The Sex On Beach Book Club (5 page)

She liked it. That was a place to start. With the murder occurring not just in the bookstore, but the meeting room of the book club, on the very night of the last book club meeting, it was a logical leap that someone from the book club could be the murderer.

So was Holly really going to take the case? Hell yes. Double the money was a damn good offer, and she needed the money since losing one of her big clients. Her PI business was in the black, and she meant to keep it that way. If she didn't succeed as a PI, that left her nothing. She'd be the failure her mother believed her to be.

But Holly wasn't a failure. She was good at her job and this case was the perfect opportunity to prove it. It wasn't every day that a murder in a locked bookstore came her way. It was the kind of case that would require all her skills. It caught her interest.

As did Wes Brockman. He looked like a rich playboy who had a bookstore as a hobby. But she didn't think that was the full truth. So what was his story?

She looked at the clock in her office. It was just after seven. Wes still hadn't called. He could be tied up or he could have changed his mind. But she had enough to get started on the case if he did call.

It had been a long day. After finding Cullen's body and giving her statement, she had finished up her report on Tanya Shaker and met her client, Phil, at his lawyer's office. Since Cullen Vail was dead, she gave them what she had on Tanya and Cullen. The lawyers decided it was enough to invoke the clause in the prenuptial.

Once she had closed Phil's case, she'd written a report for another client, then she started her research on Cullen. It was time to go home.

After shutting down her computer, Holly gathered her purse and started locking up her office. She was starving, so she ran into the kitchen and grabbed a Milky Way bar from her stash in the small refrigerator. She kept them in an old orange Tupperware container that her brothers wouldn't bother to look in. She tore off half the wrapper, tossed it in the trash, and turned off the light.

Outside, she held the candy bar between her teeth, the scent and taste of chocolate and caramel tormenting her as she pulled the door closed behind her and locked it. Then she grabbed the wrapped end of the bar, took a bite, and turned to walk to her car.

Someone screamed and launched themselves at her. They slammed into her face and chest, shoving Holly back against the wall, where she landed on her butt.
What the hell?
Throwing down the chocolate bar and her purse, she shoved the person off her and jumped to her feet.

“You bitch! You ruined my life!”

This time Holly was ready as the woman sprang at her, trying to grab her hair. Holly turned, caught her arm, and threw her to the ground, wrenching her arm up behind her back. She knew who it was now.

Tanya Shaker.

“Let go of me! I hate you! You had no right to spy on me and Cullen! He loved me!”

The back of Holly's head hurt. She felt warm blood running down her left arm and her Milky Way was smashed on the sidewalk. Damn, she'd really wanted that candy bar. Tugging Tanya's arm up a tad higher, she said, “Shut up and listen, bimbo. You just had your free pass. You get up and stay the hell away from me or I'll have you arrested. You've got five seconds to make up your mind.”

Tanya started to cry.

Holly let go and straightened up. “For the love of God, have some dignity.”

Tanya rolled over, rubbing her shoulder where her arm had been pulled back. “My husband wants a divorce!”

Why were they always surprised? “You were sleeping around on him, honey. Don't do the crime if you can't do the time.” Holly looked sadly at her mashed Milky Way. Should she go back in the office and get another one? Or go home before this day got any worse?

“It wasn't like that! Cullen loved me! And now he's dead!”

“Cut the shit, drama queen.” Seriously, how stupid could she be? “Your knight in shining condoms had a record. He was after you for sex, or maybe money. But it wasn't love.”

Tanya stared up at her with black mascara running down her face. “You're mean.”

“You think?” Holly was fighting an urge to laugh when a male voice startled the crap out of her.

“I would say she's cutting you a break, Tanya. Most people would call the cops and press assault charges.”

She turned around. “Wes.” He wore jeans, a surfing T-shirt, and an intense look in his green eyes that seemed to sink inside of her. What was he doing here? She told him to call, not show up right after she had a minor brawl.

He reached out and took hold of her arm, turning it slightly so he could see the elbow. “You're bleeding.”

“Yeah, but the real tragedy is my candy bar. I don't think I can save it.” She glanced down to see the crime of mushed chocolate and caramel.

“Hey! What about me!” Tanya got to her feet.

Holly looked back at her. “Go stay with a friend. Get drunk, then get up tomorrow and stop screwing up your life.”

“You're a big help,” Tanya said. “I don't even have a job.”

It was the candy bar that made her feel pity, not Tanya. That annoying pity softened the words in her mouth to, “Are you going to look for a job?”

Tanya made some weird faces as she struggled to unglue the drying mascara on her eyelashes. Finally she blinked. “Guess I'll have to.”

Clearly, chocolate deprivation was making her hypoglycemic. “I'll ask around to see if anyone I know is hiring. Call my office tomorrow.” Now why had she said that? Why was she helping this bimbo?

Maybe because she recognized a woman so desperate for attention she wanted to believe that Cullen loved her?

Tanya stood up straight. “Really? Okay! I'll call you tomorrow. And, uh, I'm sorry for attacking you. Sort of.”

“Next time, wait until I've eaten my candy bar.”

Tanya nodded very seriously then wandered off. Holly sighed and said to Wes, “Do you think she's okay to drive? I suppose I could give her a ride home or wherever she's going.”

He still had a hold on her arm. “She'll be fine. She really attacked you?”

Her brain finally engaged. “Get over it, Brockman.” She yanked her arm from his hold. “You know I'm a PI. It's not always a pretty business.” Or dainty, feminine, or classy.

He dropped his arm to his side, but kept his gaze tuned to her. “Amazing.”

She hated feeling defensive. Holly liked who she was and she didn't have to explain it to the rich book boy. “What?” Why did she even ask?

“You still have the chip on your shoulder. Takes more than a body slam to knock that off, huh?”

She'd have smacked him but his grin was just too damn sexy. “It's my Milky Way. I really wanted that Milky Way.”

Wes glanced down at the sidewalk. “Lost cause, Hillbay.”

She had to agree. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to call me, assuming you still wanted to hire me.”

He stepped closer. “Consider yourself hired.”

H
olly led Wes through the garage door to her kitchen and set her purse and keys down on the counter. Her galley kitchen wasn't very big, but Wes's presence made it seem smaller. Having him in her condo reminded her that she'd gone to his bookstore this morning to invite him over this evening for a night of pizza and sex.

Instead, they were going to work on a murder case. Better for her career, but Holly had a sneaking suspicion that her libido was pouting.
Stupid, slutty hormones.

She went to the refrigerator. “Want a beer? Maybe a sandwich?” They were here to work, so why was she trying to feed him? She had suggested they go to her house so she could change her shirt after her scuffle with Tanya, and then they could get to work.

He moved up behind her. “Still not over the Milky Way, are you?”

His warm breath skittered down her bare neck since she had her hair clipped up on her head. “No. I'm starving.”

He looked over her shoulder. “Not much in here from the look of things. Yogurt, apples, bread, chocolate milk, beer, eggs.” He reached past her and pulled open the meat drawer. “Cheese and ham. I can work with that.” He closed the drawer then put his chin on the curve of her neck and shoulder. “Go take a shower, or whatever women do after they've finished wrestling, and I'll make something to eat.”

She twisted away from him, ready to insist she was fine the way she was. Then it hit her—damn, he was right about the chip on her shoulder. Between this morning when he'd been shocked, maybe appalled, to find out she was an ex-cop, and then him catching her taking down Tanya made her feel defensive. It was stupid. Forcing a smile, she said, “Thanks. I'll just be ten minutes. Make yourself at home.” She slid past him, went out of the kitchen and down to her bedroom.

Automatically, Holly turned on the TV mounted on the wall opposite her king-sized bed to a movie channel. Her bedroom was painted a pale green that didn't clash with the hunter green bedspread. That was pretty much the extent of her ability to decorate. Otherwise she had a serviceable dresser and nightstands made out of oak. On the dresser was a twenty-year-old picture of her family. It had been the last family picture taken before her mom left them. She opened a drawer to get out a pair of panties and wondered why she kept the picture.

To remind her that she had never been the daughter her mom wanted?

Holly grabbed the panties and slammed the drawer shut. She gathered up a spaghetti-strap T-shirt and a pair of shorts then headed to the bathroom.

Getting under the warm shower spray, she washed off the blood and her long day as quickly as possible. Leaving her hair wet, she pulled on her clothes and brushed her teeth. After dragging a comb through her hair, she left it down and hurried back out to the kitchen.

Wes was at her stove, whistling a tune as he lifted two sandwiches from a flat skillet. He picked up the plates. “Good timing.”

In her bare feet, she walked up to him. “Grilled cheese?”

“Grilled ham and cheese. With potato chips and apple slices. Take these to the table.” He handed the plates to her.

Her stomach rumbled loudly. She took the plates and went to the table at the end of the kitchen.

Wes opened the freezer and got out two bottles of beer, then followed her to the table. She sat down and said, “Guess you like your beer cold.”

He took a seat next to her, then opened one bottle and handed it to her.

She took a drink and had to admit that it tasted icy and perfect. “Thanks.”

As he opened his bottle, he asked, “Did you put antiseptic on your elbow?”

Holly bit into her sandwich. It tasted almost as good as the beer. “No. It's just a scratch. I'm going to need the names and contact information for all the members of your book club.” She told him the preliminary research she'd done on Cullen.

Wes appeared thoughtful as he chewed an apple slice. “I have a copy of the list I gave to the police with me. But wouldn't Cullen have recognized someone he swindled?”

She shrugged. “Depends. He could have worked with a partner so he might not have met all the victims in person. The woman could have changed her looks. Or he did recognize her and thought she didn't recognize him. Or he just didn't care. There are numerous possibilities.” She had another theory, a simpler one. “It's also possible that the murder is not tied to his past crime, but one of the women in the book club got pissed off enough to kill him after he dumped her.”

Wes finished his sandwich and pushed his plate back. “That's possible. But how did they get into my store?”

“Either Cullen or the killer had a key and the alarm code. They're not that hard to get. They could have picked the lock, but it's easier to steal a key, or in Cullen's case, talk one of your employees into making him a copy.”

He shook his head. “Kelly and Jodi wouldn't do that.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “Didn't you say they're young? In college? Wes, they didn't betray you, they fell for Cullen's charm. And when we talk to them once they get back, they'll tell us.”

He pulled his mouth tight. “You seem so sure.”

“I am. But I could be wrong. I'm more concerned with why someone wanted to kill Cullen in your bookstore then how they got in there.” She looked down at her empty beer bottle, trying to see it. “It could have been sheer opportunity. They knew they'd be alone with Cullen, late at night, no one would likely hear the shots. But they reset the alarm and locked the bookstore.” That had been swirling in her brain all day.

Wes sat up straight. “You're saying it's personal?”

Holly didn't know yet. “I'm saying it's something to keep in mind. Are you sure you and Cullen didn't both date the same woman?”

“Positive.”

She stared at him. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I haven't dated anybody in a while.”

She shut her mouth before she asked him why not. She hadn't dated much because she'd been busy with work. She moved on. “It could have been simple opportunity, but then we're dealing with someone who kept their wits about them after committing murder.” Holly stood up, collected the plates, and went into the kitchen to load them in the dishwasher. “Let's see the list of the book club members. We'll start with the ones that Cullen dated, the ones you know of, anyway. And we'll talk to your clerks.”

Wes stood, pulled a sheet of paper from his front jeans pocket. “The first five names are the women Cullen dated. The rest don't seem to be connected to him at all.”

Holly closed the dishwasher and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Good. There's a chance one of them is the murderer and we will solve this quickly.”

Wes gathered up the beer bottles and walked toward her. Holly opened the door beneath the sink where she kept the trash. Wes dumped the bottles in, then stood up. He was inches from her. “You believe me, don't you?”

His green eyes had hard points of yellow, and he leaned slightly toward her. Needing her answer. Needing something from her. Something she might not be able to give him. That caused her stomach to tighten, her shoulders and neck to tense. “That you're not the killer? Yes, I believe you.” She kept her voice cool. “The double fee you're paying me is very convincing.” She wanted him to know she was all about work. Money. Tangible success. Solving cases. Those were the things that made sense to her, where she could understand what was expected from her and provide them.

He closed his eyes for a brief second, then opened them. “You're telling me that you follow the money?”

She hated this. There was some underlying emotion or need in his question. But she couldn't grasp it and didn't want to. How was it that she'd known him for a day and a half and already the usually thick, bold black lines that kept her life clean from emotional issues were blurring? “I have bills to pay, Brockman. Most people do.”

She turned away, grabbed a bottle of dish soap to wash the pan he'd used to grill the sandwiches. All she had wanted was a night, or even a couple nights, of sex. Uncomplicated sex. Sure, she liked a man's arms around her, liked the slide of his body pressed up against hers. The scent of a man when his skin was hot with desire and slick with sweat. Sex was about pleasure and maybe a little comfort, where no one got hurt.

She could have had that with Wes, she was pretty sure, if they hadn't found a murdered body in his bookstore. The shock and trauma seemed to have ripped away a cool layer from Wes, the layer that projected easy playboy charm. Now he was more exposed, vulnerable. She stuck the pan under the stream of water to rinse the soap off and refused to feel bad for telling him the truth. She did work for money.

The fact that she didn't believe he had killed Cullen had nothing to do with money and everything to do with her observations mixed with instinct. Wes had clearly wanted Holly to stay with him last night, and that led her to believe he had not set up a plot to lure Cullen to his bookstore to murder him.

Wes wasn't stupid, she knew that for sure. He wouldn't have killed Cullen in his own locked bookstore. Or if he had, he'd probably have called the cops right away and claimed Cullen broke in and the murder was self-defense. Plus, she had been with Wes when they found the body. He'd been solely focused on her until he realized the door to the meeting room was shut. So many little things…

Yeah. She believed in him but she wasn't going to make a big thing out of it. It was business.

Wes took the pan from under the stream of running water. “It's rinsed.” He picked up the dish towel she had set down and dried the pan.

Holly realized she had stood there staring out the small window into the black night. Shutting off the water, she took the dried pan from Wes and put it away. Then she went back to the counter to pick up the list and study it.

 

Bridget O'Hara

Nora Jacobson

Maggie Partlow

Helene Essex

Tanya Shaker

 

Seeing Tanya's name, she said, “I followed Tanya all the way home last night and saw her go into the house. I waited around for twenty minutes and saw the living room light go out, and a light go on in the back of the house. My sense was that she was in for the night, but we'll talk to her again. Maybe she knows what Cullen was doing at the bookstore after she left him.” She was really irritated that she hadn't asked Tanya that after their scuffle earlier.

Wes folded the towel. “Is that why you offered to help find her a job? Befriending her so she'll confide in you?”

Holly glanced up. “I would have if I had thought of it.”

Wes cracked a grin.

She tried to ignore the warmth his smile sparked inside her and looked down at the list. “Nora is the one who said the anthology was about more than sex…something about the relationship building during mysterious circumstances.”

“That's her, and the two women sitting by her were Maggie and Helene. The three of them have recently bonded.”

“Like the Dumped By Cullen club?” She remembered their reaction to Cullen in the book club meeting.

“That'd be my guess. Bridget, the first one on the list and the first one I realized Cullen was dating, she talks to anyone. She doesn't seem to be part of the Helene/Nora/Maggie clique.”

“Okay, I'll talk to Tanya when she calls. First thing in the morning I'll track down Helene and I'll work backwards. I'll need to talk to your two clerks, as well.” Holly turned to walk out of the kitchen and made a left into her home office. She set the list down on her desk, then stepped back.

And bumped into Wes's chest. He put his arms around her, lowered his face to her nearly dry hair, and inhaled. “I've wanted to do this all night. You look hot, Holly. Sexy. Shorts that reveal your long legs, no bra beneath the top.”

He changed so suddenly, she could barely get her breath. “You're my client now. I—”

“Shut up.” He moved his mouth down over her ear, into the curve of her neck. His mouth was warm, his breath hot. Her nerve endings sizzled, her body felt soft and tight with need at the same time. She should stop this. “Wes—”

He slid one hand down her side, cupped her hip, and pulled her back into his groin to feel his hard dick straining against his pants. “I'm not going to listen to logic. Not tonight.” He slid one thin strap down her arm.

It was hard to think with his mouth moving over her shoulder and his hard dick pressing into her backside. So she drew her line. “This is just sex.”

“Oh yeah. Sex. Making love. Screwing. Call it whatever you want.” He moved his left hand to slide her ribbed cotton top over her nipple. His right hand went down to her thigh. “Just as long as I get to do this.” His fingers skimmed up her thigh, under her shorts, under the elastic of her panties.

Holly wasn't worrying about word choices anymore. She leaned back, farther into him, giving him better access. Turning her head, she reached up to bring his mouth to hers. He tasted like beer and pure wet heat. She wanted more instantly, and slid her tongue over his, then deeper to taste all of him.