Black Dog Security- Complete 5-Part Series

by Camilla Blake

  “Oh! Okay! Hold on one second.” Her line clicked and a few minutes later, it clicked back on and there was another ringing sound. “I’m getting Devon on. He told me that if you called, I had to put him on, too.”

  “Sammie, I just needed an address.”

  “Doesn’t matter. He wanted—”

  “Hello?”

  “Devon! It’s Sammie. Elizabeth just called and needs a favor.”

  “Oh, shit. Who do we need to take out?”

  “No one! It’s nothing serious. I was just wondering what Paul Porter’s address was.” I said it as nonchalantly as I could and hoped for the best.

  “What?”

  “Why?”

  “Yeah—why?”

  I sighed. “Guys, I just need it for something. It’s nothing crazy.”

  Sammie’s line clicked again and a few seconds later, it clicked back. “Okay. We’ll give you his address.”

  “What did you just do? Did you click over and say something to Devon?”

  “No!”

  I shook my head. “Sammie, whatever. I know you’re lying. I’ll pester you about it later. Do you have the address?”

  “I’ll ignore how rude you’re being and give you the address.”

  Devon piped in. “Yeah, you’re being awfully rude.”

  “The address is 897 Chester Road.”

  “Thanks, Sammie.” I hesitated. “What’s the catch?”

  She scoffed. “You act like we’re not your best friends. You’re really being hurtful tonight.”

  “Yeah, you’re being a real brat.”

  I hailed a cab and climbed in, pressing the phone into my chest while giving the driver Paul’s address. Once he was driving, I put the phone back to my ear and sighed. “Sorry, guys. I’ll make it up to you. Talk to you later!”

  I felt bad and realized that I owed them both. They’d been worried about me and I’d been so sick with everything going on that I hadn’t given them any attention.

  I had to figure out what happened to Paul, though. Especially after all that Cody had told me. He’d been talkative when I got back to the table. I’d been worried that he’d see my messed-up makeup, but he hadn’t noticed it at all. He spoke to my chest for the rest of the night and never asked me any questions about myself. It was a horrible date, but perfect for what I needed.

  Paul Porter kept a list of the women he slept with, including a newer woman. An older woman that he referred to as his big fish. Cody said that he and another friend had been pressuring Paul to tell them who the big fish was. Paul had never been secretive before, but he’d been about to tell them, Cody was sure.

  Cody and the other friend were supposed to meet Paul at his house the weekend after he was found dead. They’d had plans to go over the list and do some comparisons. Cody had been eager to find out who the big fish was, because she was apparently kinky as hell. They wanted to know who the freak was.

  If Helena had found out about Paul’s list, she would’ve snapped. She made a big deal of her reputation. She was the perfect woman, wife, and businesswoman. She had everything. Being outed by some lowly salesperson was not in her cards, I was sure. Especially for some of the things that Cody said Paul told them, some of the things I’d seen myself.

  So, there I was, on my way to Paul’s house. I was going to find that list. It was proof that I needed. It didn’t prove that Helena killed him, but it connected them. I was willing to break into his house to prove that connection.

  I leaned back in the seat and blew out a rough breath. I’d been “on” all night with Cody. The only time I’d been relaxed had been when I was with Branson. Not that I could really call all of that time relaxing. That kiss had been anything but.

  It wasn’t fair that he could kiss me like that, like I’d never been kissed before. I wanted to crawl at his feet and beg for more kisses, but he’d been so unsupportive about my investigation. I needed someone supportive. Well. I didn’t need anyone. It was probably hard to explain to potential partners that you were playing private investigator.

  When the cab pulled up at the curb of Paul’s house, I paid and stepped out. Only when the cab was driving away and I was alone did I think about how dangerous what I was doing was. Not because of the potential jail time, but because of the situation. If Helena hadn’t murdered Paul, someone else had done it after he’d left her. Probably around the very spot I was standing. I shivered.

  Lucky for me, I believed that Helena was the killer, though.

  Still, I tiptoed around the sidewalk, hoping that I wasn’t stepping on any of the places were Paul’s body had been. Just when I was almost at the front door, rustling came from the tall bushes next to me and I almost screamed bloody murder.

  I would’ve if Devon hadn’t slapped his hand over my mouth. He rushed out of the bushes with Sammie and they both giggled. I shoved Devon away from me and stomped my foot.

  “You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

  “That’s what you get for being such a bitch on the phone.” Devon looked around and shook his head. “God, it is really not fair how much salesmen get. Look at this house.”

  Sammie nodded. “It’s such shit. How big do you think this yard is? Look at how far away the neighbors are.”

  “Thank God. If they were any closer, they would’ve heard you fools by now. I’m trying to be sneaky. Look at you both. You’re both wearing some version of neon!”

  Devon scowled and put his hand over his neon-yellow windbreaker. “I was on a run. It’s not my fault that you decided to sneak around in the middle of my run.”

  “I was working out too. I have this vintage Jane Fonda VHS tape that I like to do on the weekends.”

  I had to ask. “Why the weekends?”

  She grinned. “It’s not as formal and I like to do it after eating pot cookies.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I regret asking.”

  I looked around for an easy entrance while they bickered about why Sammie hadn’t shared her pot cookies. Feeling silly, I tried the front door, but it was locked.

  “What are you doing?”

  I glanced over and saw they were both staring at me. “Breaking in.”

  Sammie gasped. “Why?”

  “What did you think I was going to do here?”

  Devon fanned himself. “I thought you were going to, like, look at the spot he was found in or something. It’s right where you’re standing.”

  I gasped and jumped to the left. “Gross!”

  “Now who’s yelling?”

  I moved into the bushes where they’d been, and eased my way down the outside of the house. “You two can be so annoying.”

  They followed me. Sammie elbowed Devon out of the way and got into the space just behind me. “Says the woman trying to break into a dead guy’s house.”

  “That’s not annoying. It’s crazy, but not annoying.”

  She stabbed me in the side with her finger. “It’s going to be annoying if we go to jail.”

  “Don’t jinx us!” I hissed at her. “Also, don’t call me woman. It makes me feel old.”

  Devon snorted. “You are old.”

  “We’re the same age, asshole.”

  “I’m old, too.”

  Sammie pouted. “I’m not old.”

  “I’m not old, either.”

  “We’re all old. We’re in our late twenties. That’s officially old. Last week, I saw some kids doing dance moves that I didn’t recognize, or understand. I’m old.”

  I was horrified to find I suddenly felt like crying. “Okay, there’s a ban on talking about us being old.”

  Sammie sniffed. “I agree. This is harshening whatever cookie mellow I had.”

  “Serves you right,” Devon said with a suspiciously wet-sounding voice.

  We were each stuck in our own heads as we made our way along. I tried a first, second, and third window without any luck. When we got to the fourth one, I crossed my fingers and shoved the window up. It budged, but I wasn’t tall enough
to get enough force behind it.

  “Devon, help!”

  A large arm moved around my shoulder and held the bottom of the window down. “What did I tell you?”

  Sammie and Devon both let out high-pitched screams while I just let my forehead drop onto the window. It was Branson. He sounded annoyed, but I didn’t want to look back and see his annoyed face.

  “How’d you find me?”

  “I went back to the restaurant to check on you and a nice busboy said he saw you take a cab. I talked to a cab driver and he remembered a beautiful redhead being delivered to the middle of nowhere.”

  I turned to look at him, my own annoyance making me forget his. “You stalked me!”

  “And found you breaking into a dead man’s house.”

  I was glad it was dark because my face was burning. “I have a reason.”

  “The list.”

  “What’s going on, Elizabeth? Who is this?”

  I groaned. “This is Branson Wright. Branson, my best friends, Sammie and Devon.”

  “Don’t let your friend get you into trouble. She’s being insane.”

  Sammie gasped. “Does he know what you wouldn’t tell us?”

  Devon just shrugged. “Look at him. I get it.”

  “I have to find that list, Branson.”

  “What list?” Sammie looked back and forth between us.

  “Paul kept a list of women at Stelton that he slept with. I want to look at it.”

  Sammie gasped and grabbed the bottom of the window. “Come on. Help me get this thing open. We need that list.”

  Devon looked over at me and raised his eyebrows. “Um, Sammie?”

  I stared at her and then shoved her shoulder. “What the fuck! Don’t tell me you slept with him!”

  “Oh, my God! You slut!” Devon shoved her back my way and we proceeded to push her back and forth while teasing her about it until Branson cleared his throat.

  “You’re trying to break into a dead man’s home. It may not be the time to go all gaga.”

  I grinned at him. “So, you’re not going to stop me?”

  He stepped forward and easily opened the window. “After you.”

  Chapter 13

  Branson

  It was blatantly obvious to me that I’d lost my fucking mind. There was something about Elizabeth that sucked me in and tripped my brain up. Normal Branson would’ve known that breaking and entering was reserved for special circumstances. Branson after Elizabeth was all willy-nilly. What’s a little B and E on a chilly fall night?

  I watched closely as Elizabeth climbed through the window in the same tight dress she’d worn to dinner. The backless number was hotter than hell and almost stopped me from offering her my coat.

  While she pulled my coat on, I helped her friends in. I couldn’t help thinking of the three of them as The Three Stooges. They were the last people on earth I’d ever want to do a real mission with. I’d never seen anyone in my life get distracted so easily while breaking in somewhere.

  I slipped in after them and slid the window shut. I’d already checked around the house before approaching them. There’d been an alarm system at some point, but it wasn’t activated. The neighbors on the right were out and the neighbors on the left were asleep. We were safe, as long as the stooges didn’t update their social media accounts with where they were and what they were doing.

  Her friends had already started roaming, but Elizabeth stood next to the window, waiting on me. “Thanks for helping. Is this about getting to second base with me?”

  I stifled a laugh. “You’re never boring.”

  “You haven’t known me for long. Eventually I get super boring. Old-woman-with-cats boring. Chess-on-a-Saturday-night boring.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “There’s no way you play chess on a Saturday night.”

  “You’re right. But I do refer to it as Caturday and go to the shelter to play with cats as often as I can.”

  I tilted my head and gave her a look.

  “Fine. I like to go dancing and get frisky after a few margaritas.”

  I nodded. “That I believe.”

  She wagged her eyebrows at me. “You could come with me. Since you’re helping me with my investigation, I mean. You look light on your feet. Do you dance?”

  I shook my head. “Not in years.”

  She brushed against me and rolled her hips. “It’s time to change that, then, Mr. Wright.”

  I blew out a breath and followed her to the next room. “There’s only one problem with that.”

  “What? Don’t try to tell me you’re gay. That kiss did not say gay to me.”

  “What? No. What is wrong with you? I was just going to say I’m not helping you with your investigation.”

  She held her arms out and did a circle. “I think you are.”

  “I’m not.”

  “So, you’re here to stop me? Do a citizen’s arrest?” She bit her lip. “Did you bring your handcuffs?”

  My dick hardened. “Are you drunk?”

  She trailed her finger down my chest and batted her eyelashes at me. “Maybe I’ve got a contact high from Sammie’s pot cookies.”

  I matched her step for step as she backed up and beckoned me with her finger. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works.”

  “Okay. I had a few drinks with dinner. I’m not drunk, though. I’m just happy. Well, I was probably drunk at dinner. I stopped being able to pretend to find Cody attractive. When he grabbed my thigh under the table, I poured my wine over his head.”

  “Good.” I wondered for a second if he was still there. I could go crush him.

  “Hmm. I got everything I needed, anyway. I hope. I had the thought afterwards that I might’ve burned a bridge I need, but fuck bridges. I’ll just swim.”

  Her knees bumped into the couch behind her and she fell onto it. The dress rode up her thighs and she looked like a real Jessica Rabbit staring up at me. She blinked those impossibly long eyelashes and her lips tilted up on one side.

  “Do you have handcuffs?”

  I groaned. She was hard on a man’s morals. I was pretty sure I had some moral, somewhere, about having sex on a dead man’s couch. “I don’t.”

  “You don’t have them here, or you don’t have them—period?”

  “I don’t have them here.”

  “Maybe you can—” She stopped as she heard Sammie and Devon giggling and calling for her. “Hold that thought.”

  I followed behind her and ended up in a huge bedroom down the hall. Across the bed, hundreds of porn magazines were strewn. Mixed in with them were condoms and pill bottles.

  “Viagra! Paul Porter had enough Viagra to supply all of the United States Congress!” Sammie shook a bottle and threw one at me. “In case you need it, big guy.”

  Elizabeth snatched it from me and threw it back at her friend. “No way. Erections from Viagra are the devil’s poles. They last forever and when you’re done and you want to watch TV or eat ice cream, the ding dong’s still hard and poking you.”

  Devon snorted. “That’s not how Viagra works.”

  “You remember that older guy I used to date? He took it. It was horrible.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t the Viagra? Maybe it was the sixty-year-old dick?”

  “He wasn’t sixty! Oh, my God.” She looked at me. “He wasn’t sixty. He was a respectable forty-five.”

  Sammie piped in. “He was forty-five if you subtracted a decade.”

  I made a face. “Is that what you’re into? Handcuffs and old men?”

  Elizabeth’s face turned playful. “It depends. How old are you?”

  “Not forty-five.”

  She bit her lip. “I’d say mid-thirties.”

  “I’d say it doesn’t matter if he’s thirty or a hundred and thirty. Devil pole, or no devil pole, you better scoop him up while you can.”

  “Anyone got a spoon?” Elizabeth licked her lips and then shrugged. “Fuck it. I’ll just use my tongue.”

  I felt my face
heating and tried not to imagine the guys’ reactions if they saw me blushing over a woman hitting on me. Cursing, I took her arm and pulled her out of the room. “Come on, perv. Let’s find that list.”

  Elizabeth grinned at me once we were back in the living room. “They’ll be eating that up for weeks. I couldn’t help myself.”

  I just shook my head and kept looking around the bookshelves. I was stuck in my head, trying to figure out when I’d become the prey, instead of the predator.

  She ran her hand across my back as she walked by. “Do you have a sex list of your own, Mr. Wright?”

  I moved to the desk in the corner. “No.”

  “I’m glad. I would never want a man who would sleep with me to add a name to his list. I want a man who wants to sleep with me because he can’t stop thinking about me naked. Or because he can’t not touch me.”

  I rested my knuckles on top of the heavily lacquered desk and blew out a breath. Looking back at Elizabeth, I found her looking over at me. Her bright-green eyes were intense and focused, anything but clouded from drinking.

  I stood up straight and turned to face her. “You’re a little liar. You’re not drunk.”

  She laughed and turned back to looking through stuff. “Nope. But you let me touch you.”

  I stared at her bare back for a few seconds, my mouth open. I wanted to argue, but I knew she was right. I’d thought she was drunk, so I wasn’t as wary of her touching me and feeling the scars.

  “You’re a little scary—you know that?”

  “You have no idea.” She sighed. “I’m going to actually look around. As much fun as you are, you’re not solving this case for me.”

  I watched as she walked out of the living room, and laughed to myself. She was absolutely insane. I’d never met a woman like her and I doubted I ever would again. It didn’t seem like the world could handle two of her.

  I made myself focus on looking around the house. I looked through things freely, unconcerned about prints. I already had plans to stay behind after the stooges left and clean up behind us. The cops were finished with the house already, so there was no harm in it.

  After nearly half an hour of looking, I was through. There was nothing in the house. Chances were, the list was on a computer. A personal or work computer, I didn’t know, but there was nothing left in the house. I would’ve bet money that the cops took Porter’s personal computer.