doing everything he knew to please her, hardly even caring whether or not he got what he needed out of their intimacy. That wasn’t normal. Hell, it wasn’t
It scared the hell out of him.
He pushed away from the door and turned on the shower, cranking up the hot water until steam filled the small bathroom. He grabbed a cloth from the shelf over the toilet and picked up a bar of soap from the sink. The last thing he needed was to use the sea-scented bath gel sitting in the shower caddy; the tangy-sweet smell of her already covered him from head to toe.
He stepped into the tub, wincing as the fiery needles of water peppered his skin. He soaped up, scrubbing his skin as if he could somehow remove the feel of her softness against his flesh. But the mere thought of her lying beneath him, open and willing to take what he offered and give back in return made him hard all over again.
With an angry gesture, he turned off the hot water and cranked up the cold. The icy spray made him gasp, but it eased the ache between his legs enough for him to regain control. He turned off the water and stepped out into the steamy bathroom.
He toweled off and dressed, the humidity plastering his shirt to his damp skin. He escaped into the cooler air of the hallway, stopping to look into Rose’s bedroom.
She lay on her side, the curve of her hips and thighs as smooth and pale as porcelain in the moonlight pouring through the window. He wanted to touch her, to let his fingers follow the curves and planes of her body once more to see if he could discover a part of her he hadn’t yet explored.
He curled his treacherous hands into fists at his sides and forced himself down the hall, out of sight and temptation’s reach. Moving soundlessly, he made his way through the darkened house until he reached the kitchen, where he’d left his laptop. Flicking on the light over the table, he powered up and checked his e-mail. Nothing since the message from Steve.
He shut the laptop and stared at the darkness outside the kitchen window. The clock over the table read 6:45 a.m. but it felt later. A lot had happened in the last day.
Too much.
The trill of his cell phone ripped through the silence in the kitchen, jarring his nerves. He dug in his jacket pocket and thumbed it on. “Hartman.”
“Hartman, this is Sheila Green. Phillips is making noise about lawyering up, but he hasn’t said the magic words yet. We think he might break with the right questions. It’s time to put your voodoo to work. Can you be here in the next ten minutes?”
“Can you make it twenty?” He needed time to get Rose up and in the shower, first.
“I’m not sure we have twenty.”
Daniel ran his hand over his face. He didn’t like the thought of leaving Rose here alone, but if he didn’t head out in the next couple of minutes, he might not get a chance to question Phillips. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten.”
He hurried upstairs to the bedroom. Rose was still asleep, her face soft and peaceful. He hated to wake her, but he needed to make sure she locked up behind him. “Rose?”
She blinked awake, squinting as he turned on the bedside lamp. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to get to police headquarters in ten minutes. I need to try to break Phillips before he asks for his lawyer.”
She rubbed her eyes. “He hasn’t called his lawyer?”
“Some perps like to play head games with the cops awhile before bringing in a mouthpiece. I’d rather take you, but I don’t have time for you to shower and dress.” He grabbed the robe hanging behind her door and handed it to her. “I need you to lock up behind me.”
She shrugged on the robe. “Any idea when you’ll be back?”
Part of him wanted to play it safe and go back to the motel, instead. He pushed the fear aside. Whatever he chose to do about Rose, she still needed his protection. “I’ll call.”
She followed him to the back door, her expression hard to read. He thought he saw confusion and a hint of disappointment, but he didn’t have time to ferret out the rest of the chaos of emotions flickering in her mossy- brown eyes. “Lock up behind me,” he repeated, opening the door.
She gazed up at him. “Drive carefully.”
He kissed her forehead, knowing it was all he could allow himself if he wanted to get to the police station in the next few minutes. And even that simple gesture of affection was enough to reawaken a slow-simmering ache of longing that tormented him with each step he took away from her.
Damn, he was in serious trouble.
ROSE CLOSED HER EYES and raised her face to the shower spray, letting the water wash away the hot tears sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t even have the luxury of anger; after all, Daniel had been pretty clear about things, hadn’t he?
And she’d definitely enjoyed it. The things his hands and mouth had done to her body would stay with her for a long time. Hot water and bath gel did nothing to erase the smell of him, the musky heat of his skin on hers, over her, inside her, driving her insane with need. No complaints there.
But did he really have to run out chasing the case before she’d even stopped trembling from her climax? That was veering dangerously into “slam, bam, thank you, ma’am” territory.
It was her own damned fault. Pretending she was sophisticated enough to handle casual sex with a man obsessed with a dead woman and her killer.
There were a lot of women who were fine with that, and more power to them. She just wasn’t one of them. She wanted sex to be more than a couple of bodies doing what nature intended. She wanted to mean more to Daniel than that.
Obviously, she didn’t.
She finished rinsing shampoo from her hair and shut off the water. The tears were back, leaving hot tracks down her cheeks as she stepped onto the bath mat. She wrapped a towel around herself and stood in front of the sink. In the foggy mirror, her reflection was a blob of light on dark, unrecognizable. She grabbed a hand towel and wiped the condensation from the mirror.
A second later, the towel slipped from her nerveless fingers and puddled in the sink.
The death veil was back.
Chapter Fifteen
“He’s been released?” Daniel stared at Captain Green.
“Five minutes before you got here.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“We did. Kept getting your voice mail.” Sheila Green gave him a pointed look.
Daniel checked his cell phone, horrified to find it off. What if Rose had been trying to call him? He thumbed through the messages and found two from Captain Green but none from Rose. He let himself relax. “Why’d you let him go?”
“He had a solid alibi for last night’s murder, and a plausible one for the Donovan murder. Those were the only two we could remotely connect him to, so we had to cut him loose.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t kill the other two.”
“It doesn’t mean he did, either.”
Daniel sighed, frustrated. He’d blown off Rose to come here, not even an hour after making love with her. She must be furious. Or hurt. Or both. “What about the name change?”
“He had a nervous breakdown when he was twenty, ended up in an institution for a few months. Said he changed his name as soon as he got out to turn a new page in his life.” Green shrugged. “He gave us permission to check with the hospital where he was institutionalized. They faxed over the admission date, confirming it.” She handed him a sheet of paper.
The date at the top caught his eye. “April 14th.”
“Does that mean something?”
