Wicked Women Whodunit

by Davidson, MaryJanice

  “Mmm, you taste so good,” he murmured, coming up for air. His glittering gaze swept her face. “I don’t know why you’re doing this to me. I didn’t intend for anything to happen, but I can’t help myself. Maybe it’s the stress from today,” he said, confirming her notion. “Or maybe,” he said, sliding his fingers along the inner rim of her coverup, “you’re just a witch in disguise. Is this how you plan to disarm me?”

  She leaned against him, her limbs languorous. “You’re the one who is too distracting. I can’t think straight around you.” When he brought his other hand into play to cup her breast, she swayed. Between her legs, warmth pooled into a cauldron of sensation. He sealed her response with more kisses. Matching his ardor, she met his hot tongue with her own explorations. She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, that both of them were reacting to Gary’s death. But the wild abandon seemed so right for the moment. They could have fun tonight, forget about everything, and face reality tomorrow.

  Rex squeezed her nipples, teasing them into tautness, while her eyelids fluttered closed. Not minding when her towel loosened, she splayed her fingers on the broad planes of his back, enjoying the ripple of muscles beneath his flesh. Wanting to explore all of him, she pushed down on his shorts.

  “Cut the lights,” he muttered.

  “Huh?” Realizing what he meant, she sprang back from his embrace. “Dear heavens, I forgot about the cameras. They’ll nail us.”

  “Wait, it’s after twelve, isn’t it? Logan said the video would be turned off in our rooms after midnight.”

  “They can still hear our conversation. The microphones are active.”

  “So? No one can see what we’re doing.”

  His sexy grin threatened her resolve. So did the way his ebony hair tumbled across his forehead. Tightening her mouth, Heather met his steady gaze.

  “Look, moral character is an important trait for a B&B owner, and I don’t want to screw my chances just because I’m attracted to you,” she said. “Don’t you care that you might lose the opportunity to win your precious boat? Or was it your intent to show me in a bad light? There’s usually a double standard where gender is concerned.”

  A shadow crossed his expression. “That’s unfair. What I feel toward you is genuine.”

  “Oh, and what is that?”

  “Respect. And something more. You can’t deny that you feel it, too.”

  “We barely know each other. You want exactly the opposite of what I do.”

  “That’s not true; we share more than you think. We both need to forge our own destinies, just in a different manner.”

  “You’re aiming to live on a boat and sail off fishing every day. You said it yourself; I’m a landlubber. My place is here. Besides, I’m already in real estate. What have you done to work toward your goal?”

  “My uncle used to take me fishing; that’s how I got interested. I’ve been reading up on the boating industry ever since. Used to hang out at the docks and clean the big yachts when I had more free time. Now Dad keeps me busy in the shop.”

  “And you’ve never told him about your ambition?”

  A painful look entered his expression. “He relies on me to carry on the business. Dad is one of the few skilled craftsmen left. He taught me all I know about woodworking. When I get my boat, I plan to fix her up real nice.”

  She tucked her towel in more securely. “How much will your vessel cost?”

  “The owner is asking two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, but I’m sure I can get him down. That’s why I need to win.” He glared at her. “If I sell this house, I’ll have enough money to buy the boat plus pay my expenses. You’ve got fees for dock space, fuel, electric. Then I can still help Dad when I don’t have charters.”

  “So you’re planning to spring this on him all of a sudden? I feel sorry for your father.”

  His gaze hardened. “I’ve been answering to him my whole life. I don’t have to answer to you now, too.”

  “No, you don’t,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I’m glad you’re so clear on your goals. That makes two of us.” She opened her door for his departure. “Good night.”

  Wouldn’t you know it, she thought to herself, here I meet a hunk who seems to like me, and he’s set on sailing off into the sunset. You just can’t rely on anyone these days.

  They had to rely on each other the next day. Fortunately, their teamwork got a boost when high-speed Internet and telephone service were activated before noon. Guessing that the studio’s influence might have speeded things up, everyone was thankful nonetheless.

  Much of Saturday morning was wasted in answering more questions from the detective and stopping for personal interviews on camera with Logan. Applying her listening skills, Heather learned that the gardening implement used to crack Gary on the head had been found in the backyard. The shovel was clean of prints, making it likely the perpetrator had worn gloves, which had not yet been recovered. And Kim had a verifiable alibi for her time away from the group, but Jackson wouldn’t say what it was.

  Rex, in charge of lawn care as well as home maintenance, shrugged off the police investigation when the remaining contestants met in the dining room for lunch.

  “Let the cops do their work. If one of us is guilty, they’ll find out. In the meantime, we have a job to do.”

  “How can you overlook the fact that someone here might be a killer?” Heather retorted, dismayed by his harsh tone. Not that she believed her fellow contestants would stoop to such vile methods. It had to be an intruder who thought Gary was the homeowner, and that it would be an easy robbery.

  “If you stop running your business every time something bad happens,” Rex said, “you’ll be out on the street before you take your next breath. You can’t operate things that way.”

  “He’s right,” said Jon. “We have to focus on the tasks at hand. Hey, Sarah, these spinach crepes are really great.”

  “Thanks,” their colleague yelled from the kitchen.

  “Yo, dudes, we gotta eat and run, ya know?” Dave cut in. “I’ve set up basic programs for registration and billing, and contacted the credit card companies. We have to wait until Monday to do the legal stuff. So I’m gonna spend some time out back. It’s my job to balance the pool chemicals and skim the surface. Kim, babe, wanna take a dip when I’m done?”

  Kim’s face lit up, as though donning a bikini held more appeal than doing inventory and making more requisition lists for mundane things such as hangers. “Good idea,” she purred, casting a smug glance at the rest of them.

  “Who’s signed up for computer time after me?” Dave said.

  “I am.” Heather raised her hand.

  Taking her turn at the console set up inside the ground floor room they’d designated as an office, she set about finding supply houses that could customize orders for her tropical theme. After signing on to WordPress, she created a rudimentary web page and uploaded it to her personal server. This would give them a presence on the Web for now.

  Deciding she needed a break after designing a promotional flyer, linking to various reservation sites, and sending out a flurry of queries, she rose and stretched. Her mouth felt dry, so she meandered into the kitchen for a cold drink.

  Opening the refrigerator door, Heather helped herself to a glass of iced tea, then leaned against the counter. “Lunch was delicious,” she told Sarah. “You’re a terrific cook.” The shorter woman with the pixie haircut was just taking a batch of mouth-watering chocolate chip cookies from the oven.

  “Thank you,” Sarah said in her somewhat shy tone. “This kitchen is wonderful, but cooking for eight people isn’t what I’m meant to do. If I win, I’ll sell the inn and use the money to set up an old-fashioned diner. You know, mom’s home-cooked meals served to order? I couldn’t afford to go to a fancy culinary school, but I could make a diner work. What about you?”

  “I love this house. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I can’t wait to accessorize the rooms and give them my personal signature, so it hur
ts that anyone might sell the place.”

  “Aren’t you in real estate? Couldn’t you get a good deal somewhere else?”

  “I don’t have the money. My parents live up north, and I want to bring them down to live with me. They’ll have moving expenses. My mother is ill, so I can’t wait too long.”

  In a way, Heather wanted them all to succeed. They had to work as a team to pull everything together in time. But after the show ended, only one of them would remain as proprietor.

  Her glance slid over the granite countertops and stainless steel appliances before fixing on the window view to the pool and the lake beyond. If only this house were hers. Longing swelled within her and produced a lump in her throat so large that for a moment, she almost couldn’t swallow.

  She watched Dave cavorting in the pool with Kim. Loud splashes and laughter reached her ears while she snatched one of the cookies Sarah offered. The soft texture melted in her mouth. Baked cookie dough was one of the most tempting aromas. She couldn’t resist taking another.

  “Did you see anything outside last night?” she asked Sarah. “You had a perfect view.”

  Sarah’s short blond hair fell across her face as she turned aside to wash the cookie sheet. “The shades were closed.”

  “Could you hear Gary at all? Or maybe you saw Dave on his way to the garage.”

  “No, I was busy, uh, doing the dinner dishes. I didn’t notice a thing.”

  Why did Heather get the impression Sarah was lying?

  “Oh, man, what’s that good smell?” Rex stomped into the kitchen, tracking cut grass with his running shoes. Sweating, he wiped a hand across his brow. A band of cloth kept his hair from his eyes but not the grime from his face. “Whew, it’s hot out there. That lawn hadn’t been cut in weeks. I’m glad Jackson finished his inspection of the grounds so I could get it done. What are you girls up to? Hey, are those cookies? Gimme one.” He grinned, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin.

  Heather’s glance flickered over his powerful body, quite dashingly displayed in his gray T-shirt and shorts. She gulped at the view of his bulging biceps. Of all the people she hoped would remain on the show with her, he was the one, and yet his aspirations were in total conflict with hers. He wanted to get away from his father; she needed to bring her parents closer. He wanted to live on a boat; she set her roots on land. Yet the more she wanted to pull back, the more she felt attracted to him. He worked hard, and he didn’t display any animosity toward anyone. His attitude could be ruthless, but he had their best interests at heart. They needed that right now. Just like she needed him, in a different way.

  Rex caught her looking at him, and his grin broadened. His aquamarine eyes sparkled playfully. “I’d better get cleaned up before Kim comes back inside, or she’ll howl at me for messing the floor. Did you get your brochure done?” he asked her. “There’s a neat feature in my shower you might want to describe for potential guests. Come upstairs, and I’ll show you.”

  Her blood surged at the notion of seeing him naked under the shower spray. “That’s okay,” she deferred, giving him a blatant once-over. “Remember, Logan said we need to dress up for tonight. It’s an important session.”

  The doorbell rang, and she went into the hallway to see who was there. A delivery truck idled in the driveway. Jon beat her to the door, while Rex bounded up the staircase.

  “Who the hell ordered these?” Jon hollered when he saw the invoice. “Gerard!”

  The answer came to light when they all sat gathered in the formal living room at eight o’clock. Logan and Tanya were present, as well as various technicians who’d set up for different camera angles. Cables, normally absent from the hidden cameras during the day, trailed across the carpet.

  “So which one of you ordered ten hand-painted toilet seats with gold-plated hinges at one hundred dollars each?” their host asked, beaming his capped teeth at them. “That’ll take quite a cut from your budget.”

  When no one responded, Heather glanced at Rex, who had repeated his theory that the producers had planted someone to create havoc. She shared this with Jon beside her.

  He snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he whispered. “Tanya especially needs this show to succeed. Logan mentioned that her last project took four months longer to complete at the added cost of two million dollars. The studio execs aren’t happy with her. Then again, it could be one of you trying to bust my ass because I’m in charge of finances.”

  “Tonight, it’s your vote that counts,” Logan told the viewing audience. “Somebody here has to go. Who will it be?”

  Five

  Logan pointed to each one of them in turn, and they saw their close-ups on the monitor. “Kim Allen, who currently works as a manicurist and wants to open her own glamorous day spa. Let’s see what Kim’s colleagues at home think about her goal.”

  Kim’s mouth dropped open as the monitor segued to a taped segment featuring interviews at the salon where she worked. “Omigod, when did you do this?” she cried.

  Tanya smirked. “If you leave your current job, it’s going to affect the people you work with. It’s only fair to get their reaction.”

  Heather glanced over her shoulder at Rex, wishing they’d been seated closer together. His tight-lipped face had gone pale. Dear heavens, what if they’d spoken to his father? Now the older man would be aware his son planned to leave him.

  “Jonathan Walker,” Logan continued. “Jon works as a clerk in an attorney’s office. He hopes to finish his college degree and open a collections agency. Jon, your boss wishes you the best.”

  None of them had been allowed to tell their coworkers where they were going, just that they needed a leave of absence for personal reasons. Heather had realized they’d be exposed on national television, but not everyone watched reality shows.

  “Did you vote for him?” Logan said into the camera. “Is Jon still in the competition? Stay with us, and we’ll have the results coming up shortly.”

  Commercial break. Michelle, clearly rattled, rushed out to the bathroom. Heather got up to approach Rex.

  “This must feel like a stab in the back. Perhaps your dad was too busy to be interviewed,” she offered, touching his arm.

  Rex’s eyes glimmered. “He’ll think I’m abandoning him. Damn, and we’re not supposed to call home for the entire week.”

  “Rex seems to think he has something to hide.” Tanya took over when they went live again. With instant replay, his dialogue was repeated over the air. Heather heard his muttered curse. “Rex Andrew Gerard works in his father’s furniture repair and restoration shop. They are expert wood craftsmen, and his dad has owned the business for thirty years. Let’s see what Gerard Senior has to say about his son’s desire to captain a charter fishing boat.”

  Her gaze glued to the monitor, Heather soaked in the sawdust-strewn linoleum floors, worn worktables, upended chairs, and implements scattered throughout the studio. She could almost smell the lemon oil polish, paint varnish, and turpentine. A man with a sun-freckled complexion and gray hair shuffled into view, wearing a leather apron over a short-sleeved shirt and trousers. His eyes, shaded with a curtain of pain, exuded the same aquamarine clarity as Rex’s.

  “When I opened in the early seventies, this place was surrounded by cow pastures and horse ranches,” Mr. Gerard said to Logan on-screen. “I worked hard to establish a reputation in town. Then an influx of New Yorkers swelled our ranks, and Davie, Florida, became more like a Fort Lauderdale suburb.

  “The people who moved here brought a lot of their stuff from up north. My business thrived, and I was proud to be part of the community. Nowadays, you’ll find very few men with these skills. We used to take Shop when I went to school. Now kids learn computers. I made sure Rex knew how to use the tools, though.”

  He cleared his throat. “He seemed to appreciate the craft. You could see it in his eyes when he’d sand down a piece. Wood likes to be caressed, you see, like a lady. Each cut has its own unique grain. Guess I was
wrong about my boy.”

  Logan held the microphone closer. “How do you feel about his fishing enterprise?”

  The older man shrugged. “Takes after my brother, I suppose. Jules got him started with the fishing bug. Took him out to sea every time he visited. I can’t figure why the boy didn’t say anything to me,” he said, his tone gruff.

  “If Rex wins the prize and gets his own boat, how do you feel about him leaving you here alone?”

  Heather’s heart sank. This couldn’t be more painful for Rex than if they’d pried off his toenails. She didn’t dare look back at him but imagined him staring stoically ahead.

  “I reckon I’d manage, but it isn’t easy these days. Arthritis, you know. I was kinda hoping to retire in another year if he’d take over. The boy never said nothing to me about giving it up.” His voice cracked, and the camera focused on his bewildered expression. Then the monitor faded, and the live broadcast resumed.

  “Well, Rex, doesn’t that make you feel like a heel?” Logan said, grinning broadly. “So, American viewers, what have you decided? Will he remain on the show? Coming up next, advice for the person who leaves the competition.”

  Heather kept her place, hands clenched in her lap. Sweat dripped between her breasts. She yearned to comfort him, but not while the entire nation watched. Her own segment should be better. She’d already shared her dream. Thus, shock riddled her features when she saw an exterior shot of her parents’ hovel in West Virginia. No, they weren’t going there. What happened to her real estate office?

  “We thought this next clip would have more impact if we spoke to Heather’s parents,” Tanya crooned when the session resumed. Perfectly coiffed, she spoke with sugary sweetness from her glossed lips. “Her real estate friends already knew she searched for the perfect bed-and-breakfast, but her parents had no inkling of her intention to bring them south. Let’s see what they say on the subject.”