“You mean we need to destroy those.”
“That too. Did you find anything else?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, let’s get out of here.”
“Thank God.” Melissa grabbed the photos and we left the bedroom.
I did a quick look around. Seeing nothing amiss, we let ourselves out, but not before I grabbed the camera and the laptop. Neither of us said a word until we were in the relative safety of the car.
“Holy crud.”
Leave it to the writer to come up with the perfect words for the situation. Unsure of what to say, I chose to say nothing.
“I need a drink,” she said.
I looked at the clock, then at her. “Too early.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Thank God.”
“Don’t get too excited, we have a couple of stops to make first.”
“Swell.” She groaned.
“Just suck it up.”
“That was my intent, or rather, suck it down.”
We took off the gloves and stuck them in an empty Wal-Mart bag. I yanked my cell phone out of my pocket and punched in some numbers. After two rings Ryan answered the phone, not with a usual greeting one expected when placing a call. Instead, I was instructed to bring a six pack of beer and a bag of Cheetos. I pushed end and stuck the phone back in my pocket.
“So where are we going next?”
“You’ll see.”
Four blocks away I pulled into a drive-thru. I bought the requested items and added two Diet Cokes, two Hershey’s Bars, a bag of Doritos, and an additional six pack of beer. While I waited for my receipt I found myself once again thinking about how odd it was you could buy alcohol without getting out of your car. It was kind of like those fireworks sales where you promised not to use them in the state in which you were buying them. What the hell was up with that?
I handed my purchase off to Melissa with strict orders not to open a beer. The last thing either of us needed right then was to get pulled over with stolen property and an open container in the car. With my chronic case of lead foot, getting pulled over was a very real and common possibility.
Ten minutes later I pulled up to a mansion in the ritziest part of town. It was the neighborhood next to Melissa’s. These places made a modest three-bedroom, three-bath brick ranch house look like a house for Barbie, only not as fancy and without the elevator. I parked in front of the guesthouse, which was an exact mini replica of the main house, down to the red brick, white pillars, and arched entryway. Melissa grabbed the Cheetos and one of the six packs while I slipped on another pair of gloves and grabbed the camera and laptop.
“What are we doing here?”
“You’ll see.”
Before either of us could ring the bell, the door was opened by the hottest geek God had ever created. He truly was a masterpiece. With piercing blue eyes, blond hair, and a six pack of his own that you could bounce quarters off of. You could almost forget about his need to attend Star Trek conventions in costume or the fact that he drove a powder blue Prius, but the deal breaker, for me at least, was that the twenty-eight-year-old’s only source of income was a trust fund that he spent with abandon while living in his parents’ guest house.
He ushered us inside. I had to give Melissa a gentle but firm shove to get her moving. He closed the door behind us.
“Ladies, have a seat.”
Before I could take a step he put his hand on my arm and whispered, “If I’d known you were bringing a hot friend with you, I would have asked for a threesome instead.” He chuckled to make it seem as if he was joking but we both knew better.
“Too late to renegotiate.”
“Bummer. Maybe next time.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Like never.
A threesome was beyond my comfort zone. I may not be the best Catholic girl on the planet, but figuring all the sins I’d already committed, I didn’t think my eternal soul could handle much more. Although if Grant was an identical twin, I was almost positive God would understand.
I brushed past Ryan and sat in a chair instead of on the couch next to Melissa. I didn’t think it wise to give him any visual stimulation. The last thing he needed was encouragement of any kind.
“So, what do you have for me?” Ryan asked.
“I need some pictures on this laptop and camera deleted,” I replied.
“Cool. What kind of pictures?”
“Some adult photos.”
“You brought me porn? Awesome. Maybe it isn’t too late to renegotiate after all,” Ryan said.
“Wipe the smirk off your face. It isn’t porn. These pictures were taken without the woman’s knowledge or consent. Got it?”
“Oh, sure, no problem.”
He walked over to me and took the camera and laptop before heading into his tech geek cave, which was really just a big room with dozens of electrical gadgets, computers, monitors, and a giant, flat screen TV with an Xbox 360, a PS3, and a Wii U. Not quite as sexy as the Batcave but it would have to do.
“So are we just supposed to sit here and wait for him?”
“Yes.”
“Great.”
“Sorry this part isn’t exciting enough for you.”
“That’s okay. Besides, I’m not supposed to have fun. We’re helping a friend.”
“I’m glad you remembered that.”
“Of course I remember. I’m not selfish.”
There were many adjectives that could be used to describe Melissa, rich, funny, annoying, and frustrating, but selfish was definitely not one of them.
“So what’s his deal?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s hot but he dresses like a nerd,” she said.
“There are hot nerds.”
“Oh really? Name one besides this guy.” Melissa looked over at me. “Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
“So what’s up with the two of you?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“Ooh, spill.”
I looked to make sure he wasn’t heading back. “Fine, we almost had sex once.”
“What?”
“It was just too weird.”
“Weird, huh? So, what, did he want you to dress up in Star Trek costumes?”
“Yuck, no.”
“Then what?”
“I just kept thinking his parents were going to walk in on us.”
“Oh jeez, that’s sad.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So what’s with the guesthouse with enough antiques to give my Aunt Jenny an orgasm?”
“Shh, he’s coming back.”
“Would you like me to leave the two of you alone?”
In response I glared at her. She covered her mouth with her hand, but I could still hear the laughter.
“Whoever owns this stuff has great taste in women, but he’s a giant jerk,” Ryan said.
Personally, I was thinking of something a lot stronger than jerk to call Irving. “Were you able to erase the pictures?”
“Sure, that was easy. The tricky part was loading a virus on his computer.”
“You did what?”
“I put a virus on his computer. The next time he turns it on, he’s going to wipe out everything on it.”
“Wow. Why did you do that?”
“Taking pictures of ladies without their consent is crap. I’d be pissed if someone did that to one of my sisters.”
“Well, thanks.”
I took the things back from him and stood up to leave.
“Kim, it doesn’t take two people to return those things. Why don’t you pick me up later? That is, if you don’t mind.” Melissa had turned and addressed the last part to the grinning geek.
“I don’t mind at all. We’ve got beer and we could have a little party.”
“Melissa, he wanted us to have a threesome.”
And just like that she turned and was out the door. It was as if
I’d dunked her in a tub of ice cubes. Having lived through the experience when I was a little girl, I would never ever recommend it. My parents had rushed me to the hospital in the middle of the night. The doctor, desperate to get my hundred and four fever down, had me stripped down and covered in ice cubes. It was hell. My skin felt like it was on fire.
“Wow! What an ass.”
“It’s why I only ask him for help when I absolutely need it.”
“No, I meant, like, ooh what an ass.”
“Oh.”
Back at the loser’s place I had Melissa serve as lookout while I put the things back. I had considered just tossing them, but then he could accuse Shandra of theft. As for the pictures, he certainly couldn’t tell the police someone had stolen pictures he had taken illegally.
I was eager to get this over with and get the heck out of Irving’s apartment. I put everything back and did a quick look around to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. I stepped outside and found the bane of my existence leaning against the wall, smiling.
“Miss Murphy, how nice to see you again,” Mr. Abraham said.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, looking around for Melissa.
“Oh, just enjoying a nice evening. What about you?”
“The same, and now I’ve gotta go,” I said.
“So, what were you doing here?”
“You know, if people keep seeing us together, they may get the wrong idea. Maybe you should go stalk someone else for a while—like forever.”
“Avoiding the question are you, Kim?” Mr. Abraham asked.
“We’re not friends and we aren’t related. So, I suggest you stick to Miss Murphy if you can’t fight the urge not to speak to me. Better yet, how about if we don’t talk again ever.”
“So is that yet another ‘no comment’ for the record?”
“Absolutely.” I stepped to the left to walk past him.
“It’s a bit weird the police chief’s daughter has become involved in so many questionable situations.”
“I think if you have been reduced to following me around, you might want to consider a career change. I hear McDonald’s is hiring. At least that is an honest profession.”
Back at the car Melissa screeched when I stepped up next to her. “Nice job as lookout.”
“Jeez, Kim, you scared the hell out of me. Hey, the loser didn’t show up. I was imagining being tracked by bloodhounds.”
“Great.”
“What took you so long?” she asked as we got into the car.
“That reporter showed up.”
“Here?”
“Yeah. I’m not real comfortable about that, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“So what did he want?”
“He asked a bunch of questions, and I refused to answer.”
“Thank God. The last thing you needed to do was to confess to breaking and entering.”
“Well, we didn’t actually break anything. So I say it should just be entering and we didn’t steal anything.” We both looked at the stack of pictures. “Those don’t count.”
“Absolutely.”
Back at my apartment building we drove around searching for evil reporters with microphones lurking about. Finding none, we decided it was safe for me to make a run, or at least a fast walk, to the door. Once we were inside, Melissa texted Charmaine to let her know the deed was done. Charmaine texted back to let us know she had just left Shandra and was headed to my place.
I tried to ignore the flashing numbers on the answering machine but couldn’t. I ended up pressing the delete button ten times in a row, accidently erasing a message from my dad. I called my parents and, after a short conversation with my mom, my dad came on the phone, and after a quick hello got straight to the point. Detective Tompkins would be contacting me soon. It seemed the ever annoying but hot as hell cop had more questions for me.
A few minutes later, Charmaine rushed in like a gust of wind. “Well?”
“It’s taken care of and Shandra has nothing to worry about.”
“Thank you both so much.”
“All right, who’s ready for some champagne?” Melissa asked.
Without waiting for an answer she jumped up off the couch and headed for the kitchen.
“Unless you plan on having some delivered you’re gonna have to settle for a bottle of whatever’s in the fridge.”
Melissa returned a short time later with three wine glasses and two full bottles of white zinfandel and a half bottle of chardonnay.
It didn’t take long before I began to feel the effects of the wine. I hustled Melissa into the guest room, and after grabbing some pillows and blankets, gave my room over to a very grateful Charmaine. Back downstairs I dumped my stuff onto the couch. I poured the rest of the white zinfandel into my glass and finished it off since it would have been a shame to waste it.
I curled up on the couch and turned on the TV, which was a big mistake. Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives was on, and, having skipped dinner, I was beginning to get a bit hungry, but with all the wine I’d consumed, food was out of the question.
The doorbell rang just as I was drifting off. Kicking off the cover, I stumbled to the door. On the other side of the peephole I could make out Grant’s face. I’d completely forgotten about my dad’s warning. It was never wise to talk to a police officer while under the influence of too much wine. My plan was to make up an excuse and send him on his way. I plastered a fake smile on my face then opened the door. “Grant, what a surprise.”
“Surprise? Didn’t the chief tell you I was coming?”
“Yes, he did, but since it’s so late I figured you’d wait until tomorrow.”
Grant looked at his watch. “It’s only eleven o’clock on a Friday night.”
“Well, I’m really tired. So, if you don’t mind, we should have this conversation tomorrow.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“You invited me in.”
“No, I didn’t” Did I?
“Just like I figured. Have a bit of wine, did you?”
“You’re the defective. You figure it out.”
“I think you mean detective.”
“That’s what I said.”
“There are three wine glasses. Where are your drinking buddies?”
“Upstairs. Asleep.”
“And you’re sleeping on the couch?”
“Yup.”
Grant picked up one of the bottles. I walked over to take the bottle from him and stumbled. Grant spun and grabbed me. The force of my forward motion sent us both over. We landed with a thud onto the carpeted floor, narrowly missing a table and lamp. The only sounds were our labored breathing and our hearts beating as if we’d just run a marathon or engaged in another physical activity that was a hell of a lot more fun and mostly done in the privacy of a bedroom or, say, the living room floor. Laying on top of Grant, my earlier appetite for food was replaced with a hunger for something not food related, though I wasn’t ruling out the use of whipped cream.
“Kim, are you okay?”
“Yeah, are you?” I asked.
“Yes, except if you could move a bit. Your thigh is a little too close to my…”
Well, now that he’d mentioned it, that wasn’t the only thing that was close. Our lips were mere inches apart. I could feel his warm breath on my face.
“Oh, sorry.” I slid my leg down and Grant moaned. I shifted and found myself staring into his eyes.
I wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly Grant and I were in a lip lock. Our tongues touched and I wanted more. I slid across him like a desperate horny sailor on his first shore leave in six months.
Grant shifted beneath me and reached his hand between us, but instead of heading for my southern region he pulled his phone from his pocket. Grant looked at the screen and began to swear and mutter something about annoying drug dealers. “I’ve got to go.”
“Now?” I winced at the sound of de
speration in my voice.
“Yes.”
Frustrated in more ways than one, I rolled off of him. Grant stood up and like a gentleman helped me to my feet.
“Thanks.” I straightened my clothes and avoided direct eye contact
Grant cleared his throat. “You should, uh, try to get some sleep.” He raised his hand and brushed his thumb across my lips. “Lock the door behind me.” He grabbed me and pulled me up against him. “You are too tempting.” He kissed my cheek then left without another word.
I locked the door and curled up on the couch, convinced God had either a twisted sense of humor where I was concerned or he really hated me. Why else would he send Grant over here to get my engine revved up only to send him away again before I could get a tune-up?
The last time I’d had a partner that didn’t require batteries was five months and two weeks ago. I didn’t know exactly how many days, minutes, or seconds, but I did know it was too freaking long ago.
Sex with the hot geek could have done the trick but I was afraid my mother was right and I was reaching that point in my life where great sex with a guy wasn’t enough. I shuddered at the thought. Just because thoughts of Grant popped into my head at inopportune times didn’t mean I wanted anything more than some hot, sweaty sex. Right?
I tossed and turned, trying to ignore the sexual frustration as well as the mental aggravation Grant seemed to provoke in me like no one else.
Chapter Eleven
Saturday
“Oh for the love of Hershey’s, who the hell is banging on my door?” I looked at the clock and groaned. It was four in the morning. Didn’t anybody sleep anymore? Thinking it might be Grant returning to finish what we’d started earlier, I pried my eyes open and stumbled to the door. “What is so important it couldn’t wait until a decent hour? Say, noon.”
“I thought you’d want to know the fire department’s putting out a fire at your office,” Michael said.
“Shit! I’ve got to find my keys.”
“You might want to put some shoes on too,” he said.
Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) Page 17
