Murder in the Clear Zone Read online

  “She convinced Les,” Bard said, glancing at Paula. And me.

  Fluorescent lighting sent golden highlights to Paula’s bright copper hair. She rubbed her arms, looking vulnerable. Guilt tore through him. How could he have doubted her? Even for a moment?

  Reed pulled a cigar out of his shirt pocket then shoved it back. He stood and faced the window. His wide back was erect, and he squared his shoulders. Then he turned. “Ms. Lord, Mark said your wire picked up Les’s confession. Sometime tomorrow, I need you to sign a statement.”

  ****

  Paula nodded, fighting tremors. Would Les make good his threat? She’d tricked him, humiliated him in front of his men, unforgivable acts to any man, but especially to an egomaniac killer.

  Reed crossed the room and slouched back into his chair. “Lopez wants to lay it all out for us for a lighter sentence. According to him, Leroy Damas was the mole. Gordon should’ve known he was getting the wrong scoop.”

  A muscle tightened in Bard’s jaw. “Damas must’ve convinced him it wouldn’t be politically smart to go over his head.”

  Regret crossed Reed’s face, giving his features a haggard look. “Damas signed his death warrant when he decided to deal with that bunch. If only he’d come to me, I could have arranged for a loan to cover his wife’s care. I didn’t know until he was killed that Mary had cancer.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” Bard asked.

  Paula studied Bard’s intense expression. His genuine concern touched her.

  “She’s recovering,” Reed said. “The stress of losing her husband and learning he was in with crooks has made the road harder, but she’s a fighter. On the plus side, money’s no problem now. There’s a big insurance policy.”

  Paula closed her eyes briefly, knowing first hand nothing could compensate Mary Damas for her loss.

  Bard frowned as though he had a similar thought. “Lopez killed Damas figuring, if questioned, he’d cave in.”

  Reed drained his coffee and made a sour face. “Damas could have revealed the size of the operation. This wasn’t the only project involved. Les and his men looted the Chino Airport project, too.”

  “Well, it’s over,” Bard said. “And we caught the king shark and his whole school of piranha.”

  The lines on Reed’s face deepened, and he looked down. His failure to confirm Bard’s statement told Paula another project probably meant all the gang wasn’t at the Wooton’s place.

  “Unorthodox capture aside,” Reed said, “you did a courageous job. Both of you.” He tilted his head and leveled his gaze at Bard. “How would you like to work undercover for The Corps permanently?”

  “No way! It’s not the life for me. I only did this for Charlie.”

  Paula didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until Bard’s refusal sent a sigh of relief whispering across her lips.

  “Maybe staying with the county is the wiser decision,” Reed said. “I heard through the grapevine that Gordon’s on his way out for mishandling the project. You’re the top choice to take his place. I’ll add my bid to the recommendation.”

  “Thanks. However, don’t count Gordon out, yet. Guys like him are survivors.”

  “A pity, isn’t it?” Reed studied his hands a moment, then he looked up, his gray eyes steady. “I heard about Les’s threat. We’d better relocate Paula until after the trial.”

  “But Les’ll be in jail,” Paula said as a chill slithered through her.

  “And he’s not getting out,” Reed said. “He’s killed a lot of people and messed with a federal project.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Paula asked not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  Reed’s face took on a gray cast. “Gang leaders have long arms that strike out beyond their jail cell.”

  ****

  Paula paid Jeff for birdsitting while Bard paced the room. He’d been friendly enough with Jeff, but now he seemed anxious for him to leave. She knew Bard wanted to talk about Les. Well, she didn’t.

  Jeff had been watching television, and there was only one lamp on, dimmed to the lowest setting. That was enough light, she decided, rubbing her aching head. She flicked off the blaring news and turned on her CD player, loaded with the kind of soft piano music she yearned for to soothe her raw nerves.

  Paula headed for Ivanhoe’s cage. She needed to be near her parrot. He was her lifeline back to reality. Iv’s soft, feathered body was warm and familiar but holding him didn’t erase the image of Les’s meancing eyes. She sank down on the couch, terrified, and hating herself for letting fear get a grip on her.

  The parrot nodded his head toward her, stooped slightly and brushed his head against her hand. She got the hint and stroked him, but her mind wasn’t on Ivanhoe. It was ridiculous that Reed and Bard wanted her to hide until after the trial. Then what? If Les could get her from jail before the trial, he could do the same afterwards. She’d need a lifetime bodyguard to protect her.

  Why couldn’t Bard see that? In one way or another since the first moment she’d met him he’d been trying to get rid of her, first out of the clear zone, now out of her new home, maybe even out of his life. In her eagerness to save him, had she lost his love?

  ****

  Bard dropped heavily down on the couch next to Paula. “Reed’s right. We can’t take chances. You have to disappear for a while.”

  “Forget it. I’m not going anywhere! This is my home, and I won’t be run off.”

  “You’re not thinking straight. You know what Les is capable of.”

  “Maybe the problem is you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

  Bard laughed without humor. “Oh, I know all right. I saw you in action.” He felt raw and empty inside. Everything had shifted several times tonight. Les became Janus and Paula turned into this femme fatale. “I knew you were acting, but geez, you were so damn convincing. How did you become that woman? At first, I was angry that you’d recklessly put yourself in danger. Then you were so…so…believable. How did you keep your nerve all that time?”

  “I had no choice.” Her voice had a slight tremor in it, as if she hadn’t quite let go of her fear. “I had to give Ray and Henry time to detach the air-conditioner, get down into the attic, then into the closet before I made my move. Timing was everything.”

  Bard curled his fingers into fists to rein in the storm building in him. “Why didn’t you trust me? We were supposed to be a team.”

  “This wasn’t about my faith in you. It was about my lack of trust in the lousy system that let Charlie down. And let you down, too, for that matter.”

  The steam went out of Bard’s anger as fast as it came. “Look, Paula—”

  “When I set things up with Ray I didn’t know about your backup,” she interrupted, her tone sharp. “I’m not sure it would have made any difference if I had.” She paused. “And you didn’t bother to tell me about the SWAT team.”

  “I thought the less you knew the better.”

  “Ditto for me. My act might not have worked if you’d known for sure what I was up to.” She frowned. “What’s the point of this discussion? We’re alive. It’s over.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Paula put Ivanhoe back into the cage, praying she was right about the rein of terror being over. She went to the window and stared out at the moon, wishing it could shine light on her doubts and fears, and show her how foolish they were. The moon slipped behind a cloud, and her mood darkened almost in unison with the loss of brightness. Instead of seeing moonlight, she saw Les’ sneering mouth. His words echoed in her mind: “You’re dead, bitch.”

  Bard crossed the carpet so silently Paula wasn’t aware of him closing in. She jumped as his breath stirred her hair.

  “Nervous?” Bard asked, his heat radiating against her back.

  “I’m fine.” She lied. Then her jumpiness passed, and she tried to distance herself from the rising desire filling its place. “That guy…Mark, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t have made it in time to save you,” she said sof
tly.

  “I know.”

  ****

  Bard put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him, wanting to see her face. He lifted her hand and pressed it slowly to his lips. Her eyes were so blue, gleaming with what he speculated were vestiges of fear mingled with need.

  He drew Paula into his arms. Paula’s trembling caught him off guard. He’d seen her in action, seen how she’d attacked life, and Les, with both clenched fists. She was made of such stern stuff he’d failed to realize how frightened she must have been. And still must be.

  “I can’t run, Bard.” She clutched his arm and looked up at him. “Running doesn’t solve anything.” Her voice was throaty and tinged with fear. “If Les doesn’t get me now, he’ll do it later.”

  Bard bent and kissed her temple. “I guess there’s only one way to see that you disappear until the trial.” He traced the line of her cheekbone across skin so silky he yearned to touch her everywhere.

  She tried to pull free. “Aren’t you listening? I’m not going.”

  “Even if I go with you?” He couldn’t stop the grin that played at his lips. He drew her closer and slid his hand down her spine, stroking with all the love he could put in his fingers.

  She wrinkled her brow. “You’d go with me?”

  “You didn’t think I’d send you on our honeymoon to South America alone?”

  ****

  “Honeymoon? South America?” Paula’s heart pounded. Bard’s words, his lighthearted expression, and his stroking fingers were easing her fears.

  “Buenos Aires has the exotic birds you’ve been wanting. Right? We’ll be gone a couple of months.”

  Oh, mercy, she wanted this so much. “But I can’t leave Ivanhoe and the others.”

  “Jeff will handle things here while we’re gone. You’ll be safe until the trial. After that, you’ll be in my protective custody. For life.”

  It sounded wonderful. Here she’d thought he was chasing her out of his life. But marriage? Thoughts whirled in her head. She loved Bard. She was ready to die for him. The notion of a second try at holy bliss sent shivers through her. Old tapes started replaying. Men were predators, cheaters. They were unreliable and didn’t hang around for the distance.

  She closed her eyes a moment. No! She wouldn’t let the past rule her. Bard was a good man, the kind of man she’d always dreamed of growing old with. If only she dared.

  His hold tightened. “What about it, Paula? Don’t go silent on me now.”

  “I’m thinking. I’m thinking. I didn’t expect….” Emotion welled within her, and not wanting him to see her tears, she turned in his arms and looked out the window. Bard’s arms remained around her. His warm breath against her hair was setting her on fire. She had to use her head and not let her body rule. He was caressing the curve of her waistline inches from her breasts, his hands hot on her bare midriff. Her skin sizzled from his touch, and she thought she’d die of desire. In opposition to the soft piano playing in the background, her pulse beat wildly. She pulled back, face hot. “Wait a minute,” she said, her voice husky and filled with longing. “I can’t think while you’re doing that.”

  He stilled but didn’t release her. He turned her to face him again. “You love me, right?”

  As if her hands had a will of their own, they roamed up his hard chest. When she found his heart beating wildly, her arms circled his neck. “Oh, yes. So much, but….”

  Suddenly bright moonlight burst through the clouds. Its glow enveloped them and united them with promise. For a moment, Paula thought she saw Charlie’s face in the moon, smiling, nodding, daring her to follow her heart.

  “Trust me, Paula,” Bard said, “I’ll never let you down.” Paula slowly turned and faced him.

  ****

  Bard watched her eyes and knew she’d made a decision. The uncertainty and fear disappeared, and she smiled a beautiful, radiant smile. “Africa is a lovely place for a honeymoon,” she said.

  Emotion swelled in Bard, sending a surge of happiness through him, stronger than any he’d ever known. “I love you, Paula, more than I ever thought it possible to love a woman, and I want only you for the rest of my life. He sought Paula’s lips, tenderly at first, then when she responded so hungrily, his own need grew and he swept her off her feet and carried her toward the bedroom. He flicked on the hallway light, splashing a soft glow toward his destination.

  Paula wasn’t trembling anymore. A mischievous small smile played at her lips. “Aren’t you even a little curious?” she asked as he gently lowered her to the bed.

  He kicked off his shoes, and slipped off her sandals, caressing the arch of her foot, her ankle, following the line of her leg to her thigh. “About what?” he asked in a voice that rumbled in his throat.

  She pulled him down next to her and began unbuttoning his shirt. “You know….” She trailed kisses down the column of his neck. Her lips reminded him of fire and ice. She paused and held her hand against his chest where his heart was beating with unruly intensity. “About how that other wilder me would make love?”

  His jeans tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted huskily.

  “Thought you would be.” Her tongue flicked across his abdomen, sending flames of fire raging through him. Paula crossed the bed on her knees, meeting him in the center. “I’m not through with you,” she said huskily, “not by a long shot.” Paula’s hands, her mouth explored him.

  His breath caught, his delight so great he ached to return the pleasure. When he couldn’t stand a second longer without exploding, he rolled and captured her beneath him, hands above her head. The mattress shifted to accommodate their bodies. Their legs twined together. He took a deep fortifying breath and forced himself to slow down. Two could play the teasing game.

  She opened her mouth beneath his, imploring his tongue to enter. He tensed then plundered her sweetness. Heat seared through him, fusing their bodies. Every contour of his body ached for her, silently called out to her.

  He traced her silky, dewy body with his fingers, his mouth. Her sweet, salty taste and the musky scent of her bare skin multiplied the hot currents racing through him. The feel of the soft mounds of her breasts pressing against his chest tested his control. He buried his fingers in her hair. “Paula,” he murmured. He slid the peasant blouse from her shoulders. Paula surprised him by undoing her bra and tossing it over her shoulder. When she threw her head back, he claimed one breast then the other with a hungry, devouring mouth, loving the silkiness, the taste.

  He wanted to linger there, but she had other ideas. With a little shimmy and a yank, she removed her Daisy Dukes and let them fly. Bard paused to look at her and then sent his jeans in the same general direction. They tugged at one another’s underpants, flinging fabric crazily. Then all movement stopped and they just looked at each other. She was more beautiful than Venus or any cover model…and she was real…and his. “Paula, oh, Paula,” he moaned.

  ****

  Paula felt his breath on her lips. She shivered. The possessive way he said her name heightened her desire, her impatience. He kissed her neck, sending prickly shivers down to her toes. He brushed her lips with his. “Since that night in the shower, I’ve dreamed of this.” His lips closed over hers, demanding, insistent. She arched her body to meet his, yearning for more of him. Her blood turned to liquid fire. Dear God, how she wanted him.

  As her need soared his massaging fingers weren’t enough. She wrapped her legs around him, wanting to feel this man she loved inside her. He let out a groan and whispered against her lips. “This is for keeps, you know.”

  At the husky rumble of his voice, Paula trailed her hand from Bard’s shoulder to the back of his neck. Her fingers threaded through hair that curled at the base of his neck. She drew him closer and arched against him. He centered himself and entered her. At his deep thrust, Paula’s breath caught. When his hot, moist shaft filled her, she moved in the age-old rhythm, meeting each of his thrusts. “Deeper, faster,” she cried. Her energy centered on their undulatin
g bodies, the heat, the intensity of feeling. She writhed wildly, seeking release, arching her body. “Don’t stop! Then her world exploded into an electrical shower of joy, and she took Bard with her as she plummeted over the brink.

  Paula let out a high-pitched cry then a sigh of release, sensing her own passion-filled cries added to Bard’s pleasure.

  Coming down, she smiled. Tears of joy dampened her lashes. Their lovemaking deeply fulfilled her, but what touched her beyond the great sex and the loving heartfelt commitment they shared, was the anticipation of the real, honest-to-goodness family they would make together. The yearned for family she’d never had.

  Bard’s breathing slowed from rapid to even. He lifted himself from her, and drew her into the bend of his powerful arms and they lingered in the afterglow, spent and contented. “I love you, Paula Lord,” he murmured against her ear.

  She nestled her head into the curve of his neck and smiled. “That’s perfect, because you’ve had my heart for a long time.” She forced the words past the emotion constricting her throat. “With you,” she whispered, “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  The End

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