw, speeding up noticeably.

  “I’m hungry,” he blurted. “Let’s eat first.” He put some much needed distance between them, going to the refrigerator to look inside. Actually, it was to cool off—Kade already knew there was nothing to eat in there—but the frigid air on his face helped.

  “Don’t you eat?” he asked her over his shoulder.

  “Of course I eat!” she quickly replied. “I just haven’t been to the store lately, that’s all.”

  Right. And the three hundred dollars in the bank account had to last until her next paycheck, which wasn’t for two weeks. Why exactly hadn’t Blane given her a raise or something? She obviously wouldn’t take money from him, but Blane could’ve put through a jump in her salary. It’s the least she deserved for putting up with all this shit.

  Of course, Blane had never had to worry about money, had never lived paycheck-to-paycheck where you had to decide whether you wanted to eat or put gas in your car. It was fortunate for him, but meant money wasn’t something he really thought about, which was unfortunate for Kathleen.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “I know a great breakfast place.”

  Kathleen seemed good with that, getting her coat from the closet and was shrugging it on when the phone rang. She picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  Whoever it was must’ve been someone she knew because rather than saying she was on her way out, she sat down on the couch.

  “It’s good to hear from you! How are you doing?”

  Shit. Looked like breakfast would be delayed. Kathleen glanced his way and he rolled his eyes to let her know what he thought of having to wait for her to chat on the phone. She looked away as she listened so Kade sauntered over to the Christmas tree. Damn, she had a shit ton of those ornaments.

  One
caught his eye while he listened with half an ear to the conversation. A gold locket. Taking it off the branch, Kade popped it open to reveal a picture of a man and woman standing in front of a fireplace. The woman looked too much like Kathleen to be anyone other than her mother, and Kade remembered his file on her. Both parents deceased.

  “Five thousand dollars! For what?”

  That caught his attention and Kade listened more closely.

  “Why so much? Why now? It’s been weeks.” She was quiet again, then let loose a high-pitched “What?” that made Kade wince.

  “That’s a ‘good offer’?” she asked.

  Kade abandoned any pretense that he wasn’t listening, now watching Kathleen closely as she talked.

  “Um, okay…Yeah, sure…Thanks for letting me know, Gracie. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Gracie. The prostitute Kathleen had shacked up with that night she’d run away from Blane’s. What the hell did she want?

  “Who was that?” he asked once she’d hung up.

  “Gracie. She said that I…owe…Simone five thousand dollars and if I don’t pay, she’ll send someone to collect it. Simone said I could work it off by meeting some guy at the Crowne Plaza Saturday night.”

  How cute. She was too embarrassed to even meet his eye when she said work it off.

  Simone was a practical businesswoman, so the phone call and attempt to collect wasn’t that far out of the realm of possibility.

  “I fail to see the problem,” Kade said, which was obviously the wrong thing to say because Kathleen got pissed pretty damn fast.

  “Of course you wouldn’t. Just another day in the life, right? You think I sleep around already, so why not get paid for it?”

  If only she was the kind that slept around and not one of those women who thought sex should mean something. But the fact that she was certain Kade thought she was a slut made him feel like a shit, so he lashed out.

  “I meant that I’m sure Blane will pay whatever the cost to make sure you don’t have to fuck somebody on Simone’s orders.”

  She winced and Kade wanted to kick himself. Blane was right. Was it impossible for him to go for a week without being a total dick to her? She didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t her fault Kade couldn’t get her out of his head.