by Tripp Ellis
We waited for a break in the traffic, then darted across the street and slipped into Keys. It was an upscale piano bar. A virtuoso pianist tickled the keys, and the clientele was far more appealing.
Jack strolled to the bar while I found the restroom. I grabbed a napkin from the counter and blotted the blood from my lip. Then I splashed water on my face. The bathroom attendant handed me another napkin, and I blotted myself dry. I put a tip in his jar and he gave an appreciative nod. I pushed out of the restroom and found Jack at the bar.
He had another drink waiting.
Before I got punched in the face, I was beginning to get a nice buzz. But the adrenaline sobered me up quickly. The rush would die off soon, and I was sure I would wake up with a hangover. And a sore jaw.
The night was far from over.
Jack was on a mission, and I was his dedicated wing man for the evening. There would be no bailing out early without having to hear about it for days.
I leaned against the bar and sipped my whiskey.
"I told you that girl was trouble," Jack said, haughtily.
I scowled at him.
"What girl would that be?" a soft voice said behind me.
I could see in the mirror behind the bar the brunette had followed us across the street.
I turned around cautiously and surveyed the disheveled devil.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Is that any way to greet someone who's coming to apologize?" she asked. She looked up to me with those adorable eyes and pouty face.
"You'll have to forgive my friend’s rudeness," JD said.
"She punched me, remember?"
Jack shrugged. "He probably deserved it."
The brunette laughed. "The least I could do is buy you a drink."
"I already have one. Thanks," I said, sneering as I lifted my glass.
"You can buy me a drink," JD said.
I muttered, "She didn't punch you."
"I'll buy you both a drink," she said, flatly.
She pushed between us and leaned against the bar.
Jack admired her backside as she arched it out for our viewing pleasure.
Within moments the bartender had served up three whiskeys. The brunette spun around, lifted her glass, and toasted, "To an interesting life."
We clinked glasses.
"It seems like you don't have any trouble in that department," JD said.
"I do what I can," the brunette said.
"Want to tell me what the fight was about?" I asked.
"No." She thought about it for a moment. "If you amuse me, perhaps I will indulge you."
"So, we're all just here for your amusement?" I asked.
"Isn't that what we all want?" the brunette said. "To find someone who amuses us for the rest of our days."
"Or for an evening," JD added.
She smiled and agreed. "Or an evening."
She clinked glasses with JD.
I rolled my eyes.
14
The brunette's phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her purse. "Oh shit! I left Amelia at Bumper."
The sexy shoplifter clacked on the keys, sending a text message to her friend. "You don't mind if Amelia joins us, do you?"
"The blonde?" JD asked.
She nodded.
"The more the merrier," JD said with a grin.
"So what do I call you?" I asked.
A sly grin curled on her full lips. "Depends on the situation."
"What's your name?"
"I'll tell you if you promise not to arrest me," she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"I'll promise not to arrest you if you promise not to do anything illegal."
"Where is the fun in that?"
I arched an eyebrow at her.
"Okay. I'll admit it. I'm a bad girl, and I need to be punished. You’ve got a pair of handcuffs. You could tie me up and spank my naughty little bottom if it would make you feel better?"
JD almost spit out his drink.
I cleared my throat, then swallowed hard.
"I think that’s your cue, Romeo," JD said.
Amelia arrived and found us at the bar.
"Amelia, you remember Jack, don't you?" the brunette vixen said.
Amelia forced a smile, then interrogated my shoplifter. "What happened to you?"
"Long story,” the brunette said. “I'll tell you later. Keep Jack company. Deputy Wild and I have some business to attend to."
Amelia rolled her eyes.
The brunette grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the bar. "If you play your cards right, I'll let you practice your interrogation techniques."
I looked over my shoulder at Jack and shrugged.
He smiled and waved, then focused his attention on Amelia.
We hailed a cab at the curb and made our way back to the marina. It was against my better judgment, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.
The driver launched into traffic, zipping across town.
The shoplifter put her hand on my thigh and traced her delicate fingers up my leg. She looked out the window the entire time, trying to act casual.
She had my full attention.
The vixen grabbed a handful and fondled the merchandise. This was one piece of jewelry she couldn't walk away with.
The cabdriver's eyes looked in the rearview mirror with curiosity. I'm sure we weren’t the first couple in his cab to commit lewd and lascivious acts.
I tried to act like this was any other cab ride. I kept a stone face.
When we reached the marina, I handed the driver a wad of cash, then escorted my shoplifter down the dock. She seemed impressed with the size of my boat, ahem. By the time we burst into the salon, our lips were glued together.
Her velvety tongue danced with mine. Her lips were soft and pillowy, and my hands explored all of her glorious curves. I reached down and grabbed a handful of round assets. Pretty soon, the hemline of her skirt was over her hips, and my fingers felt around her black lace panties. Her skin was smooth and warm. Her breathy moans filled my ears, and I breathed in the scent of her shampoo.
I pulled her body against mine, and our hips mashed together. She lit a fuse in me, and I burned with desire. We couldn’t get out of these clothes fast enough.
Her frilly lace panties ended up on the deck rather quickly. We tumbled around in the salon, and I was determined to see just how sturdy the dining table was. Her petite body fit mine perfectly. Moans of ecstasy filled the salon, and Buddy howled in tune. The little Jack Russell got one hell of a free show.
Somehow, the table survived round one.
We moved below deck, but didn't make it past the companionway before testing the structural integrity of the bulkheads. Finally, we tested the firmness of the mattress in the master suite.
I can confirm every aspect of the vessel was sound.
The feisty little vixen brimmed with passion. This was the kind of woman that didn't do anything half-assed. She wasn't afraid to tell me what she liked, and I wasn't afraid to give it to her just the way she asked. We were both people pleasers, each trying to outdo the other.
It was almost like a competition.
I knew she was trouble. But at the moment, I didn’t seem to care. She was impulsive, rash, daring, and fearless. She was also a hell of a lot of fun.
Even before it was over, I was dreading the end. As soon as I collapsed beside her, I craved more. I lay there, buzzing with ecstasy. I was in a state of pure bliss. Sweaty, exhausted, and fully satiated. I held her close, and she nuzzled against my chest.
"You are a lot more fun than I expected," she said.
I lifted my brow, not sure whether I should be offended.
"What did you expect?"
"I'm not sure. I never had sex with a cop before."
"Deputy," I said.
"I have a theory about men," she said.
"Do tell."
"Do you ever wonder why you see really hot women with really unattractive guys?"
<
br /> "It's the money."
"Most of the time. But it's also the sex. You show me a less than average looking man, and I'll show you a guy that will go down on a woman and stay there until he gets lock-jaw."
I chuckled.
"Men who look like you don't have to work as hard for it. You're so goddamn good looking you could be terrible in bed, and women would still fuck the shit out of you."
A cocky grin tugged at my lips. "So, you had a good time?"
An orgasmic growl escaped her plump lips. "Let's put it this way... You could teach a masterclass."
"Practice makes perfect," I said.
"In that case, maybe we should do it again, if you're up to it?"
The luscious brunette had no trouble igniting my flame. We went at it even harder than the first time. I don't know what time we finished, but we weren't all that far away from sunrise.
Afterward, she cuddled beside me for a moment, then kissed my cheek and slipped out of bed. She scurried into the en suite and took a shower. She emerged a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around her torso, and somehow, she had managed to keep her hair completely dry. She scooped her tiny black dress from the floor and she shimmied it over her hips and slid the straps over her shoulders.
"Are you leaving?"
"You're observant."
"Oh," I said, surprised, trying to downplay my disappointment. I hesitated, then said, "Will I see you again?"
I must have looked like a sad puppy dog because she moved to the bed and kissed me. "No. Tonight was perfect. Why spoil it?"
Usually, I was the one trying to weasel out of ongoing relationships.
"Don't look so sad, Deputy Wild. You’re a big boy. I'm sure this isn't your first one-night stand."
I couldn't deny that.
"We’re both dangerous. Things could get sticky. It's better this way. Besides, you’re the kind of man a girl could fall in love with. And I don't do love."
She gave me a long, passionate kiss, then pushed off the bed.
"Maybe we should exchange numbers, just in case one of us gets a craving?" I suggested.
She smiled. "That would be bad. I might call you all the time."
She slipped out the hatch, and I heard her feet patter down the companionway and up the staircase. Her high heels and her panties were scattered about the salon. She scooped them up, put on her shoes, and I heard them clack across the deck. The sliding glass door slid open and closed, and the little thief disappeared into the night.
She hadn't stolen my watch, or my wallet, but she may just have snatched my heart.
15
"Bad news," JD said when he called the next morning.
I was frying up a spinach omelette with cheese and few slices of bacon. The pan sizzled and popped.
"What happened? You strike out?" I asked.
"No, the news isn't that bad. I mean it's bad. But, I did okay. You? Did the little troublemaker get the punishment she was looking for? Did the judge hand out a long sentence?"
I rolled my eyes. "Something like that."
"Is she going to make an appeal?"
"No, she already made a jailbreak"
"Gone for breakfast?" JD asked, surprised. "Did she steal anything?"
"Not that I know of."
"You going to see her again?"
"I don't even know her name."
"Impressive," JD said. "I know her name."
"Really," I said, flatly.
"Amelia liked to talk, among other things."
"What's her name?"
"What's it worth to you?"
"I don't know," I said, trying to act disinterested.
"You're not going to see her again, so why does it matter?" JD asked, playing devil's advocate.
"Professional curiosity."
JD changed the subject. "Daniels called this morning. The ballistics on Calvin Edwards .45 didn't match the slugs found in Olivia Carson."
"So, he used a different gun," I said, confident we had our suspect dead to rights.
"Calvin wasn't lying," JD said. "He was with the two girls, Jasmine and Destiny. The girls posted a live video on social media during the time of the murder. They were with Calvin, flashing all kinds of bling that the idiot had just stolen a few days before. We've got him on the burglary. But he didn't kill Olivia Carson."
My jaw tensed.
"We've got to keep looking," JD said. "I say we go talk to Chuck's mistress. She has as much motive as anybody."
“Alright, I'll be ready in a few."
"Oh, by the way, I talked to the DA about Dita’s situation."
"What did you find out?"
"They're dropping the charges," JD said. "I didn't even have to ask."
"Why are they dropping the charges?"
"The arresting officer got into hot water. There were a number of cases where he pressured suspects for sexual favors in exchange for making evidence disappear. The DA is dismissing all cases involving the officer."
"I'm sure Dita will be ecstatic."
"You’ll look like a hero. I'm sure she'll reward you somehow," Jack said in a sly tone. "I'll swing by and pick you up in a little bit."
I hung up the phone and sent Dita a message with the good news.
[Yay! You’re the best!]
[I didn’t really do anything.]
[You did a lot. Come into the club sometime and let me repay you.]
[Maybe.]
[Pfft. Cum!]
She attached an emoji that winked and stuck a tongue out. There were worse things in the world than having Dita Von Bosch wanting to repay a favor.
I finished my breakfast. A little while later, JD picked me up in the lizard-green Porsche, and we went looking for Ivy Quinn.
"I've been doing some digging," Jack said. "The lease ran out on Ivy’s last apartment six months ago. Seems like Chuck has a shell company that rents an apartment at Coconut Vista. How much do you want to bet Ivy Quinn lives there?"
He zipped across town to the luxury complex. The elevated building had parking underneath and about fifty units spread across five floors. We strolled into the lobby and took the elevator to the 5th floor. Jack and I knocked on apartment #506.
The units were equipped with video doorbells.
A moment later, a sultry voice filtered through the speakerphone. "Who is it?"
"Ivy Quinn?" I asked.
"Yes…"
JD flashed his badge in front of the lens. "County Sheriff. We’d like to ask you a few questions."
"What about?"
"Olivia Carson's death."
"Do you have a warrant?"
"It's just routine," I said.
The intercom crackled for a moment with dead air.
"Do I need a lawyer?"
"Do you have anything to hide?" JD asked.
"No. Of course not."
"It's up to you, ma'am,” JD said. “Just trying to get any information that might be helpful."
There was another long silence.
"Okay. I'm at the pool on the roof. I'm wearing a teal blue bikini."
JD and I exchanged a glance.
We made our way to the elevator and zipped up to the rooftop pool. It was like a posh resort area. Palm trees in large planters swayed with the breeze. There was a swim-up bar, a grotto with waterfall, and plenty of lounge chairs and sunshades. Music thumped through outdoor speakers. They were placed strategically around the rooftop to maximize sonic quality.
"I can see why Chuck left his wife," JD said as he caught sight of the teal bikini.
Ivy Quinn was a platinum blonde, with gorgeous blue eyes, red lips, and unsinkable curves. Her tanned skin was oiled and glistened in the in the brilliant sun. The skimpy fabric barely contained her pert breasts.
She sat up on her elbows as we approached and waved.
"Ms. Quinn, I'm Deputy Donovan, this is Deputy Wild," Jack said.
There was a half-empty piña colada on the glass stand next to the lounge chair.
"I really don
't know how I'm going to be able to help you. I didn't have much interaction with Mrs. Carson."
"No, I imagine not," I said.
"Where were you on the night Olivia was murdered?"
"Here. With Chuck." She paused. "I didn't kill her, if that's what you’re getting at?"
"I didn't say that you did," JD replied.
"Chuck said he was at home watching TV."
She stammered, "Well, he probably didn't want to admit he was with me. I'm sure you can understand."
"How long have you and Chuck been seeing each other?"
Ivy shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe a year?"
"Where did you two meet?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"I used to dance at Forbidden Fruit. Chuck was a regular customer."
"His company pays for your apartment," JD said. "I'm just guessing things are pretty serious between you two?"
"Yeah, I guess. Chuck's great. Really nice guy. Takes care of me."
"Was Mrs. Carson aware of your relationship?" Jack asked.
"She knew. I think they had an understanding. I really didn't talk about it with Chuck."
"Did you want him to divorce his wife?"
"I'm not sure," she said, her face scrunching up. “Don’t get me wrong. I love him. But I like my freedom, too. I like having my own place and being independent."
"You're not exactly independent if Chuck pays for everything," Jack said.
She glared at him.
"I guess your relationship is going to change now that his wife is no longer in the picture," I said.
"What are you getting at? And what does this have to do with Olivia's murder?"
I shrugged. "Nothing. I guess. But you are angling to be the next Mrs. Carson, aren't you?"
Her eyes narrowed at me. "I don't think I like the direction this conversation is heading."
16
"It's not me you're interested in," Ivy said. "Vivian Sawyer is who you should be talking to."
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"Everybody knows they hated each other."
"Because of the tennis rivalry?" I asked.
Ivy laughed. "Well, that's part of it. I think the fact that Olivia slept with Vivian's boy-toy might have more to do with it."
