Whiskey Sour (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 2 (Addison Holmes Mysteries)

by Hart, Liliana

  Savage gathered up his files and looked at his watch. He knew when to retreat. “I’ve got another meeting scheduled for today. Can you meet me tomorrow afternoon? Around three o’clock? I’ll talk you through everything and show you what I want you to do.”

  “Sure, you can pick me up from here.” I figured that would be easiest, considering I was practically living here for the moment.

  “Tomorrow then,” Savage said and gave me the full power of his smile.

  Oh, shit. I could have just made a very big mistake. That was definitely interest in his eyes, and I could tell he’d thought he’d won this round with whatever the hell was going on between him and Nick.

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. McClean,” he said, nodding first to Kate then Nick. “Detective.” And then he was gone and I was left in the room with two people who had so much to say I could practically see the words bubbling out the tops of their heads.

  “I think I need to check in with Lucy and see if she has any important messages for me,” Kate said, looking back and forth between me and Nick.

  Nick was glaring at me, so I stood up as if I were going to head out with Kate.

  “Don’t you dare walk out that door,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Not if you’re going to use that tone of voice,” I said. “I’m a grown woman. Not your lapdog.”

  “I think I’ll take a long lunch while I’m at it,” Kate interrupted. “Really, use my office for as long as you’d like.”

  Neither of us paid attention as Kate left. I backed away as Nick stalked toward me until my hip hit the edge of Kate’s desk.

  “He’s using you,” Nick said. “And you’re so blinded by his looks that you’re not taking any time to think this through. This isn’t a game. It’s dangerous.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, poking my finger into his chest. “I’m not blinded by anything. I’m not an animal in heat who heads toward whatever alpha male is left standing after a fight. I’m doing this because I need a job. You probably haven’t heard, but I’m currently unemployed.”

  Nick winced and I watched the anger drain out of him. “The school board fired you?”

  “Right the first time.”

  “Shit, Addison. I’m sorry.” He pulled me into his arms and just held me for a minute. It was everything I could do to keep from crying.

  “It’s okay,” I said, pulling back far enough that there was space between our bodies. “I’ve got a plan.”

  “I’ve heard. It involves you sticking your nose into business you’re not trained for and possibly ending up in a hotel room with your throat slit.”

  I waved his concern away. “You’ll keep me safe. And anyway, I’ve got a new plan. I’m going to get my private detective’s license. That way you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  “Jesus,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s like the world is conspiring against me.”

  “Hey—”

  “No, I’m fine with it. Really,” he said, holding up his hands as a peace offering. “I’ve known you long enough to recognize that stubborn tilt of your chin, and believe it or not, it might be good for you. The process of getting your license isn’t an easy one, and you’ll at least learn to keep yourself out of trouble. Hopefully.”

  Nick looked off into the distance as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just said. I was having a hard time believing it too.

  “Who are you, and what did you do with Nick?”

  “Very funny. I mean it,” he said with more enthusiasm. “This will be good. You need a strong dose of caution in your life, and this is the way to get it.”

  “You know,” I said, moving back into his arms and dropping my voice so it rasped with sultry charm. “You might not know this about me, but I’m pretty competitive.”

  Nick’s eyes twinkled with laughter as he backed me up against Kate’s desk. “I never would have guessed that about you.”

  His fingers dug into my hips and he lifted me up so I sat on the edge of the desk. He settled comfortably between my thighs and I sucked in air as I felt him hard and ready against me.

  “I’m going to want to be the top of my class, and I think the only way to do that is to get a private teacher to show me the ropes. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone, would you?”

  I nipped at the corner of his mouth teasingly and reveled in the power as I watched his eyes go dark with lust and his body tighten against me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and twined my fingers into his hair as his mouth ravaged mine. I moaned as he licked into my mouth and whimpered as he ground himself against the most sensitive part of me. I was a hairsbreadth away from climaxing in the middle of a busy office building in the middle of the day. And I didn’t give a damn.

  “Damn,” Nick said as he broke away. “I’m supposed to be on duty. I’ve got to go back to work.”

  “Right. Kiss me again.”

  I gripped his shirt and pulled him back towards me, fitting my lips against his. He didn’t put up much of a fight, but eventually we were going to have to take this to the next level and I knew this wasn’t the time or the place.

  “Tonight,” he said. “We can hold off for—” He stopped and looked at his watch. “Another five hours. And then we finish this. Once and for all.”

  I shuddered against him, so close to the edge it felt like someone was sending electric shocks across my skin.

  “Right. Tonight,” I panted. “I can wait five hours. No problem.”

  He unwound my legs from around his waist and took an unsteady step back. I hated to tell him, but there was no way he could go out into the hall in his condition. Someone was bound to know what we’d been up to.

  “Christ, I feel like a teenager.”

  “You sure don’t look like one,” I said, my eyes glued to the bulge in the front of his slacks.

  He laughed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to get himself under control while I hopped off the desk and went to grab my purse and the file Agent Savage had left.

  “I’ll leave first. You look like you need a little time to—” I motioned my hand toward the area that had decided to impersonate the Hulk and felt the heat rushing to my cheeks. “You know,” I finished lamely.

  I opened the door to Kate’s office and looked back at Nick. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Addison,” Nick said, the seriousness in his voice completely at odds with his swollen lips and disheveled hair. “If Agent Savage has any plans of taking my place as your mentor tomorrow, I swear to God, I’ll rip his balls off and shove them down his throat.”

  “Okeydokey,” I said, wide-eyed. “I’ll send him the memo.”

  I closed the door behind me and practically ran out of the building. I had to kill four hours and fifty-six minutes. I figured I might as well get some work done while I was waiting to get my world rocked.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Summer was a slow time of year for the agency. It was too damned hot to do anything that required a lot of energy, so adultery was down and fraud was up, since you could usually do that sitting in the comfort of your La-Z-Boy with a computer in your lap and a stolen credit card.

  That being said, I only had one other case on my plate right now, and that honor belonged to Noogey. I wasn’t in the mood to go another round with dumpsters or rabid dogs on steroids, but I didn’t get paid if I didn’t put in the hours, so I had no choice but to jump head first into the DeLuce case. At least that was how I was justifying it.

  My phone rang and I saw my mother’s name pop up on caller ID. I immediately switched it to go directly to voice mail and waited until she’d left a message. I could already feel the headache brewing behind my right eye. Maybe I had a tumor.

  Addison, this is your mother—

  I rolled my eyes hard enough to make the throbbing start behind my other eye.

  You left the house this morning so early I didn’t get to tell you I’m leaving town for a few days.

  She giggled like a schoolgirl and I
could hear Vince mumbling something in the background.

  Vince is taking some vacation time and we’re going to the Bahamas. Isn’t that exciting! I’ve left some casseroles in the fridge for you. Gotta go. Love you.

  The message ended and I felt a little lighter of heart. I wouldn’t have to face my sex fiend of a mother, and I’d still get to sleep in my own bed until I found a new place to live. Life was good.

  I dug the file Agent Savage had given me out of my bag and flipped it open, bypassing the photograph of Amanda Whitfield and going straight to the page about Natalie Evans. She had seven escort services under the Sirin name, starting in California and moving east to Washington D.C. The Savannah office was the flagship office and where Natalie spent the most time since one of her homes was here.

  I put the Volvo in drive and wound my way through the streets, waiting patiently for tourists to cross and pretending I was back in my Z instead of a boat with wheels. Natalie owned a home in Forsythe Park in the Victorian District. That wasn’t a neighborhood that would hide used Volvos with rusted bumpers, but I could probably get away with checking out her house if I acted enough like a tourist.

  I stopped by the drugstore and grabbed a few essentials—a disposable camera, a new pair of sunglasses, a cap to help hide my face, trail mix, a diet coke and a forty-eight pack of condoms. Nick had seemed pretty desperate, and I believed in being prepared.

  The thing about me and disguises was that I pretty much felt invincible whenever I wore one. I got a huge burst of courage and a little extra attitude, and all of a sudden my Volvo was the equivalent of the Batmobile and I was Magnum P.I.

  I popped in an Amy Winehouse CD and cruised towards Natalie Evans’ home like I was her new neighbor. The old Victorian was in prime condition, painted the traditional three colors of cream, olive green and yellow, and there were two turrets and a widow’s walk up on the third floor. A black, wrought iron picket fence surrounded her corner lot, and two huge magnolias shaded the entire property. The front gardens were lush, and even now, there were two men tending the flowerbeds and pruning shrubs.

  I took a side street so I could glimpse the back of the house, but it was hidden by a ten-foot privacy fence. The three-car garage was shut down tight and the driveway was empty of cars. It never hurt to get a feel for how people lived. And it never hurt to become familiar with places in the daytime that you might have to scope out at night. Those were only two of the many lessons I’d learned the hard way over the past few months.

  I did a sharp U-turn and was heading back toward the city when my phone rang again. I almost ignored it because it would be just like my mom to keep calling until I answered so she could make sure I wasn’t lying by the side of the road in a ditch somewhere, which always seemed to be a fear of hers for some reason.

  I didn’t recognize the number, so I took a chance on answering.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Addison, I need your help.” Rosemarie’s voice was choked with tears and hysteria.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” I automatically headed the car back towards Whiskey Bayou.

  “It’s Baby. I was out walking her by the old highway and a rabbit streaked right in front of us. You know she can’t control herself,” Rosemarie sobbed. “She took off after the rabbit and got hit by a car.”

  “Oh, no,” I winced in sympathy. Rosemarie’s two Great Danes, Baby and Johnny Castle, were like her children. Really, really big children that had a tendency to eat the furniture and poop old shoes, but children nonetheless.

  “I’m stuck here by the side of the road. I don’t have my car and I can’t pick Baby up to carry her to the vet. The bastard that hit her just kept on driving, but I got a partial plate number. After I get hold of the culprit, they’ll be pissing blood for weeks.”

  My eyes widened and I pressed my foot harder on the accelerator. “I’m on my way. Just stay calm. Baby will be okay.”

  I kept Rosemarie on the line so she wouldn’t commandeer some poor schmuck’s car and leave him by the side of the road while she went to get help for Baby, and followed her directions until I saw her.

  It was hard to miss Rosemarie, especially in hot pink bike shorts and a matching sports bra. Her hair was disheveled, and black mascara ran down her apple dumpling cheeks. Baby was sprawled across her lap, panting wildly with big eyes filled with pain. Blood covered her back legs.

  I dug around in the trunk of the car and came out with an old quilt that was good for picnics or rescuing bleeding dogs and I laid it in the back seat. I went over and knelt down next to Rosemarie.

  “This dog has to weigh a hundred and fifty pounds,” I said, trying to figure out how we were going to get her in the car.

  “She likes her bacon, don’t you girl?” Rosemarie crooned.

  I thought about the pair of shoes and matching handbag Baby ate the last time I was at Rosemarie’s for dinner and thought the bacon was the least of her weight problems.

  Baby whimpered and raised her head enough to lick Rosemarie right in the mouth. I scrunched up my nose and gave a mental eww as I watched Rosemarie return the kiss with delighted fervor. It was probably a good thing Rosemarie was single.

  “Okay, I’ve got it,” I said, going back to the car to get the blanket. I spread it out on the ground beside Baby. “We just need to get her on the blanket and then we can lift her without hurting her leg too much.”

  “Right,” Rosemarie said. “Good plan. Get on the blanket, Baby. Can you do that for mama?”

  They went into another kissing fest and I got on the other side of Baby to help move her over. Baby growled and turned her head to nip at my hands, and I jerked back quickly, having no desire to be Baby’s version of raw bacon.

  “Baby! Don’t do that,” Rosemarie chided. “Auntie Addison’s just trying to help. Now lets get on the blanket and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

  Rosemarie shifted and we both pushed gently until Baby was sprawled half on the blanket. I was sweating like a pig and my hair fell limply in my eyes. Rosemarie was huffing and puffing like a steam engine, and her face was nearing the color of her spandex.

  “Come on, Baby. Just. Get. On. The. Blanket,” I gritted out. We shoved a final time but couldn’t budge Baby.

  “Mama will cook you up a whole package of bacon if you get on the blanket,” Rosemarie said in a singsong voice.

  Baby’s head perked up and damned if that dog didn’t crawl on her front two legs until she was in the middle of the blanket. I rolled to my hands and knees and gulped in great gasps of air, trying to find the energy to get Baby into the car.

  Rosemarie wasn’t doing much better, and I vowed there and then that I’d have to get in better shape if I was going to become a serious private detective. Something besides hot yoga and kickboxing, both of which I only did with mediocrity. Those were two activities that were only good for putting yourself in potentially embarrassing situations. Mostly I went because the instructor was hot and we got to work out to 80’s hair band music. There was nothing like rocking out to Motley Crüe while stuck in the downward facing dog, trying not to pass out because the hairy Italian man next to you smelled like used condoms and asparagus.

  “Come on,” I panted. “We’ll die of heat stroke if we stay out here much longer.”

  Rosemarie had a manic look in her eyes and I felt a pang of sympathy for whoever hit Baby. She was a step away from going vigilante on their ass, and I didn’t have the strength to pull her back into reality. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I wanted to. Only problem was I couldn’t afford to bail her out of jail in my current financial situation.

  We stumbled to our feet and each grasped a corner of the blanket, lifting Baby up with what was surely a feat of superhuman strength brought on by desperation. We got her settled in the back seat of the car and I drove them the rest of the way back into Whiskey Bayou to Doc Wilson’s clinic.

  It took almost two hours to get Baby and Rosemarie stabilized and all the paperwork filled out.
I’d found an uncomfortable chair in the waiting area, and was reading up on at home dog enemas and how to survive your pets’ terrible twos when Rosemarie finally came out. She looked like someone had stuck a pin in her balloon and deflated her completely.

  “Doc says Baby’s gonna be okay,” she said, smiling bravely. “She needs to stay here for a couple of days, but I can come back Monday and take her home. If you hadn’t gotten to us in time, Baby could have died.”

  Rosemarie started crying again and I felt the initial panic bubble inside me whenever tears appeared. I wasn’t one of those people who dealt well with tears. They made me feel useless and uncomfortable, and I never really was sure about the best way to respond. I wasn’t one of those naturally nurturing people like some. Usually I just stood around looking like an unsympathetic idiot, even though I truly felt bad for whoever was suffering.

  “It’ll be okay,” I said quickly, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. “Let’s get you home, and I’m sure you’ll feel better after a nap. And maybe a bottle of wine. I know I will.”

  I drove the three blocks to Rosemarie’s duplex and got her settled inside with a Robert Downey Jr. marathon, Junior Mints and a box of wine. I needed to go home and shower and do the sex preparation ritual—it takes a lot of work to look casual and sexy and like you’re not trying all that hard, while choosing appropriate clothing that’s accessible without making you look too easy. Being a woman was fucking complicated.

  I pulled the car into the driveway and let myself into the house, basking in the silence and my aloneness. I had the sudden urge to jump on all the furniture and run around in my underwear, but I restrained myself and headed straight to the shower.

  I was staring at how giant my pores were in the magnifying mirror and waiting on the water to warm up when my cell rang. Nick’s number popped up on the screen and I tripped over the toilet to turn the water off, bruising my shin in the process.

  “Hey,” I answered only slightly out of breath. I was revved and ready, the anticipation of what was to come as much of a turn on as any other foreplay I’d ever had. “My mom is off cavorting with Vince for a few days so the kitchen table is all ours. Of course, I’ll never be able to eat dinner there again after what I plan to do to you.”