by Ronica Black
The doors opened and an older woman in pressed pants and a casual blouse showed them inside. She had a gentle smile and her salt-and-pepper hair was worn in a long braid. Maria returned the smile and thanked her as she led them to another large room with high ceilings. And though the room was somewhat dim, Maria made out the lush rugs, colorful art, hand sculpted statues, and expensive yet more modern furniture. A vase of fresh flowers sat atop a shiny grand piano.
“Ms. Ashton will see you in here.” The woman opened another set of double doors and Maria squinted at the bright light coming from floor-to-ceiling windows. A dark figure stood before them in a pair of pin-striped pants, sharp looking heels, and a sleeveless blouse. Her silhouette looked like it had just stepped off a painting. Her form long and sleek and elegant.
The woman didn’t speak at first, just held her cigarette near her face, and for a second Maria wondered if they had the right woman. The tall blonde appeared to be lost in thought, as if they weren’t even there. Surely someone who knew the police wanted to speak to her would be more keen to their presence.
“I suppose you came to talk about Hale?” she said before inhaling her cigarette and blowing it out toward the window. She brushed back her hair and finally turned. She walked with confident long strides, and Maria felt herself heat as she took in the angles of her face. She forced herself to look away as the woman offered them a seat and then sat on the white sofa across from them. She crossed her legs and stubbed out her cigarette in a crystal ashtray.
“Yes, we came to discuss Hale,” Finley said. He reached for his small notebook and began to write.
“I’m not interested in what you have to say,” the woman said, halting him.
“You.” She threw her voice toward Maria. “Who are you?”
Maria met her eyes and she felt them penetrate. They were light brown in color, almost gold, alive and seeking. Maria felt exposed, as if the woman could see right into her soul. She blinked, hoping to break the focus, but the woman didn’t flinch. Maria glanced away and forced herself to speak with the confidence that was slowly being pulled away.
“I’m Detective Diaz,” she said.
A quick glance back to the woman showed Maria that her stare hadn’t changed. She was looking at her as if she were devouring everything about her.
“I’m Avery Ashland. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Maria nodded, not quite trusting her voice.
“Diaz,” Avery said with a low, throaty rasp. “Hispanic?”
“Yes.” Suspects rarely asked personal questions. They usually only wanted, needed, to know about the case at hand. Where they stood. How much trouble they were in. And could they maneuver out of it. This, this was new.
“Of course. The dark hair, olive skin, I knew right away.” Avery paused, fumbled with a case on the coffee table, and plucked a long, slim cigarette from a blue and white package that read Vogue. She lit the cigarette, inhaled, and said while exhaling, “They’re French. Would you like one?” She spoke directly to Maria. She didn’t give Finley a second glance.
“No, thank you.”
“You don’t smoke.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Of course not.” She looked her up and down. “You have to stay in tip-top shape. Be ready for anything.” She grinned. “That means no on anything unhealthy. And by the looks of your body, I’d say you stick to that quite well.”
Maria fought a blush. She looked at Finley who cleared his throat and tried again to enter the conversation.
“Ms. Ashland, we’d like to ask some questions about Hale Medley.”
Avery stood, rounded the coffee table, and extended her slim hand to Maria.
“Come, Detective Diaz.” She smiled.
Maria took her hand and stood along with her, not liking the way she stood over her. It was a power thing.
“Promise me you’ll call me Avery. Ms. Ashland sounds so ancient.” She slipped her hand into Maria’s elbow and began to lead them away. “I understand you wish to talk about Hale?”
Maria shot a glance back to Finley who shrugged. He stood, waved her on, and began snooping on his own.
Avery led them toward a back room in the open, airy penthouse. More double doors led to a vast master bedroom. Maria halted at the door.
Avery only laughed. “Relax, Detective. I don’t bite.”
Maria watched as she entered the room, crossed to a deep closet, entered, and emerged completely nude, tossing a sun dress onto the bed. “I simply wanted to change into something more comfortable as we talked.” She eyed her with a crooked grin. “Surely you can understand that?”
Maria burned and struggled for breath. She’d seen plenty of nude women in the locker room and on film. And of course, she’d had a handful of lovers. But seeing Avery’s long, lean body glowing in the afternoon sunlight sent lightning bolts straight to her center, into her gut and all throughout her skin. She was burning alive in her stupid kitten heels.
Avery slid the dress on over her head and straightened in the mirror. She turned her head.
“Would you mind zipping me up?”
Maria had to find the nerve to speak. “I think you should ask someone else to do that.”
“Who? That Neanderthal partner of yours? No, thanks.”
“What about your housekeeper?”
“Nadine?” She laughed. “Good heavens, no. Where’s the fun in that?”
“I didn’t realize this was about fun.”
“Oh, it’s always about fun.” She walked toward Maria with graceful strides like a runway model. She stopped inches from her, smiled softly, and turned, exposing her bare back.
Maria inhaled deeply as she felt the electricity between them. She could reach out and run her fingertips along her spine, tease her ripple of muscles as they moved, kiss her freckle near the bottom. She shivered with a desire so strong she almost lost her balance.
“Please?” Avery asked with a whisper. “Just a delicate little zip.”
“I can’t,” Maria said, unable to hide the quiver to her voice.
“Why not?”
“I—”
“Here, give me your hand.” She reached back and found Maria’s hand. “Let me help you.” She placed it at the bottom near the zipper. “There.”
Maria pressed her lips together and clenched the zipper. She tugged upward and covered her back. She dropped her hand slowly, as if she’d just completely splayed open her insides and Avery had seen them all, even picked through them to find the parts she wanted to see most.
Avery turned and floored her again with her eyes. “Thank you.” The corner of her mouth lifted in amusement. She took Maria’s hand and led them through the bedroom and out onto the terrace. The rain had stopped, but the sun was winking through the clouds as if it couldn’t decide what to do. Avery offered her a seat and then eased onto a reclined lounge. She crossed her ankles and slid on a pair of expensive looking shades.
“Would you like a drink?” Avery lifted a receiver and spoke French into the phone. She hung up and sighed. “I hate the rain. It brings such trouble. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Maria leaned back and tried to relax and get her bearings, but she couldn’t. She was stiff as a board but as wet as the ocean. Avery had gotten the one-up on her, and she didn’t know how to recover. So she did what she’d learned to do as a child. She acted tough.
“Are you referring to Hale?”
Avery stared off into the sky. “I suppose I could be.” She sounded unshaken, calm.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you know we were here to talk about Hale?”
Avery turned toward her. “Because he’s dead, isn’t he?”
A chill went up Maria’s spine. “How do you know?”
Avery chuckled. “Come on, Detective, don’t play coy. I might like it.”
Maria fought against the inner turmoil of fear and desire. It was swirling and gaining strength and bringing her down fast. She imagined drowning right there in
a chair on a terrace of a penthouse. Drowning without anyone to know, anyone to help or even grieve.
Avery was studying her, and when Maria didn’t speak, she did. “Hale has long been a nemesis of sorts. And I make it a point to know my enemies and know them well. If they succeed, I know. If they fail, I know. If they die—I know.”
“How?”
“Friends.”
“Friends?”
“Yes. Good friends. Friends who have access to information.”
“As in police investigations?”
She laughed into the sky. “I know he’s dead, Detective. Isn’t that all that matters?”
“You don’t seem too upset by it.”
“Would you be if it were your enemy?”
“I don’t have enemies.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that. I’m sure you’ve broken hearts all over Las Brisas. Question is, how did I not know about you?”
“Why would you?”
Avery looked at her and removed her shades to place the tip of the arm in her mouth. “Because you’re stunning.”
Maria looked away, but Avery continued. “And gay.”
Maria whipped her head back and stared into her. “How—I—”
“You nearly came out of your skin when you first saw me. And then when I was nude and asked you to touch me—I thought you were going to fall over with pent-up desire.”
Maria stood and hid her trembling hands behind her back. “I think we’re done here.”
“What about my dear friend Hale?”
“We’ll be back,” she said as she turned and walked through the bedroom and back through the penthouse to find Finley. She found him snooping through a tall bookcase.
“We’re going.” She didn’t wait for him to catch up.
“Guess what I got?” he said. “A lifted print and a cigarette butt.”
“Great, wonderful.”
“Wait. What happened? What’s going on?”
They reached the elevator and stepped inside. She squared off with him.
“She’s gay.”
He blinked as if shocked.
“And you used me to get to her.”
“I—I’m—”
“How could you not tell me?”
He grabbed her shoulders. “Because she would’ve known. She would’ve sniffed us out. And she would’ve clammed up. We had to do it this way.”
“We?”
He sighed.
“What the hell have you gotten me into, Finley?” She leaned against the elevator wall as dizziness came again. “What the hell have you gotten me into?”
Chapter Five
Avery lifted the phone receiver and sipped from her glass of Chateau Margaux 2010. It was slightly chilled, just as she liked it, with hints of blueberry and black currant, just what she needed. She knew it would only take a glass or two to completely relax her, and she needed that after her enticing encounter with Detective Diaz. She swallowed another decadent sip before Bobby Luca, her private investigator, answered. Then she spoke softly and swiftly.
“Detective Diaz. Female. Las Brisas County Sherriff’s Office. Find out all you can about her.”
She replaced the receiver, stood, and stared down at the front of the resort. She saw a dark, older model Jeep Grand Cherokee speed away like it was running from hell itself.
“Oh, Detective Diaz. They sent you all fresh and squirming on your sweet little hook. They knew I’d bite, but how did you not know you were the reason?”
“Avery,” Nadine said, carrying a plate of fresh fruit and cheese.
“Just set it down, please,” she said. “Unfortunately, our guest is gone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She’ll be back.”
“Shall I prepare a meal then? For this evening?”
“No, she won’t have an appetite…for food. She’ll be more interested in information.”
“Would you like me to inform the staff?”
“No. I want everyone to behave as they always do. I want everything run as it always is.”
Nadine seemed to hesitate. Avery noticed and grew frustrated.
“What is it? You’ve been with me since I was a child, yet you still hesitate to speak your truth. Spill it, woman.”
Nadine cleared her throat. “Are you sure you want to go ahead with tomorrow night’s festivities?”
Avery cocked her head. “Yes, why wouldn’t I?”
“Because there might be police presence.”
Avery sipped more of her wine. “Everything will continue as planned.”
Nadine nodded.
“And, Nadine?”
“Yes?”
“I want to know the second Detective Diaz shows up.”
“You’re sure she will?”
Avery couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, yes. She won’t be able to help herself.”
“Avery?” Nadine asked.
“Yes, Nadine?”
Nadine played with her hands. “She seems nice.”
Avery met her gaze. “Yes, she does, doesn’t she?”
Nadine excused herself and Avery deposited her wine glass on the table. She entered her bedroom, stripped once again, and ran a bath in her oversized Roman tub. She slid into the slick porcelain and bathed with her fragrant sliced soap and Prive shampoo and conditioner. When she finished, she climbed out and stepped into a satin robe to air dry. She was combing through her hair when a knock came from her bedroom door.
“In,” she called and sprayed on her perfume. She’d made it herself on one of her many trips to Paris. She was in dire need of a new bottle.
“Mm, I can smell you already,” Lana Gold said as she entered in a long white cotton dress and sandals. Her red hair was pulled up into a twisted bun and loose strands hung down to tease the moisture on her shoulders. “Won’t you ever tell me what’s in that perfume of yours?”
“No.”
Lana came to stand behind her. She wrapped her arms around her and stared into the mirror with her. She kissed her neck and teased her ear. Avery closed her eyes at the sensation and then opened them with a ferocious desire. Toying with Diaz had turned her on, and she wanted and needed nothing more than to get off.
She shoved Lana back and tore off her robe. She threw it at her and walked to the bed where she lay down and called to her with a curled finger.
Lana tossed the robe aside and climbed onto the bed.
“I want your mouth on me,” Avery said, opening her legs and stroking herself. “Now.”
Lana lowered herself and began kissing and teasing the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. But Avery couldn’t take it. She grabbed her head and pulled her onto her aching cunt. She made a loud noise as Lana’s mouth hit her, all hot and wet and heavy.
“That’s it, fuck yeah.” She bucked her hips and held fast to her. She clenched her eyes and thought of Diaz and her lusciously curvy body in the tight pencil skirt. She thought of her flashing dark eyes and stubborn set to her mouth. Thought of her trembling hands and trembling lip that she failed to hide. And mostly, she thought of the heat on her cheeks and upper chest as she burned with poorly harbored desire.
“Oh, God. Oh, fuck yes.” She writhed into the pleasure and imagined Diaz between her legs. But when she opened her eyes, the delicate bubble of the fantasy was pierced and she sat up, pulling Lana away.
“What?” Lana touched her mouth and sat back.
“My vibrator. Where is it?’ She had to come and she had to come now. She was nearly ready to burst.
“Why?”
“Just get it.”
Lana leaned over and dug through the nightstand. She found the soft, pink, vibrating dildo, and Avery took it from her, switched it on, and held it to her flesh. Her head and neck arched as the pleasure returned, and she laughed into it, closing her eyes once again to think of Diaz. As the pleasure mounted, she pinched her own nipples and arced up into the phallus. When she felt Lana fasten to her breast, she didn’t protest, but rather came
up off the bed in orgasmic spasms.
She came and came and came again, calling out for the one she wanted, the one who currently eluded her.
“Who’s Diaz?” Lana asked before she had completely come down from her climax.
Avery lay still with her heart pounding and her breath struggling to go in and out. She rolled out of bed and slipped back into her robe. She felt hot and tingly and alive. Her chest heaved in spent heaven. She felt wonderful.
She returned to the bathroom and finished getting ready. Bobby would arrive any minute with news on Diaz.
“Avery?”
Lana reentered the bathroom. “Another woman?”
Avery combed her hair and examined her dewy skin. “No. Not yet.” She turned and planted a lingering kiss on Lana’s lips. “I have an appointment. I need to get ready.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“But we had plans.”
“Well, we’ll have to reschedule.”
“Avery, I came all this way.”
Avery stared at her in the mirror. “Lana, you know how this goes, how this plays out. We aren’t exclusive; we see who we want to see when we want to see them. And right now, I have an urgent appointment.”
“With this Diaz?”
“No, you’ll be glad to know it’s not with her. It’s with Bobby.”
Lana’s stern face softened. “Oh.”
“Yes, so I’ll call you later, okay?”
Lana nodded, studied her for a moment, and then turned to leave. She paused at the door.
“Are you seeing Bobby about Hale?”
Avery stopped styling her hair. “I’m sure the subject will come up.”
Lana hesitated at the doorway and then left the bathroom and the bedroom. Avery heard the door close behind her. Lana was a little possessive, and though she’d told her time and again they weren’t exclusive, that didn’t keep Lana from hoping. Avery suspected it was because they’d known each other so long and had experienced so many sexual liaisons together, it seemed likely they’d end up together. But Lana couldn’t hold her attention, and relationships of any sort she steered clear of. That is, except for her nieces. But that relationship was private and so very special. She shared it with no one other than Nadine. She thought of the beautiful detective and wondered if she’d consider a relationship with her. Her heart fluttered, and a warm feeling overcame her. Just as it had all those years ago with Bryce, her first female lover. It was a warm, tempting feeling, but it left her feeling vulnerable so she forced herself to laugh and straighten her posture.
