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  “What did she say when you told her about Hollie?” her mother asked, beaming in Hollie’s direction. When Kyle didn’t immediately reply, Constance rephrased her question. “You did tell her about Hollie, didn’t you?”

  Kyle quickly studied the map of the zoo pretending she hadn’t heard.

  “Kyle, it’s a simple yes or no answer.” Her mother sounded impatient.

  “No, I didn’t tell her, and it really isn’t that simple.”

  “She’s your daughter. I know I’ve been out of the dating scene for centuries, but don’t people normally talk about their families when they get to know each other?”

  “Yes mother, they do. But it just never came up. Lane didn’t say anything about her family either.” Why am I being so evasive?

  “Why are you being so evasive Kyle?”

  Jesus Christ, now she can read my mind! “It was just one meal. She didn’t ask and I didn’t volunteer.”

  Constance was frustrated. “Good God. ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ doesn’t apply here.” Her expression changed as an explanation dawned on her. “Are you afraid she won’t be interested if she knows you have a child?”

  “Of course not,” Kyle replied quickly. “But if that is the case, then she wouldn’t be the woman for me.” She stopped talking when she realized that the comment made it seem like she was looking for a woman, which she was not. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “If and when I’m ready to begin seeing someone, Hollie and I are a package deal, no exceptions. I didn’t tell her because it was just a dinner. No use spilling my life story if the woman turns out to be a dud.”

  “And did she?”

  “Did she what?” Kyle was having a hard time following this simple conversation.

  “Turn out to be dud? For heaven’s sake Kyle, get your head in the game. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d already fallen for this girl.” Her mother lowered her sunglasses and peered at her. “Have you fallen for her?”

  “Mom,” Kyle dragged out. “I haven’t fallen for her. For heaven’s sake, we’ve only gone out to dinner. That’s all. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Except my battle scars and fears.

  “Uh huh.” Constance let the subject drop.

  *

  The workweek began and when Kyle entered The SandPiper she literally ran into Lane just inside the front door. She reached out and grabbed her arms to keep her from toppling over. “Jesus, Lane, are you all right?”

  Lane took a quick backward step. Kyle’s hands felt like fire where they touched her skin. “I’m fine. I think you just surprised me more than anything.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Concern filled Kyle’s eyes as they trailed down her body as if inspecting her condition.

  Lane’s breath caught in her throat before she could answer. “I’m fine.”

  She wasn’t sure she would see Kyle again on a personal level, especially after their differences over whether or not the lady who left her child in the car should be prosecuted. It had been obvious that she wasn’t comfortable with the change of direction in their relationship, but there were glimmers of contradiction in her demeanor. There were times when she was almost cold and impersonal and other times when the look of pure desire in her eyes shook Lane to the core. Lane suspected the detective was unaware that her eyes gave her away. Right now, they were dark and smoky with more than a hint of desire, and they prowled Lane’s body with blatant sexual craving.

  After that look, I’m really not fine, but I’m not going to tell you that. At least not yet. She took Kyle’s hand. “Come on, let’s get out of the entryway before someone else mows us down.” She led Kyle to an empty table on the patio.

  Kyle held the chair for her. “Thank you.” Lane signaled Margo, the waitress, knowing that she would follow with coffee, but Kyle called Margo over instead.

  “I’ll have a raspberry-mocha frappuccino this morning.” She glanced at Lane and was rewarded with a pleasantly shocked expression. Kyle knew she had pulled one over on her by asking for the same beverage Lane had made for her the other morning.

  “I see you’re expanding your beverage selection.” Lane was thrilled Kyle remembered.

  “It was time to step out on a limb and try something different.” She was far too set in her ways. Kyle was talking about much more than changing her morning coffee.

  “I had a wonderful time the other night.”

  “I did too. You’re a charming dinner companion.”

  Margo set a colorful breakfast mug in front of Lane. Kyle immediately thought of the cups their coffee was served in after dinner. As she suspected, they were delicate china with handles so small she could barely get her fingers through. These she liked better.

  “Charming? I don’t think I’ve ever been called charming.” Lane smiled, remembering that Kyle opened the door for her, and held her chair out for her. Kyle’s actions were more than being polite. She was attentive and made her feel special.

  Kyle chuckled. “Well, I suppose I could have said bright, intelligent, warm, and witty.” Her eyes slowly scanned Lane’s face. When she spoke again, her voice cracked a little. “And beautiful, don’t forget beautiful. Would that have been more familiar?”

  Kyle reached for her glass to regain her equilibrium. She’d made a split-second decision to come here in person. It would have been perfectly acceptable, and safer, to simply call Lane and thank her for dinner. Now that she was sitting across a table from Lane again, Kyle knew exactly why she had come. She wanted to see her again.

  All coherent thought left Lane’s brain when she met Kyle’s eyes. Reflexively, she licked her lips and watched in fascination as Kyle’s pupils darkened with barely restrained desire. An old familiar pulsing began in her crotch. A movement in the corner of her eye broke the spell, and she cleared her throat before answering, “I’m not used to being flattered, but thank you. I honestly didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  It was Kyle’s turn to be flabbergasted. “Why?”

  “Because of my stupid comment about the lady and her baby. I thought I pissed you off.”

  Kyle smiled and relaxed. “No, you didn’t piss me off, just a difference of opinion. Somebody once said you should never talk about religion, politics, or sex. There is no right or wrong position, and you will never convince someone to change theirs.”

  Lane started to giggle. “Speaking of sex and positions…” she hesitated enjoying the expression of fright on Kyle’s face. “What are your thoughts on prostitution?”

  Kyle was dumfounded at the change of subject. “As in have I ever paid for it? Or are you going to tell me you have?” Kyle was afraid to breathe.

  “No silly. However, I do think it would be a lot simpler sometimes,” Lane said, thinking out loud.

  “How so?” Kyle was afraid of where this was leading but she couldn’t help asking.

  “It’s kind of like shopping.”

  Kyle choked on her frappuccino.

  “We buy everything else we want or need,” Lane continued. “Why not sex?”

  Was she always so practical? Kyle had often thought the same thing, especially when she was horny and no relief was in sight. But she was an officer of the law and it was her job to uphold it.

  Uncomfortable, she replied, “I don’t think I know how to answer that. Or what I should say, or shouldn’t.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you off the hook on this one.”

  “Are there going to be more?” Kyle asked tentatively.

  Lane thoughtfully considered the question. “Probably.”

  Kyle wiped the spilled coffee from her chin. “Then could you possibly give me a little warning so I don’t inhale my frappuccino again.”

  “Nah, I like to keep you hopping.” Lanes eyes twinkled with mischief.

  Kyle took several deep breaths to rein in her rapidly beating pulse. The ability for small talk deserted her. “I’d like to see you again.” Her voice was husky.

  “I’d like that too.”

 
Once again, Kyle was drawn into Lane’s bright blue eyes, losing herself in the depths of desire brewing in them. She had never been as attracted to a woman as she was to Lane, and certainly not this fast. Was it only days ago that we saw each other again after so long? The turn of events was thrilling and frightening at the same time.

  “Do you dance?” Lane asked.

  “Excuse me?” Kyle was not sure she heard her correctly.

  “There’s a dance at the Bay Club this weekend, and I’d like to go with you.”

  The Bay Club was a private club on the marina and admittance was by invitation only, the guest list a who’s who of the lesbian community. The thought of being held in Kyle’s arms on the dance floor turned the pulsing in Lane’s crotch up several degrees. She was sure Kyle could sense her arousal.

  Kyle was not certain her voice would work. The rapid beating of the vein in Lane’s throat aroused her almost to the point of pain. Jeez, this woman gets to me. She dragged her eyes away as the waitress refilled Lane’s coffee. Those few seconds enabled her to regain some sense of control, and she allowed herself to return Lane’s candid stare. “Yes, I dance.”

  “Well?” Lane had to ask, unsure if Kyle had accepted her invitation or not.

  “Sorry,” Kyle replied embarrassed. “I’d love to go dancing with you.”

  Lane was intrigued as she watched Kyle struggle and then regain her balance. This is an interesting woman. A small smile formed on her lips. “The dance is Saturday. Are you free?”

  “I am now.” Kyle’s mind shifted to babysitters. This was Gretchen’s weekend off; she hoped her parents would be able to watch Hollie.

  “Nine o’clock okay?”

  “Would you like to grab some dinner before?” Kyle almost groaned aloud. Before what? Before I take you in my arms and feel your body pressed against mine? Before I feel your arms around me and your breath in my ear? Before I watch your body move on the dance floor? Before I lose my mind?

  “That sounds great.” Lane noticed Donna, her hostess, headed their way “I’m sorry Kyle, business calls. Would you excuse me?”

  Kyle rose along with Lane and held her chair, as usual. “I’ve got to be going, too. How about I pick you up around seven? Chinese okay?”

  Lane hated to leave so abruptly, but she knew that look in Donna’s eyes and it meant trouble. “Perfect on both points. Here, let me write down my address.” She pulled a business card and pen from her pocket. She looked up when Kyle chuckled. “What?”

  “Well, I am a detective. I probably could have found out where you live.”

  “True, but this is much more personal, don’t you think?” She held out the card with her address and phone number on the back.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Their fingers touched as Kyle reached for the card. A bolt of pleasure traveled from her fingertips directly to her crotch. Before she had a chance to think twice, Lane trapped her fingers between her own.

  “Keep the streets safe, Detective.”

  With one last look, Lane walked away and Kyle was left at the table, alone and more aroused than she could remember being in years. The waves cresting on the beach below mimicked the pounding between her thighs, and watching Lane’s ass as she retreated was blissful torment. She watched Lane lightly touch the shoulder of a customer Kyle knew was a regular. When she leaned down to talk to the man, her hair glinted in the morning sun. The thought of holding Lane in her arms was almost too much to bear. Kyle wondered how she was going to hold herself together until Saturday evening.

  She started guiltily when her pager went off and reached for the phone on her belt. For a few seconds she forced herself to breathe slowly, then she dialed. She had no idea how she was going to carry on a normal conversation when all she wanted to do was make love to Lane.

  Chapter Five

  A woman named Gloria Faulkner was dead. After checking the detective’s badge, the officer guarding the door of the apartment to which Kyle was summoned stepped aside to let her enter. Kyle was in full detective mode by the time she got to the rundown motel-turned-apartment. Far too many convictions were botched by inattentive investigators who were lazy or just didn’t care. Kyle was not one of them. Her record as an investigator was spotless and her methods meticulous. Detective Bain was a prosecuting attorney’s dream.

  At first glance, Kyle wasn’t sure if the condition of the apartment was the result of a struggle or simply that the tenant was a slob. Papers were strewn across every surface, and newspapers lay in piles around the room. Beer cans were everywhere, most crushed, lying on their sides, some in pools of their contents. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, and take-out containers covered the rickety card table that occupied the center of the kitchen. Crime scene technicians were taking measurements and snapping pictures and barely glanced at her.

  The smell was overwhelming as Kyle stepped further into the apartment. Death and decay accompanied by massive amounts of blood created a smell she would never forget for the rest of her life. Even though she knew the woman inside had probably been dead at least a week, Kyle kept her mind clear, not wanting to jump to any conclusions that might prejudice her judgment.

  Swatting flies away, she stepped into the bedroom. The room was in shambles. The nightstand was on its side, a broken lamp on the floor, dresser drawers destroyed, their contents spilling out like a waterfall. Blood covered the bed. In some places it was minimal, in others a grotesque collage of shapes and thickness that had dripped on the floor at times masking entire areas of the thin, cheap carpet. But Gloria Faulkner, or what was left of her lying naked in the middle of the bed, was the reason she was here.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Kyle saw Travis approach. When he’d called to give her the address of the homicide, Kyle had said that she would meet him there.

  “Someday I’m gonna write a book where every baby born is given a ‘be nice to people shot.’” Travis shook his head and sighed. “Sometimes this shit just gets to me.”

  Kyle nodded in silent agreement. Man’s inhumanity to man was shocking, and just when she thought she had seen it all, another call came in. But no matter how disgusting and disheartening it could be, she wouldn’t trade her job for anything. She loved what she did, and she loved using her brain to catch the bad guys. And she couldn’t do it without the man standing next to her.

  “If people were born nice we’d be out of a job,” Kyle said. At this very minute, as she looked at Gloria Faulkner beaten to death, that concept didn’t sound too bad, but she went on, teasing, “What would we do every day?”

  “Play golf and watch Judge Judy.”

  “I don’t play golf, and I think Judge Judy is ridiculous.”

  “Me too.” Travis returned his attention to the deceased. “I guess we’d better get to work.”

  *

  It was late afternoon before Kyle had the opportunity to call her parents about watching Hollie on Saturday night. She left a message on their machine and promptly forgot about it as she investigated the death of Gloria Faulkner. So far, she and Travis had been able to piece together that Gloria was a twenty-four-year-old hooker with a nasty heroin addiction and that she worked the corner of Highland and Eighty-fifth Street, an area known for heavy prostitution activity. She had either opened her door to the wrong guy, or she knew her killer. Tomorrow they would get the medical examiner’s report, which would pinpoint the time of death, and she and Travis would hit the streets again.

  It was after seven before she felt comfortable enough with her progress on the Faulkner investigation to tidy her desk and go home. She called Gretchen before she left the station, asking her to keep Hollie up until she arrived.

  Luck was with her and every stoplight was green, reducing her ride home to only fifteen minutes. She pulled into her garage and then hurried inside the house to see her little girl. Hollie’s bedtime was seven-thirty, but Kyle wanted to spend just a few minutes with her daughter before she went to bed. When she was with Hollie, the ugliness of the world
disappeared in those big brown eyes and butterfly kisses. Three yawns later Hollie was sleeping soundly in her arms. She gently laid the child in her crib, turned on the baby monitor and left the Winnie the Pooh room.

  Kyle was staring at her dinner as it bubbled in the microwave when her phone rang.

  “Hi, Mom.” Kyle answered eagerly when the caller ID displayed the familiar number.

  “Hi, sweetie. We got your message and thought we’d wait till you got Hollie down for the night.” Kyle’s parents knew how little time she had to spend with her daughter and hesitated to intrude on their precious time.

  “She just went down. I had Gretchen keep her up a little late so I could see her.”

  “Bad day?”

  That was her mother’s way of asking if there was yet another murder for her daughter to investigate. “Yeah.” That’s all Kyle ever said. Her home was her sanctuary from the ugliness of the world she saw every day, and she refused to bring it inside. “Can you watch Hollie Saturday night?”

  Kyle held her breath, anticipating the third degree she would receive from her mother since their mother-daughter chat at the zoo. She was relieved when it didn’t transpire.

  “Oh that’s perfect, honey. We’re hosting the bridge club this week, and I was just saying to your father that we need to show off our little girl to our friends. What time do you want to bring her by?”

  “Is six too early?” It only took ten minutes to get to her parents house, but it would take another twenty to get to Lane’s.

  “Do you want to join us for dinner?” Constance asked.

  Kyle smiled at the familiar request. No matter how old she was, her mother thought the only good meal Kyle ever ate was one served by her mother, preferably in Constance’s kitchen.

  “Sorry, Mom. I’d love to, but I have dinner plans.” Kyle hoped she wouldn’t need to reveal too much more to her perceptive mother.

  “Anyone special?” Constance asked with not a shred of subtlety.

  Kyle laughed. She knew she wouldn’t get off the hook without a question or two. “Mom, you really should work on your interrogation techniques. You reveal yourself far too easily.”