Make Me Melt (8 page)

“Because he wanted to keep that ugliness out of your life,” he said, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. “You were so young and so damned sweet. I’m still surprised that he even let me into his house, considering what he knew of me.”

“Because he has a unique ability to see the true character of people,” she said, rubbing her finger over his lower lip. “He knew that you were a good person. Just like I knew.”

Her words grabbed hold of something in his chest and squeezed hard, making it difficult for him to breathe.

She’s not yours to keep.
He told himself again that this was only temporary, and he’d do better if he remembered that. Caroline Banks would never commit herself to a guy like him, at least not permanently. But it was difficult to think straight when she pressed her mouth against his and kissed him slowly and languorously. Her lips were soft, and she tasted faintly of toothpaste. For just a moment, Jason resisted. But his body had other ideas, and before he could prevent himself, he slid his hands into her hair and tilted her face, fitting his mouth over hers. He pushed her back against the table before cupping her rear in his hands and lifting her onto the surface, heedless of the papers that went scattering.

He swallowed Caroline’s surprised gurgle of laughter and situated himself between her thighs, pressing forward until she couldn’t help but feel his growing arousal. Her laughter died, and she deepened the kiss, clutching him with a new intensity. Jason knew they couldn’t do this now.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, smoothing his thumb along the clean line of her jaw. “We should probably head back to San Francisco.”

Caroline nodded and rolled her lips inward, as if she could still taste him. “Okay. Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’ll make us something to eat while you shower,” he offered and lifted her from the table.

“Someday,” Caroline stated, glancing at Eddie’s file, “you’ll tell me about your past and how you got those scars.”

Jason tried to keep his tone light. “Don’t count on it.”

Leaning up, she kissed him briefly. “Oh, but I will. You won’t stand a chance.”

After she left, Jason sighed, knowing she was right. He didn’t stand a chance. While he might want two uninterrupted weeks with her in the bedroom upstairs, now wasn’t the time. But he promised himself that when this was all over, and if Caroline was still interested in him, they’d find a quiet place to hole up and get to know each other better. He just hoped when they did, she wouldn’t be disappointed with what she discovered.

8

C
AROLINE
SAT
NEAR
her father’s bed and watched his chest rise and fall. The only sounds in the room were the rhythmic whir of the ventilator as it pumped air into his chest and the steady beep of the heart monitor, reassuring her that he was still alive. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, willing him not to die. She only knew that she couldn’t lose him.

After a moment, Caroline dropped her head into her hands. Why hadn’t she visited him when she’d had the chance? Why had she stubbornly insisted on remaining so far away for so long? Her reasons now seemed so ridiculous and unimportant.

Let him live, and I’ll come home. I’ll be a better daughter. I’ll make sure he knows how much I love him.

Raising her head, Caroline swiped at her damp cheeks and dragged in a deep breath. Then, setting her shoulders, she pushed herself to her feet and crossed the room to where Jason had left the box of case files on a small table in the corner. She needed to do something to stay occupied, and when she’d suggested to Jason that she could review her father’s case files, he’d been more than happy to let her do that. He’d seemed to understand her need to be useful.

Sitting by her father’s bedside gave her too much opportunity to think, and she didn’t want to overanalyze whatever it was that she and Jason shared.

Despite the fact they’d been as intimate as two people could possibly be, and even though he’d been incredible in bed, ensuring she reached her pleasure before he found his own, he remained emotionally detached. She hadn’t expected a declaration of love, but she’d thought he might have given her some indication of how he felt. But he’d been distant and preoccupied on the ride back to San Francisco. Still, she hadn’t been too concerned until he’d told her that he wouldn’t be staying with her at the hospital that day. Instead, he’d turned his protection detail over to Deputy Black and had left. He hadn’t even given her the courtesy of an explanation or an idea of when he would return.

If Deputy Black knew where Jason was going, he didn’t tell Caroline. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with her, if perhaps he’d needed some time to himself. They hadn’t spoken about the previous night, although it consumed all her thoughts.

After he had returned to bed, they’d taken their time exploring each other. He had known just how to touch her, so that before long she was squirming in his arms, desperate for release. They didn’t have a second condom, so he’d used his fingers and mouth to torment her and finally bring her to completion. After that, he’d let her reciprocate, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen anything as erotic and thrilling as Jason Cooper losing control.

But in the morning, his law enforcement persona was firmly back in place, and he was all business. She thought about the file she had seen on the kitchen table for a career criminal named Eddie Green. She only vaguely recalled hearing stories about him when she was a teenager and wished now that she had paid closer attention. What she did know was that her father had sentenced Eddie Green’s brother to death, and Eddie had promised retribution unless his brother was released. That made him a top suspect in Caroline’s eyes.

She quickly examined the folders in the box and then scanned through them a second time. To her dismay, the file for Eddie Green was missing. Had Jason taken it with him? Did he believe that this man was somehow involved in her father’s shooting?

And then she knew.

Jason had gone to see Eddie Green. The file had listed his address as Hunters Point, which was also where Jason had grown up. Caroline wondered if they had known each other, and recalled how Jason had deliberately shut her down when she’d asked that very question. Had their paths crossed when they had both lived in Hunters Point? It would make sense that Jason might have fallen in with Eddie as a kid, which had led to him getting into trouble.

Curious, Caroline went in search of Deputy Black and found him standing outside in the corridor, speaking into his earpiece. When he saw Caroline, he turned away from her and lowered his voice, then abruptly ended the conversation. When he turned around again, she could see the concern on his face.

“Everything okay, ma’am?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Is it?”

He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to decipher the meaning behind her words, before drawing her a little away from the door and the guard who sat outside.

“What is it?”

“Did Jason go to Hunters Point?”

His voice grew cautious. “Why would you think that?”

Caroline gave him a tolerant look. “Because he took the file on Eddie Green. I know that this guy had a thing against my father for putting some of his gang members—including his own brother—on death row, and that his last known address was Hunters Point. Is that where Jason went?”

Deputy Black’s lips compressed into a thin line, and he considered her for a long moment before he spoke. “Jason knows that area well, and he knows what he’s doing. He’s a U.S. marshal.”

“Has he even been back there since he was a kid?” Caroline demanded. “Well, has he? That place hasn’t gotten any better over the years, Deputy. At least tell me that he brought backup.”

Deputy Black nodded tersely. “We have support from the local P.D., and there are undercover guys tailing him. He’ll be fine.”

Caroline wasn’t convinced, but knew she had little choice but to accept what he said. He was right; she needed to trust that Jason knew what he was doing. He might be the youngest U.S. marshal in California, but he’d been in law enforcement for over ten years. He hadn’t been appointed to his position because he was afraid to take on guys like Eddie Green. He’d gotten the job because on some level, he understood men like Eddie Green. And maybe, deep down, he was even a little bit like them.

“Okay,” she finally said, turning back to her father’s room. “But let me know the second he returns.”

Without waiting for a response, she closed the door quietly and returned to the small table where she had been working. She knew Jason wanted to evaluate every possible suspect, and she could help him with that. After sitting down, she pulled the first file from the box. She’d go through every case her father had been involved in and make her own assessments about whether or not the claimants might have had reason to hurt him. She glanced over at William, who lay unresponsive in his bed, surrounded by the sounds of the medical equipment that helped to keep him alive. Straightening her spine, she opened the first folder.

* * *

H
UNTERS
P
OINT
HADN
’
T
changed since Jason had been a teenager. Now, driving through the streets and seeing the evidence of poverty and neglect, he knew why he had never been back. There was nothing for him here. As he turned down several side streets and saw groups of inner-city youths on the street corners and congregated on the front steps of the tenement buildings, he thought that could easily have been him. That
had
been him, some twenty years earlier. He’d preferred to hang out with the older boys in the neighborhood than go to school. At least until his father had gotten a call from the principal about his absences.

Jason absently fingered the scar on his cheekbone, where his father’s ring had caught the skin and laid it open. The old man had always had a hell of a backhand. The kids watched as he drove past, and Jason knew they were looking at the distinctive U.S. Marshals insignia on the doors of the silver SUV and were taking bets on who he was after. Jason wondered how many of the youths were actually undercover police officers, trying to infiltrate the narcotics ring that purportedly operated out of the Point.

Glancing at the computer screen of the dash-mounted laptop, where he’d keyed in the last known address of Eddie Green, he turned down another side street, this one lined with what looked like abandoned warehouses. Furtive movement in the alleyways between the buildings told him he was being watched, probably by Green’s men. He also knew that Eddie and his gang members had been under surveillance by federal law enforcement for some time, and that he was likely being observed by undercover agents. Nevertheless, he had his service revolver in his shoulder holster and another in the back of his waistband, concealed by his sports coat. He had no illusions that he’d be allowed to keep either once he found Eddie.

Parking the SUV in front of a derelict building, he stepped out and then tipped his head back to look up toward the roof. The windows on the lower floors were boarded up, but the top floor windows were intact and even appeared to be recently installed. He definitely had the right address.

“Yo, mister, whatchya doing here? You lost?”

Jason turned to see a group of boys and young men standing near the rear of the car. There were six of them, ranging in age from about fourteen to mid-twenties. He braced his hands on his hips, pushing his jacket back just enough for them to see his badge and his gun.

“I’m here to see an old friend,” he replied. “Maybe you know him? Eddie Green.”

He saw the oldest man’s eyes flick upward to the top floor of the building, and Jason knew he’d been right—Green lived in this building. Jason also noted how three of the other youths kept one hand loosely behind their backs, which meant they were carrying weapons in the backs of their pants. After closer inspection, he realized that two of the young men wore surveillance earpieces similar to what he wore when he was on duty. Eddie already knew he was here. The message was clear, and Jason knew they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if the ringleader decided he was a threat. Several members of their gang were already on death row for murdering a police officer. No doubt they each considered it a badge of honor, and Jason felt a little ill at the thought that he had once been like these derelicts.

“You sure about that?” the first man asked. “Last time I checked, Eddie wasn’t friends with no cops.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Reaching into his back pocket, he withdrew a slim length of photos, the kind you got from a coin-operated photo booth. The black-and-white pictures were of him and Eddie and another boy, Nick, taken one summer on the boardwalk. “We go way back.”

The man stepped forward and took the photos, glancing suspiciously between the pictures and Jason. Jason didn’t miss how his eyes widened when he recognized the younger version of Eddie, with hair and without his signature tattoos. His eyes narrowed as he continued examining the young boy in the photo, after a while finally acknowledging it was Jason.

He looked at his companions and gave them a curt nod. “Yo, my man, watch the car. Don’t let nothing happen to it.” Turning to Jason, he swaggered forward and handed him the photos. “Follow me.”

Jason studied him for a moment and then nodded, indicating the other man should precede him. He didn’t doubt his own abilities to protect himself, but he didn’t like the thought of anyone sneaking up behind him. Now he followed the man through an alleyway to a reinforced steel door. Inside, the building appeared as empty and dilapidated as the exterior would lead you to believe, but the freight elevator was in good working condition.

“Just take it to the top, man.”

Jason stepped into the elevator and closed the steel grate, never taking his eye off the other man, until the elevator slid smoothly upward and the guy disappeared from sight. On the top floor, Jason opened the doors and found himself in a hallway that was garishly lit. There was only one door visible, and he could see that it was partially open.

As he walked slowly toward the door, he saw the shadows of several figures at the end of the corridor and knew that Eddie’s henchmen were standing around the corner, just out of sight. He kept his hands carefully away from his own weapon and toed the door open wide enough to look inside.

“Hey, man,” a voice called from inside the apartment. “C’mon in—it’s all good.”

Jason stepped inside. Two enormous men immediately converged on him and quickly patted him down. Having expected this, Jason didn’t protest; he waited while they confiscated his two weapons and his badge. He was in a spacious loft apartment. The walls were exposed brick and beams, and the living area was richly decorated with leather furnishings and high-end stereo and electronics. However, Jason wasn’t fooled by the fancy window dressing—he knew Eddie to be a hardened criminal, and everything he owned was the result of those crimes. He might like to surround himself with expensive things, but it didn’t change who—or what—he was.

A state-of-the-art kitchen occupied one end of the apartment, and a man stood behind the counter, preparing what looked like breakfast. The two henchmen brought his guns and his badge over to the kitchen and dropped them onto the granite island. Eddie studied the badge for a moment and then gave a curt jerk of his chin toward the door. The men left, pushing past Jason without a word. He knew they would stand just outside the door, ready to intervene if Eddie gave them any indication.

Now he stood with his finger on the button of a blender, watching Jason. He wore a white sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of baggy workout pants. Tattoos covered his head, neck, shoulders and arms. Several gold chains hung around his neck, and two chunky rings flashed on his right hand.

For an instant, Jason could actually feel his own tattoos burning into his skin. His grandmother had been so disappointed when she’d first seen them, Jason had felt some remorse. But back then, impressing Eddie had been more important than making his grandmother proud of him.

“Nice place you have here,” Jason commented, glancing around the apartment.

“Yeah, thanks.” Eddie shrugged. “The rent is cheap, and I kinda like the neighborhood.” He paused. “So what brings a U.S. marshal out here? Alone?” He gestured around him with one hand. “This place has been searched at least a dozen times in the last year, and it’s clean. You won’t find anything illegal here, Marshal. I’m an upstanding citizen of San Francisco.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” Jason drawled. Walking over to where Eddie stood, he withdrew a photo of Judge Banks and tossed it onto the counter. “I don’t suppose you recognize this man?”