Whiskey, You're The Devil: An Addison Holmes Mystery (Addison Holmes Mysteries Book 4) (20 page)

“Was she squeezing you for money too?” I asked, trying to divert his attention back to me just in case he was tempted to put a bullet in Rosemarie’s brain.

“No, but I was business partners with Travis and a few other guys on the list. As soon as she started her demands for more money who do you think they started taking it out on. They cut me out of a real estate deal I’d sunk millions into and they were getting ready to cut me out of life completely.”

I unscrewed the bottom of the device and there was a plastic tab covering the place reserved for the batteries. I worked at it with my thumbnail until it popped right off. And sure enough inside was a silver flash drive in place of the batteries.

Sweat snaked down my spine because I knew the moment they had that flash drive in their hands they’d shoot us point blank. And despite my flippant statement a little earlier, I really wasn’t ready to die.

Almost as if my prayers were being answered, all of the lights in the room turned off and there was a few precious seconds of surprised silence before all hell broke loose. I had enough wherewithal to launch myself at Rosemarie and take us both to the floor before bullets started flying.

I choked back a scream as one flew so close to my head that I could feel the heat against my scalp. This was another scenario that hadn’t been covered in my P.I. training. I was starting to think I maybe hadn’t gotten my money’s worth.

My ears rang and my nostrils burned from the acrid smell of gunfire contained in a small room. Then as quick as they’d gone off the lights all turned back on again in and blinding rush, and hands were pulling me from Rosemarie’s grasp. I was too weak to fight them off, and I hoped it was the good guys who’d won once the smoke had cleared.

“Addison,” Nick said, but it sounded like he was far away. I blinked my eyes several times and waited for my eyes to adjust until he came into focus. “Are you all right?”

I read his lips this time because my ears were still ringing something awful. “I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks for rescuing us.”

“Smart move leaving the phone on. Dispatch got it all and was able to trace your location. Added to all the phone calls we got as soon as you were abducted it didn’t take long to mobilize and track you down.”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about this morning. I think I might have overreacted.” I couldn’t tell how loud I was talking, but by the way Nick flinched every time I said a word I was guessing it was pretty loud. Not to mention most of the other cops had stopped what they were doing to listen in on the conversation.

“How’s your head.”

“It’s still attached to my neck. I don’t mean to change the subject, but I don’t remember your hair being that short on one side of your head this morning before you addled my brains.”

I gasped and reached up to touch the side of my head, and sure enough, the hair there was only a couple of inches long. A sob caught in my throat and I kept tugging at the hair, hoping I could somehow make it grow longer in an instant.

“They shot my hair off,” I said pathetically.

“Look on the bright side. It could’ve been your face.”

Epilogue

Friday

I
MEANT TO
go into the agency first thing, but I found myself driving the streets of Savannah, watching joggers and bicyclists dodge each other on the sidewalk and a mugger attempt to snatch a lady’s purse in front of the Walgreen’s. She laid him out flat with an elbow to the face, adjusted her coat, and kept walking like nothing had ever happened.

I’m not sure what propelled me toward the little house Phoebe had just vacated, but the car headed in that direction of its own free will. I took the key from under the mat and let myself inside. I didn’t worry about Spock, Savage, or the other neighbors who might be watching my every move. I just needed to clear my head in a quiet space and think over my options.

Nick’s reaction to the pregnancy test still smarted. I guess I thought if he was committed enough for us to live together then he’d man up enough to stay committed if that accidental pregnancy test had been accurate.

I heard a car door slam from the street, but didn’t give it much thought. It was a busy street and people were always coming and going. But I was surprised to hear the knock on the door and Nick stick his head inside.

“Can I come in?” he asked. His voice was morning deep and stubble was thick on his cheeks. His eyes were tired and a little wary, but I still felt my heart flutter at the sight of him.

“Sure,” I said.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d come and look around. How did you know to find me here?”

“I know you well. And I wanted to say something before you think about moving out and coming back to live here.”

I opened my mouth to deny it and tell him I’d already give it to Rosemarie, but then I realized it might be a good idea to let him sweat a little.

“It’s possible I didn’t handle the pregnancy test situation in the best possible way.”

I arched a brow and crossed my arms under my breasts. “You think?”

“It took me off guard. And I was pissed you decided to hide it from me if you want to know the truth.” He shrugged and I could tell he was uncomfortable with this conversation. Nick wasn’t exactly known for sharing his feelings. Come to think of it, I was starting to think it was a trait all cops shared.

I sighed and dropped my arms down to my sides. “Maybe I overreacted a little. I’m sorry about your head.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile and he moved a little closer. “Its taken worse knocks.” He kept coming until he stood directly in front of me, his body barely touching mine, but enough for me to feel the heat. And then he kissed me and I felt the stress and worry and pain from the week disappear.

I could’ve kissed for hours. Days. Nick was a premium kisser. And when he pulled away I might have grasped a little desperately to his shoulders and tried to pull him back.

“I just wanted to say that I wasn’t myself this week. I had something important on my mind, and it kept growing until it was almost consuming. So just hear me out, okay?”

He was looking a little sick all of a sudden and I was starting to get worried. What if he had a disease or something and was trying to find the best way to tell me he only had six months to live.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, and I saw black spots dance in front of my eyes. My lungs constricted and I realized I wasn’t breathing, so I sucked in a deep breath and stumbled back a step. Nick steadied me by grabbing onto my hands and then he did the unthinkable.

He knelt down in front of me.

“Holy shit. What are you doing?”

Nick barked out a laugh and shook his head, his grasp squeezing my hand once before releasing it. “Only you would say that at a time like this.”

“I’ll be quiet.”

“That would probably be best for the moment. So what do you say, Addison Holmes? Will you marry me?”

My throat closed up and I felt the edge of panic licking across my skin. If I’d been given the choice of picking any scenario that might happen on a Friday morning after I’d been kidnapped and roughed up a bit it never would’ve been this one.

He opened the box and I felt tears prick my eyes. A few months back we’d had to pretend to pick out engagement rings so we could take incriminating photos of another couple. Christian DeLuce was the premier jewelry designer in Savannah, and I recognized the ring right off.

DeLuce’s was known for matching the perfect ring to the bride, and he’d pegged me well by insisting that the caviar-sized pearls surrounded by black diamonds was unique and totally me. He’d been right, and I’d fallen in love with the ring on sight. The fact that Nick remembered made it all the more incredible.

I opened my mouth, hoping the right words would come out, but I think my throat was broken. I coughed once and tried to speak again, but this time it wasn’t me that was the hold up. A knock at the door had Nick swearing.

We both turned toward the door, and I’m sure it was comical to the casual observer—Nick on his knees in front of me and me with a deer in the headlights look on my face.

Nervous laughter bubbled in my throat when I saw Savage standing on the other side of the screen door, but I managed to choke it back.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Savage asked.

About the Author

Liliana Hart is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of more than a thirty books. She lives in Texas in a big rambling house with her laptop and cats, and she spends way too much time on Twitter. She loves hearing from her readers.

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Links to My Other Books

The MacKenzie Series

Dane

A Christmas Wish: Dane

Thomas

To Catch A Cupid: Thomas

Riley

Fireworks: Riley
(Coming January 2015)

Cooper

A MacKenzie Christmas

MacKenzie Box Set
(includes the 5 books listed above)

Cade

Shadows and Silk

Secrets and Satin

Sins and Scarlet Lace

The MacKenzie Security Series (includes the 3 books listed above)

Sizzle

Crave
(Coming March 2015)

The Collective Series

Kill Shot

The Rena Drake Series

Breath of Fire

Addison Holmes Mysteries

Whiskey Rebellion

Whiskey Sour

Whiskey For Breakfast

Whiskey, You’re The Devil

JJ Graves Mysteries

Dirty Little Secrets

A Dirty Shame

Dirty Rotten Scoundrel

Down and Dirty
(Coming December 2nd 2014)

Standalone Novels/Novellas

All About Eve

Paradise Disguised

Catch Me If You Can

Who’s Riding Red?

Goldilocks and the Three Behrs

Strangers in the Night

Naughty or Nice

If you’re a fan of Addison Holmes, then you’ll love J.J. Graves. A new mystery series by
New York Times
Bestselling Author Liliana Hart. DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS, book one in the J.J. Graves Series, is FREE at all retailers.

Fourth generation mortician. That’s a lot of dead bodies.

I thought I’d be proud to carry on the family legacy, but that was before I knew the job would be hell on my social life. I mean, who wanted to date a woman who drained blood on a regular basis and whose scent of choice was embalming fluid?

Sure, I got a little lonely sometimes. It mostly happened when I was preparing a body in the middle of the night instead of snuggled up next to someone warm with a pulse. But dead bodies were my business. And I hated every fucking minute of it. I never wanted to take over the family funeral parlor. I wanted to be a doctor. Well, technically, I was a doctor, but I preferred to be one for the living.

My parents died early last year, and the gossip and scandal involved would have broken someone with a lesser constitution, but I’d managed to hold my head up. Mostly. It was because of my parents that I’d had an impromptu career change. The only thing I had left of them was the crumbling old Victorian I grew up in and Graves Funeral Home—believe me, it was a hell of a legacy.