Blue moon - By Lori Handeland Page 0,40

heated flesh. These were followed by the tactile memory of soft fur, a smooth tongue. A man and a beast become one - or had that been a woman and a beast?

The doorbell rang and I started. I was rolling the totem between two fingers like a worry bead. The stone was warm. I dropped the icon back down my shirt as if it were on fire.

Woman and beast? That was a bit too kinky for comfort, and my mind shied away from the thought.

Cadotte stood in the hall with a pizza. I was so hungry I wanted to eat them both. What was wrong with me? Nothing that a little pizza and a lot of sex wouldn't solve.

"I met the delivery boy coming up."

"I'll pay you." I opened the door wide, inviting him in.

"Yeah, you will." He crowded me close, kicked the door shut, then kissed me - hard, deep, and wet.

Maybe sex, then pizza was a better idea.

He stepped back and tilted his head. "There, all paid up."

"With one kiss?"

"You're a very good kisser."

I was left standing stunned in the hall when he strode into the apartment. I got so few compliments, and I'd never received one on how well I kissed. I had no idea what to say.

I wasn't required to say anything. By the time I reached the sofa, he had his mouth full of food. He'd brought wine. I got him a glass and a corkscrew.

"You don't drink?" He eyed the single glass.

"I have to work in four hours."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Sure I drink."

I'd rarely met a cop who didn't, unless at one time they'd overindulged and were now on the wagon.

Police work, even in a tiny town like Miniwa, was stressful. Cops drank. Period. A lot of them smoked, too. Or did chew, like Clyde. Thankfully I'd been able to manage my stress, so far, with the occasional Bloody Mary and a twilight swim.

"I suppose working third shift makes a beer at the end of your day a lot less than appealing." He opened the wine.

I'd never thought of it that way, but Cadotte was right. When I got off at 7:00 a.m. I didn't want alcohol; I didn't even want coffee. I just wanted my bed. Although if I kept having weird dreams, pretty soon I wouldn't want that.

"Mmm." Cadotte had his mouth full again, so I joined him.

Fifteen minutes later we were done. Cadotte scooted back on the couch, half-full glass of blood-red wine cradled in his long fingers. His thumb stroked the bowl and I lifted my gaze from his hand to his face.

He took a sip. A drop clung to his lip, and his tongue swept out to capture it. His earring glittered in the glare of the setting sun. I wanted to take that earring in my teeth and tug him into the bedroom.

"Shall we get down to business?"

"Mmm-hmm," I murmured, captivated by the way the light turned the golden feather from red to orange and back again.

"Do you have the totem?"

"Huh?"

He smiled and set his glass on the coffee table with a click. Cadotte knew the effect he had on women and I found myself wondering: Was he playing me to get to the totem?

Paranoid? Moi?

Definitely.

Nevertheless, I straightened, shook off the sexual inertia, and turned away. "It's gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"Disappeared? Stolen? Poof? Take your pick."

I was getting mighty good at lying.

He got so quiet, if I hadn't heard him breathing I might have thought he'd gone over the balcony- - this time in the opposite direction.

"Oh well," he said at last. "I guess it's a good thing I sketched it."

Paper crinkled and I spun around. He leaned over the coffee table, smoothing a white rectangle. Then he pulled a bunch of other papers from his back pocket and set them all side by side.

"Y-you aren't upset about the totem?"

He glanced up. He'd put on his glasses. My heart went ba-boom. "Upset? Why should I be? It wasn't mine."

"Wasn't mine, either," I grumbled.

He studied me for a moment. "What happened?"

I didn't think I should tell him about the evidence room fiasco. Clyde would say that was police business, and since I was in enough trouble with Clyde already, I decided to keep my lips zipped on the subject.

"I really can't say."

"You're in trouble?"

I was, so I nodded. Cadotte beckoned, then patted the sofa at his side. "Come here."

My paranoia seemed just that in the face of his lack of concern over the