Page 49 of Missing Justice
Chapter Nine
“Why Walt and Felicity?” Matt said, nuzzling Taylor’s ear as she stuck her key in the lock of her condo. “What was special about Baby Jarvis?”
It was a question they’d already hashed over at dinner. After the meeting, they’d both been starving and hopped up on adrenaline from their little undercover sting. Matt had driven her by her place to change clothes and then he’d taken her for a bite to eat at a hole-in-the-wall diner where they’d both consumed copious amounts of breakfast foods, of which the place specialized in serving any time of day.
“Comparatively speaking, nothing,” Taylor said, letting them in and entering the code in her security system. “When you look at the type of people that attended the open house tonight, none of them stood out in respect to the others. There were two politicians with their spouses, the weather guy from Channel 6 and his wife—she was the blonde. Next was the lead actress from that new hit Fox TV show with her equally famous actor boyfriend, and a guard from the Wizards basketball team with his wife. If the group Walt and Felicity attended these meetings with was anything like tonight’s rich and famous crowd, I don’t know why the Jarvises, or their kid, would stand out to a kidnapper.”
She tossed her keys on the side table and kicked off her shoes. Matt, ever the gentleman, helped her off with her jacket. She unstrapped her gun holster and placed the weapon next to her keys.
It felt good to have someone take care of her. To feed her, to chauffeur her around. To talk cases and brainstorm ideas about her unsub with. She sighed as he tugged her shirt out of her waistband and ran his hands under it, skimming over her stomach.
“There was no ransom note, no phone call.” He kissed her neck and brushed his thumbs across the undersides of her breasts. “Cementing the idea our perp was going after the baby, but why take it before it was born? Why not wait until Felicity gave birth and then kidnap the child?”
Taylor had already given that some thought. “Too much security around the baby once it’s born. It was their first child, they’d be watching it every moment, and would probably have a nanny with her eyes on the kid as well. Felicity, however, didn’t even have a bodyguard. Snatching her out of a parking lot was a cinch compared to nabbing that baby once it entered the world.”
Matt undid the button of her jeans, grazed her hipbones with this thumbs. “Messy, though, having to dispose of the mother once the baby arrives.”
Maybe it was sick that they could talk about dead mothers and missing children while undressing each other, but Matt had taught her in the past few days that using sex as a way of dealing with the barbarity of her job was better than alcohol. “Messy, but not that difficult, as evidenced by what happened.”
Matt backed her up against the side table, planted his hands on either side of her hips and hit her with his pretty blue-eyed gaze. “You think Dottie is in on it?”
For the first time in her career, she could talk shop with a lover, not only because he was working the same case, but also because he wasn’t turned off by the gruesome details that were part of her everyday life. “Whoever targeted the Senator and Felicity had a golden opportunity to gain all the information they needed through the birthing center’s setup. Those binders, complete with pictures of the parents, as well as their medical histories and personal information, are goldmines.”
“So what’s our next step?”
She traced the line of his jaw. “Mynext step is to go back tomorrow morning and question Dottie in an official manner.”
“What, no Lamaze class?” He grinned. “I was looking forward to coaching your heavy breathing.”
“You don’t start Lamaze until you’re farther along. Like six or seven months.”
“No more Mr. and Mrs. Dillinger, then, huh?”
“We still have tonight,” she teased, although she wasn’t sure why she’d said that. Acting like a married couple for the undercover op was fun, sure, but continuing that act now was silly and dangerous. They weren’t in a serious, long-term relationship.
Were they?
She shook off the thought. No way. Mad Dog Stephens didn’t do long-term relationships. Neither did she.
The nature of their long workdays and inability to share details about their jobs were to blame. Burnout was high, the people they worked with knowing more about them than their own families.
Plus, Matt was a player. She’d done enough digging on him to know his reputation with women preceded him.
And Taylor never let anyone get close to her. Not anymore. Not after Isabel.
Matt kissed her, long and slow, pulling her out of her tangled thoughts, and she melted a little. He could be rough and aggressive with her or soft and careful. Like he could read her mind and knew exactly what she needed at any moment.
“I think I could get used to coming home to this every night,” he murmured against her lips.
A little thrill ran through her, and she automatically squashed it.
But that didn’t feel right either. She liked having Matt in her bed, eating meals with him, having someone to talk to. She’d never dreamed they’d still be together after that one-night stand at the conference, much less working on the same case as partners. But here they were, and damn if they weren’t good together. Who knew what other craziness they could share?
“I kinda like it, too,” she admitted, threading her fingers through his hair.
He drew his face back a few inches. “But?”
She started to say, “but we both suck at relationships” and a dozen other pat excuses that formed on her tongue. Instead, she just smiled at him. “No ‘but’. If you want to keep this arrangement going for awhile and see where it leads, I’m game.”
