Chapter Twelve Cole
Addie and I haul ass back over to the dumbwaiter. “Get in!” I urge her, shoving her forward. She crawls inside, and I wish I had more time to admire her curvy behind, but we need to get the hell out of here.
“C’mon!” She motions for me to get inside with her.
We both know it’s our only option. There’s no way I can stroll out the front door and risk running into Warrant.
And if I sit here and wait for her to go first, there most likely won’t be enough time for another dumbwaiter roundtrip before Warrant opens his front door and catches me.
This being a studio apartment, there aren’t a lot of places to hide. None, in fact.
“Slide over,” I order, then duck my head and push inside the cab beside her.
She turns to face the opposite direction, curls up on her side, and I get in, quickly roll the gate down and spoon her.
Of course, since we’re both inside, no one can push the button to lower the damn elevator.
All we can do is lie here quietly. And wait.
My hand rests on her hip and my body is in full contact with her entire backside.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I fight for control.
Her flowery scent alone is enough to drive me wild, but coupled with her delicious body pressing into mine?
That luscious ass against my dick? Christ. It’s sheer torture of the sweetest kind.
The front door opens and closes, and I feel Addie stiffen.
My heart thunders and every breath I exhale makes her hair flutter.
We’ve never been this close for an extended period of time, and I swallow hard.
I have no idea how long we’re going to be trapped in here together like this.
As much as I’m enjoying it, my hip is starting to ache and my nerves are on edge.
We listen to him move around in the apartment, and when the refrigerator door opens and closes, I slide my hand over to my holster. I’m hoping I won’t need my gun, but I’ll be ready if necessary. A can pops open—a soda, or maybe a beer—and we wait, not daring to move.
Addie sniffs then freezes, her entire body going taut.
Shit. I think she just plugged her nose to keep from sneezing.
There’s a lot of dust and dirt in here, so I’m not surprised.
I squeeze her hip, praying she doesn’t let out a loud sneeze, and curl my fingers around my gun.
But after a minute, she slowly releases the breath she’s holding, and I let out a sigh of relief.
I’m not sure how much time passes—fifteen minutes maybe?—when I hear a door close.
“Did he leave?” I whisper.
“I don’t know,” she responds softly.
As if in answer, the faint sound of a shower turning on reaches my ears.
“Out,” Addie orders, pushing back against me.
Opening the door up as quietly as possible, I roll out then shut it again and hit the button that will return Addie to the basement. I really hope Warrant takes his time in there, because from the time the dumbwaiter leaves and finally returns, it feels like a damn year has passed.
Warrant is still showering as I climb inside the cab and pull the door shut. From the basement, Addie calls the dumbwaiter back down. Thank God. That could’ve been a major disaster if he’d caught us.
The moment the dumbwaiter thuds to a halt, I open it up and get out to see Addie already spinning around and racing back over to the window. “C’mon!” she calls.
I hurry after her. “What’s the rush?” I ask.
“We’re going to follow him when he decides to leave,” she declares. “Now boost me up!”
She definitely doesn’t have to tell me twice. Touching her is my new favorite thing. Grasping her hips, I lift her straight up and she climbs back out the window with ease. No wonder she’s so good at her job—she moves with the grace and flexibility of a dancer. She’s also damn fast.
Addie holds the window open, and I grab onto the edges and heft myself up. Back outside, I stand up, dust my hands off, and we get back into the Challenger. “He might not go anywhere for a while.”
“Maybe. But, I guarantee that rat is going to lead us straight to his hidden stash of cheese. Probably sooner than later.”
“Let’s hope so.”
After moving the car to a better position where we have an eye on the street and the apartment building’s entrance, there’s nothing left to do but wait.
“Never thought I’d be on a stakeout with you,” I say and pop a fresh stick of gum into my mouth.
She chuckles, turning in her seat. “Do you chew gum twenty-four seven?”
“I’m substituting.”
“For what?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Nicotine.”
“When did you quit?”
“A year ago, and it’s a damn hard habit to break. You smoke?” I’m not sure why I’m asking, because of course she doesn’t. She smells like the sweetest orange blossoms, not like some dirty ashtray full of butts.
“No. It’s a disgusting habit.”
“I guess everyone has a vice,” I toss back at her.
“Loosen up, Detective. Didn’t you have even the tiniest adrenaline rush breaking into Warrant’s place?”
“Squishing into a rickety dumbwaiter isn’t exactly my idea of a good time,” I say in my gruffest, grumpiest voice.
“What is?”
Kissing you. Touching you. Fucking you into sweet oblivion. The words fly through my head before I can summon up an appropriate answer. “Arresting criminals. Delivering justice,” I answer.
“Yawn.” She returns her attention to the building, and I take a moment to pull my thoughts out of the gutter.
“What about you?” I counter.
“What about me?”
“Don’t you ever feel bad for taking things that don’t belong to you? What makes you any different from Warrant?”
“Nothing,” she snaps. I can tell there’s more she wants to say, but she clams up.
I swear to God, this woman is going to be the death of me. Snapping my teeth together, I lean back in the seat and try not to growl. I have no idea how long this is going to take, and the tension between us is so thick, I’m not sure a machete would cut it.
Surprisingly, Warrant appears sooner than I expect, and we watch him slip into a nondescript Toyota Camry and drive away.
“Go!” Addie leans forward, eyes on the other vehicle.
“I know, but if I don’t hang back, he’ll see us.”
“Don’t lose him, Vaughn.”
“I won’t, Mills.”
“You’d drive a saint crazy, you know that?” she huffs out.
“Right back at you,” I respond smoothly and send her a wide, fake grin.
“So annoying,” she grumbles under breath.
I chuckle and follow Warrant, making sure I don’t get too close. There’s enough traffic that we can blend in, but when he veers off the main drag and gets on the highway, I fall back and allow several cars to get between us.
“Dammit, Vaughn, you’re driving like you’re eighty years old with impaired vision. Hit the gas or we’re going to lose him!”
I slam on the accelerator and her back hits the seat. “I’m not going to lose him. In case you’ve forgotten, I do shit like this for a living,” I grit out, sending her a sidelong look. “You’re very aggressive, you know that?”
“Aggressive people get things done.” She points to the Camry as it pulls over and exits the highway, heading away from the city and into a more rural area.
“I see it.” Even though she doesn’t like it—and finds every annoying huff, sigh and tsk available in her repertoire to let me know—I stay as far back as possible without losing him.
When the car turns down a rough dirt road, moving into the woods, I blast by it then backtrack, driving very slowly as we roll deeper into the trees.
In the distance, a ramshackle barn comes into view, and I pull off the narrow road and park behind a clump of overgrown bushes and other brush.
“We walk from here,” I say, grabbing a bottle of water from the cupholder.
I have no idea how long we’re going to be out here, but gum won’t quench my thirst.
After getting out, I check my gun then return it to the holster at my back, allowing my shirt to cover it.
Staying hidden in the tree cover, we move forward and make our way around to the back of the barn.
There’s a small window and we move fast, staying low, and race up to it.
Addie wastes no time peeking in, and I just shake my head.
She can be so reckless, acting before thinking things through, whereas I’m the complete opposite.
I like to have a fairly solid plan before I move.
I take a quick look, though, and bite back a sound of frustration. The window looks directly into a horse stall, and we can’t see a damn thing except for a dirty floor covered in moldy hay. No sign of Warrant or the duffel bag, but I do hear him moving around in there.
Turning, I slide down into a crouch, my back against the barn. At this point, all we can do is wait. The last thing I want is to bust in there and spook him, especially when I have no evidence. We need to get this right the first time. Once he knows I’m on to him, he’ll disappear fast.
Where the hell is that duffel bag? I wonder.
A few minutes later, Addie crouches down next to me. I raise a brow, wondering if she saw anything, but she shakes her head. Obviously, the man is up to something, and I’m not leaving here until I figure out exactly what that might be.
After what feels like forever, but is more like a couple of hours, he leaves. Just in time, too, because it looks like it’s about to pour.
Once the sound of his car’s engine fades away, we walk around the dilapidated barn. A few raindrops begin to sprinkle down from the gray sky above. When we reach the door, there’s no missing the shiny, silver lock on it.
I watch Addie reach into her bag of tricks and pull out a lockpicking kit.
I shouldn’t be surprised at how quickly she pops the lock, and I’m reluctantly impressed by her skill.
We walk inside and the sound of wings flapping in the rafters above snags my attention.
Glancing up, I see a large bird fly out a hole in the roof.
“Definitely a good place to hide some stolen money,” I murmur.
“Yes, it is,” Addie agrees. “But where?”
She taps a finger against her chin and looks around.
I wander one way and she heads the other.
After several minutes of searching, I find a drying rack tucked beneath the ladder leading up to the loft.
It’s folded up, but the perfect tool to hang currency on after the serial numbers have been washed off.
“Addie—”
“Vaughn, over here!” Addie calls, and I stride over to the horse stall where she stands. There are ten altogether, and this one is on the opposite side of where we camped out the last couple of hours. “Footprints,” she murmurs, pushing the stall door open and pointing out Warrant’s tracks.
Inside, I see a few large bales of old hay, a coiled rope in the corner, a pair of work gloves and a shovel leaning against the wall.
My attention snags on the shovel’s blade and I walk over, crouch down and inspect it.
As a detective, I don’t take anything for granted.
I’m well aware noticing one small detail can help break a case.
And the dirt stuck to the shovel tells me it was used recently.
“He was digging,” I say, standing back up. My focus zeroes in on the hay bales and I grab the top one and toss it aside. Addie helps me move the other two and, sure enough, we’re staring down at a mound of freshly-turned dirt.
We exchange grins.
“Are you going to start digging, Detective? Or should I?”
I put the gloves on, grab the shovel and get to work.
After ten minutes, I break a sweat. Addie offers to help, but I tell her it’s okay.
I need to keep busy and I’ve got a good rhythm going.
Outside, rain falls down and the steady thrum becomes almost lulling as I scoop out pile after pile of dirt.
Just when I’m beginning to doubt there’s anything buried here, I hit something.
While Addie drops down beside the hole, I ditch the gloves and guzzle down some water, watching as she starts brushing dirt away.
As I pour the remainder of the water over my hands, washing them, she pulls out a duffel bag.
My heart thumps harder when she unzips it to reveal stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills.
“Found it,” she murmurs, looking up at me with wide, blue eyes.
For a long moment, we stare at the cash, and the only sounds are my breath returning to normal from my exertions and the steady beat of the rain. Then she zips it back up, stands and heaves it up off the ground.
I’m not sure what she’s doing, but I reach for my phone. Time to call for backup.
“Don’t you dare,” she says in a low voice. “We’re taking it.”
Our gazes lock like antlers colliding. “I’m calling for backup.”
“Do that and you’ll tip him off,” she states. “Then all of this will have been for nothing.”
“Don’t you think he’ll be tipped off once he discovers it’s gone?”
“Not if he thinks a rival—like me—took it,” she insists.
I shake my head. “I need to call it in—”
Her blue eyes spark. “You have to look at the bigger picture. Involving the cops now will send Warrant running. I guarantee it.”
“Put that back in the hole,” I say between clenched teeth, and she sends me a slow smile. Okay, maybe not the best word choice.
“Maybe you should put it in the hole,” she tosses back, voice husky and suggestive.
All of the desire I’ve been battling, straining to keep contained, flares to life, and my control frays even further. Her lashes flicker and her cobalt blue eyes seem to darken. With lust? Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with the need to possess her. To taste her. Get my fill of her.
The rain pounds down harder outside, the smell of hay, dirt and orange blossoms filling my nose, as I grab the woman who will be my downfall and slam my mouth against hers.