Hell in a Handbasket

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Why do you look so worried?”

  He hesitated a moment, then said, “Mason Deveraux is in town.”

  Was he worried that I’d be happy to hear the news? Or worried it would upset me? “I know,” I said softly. “I saw him yesterday.”

  His eyes hardened. “You saw him?”

  “Not purposely, if that’s what you’re thinkin’. I ran into him at the Piggly Wiggly late yesterday afternoon.”

  “I thought you were banned from that place.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Does everyone know?”

  “I’m not everyone, Rose,” he said in a dark tone.

  I lifted a hand to his face and stroked his cheek with my fingertips. “No. You’re not.” I dropped my hand to my lap. “I was picking up a prescription, and they didn’t want to give it to me . . . because of the ban and all, and Mason was suddenly there, cajoling the pharmacy tech to give me my prescription anyway.”

  “I don’t need the details,” he said in a gruff voice, his fingers digging into my hips.

  “It’s important you know that I didn’t plan it. I had no idea he was even going to be in town until I saw him.”

  “And?” he asked.

  I lifted my eyebrows. “Are you askin’ me if I want him back?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “We talked in my truck afterward.” I held his gaze. “And we’re talkin’ again this afternoon in my office. Our conversation didn’t go well yesterday, and I need for it to end differently.”

  He started to pull away, but I grabbed his wrists and held his hands in place.

  “I know you don’t understand, but I have to do this. It’s the only way I’ll really be free of him.”

  “Do you want to be free of him?”

  I lifted my chin and gave him a look of defiance. “He doesn’t deserve me.”

  “Neither do I,” was his gruff response.

  I relaxed my hold on his tense arms and placed my hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath.

  He froze, staring at me as though he wasn’t sure what to do, a rare look for him.

  “You see me for who I am and you’re still here,” I said, my hands sliding up to his shoulders. “That means more than you know.”

  “You mean because you lost your visions?” he asked, parting my legs as he stepped closer.

  “Before that.” I tilted my head back to look up at him. “Last winter. You saw the real me before anyone else. You believed in me before anyone else.”

  “So you’re here with me because I saw you first.”

  “No . . . but part of the reason is that you saw me . . . and you liked what you saw. You didn’t try to change it.” I leaned my head back to look up at the clear blue sky. “I’m not explaining this right.”

  His face lowered to my neck, and I felt the lightest touch of his lips to my skin.

  My body tensed as if I’d been shot with a jolt of electricity.

  His hand at my hip snaked around the small of my back, hauling my groin hard against the bulge in his jeans.

  I gasped and tried to lower my head to look at him, but his face had moved lower, his mouth and tongue blazing a path to the top of my sundress.

  His other hand rose from my hip to the strap of my dress, slowly tugging it and my bra strap down over my shoulder. His mouth remained on my skin as his finger hooked over the fabric of my dress and slowly tugged it down, exposing my nude-colored bra.

  I held my breath in anticipation.

  His hand cupped my breast, his finger sweeping up to find my nipple.

  I gasped again as heat shot straight to my groin, and he tugged me tighter to his bulge. I lifted my leg to wrap it around his waist, but the gun in its holster was in the way.

  As though reading my mind, he pushed the thin fabric of my dress up my thigh until the gun was exposed. He dropped both hands to unstrap the harness and drop it onto the truck bed. He reached under my dress and tugged my panties off, and I had half a mind to stop him. Anyone could drive back here and see us, but I knew the chances of that happening were slim to none. And if nothing else, I knew James would never put me in danger. He might lose his head when he was with me, but his concern for my safety would always trump his own needs.

  He dropped my panties next to my holster and then returned his attention to my sundress, pulling the strap on the other side down and easing the fabric all the way off. My bra came off next, and he tossed it aside.

  I sat in front of him naked except for the thin swath of fabric at my lap, while he was completely clothed. Reaching for the hem of his shirt, I lifted the fabric slowly, exposing his abs and his chest as though I was unwrapping a gift, taking in the sight of every ripple of muscle. When I got to his shoulders, he took over, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it close to my bra.

  I unfastened his belt before shifting my focus to unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. I started to pull them down, but he grabbed my hands and stopped me without explanation.

  Staring down at me with a hunger that stole my breath, he lowered his mouth to mine and showed me how much he wanted me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him as his lips and his teeth and his tongue devoured me. I kissed him back with my own hunger, fueled by the growing ache deep inside me. By the time he lifted his mouth, I was gasping for breath, my body burning with need. Without thinking, I reached for his jeans, tugging at the heavy fabric, but his mouth had lowered to my breast, pushing him out of reach and making me lose focus as the fire in my groin grew hotter.

  I cried out as the ache spread, desperate to be satisfied.

  He moved to my other breast, giving it the same attention as he had the first, which was why I was surprised when his finger slid inside me with the gentlest of touches. I shuddered and pushed into him.

  I moved both hands to his hips, sliding my fingers between the fabric and his skin and pulling the fabric down over his hips enough for him to spring free. Smiling, I wrapped my hand around him and stroked.

  He rose up, staring down at my face with his finger still inside me. His thumb stroked my bundle of nerves while his finger worked its own magic. I gasped again, and he grinned as he wrapped an arm around my upper back, holding me up as he lowered his mouth to my breast to resume what he’d started.

  Soon he had me writhing and panting, until I was close to begging him to give me what I needed, but the small part of me still capable of reason knew it wouldn’t be fair to him unless I made something perfectly clear.

  I grabbed his face with both hands and jerked him up to face me. “This isn’t a yes. Not yet. I need more time. There’s so much to think—”

  His eyes darkened. “I know.”

  Then his hand slipped out from between my legs. I thought he’d changed his mind until he grabbed my leg and pulled it up to his waist, sinking deep inside me with one hard plunge.

  I arched my back and moaned, pushing against him.

  He set a frenetic pace, but I matched it beat by beat, until I’d climbed so high that I was sure I’d pass out from the lack of oxygen. And then I exploded into a million pieces, losing myself as we came together and wave after wave of pleasure washed through me. The pleasure was overwhelming, but I was never once scared I’d lose myself because James was holding me tight in his arms.

  I opened my eyes and found him staring down at me in wonder. I grinned. “You never cease to amaze me.”

  He laughed. “I think that’s supposed to be my line.”

  I lifted up and placed a soft kiss on his lips, and he kissed me back, his passion tamed into gentleness.

  His face lifted and the tenderness in his eyes startled me. “You don’t have to say yes, Rose. You have so much to lose. If I were a better man, I’d rescind my offer.” A wicked grin lit up his face, but I saw the darkness in his eyes, the regret and self-loathing. “But I’m not a better man, and I want you. I want every part of you I can get.”

  A new fire sprang to life inside me at his words. “You know I want you
too. Surely you have no doubt of that.”

  His fingers dug into my hip and hauled me closer to him. “No, that one thing I’m sure of.”

  I laid my cheek on his chest, my heart aching. What was I going to do?

  Chapter 18

  James broke away first, pulling up his pants, then walked around to my driver’s door and looked inside. I’d already put on my bra when he came back with several napkins. I tried to take them from him to clean myself, but he silently refused, taking over the task instead. I let him, and he then slid my panties up over my feet and pulled them into place. I started to fix my dress, but he brushed my hands away, gently slipping the straps over my shoulders and placing a kiss on my collarbone. This might be our last time together. If this was what he wanted, I’d willingly give it.

  After he put his shirt back on, he strapped the gun holster to my thigh, his fingers tracing my skin after he’d secured it in place.

  “So you’re workin’ Patsy Sue Clydehopper’s case,” he said, placing a feather-light kiss on my inner thigh.

  My breath stuck in my throat, and he glanced up at me with a grin.

  “I hear things,” he said. “What I can’t believe is that you’re tryin’ to prove her innocence.”

  “Neely Kate thinks she is innocent.”

  “And you?” he asked, his hand trailing higher and sending a shiver through me.

  “I can’t think when you do that,” I said.

  His grin spread, but he stood and sat on the truck bed next to me, wrapping his arms around me and snugging me to his side.

  “So you’re working this case for Neely Kate’s benefit?” he asked.

  I couldn’t see any harm in telling him the truth. “And mine. Between worrying about Violet, dealing with Mason, and trying to figure out my answer for you, I needed the distraction.”

  “You truly think she might be innocent?” he asked in disbelief.

  “I haven’t formed an opinion yet. I spoke to her family this morning and found out some interesting information.”

  He glanced down at me, waiting.

  “Her family thinks Carol Ann got into town last week, but her niece and a cousin from her father’s side both claim she’s been back for a good two months.”

  He nodded.

  “You knew that?” I asked, turning more to face him. “Why would you know about Carol Ann Nelson?”

  “Because Carol Ann had big aspirations.”

  “Her business,” I said.

  “You found out about that?”

  “I know she was asking her family for money to help seed it, but no one seems to know what it was. I suspected it had something to do with drugs given the connection to Big Thief Hollow, but then Patsy’s sister said Carol Ann was tryin’ to make her mother proud.”

  “She wanted to open a club.”

  I blinked in surprise. “A club? What kind of club?”

  “A gentleman’s club.”

  “What? How would that make her mother proud?”

  He laughed. “Some mothers would be proud.”

  I suspected Lucille Nelson wasn’t one of them. Then it hit me. “Do you think she was raisin’ money to buy Kip Wagner’s file?”

  He looked surprised by that. “First of all, we don’t even know what’s in Wagner’s mysterious file. Second, why would Carol Ann Nelson have hooked up with some teenage kid to mastermind the robbery? And third, a club is different than a prostitution ring.”

  “But she could have run a prostitution ring from a club.”

  “It would be pretty damn stupid of her. Simmons would be breathin’ down her neck at the first sniff of it. And that doesn’t even touch on the first two points.”

  “You said you knew she was trying to open a club. That would cost way more money than her family would be able to give her.”

  “That’s why she came to me. A mutual acquaintance introduced us.”

  “You had a business meeting with Carol Ann Nelson?” For some reason, the thought bothered me.

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it a business meeting. A guy I know dropped by with Carol Ann in tow. He asked to speak to me, so I went out to see to him and agreed to meet with them in my office as a courtesy. The meeting lasted all of five minutes. I told her I’d be a fool to help her open something that would be direct competition to my own club, and even if that wasn’t an issue, she had a shit business plan. I told her to find something else to do.”

  “How long ago was this? Why doesn’t Jed know about it?”

  “Because she came in while he was in Oklahoma with Neely Kate.”

  “So three weeks ago . . . What was she doin’ the first month or so she was here?”

  “Who knows? I suspect Carol Ann wasn’t all that driven.”

  Still, a month was a long time to do nothing. It seems like she’d have had something to occupy her. I suddenly wondered how long she’d really been sleeping with Calvin. “She was having an affair with Calvin Clydehopper.”

  He grinned and shook his head. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The guy has a holier-than-thou attitude and a closet full of skeletons. Clydehopper’s on the city council, and he voted to zone Wagner’s pawn shop, something that goes against his previous voting record. I suspected Wagner has something on him, but I’ve never found out what.”

  “Could the information in Wagner’s file be dirt about Calvin?”

  He thought for a minute. “Maybe, but I doubt it. It wouldn’t be valuable enough.”

  “What if Wagner’s providing prostitutes to Calvin?”

  His brow furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, Calvin’s secretary thought Neely Kate and I were prostitutes when we walked into his office yesterday. She said young women just drop by and disappear in his office for a bit before going on their way. Calvin’s secretary hinted that a lot of women had come and gone, and we both know Calvin’s not good-lookin’ enough to have that many cute girls droppin’ by his office for sex. If he’s getting prostitutes, they have to be from somewhere.”

  James grimaced.

  “Wagner admitted he was ticked about your no-prostitution policy. What if he’s had a ring going for the past few months and you didn’t realize it?”

  He didn’t look too happy with the question. “That would mean I have a serious breach in my information network.”

  I thought for a moment. “Could be the file’s a list of his usual girls. What if Carol Ann knew about it? Maybe she found out that those boys were gonna break into the pawn shop, and she hit her family up for money to help buy the file from them? The timing’s right.”

  “How much was she hittin’ them up for?”

  “Several thousand dollars.”

  He considered it. “I suppose it’s possible. She came to me about her business. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that she made the rounds and approached Wagner too. She may have gleaned something about the file while meeting with him, but honestly, it’s a stretch.”

  I had to agree with him.

  He was silent for a moment. “Patsy, on the other hand . . . if he had information on her, I can see why he’d want it back.”

  “You know something about Patsy Clydehopper?”

  “Let’s just say there’s a reason she’s the most successful real estate agent in Fenton County.”

  “Patsy’s sister said her friend accused Patsy of ripping her off. Do you know what she’s been up to?”

  “Look,” he said, holding me tighter. “You’re puttin’ me in a tricky situation.”

  “You’ve done illegal real estate deals with her?” I asked in disbelief. Of course, I had no reason to be surprised. He’d done all kinds of illegal deals, some of them much worse than this.

  He stared down at me, holding my gaze. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  Did I? If I said yes, I’d be opening one of the remaining doors that stood between us, but I suspected I didn’t want to know eve
rything about the criminal stuff . . . but how would a relationship between us work if we kept so many secrets?

  “Hey,” he said softly, putting a finger under my chin. “Relax. I haven’t. But we’ve done plenty of legit business together. She even helped me buy the land that I built my house on, although she had no idea who she was really selling it to. I haven’t had any illegal transactions with her, but I know that she’s orchestrated quite a few of them. She’s approached me with a few of those deals before.”

  “Like what?”

  He lightly stroked my arm. “She’ll get an appraiser to artificially inflate or deflate the worth of a property, depending on who she’s dealing with. Let’s say she wants to make a huge profit, she’ll get the appraiser to mark up the value and the bank will grant a loan to the buyer. Or if she’s wantin’ to buy property cheap, she’ll have the appraiser lower the value so she can scoop it up at a literal steal.”

  Which sounded like the exact pickle Poppy’s friend had found herself in.

  He paused, then added, “I know she had some big deal going with Denny Carmichael.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know him.”

  “He’s a meth supplier. Carol Ann’s cousin in Big Thief Hollow works for him, so it’s possible Carol Ann hit him up for cash too. If you girls decide to pay him a visit, you need to take Jed and make sure he’s visible. Denny won’t mess with him.”

  “He’s dangerous?”

  “He has the potential to be if he thinks someone’s threatening his capitalist ventures. He’s protective of his secret cook, and he’d beat the shit out of anyone who tried to put an ID on him. Or her. I don’t condone Denny’s enterprise, yet I know people use it.”

  “So you let him?” I asked, sounding as accusatory as I felt. It was one thing to condone pot—which I knew he did—but meth was the kind of drug that screwed up people’s lives and killed them.

  “Choose your battles, Lady,” he said in a low tone. “People use that shit to escape their miserable lives. I’m workin’ on a project that’s goin’ to help make their lives less miserable, and then hopefully Denny’ll go out of business when no one wants the shit he’s sellin’.”