The Eyes Die Last (26 page)

“I thought cops were trained to observe details.” 

She ignored the dig.  “What have you been doing, Campenelli, hiding?  Spying on me?” 

“No, I haven’t been hiding or spying on anyone.
  Perhaps you’re the one who’s
been spying.  That sounds more like the style of Metro PD.” 

She’d drifted to where her feet touched bottom, and balanced on the river’s rocky floor.  Kennedy blew out a breath.  “If I wanted to spy on you, you sure as hell wouldn’t see me.  I’ve been here since eleven this morning.”  He must have shown up while I took my short nap...  well maybe it was a long nap.  It doesn’t matter.  Now I’m starting to sound like an idiot.  “Not that it matters what time I arrived.  All you need to know is it’s time for you to pack it in and leave.  I don’t need my murder case’s number one suspect camped out next to me.  Hit the road, Slick.” 

“Number one suspect?  You’re crazy, Detective.  I’m not a killer.” 

“I’m not crazy.  And now that that’s settled...  you can leave.” 

“There is no way in hell I’m leaving this campground until I get the day and a half of rest I came for.”  He cocked his head to one side.  “There isn’t much you can do about it either, as you’re not the law here.  And even if you were, I don’t see your badge anywhere.” 

Nick’s eyes went all dark and sexy and her pulse accelerated.  Even if she hadn’t been watching him, she would have sensed the heat.  Her mouth went dry and it felt like her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. 

“As a matter of fact, Detective, I don’t see anything you could even pin that shiny gold shield of yours on.” 

Kennedy looked down and felt a blush creep over her face.  Naked.  Damn, she’d forgotten.  She wrapped her arms around her breasts and dipped low into the water, her chin staying just above the surface.  “You’re an ass, Campenelli.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “If you don’t quit looking at me like that, I’m going to get my gun and blow your dic...  ah...  your manhood off.” 

“Exactly what way am I looking at you, Detective?”  He smiled and waggled his eyebrows at her.  “Your Irish lilt grows even sexier when your temper rises.” 

Kennedy wanted to smack that grin off his face.  Instead, she closed her eyes and counted to ten.  She opened them.  “You’re still here?  This has got to be a nightmare.”  He couldn’t possibly still be here.  “There are thousands of other places you could go to rest in Vegas.  Why’d you have to pick my place?” 

“I’ve been coming here since I was a boy.  I find it very peaceful.  Especially this time of year when the heat drives most sane people away.  You leave.  Maybe go find one of those thousands of other restful places Vegas has to offer.” 

She shook her head.  “I’ve got dibs on this place.” 

“You can’t claim a river or its campground.” 

“My grandpa started bringing me out here when I was barely five years old.  I plan to fish and sleep under the stars.  Without you hanging around.” 

“Your plans have just changed because I’m not going anywhere.  But look on the bright side, you won’t have any problem sleeping under the stars tonight.  There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”  He looked up, then back down and his hand scratched at his chin.  “Bad news is, catching fish might be a problem since they’re not biting today.  I didn’t even get a nibble.” 

“You’re not much of a fisherman are you?  I’ve got four on my string.  Eat your heart out, Campenelli.”  Again, she forgot she was naked as a newborn baby for a moment and straightened up. 

“Nice, Detective.  And I’m not talking about your fish.” 

Kennedy gave Nick her best you-dirty-bastard look.  A look that had been known to stop hardened criminals in their tracks.  Nick’s smile widened, deepening the dimples on each side of his mouth.  Talk about a look that could stop someone in their tracks. 

What the hell, he’d seen her already.  She put her hands on her hips.  “
Chri
st
.
Haven’t you ever seen a pair of breasts in your life?” 

“None quite as perfect as the pair I’m looking at right now.” 

“That’s it.  I’m going for my gun.  You wait right here.”  She turned and sloshed through the water, almost to the shore.  And froze.  “How about you turn around while I grab my gun.  Then I’ll come back and blow your balls...  err, I mean your...  umm, your...” 

“My manhood, Detective?” 

She turned and faced him again, sneer shifting into a cunning smile.  “This is really kind of silly isn’t it?  Let’s be adults about this.  You close your eyes while I get out of the river and I won’t shoot you.  How’s that sound?” 

“I have a better idea.  We make a trade.  I close my eyes while you get out of the water and you share your fish with me.  Now that’s a bargain.  Want to deal?” 

“Deal, my ass.  The fish are mine.  I plan on cooking them over a nice open fire until they’re grilled to perfection.  I’ll be sure to think about you while I’m eating them.” 

“I hope you brought a camp stove to cook on.  The park service has banned campfires.  There’s a drought going on in case you haven’t noticed.”  His smile turned mischievous. 

Kennedy knew her face had just gone blank. 

“You left the camp stove at home?  Well, well now.  I guess it’s time for you to learn to share.  I’ve got the stove, you’ve got the fish.  Want to play nice now?” 

“Okay, Campenelli, you win.  I’ll share my fish.  Now close your eyes before I turn into a total prune.  No peeking!” 

“No peeking.” 

Of
course Nick peeked.  How could he not?  Streams of water slid down the smooth, sleek lines of her back.  He watched the flow of water as it embraced her tiny
wai
st
.
When the rounded globes of her ass ascended above the water line, his eyes were drawn to a tiny tattoo on her lower right hip.  He couldn’t quite make out the design.  He’d need a closer look. 

Nick had always considered himself a breast man but, wow, her rear end was fine enough to change his mind.  He held his breath as her mile-long legs came out of the water.  He was rapidly turning into a full body man. 

She interrupted his viewing pleasure.  “You didn’t peek did you, Slick?”  He thought he detected a bit of teasing in her voice.  She picked up her tee shirt and used it to dab at her wet body. 

Nick thought about lying, but why ruin the fun?  “My eyes may have

accidentally opened for just a second, but I didn’t see much, only a flash of tattoo.  Mind sharing what kind of design it is?  I couldn’t quite make it out.” 

He might have convinced himself he hadn’t seen much of her naked body if his dick hadn’t sprung to life at the sight of her.  Quickly, he glanced down to make sure nothing was showing beneath the cover of the glistening water.  A surge of relief shot through him as he realized he was safe.  She wouldn’t be able to see parts of his anatomy making a fool of him. 

“You’ll never know what’s tattooed on my ass.”  “We’ll see about that.” 

“No, you won’t see.  Now it’s your turn to climb out of the water.  I promise not to peek.  My word is as good as yours, I’m sure.” 

Like I’d buy into that line of bullshit.  “Why don’t you go finish dressing?  I think I’m going to swim a little while longer.  The water is great today, don’t you think?  Let’s meet up at my campsite and grill the fish in about twenty or thirty minutes.” 

Nick started swimming for all he was worth.  Surely, his dick would calm down after a good workout. 

Wouldn’t it? 

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

THE PINK-STREAKED BLUE SKY RELUCTANTLY FADED TO DUSK WHILE NICK AND KENNEDY ENJOYED THE GRILLED FISH.
  Kennedy devoured her usual bag of salt and vinegar chips—her own version of fish and chips.  Nick declined her offer to share and ate a bag of raw carrots instead.  Figures.  Mr.  Wonderful eats healthy.  They each drank two longneck bottles of light beer from Nick’s cooler.

From Kennedy’s perspective, the view was pretty damn nice and she wasn’t just talking about the evening sun setting over the water.  While eating, she’d used her finely honed detective skills to study Nick.  The man was gorgeous.  And that body of his—she’d sneaked a peek at his ass as he stepped out of the water earlier— was a walking ad for Buns of Steel.  Talk about iron man.  His thighs were thickly muscled, the view made even more intense by the cascade of water rolling off them.  Broad shoulders and a lean, taut, muscled chest promised strength and solidity before tapering down his flat abdomen, past narrow hips to all other fine destinations below.

Kennedy’s belly fluttered like a school girl’s just thinking about what a woman could do with a body like his.  Campenelli was pure sex on a stick.  Heat shot to all parts female and she quickly lowered her eyes, praying he hadn’t noticed the effect he had on her.  Time to think about something else.  She stretched her legs out, slowly lifted her eyes and broke the silence they’d maintained during dinner.

“That was good.”  Could I possibly sound any dorkier?  Wilder’s right, I have no social skills.  She made a mental note: work on social skills.

He tipped his bottle and drew another long drink of his Shiner Bock beer.  She watched his throat muscles as he swallowed.  He managed to make even that look sexy.  “Hard to beat food cooked over an open flame, even if the open flame came from a camp stove.  I’m glad we made the trade.  I enjoyed your company.”

“Yeah, I’m great company, keeps my social calendar full.”  Kennedy smiled, she could count on one hand the words she’d spoken during dinner.  She eyed the small white bag sitting next to her and picked it up.  The taffy she’d bought at the Grab and Go that morning.

Opening it, she offered the bag to Nick.  “Dessert?”  “Why not?”  He reached in and took a piece of candy.  “Grape taffy is one of my addictions.” 

“Thanks.”  Nick un-wrapped his taffy, inhaled deeply.  “The smell reminds me of you.” 

She had no clue how to respond to that, so she didn’t. 

Nick asked, “How’s your investigation into the prostitute murders going?  Any new leads?” 

“There’s no way in hell I’m going to discuss my case with you.  Even if you weren’t a suspect, I wouldn’t talk about it.”  Taking back her bag of taffy, she grabbed a piece for herself, un-wrapped it and popped it in her mouth.  She spoke while chewing around the gooey wad.  “Get real, Campenelli.” 

“You talked about the case with Ed Hershey.  Your close buddy was bragging to the whole world about the evening you two spent together going over the case.”

Kennedy was confused.  Apparently it showed.  Nick held up his hand and twisted his index and middle fingers around one another.  “According to Ed’s interview, you and he are tight.  You two got a little something going on the side?” 

“What’ve you been smoking, Campenelli?  What interview?  And who I spend an evening with is none of your damn business.” 

“Don’t tell me you missed the interview—it was live on network television.  According to Hershey, he’s your right hand man in the ongoing investigation of the prostitute murders.” 

A fistful of dread gut punched her.  “Oh shit.  What has that little ass wipe done now?  He’s a dead man.  I’ll shoot him in the nuts.  Shit, shit, shit.” 

“The nuts, Detective?  I thought you preferred to call that part of the male anatomy the manhood?” 

“You think this is funny?” 

He shrugged a shoulder.  “So you’re not having a hot and heavy affair with everyone’s favorite news anchor?” 

“You know, Campenelli, it really is none of your business, and it’s not open for discussion.” 

“Has Hershey gotten a close enough look at your tattoo to know what it is?” 

“That is definitely not open for discussion.”  He sounded almost...  jealous?  The idea sent a warm tingle over her skin. 

Nick took another pull of his beer, his face scrunched into a lopsided knot.  “Grape taffy doesn’t go very well with Shiner Bock.” 

“Taffy goes great with everything.” 

He set his bottle aside.  “Just what exactly is a subject we can discuss?” 

“You, Campenelli, we can talk about you.  Tell me about your trips out here when you were young.  Did your dad bring you often?”  Kennedy wasn’t into small talk, but she did want to know the reason Nick was here.  She still wasn’t sure he hadn’t been keeping tabs on her. 

He leaned back against the cooler.  “My Pop didn’t give a rat’s ass about me.  I was usually left on my own until my Uncle Bill came along when I was around nine.  We came here to camp and fish every couple a months for the next three years.  He’d let me bring along my best friend on our campouts.” 

“
St. Louis
?”  She caught his surprised look.  “Don’t look shocked.  Everyone knows you two grew up together and were what?  Like best buds?” 

“Yes, Louis and I were best friends.  We were inseparable in those days.  We had a lot of fun back then.  We quit coming here when Uncle Bill became ill.  He was diagnosed with heart disease and died a short time later.”  She didn’t miss the sadness that shadowed his eyes. 

“I came out a half a dozen times afterward, with Louis, when I learned how to sneak Pop’s car out.  Then Louis moved away and I quit coming.  It just wasn’t the same without Louis or Uncle Bill.  Being here today has brought back a lot of good memories.  I’ve really enjoyed it.  I plan to make a habit of coming here more often.”  Nick unhooked his hands and reached down and lit a lantern, turning it down low.