Locked in Temptation Page 31

  “I can’t wait, either. And when I do, I will turn all your dreams into reality.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  JOY WALKED INTO interrogation room T5 with Sanchez. Acklin was observing on the other side of the tinted one-way glass. A uniformed officer had picked up Oliver Effington earlier, and the man hadn’t liked it.

  “Good morning, Mr. Effington,” Joy said, sliding into a chair at the table while Sanchez took another. And as far as she was concerned, it was a good morning. After indulging in phone sex with Stonewall and having the best orgasm of her life, she had drifted off to sleep. When the alarm had gone off at eight she’d felt rejuvenated and ready to go.

  “It is not a good morning, Detective Ingram. What is the meaning of this?”

  “We need answers. What is your association with Anderson Hopkins and Dr. Kelly Langley?”

  “Dr. Langley refers clients to us like several other fertility specialists around town, and I’m not sure I know of a Mr. Hopkins. Describe him to me.”

  “We can do better than that,” Sanchez said, tossing a paper clip back and forth on the table. “We can take a trip down to the morgue and let you look at him.”

  Color drained from the man’s face. “Morgue?”

  “Yes. Anderson Hopkins was killed last night,” Sanchez replied.

  Joy was convinced the man would topple over in his chair. “Anderson is dead?” he asked in a shaky voice.

  “Yes,” she replied. “If the two of you are on a first-name basis, then I’ll assume that you not only knew him, but knew him well.”

  Effington nervously rubbed his hands together. “Not well. We did business together on occasion. When we verified the medical history of our surrogates, his company arranged genetic testing for us.”

  “And that’s it? Is that why the two of you have been talking a lot lately? Most noticeably, within hours of when Sanchez and I paid you a visit that night to discuss Mandy Clay? What did the two of you talk about?”

  The man paled. “How do you know we talked?”

  The door to the interrogation room suddenly opened. A tall man with an authoritative air and dressed in a business suit that probably cost more than her entire monthly paycheck walked in with a stern look on his face. “I’m Kerry Robinson, Mr. Effington’s attorney, and my client won’t be answering any more of your questions.”

  * * *

  THE PHONE WAS picked up on the first ring. “What do you have to report, Post?” Norm Austen asked.

  “It’s a mess just like I thought. Anderson Hopkins botched things pretty damn bad by having that doctor killed. But I plan to straighten it out.”

  “And what about the primary agency we use? Beautiful Creations? Do we need to do something about them, as well?”

  “No. Not a good time now. The cops had Effington in for questioning. Tried to make a connection between him and Anderson but couldn’t. Robinson showed up and shut things down.”

  “Good.”

  “Yes, but according to Robinson, the detective in charge, a Lieutenant Ingram, is dogmatic. She won’t give up until she finds something.”

  “Make sure she doesn’t. That surrogacy operation brings in too much money for us to have to shut it down.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll do what I have to do.”

  * * *

  IT WAS LATE when Joy got home that night. Effington’s attorney had successfully blocked them from talking with him, but they had a court order in before a judge to counter that. She had a gut feeling now more than ever that he was involved in something shady and it had included Anderson Hopkins and Dr. Langley. Was Effington the one to put the hit on the both of them? If so why? Did it have anything to do with Mandy Clay?

  They had spoken with Dr. Langley’s brother again. He claimed he hadn’t known Hopkins and hadn’t been aware of her sister’s affair with him or that they’d used his home for their romantic rendezvous. Joy was pretty sure Driscoll didn’t have anything to do with Hopkins’s death, but he would remain on the suspect wall in her office until it was proved otherwise.

  She had requested a search warrant for Beautiful Creations and had hoped to have it by now, but didn’t. With the search of Dr. Langley’s office, she and Acklin had spent most of the day interviewing her colleagues and reviewing files. While doing so she drank so much coffee that now she felt too wired to sleep. But she would, because tomorrow was another full day. One possible new lead was that package Dr. Langley had left at her brother’s home. Joy had decided the move had been intentional. But why? After Sanchez and Acklin had left for the day, she had remained behind to go through more files to see if she could make a connection and to review the suspects’ photos on her wall.

  Joy had stopped by the library to obtain books on fertility and surrogacy. She’d had a lot of reading material to choose from and intended to start tonight.

  One positive development was a break in the Erickson case. The chief had shared with her the good news that they had a lead on the murderer and Randi had been the one to find it. More and more people were accepting her psychic abilities as real.

  Joy had showered, dressed in her nightgown and crawled into bed with one of the books she’d checked out the library when her phone rang, and she knew it was Stonewall. She couldn’t help but smile. His nightly calls were helping her to unwind and release her daily stress.

  She quickly clicked on. “Hello, Stonewall. You call me to talk dirty?” she asked, chuckling. A woman could hope.

  “I can do better if you open your door.”

  Joy’s heart began racing. “Open my door?”

  “Yes.”

  That meant...

  Tossing her phone aside, she quickly got out of bed and rushed through her house. She did take the time to look out the peephole before opening the door, and there he stood under the porch light, looking so unadulteratedly male that her heart almost missed a beat.

  Her nerve endings seemed to go haywire as she unlocked the door. She was so happy to see him that she rushed forward and threw herself into his arms. He seemed ready for the impact and lifted her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He kissed her. Or was she kissing him? She didn’t care. It didn’t matter. The main thing was that they were kissing each other.

  And more than anything, she knew at that moment that Stonewall Courson had become more than a diversion for her. A lot more.

  * * *

  DAMN, HE’D MISS HER, Stonewall thought, closing her door with the heel of his shoe and taking the time to lock it. He quickly moved toward her bedroom. The phone sex had been good but what they were about to get into was even better. There hadn’t been one day he hadn’t thought about her, missed her, wanted her.

  The Reddicks had decided to take an extended trip to Dubai for a month. When they invited Mondae to join them, Stonewall’s services were no longer needed since the Reddicks would take along their own private security detail.

  It hadn’t taken him any time to pack, and he’d come straight here from the airport. He hadn’t called her because, like before, he wanted to surprise her. And nothing would ever erase from his mind the look on her face when she’d seen him. It had made all those hours at the airport on standby well worth it.

  “I missed you, Stonewall,” she whispered against his ear while her arms clutched him around his neck and her legs tightened around him. Was he imagining things or was the heat of her pressed against his zipper making him throb even more?

  “I missed you, too.”

  He knew at some point they needed to talk. He thought that two people who missed each other as much as they did were ready for a relationship of the most serious kind. That was his conclusion and he was sticking to it.

  When they reached her bedroom, he wasn’t sure who was the quickest in removing their cloth
es. Probably her because she had less to take off. But he was right behind her. His hands were shaking when he slid on the condom, knowing she was in that bed watching him and waiting for him. Finished, he turned and looked at her, the woman he’d been fantasizing about, lusting over and...

  For the moment, he didn’t want to think about what came after the and. It would cause problems if he did. Instead he quickly moved toward the bed and pulled her into his arms. Tonight he planned to make her scream his name just as often as he screamed hers.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  STONEWALL GAZED DOWN into the sleeping face of his Joy in the morning. And it was morning. Almost six.

  As if she felt him watching her, she slowly lifted droopy eyelids. “I wish I could stay here with you all day,” she said in a sluggish voice.

  He smiled, just imagining how that would turn out. “Sounds good to me.”

  “It would,” she said, yawning. “I don’t want to go to work but I have to. So much going on. I’m convinced those two cases I told you about are connected.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. “And if they are you’re going to find out how.”

  A smile touched the corners of her lips. “You are so good for my ego, Stonewall.” She stretched out. “And on that note, I need to get up and get dressed.”

  He pulled out a book he felt under the covers and held it up. “The Essence of Fertility. Your choice reading?”

  “Not hardly. I prefer a good mystery novel any day.” Then she brought him up-to-date on the cases as well as the FBI’s good news about having a solid lead in Murphy Erickson’s death.

  “A lot’s been happening while I’ve been gone.” And he hadn’t been gone that long.

  “Well, you are back now, and I’m glad you are. When did you get in?”

  “Last night. I came here straight from the airport.” He’d needed to see her just that badly.

  “I’m flattered, Stonewall,” she said, easing her naked body out the bed.

  And he was in...

  No, he refused to go there. “I know you’ll be busy most of the day, but you need to start it off right.” When she slid her gaze to his lower extremities, he laughed and said, “Not that. I think you got enough last night.”

  She chuckled. “I got more than enough. So, if not that, then what do you have in mind?”

  “Breakfast. Let me take you somewhere and then I’ll drop you off at work.”

  “And how will I get home?”

  “I’ll come back and pick you up.”

  She gave his suggestion some thought. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be leaving work. And I might need my unmarked car.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Just text me when you want me to pick you up. I’d gladly be at your beck and call. And I’m sure there are other unmarked cars you can use today if you need one.”

  “That’s true.” She gazed at him for a long moment before saying, “My beck and call, huh?”

  “Yes, baby. Your beck and call.”

  She smiled as if the thought of that pleased her. “That, Mr. Courson, sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”

  * * *

  “I DON’T WANT to go to work, Stonewall.”

  Joy couldn’t believe she was admitting such a thing, and for the second time that day. When had she ever preferred spending time with a man to being at work, getting criminals off the street? She was allowing the one thing to happen she swore she never would after her breakup with Omar. She was allowing a man to come between her and her job. Her career. Her life.

  “That’s just all the sex and omelets talking.”

  She chuckled, giving him an amused glance. “Sex and omelets?”

  “Yes, sex and omelets.”

  She couldn’t feign ignorance. Not when he’d gone back out to his car to grab his luggage before joining her in the shower. It had taken her longer to shower than usual when he had shown her just how wonderful it was to make love while water cascaded over their naked bodies. Just thinking about how he’d taken her hard against the shower wall had her feeling aroused all over again.

  She’d assumed he was planning to take her to their café for doughnuts and coffee. Instead, he’d taken her to Fargo, a place known for their breakfast entrées. Especially their omelets. She felt satisfied and stuffed. That, she discovered, was a blissful combination.

  Now they were in his car and he was driving her to work. Never had any man she’d been involved with driven her to work. It was going to be a beautiful day, and she believed eventually she would solve all her cases, and she and Stonewall would make love all the time and—

  Whoa! She suddenly sucked in a deep breath, not believing how crazy her thoughts were getting. Maybe Stonewall was right. The best sex and the most delicious omelets was a zany combination.

  At that moment his phone rang and she almost chuckled at the ringtone. It was the musical theme from the old television show Dragnet. “Sorry, I need to get this. It’s Sheppard.”

  He clicked on the Bluetooth in his car. “Good morning, Shep. What’s up? You’re on speaker with me and Joy.”

  “Good morning to you both.”

  “Good morning to you, as well,” Joy said.

  “I just wanted to announce I’m a grandfather again,” Sheppard Granger said, his voice coming in loud and clear over the car’s speakers. “Jules delivered.”

  “And what did she have?” Stonewall asked. “A boy or a girl?”

  “Would you believe both?”

  Joy was convinced both her and Stonewall’s mouths dropped open at the same time. “Jules had twins,” Stonewall said in amazement. “Did they know and not tell anyone?”

  Sheppard’s chuckle was rich. “It seems Jules knew all along but kept it a secret to surprise Dalton.”

  Joy watched as Stonewall shook his head, laughing heartily. When he was able to contain his laughter he asked, “And how did Dalton take the surprise?”

  “I heard he passed out in the delivery room, but I’m sure he’d never admit to it. Watching his wife deliver one baby was bad enough. But watching her deliver two—I can just imagine.”

  “I can, too.”

  “He was still in shock when he came out to the waiting room to deliver the news. He said he was going to wring Jules’s neck for not telling him. Then Shana told him he couldn’t do that. He needed to keep Jules around to take care of those two babies unless he planned on doing it by himself.”

  “I guess he doesn’t plan to wring her neck anymore.”

  “You guess right. By the time I left the hospital, Dalton was proudly passing out cigars and taunting his brothers that they could only produce one baby, but he’d managed to produce two.”

  Joy didn’t know Dalton Granger that well. But she had heard he was quite a character. It definitely sounded like it. She slid her gaze to look out the window while Stonewall told Sheppard Granger he’d returned to Charlottesville early and why. They were stopped at a traffic light when the occupants in the vehicle next to them caught her attention. She didn’t know the two men in the front but she did recognize the one in the back seat. It was Oliver Effington. Where was he going and with whom?

  As if he’d felt he was being watched, Effington turned his head and stared at her. Whatever he said made the other two men turn to stare at her, as well. And then the light changed and their car sped off.

  “Follow that car, Stonewall,” she said before thinking. “That black sedan just ahead of us.”

  Without asking for an explanation, Stonewall did as she asked. His expertise in dodging in and out of traffic almost surprised her, but he was a highly trained security professional. Already she had unholstered her Glock and was on the phone with headquarters, giving the dispatcher a description of the car and the direction it was headed.

  Out of the corne
r of her eye she saw Stonewall had removed his Glock, as well. She quickly turned to him. “I can handle this, Stonewall.”

  “I know. Just giving you backup in case you need it. And just so you know, seeing you getting ready to kick ass makes me hard.”

  Joy couldn’t help but laugh. The man was something else. Suddenly he slammed on the brakes. It was either that or risk hitting a bunch of kids who had just gotten off a school bus. The black sedan had sent the kids scampering in all directions when it nearly hit several of them.

  Joy was speaking on the phone. “We lost them near Commonwealth and Beaver Streets when we got cut off by a school bus. I want Effington found immediately and brought in for questioning.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “TELL ME YOU’VE located Effington,” Joy said to Sanchez when he walked into her office.

  “Not yet. His wife claims she hasn’t seen him since he left home this morning for a meeting. We have plainclothes cops staking out his house and agency. And we don’t have that search warrant for Beautiful Creations yet. That attorney is trying to block it, citing the clients’ rights to privacy.”

  “He would,” she said in disgust.

  “I just wanted to let you know the Carringtons are here.”

  Joy nodded. They might not have access to Beautiful Creations’ files yet, but they knew who Dr. Langley had referred, thanks to the packet she’d left at her brother’s home. Joy was convinced Dr. Langley had done so for a reason. Had she feared her life was in danger? Upon searching through the documents, Joy had pulled all the embryo transfers that matched the timeline for when Mandy Clay gave birth. She was determined not only to find out what happed to Mandy but also to find her baby.

  She had seen the names of Brett and Rachel Carrington, but hadn’t known that Rachel Carrington was related to Anderson Hopkins until it was discovered her name was listed as his next of kin.

  Joy walked into the interrogation room where the couple sat holding hands. “Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Carrington.”