Dangerous Kisses (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Ramagos, Tonya

  Drake turned, his gaze landing on the gift shop back near the front doors. He saw the room again as it had looked to him that night, the dim glow of the security lights, the brighter stream of the overhead fluorescent lights in the gift shop, and shook his head.

  “The light was on. I remember that, but I don’t remember seeing her in there. Like I said, I was thinking about you and the fish.” He grinned and couldn’t help himself. “Hell, I was thinking about going fishing for you.” He looked back at Megan and saw her lips twitch.

  “Wise guy.” She rolled her eyes. “Get serious.”

  He stopped smiling and stared into her eyes. “I am.” But he did stop making a joke out of it. “I didn’t think anything about the light in there being on. Debbie has forgotten to turn it off plenty of times when she’s left for the night.”

  “Okay, go on.”

  Drake pushed through the employee door and led her to the access entrance to the penguins. “I barely had one foot through this door when I heard the scream.” As if sucked through a time portal, his world spun back to Friday night, to the moment he heard Paul’s horrifying scream. “I’m not going to describe that one for you. Let’s just say it was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  He started walking again, leading her down the back halls, through the spectator area, to the viewing glass of the tiger shark tank. “I passed by here and saw a trail of blood in the water. I didn’t see the shark, didn’t see Paul until I got to the back, up to the top of the tank.” He moved the last few steps that took him to the employee entrance to the tank.

  “I heard Debbie’s scream when I opened this door.” He pushed through the door, taking the steps two at a time to the room above. “By the time I got up here, she was at the side of the tank trying to get to Paul.” He spotted Cusack across the room, talking with a uniformed officer. The officer nodded at something Cusack said to him and left the room through the other entrance.

  Drake turned to Megan. “That’s it. You know the rest. I dove into the tank, pulled Paul out, ordered Debbie to call for an ambulance, and he died right over there in my arms.” He pointed to the place on the floor where he and Debbie had dragged Paul’s body from the tank, shutting off the memory of his friend’s face, the pain and knowledge that he was about to die that Drake had seen in the man’s eyes.

  Megan sighed. “You didn’t see anything else. You didn’t hear anything else?”

  “Hell, Megan. At that point, a fucking grenade could have exploded in the lobby and I wouldn’t have known it. I was doing whatever I could to get to Paul, to keep him alive until help got here. I wasn’t thinking about anything else.” He raked a frustrated hand through his hair and started to say more when a sound caught his attention. He spun around, expecting to find Cusack walking across the grating surrounding the tank, but the other man hadn’t moved.

  Megan put a hand on the back of his shoulder. “What is it?”

  “I heard that.” Drake’s head spun, his memory searching, unconscious senses surfacing in his mind. He walked to the edge of the tank, took a few hard steps across the steel grating. “The steps outside that back door are made of the same material as this.” He stomped his foot, and the grating clanked. It wasn’t the exact sound he remembered, but the one he had heard seconds ago had been.

  “That officer you just sent out the back, was he wearing boots, Cusack?”

  Cusack shrugged and started toward him. “I didn’t inspect his feet, but I’m sure he is.”

  Drake ignored the sarcasm in the sergeant’s tone and turned back to Megan. “You were right about that door. I don’t know how someone got in it, but I do know that’s how he got out.”

  Chapter Six

  They didn’t find any evidence outside the building to back up Megan’s suspicions or Drake’s memory. Not that Megan was really surprised. Cusack’s men had already combed every inch of the M.P. Colton Aquarium inside and out after she had discovered the knife.

  Which leaves us no closer to finding out the truth than we were a few hours ago.

  “He’s reaching.”

  Megan startled at Cusack’s body pressed against her back, his whispered words fanning her ear. She stepped forward, putting distance between them as she turned. “You think Drake is making it up.”

  “Damn right I do.” Cusack’s expression was hard, his tone callous. “And, if you weren’t fucking him, you would think it, too.”

  It was all she could do not to gape at him. Was he guessing or did he really know?

  “I spent over six months with you, Megan.” He kept his voice low, but it didn’t lessen in intensity or derision. “I recognize that look in your eyes. I knew it the instant you topped those stairs this morning. You fucked him last night. Are you going to try to deny it?”

  She sighed, knowing full well not denying would give Cusack grounds to take her badge. Still, she went with the truth. “Yes, Drake and I spent the night together last night. Our relationship has nothing to do with this case.”

  “Bullshit.” Cusack was livid. “You fuck the prime suspect in a murder case and you think the two can be separated? I should have you on report, Detective Pontius.”

  “And I should have you on report, Sergeant Cusack, for not thoroughly investigating a crime scene the moment you walked into one.”

  “What I walked in on here Friday night was the scene of an accident. There was no evidence to lead me to believe otherwise.”

  “No, of course not, except for a freaking bloody knife not ten feet away from the body.”

  “A bloody knife that belonged to your boyfriend, who just so happened to be in this room with the knife, the body, and a hell of a story to tell. He’s the one person connected to this case that doesn’t have a solid alibi.”

  “His alibi is just as solid as Debbie Norman’s,” Megan fired back. “Or have you forgotten she was in this room, too?”

  “I haven’t forgotten. She’s in on it. I’ll give you that, but it’s not Robert she’s protecting. It’s Drake Allen.” Cusack scoffed. “He’s probably fucking her, too.”

  Megan balled her fingers into a fist. God, she wanted to slap him. She held back, but she made sure he saw her anger in her eyes. “Then why haven’t you brought her in? Interrogate the hell out of her.” Debbie Norman would crack under pressure. The girl was too weak, too susceptible to hold it together for long if she had somehow been involved.

  “For the same reason I haven’t brought your boyfriend in. I’m waiting for him to hang himself. He’s one story shy of doing it, too, with the shit he’s making up now. He’s bringing you down with him, and you’re letting him do it.”

  “I’m—” Megan broke off when a door somewhere slammed so hard they could hear it in the tank room. She exchanged a look with Cusack and double-timed it down the stairs and into the main hallway where she nearly plowed into Drake and the officer Cusack had ordered at Drake’s side while Drake fed the animals.

  “Paul’s office,” Drake told her with a pointed look down the hall. “Had to be. It’s twenty minutes after eleven. Brandon and Joan should be in there with Marie and Walter by now.”

  Megan started running again, this time in the direction of Paul’s office, with the others close at her heels. She saw Brandon walking briskly away when she rounded the corner to the next hall.

  “Hey, wait up.”

  Brandon spun around, darts of fury shooting from his eyes. “Fucking bitch. I knew she would pull this shit, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop her.”

  “Marie?” Megan asked calmly, the pieces of the puzzle already falling into place.

  “Yes, Marie. She can go to hell for all I care. She calls this morning saying she wants to hold a meeting to talk about the business when all she really wanted to do was break the news that she has already made her decision.” He thrust an angry hand toward the door to Paul’s office. “I can’t talk her out of it, and I can’t save the damn place by myself. She’s giving Walter and Joan exactly what
they want. Fuck her!”

  “Watch it, Mr. Easley,” Cusack warned, his voice stern.

  “I am watching it, Sergeant. I’m watching everything my best friend worked his life to build be destroyed by his bitch of a wife.” He threw his hands in the air. “I’m done with it. I’m done with this place. There isn’t anything I can do anyway.” He looked at Cusack. “If you need me for anything, you can find me at home.”

  Cusack let him go. Megan watched Brandon as he walked away, feeling an echo of his anger and pain in her own chest. She knew why Cusack hadn’t tried to stop him. Brandon had never really been a suspect in the first place. Drake had let the man out of the building mere minutes before the attack happened, locking the door behind him. There was no way Brandon could have reentered the building, killed Paul, and gotten out again without being seen, even if he hadn’t forgotten his own keys to the facility.

  Paul’s office door opened, and Walter Samuels and Joan Baxter stepped into the hall, neither looking surprised to see the small crowd gathered a few feet from the door.

  “Is Brandon all right?” Joan asked, her attention finding Megan first.

  Megan had only seen the petite, dark-haired woman in her midforties a handful of times, but apparently Joan remembered her. “He’s pretty angry.” Pissed is more like it. She had never seen Brandon that way.

  Joan sighed, her cornflower-blue eyes full of sadness. “I knew he would be. We just can’t seem to make him understand this is the best decision for everyone involved.”

  “He’ll come around,” Walter predicted in a thick, southern drawl. The man was all country from the brim of his Stetson hat to the toe of his snakeskin boots. “He’s letting his emotions run the show, but he’ll see it’s for the best when he comes around.”

  “Where’s Marie?” Drake asked.

  Walter angled his head to the office door. “She’s still in there, said something about wrapping up some loose ends before she left.”

  Drake met Megan’s gaze. “I’m going to talk to her.”

  “If you don’t need anything from us, Sergeant, Joan and I are headed out.”

  “No,” Cusack answered. “I have everything I need from the two of you for now. You’re free to go.”

  * * * *

  Drake walked passed Megan and Cusack and peeked his head into the open office doorway. Marie sat behind Paul’s desk, her face in her hands.

  “Marie?” He made her name a question as he stepped into the office. Her head came up, a startled sound escaping her lips, and she raked a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

  “What is it, Drake?”

  He studied her, the tracks of mascara streaking her cheeks, the grief and hopelessness in her eyes, and couldn’t help but think she looked less like the bitch Brandon flew off about her being than anyone he had ever seen.

  More like the grieving widow who just made the hardest decision of her life.

  “I have something I want to talk to you about, an idea I have for the aquarium, a proposition that might appeal to you.” He stopped at the chair in front of the desk. “Mind if I sit down?”

  “There isn’t an aquarium anymore,” she told him weakly. “I’m sure you got that with the way Brandon just stormed out of here.”

  Drake nodded and took the seat. “I got that you informed the partners of your decision to sell and that Joan and Walter are behind you one hundred percent.”

  “Then you know there isn’t any idea or proposition that is going to make a difference now. Please leave, Drake. I’m not in the mood for conversation, especially not with the man suspected of killing my husband.”

  “I didn’t kill your husband.” Drake kept his tone level and held her gaze steadily.

  “Honestly, I don’t believe you did either. I know my nephew didn’t. So who does that leave? Debbie?” Marie laughed scornfully. “That naive little twit couldn’t stab a beetle, much less a man nearly twice as tall and three times her weight.”

  “Are you agreeing to sell because it’s what you want or because you don’t feel you have a choice?” Drake got straight to the point. He didn’t intend to leave this office until he got the answers he was looking for.

  “I know my husband talked to you. He liked you. He thought very highly of you. Some even said he was grooming you. I, on the other hand, am not that open, and I’m not going to sit here and divulge either the business or my personal finances to you.”

  “I didn’t ask how much money was in either bank account. I asked if you truly want to sell this place.”

  “No, I don’t want to sell it.” She all but screamed the words, her eyes filling with tears. “This place was everything to Paul. He cared about it more than he ever loved me.” She pushed her chair back, got to her feet, and walked to the glass overlooking the lobby. “Walter and Joan think I’m giving in for spite,” she said more quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself. “Joan especially. Of course, if I was doing it because of her, I wouldn’t be selling. I would be holding onto the place even if it drove me into the ground.”

  She whirled from the glass, anger sparking in her reddened eyes. “Paul had an affair with her. Did you know that?” She waved a dismissive hand before Drake could answer. “Of course you know. Everyone knows.” She pointed a finger at him. “But I’ll tell you what everyone doesn’t know.” She turned the finger around, poking it into her own chest. “I drove him to it. I pushed him into her arms. That’s something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life,” she whispered as she turned her back on him once more.

  Drake didn’t know how to respond to that, so he stayed silent. Talk about not being open. She had talked to him, told him more in the last two minutes than she had ever told him in all the years he had known her.

  He waited a beat, giving her a minute to calm down before he spoke again. “If you had a backer, not another partner, but someone to put in the money to implement the improvements Paul wanted to make to this place, would you be able to hold on to it?”

  She shook her head, but didn’t turn from the glass. “No one has that kind of money, and even those that do aren’t willing to invest anymore.”

  “I do,” Drake said simply. “And I am.”

  She turned slowly, her eyes wide and full of hope. “How?”

  “I have money in the bank, Marie. A great deal of it,” he added, purposely being vague. “Are you ready to talk now?”

  Marie walked to the office door, closed it, and returned to the desk. “Maybe I am.”

  * * * *

  Megan left Drake at the aquarium. If Marie agreed to his ideas and consented to change her mind about the sell, they could be shut in the office the rest of the day working out the details. She expected Drake would have to do some smooth talking. Marie wasn’t a woman who cowed down easily once her mind was made up on any point. Unless Marie truly didn’t want to sell. Then Drake’s proposition would be the out the woman was looking for. Hell, even if Marie was dead set on selling, Drake could be very persuasive.

  Megan slowed her car to a stop for a traffic light and felt her lips tingle in remembrance of Drake’s kisses. The pulse in her wrists jumped at the excitement of the way he had shackled them in his large, strong hands.

  Yes, he can be very persuasive indeed.

  She pushed the memories from her mind and gazed down the Biloxi strip while she waited for the light to change from red to green. Leaving Drake behind had been a good idea. She needed a few hours to herself, a few hours without thoughts about the case. To get that, she needed a distraction.

  Her gaze fell on the Grand Casino. Bad idea. She heard the warning in her mind, heard it spoken in Drake’s low baritone the way he had said it after she dared him to make a move on her that night in her apartment. She smiled. That hadn’t turned out to be such a bad idea. Maybe this wouldn’t either.

  She flipped on her blinker and eased into the empty turning lane. The traffic light didn’t give her a nanosecond to reconsider her decision. The
green turning arrow illuminated, and she pulled into the casino parking lot, heading straight for the valet.

  She recognized the attendant from the days when she had been a regular at the casino. The curly-haired blond man by the name of Jason took her keys, flashed her a brilliant smile, and wished her luck as he took her place behind the wheel of her car.

  A cool breeze greeted her as she stepped inside the casino. The familiar sounds of coins jingling and bells ringing offered her a weird sort of comfort even as excitement flittered through her bloodstream. She hadn’t come here with hopes of hitting it big, though walking out with a little extra in her pocket instead of less would be nice.

  She headed straight for the center video poker bar, spotted the bartender behind it, and grinned. “How’s life going, Ricky?” She slid onto a stool at one of the quarter video poker machines and propped her elbows on the edge of the bar.

  “Better now that you’re here.” He wiped off the top of her machine, then folded the bar towel and tossed it aside. “I was beginning to think you had deserted me.”

  “Just putting my money to better use these days.” She pulled a twenty from her handbag and slid it across the bar. “Two roles of quarters, please, and that’s all I get.”

  He nodded and took the twenty. “Still going for sex on the beach?”

  Flashbacks of her and Drake beneath the pier on the beach sent slivers of heated longing and erotic thrill down her spine. More than you know. “Good memory. Yes, please.”

  She scanned the casino as he made her drink, noted the new flashy red, white, and black slick carpet patterned with royal flush card hands, dice, and roulette tables. The walls had been painted a deep red and several rows of new slot machines had been added since her last visit.

  Ricky returned with her drink, setting it on a square napkin by her machine along with two tightly wrapped rolls of quarters. “I heard about Paul Colton on the TV. Didn’t you use to work for him, or am I thinking of someone else?”