He laid his head on the pillow, tried to stop himself from obsessing over the case, but he couldn’t.
“Guy Chenkus got the false passport info from Cary Newburg,” Luciano began. “Newburg has to be getting his information from someone. Is that person working with someone in the Haqazzii terror cell or is there a go-between? How big is this network?”
She dipped down and kissed his cheek. “Turn your head the other way, so your neck doesn’t get stiff.”
After he did, she rubbed his traps before massaging his glutes. “That feels amazing. You’ve got the hands of a goddess.”
“All for you,” she murmured and started rubbing the back of his thigh. “You’ve got a great butt. Very muscular. Great legs too.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“I love that.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m your baby. My heart is happy, but the anger is consuming me.”
“That’s good. We’re going to need it when we unleash it on the devil.”
She grew silent.
“Simone?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think there’s a crime ring in the government?” he asked.
She stilled for a few seconds before resuming her rubbing. “When you put it like that, yeah, it’s possible.”
“How far up do you think it goes?”
“Far enough so that these terrorists are sailing into the country with real passports and believable aliases.”
“What’s the connection between them and The Bomb Maker?” he asked.
“No shop talk. Try to relax.”
Relax? I never relax.
He continued running through questions without answers, trying to follow an invisible trail that led to the guilty.
The massage continued for much longer than he’d anticipated. He figured she’d rub him for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. When she got off him and told him to roll onto his back, he glanced at the time. She’d been at it for over forty-five minutes.
She was laser-focused on whatever area she was working on. While rubbing his biceps, her eyebrows pinched together, then she’d spend a few seconds chewing on the inside of her cheek. Was she thinking about this case… a case with no viable suspects who was taunting law enforcement and hiding in plain sight?
“Talk to me about Jerod,” Luciano said.
“He and I worked a few cases when I was with the Bureau and he was an agent with ATF. We got along well, became work friends. I saw him at Peter’s dinner party. We had lunch at Rudy’s?—”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“I told him I was the agent who went after The Bomb Maker and lived.” Her gaze found his. “You’re not thinking?—”
“Check him,” he replied. “He looked familiar, but I’d never met him before tonight.”
“I’ll see what I can find.” Simone finished by caressing his foot. “I hope you liked your little massage.”
“Thank you. That was amazing.” He patted the mattress next to him. “Sleep, Simone. We’ve got time for a nap.”
“Not yet,” she said. “Now, you get a happy ending.”
A bolt of heat shot through him. “You’re taking very good care of me.”