Free Under the Covers by Rita Herron

forms of sexual contact lay propped against a wooden desk. A couple lying side by side, not touching, simply staring into each other's eyes. A man tracing his finger over a woman's soft, pouty lower lip. Another man with his lips pressed to a woman's long, slender thigh.
    He jerked at his collar, perspiration trickling down his back as he studied the other poses. A woman poised with her head thrown back, long hair flowing down her back, her bare breasts jutting forward in offering. A man leaning over a woman's voluptuous body, their naked bodies tangled together. This was the Abby Jensen he'd expected.
    Her heart-shaped face floated into his mind and replaced the sketches. He imagined her naked body tangling with his own. Her supple curves, the contours of her hips as she arched her back—
    No, he was a breast man, not a butt man. Why would he be imagining her hips?
    A cat screeched somewhere in the background, jerking him back to reality. Irritated with himself, he dragged his gaze from the artwork and surveyed what little he could see of the rest of the house through the curtainless window. Clothes, shoes, papers, and books littered the floor, a dozen file folders were strewn across a computer desk, and a lamp lay on its side. Gold candy wrappers dotted the mess. It looked as if the house had been ransacked.
    His pulse leaped. What if there had been a burglary? Was the intruder still there?
    He craned his neck to investigate further but spotted no sign of life or movement—only boxes and more items scattered haphazardly through the front hall.
    Hmm. What exactly had happened at the doctor's house? Had she just moved in or was she packing up to move away now? Maybe she was going somewhere in a hurry.
    He jangled his keys as he jogged down the steps to his car. Then he sped off and headed toward the arts center.
    * * *
    Midnight shadows hugged the walls as Abby finally returned to her house.
    She had searched the old apartment, but Lenny had obviously taken any financial and business data with him. She had, however, found several pairs of women's panty hose and garters that didn't belong to her.
    If he hadn't revealed his sexual preference in his kiss-off letter, she would have thought he'd had a woman on the side. Now she realized he'd probably bought the undergarments for himself or his lover.
    What had she become—a magnet for cross-dressers? Gays? Men confused about their sexuality? Not that there was anything wrong with gay men or women, but... she must be putting out the wrong vibes.
    Exhausted, she pulled into her driveway, hit the automatic garage-door opener, and coasted inside. But as she climbed out, she noticed a dark SUV across the street. She turned for a brief moment and thought she saw someone inside.
    Could a reporter be sitting outside? Or could it be the police—had they found a connection between Tony and Lenny?

Chapter 5

     
    Hot Lips
     
    Victoria wet her lips with her tongue, a case of nerves attacking her. She would rather face a ruthless judge or a notorious criminal than go on a date. In fact, she should be home working now.
    But Abby needed her, so she would go through with the evening.
    Stefan Suarez, a detective with the Atlanta Police Department, stalked toward her, his dark Latino looks even more appealing in the white button-down shirt and gray slacks he'd chosen to wear. Damn, he was what Chelsea would call a hot tamale.
    She clutched the edge of the checkered tablecloth, the scents of Mama Mia's famous Italian food fading as Stefan neared. His aftershave or cologne, whatever he wore, smelled like sex and sin and male, deadly combinations that destroyed the salutation she'd been practicing all day.
    "I'm glad you finally returned my call." He slid into the booth across from her, his piercing brown gaze raking over her with appreciation.
    "I ..." I have no idea what to say. "I wasn't sure I would call you back."
    He studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes serious and unnerving, giving