Wicked Women Whodunit

by Davidson, MaryJanice

  Tess fought down fear and assessed her situation. The entryway to the living room was behind her left shoulder. She could turn and run, hang a fast right, and get out the front door. “So you’d like me to take the check and pretend that I sold my e-mail to the tabloid?”

  Her green eyes narrowed. “It’s a fair trade-off. You get to live and have some extra money.” She jerked the gun in a threat.

  Tess’s house phone rang.

  Maureen jumped.

  Tess leaped up from the chair, turned, and arced around the wall to race for the front door.

  “Stop!” Maureen screamed.

  Tess heard the gun fire. She tensed for a bullet to tear through her, but she kept running. No pain, no shock of a bullet ripped through her back. The door was only a few feet in front of her. She reached out for the door handle with two hands, one to grasp the knob, the other to turn the lock. Then she pulled it open.

  “I’ll shoot!” Maureen screamed, her voice getting closer behind Tess.

  She would have run out the door, but Ark stood there in the entrance. Oh, God. “Run!” She screamed at him.

  He was looking behind her. Then he leaped at Tess. He was fast. He bowled her over like a football player. Knocked her flat to the ground and covered her body with his.

  They both heard the gunshot.

  “Shit. Damn, that hurts,” Ark said in a low voice.

  Tess could hardly breathe. Her bruised left wrist screamed in pain. But all that went away when she realized Ark had been shot. She wiggled, desperate to get out from under him.

  “Hold still!”

  She entwined her legs around his, then levered herself and flipped him off her. He grunted in real pain, but she ignored that and rolled up to her feet.

  Maureen held the gun in both hands, but her face had paled. She looked down at Ark.

  Tess glanced down. Blood. Right calf. Tore through his pants. He was trying to get up. “Stay down,” she ordered him, and then looked back at Maureen.

  “You made me shoot him,” she said in a thin voice. She lifted her gaze from Ark to Tess. “You made me shoot him!” Shock was giving way to anger. She moved the gun toward Tess.

  “Maureen!” Ark bellowed.

  Damn it, he was getting up! Tess didn’t look away from Maureen, but in her peripheral vision, she saw Ark grab on to the foyer table to pull himself up to his feet. She sized up her options.

  “Maureen.” Ark’s voice cracked, but he was up to his full height. He held out his hand. “Give me the gun. It’s over. I called the pol—”

  Tess knew telling her that was a mistake. “Shut up!”

  “You needed me.” Maureen shifted the gun to point it at Ark. “How could you call the police? You need me!”

  Tess had only one chance. She took two fast steps and launched into a flying kick. She caught Maureen right in her upper abdomen and rib cage with both feet.

  Maureen flew back, hit the couch, and crumpled to the floor.

  Tess slammed into the carpet. She tried to roll, but she hit the coffee table with her bad wrist. “Hell.” She rolled the other way and got up. She had to get the gun!

  Ark was already there, leaving a trail of blood. He had the gun in his hand and looked up at Tess. “She’s out cold.”

  Tess nodded. “We need an ambulance for you.” She was still thinking, assessing, trying to manage the situation. Ark was hurt, shot.

  Shot trying to protect her. He had saved her life. Again. Why?

  He sank down onto the arm of her couch. “I already called 911 on the way over. Hear the sirens?”

  “Thank you.” What else did she say? It was over. Tess could face him now. He knew she hadn’t lied. He didn’t want her; she could accept that. “I don’t know why you came back, but thank you.” Her hair was falling down in her eyes from where she had it pinned up. Her wrist throbbed.

  His face was becoming drawn from pain, with white lines forming around his tight mouth. “I don’t want your thanks, Tess.”

  Well. Okay. She took a breath. Didn’t help, she still felt as if she’d been slapped. It hurt a hell of a lot worse than her wrist. The sirens were closer. “I’ll just get a towel and put pressure on your leg.” She took a quick look to make sure Maureen was still out, then headed toward the bathroom.

  Ark caught her right hand.

  She looked down at him. “I know you’re in pain. They can give—”

  “Tess.” He tried to pull her toward him but was interrupted when the police poured into the house.

  The emergency room overflowed with people. Ark’s family, his lawyers, Giles, some other drivers, and reporters. Reporters that had been at the Speedway Hotel waiting for Ark Underwood to show up. Apparently, Maureen had thought she could deal with Tess, then get back in time to conduct the press conference.

  Tess sat in the waiting room with Gwen, Josie, and Nikki. Josie had showed up at her house the same time as the police did. Because Tess hadn’t answered her phone, Josie knew she was in trouble. Nikki and Gwen had met them at emergency and insisted Tess get her wrist x-rayed. It was only a bad sprain. Tess had resisted saying, “I told you so.”

  Gwen leaned over. “Keep the ice on it, Tess.”

  She nodded and moved the ice back to her wrist. She knew she should leave before the reporters figured out who she was. The news of Ark Underwood being shot was so big, and then add in the fact that his own publicist shot him, Tess had become fairly inconsequential. But eventually they’d sort out that Ark had been shot at her house and remember her. She didn’t want to make things any worse for Ark. She just wanted to know he would be okay. His family and Giles handled the reporters.

  “Do you want some Tylenol? You should let me give you a shot for pain,” Nikki said.

  Tess looked at all of them. She loved them, but right now ... “Do me a favor. Go get some coffee and bring me back some when you are done.”

  Nikki looked horrified.

  Josie got up. “Come on, girls. She just wants a few minutes to herself.” The three of them headed off to find the cafeteria.

  “Dr. Collins.”

  She looked up. Damn, it was the reporter who had accosted her in Josie’s garage this morning. He had slid by the Ark-family-and-friends barricade. His blue eyes were icy. “Do you feel your e-mail is responsible for Ark Underwood getting shot?”

  Her stomach cramped. Yes. And she felt guilty because Ark had been shot while trying to protect her.

  “No comment,” she said tiredly. People didn’t die from leg wounds. Ark would be fine. She should have gone home. But what if his leg was badly damaged? What if it ruined his career?

  The reporter leaned over her, putting his hands on the chair arms to trap her. “No comment? You might have ruined Underwood’s career. Was that your plan all along?”

  Tess let the ice pack slide off her wrist to the chair seat and said quietly, “Step back or I swear to God, I’ll kick your balls up into your tonsils.”

  His face went red. “You touch me again, and I’ll—”

  “You’ll get away from her.”

  The reporter let go of the chair and snapped up at the hard male voice right behind him.

  Tess jumped out of the chair so that she stood next to the startled reporter. “Ark!” He stood there, leaning on a pair of crutches. His family and friends were moving up behind him. He looked okay. “Ark, what did the doctor say about your leg?”

  He ignored her questions and asked one of his own instead. “Tess, is this the reporter that hurt your wrist?”

  She nodded, searching him over. His pant leg was cut and his calf bandaged.

  “Ark Underwood.” The reporter tried to get past her.

  Tess shoved her elbow into his stomach.

  “Ooff.” He doubled over, then wheezed, “You bitch, that’s assault!”

  Tess ignored him, but she couldn’t ignore all the people fanning out behind Ark and staring at her. More reporters were trying to shove through. Camera flashes started going off. It
was a nightmare. She was making things worse.

  Ark looked at her. “Tess, come here.”

  She glanced at the reporter to see that he was still doubled over. Sheesh, she hadn’t hit him that hard. She walked a few feet up to Ark. “What did the doctor say?”

  “I’m fine, sugar. You need to get behind me.”

  She looked at his family. His mom stood at his shoulder with two men who had to be his brothers. Friends had moved in tight, and reporters were behind them. There was no room behind him. And she didn’t belong there with all his people. “It’s time for me to go home. I just wanted to make sure—” Tears sprang up in her eyes, and she looked away, embarrassed. It had just been a long night. A long few days.

  Ark reached out, took hold of her right arm, and pulled her up to his body. “Sweetheart, I’m not letting you go. We have something special, and I’m not going to screw this up any more than I already have. I will spend the next ten years making up for the fact that I doubted you or your honesty.” He brought his hand up and wiped the single tear that slid down her face.

  Then he looked behind him. “Mom, this is Tess. Take care of her for a minute.” He gently nudged her to his mom’s side. One of his brothers moved over, creating an opening. His mom took Tess’s hand in hers; then they closed around her.

  Ark’s mom said, “I’m Stella, Tess. Ark’s told us all about you.”

  She looked up at Stella’s brown eyes. “He has?”

  She nodded. “Of course, you’re very important to him.”

  “Now,” Ark said to the reporter, “you were saying?”

  The reporter straightened up. “Do you hold Dr. Collins responsible for starting all of this with her e-mail?”

  “No. I have only one statement to make about that e-mail. I will be grateful for that e-mail every single day because it brought Dr. Collins into my life.”

  “Ark?” Tess tried to step forward, but his mom had a death grip on her hand. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving a statement, sugar. Be with you in a sec,” Ark said over his shoulder, then used his crutches to take a step closer to the reporter. He added, “And, if you ever touch her again. Or threaten her. Or get in her space. Or just annoy her. I will find you.”

  The reporter’s eyes widened while flashbulbs behind Tess went off at a dizzying speed from other reporters.

  The reporter said, “She attacked me!”

  Ark chuckled. “No doubt about it, Dr. Collins can take care of herself.”

  Swear to God, Tess heard pride in his voice.

  “But, and here’s the part where you really need to pay attention, Tess doesn’t get all riled up about reporters abusing her. I do. That’s the deal, reporters stay away from my family. And that includes Dr. Collins. Got that?”

  The reporter turned and fled.

  Tess just stood there. Ark’s mom still had a hold of her right hand.

  Ark turned and used his crutches to move up to her. “Let’s go home, sugar. I’m going to make damn sure you fall in love with me. I need to get to work on that right now.”

  “Love? But it’s so fast ...” It was all too fast. Too much. She had loved him for years anyway. What was she thinking? This was crazy.

  Ark smiled at her, the smile that deepened the cleft in his chin and shot straight through to her heart. “What did you expect, Doc? I’m one of the Fast Boys of NASCAR. I always work fast.”

  Dear Readers:

  I hope you enjoyed meeting Ark and Tess as much as I enjoyed writing their story. Both these characters have been wandering around separately in some story ideas that weren’t working. Then I tried pairing Ark and Tess up and they came to life. All I had to do was get out of their way and let their story unfold. But now Tess’s three friends, Josie, Gwen, and Nikki, are starting to grumble that they want to meet a hot guy under mysterious and sexy circumstances too. We shall see ...

  I absolutely loved combining mystery and romance in Fast Boys. But I also love writing paranormal books under my pseudonym of Jennifer Lyon. My Wing Slayer Hunter series is about a group of strong alpha witch hunters refusing to give into a dark curse, and the witches who love and heal them. Writing this series has been an amazing experience. Each of the characters has touched my heart with their powerful and heart-wrenching stories. I hope you’ll give the books a try. First is Blood Magic, followed by Soul Magic, Night Magic, and Sinful Magic.

  Happy reading,

  Jennifer Apodaca

  www.jenniferapodaca.com

  THREE MEN AND A BODY

  Nancy J. Cohen

  One

  Reality show contestant Heather Payne couldn’t believe her good luck. She had the chance to win not only her dream house, but also the business she could never afford on her own. The game plan sounded easy: get a bed-and-breakfast in Winter Park, Florida, up and running within seven days. With her experience as a real estate agent, that shouldn’t be too tough, right?

  Wheeling her Samsonite suitcase along the brick walkway from the parking lot, she scanned the house ahead with a critical eye. Two stories high, painted white with green shutters, the concrete block construction looked solid enough to withstand hurricanes. Ditto for the white tile roof. She surveyed the windows with their energy-efficient design, then swept her gaze to the double front doors finished in a cherry veneer. Fiberglass, most likely, as it made them more resistant to rot than wood, an important consideration in humid central Florida. Brilliant pink bougainvillea, red pentas, and white gardenias provided splashes of color against greenery poised to soak up water during June’s rainy season.

  Heather blinked rapidly to dispel the moisture brimming in her eyes. This house was everything she’d dreamed about, and more. Ideas flew through her head as she climbed a short flight of steps to a shaded front porch. If she added some wicker furniture, she could serve afternoon tea out here. Hanging plants would be a nice touch, too. Think what a blast she could have decorating for the holidays, and.... Swallowing, she rang the doorbell. The inn didn’t belong to her yet.

  “Heather, come in,” said Logan Samuels with a wide grin. One of the co-producers, he’d interviewed her over the past month along with his female partner. As their host, he looked like the typical TV personality: short, wavy brown hair, perfect teeth, a straight nose between two deep-set gray eyes, and a chiseled jaw. Overall, he reminded her of molded plastic. Even his suit was freshly pressed as though he’d just come from the cleaners.

  She entered a paneled foyer. Beyond an oak staircase, she saw a family room where several contestants lounged. They peered at her curiously. “Hi,” she called in what she hoped was a confident tone. Over the next week, they’d come to know each other intimately.

  “Put your stuff upstairs, then come on down,” one of the girls replied. She had a mass of blond hair and a challenge in her eyes.

  “I’ll show you to your room,” Logan said. “Since we have eight guest bedrooms, you’ll each have your own accommodation. Michelle can show you around the house later.” A woman with thick black locks gave a welcoming wave. “Once we’re all here, we’ll review the rules.”

  She noticed cameramen setting up their equipment while lighting and sound technicians took measurements. “Where will we be filmed?” she asked when they reached the upstairs corridor.

  “You’ll see. Here you go.”

  Logan opened the door to number four, a spacious, airy room with two double beds, an armoire, two chairs beside a writing desk, and a private bathroom. No telephone, television, or computer. Heather rolled her suitcase to a halt just as the doorbell rang below. After Logan excused himself, she took time to freshen her lipstick and unpack. Viewing the sparse furnishings, she pictured the coordinated linen ensembles and accent pieces she’d add to give the room a cozier ambience.

  She jumped when a knock sounded on her open door frame. “You must be the new arrival,” said a man’s rich, deep voice. “Rex Gerard. Guess we’re here for the same reason.”

  Her gaze latched on to a pa
ir of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Their aqua hue reminded her of the Caribbean Sea. Leaning lazily against the door post, the man watched while she hastily shoved her last bra into a drawer.

  “I’m Heather Payne. Nice to meet you.”

  “I hope you still feel that way by the end of the week.” In no hurry to leave, he crossed his arms over his chest.

  Her glance slid from his jet black hair to his broad shoulders encased in a ratty T-shirt. They had to wear their own clothing on the show, which didn’t seem to faze him. Shorts and sandals completed his casual attire. In contrast, she’d spiffed up in an emerald dress that matched her eyes. Tendrils of dark walnut hair blew about her face from the air-conditioning. Aware that lines of fatigue etched her forehead, she hoped the makeup artist they’d been promised would give them tips for camera work. Not that Rex needed any help. Even with his worn outfit, he looked like a guy who knew how to take charge.

  His blatant return perusal made her blush. “This should be exciting for all of us,” she said, letting enthusiasm lift her tone. “I can’t wait to get started.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Let’s go see what Logan has to say.”

  He didn’t move aside to let her pass. Instead, the corners of his mouth tilted upward while she wedged her way out the door, giving him a look down her cleavage. Was he hoping to score while he was here? If so, she intended to disappoint him. She had one goal, and one goal only: to win.

  So did the rest of the contenders. After the last person arrived, Logan and his co-producer, Tanya, gave them the scoop. Seated in the family room that faced a screened pool deck beyond a set of sliding glass doors, the contestants draped over sofas, chairs, and sat on the carpet while Logan introduced them and told them the rules for the show.

  “Today is Friday. We’ve filled the rooms beginning a week from tomorrow. That means you’ll have seven more days to get this place ready for its first guests. It will be up to you to acquire all the provisions you’ll need, design a marketing plan, prepare for registration, meet legal and insurance requirements, locate suppliers, and so on. We’ve told you how much money you’re budgeted. Go over that amount, and you all get axed.”