Ache For Me Page 4

  “I love coffee ice cream.”

  “I know.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him again. “You know?”

  Shit. He was a litigator, he could get himself out of something as dumb as this. “Of course you do.” He gestured at her mug. “Throw that in the ice cream maker, and there you go.” Lame, Jamieson.

  “Huh.” She took a long sip this time, her eyes closing in apparent ecstasy, or diabetic coma, he wasn't sure. “You're on.”

  He tilted his head, distracted as he was by Cam. “What?”

  “Teach me, master.” She flashed a grin. “I am at your mercy.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut against the visions in his head her words created. “Another time. Today I have to be in the office in,” he checked his watch, “twenty minutes.”

  “You'll be late.”

  “I will indeed.” He paused to look into her beautiful face, free of makeup but bearing the scars of a night spent crying. “Will you be okay?”

  “What would you do if I said no?”

  “I'd stay with you,” he answered more quickly than he should have.

  She shook her head, sending the red-gold strands of her hair flying. “I'll be fine, Carter. I'm a big girl.”

  He'd noticed. Far too much. “Call me if you need me.”

  “Promise.”

  ~*~

  After drinking two cups of what Carter deemed warm coffee ice cream, Camryn called her brother-in-law to ensure the house was secure and relay she was fine through the Everett channels. Cassidy might have just had a baby, but her big sister knew everything that went in on in Ayles county, and a murder did not escape her notice.

  “What's going on at Club Bleu, Cammy?”

  She winced at the nickname. “I have no idea. It's just a place to drink and hear live music.”

  “Seems like something more to me,” Cassidy argued. “Nightclubs are notorious for prostitution, money laundering, human trafficking—”

  “Quit being a prosecutor, and be a sister for a minute,” she demanded, cutting Cassidy off from reciting a litany of sins. “I had no idea anything was happening that shouldn't, and maybe nothing was. Maybe Theo slept with the wrong guy's girlfriend or something.”

  There was a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. “I'm sorry. You know how I am.”

  She did, and it was one reason she and her older sister weren't closer. She loved Cassidy Everett Black, but the two of them were rarely in the same book, let alone on the same page. She had always chalked that up to artist versus attorney, but she had no trouble connecting with Carter, at least when he wasn't avoiding her. She shook off that thought for the moment. “I'm sorry you can't prosecute this murder either.”

  “At least this time I'm on maternity leave.”

  She still had a hard time imagining Cassidy in a maternal role and was certain her sister had already called and bothered her counterpart at the commonwealth's attorney's office at least a dozen times. “Good thing.”

  “Dylan is changing your codes and such, just in case. Ever since Haleigh, there's extra motion detection, cameras, the whole nine. You're safe there.”

  She knew that already from talking to Dylan but made an affirmative noise just the same. “I'm not really worried, but considering the last couple years...” she trailed off, not wanting to complete the thought.

  “You don't have to remind me,” Cassidy agreed. “Be careful, even if you don't think you're in danger. Promise me.”

  “I promise.” There was a long pause, as if her sister wanted to say something, but was holding it back. “Anything else?” she asked, certain it would be a question about Carter, and ready for it.

  “What was Carter doing with you at one in the morning?”

  “Taking care of me,” she answered. “He's been following me every night to make sure I was okay. Last night I wasn't.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I'm a grown woman,” she protested at the unspoken censure in Cassidy's voice.

  A husky chuckle came through the handset. “I didn't say you weren't.” She paused again. “Are you ready for him? Better yet, is he ready for you?”

  It was her turn to chuckle. “I can't speak for him, but I think I am.”

  “Be sure.”

  She took a breath. She was sure, she just wasn't ready. Was she? “One thing at a time.”

  “Be careful,” Cassidy cautioned again. “With everything.”

  “I promise.”

  ~*~

  “Calm down, Cart,” Caleb called from the side of the mat. “He's down.”

  Mason glared at him. “What's gotten into you, man?”

  Just that I've been in love with your sister forever and can't have her. “She was there when Theo was murdered.”

  “Just how were you there, anyway?” Mason asked as he rolled to his feet.

  “When she took that gig I decided I'd follow her every night. I don't like that part of Tyler, and I was worried.”

  Caleb laughed. “She's been living in the city for a few years. I mean, I worry, but not in Tyler.”

  “Really? After everything your family has been through in the last few years, you don't worry about your sister singing in a nightclub till after midnight?”

  “I didn't say we weren't concerned,” Mason started.

  “You need to hit the bag or something, man,” Caleb interrupted. “You're too worked up, and you're going to hurt someone.”

  “That someone would be me,” Mason said. “Look, she's fine, and she's not singing there anymore, right?”

  “For now.”

  “She's a grown woman, Carter.”

  Caleb's eyebrows rose. “Sometimes I think he should've been the brother and you should be the friend. You know his name fits better.”

  It wasn't the first time he'd heard that, and it always made his skin crawl. The last thing he wanted was the way he felt about Camryn being borderline incestuous. “Just because your mom named you without a C doesn't mean she loves you any less.” He shrugged. “Probably.”

  Mason slugged him in the left shoulder. “She named me after herself. She loves me more, first born and all.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Caleb agreed with a sigh. “Get back to work. You two won't learn anything standing around jawing.”

  “Okay, Doc. You want me to beat the bag or your brother?”

  Caleb gave him a small smile. “My brother.”

  Chapter Five

  A week later, Camryn was worrying her bottom lip while she listened to the overture. Ms. Pescatelli and the orchestra were doing a wonderful job, but it was opening night and to say she was nervous would be a gigantic understatement. Carter was the exact opposite of her, cool and in control, sure of the kids and their grasp of their roles, his direction, and her choreography.

  As she watched from the wings, she found her jitters were unfounded. The cast nailed it, and she was so proud she could burst. They still had two performances Sunday, but opening night was on the books and even better than she'd imagined.

  “And you were worried,” Carter whispered in her ear as they took their bows. The applause was loud and long, all the parents and their neighbors standing as they clapped, and Camryn couldn't help but grin.

  “You can't tell me you weren't,” she replied. She and Carter turned to hold their hands out to the cast, then the pit before one of the grips, Michaela, handed Carter a microphone.

  “This is the fifth Jamieson production here at Aylesford High School. As you all know, my parents, Booker and Juliette Jamieson chose to have us educated here in public schools instead of sending us to private schools, even though most of their colleagues advised against it. When my siblings and I were here, the arts were well funded, with complete music and drama programs. Now, my parents and I fund the orchestra and drama programs, and we're happy to add more. Kids in the arts excel, there is no doubt about it, and several studies back that claim. It is something of a pet project, and we are honored to be joined this year by the incredi
ble Camryn Everett.”

  He handed her the mic, and her heart beat double time. An audience she could handle, but to talk about herself? She sucked in a breath and beamed at the audience. “Thank you, Carter. The arts are so important, and Ayles county is lucky to have a family like the Jamiesons behind them, not allowing the county's need for test scores to take away music and drama education. Like the Jamiesons, my siblings and I are products of public schools. I got my start on this stage, in this very show, and standing here today brings me full circle. I spent four years at Ithaca, three years on Broadway, but the most amazing thing in my career so far was watching your sons and daughters embrace musical theatre, Cole Porter, and Kiss Me, Kate.”

  Later, she and Carter walked out together, waiting until all the kids were cleaned up and headed home. “I'm so energized I won't be able to sleep,” she confessed.

  He checked his watch, the Rolex she recognized from his law school graduation. Eight years had passed, but she remembered his party with disdain. His girlfriend at the time had not been kind, nor had she been wrong.

  She shook off the memory, embracing the joy of the night. “I think we should celebrate.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Together?”

  “Sick of me?”

  “Never,” he replied with a shake of his head before crowding her against the windowed library wall. “I should leave you alone, Lark.” He dipped his head, his lips a breath away from hers. “But I don't think I can.”

  Just when she thought he would kiss her, glass shattered all around them with a deafening sound. Before she could register what was happening, Carter had her down in the hallway, his body covering hers, his heart thundering against her back in time with her own. His voice had an intense quality she'd never heard from him before when he said, “Someone was shooting at us.”

  Her ears were ringing, but still, she denied it, unable to believe what had happened. “No. That's not...”

  She heard no other shots, just footsteps slamming against the linoleum followed by screeching questions, asking if they were okay and what happened. Carter didn't remove himself from atop her, speaking to the newcomer from their place on the floor. “We were just on the way out when the window was shot.”

  “I heard the crash and rushed this way,” Lisa Pescatelli said, slightly calmer now. “I've called the police, but I think you can let the poor girl off the floor.”

  She was both smothered and comforted by Carter's human shield but didn't want to be shot any more than she wanted him to be. “Did someone really try to kill us?”

  Carter helped her off the floor, keeping her tucked tightly against his side, much like he had after Theo's murder. “One of us. Smart money is on you.”

  “We were at the last shooting together, too, if you want to get technical,” she rebutted, trying desperately to find some levity in the situation.

  “And you weren't wearing any clothes,” he whispered in her ear. It seemed he was trying to find something light to latch onto as well. “Thank you for running to the rescue, Lisa.”

  “Of course,” the other woman replied, hunger in her eyes despite the recent events. Ms. Pescatelli had a thing for Carter, and the burn of jealousy and possession annoyed and thrilled Camryn. Carter could do whatever he pleased with whomever he wanted, but she knew he wanted her. After they sorted out what was going on with the murder and shooting, maybe she could convince Carter she was a living, breathing woman who needed him in her life. She shuddered. She hoped she would remain living and breathing.

  ~*~

  Chris Delmonico arrived at the high school less than ten minutes after the call. Officers were outside looking for the shooter or evidence, and he was here to talk to the target or targets. Two members of the most prominent families in Ayles county, one of whom was the youngest in the family finding themselves in the center of trouble far too often in the last couple years.

  Carter nodded to acknowledge Chris's arrival. “Detective.”

  He nodded back, noting Jamieson failed to remove his hands from Camryn. “So, what happened?”

  “We were against the wall here,” Camryn explained, “and all of the sudden the window shattered.”

  He was sure she was leaving out what they were doing against the wall, but that wasn't important. “Above your head?”

  “I don't know. It was there, and then it was gone. Carter threw me to the floor and covered me with his body.”

  “Were you just protecting a woman, or did you suspect she was the target?”

  “She was a witness to a murder a week ago. Naturally, she is the most logical choice for a target,” Jamieson answered like the attorney he was before continuing, “even if that wasn't the case, I'd have protected her.”

  “Good man,” he agreed. “The shot came from outside, and you'll need to be checked out for cuts from the glass. If you think of anything else, let me know. I'll contact Tyler PD about the murder at Club Bleu, so we have all the facts. “Stick with Carter and your family, Ms. Everett. They've all been through this kind of thing before.”

  “I know, and that bothers me.” She paused. “A lot.”

  “You're not the only one,” Carter muttered from her side. “I'm staying with you.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Chris agreed as he looked straight through the library, an outer window shattered from the bullet's impact as well. “We'll be here a while, you two get some rest,” he dismissed the pair. There wasn't anything they could tell him he couldn't ascertain from the scene, and he had work to do.

  “We won't be able to have tomorrow's performance,” Camryn said, her voice full of unshed tears.

  “It's all right, Lark. The kids were wonderful tonight.”

  “It's my fault.”

  Jamieson wiped a tear away with his thumb. “No. Whoever is trying to kill you is at fault.”

  “I didn't see anything!” she yelled, turning toward the gaping window. “I hope he can hear me. I didn't see anything, and I have no idea about whatever it is you're trying to keep hidden. Nothing!”

  Carter bundled her against him as she sobbed, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as he did. “Let's get you home, little Lark.”

  “The kids are going to be so disappointed.”

  “You were tough on them, but they still want you alive,” the lawyer quipped, and Chris had to laugh. Who knew Carter Jamieson was funny, or that he was in love with the youngest Everett? He detested the fact he was investigating a shooting at a school, but at least the victims were entertaining, and no one was seriously injured.

  It wasn't long before what little evidence could be gathered was taken, and Chris headed back to the station to write his report. He was supposed to be off but had accepted the call when it had come because it was the high school. He shook his head. It would be nice to have a respite from criminal activity, but the Everetts kept finding themselves at the center of nefarious plots. His sister and her family had been caught in the crossfire of the last incidents involving Haleigh and Caleb Everett, and he hoped this would be an easy case. He doubted it but hoped just the same.

  As he pulled into his driveway, his phone rang with a call from Tiffany Morgan, probably the only cop in Tyler he trusted. “I guess you heard.”

  She chuckled. “Of course, I did. Camryn Everett?”

  “Looks like we've got ourselves another Everett issue.” He sighed. He liked the Everetts, and they really were pillars of the community, but with wealth, privilege, and power came stalkers and murderers. “I'm assuming this is related to Theo Richardson's murder.”

  “Which happened in Tyler.” She let out another small laugh. “We really should just join forces.”

  “I don't think the chiefs would go for that.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she protested. “So, whatcha got?”

  “Not a lot. We've got a casing and a bullet.”

  “Caliber?”

  “Looks like five-five-six.”

  “Great,” she replied, sarcasm dripping from the word. On
e of the most common calibers of rifle, they would likely learn nothing from the bullet and casing recovered. “That's just as helpful as the nine mil we pulled out of Richardson.”

  “I know. I suppose you want to come out and work this one with us in the morning.”

  Her husky laugh sounded in his ear again, and he was reminded that although Tiffany Morgan was a very competent officer, she was also sexy as hell. “I'll be at your house in three minutes.”

  All right, then. “See ya in three.”

  ~*~

  Carter locked the door behind them, once again choosing to spend the night with Camryn and questioning the decision. After nearly kissing her in the hallway before hearing the shot, and waking up with her last week, his resolve was slipping. Taylor's words kept coming back to him, reminding him it wasn't wrong to love Camryn, but he still hadn't had a conversation with Mason and breaking a promise bothered him.

  “Maybe you should just keep a bag packed,” Camryn murmured.

  He couldn't resist, even with thoughts of Mason and his promise all those years ago. “You anticipate me sleeping over a lot?”

  She laid her hand on his chest. “Are you?”

  “Someone is trying to kill you,” he deflected, aware his heart was beating erratically beneath her palm.

  “That's...” she bit her lip. “Maybe we can make the best of a bad situation.”

  The longing her in hazel eyes got to him. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and he had hurt her time and again, pushing her away. He didn't know what had happened in New York, but he did know he was going to kiss her, and he didn't care if Mason beat the shit out of him for it. “What did you have in mind?” he asked as he gently pushed her against the entryway wall.

  Her breathing was rougher now, and he reveled in the feeling of her curves against him. Dipping his head, he captured her lips, pouring nearly a decade of passion and longing into the kiss. When she opened her mouth, his tongue found its way in, parrying with hers. She clutched at his head, holding him to her, little mewling sounds coming from her throat and making him hard as a rock beneath his dress pants. He had to pull away, or he'd fuck her like an animal against the wall.