Kat Martin - Against the Night

This early in the afternoon, the club was mostly empty. It got busier as the sun went down. The Sunset Strip came alive at night.

Johnnie stood up as she approached and she felt a little dizzy at the sight of all that masculinity so nicely packaged in black jeans and a T-shirt.

Johnnie grinned. “Hey, Goldilocks.”

She had almost forgotten her hair, forgotten that too much gel had turned her long, sleek strands into a riot of curls. She reached up and touched it, made a face at the springy texture.

“It’ll wash out,” she said glumly.

“I thought maybe you were going to change your act, bring in a couple of guys in bear suits.”

“Very funny.” She managed to climb up on a bar stool, though being so short, it wasn’t easy. Johnny sat back down on the stool next to hers.

“How you feeling?”

“Normal again. Better than I should be feeling…considering.” She looked across at Dante, who mopped the top of the bar in front of her with a clean white towel. “I could really use a Diet Coke…if you wouldn’t mind.”

“You got it, Angel.” The handsome Latino grinned, then turned to Johnnie. “You wanna beer or something?”

“No thanks, I’m working.”

Amy sighed. “So was I. That’s what happened to my hair.”

Johnnie reached out and slid a hand into her bouncy blond locks. “This, I gotta hear.”

But Amy didn’t reply. Transfixed by the feel of his fingers slipping through the heavy curls, she just sat there like a cat being stroked and wanting to purr. She felt his eyes on her, intense now, sensing her interest, the heat beginning to build between them. She wanted this man. Maybe it was time to do something about it. Maybe she should—

Dante set an icy glass of diet soda in front of her and walked away, and Johnnie’s hand slid free of her hair.

Amy swallowed. “I…ummm…went to see Rachael’s hairdresser. I wanted to see if maybe she’d heard some gossip or something that might help us. Getting my hair done was the only excuse I could think of to talk to her. The curls were her idea.”

Johnnie chuckled. “Do any good?”

“Sherry—that’s the stylist—said that Rachael was seeing a couple of different guys. One of them was named Ken. I figured Kenny Reason. The other man’s name was Danny.”

“Danny. No reference to a Danny in the police reports.”

“You saw them?”

He nodded. “My sister, Katie, was a cop before she died. Her former partner is a friend of mine.”

“You have…had a sister?”

He nodded. “She was killed during a bank robbery. She was a really great kid.”

She reached over and caught his hand. “Oh, Johnnie, I’m so sorry.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and a little tremor went through her.

“Katie always wanted to be a cop,” he said. “She was doing the job she loved, but she was way too young to die. She deserved to have more time.”

She let go of his hand, though she didn’t really want to. “Your sister is gone and now so is mine. It isn’t fair.”

“There’s still hope we’ll find Rachael.”

She took heart at that, managed to smile. “Yes, there is.”

“Because of what happened to Katie, I get to call in a favor now and then. I got a look at Rachael’s file and I talked to Lieutenant Meeks. She pretty much hates you, by the way.”

Amy laughed. “I know I’ve been a nuisance. I figured the squeaky wheel and all that.”

“Doesn’t always work.”

She took a sip of Diet Coke. “So what did Lieutenant Meeks tell you?”

“Not much. Mentioned a real estate agent named Peter Brand, but according to the report, he came up clean.”

“Nothing else?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’m not exactly on the lieutenant’s favorite persons list, either.” At her inquisitive look, he held up a hand. “Don’t ask.”

Amy smiled. “You mean she didn’t fall prey to all that Johnnie Riggs charm?”

He flashed a crooked grin. “You think I’m charming?”

“Maybe. I think you can be very sweet at times, even if you won’t admit it.”

“Sweet! You think I’m sweet?”

She laughed. “You were sweet last night. You came to my rescue. You took care of me when I was sick. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have been in serious trouble.”

“I’m not sweet. How do you know I didn’t ravish you when you were at my mercy?”

Her smile returned. “I don’t think that’s your style.”

Johnnie reached out and touched her cheek, just a featherlight brush of his fingers, yet goose bumps rose beneath her skin.

“You’re right,” he said. “I want you wide-awake when I take you. I want you to know exactly what I’m doing to you.”

Amy couldn’t breathe.

He reached up and playfully tugged on one of her curls. “In the meantime, no more detective work, okay?”

The curls bobbed as she firmly shook her head. “I’m not quitting. No way, no how.”

Hearing his own words played back to him, Johnnie smiled.

“In the past two days,” Amy continued, “I’ve found out more than I have in the past two weeks. I need to talk to Kenny Reason, and I need to find out who this Danny person is.”

“I’ll talk to Reason, see what he has to say.”

“I want to go with you. He might say something that clicks with me, or I might think of something to ask him you wouldn’t.”

When he started shaking his head, she caught his arm. “You said Rembrandt’s was a nightclub, an upscale place. If I’m with you, I won’t be in any danger.”

“I don’t like it, Am—Angel.”

“You said you’d help me.”

“I’m doing my damnedest, honey.”

“Please, Johnnie. I’ve got to do this. I owe it to Rachael.” She looked up at him, trying to work her womanly wiles the way the other girls did. “Please…”

He sat there for several long moments, then gave up a sigh of defeat. “All right, damn it, you can go. But we need to keep moving on this. Can you get off early tonight?”

One of the girls had called in sick, so she was working a split shift. “I’m off at ten.” She had to be back by midnight, but she didn’t want him to have an excuse not to take her.

“All right, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to Rembrandt’s. Until then, try to stay out of trouble.”

The afternoon was slipping away. Johnnie had a half dozen calls to make on cases he’d been working and paperwork to do back at his home office. Instead he sat next to Amy at the Kitty Cat bar.

“Listen, I need to talk to Honeybee. You know where I can find her?” He told himself he was still working, even if he wasn’t getting paid for it.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.