Kiss Me Deadly

by Susan Kearney

  They’d won?

  Mandy had never won anything in her life. She’d never been lucky—except with Gabrielle.

  They’d really won?

  For a moment she could only stare, trying to reconcile Sylvia’s news with her own shock. Dana’s laughter bubbled out in the evening air, driving home the news, and Mandy sank back in the chair, clutching the phone.

  Sylvia could have told her that a UFO had landed in downtown Tampa, and she might have believed it more easily. The odds of winning the lottery were . . . astronomical. She’d never have bought a ticket except the other girls talked her into it. She was far too practical. Yet, someone had to win. Why not them?

  “You’re sure?” she asked, still hesitant.

  “You bought the usual numbers, right?”

  “Yes.” Every week one of the women at the law firm was responsible for buying a ticket. They always played the same numbers. “This week was my turn.”

  “Where’s the ticket?” Sylvia asked.

  “I have it right here.” Mandy dug into her purse, opened her wallet, and extracted the new ticket. Giddy with excitement, she fought not to stammer. “I’ve got it. 3-5-15-16-38-42. With the Powerball slot of 65.”

  “You hang onto that ticket, girl. We’re rich.” Sylvia spoke as if she was still in shock. “We’re all megarich.”

  They’d won the Powerball jackpot.

  It was unbelievable. Incredible. Shocked, stunned, Mandy wasn’t sure what to do. Jump up and down? Pump her fist over her head? She knew she needed to tell her mom, hold Gabrielle and swing her in circles until her sweet face lit up with laughter. Then perhaps winning a boatload of money might feel real. What a week. Fate certainly had her scrambling. On Tuesday, she’d almost died, and on Friday, she’d won . . . what? What exactly had they won?

  “How much?” Mandy’s heart thudded. She had no idea what the ten-state Powerball jackpot was up to. She wasn’t much of a gambler; she’d just joined the office pool to share the fun with the other six women—Catherine, the senior partner and founding officer; Mandy, Dana, and Maria, the younger partners; Sylvia, their secretary; and Lisa, the paralegal.

  And oh, wow. Together, they’d all won the Powerball jackpot.

  “It’s amazing. We won one hundred and eighty million dollars.”

  “Oh . . . my . . . Lord. “With six ticket holders that leaves us thirty . . . million . . . each.” Not in her wildest dream of achieving financial security had she ever thought to have this kind of wealth. She was rich. Megarich.

  “We have one of only two winning tickets.”

  Mandy frowned, trying to concentrate. “What did you say?”

  “There are only two tickets, and we have one—”

  “What happens if the other ticket isn’t claimed?”

  “Then we get it all. But that’s not—”

  Nerves had Mandy smiling, laughing and talking at the same time. “I bought two tickets with the same numbers. The first one was destroyed during my accident.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “When my purse was retrieved, I checked, and the ink was gone on the ticket. I ripped it to shreds, flushed it down the toilet, and bought a second one.”

  “Oh, God.” Sylvia’s voice dropped to a whisper. “That means we’ve won three hundred and sixty million dollars. Sixty million each.”

  Even after taxes . . . they’d be set. More than set. It was a good thing Mandy was sitting because her knees had turned liquid and her insides to jelly. Never again would she have to worry about her family’s financial future. She could afford to send Gabrielle to Harvard and her mother to Paris and . . . sheesh, she could buy herself any new car she wanted, take a vacation, work less and spend more time at home. The possibilities made her giddy. If her knees weren’t so weak, she would have stood and danced. Instead, she leaned over and hugged Dana, who hugged her back, her smile wide, her eyes lit with laughter.

  Sylvia squealed in delight through the phone. “I wish I could kiss you. This means Ben and I can buy a house for each of our kids and set aside money for the grandkids. Just last week, I was reading up on a new experimental surgery our health insurance refuses to cover that might improve Ben’s quality of life. Can you imagine?”

  Ben, an ex-cop and paraplegic, had taken a bullet to the spine one week before he’d retired. Yet, the man amazed everyone who knew him. Every day, he packed Sylvia a homemade lunch. He sent her flowers on each one of their seven children’s birthdays, and on Sylvia’s, he’d bought front-row seats to the ballet and even accompanied her without complaining. They’d been married forty-five years and still adored one another.

  Sylvia giggled like a young woman. “Tell Dana I’m giving my two weeks’ notice.”

  “Just like that?” Mandy checked her watch. The winning numbers had been announced less than thirty minutes ago. “You didn’t have to think about quitting for very long.”

  “I’m sixty-five. I have luxuries to buy. Exotic places to go. People to spoil.”

  All smiles, Dana tapped Mandy on the arm. “My mother said she’d prefer that we keep our win out of the press for now. Please tell Sylvia.”

  “Tell her yourself.” Mandy handed Dana her phone.

  For Dana and Catherine, the win wouldn’t change their lives so very much. They were already wealthy. But for the rest of them, winning meant . . . more security than she’d dared ever dream of.

  They’d won the lottery. Sixty million dollars. The amount kept looping in her head. Six-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero. She stared at the ticket, barely able to comprehend how much her life would change. Her future suddenly seemed as wide as the Pacific and just as limitless.

  “We all should speak to our lawyers and accountants immediately.” As she talked to Sylvia, Dana sounded as though she’d been planning to win this kind of money for years. “Once word gets out that we won, people and charities will line up at our doors with their hands out. While I plan to donate some of this windfall, there’ll be lots of cons seeking to pull one over on us. We also have an obligation to our clients to keep their cases on track. The less distractions from the press, the better.” Then she hung up the phone and grinned at Mandy. “Lisa and Maria aren’t answering their cell phones. They still don’t know.”

  “You sound so calm.” Mandy held out her hand to see her fingers shaking. Eagerness to tell her mother bubbled through her, but Dana motioned for the waitress and ordered a bottle of champagne. “Money doesn’t solve every problem.”

  Mandy thought of the babies Dana wanted so badly and thought she understood. But right now was a time for celebration. She picked up the ticket. Lisa could now pay for law school. Sylvia would retire and travel. Mandy didn’t have a clue what she’d do. Winning didn’t seem real. Not yet. “Can you believe this is worth three hundred and sixty million dollars?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Dana shushed her, but a smile brightened her eyes.

  “I’m not sure I can control myself. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. We won. We won. We won.” Mandy held out her glass for the bubbly. “I still can hardly believe it.”

  “Believe it. You deserve the money as much as anyone. Go ahead and daydream. Dream big.” Dana poured them both champagne and shot her a fond grin.

  Mandy’s cell phone rang, and she checked caller ID. “It’s Lisa.”

  “While you talk to her, I’ll call Sam.”

  As Dana speed-dialed her husband, Mandy answered Lisa’s call with a broad smile. “Hi. You’ve heard?”

  Lisa’s excitement hummed through her voice. “Everyone’s heard.”

  “Who is everyone?”

  “The press are camped outside my apartment . . . as if I’m some kind of celebrity. I suppose I am. We all are. I’m going to law school. Now, I don’t have to wait on the scholarship.”


  “You’ll make a great lawyer. I’m so happy for you. For us.” Mandy laughed and heard Lisa’s doorbell ringing. “Did you say the press is outside your apartment?”

  “All three television stations sent vans, both the Tribune and the Times are asking for interviews. My roommates can’t even get out of our driveway. My phone just keeps ringing. I can barely make an outgoing call.”

  “How did the press find out so fast?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Knowing Dana needed to do damage control, Mandy quickly ended the conversation and interrupted Dana’s call to her husband. “Word’s out. The press is camped on Lisa’s doorstep.”

  Dana groaned, her lips tightened in annoyance. “Sam, I have to go. Love you.” She turned to Mandy, her brows knitted. “I’ll make security arrangements.”

  “What for?”

  “We’ll all need professional help to control the media frenzy.”

  “We should be fine—at least until we go home.”

  “A secret this big won’t keep.” Dana flipped open her phone. “I want to try Zack one more time.”

  Mandy didn’t protest. Zack hadn’t answered the phone in weeks. Maybe her luck would hold. Dana speed-dialed and picked up her glass. “Let’s make a toast.”

  “To luck?”

  They clinked glasses. “To luck.”

  With her phone still to her ear, Dana brought her glass toward her lips, then halted and broke into a delighted grin. “Zack? Is that really you?”

  Mandy’s stomach dropped. She had always known she couldn’t avoid Zack forever, but just like winning the lottery, knowing Zack was on the other end and the moment of truth might be at hand didn’t seem real. Life suddenly seemed out of whack, turned upside down from normal. Her luck seemed to be swinging on a pendulum—from very, very bad to very, very good to very, very uncertain.

  Chapter Six

  OVER THE PHONE, Zack pretended a lightness he hadn’t felt in a long time. He loved his work, but he missed his family and the unexpected call from Dana was a welcome distraction. He spun on his barstool to gain a little privacy, snagged a bottle of whiskey from the bartender, and poured another shot. “So how’s my favorite sister?”

  “I’m your only sister.”

  Dana’s slight southern drawl reminded Zack of Florida—brilliant sunlight, violent thunderstorms, summer lightning, hot nights, and . . . Mandy Newman. One reason he hadn’t returned Dana’s phone calls was because he couldn’t seem to talk to his sister without images of her best friend showing up in his dreams—which was odd because Dana had never brought up Mandy’s name during one of their rare calls.

  As time passed, he should have forgotten Mandy. But it didn’t happen. During the day he could put her out of his mind. But at night, images of Mandy’s body moving over him, her long legs wrapped around his hips, seeped through the mental barriers he erected during the day. He wished he could forget how good they’d been together that long-ago night. But he hadn’t.

  So he sipped his whiskey and pretended to his sister and himself that the amazing night with Mandy had never happened—pretended that he and Mandy hadn’t connected beyond a good time in the sack, or against the wall, or in the shower. Pretended they hadn’t been . . . insatiable. Pretended that the time leading up to that incredible night hadn’t been special.

  Pretended he had a normal sex life. After all, it wasn’t memories of Mandy but his work that he blamed. When he went undercover, he was in full survival mode. Even casual hookups could lead to deadly complications.

  Zack downed his shot of whiskey and cleared his throat. “So you’re in L.A.?”

  “When I left you those messages, I thought we’d get together, see what you look like.”

  Zack winced and checked his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He looked a hell of a lot better than four weeks ago, but the fading yellow bruises could still be seen, as could the scar on his forehead that had required ten stitches. He didn’t relish the idea of his sister telling their mom what her son looked like.

  When he didn’t respond, Dana changed the subject. “So can you break from the case?”

  “We wrapped up last month. I’m waiting for . . . reassignment.” That wasn’t exactly a lie, but not quite the truth, either. He needed to be cleared first.

  “That’s perfect,” Dana continued, “I could use your help.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Dana’s tone changed from sister mode to confidential and businesslike. “I need you, Zack.”

  Dana needed him? “What’s wrong?” Zack stood up from his bar stool so fast a bit of dizziness overtook him, a lingering side effect of his fight.

  “Apparently, I’ve won the Powerball jackpot.”

  Zack whistled and moved slowly until he leaned against the bar. “Good looks, brains, and fabulous luck, too. Now you can afford to do all the pro bono work you’ve always—”

  “Listen, Zack. I need you to run interference with the press until we go home on Sunday.”

  We? He stared into the bottom of his empty shot glass, thinking hard. “Who is we and why do you need protection from the press?”

  She ignored his questions. “When they find us, they’re going to descend like locusts.”

  “No kidding.” The press could be annoying, but surely his sister could handle them.

  “And we’re practically in your backyard. We’re leaving the day after tomorrow, so you could use your magnificent agent skills to keep the press away.”

  “I don’t work between assignments anymore.” Besides, he was far from normal, never mind magnificent. These days he’d recovered enough to walk mostly without pain, but he still barely felt fit for work. He also knew his sister well enough to realize that she hadn’t told him who she was with because she realized if she did, he’d say no. That meant she’d brought along either her husband Sam, or Mandy. He’d never liked Sam but had tried to hide his dislike from Dana. Contrarily, Zack had liked Mandy too much. But since an undercover agent’s work could put him out of touch for months, even years, there was no point in renewing their . . . acquaintance.

  “I don’t know anyone else out here I trust.” Dana knew exactly which of his buttons to press.

  He shifted from foot to foot, torn between downing another drink or doing as Dana asked. He would like to see her.

  “Come on, Zack. What’s the big deal? Mandy and I need you.”

  Damn it. It was Mandy.

  “Someone did try to kill her last week.”

  “What?” Someone was trying to kill sweet Mandy? He tossed bills on the bar and headed toward the exit. “What are you talking about?”

  “Meet us at the Park Hyatt at ten, and we’ll tell you all about it.”

  Leave it to his sister to make him forget his depression for the first time in weeks. When she hung up on him, Zack swore again. Then he laughed. He was going to see Mandy, and he was actually looking forward to it.

  ZACK ARRIVED at their hotel before Mandy and Dana and had staked out a quiet corner in the bar with his back to the wall and a view of the entrance. He ordered whiskey but didn’t touch his glass, preferring to contemplate . . . possibilities. Since he and Mandy had hooked up, he’d avoided asking Dana questions about Mandy during his infrequent phone calls to his sister, and she’d volunteered no details. None. In fact, he couldn’t recall Dana ever once mentioning Mandy’s name. Now that he thought about her omission, it was strange. The two women were best friends. They’d met in law school and worked in the same law firm. They’d won the lottery together, had come out to L.A. together. They obviously were still tight.

  Zack concluded that either Mandy had married or that she’d specifically asked Dana not to mention her. But that would mean Mandy had told Dana about their night together. Yet the morning he’d left, Mandy had said she wouldn’t tell D
ana what had happened. So unless Dana had guessed the truth, either Mandy had changed her mind and spoken to Dana about them . . . or she was married.

  He’d bet on married, and he checked his anticipation in order to lessen his disappointment. What man wouldn’t be attracted to Mandy? Especially if they knew what kind of passion lurked behind her lawyer facade?

  The first time Zack had met Mandy, during the Christmas holidays while she and Dana were in law school, she’d seemed sensible, practical, down-to-earth. She worked hard, her discipline impressive. Her attention to detail and her schedules had tempted him into teasing her, but his impression of her didn’t change until that sultry-hot week when Mandy had thrown aside her day planner. She’d cooked him dinner. They’d walked on the beach. Watched a classic Trek rerun. Talked for hours. And he’d learned that she really knew how to let loose.

  He recalled the last time he’d seen her, naked and tangled in the sheets, her hair tousled, her lips swollen from his kisses, and his groin tingled. Damn. If just the memory of her could get to him, what would seeing her again, protecting her again, do to him?

  It’s only for the weekend. He’d only come because Dana had said someone had tried to kill her.

  And since when had he started lying to himself?

  He wanted to see Mandy. To him she represented sexy goodness. Life. Happiness. Home. Of course he’d probably put her on a pedestal in his thoughts because during his darkest hours, he needed to remember that the entire world wasn’t full of greed, betrayal, and death.

  Mandy was one of the good people, and he’d treated her badly. He hadn’t even called to say goodbye . . . but the DEA had immediately sent him undercover. Six months later when he’d finally been free to sneak a few discreet personal phone calls, he’d figured it was too late to repair the damage. He’d only stir up lingering feelings that should be left to die a natural death.

  Zack heard the click of heels on the marble floor of the hotel foyer. His gaze took in Dana, but he concentrated on Mandy. Eyes sparkling, laughing at something Dana had just said, she walked with a confident feminine sway that made his mouth water. His gaze automatically targeted her left hand. No wedding band. The constriction around his chest eased slightly.