See No Evil

Then she arched her hips and took the tip inside her.

He groaned, all teasing and games over, as he thrust himself deep inside. She tensed. How long had it been since she’d had sex? A year? Two?

He stopped pushing. Kissed her. Her neck. Her ears. His hands were in her hair, rubbing the back of her head. Holding her tight against him. She squirmed, trying to bring him closer though they were as close as two people could be. Slowly, he pulled out, then back in. The friction, the pressure, brought forth a guttural response she was shocked came from deep within her. Connor’s breath came hot and heavy onto her neck. She pulled her legs up and out as far as she could to give him as much as possible.

“More,” she gasped, and he complied, holding her ass as he thrust deep inside her and held tight. Sweat coated both of them as they tried to slow down the race to the finish line, to force their bodies to draw out the ecstasy. She grabbed his head, pulled his mouth to hers, and as their tongues dueled, their legs entwined, she arched up against him.

“Julia, Julia.” Connor kissed her, wrapping his arms around her back and pushing himself all the way in; hips rocking, bringing her up and over the top with a second orgasm. She cried out in response. He groaned as he came, kissing her over and over, their bodies still vibrating.

Connor held Julia close, unwilling to break the connection. He had his ear on her chest, her heart beating loud and fast. He listened to it as it slowed, a soothing, relaxing vibration. It lulled him into a half sleep, pushing from his mind all thoughts of how they were going to make this work.

TWENTY-FOUR

Faye sat on the end of the couch and stared out of Cami’s bedroom window into nothingness. They had gathered here after midnight. Her father thought she was home in bed. Not that he would know. He was someplace else, in another bed, screwing his woman of the month.

Her stomach groaned uneasily. She didn’t know if it was because she hadn’t been eating well or if she was worried.

“You should never have tried to kill her,” Skip said. He paced the room, worried. Frantic was more like it.

“It had to be done,” Cami said. “Julia Chandler’s digging too deep.”

“Bullshit!” Skip shouted.

“We agreed-” Cami started.

“You agreed,” interrupted Skip. “You’re the one who’s made all the rules, deciding who lives and who dies. Emily is in trouble because of your stupid idea to kill Victor Montgomery.”

“It was part of the plan.”

“Your plan. One you haven’t shared with us.”

Cami’s voice quieted, a sure sign she was ticked off. “The weak panic when the road gets rocky.”

“The smart survive,” Skip countered. “And you’re not being smart.”

“Don’t start, Skip.”

“Why? You going to try to kill me, too?” he taunted.

Cami’s lips pursed. “You’re treading on thin ice. All we have to do is lay low.”

“We shouldn’t have killed Dr. Bowen so soon after Judge Montgomery,” Faye said, speaking up for the first time that night.

Everyone looked at her. She’d never contradicted Cami in front of Skip and Robbie. Cami looked betrayed. “Faye, you said-”

“I know what I said. But looking back I think we made a mistake. But it wasn’t our mistake, was it? He wanted it done. There must have been a good reason. But I still think it was too soon.”

“I want out,” Skip said.

“There’s no getting out,” Cami shot back. “Don’t even say it. Don’t even think it. No one can connect us to Dr. Bowen’s death. No one can connect us to anyone.”

Faye’s stomach clenched. She felt like puking. Skip had just signed his own death warrant. Nothing was working out like it was supposed to.

“I’m going to kill my dad,” Robbie said. “By myself.”

Cami jumped off her bed and slapped Robbie. “Don’t you dare. That’s not the plan. Just sit tight and wait. I promised you he’d be next, but we have to wait.”

“I earned it. I did. I did what you asked me to do.”

“Actually, you didn’t. You didn’t kill Julia Chandler,” Cami said.

“We’re all going to jail,” Skip said. “Julia Chandler’s a freakin’ government lawyer!” He jammed his hand into the wall, wincing as the plaster cracked and blood seeped from cuts in his knuckles.

“Cami.” Faye shook her head. They should never have told Skip about Robbie’s failed attempt to kill the prosecutor. He was their weakest link. Even druggie Robbie was more reliable than Skip. Faye should have gone after Chandler herself. She would have succeeded.

Faye didn’t want to kill Skip. She liked him. He’d been kind to her when he didn’t have to be.

Skip stared at Faye and the realization of her duplicity sunk in. “You knew about trying to kill the lawyer lady?”

She nodded. Cami stared at her and Faye realized she had screwed up. Big-time.

“How’d you know?” Cami asked her.

“Robbie told me,” she lied, looking at Robbie and pleading to him with her eyes.

Robbie shrugged. “What’s the big fucking deal who knows? She didn’t see me. She didn’t see anything. I would have got her, too, if that other guy hadn’t shown up.”

“What other guy?”

“The one Cami was sliding up against in Bowen’s office Saturday night.”

Skip’s fists clenched. He winced as his knuckles stung. “We’re all fucked.”

“No, we’re not.” Cami crossed to the center of the room, got their attention. “Everything’s under control. The police have nothing. There’s no way to trace any of us to Wishlist. We’re covered. You have to trust me.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word trust.” Skip left.

Faye walked over to Cami and touched her face. So enraged, Cami was shaking. “He’s going to blow.” Cami looked Faye in the eye. “We have to do it.”

Faye shook her head. “No.”

Cami now touched Faye’s cheek. “Containment. We knew it might need to happen.”

Faye nodded. A sob escaped her throat.

Cami turned to Robbie. He was half-asleep on her couch. He’d also been high when he’d hit the prosecutor’s car. It’s why he had screwed up.

“Hey, Rob, let’s go take care of your truck,” Cami said.

“Sure.” He gave Faye a lopsided grin. “See ya tomorrow.”

Faye watched them head for the bedroom door. Cami gave her a stern stare.

Faye knew what she had to do, but for the first time, killing didn’t seem like fun.

Robbie dozed in the passenger seat of Cami’s sleek sports car after telling her where he’d stashed his truck. The ride lulled him to sleep. He remembered Cami’s warnings about drugs, but he’d only smoked a little pot. Okay, so it was laced with some primo opium, but it wasn’t like he was on coke again. He wasn’t a total idiot. Pot was nothing. It was just like smoking cigarettes. Better even, you didn’t get cancer.

He dozed. Cami shook him awake when they arrived at the San Marcos quarry, in a part of it that hadn’t been worked on for months. There had been an attempt at security, but earlier in the week Cami had taken care of it, and now, a couple days later, no one had noticed.

Robbie’s truck was parked between two piles of half-processed rock-exactly as Cami had directed him after he’d tried to take care of the lawyer.

Cami said, “Robbie, wake up.”