The Blue Lion, page 6
part #1 of Cape Danger Series
Dancing over to where Matt stood, she removed his sports jacket. He was shaking his head and grinning now. Putting out his hands and pulling her to him, he lifted her chin.
"I know what you're doing, princess."
She peeked up from beneath her long lashes. "Oh? And just what am I doing?"
"Distracting me. And it's working."
"Oh, wait! We need music."
Matt put his hands on her shoulders. "Be still. I'll get it."
Meg waited as he turned on the old record changer and put on his favorite record. Bolero by Ravel filled the room as he moved back to her.
Holding her eyes with his, he approached her, giving the music a chance to softly start. Her eyes were wide as she met his, and their gazes locked.
"Now," he said, moving so close to her, she was forced to crane her slender neck upward to maintain her gaze. "My turn."
When she started to unbutton his shirt, he captured her wrists in his hands and moved them back down to her side. She smiled, and he shook his head. "No, young lady. Don't move."
"But—"
"Shh." He rested his hand against her lips. Those luscious, perfect lips, combined with her big blue eyes, were mesmerizing. A man could live there.
The music stepped up a bit, and he turned her around so she faced the other way. Slowly, slowly, he lifted the hem of her top, drawing it upward and over her head. He let the garment fall on the floor next to her and then lowered his hands to her shoulders, rubbing her soft skin gently with his thumbs. He felt her shiver as his hands descended to her breasts. Her nipples were starting to pebble; he could feel it through the lacy bra she wore.
Working his way around to her back, he unfastened her bra and clutched it in his hands, bringing it down and dropping it to the floor on her other side.
"Now," he commanded, "bend over and touch the floor."
She shivered but hesitated, and he brought one hand down to her bottom and gave it a squeeze. She whimpered; he loved that sound.
He waited until her hands rested on the floor and brought his hands to her waist. Gently, he moved them down so they caressed the cheeks that escaped her skimpy panties, and then he stood back.
Meg didn't have any idea how she stirred him. He'd told her often enough, but she still didn't seem to understand it.
He knelt down behind her and grasped one slender ankle, then the other, to remove her shoes and then brought her panties down and let them rest at her ankles. Leaning forward, he smoothly slid his hands up the back of her thighs and between the globes of her bottom.
"Do you have even the faintest idea," he said, kissing his way up her thighs, "what you do to me?" He smiled as he felt her tremble under his hands.
As he brought her feet out of her panties, he grasped her ankles and moved them further apart on the floor, so she was open to him. Hands grasping her bottom, he gently set his thumbs to rest on her rosebud.
A smile slowly crossed his face as he heard a small gasp from her and felt her shiver of excitement. "On your knees. Head down."
Slowly, she obeyed. One hand under her, he gave her pussy a sharp swat and then moved forward to her clit, rhythmically circling. She bucked slightly under his hand, and he grasped her bottom firmly, until she was still. "You are not to move one inch," he said in a warning tone.
His fingers entered her channel; it was tight, and he let them rest there a moment before withdrawing them. Two entered her the next time, and he began thrusting them in and out, feeling her shiver of pleasure. That little rosebud beckoned, and he invaded it.
Meg cried out and came apart as waves of pleasure took over. He felt her tighten around his fingers and watched as she whimpered in ecstasy. It seemed to go on forever, until her knees collapsed under her and she lay on the carpet, exhausted.
"That," he leaned forward, and whispered in her ear, "was magnificent. I want to see it again and again."
A whimper answered, and he smiled. "We've talked about this, princess, and we've worked on it. If you don't want me to do this, say so now."
Only silence answered.
"I take that as a yes?"
"Oh, Matt," she whispered. "Yes."
He took hold of her waist and raised her up, resting her forward on the coffee table, spreading her thighs apart and caressing her bottom a while before beginning again. This time, he delivered little sharp pats on her folds, increasing in intensity, and then moved to her clit. When she gasped as he moved the tiny spanks backward onto her rosebud, he knew she was almost ready. Another plunge of his finger into her bottom caused her to give a sharp cry and brought her to a climax instantly.
"Oh, princess," he growled into her ear, "how I love watching you do that. And now, I intend to have my fill of you." He began kissing her neck, working his way down to her bottom and legs, all the way to her toes, nipping unexpectedly here and there. Dropping his trousers, he brought himself over her from behind and entered her, gently at first, then more firmly, in time with the music that filled the room. Once again, he invaded her bottom with his fingers, one, then two. then withdrew. She made a keening sound deep in her throat as he entered and began to thrust harder; she was again panting, and suddenly, a beautiful, guttural sound issued from her throat as the crest of climax overtook her.
He pumped his seed deep into her for what seemed an eternity before collapsing over her, and they stayed that way until he finally picked her up and lay down on the carpet with her wrapped in his arms.
"Rest, princess," he whispered into her ear. "Just rest."
Chapter 6
The call…
Meg didn't realize how soundly she had slept until she awakened and heard Matt's voice. Slowly, she opened her eyes, smiling when she realized she was still lying on the carpeted floor. Matt had put a throw over her to cover her. He was dressed and pacing back and forth in the kitchen.
"Yes. Thanks for letting me know. Sure, I'll be glad to give a report. I'm so sorry to hear that. I'll tell Meg. She might possibly have known her."
Meg sat up, staring at him as he hung up the phone. She'd seen this expression on his face before when he'd lost a patient. Leaving the throw in the floor, she went to him and put her arms around him.
"She didn't make it," she whispered. It was not a question.
"No." He brought her close, tucking her head under his chin. "She didn't."
"I'm sorry."
"Sometimes, princess, we know we've done all we can do, but the power for life and death isn't in our hands, as much as we like to think it is. We try, but there comes a time when death is inevitable. You can scream, cry, kick the trash can, but it won't make any difference. The only thing that might make a difference is to pray."
She tightened her arms around him, and he kissed the top of her head. "But you, princess, will never know how much that little act of kindness from you helps."
She tilted her head upward. "Meaning?"
"Meaning, I couldn't do this at all if I didn't have your support and your love." He tilted her head upward further and kissed her on the mouth. "An investigator may come by for a statement from me. You probably should put some clothes on those adorable curves before he arrives."
There was a knock on the front door, and they both stiffened. "Go," he said, giving her bottom a pat.
Meg hurried up the stairs and quickly found something to wear. She wanted to be by her husband's side when they spoke to him, whoever it was.
She dressed and hurried back down, pausing as she saw who was in the great room. A trooper from the Highway Patrol nodded toward her.
"Hello, ma'am."
"Hello." Moving to sit by Matt, she threaded her fingers through his, waiting.
Matt nodded. "Lieutenant Mason Wallace, my wife, Megan Hart."
She smiled. "Hello, sir."
"I do have a question for you, Mrs. Hart. Your husband said you grew up here in Cape. Since you're the same age as the victim, we wondered if you might have known her."
Meg glanced up at Matt. "What was her name?"
"Chelsea Flynn. Her maiden name was Kirk."
Meg gasped, and a hand flew to her mouth. "Chelsea!" She looked up into Matt's face. "She's the one who didn't come to the reunion."
The lieutenant handed her a photograph, and she nodded, dismayed. "It's her."
"Have you seen her since graduation?"
"No. The group of girls I ran around with in high school all looked for her at the class reunion last week. But she wasn't there. We met for lunch today, and one of the girls had tried to get in touch with Chelsea to invite her. But she wasn't able to locate her."
"I see." He was writing on a notepad and turned to Matt. "Did you see any signs of abuse when you examined her?"
Matt frowned. "I don't know. The burns were severe, to the point we might have missed signs of bruising. I'm sure the autopsy can tell more than we could see today. In the midst of doing life support, we didn't do x-rays in the ER, but they were ordered."
Wallace continued asking a few more questions before putting away his pen and closing the notebook. "I'm sorry to bother you, Dr. Hart. Thank you for all you did to try to save her. Mrs. Hart, if you haven't seen her since graduation, you aren't likely to know anything that would help us, but thank you. We appreciate your time. My wife went to school with her too. You might remember her. She was Stacy Michaels then."
Meg blinked, nodding. "I do. Please tell her hello for me."
"She wasn't able to attend the reunion, but she didn't particularly want to, either. I'll tell her." He rose. "Dr. Hart, if you think of anything else, please call. The coroner will do an autopsy within the next few days. Her family has been notified."
Matt nodded. "I'm sorry."
Wallace turned back as he reached the door. "You did all you could. All of you."
Matt tucked Meg under his arm as they watched the patrolman go.
"Could I fix you something to eat?" she asked quietly.
"I'd like that, sweetheart," he said.
It was Tuesday at four thirty when Scott finished seeing his last patient. Nikki came out of the back carrying three cups of coffee. "Here. I've had my four o'clock slump and I'm dying." She handed one to Meg and one to her husband.
"Thanks, sweet cheeks. I'm headed over to see Matt. He has some news from the coroner on the girl who died over the weekend."
"Her name was Chelsea." Nikki scowled at him.
His response was to raise a brow, before disappearing through the office door.
"I saw that look," Meg whispered. "It's the dead wife look."
Nikki sat down on the stool and took a sip. "He doesn't understand why this shook me up so much. Chelsea and I went all the way through school together."
Meg nodded. "You knew her longer than I did. I only met her in the ninth grade. I'm so sorry, Nikki."
Her friend sighed. "So am I. I wish she'd come to the reunion. At least I could have seen her one last time before…" she trailed off. Both of them sipped their coffee in thoughtful silence.
"Sometimes," Meg said softly, "physicians see so much tragedy, they have to distance themselves from it as a means of self-defense."
"Does Matt do that?"
Meg paused. She had to admit, he didn't. "No, but sometimes I think he'd be better off if he could. He seems to take everything so seriously, so personally. But I've seen my share of doctors who do it, and I think they're better off."
"You're lying."
Meg frowned at her, and Nikki shook her head. "I didn't mean that, I'm sorry."
Meg gave her a hug. "It's okay. Honest. I was trying to make you feel better. But it is true. I've seen it." She glanced at her watch. "I'll get office two and three, and then I have to run."
"Let me, Meg. I need something to do anyway."
Meg studied her. "If you're sure."
"I am. Go. And try to get Matt to share what the coroner said."
Meg nodded as she went to grab her jacket. Nikki was taking Chelsea's death hard.
She made her way over to her husband's office. But the door was closed. Voices rose and fell inside, and she stood outside and waited. She thought there were three people inside, at least.
She stepped back and leaned against the wall. She didn't want to appear as if she was eavesdropping. His nurse had apparently left for the day.
The wall phone rang at her elbow, and Meg jumped. Since there was no staff still there to answer, she picked it up. "Dr. Hart's office, Meg. How may I help you?"
"Hi, Meg. This is Lt. Wallace, from the HP. I need to speak with Dr. Hart, please?"
"He's in a conference at the moment. Can I have him call you as soon as he gets out?"
"Sure."
She jotted down the number he gave her and said a friendly goodbye. But Matt didn't come out right away. She pulled out her phone and sent him a text.
Lt. Wallace called. He needs to speak to you.
The door opened within seconds, and Matt drew her inside. In addition to Scott, there was another man in the room. He looked familiar, but she didn't instantly place him.
Her husband closed the door behind her. "Hi, princess. I didn't realize you were out there. Pierce, meet my wife Meg."
He put out a hand. "Pierce Hicks. Nice to meet you. My wife has been talking about you."
Meg smiled. "You're Heather's husband? Nice to meet you too."
Matt glanced down at her. "When did he call?"
"About five minutes ago. Here's the number."
He took it.
"So where are they taking her?" Scott asked.
"Smith-Hall Funeral Home. I just want you to know, it certainly wasn't my recommendation."
"Good Lord," Scott added.
"I know. My brother-in-law owns it," Pierce declared, holding up his hand. "I swear I had nothing to do with the family's decision. And it doesn't look good. Especially since…" he trailed off, dismayed.
Matt spoke up. "Anyone who knows you will know you had nothing to do with it," he said quietly.
"Thanks, Matt. I just want to avoid the appearance of having a conflict of interest. Or of hiding anything."
"I know."
Pierce sighed. "Well, I have to go. I just wanted you to know what I found. You have the full report. I expect they'll be investigating me soon. Heather is heartbroken about all this. She was really fond of the girl. I don't know if I have the heart to tell her what I found."
Matt spoke up. "I'm so sorry. If I can help at all, let me know."
The coroner held up a hand and departed.
Meg stood there, feeling as if she should say something, but she had no idea what.
Scott frowned. "Well, I'd better go and see if Nicole is still speaking to me. She already thinks I'm a heartless fiend. She's taking this hard, too. Thanks, Matt. Meg, see you tomorrow."
"Thanks for being here," Matt returned. "I suppose I'd better call Wallace."
Meg looked up into her husband's face as the door closed once again. "I don't understand what's going on. What does it say? What does the coroner mean, they'll be investigating him soon?"
Matt pulled her into his lap, He didn't answer immediately but, instead, took out his phone and began to punch in numbers. "You know I can't let you read it, princess. Be still. I need to contact the lieutenant."
Meg waited a moment. The report was right in front of her but not quite close enough to read. If her vision had just been better…
"Wallace? Matt Hart." There was a pause. "Yes, I have it too."
Knowing Matt was distracted, Meg leaned forward, slightly. and picked up the report with trembling hands. Slowly, she made her way down through it.
First, she skimmed the final diagnosis. "Third degree burns covering…" she read, in a whisper. "Circumferential ligature. Petechial hemorrhage on the conjunctival surface—" Meg sat up straight and nearly toppled off his lap. She was gasping, her voice uncontrolled and full of alarm. "She was strangled?"
Matt immediately reached around her from behind to keep her from falling. "Call you back," he said into the phone as he disconnected.
"Megan Savannah," he scolded softly, "come here." He took the report from her shaking hands and turned it upside down, laying it on the desk. Bringing her against him, he wound his hand through her hair and brought her face into his shoulder. Tears were streaming down her face.
"Shh, princess," he whispered.
"She was murdered," she whispered, letting out a muffled sob.
"Yes. There were also drugs in her system, and the burns were likely what caused her death."
Meg shook her head vehemently. "The Chelsea I knew would never do drugs."
He tightened his arms around her. "That's not what I'm saying. Listen to me. All it means is the drugs were present in her system when she died. Apparently, she managed to get away. Someone could have drugged her."
"Oh, dear God. No one should have to die like that."
"No," he added. "No one."
The phone on his desk rang, and he picked it up with his free hand, still holding her to his chest.
"Matt Hart."
"Lt. Wallace. I was going through a woody area, and I lost you."
"No, it was me. I had to step away for a moment. How can I help you?"
"Well, to simplify my request, I have a copy of the coroner's report. But it's all Greek to me, and I wondered if you could translate some of it. I've already spoken to the SOCO from forensics. He only spoke more Greek. I also wanted to show you the rest of the reports we have."
"Sure. The clinic is closed. I can meet you at the house if you like."
"What time?"
Matt glanced at the clock. "Six? It'll give me a few minutes to get Meg something to eat." But Meg was shaking her head. "Meg says no. Let's make it seven, then. See you there." He hung up and looked down at her.
"I'm not hungry," Meg whispered when he hung up.
"We can pick up something for you to eat later, then. I don't want you to feel like you have to go home and cook. Let's go."
He brought her to her feet and picked up the report, folding it and tucking it into his pocket. At the same time, he glanced down at her, one brow raised. "You knew better than to pick that up, princess. You took advantage of me while I was on the phone, didn't you?"
