A Carpino Series Collection, Books 1-3 Read online

  But when I had her smoking hot body up against the wall and handcuffed, I did what I’ve never done before—something against policy—and that’s pat down a woman. We’re supposed to call in a female officer to pat down another female, but fuck me, I did it before I thought twice. And fuck me again if I didn’t feel it in my dick when she shivered under my hands. Mac had a few choice words for me later, but after interviewing her, I doubt she’ll do or say anything unless her attorney cousin makes an issue out of it. I could tell that even though Mac knew it was against policy, on some level he knew why I couldn’t resist. He might be twenty years my senior, but he’s a man and not blind by a long shot. And demanding to call an attorney? She’s gotta to be familiar with the process, most people don’t have their attorney on speed dial unless they are loaded or are already in trouble with the law and have needed one in the past.

  Yeah, Gabrielle Carpino was full of surprises.

  She’s not tall but not short with the perfect amount of curves. Ever since yesterday, feeling her body under my hands and her looking up at me with her clear blue eyes, scared shitless at what she found herself in the middle of, I can’t get her out of my fucking mind. It pissed me off enough during the interview to learn how Harper’s comments made her uncomfortable in the past, but I’m fucking infuriated about what’s been said about her on the wire taps. There’s been talk of retribution against her now that she knows what little she does from yesterday.

  I need to let her know there’s a threat, tell her as much as she needs to know, and get the hell away from Gabrielle Carpino. I need to get my mind back on my case where it should be.

  As I turn down her street and look for the address, I’m surprised again. She owns her home—I learned this last night as I ran her background. Not only does she own her home, she owns it outright, there’s no loan or note listed on the property and this is an upper income neighborhood with big lots and large houses. She drives a top of the line Chevy Tahoe that’s only a year-and-half old—again, no note. Her background didn’t say she was married or divorced for that matter and she’s still pretty young, not quite twenty-eight. How in the hell does an accountant slash decorator set herself up like this at the age of twenty-seven? We must have missed something on her.

  I pull into the circle drive and park in front of a huge ass house, complete with an enormous porch on the front with limestone pillars. There are a shit load of pots overflowing with flowers and vines that clearly states a woman lives here and gives a shit. As I exit my truck and walk up to her door, I can’t help but think that Gabrielle Carpino is on the take and somehow, we fucking missed it. Or maybe she’s a damn trust fund brat that walks through life with a gun in her purse.

  I press the doorbell, step back so she can see me through the sidelight windows and wait. Moments go by and nothing. I try one more time. All of a sudden I hear a small dog yappin’ and Gabrielle yell, “Hang on. I’m coming, I’m coming.”

  She flings open the door without even a glance at the sidelight—which pisses me off—and she’s standing there in the wide-open doorway looking like a college girl in a tiny blue Creighton t-shirt tight across her chest and cut off jean shorts. Her long legs that look so good they should be illegal. She’s barefoot, her hair is pulled into a mess at the back of her head and her makeup-free face is wearing a shocked as shit look staring up at me. Her hair and blue eyes are freaking gorgeous against her olive skin tone and I find myself staring at her pink lips, full and slightly parted with her surprised look.

  As I stand here wondering what those lips would feel like on different parts of my body, I finally snap out of it as her yappin’ dog starts attacking my ankles and whining for attention, which I ignore. I look back up to her eyes and wait for her to say something, which she doesn’t.

  “Miss Carpino?” I start, as she still hasn’t uttered a word.

  She finally gives her head a small shake. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to speak to you about yesterday. Can I come in?”

  “Yesterday?” She acts as if it was ten fucking years ago and can’t remember what I’m talking about. Now I’m beginning to lose my patience.

  “Yes,” I bite back and start to spell it out for her. “Yesterday. At Trevor Harper’s house.”

  “Um…” She looks to the side and back at me tilting her head. “This isn’t really a good time. Can I call you, maybe make an appointment? Tony can come with me. I’m really busy right now, I have a little bit of a situation I’m trying to deal with.”

  I’m not a patient person by nature, but shit, this woman is seriously trying me and the damn dog at my feet still wants my attention. I cross my arms and keep on. “You find yourself in a lot of situations?”

  Affronted, she pulls her frame up to full height and throws her attitude at me this time. “No, for your information, I do not find myself in a lot of situations. If you’re dead set on interrogating me on my front porch, one of my hot water heaters burst and I have water all over my basement. Water tends to be destructive, quickly I might add, and I’m trying to move things around as best I can before someone gets here to help. So, although my latest situation doesn’t deal with law enforcement, big men dressed in black with federal search warrants, it does require all of my attention, now. If you’ll please give me your card, I’ll call you and we’ll set up a time.”

  I stand here a beat, my arms crossed watching her throw her attitude again. Glaring down at her, I find myself growling my words. “You should look out your window before opening your door. You never know who or what kind of threat it could be.”

  “Excuse me?” she responds, confused by my demand.

  Now, shocking myself, I answer with a question as I push through the door. “How do I get to the basement?” With the dog following me, Gabrielle is forced to move as I walk into her house. Still standing with the door in her hand staring at me, I repeat, “Gabrielle, basement?”

  “What are you doing?” Her voice climbs higher.

  “I’m helping you move your stuff.”

  “You’re not helping me move my stuff.”

  “Yes I am.”

  “No!” she yells. “I’ve made some calls and am expecting help soon. You can leave.”

  “Gabrielle, no offense, but you’re a slip of a woman. I doubt you can move shit by yourself. I’m here, I’m helping.” Getting tired of the banter and still wondering why in the hell I’ve just offered to help move furniture, I search for the way to the basement. Looking to the right, I see stairs and make my way around Gabrielle to the staircase. She’s still hasn’t moved. For some crazy-ass reason, I can’t help but grin and wink at her when I ask, “You comin’? I hear water has a way of being destructive, quick-like.”

  She finally snaps out of her trance and shuts the door as I head down the stairs, the dog still on my heels. I hear her following me so I yell back up at her, “Lock the door, Gabrielle.” Her advancing stops before I hear her stomping back up the stairs.

  When she finally makes it back down to the soggy basement, I look over at her when her quiet voice comes at me. “Gabby.”

  Confused, I ask, “What?”

  “Gabby, everyone calls me Gabby,” she responds softly.

  I take her in, standing there on soggy carpet in her huge ass basement. “Okay, Gabby. Where in the hell do we start?”

  Jude has been in my house for the past two hours, making me nervous as hell and I’m so tired from not sleeping well last night after my crazy day yesterday. The combination of the two is making me a wreck.

  When I came down this morning to get some work done in my basement office where I run my business and stepped off the bottom stair into water, I thought I was going to throw up. I’m really not a good homeowner. I keep telling everyone—myself included—that I’m going to put the house on the market once I get it updated so I can get top dollar. My entire family simply gives me that look they’ve perfected over the last few years, a combination of love and sorrow, saying someth
ing like, “Whatever you want, Gabby. No hurry, it’s not going anywhere.”

  I’m figuring this house stuff out a little at a time. It took me a whole summer to learn how to take care of the yard with the fertilizing, winterizing, how much to water, and that’s with paying the neighbor boy to mow. Maintaining furnaces, air conditioners, filters, fixing small things when they break or go screwy has been a learning process to say the least.

  And now I can add hot water heaters to my list. Did I fail my hot water heater in some way or did it just kick the bucket on its own, deciding to flood my basement? I don’t know, but my head is starting to hurt from the lack of caffeine, as my latest debacle started when I was brewing the first pot of coffee.

  Jude showing on my door step this morning was a miracle and a tragedy. Seeing him outside my front door made my heart skip a beat and I was at a loss for words. He looked better than I remembered, in a faded red t-shirt and jeans that fit too well. His legs, thick and defined in denim, made him appear even bigger and more powerful than yesterday in his police outfit. I still don’t think he’s shaved and his hair is yet again messy on top, which makes me wonder if this is his normal do instead of helmet hair. Either way, the messy look works for him in a big way and I find myself wanting to run my fingers through it.

  But as much as I’ve enjoyed getting glimpses of Jude lifting, bending and stretching in my basement while moving my furniture around, I cannot believe he is here because I look like hell. I went to bed with my hair wet which is always a scary sight the next morning. I have no makeup on, not to mention the dark circles under my eyes from tossing and turning all night.

  Tony got here about thirty minutes after Jude. I called Tony before Jude showed, he was at the gym playing basketball. Two days in a row I’ve screwed up Tony’s day, needing him to come to my rescue. Shortly after Tony arrived, the first restoration company that popped up on Google showed with fans and other whatnots to start drying out my basement. I’ve hardly said a word to Jude since Tony got here.

  Now the two of them are standing amongst the hellacious mess that is my basement, heads tipped and talking quietly with the restoration crew working around them. Not having the energy to think about what they’re talking about, I go to my office with Mia faithfully at my feet. My office was thankfully spared from water since the mechanical room was on the other side of the basement and the water hadn’t made its way in here yet. As Mia turns circles in her bed, I wake up my computer to print off the invoice I came down for originally this morning and need to get in the mail today.

  I look around thinking I’m grateful I’ve put off renovating the basement and pray my insurance comes through in a big way. Maybe I can upgrade my carpet, repaint, and with a bit of luck I’ll be able to replace all the baseboards, as well. My next project was going to be the guest rooms upstairs, but apparently my hot water heater had other plans for my makeover schedule. Hearing Jude and Tony’s voices getting louder, I turn to see them walking through the door to my office.

  “I’m outta here, Gabba,” Tony says.

  “Sorry I ruined your day again, basketball, and well…everything.”

  “I know, just another day in the life of Gabby Carpino’s cousin.” He teases. “Just so you know, I plan on sleeping in tomorrow so if you could ward off any more catastrophes until the afternoon, that’d be good.”

  I glare at him. “Bite me, Tone.”

  He looks at Jude with a grin. “Can you believe her? I gave up my Saturday morning basketball game for this shit.” Then Tony goes on to slap Jude on the shoulder as he starts to walk out of the room. “See ya tonight at six.”

  Jude gives him a lift of the head, as if he’s agreeing that yes, he will indeed see Tony tonight at six.

  What?

  “What?”

  “Vic’s co-worker dropped out of the draft, Jude’s taking his place.”

  “What?” I repeat.

  Tony ignores me and turns to walk out of the room yelling back, “If all you’re bringing is salad, it’d be nice if you brought something sweet.” Then he disappears into thin air.

  I look to Jude and repeat yet again, “What?”

  “I told Tony I’d come with you. I’ll pick you up at five-thirty,” he informs.

  “Five-thirty?”

  “Gabby, you ask a lot of questions. Yeah, I’ll be here at five-thirty. Size of this town, you can get anywhere in thirty minutes, even though Tony said it wasn’t far. I’ve talked to the crew—they’ll be done soon. I made sure they’ll contact your insurance Monday morning and get with you about the details. The fans need to run through Monday night. Good luck with that, sugar, I think they’re freaking out the dog.” He throws a glance over at Mia tucked into a tight ball in her bed, not liking the buzz of the fans.

  Not hearing anything past “sugar” and not getting my wits about me, the only thing I can come up with is, “You play Fantasy Football?”

  “Not for quite a few years, but I used to.” He leans into the door jamb of my office. “I gotta get to work and get some shit done this afternoon, you good here?”

  “Uh…yeah, I’m good.” I’m still trying to catch up with his latest plans. “You really don’t need to come and get me. I’ll get you the address, you can go straight there.”

  “Not a big deal, we’re both goin’,” he answers with finality. Looking at me intensely, he says with authority but it comes out more like a demand before he turns and walks out of the room. “Five thirty.”

  Finally pulling myself together, I remember my manners and hurry out to follow him up the stairs and to the front door that he is already opening. “Jude?”

  He turns. “Yeah?”

  “Um...” I look down and then slowly back to him. “Thanks for today. All your help, you know, moving furniture and stuff.”

  “Do you have an alarm?” he asks out of the blue.

  “Uh, yeah?” I sort of answer, trying to get used to his bizarre conversation tactics.

  “Set it when the crew leaves. Keep it set while you’re in the house and lock your doors.” Then his arm reaches out low, pointing down and to the side. “And look out your window before you answer the door.”

  I feel myself frowning. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I’ve got to get to the office, we’ll talk more tonight. Just do as I say, all right?”

  I sigh, thinking locking my doors and setting my alarm isn’t that big of a deal. Does he think I’m an idiot?

  “Okay, fine,” I answer with a hint of attitude.

  “Good. See ya at five-thirty.” He gives me a head lift as I stand watching him turn to jog down my front steps to a silver truck. He opens the door to his truck, turns to look at me and repeats loudly this time, “Lock the door.”

  I glare at him for a bit before I realize we’re in a stare down and he’s not going to leave until I lock my door. Fine, whatever. I move out of the way, swing my door shut and lock it. I stand here and glance down at Mia, who’s sitting at my feet. She doesn’t look as confused like I feel, she’s complaining about her morning nap being interrupted by all the activity.

  “Let’s go outside, baby,” I say, thinking I could use a nap as well.

  I let my sweet girl outside and head to my pantry to see if I have ingredients to make something sweet for Tony. I find the fixings for almond vanilla bars. Tony deserves almond vanilla bars after answering my every whim for the last two days. I get the first layer spread, start mixing up the cream cheese and powdered sugar topping when I realize Jude never told me why he came by this morning. I didn’t think of it when we were moving furniture and lifting carpet, I was so focused on the task at hand. He said we’ll talk tonight, so apparently, I’ll find out soon enough.

  Putting my bars in the oven, I set about making the raspberry vinaigrette for my spinach salad as I hear the restoration crew coming up the stairs. They confirm everything Jude told me about their plans, I find out they will be back late on Monday to check the moisture levels in the basem
ent, and I see them out. I let Mia back in, finish my dressing, pull out my bars to cool and head to my bathroom to take a shower. Lifting Mia onto the bed, she curls up immediately to catch up on her beauty sleep as I look at her enviously.

  Thankful I have two hot water heaters so I can still take a shower, I turn on the water to warm up, but hesitate. Turning, I walk back to my front and back doors, lock them both and arm my security system. Frowning at myself, I’m not sure if I’m conflicted about following Jude’s commands or why Jude commanded it, I head back to my shower.

  Soaking up the hot water in my new walk-in shower, I try to ignore the happy little spark I feel down deep that’s seriously scaring me more than any of the crazy stuff swirling around me the last two days. Not really wanting to admit it, I’m pretty sure that itty bitty spark might be having Jude Ortiz in my house. Or maybe it could be Jude Ortiz being bossy, demanding I lock my doors and set my alarm.

  Scaring me even more is the possibly it could just be both.

  Chapter Four

  Making A Decision

  For the second time today, I’m standing on Gabby’s porch pressing the bell. If she doesn’t look out the fucking window before opening the door, I might have to turn her over my knee. At the same time, I’m trying to think about how I’m going to talk to her about Trevor Harper and how she needs to take extra precautions until we find him. I need to get that done before we go to the draft.

  I only said yes to the draft so I could see Gabby again. I haven’t been in a Fantasy Football League since I was deployed. But her cousin seems to be a decent guy, clearly having Gabby’s back, so when he asked if I’d draft a team at the last minute, I took my opportunity. I thought about filling him in on what’s going on with Trevor Harper but decided to talk to Gabby about it first since she at least has a security system in place and if she used it, she’d be okay for today.