Page 13 of Missing Justice
Chapter Three
“You go on ahead,” Taylor said to Meredith on the steps of the senator’s house. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Later?” Mer’s voice was full of warning. “Taylor, what are you up to?”
“Mr. Stephens said he would share Felicity’s dental records. I need to catch up with him and give him my email, that’s all. I’ll grab a cab back to the office.”
Her boss didn’t believe it for a minute. “Is there something going on between you and the PI I should know about? Besides the fact he closed one of your cases for you?”
Ouch.
“No,” Taylor lied. Seemed like she was doing a lot of that today. Guilt sat like a tart apple in her stomach. “We met at the conference and chatted. I didn’t realize he’d been hired by Senator Jarvis, but as long as he can provide the dental records, I might as well use him.”
And maybe he has other information I can use too.
Mer made her way down the steps and to her car, shaking her head. “Keep me posted,” she said over the hood, then climbed in and drove away.
A vintage Mustang was parked kitty corner of the matching Beamers. Taylor pulled out her phone and walked over to the car, setting a hip against the passenger door as she scrolled through her phone contacts. She needed Matt’s number so she could text him to get his fine ass out here, but she didn’t have it. No doubt Janiece, her cold case team’s computer guru, could get it for her faster than Siri.
She’d just hit Janiece’s number when a voice cut through the mental riot act going on in her head. Too bad because she’d planned on laying that baby on Matt.
“Are you stalkingmenow, sweetheart?”
Taylor ended the call to Janiece before it connected and did a slow pivot to find the man himself standing on the front steps with that shit-ass, cocky grin on his face. “I’m too tired to be your stalker.”
“That’s what happens after a night with me and no coffee to recharge your batteries. We should go get some. Or maybe you’re ready for another orgasm to recharge yourself? I’m happy to oblige.”
Could he say that a little louder?
Taylor flicked her gaze over his shoulder and prayed no one inside was listening. The door was closed, the windows empty of eavesdroppers, thank God. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. “You are so goddamn arrogant.”
He smiled big, but kept standing on the steps several feet away as if she had cooties. “Hey, what can I say? Mad Dog loves to pleasure a beautiful woman. Now come over here, stalker, and tell me what you really want.”
Gah! He was infuriating. Taylor stomped toward him but since he was still on the steps, he towered over her. Not the best strategy for reading him the riot act.
So she climbed the steps to get face-to-face with those pretty baby blues.
Good thing her heels gave her four inches, because she still came up short and had to tip her face up to meet his gaze.
“You’re damn right you owe me coffee,” she said, lowering her voice, “and I’m not totally ruling out a midday quickie, but I want those dental records ASAP. Give me your phone.”
She held out her hand. He hesitated a moment, his wide smile turning wolfish as he handed her his cell. “Bossy. I like it.”
Reining in the urge to stomp the top of his foot with one of her heels, she pulled up his contacts and punched in her phone number and email. “Why don’t you have your phone password protected?” she chastised while she typed.
“I have nothing to hide.”
Right. His tone suggested he found her scolding humorous. Another urge to stomp on his foot rose and she squelched it. “Here’s my cell number and email. I expect those records by lunchtime.”
“What about not sharing our cases, Agent Sinclair? That’s a no-no according to your rules. You wouldn’t be offering me another roll in the sack just to bribe me, would you?”
She looked him square in the eyes, giving him one of his own grins back. She was tired, but she wasn’t going to bite. “You don’t follow rules, do you, Matt?”
He slid close, brushing his chest against hers and copping a feel of her ass. “Breaking them is so much more fun,” he teased as he leaned down and nuzzled her ear.
No longer able to hold back, she cuffed him on the bicep. A nice, firm one she’d had the pleasure of squeezing most of the night. “Stop being an idiot. You know what I meant this morning and this is a whole other ball of wax. We’re on the same case. It only makes sense for us to work together.”
He gave her space again as he took his phone back and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Not sure I see it that way. Seems to me, we’re looking at the same case in very different ways. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you suspect my client is guilty of murdering his first wife.”
