But as much as Leonard dreamed of taking everyone out in a hail of bullets, he told himself he wouldn’t let Sophia or anyone else tempt him into acting rash. That was no way to win. If he shot up the town, he’d die, too, or he’d go to prison, and that wouldn’t fix anything.
No, he’d take her apart piece by piece, beginning with what she’d stolen from him first—her job. And he’d do it without anyone being able to prove it was him. He finally had the tools he needed to insure success. Over the past few weeks, he’d managed to bug her house, her car, even the station.
She wouldn’t make any progress on the UDA murders because he’d know everything she did and he’d stay one step ahead of her.
What he’d learned about her relationship with her stepfather while listening to her conversation with Roderick was simply a bonus….
13
It was midafternoon by the time Sophia woke up. Because of the pressure she’d been under, she hadn’t been able to sleep for several days, so she’d taken a sleeping pill, and it had definitely done its job. She’d been unconscious for eight solid hours. But the first thing she thought of when she opened her eyes was what she’d been thinking about when she fell asleep—her conversation with Leonard Taylor.
Was what he’d told her true? Did her stepfather have a nude picture of her in his wallet?
She couldn’t imagine how that could be the case. For one thing, she had no idea how or when he would’ve gotten it. For another, he couldn’t risk having her mother come across it. Anne preferred to live in denial, but that kind of proof would be too obvious to ignore, even for her.
And that wasn’t the only part of Leonard’s story that seemed suspect. He said Anne had gone to the police station and asked for his advice. But Anne had never particularly liked him. He’d dared to come on to her once, when they were both young and unmarried, and Anne was appalled that he thought he was good enough. Some of his cousins had money, but he didn’t. Plus, Anne’s pride meant everything to her. She’d never be able to hold her head up in Bordertown if people thought she couldn’t keep her husband’s sexual interest away from her own daughter.
So…where would Leonard have come up with that if it wasn’t true? And how ironic that he’d mention it right after she’d divulged the truth to Rod. During the past decade, she’d heard no allusion to her stepfather’s inappropriate behavior, had made no allusion to it herself. Yet the subject had come up twice in the same evening only minutes apart.
Definitely odd….
A knock at the door told her she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep even if she could forget about the sickening possibility that her stepfather might have such a revealing photograph in his wallet.
You have the most amazing tits. How many people had seen that picture? If it existed…
“Hey, you home?”
It was Rod, calling to her from outside her front door. She recognized his voice, but wasn’t sure she wanted to see him. She’d kissed him last night and had considered doing even more. Which seemed crazy in the light of day. They barely knew each other. Besides, she felt a little superstitious about what she’d told him, as if that moment of weakness might bring the world as she knew it tumbling down around her. She’d been too tired and, when it came to Rod, too influenced by guilt and attraction to maintain her usual defenses.
Still, there wasn’t much point in leaving him standing outside, banging on the door. He’d be able to get hold of her later, if not now. Why procrastinate?
Dragging herself out of bed, she pulled on a pair of cutoffs and one of the T-shirts she generally wore around the house and answered the door.
Sophia’s tattoo sleeve took Rod by surprise. When he’d known her, she’d been a cheerleader, a good student. Such a classic symbol of rebellion seemed incongruous with all that. But, as he’d discovered, she’d changed quite a bit after he left Bordertown….
“That’s a lot of ink,” he said dryly.
She glanced down. “A remnant of my Starkey days.”
“Ever thought of having it removed?”
“You don’t like it?”
“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. But he liked the rest of what he saw—the braless chest, the shapely legs. She was far more appealing out of uniform. Which did nothing to bolster the decision he’d made after she’d gone home last night. He wasn’t going to let himself get physically involved with her. As much as he was tempted to coax her to submit, as much as he believed that would bring him the closure he’d craved for years, he knew a “love ’em and leave ’em” experience wouldn’t be best for her. She’d been through enough.
“Then I’m glad I don’t care,” she said. “What’s up?”
He ignored her tart response about the tattoo. He’d asked for it, after all. “I just spoke to Milt.”
“Who’s Milt?”
“My boss.”
She shoved her sleep-tousled hair out of those bottle-green eyes. “Is he planning to have the governor call me?”
“I told him it wasn’t necessary. He was pleased to learn that you like me now.”
Her eyes met his. “Who said I like you?”
He smiled. “I can tell.”
“How?”
“You don’t have your Taser out anymore, for one. I figure that’s a step in the right direction.”
“Why bother with a Taser? Even electrocution won’t get rid of you.”
He lowered his voice. “And then there was that kiss.”
“A peck.”
“You melted like butter. That had to mean something.”
She grimaced. “It means I’m hard up, remember? You were the one who pointed that out last night.”
“I didn’t say you were hard up. I said you don’t have a lot of discreet options.”
“And you offered me a one-night stand.”
“An offer that has since been rescinded, by the way. You missed your opportunity.”
She folded her arms beneath her br**sts and, although it wasn’t intentional, the action drew his attention to the cle**age showing above the top of her wide-necked T-shirt. “You’re saying you don’t want me anymore?”
Want had nothing to do with it. “Nope. Not now that I’ve seen you without makeup.”
She slugged him. “Thanks for the ego boost!”
“About time I returned the favor,” he said as he laughed. “After all, you’re the girl who destroyed my ego fifteen years ago.”