by Mary Birk
He smiled. “No, I’d never do that. Not when it’s your turn.” He kissed her and ran his hands along her curves, feeling her body shudder in response. “Waking up like that could kill a man, lassie. But dying like that would be worth it.” He moved from her side and turned her body so he could see the long beautiful nakedness.
“I’ve missed you so much, Terrence.”
“Lassie, you don’t know what missing is.”
“Show me.” She lay back and let him begin his pleasuring of her.
He started with his mouth on her neck and moved down slowly to her breasts. He took his time, loving the way this part made her arch up in desire, her body looking for his. That would come, but not yet. He trailed his tongue down past her still-tight abdomen and found her center, continuing his caresses. He wanted to feel her desire get her to that point he loved, where she begged him to finish her. His mouth still buried in her, he glanced up to see her face. Almost there, you’re almost there, my love.
Her voice, husky and desperate, broke out. “Terrence, have mercy. Please, please.”
He released her and she flew off her cliff, crying out.
Afterwards, he moved up to lie beside her and let his fingers gently draw swirls around her breasts. “Now we’re starting off even.”
She smiled. “I like the sound of that—starting off. Come be inside me.”
“Not yet. You’re still in that earthquake aftershock region. Any touch will take you over again, and the male body’s not quite as resilient—at least not at my age. We’ve hours.”
She placed a hand on his chest. “Don’t fall asleep.”
“No, no sleeping.” He drew her to him. “I’m going to kiss you for a while.”
“Mm-m.”
He kissed her hair, smoothing it down with one hand. “How did you get here?”
“The security guard, Brian. I told him you’d called me.” She smiled. “I think he blushed all the way over here.”
“I can imagine. Where is he now?”
“Parked downstairs. I told him to take a nap, that I’d be down again before morning.”
“He’ll probably never be able to look either one of us in the face again.”
“I don’t care.”
“Nor do I.” He kissed the valley between her breasts. “Earthquake region quiet?”
“Quiet enough. Come be inside me.”
“Truthfully quiet, lassie? I want you to last more than five seconds.”
She considered. “Maybe you should just keep kissing for a while, then. I’m probably still in the five-second range.”
He spread her legs apart and eased into her. “I have a better idea. Let’s just get this series of earthquakes over with, and then start again.”
She started to say something, but instantly got caught up in a tremor. He moved inside her, just enough to transition her from one to the next, loving the way she cried out with each eruption, saving his own for when they started again from the beginning.
He fell asleep just before dawn. When he woke up, she was gone. On the table beside his bed she’d left a gift-wrapped package with a small card on top. Next to it was her key to his flat.
He’d forgotten it was his birthday. Opening the card slowly, he read the words she’d written, words that impaled his heart with their simple message.
FRIDAY, MAY 15
Chapter 98
REID WATCHED as Anne boarded the plane for the States, taking care that she did not see him. He’d gone through security with his police credentials and been given a secluded place where he could observe her flight being boarded. She wore jeans and carried her worn leather carryall. Her hair lay loose around her shoulders. She looked impossibly young, but also determined. He was glad to see that; she would need that determination.
On the other end of her journey there would be someone from Stirling’s security force to watch over her, at least for the next couple of months, in case Walter Von Zandt found out what she’d done and decided to come after her. The fact that Reid and Anne weren’t together would help avert any suspicion that she had helped Reid’s task force, and hopefully lessen the odds that she would become a target for Von Zandt’s revenge.
But that wasn’t why they weren’t together, and he wasn’t going to pretend it was. If things were different, he’d have kept her here in Scotland with him no matter what. He would have protected her, but he’d have had her with him.
Things weren’t different, however.
Masochistically, he’d tried to calculate the number of nights Andrew Grainger had slept with Anne as compared to the nights she’d been with him. Even being generous with the count on his own side, he estimated that Grainger had spent at least five times as many nights with Anne as Reid had during their entire marriage. And what made it absolutely unbearable was that all of the nights Grainger had with Anne were nights when she’d been Reid’s wife—nights they’d been apart because of Reid’s own stubbornness. It hurt, but in the hurting, he told himself, eventually he would find freedom from loving her.
Sometimes he wondered about Andrew Grainger. Did the man spend nights lying awake, as Reid himself did, wondering about the child Anne carried? With his own child murdered only months ago, did Grainger see this child as a chance for hope again? Reid felt guilty for coveting the other man the coming child, but it didn’t stop him from doing it.
He knew Anne could be happy with Grainger; she had been happy with him before Reid had come back into her life. If Reid stayed away, she’d be happy with Grainger again, especially now that the two of them would share a child, be a family.
The pain was unbelievably excruciating. All he could do was to pray that the passage of time would eventually fill the gaping hole that losing Anne was leaving inside of him, and that someday he wouldn’t ache for her with every breath he took. He thought about the words she’d written on the card. Only six words, but maybe enough for him to live on:
If you want me, I’ll wait.
He watched until the plane rose in the sky and disappeared from view, then headed to the office.
* * * * *
Reid handed the pile of disks to Harry. There were a dozen copies all told. They’d arrived that morning with no note, but he knew who they were from. Somehow Glynnis Taylor must had gotten a hold of the films Henry Von Zandt had been using to torment Patty Cady.
“Get rid of them. Burn them, shred them, whatever. Then call Patty and tell her.”
Harry nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
Harry left, and Reid sat thinking. The orange cat sat on one of his office chairs, looking sleepily back at him. The intercom buzzed, but the cat didn’t even blink.
Reid hit the button, and Frank’s voice came through. “Walter Von Zandt is at the front door. He says he wants to talk to you.”
“Let him in.”
Reid didn’t bother to stand up as the elegantly dressed snake entered his office.
“Have a seat.”
Von Zandt looked around, narrowing his eyes with distaste when he saw the cat. He pulled the other guest chair well away and sat down. “Nice to see that you’re not wasting taxpayer dollars on your surroundings. This place is a dump.”
“Did you come here to give decorating advice?”
“Aren’t you going to offer me coffee?”
“Sure. You want coffee?”
“Please. Black.”
Reid buzzed Frank and asked him to bring coffee.
“At least you have a good location.” Von Zandt conceded.
“It’s convenient.”
Frank brought the coffee and shut the door behind him when he left.
Von Zandt took a drink from the mug. “Not bad. Police-issue coffee?”
Reid shook his head. “We buy our own coffee. They’re particular about that, my team. But I suspect you didn’t come here to talk about coffee, either. What can I do for you?”
“You’ve been interfering in my business.”
Reid raised his eyebrows. �
�Me?”
“Ramsey International.”
“Ah.”
“I saw your hand in that.”
“Good eye.”
“That and other things.” Von Zandt wouldn’t come right out and tell him that the money from the seized accounts had been his, not Frederick’s, but they both knew. Likely Von Zandt had a great deal of other money stashed away that they hadn’t been able to find, but he’d need to use at least part of it to compensate the dangerous people whose money he’d lost.
Reid pretended false modesty. “Just doing my job.”
“I think it’s more personal than that.”
“You can think what you like.”
Von Zandt gestured at the desk and around the room. “No photo of Lady Anne.”
“More decorating advice?”
“An observation. I heard she’s gone back to the States.”
Reid felt a chill go through him. “And just who did you hear that from?”
Von Zandt flashed a shark-toothed smile. “She and Jonas did a brilliant job on my garden. It was expensive, but you get what you pay for. No regrets on the expense at all.”
“Speaking of finances, I hear you may be having difficulties in that arena.”
Von Zandt shrugged. “I’m going through a divorce. Sometimes it’s preferable not to appear to be too flush until after the settlement is finalized. You may want to keep that in mind.”
“Really?”
Von Zandt’s response was matter-of-fact. “It doesn’t take much to conclude that things aren’t promising for the two of you. She’s moved back to California. You live here. Her lover lives there. In fact, according to my sources, he met her plane when it arrived. I have a feeling he doesn’t care if she came back to him carrying your child.”
Reid took a deep breath to stop himself from killing Von Zandt. “Let me see. So far you’ve given me decorating advice, analyzed my coffee, and now you’re giving me marital advice. Why are you really here?”
“We have unfinished business.”
“Now on that, we’re in total agreement. I confess I won’t be happy until you’re in prison.”
Von Zandt clucked his tongue. “That smacks of a personal vendetta.”
“Nothing personal at all, I assure you.”
“As I told you before, I am a legitimate businessman. And personal vendettas can go both ways. I was hoping we could agree to stay out of each other’s way.”
“Sorry. Not possible.”
Von Zandt stood up. “I’m afraid you’re about to find out that you’ve no case against me.”
“That’s where you and I disagree.”
“Moira won’t testify against me.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
Von Zandt put on his coat, opened Reid’s office door to leave, then turned back, “Jail can be a dangerous place.”
Harry suddenly appeared in the doorway behind the man, breathless from running. Reid took one look at his sergeant’s face and knew.
Moira was dead.
Author’s Note: On Scientific Advances
Doubtless many readers will be aware (especially if they read the first book in this series) that a reliable and relatively risk-free in utero test for paternity, Cell-free fetal DNA testing, is now available. This prenatal screening tool, which was first developed and used to detect potential health issues in the fetus, involves taking a blood sample from the woman and the potential father(s) and is 98% accurate for paternity. Unfortunately for Anne, this story takes place in 2009, a little too early for Anne’s physician to have offered the test to her.
About the Author
Mary Birk lives in Colorado. Before embarking on writing fiction, she authored the Colorado Pretrial Handbook, published in 2008, and reissued in 2011 by Bradford Publishing Company.She has been named a Library Journal SELF-e Select author.
The First Cut, the second book in the Terrence Reid/Anne Michaels series, won the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Colorado Gold Award in the mystery/suspense category in 2014. The first book in the Terrence Reid/Anne Michaels series, Mermaids of Bodega Bay, was a finalist for the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Colorado Gold award in 2013, and was named a SELF-e Top Book of the Year for 2016 by Library Journal.
Mary Birk on Social Media:
Website: http://marybirk.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authormarybirk
Twitter - @marypricebirk
Pinterest -marypricebirk
Terrence Reid Series
Mermaids of Bodega Bay, Book 1 of the Terrence Reid Mystery Series
**LIBRARY JOURNAL BEST BOOK OF 2016 SELF-e SELECTION**
Suspecting that his estranged wife is having an affair with a famous artist from a renowned American art dynasty, Scottish Police Superintendent Terrence Reid, heir to a whiskey fortune and Scottish title, travels to the small California seaside town of Bodega Bay to try to win her back—only to discover that her lover’s six-year-old daughter has just been kidnapped.
Anne, a talented historic garden designer, doesn’t know whether to bless or curse the luck that had her husband show up on her doorstep just as disaster strikes the Grainger Art Colony. Moving on after he left her was hard, but she’d done it with Andrew Grainger’s help. When Anne and her lover become the FBI’s chief suspects, Reid, compelled to exonerate the woman he still loves, steps in to investigate—and in the process, uncovers a shocking web of deceit and danger.
The First Cut, Book 2 of the Terrence Reid Mystery Series
**RMFW COLORADO 2014 GOLD WINNER – MYSTERY **
Cover Design by: JT Lindroos
Scottish Police Superintendent Terrence Reid’s race to derail the money pipeline fueling a string of deadly terrorist attacks suffers a devastating setback when his informant is brutally murdered. Reid’s chief suspect, a ruthless financier, always seems to be one step ahead of him. After one of his men is murdered, Reid suspects he’s got a traitor in own camp. When Reid’s beautiful young wife becomes deeply embroiled in the investigation, things get dangerously personal.
Less Than A Treason, Book 3 of the Terrence Reid Mystery Series
Cover Design by: JT Lindroos
Cover Photos by: citizenthom and Tony Hisgett
Reid tears himself away from a murder investigation in Glasgow to return to his family’s ancestral home in the Highlands for a Christmas house party. Dunbaryn Castle is all decked out for Christmas, but in spite of the elegant trappings, ominous elements vibrate below the house party’s surface. When the murder investigation Reid thought he left behind in Glasgow follows him to the Highlands and the murderer strikes again, this time close to home, his holiday gets cut short. Drawn deep into a labyrinth of family scandals and greed, Reid is forced to confront shattering secrets better left buried.
Coming Soon:
“Most Gracious Advocate,” Book 4 of the Terrence Reid Mystery Series will be available in the winter of 2016.
Cover Design by: JT Lindroos
Cover Photos by: William Warby and Ben Brophy
