Authors: MA Comley
Virtual Justice |
DI Lorne Simpkins [7] |
MA Comley |
UK (2013) |
VIRTUAL JUSTICE
M A Comley
OTHER BOOKS BY
M A COMLEY
Cruel Justice
Impeding Justice
Final Justice
Foul Justice
Guaranteed Justice
Ultimate Justice
Torn Apart
Sole Intention
Sole Intention 2
(yet to be named due out Jan 2014)
A Time To Heal
A Time For Change
It’s A Dog’s Life
High Spirits
A Twist in The Tale
Merry Widow
If you fancy something a little
saucy
why not pick up one of the short erotic stories I have written under the name of Tiffany Towers
http://tiffanytowers1.blogspot.fr/
Keep in touch with the author at:
http://melcomleyromances.blogspot.com
This book is dedicated to my rock, Jean and Nic, the two people dearest to me.
Special thanks to my wonderful editor Stefanie Spangler Boswell, I’d be lost without you.
Thanks to Karri Klawiter for the wonderful cover, you’re a very talented lady.
PROLOGUE
K
aren had preened and posed for hours, making sure every wrinkle was out of her suit and every hair was set firmly in place. She stood outside the designated rendezvous, waiting for her date to arrive. She shook her head, still unable to believe that she was meeting a man, in the flesh, for a
date.
For the past year, she’d been off the market. Her last encounter with the opposite sex had been a total disaster. She’d fallen in love with Paul the minute she’d laid eyes on him at the nightclub, but she’d taken a while to realise he’d only been attracted to her through a drunken haze. He’d finally pointed this fact out to her during a ferocious argument a month or so into their ill-fated relationship.
His words had been so vehement during their last argument that the memory still caused her to close her eyes in shame as she constantly relived the awful moment, even a year later. That day, he’d kicked her out onto the streets with nowhere to go. She had foolishly relinquished her flat and moved in with him within a week of meeting him—within a week. She’d never considered that he would be saddled with debt. She’d been shocked when he’d held out his hand, expecting her to pay
all
his bills while his wages mostly went towards his suped-up car or drunken nights out with his childish friends. Why did she let men treat her that way? More to the point, why had she let
Paul
treat her that way?
Never again. Not this time.
It’d taken her a long time to get over that encounter, and she intended to enjoy her newfound confidence. She had no intention of rushing into another relationship this time. No, this time, she was going to be patient and hold on tight to her feelings.
She gasped as the car drew into the car park. Her thoughts turned to the evening ahead, hoping her date would help ease the pain of the past and teach her to live her life to the maximum once more—and to be happy and content, which she’d never really been in her thirty-three years on this earth.
The man locked his vehicle and strolled towards her. He was approximately a foot taller than her, around the six-feet mark. Paul had been a lot shorter.
Stop it! Paul is the past. This man could be your future. Stop thinking like that and just enjoy the evening.
Morris Trotter shook hands with her before he tentatively kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Hello, Karen. It’s wonderful to meet you at last.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, too, Morris, finally.”
“Shall we?” Morris tucked her arm under his, and when they entered the pub, the locals didn’t bother to look their way. He guided her to the only available table, which happened to be tucked away in an alcove off to the left. Karen sat down and smiled nervously at him. “What would you like to drink?”
“Oh, a gin and tonic would be lovely. Thank you.”
As he walked up to the bar, she watched his movements, including the way he leaned on the bar and ran a hand through his thick hair as he patiently waited his turn to be served. His photo hadn’t done him justice at all. He was far more handsome in real life, and he seemed to be a real gentleman, too, from the way he’d treated her so far. She was still in a daydream when he returned.
“What are you thinking?” His eyes crinkled up at the corner when he smiled.
She liked that. In fact, she liked everything about this man. All he’d done so far was buy her a drink, but that in itself was some feat in most men’s books. “I wasn’t aware I was thinking anything really. Just enjoying the atmosphere and the company,” she told him, feeling heat creep into her cheeks.
“That makes two of us. I think we’re going to get on like the proverbial house on fire. Cheers.” He touched his glass against hers and gave her another dazzling smile that made her legs shake.
Another word of caution ran through her fuzzy brain.
Stop it! Don’t go falling for him. Play it cool.
During the next couple of hours, Karen batted away the insistent comments and questions from her inner voice.
She saw no need to have any kind of reservations. Morris Trotter appeared to be a gentleman of honour, whom she had already concluded she wouldn’t mind knowing more about. The evening was filled with comical anecdotes of his job as an accountant, which she’d always thought was the world’s most boring profession, filled with equally boring people. At the end of the evening, he took her arm in his and asked if she fancied a walk down by the river.
The March air was fresh but a long way off being cold. “I’d love to.”
They chatted as they strolled. The gentle lapping of the water and the ducks happily quacking guided them through the moonlight along the riverbank.
Unexpectedly, twenty minutes into the walk, he stopped and turned her to face him. “Mind if I do this?” He kissed her.
Fireworks erupted in her brain, and her heart quickly followed suit. His kiss was gentle but urgent as his tongue searched deep inside her mouth. Her knees weakened, and within seconds, she collapsed against his strong chest, longing for more. She was lost in a world she had never thought existed. She’d certainly never been kissed like that before.
He pulled away and held her face between his hands, not speaking, simply taking in every inch of her features. Again, her cheeks burned beneath his powerful gaze. Self-conscious, she wanted to pull away from his grasp, except she couldn’t. She loved the attention.
He lowered his head and brushed her lips with his, then whispered in her ear, “Close your eyes.”
At first, her embarrassment wouldn’t allow her to do as he’d asked. But then she gave an imaginary shrug, and her internal voice said,
What the heck!
Her eyes fluttered shut as she waited for his lips to take hers again. He groaned, and then she felt his warm fingers tickle the front of her neck. She groaned in response as her ecstasy increased beneath his touch. She felt his fingers lace around her slim, flushed neck. They moved down to her exposed décolletage and slowly slid back up under her chin. His hands burned her flesh, sending chills shooting down her spinal cord. His hands massaged and moulded her flesh, and his groans grew louder. She sensed that, at any second, his hands would search out the swell of her breasts. Instead, his grip tightened around her throat.
Her eyes shot open in panic. His grin had turned sinister, and an angry glint coloured his hazel eyes. She tried to speak, but the pressure on her throat proved to be too strong.
“How foolish of you. How bloody foolish you are to think that any man would find such ugliness attractive.”
Again, she tried to speak, to refute his demeaning words. She wasn’t ugly, or was she? Was that really how men perceived her? She wriggled, but his grip held her firmly in place. Fearing for her life, she struck out with her arms, rotating them like a windmill, trying desperately to get out of his stranglehold.
“It won’t work. It never does. You all succumb in the end. Resist the urge to fight and accept your punishment.”
Karen’s breath was cut off from her lungs. A weakness she had never known existed took hold. This weakness was totally different from the one she had experienced only moments before. Happy childhood memories of family holidays and building sandcastles with her sister ran through her mind. She clung to those recollections as the light-headedness overwhelmed her and the final breath left her body.
CHAPTER ONE
L
orne hid around the corner of the kennels and watched her daughter’s interaction with the new dog. She was so caught up in her covert operation that she neglected to hear the person who had snuck up on her.
“What are you up to?”
She turned sharply to face her husband, Tony. She raised a finger to her lips. “Ssh…I’m spying on Charlie.”
Tony shook his head. “If she finds out, she’ll hit the roof. You know she hates you sneaking around, watching her. With good reason, too. She’s been brilliant since she started working here full-time.”
Lorne placed her back against the wall and glanced down at the ground, feeling embarrassed that she’d been caught out. “You’re right. I should trust her more. Actually, it’s not really a trust issue I have with her. It’s more like concern. Since Dad’s death, she’s been a little withdrawn, don’t you think?”
“That’s to be expected, hon. She was close to her granddad. We all were. However, you can’t fault the way she cares for the dogs, can you?”
“I don’t think I can. No.”
“Then stop worrying and give me a kiss.”
He lifted her chin and brushed his lips against hers. She felt the familiar stirrings start to take hold as he gathered her in his arms and their kiss deepened. They leapt apart when they heard Charlie complain as she passed by.
“Get a room, you two, for God’s sake.”
Lorne and Tony laughed at the teenager’s obvious disgust. Laughing felt good. The grieving they had all suffered over the past three months had left them feeling a little shell-shocked. Lorne suspected that the process would have gone on for months to come if not for Tony’s brilliant support. She was delighted to see that her daughter’s recovery from her near-fatal car crash hadn’t hindered her too much. When Lorne’s father had passed away, Charlie had assured her, whilst recovering from a temporary paralysis of her legs, that she would help out more around the animal rescue centre. So far, Charlie had been true to her word.
Lorne assumed that her daughter’s caring for the dogs had helped her get over both her grandfather’s surprise death and the accident in which a close friend had lost his life. The thought had occurred to Lorne that maybe Charlie saw her recovery as a second chance at life after righting all the wrongs she had done in her young life. At eighteen, Charlie seemed to have a new determination running through her, along with a mellowing of nature.
With Charlie coming to terms with her grandfather’s death so well, Lorne was upset that her own grown-up sister, Jade, had found the grieving process so hard to handle. Her husband, Luigi, was, by all accounts, at the end of his tether. Italians were notorious for having short fuses, and that should have been a warning sign for Jade at the beginning of their relationship. After three months of Jade’s wallowing in self-pity, Luigi had finally told her to buck up or ship out. He’d informed Jade that he could no longer cope with doing eighty or more hours at his demanding export service and
then
having to come home to look after their two young boys. Jade’s depression was getting out of hand, and Lorne knew she needed to step in to help save her sister’s marriage. She had made an appointment with a psychiatrist to help Jade’s recovery, and they had a meeting to attend at three o’clock that afternoon.