by JL Simpson
“Did you talk to Sherman?”
Paul stopped to pat the dog, who whisked his fluffy tail across the floor in response. How come whenever she touched him, the stupid thing growled? It wasn't as if she was responsible for its original owner's murder. Maybe it missed living in a kennel with all its doggy mates, or perhaps retirement from the stud market was giving it a case of blue balls that addled its brain. Paul should find it a girlfriend to play with. Not that they needed dogs going at it twenty-four seven, giving Sherman any bad ideas.
All thoughts of the dog's sex life slipped from her mind when she was enveloped in the warm musky scent of Paul's cologne as he kissed her cheek. Showing years of practice, he flicked the teabags from their cups into the sink, before crossing the room to the fridge. She shoveled sugars into the mugs as he added milk. They were a well-oiled machine. She couldn't even begin to calculate how many cups of tea they'd consumed together since they'd first met. And with time came knowledge. Despite his tousled devil-may-care appearance, and easy affectionate greeting, Paul looked shifty.
“You haven't, have you?”
He pulled a bowl from the cupboard and Daisy handed him the box of healthy bran-based cereal. “What's to say? We had the talk before. He knows how sex works.”
“And the consequences?”
“Those too. I even offered to buy him some condoms, just in case.”
“In case what? In case he accidentally falls on his girlfriend and impregnates her?”
Paul chuckled as he slopped milk into his bowl and rescued a spoon from the draining board. “Is that how we got Sherman?”
Daisy felt her cheeks flush with heat. “You know how we got Sherman. And I know how easily you Dunlop men can wear a woman's resistance down.”
“I don't remember resistance.”
“I resisted.”
“Unless that moaning meant something other than what I thought it meant, there was no sign of resistance in the shower earlier.”
Sherman came through the door with a scowl on his face. “Are you two talking about sex again? Old people shouldn't have sex.”
Daisy grabbed another bowl out of the cupboard and filled it with Sherman's favorite cereal, added milk and sugar and placed it on the table in front of him, along with a spoon. “And neither should young people.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “So how about a deal? We won't have sex if you don't have sex.”
The sound of choking filled the air. She turned and glared at Paul, who was punching his chest with his fist. With one last cough, he cleared his throat and stared at her. “Don't you think you're being a bit hasty? It's not like he's having sex. You're not are you, Sherman?”
Their son pushed to his feet and grabbed his bowl and spoon. “I'm going to watch the telly.”
Daisy collected up her sheets of paper and slammed the lid of her laptop closed without adding anything to her document. A strong hand massaged the back of her neck as Paul placed his half empty bowl on the table and wrapped himself around her. His warm tongue flicked her ear, sending a shudder up her spine. He nibbled her earlobe and his voice was deep and sensuous as he whispered, “Tell me you were kidding with Sherman.”
A brush of his lips on her neck started a warm glow deep inside her body, but she resisted the desire to turn and finish what Paul had so deliberately started. “I wasn't kidding. We're setting him a bad example.”
“How's that? Surely seeing your parents in a warm, loving relationship is a good example?”
“Finding your dad's underpants on top of the telly and coming home mid-afternoon to moans and groans from the bedroom could be giving him a warped view of the world. He probably thinks that nothing matters more than sex. Neither of us are exactly champions at work. Now he is getting older we need to be there for him and be a better example of how the world really works. Have you seen the gyrating women on the music videos he watches? Everywhere he looks it’s all about sex. He needs to realize there is more to life and that being an adult is about taking responsibility for your life. He needs to be focusing on his school work and building a future for himself and we need to set a better example. What must he think when he comes home from school and hears us in the bedroom?”
Paul kissed the side of her neck. “That his parents love each other.”
Daisy sighed. “That his parents can’t do a full day’s work because they are constantly humping like rabbits on heat. We need to be more responsible, and being an adult means managing your urges, not being driven by them.”
Paul stepped back and she turned to face him. He scrubbed at his still damp hair with his hand. “Christ, you're serious.”
Daisy nodded. “I am.”
“For how long? Not until he's all grown up and married. That could be years.”
Daisy shrugged. She hadn't been serious when she made the offer to Sherman, but now that she could see the logic, it was the right thing to do. But how long for? Kids didn't leave home until they were in their thirties. She did the sums in her head and knew they had no chance of being together and remaining celibate for fifteen years—they'd be lucky to last fifteen hours.
Paul smiled. “How about a compromise?”
“What sort of compromise?”
“We can only have sex when Sherman can't find out about it. It could be fun, sneaking around.”
Daisy sighed. “What, like horny teenagers?”
“What if I refuse to accept your deal with Sherman?”
“Paul, if I'm not having sex, you're not having sex, unless it's with another woman. And if I find out you've been playing around, you'll find yourself missing the necessary equipment to have sex.”
Paul wrapped himself around her and shuddered. “God, you're so sexy when you're jealous.”
Sherman sauntered into the room and rolled his eyes.
Daisy shoved Paul away from her. “We were not having sex.”
“I do know what sex looks like, Mam.”
“You do? How?” She held up her hand. “No. I don't want to know. But this.” She pointed to Paul and then back at herself. “This definitely wasn't it. This house is a sex free zone.”
Paul quirked an eyebrow. “Just the house.”
Daisy grabbed her bag as the front door bell chimed. “You are such a boy, Paul.”
Paul glanced at Sherman and they both grinned. The dog beat the floor with its tail and gave her what appeared to be a salacious smile. God save her from stupid men.
Chapter Eight
Daisy climbed into Solomon's SUV, dumped her bag on the floor, and fastened her seatbelt.
He flashed a smile at her. “Good morning, Princess.”
She rolled her eyes. There was nothing good about the morning. How had she managed to talk herself into not having sex for the foreseeable future? If she backed down now, Sherman would think it was okay to have sex, and if she and Paul were sneaking around behind his back then he'd think it was okay to lie about it. If only Paul had spoken to Sherman like he was supposed to she would never have been so reckless. Solomon was still staring at her, apparently waiting for a response to his cheery greeting. She wasn't cheery, and nothing was going to make her cheery. “Men!”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
Solomon slid the car into gear and pulled away from the curb.
Daisy tugged the papers out of her handbag and settled down to read her sparse notes. No matter what else was going on in her life, she still had her very own case to work on. If she succeeded then she would finally prove to Paul that heir hunting was the right career for her. She didn't need a lot of money, just enough to help out with the bills and to cover her costs. Today she needed to make a breakthrough. And the best idea she'd come up with was to talk to his neighbors. Her search of the Internet had revealed nothing for a Tomas Jenks who lived in Dorset. There was a lot of information about dozens of Tomas Jenks the length and breadth of the UK, and even in Ireland, but she doubted if any of them were her Tomas Jenks. Liam said the ma
n had traces of an accent. Maybe someone he talked to on a regular basis knew where that accent was from. He could be from somewhere overseas.
The car slowed and Daisy looked up. “Where are we going?”
“I thought it would be fun to start our day together with a coffee.”
“The day already started and it wasn't fun. Added to that, we aren't spending the day together. As soon as you drop me off at my car, you can get back to whatever you were up to before you decided to hijack my life.”
“I didn't hijack anything.”
“No, you just wanted to make sure you weren't about to lose your favorite chew toy.”
“I don't chew on my lady friends.”
“Maybe that's why Belinda dumped you.”
Solomon frowned. “What? Did you talk to her? Is she into some kink she didn't tell me about?”
Daisy couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.
Solomon gave her a glacial glare. “You're loving this, aren't you?”
“A girl has to get her kicks where she can.”
“I prefer you don't use my sex life as a source of entertainment.”
“I thought you weren't having a sex life, or do you have a fill-in for Belinda?”
“I have no such thing and I refuse to discuss my sex life with you.”
“So, nothing to discuss then. I get the picture.” Daisy sighed. “It's sad to contemplate a long life without ever getting laid, isn't it?”
“I'm not planning on becoming a priest, so I doubt I'll be going without forever.”
“Lucky you.” Daisy shoved the door open. “Are we getting coffee or what?”
Solomon tugged his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a twenty- pound note. “I’ve a quick call to make and then I'll be right behind you. Make mine black and have whatever you want for yourself.”
Daisy took the money. If he wanted to spend his cash, who was she to stop him? Besides, her budget didn't run to full fat mocha with cream and an extra shot of chocolate.
*
Solomon tugged his phone from his pocket and made a big show of calling someone. Daisy shrugged and slammed her door before heading inside. He never actually hit the call button but held the phone to his ear to give the impression he was in the midst of a conversation. Daisy had left the folder with the information from Liam and her notes on the front passenger seat. He reached over and lifted the folder onto his lap.
She'd found out less than he had. All of the Tomas Jenks listed on her page lived everywhere but here. Thanks to his army connections, he had the heads up that their man was a regular at his local branch of the British Legion. If he attended the Legion, he could be a retired serviceman, although so far Solomon had come up blank finding out anything more. Now that he knew Daisy was clueless about that aspect of Mr. Jenks' life, he needed to find a way to give her the information without it looking like he was sticking his nose in.
He checked his watch. It was a little after eight thirty. Maybe it wasn't too early to phone. He hit the call button and smiled when a soft feminine voice answered.
*
Daisy sipped at her drink and stared into space. The table next to her was full of yummy mummies with toddlers in all shapes and sizes. She bet they all had fabulous sex lives. Toddlers were too naive to know what mummy and daddy were doing in the bedroom. God help them when their children became teenagers and wanted to experience the delights of the opposite sex. She should call Paul and apologize. Not that she'd been in the wrong. In fact he should be the one doing the groveling, although he would think groveling would lead to sex. They really needed to do something about Sherman. She'd over-reacted to the whole situation. Although she would never admit that to either of them. For now she was going to stop thinking about the whole sorry mess and work on her case.
She rifled through her favorite knock-off Coach bag and let out a loud sigh. She'd left her folder and notes in the car. There was nothing in them that she needed. None of the men she had on her list were her man, she knew it. They all appeared alive and well, other than a toddler from Yorkshire who died in the fifties, leaving a grieving Catholic family who posted a memorial to him in the paper every year, and a thirty–year-old who had died as a result of a nasty skiing accident in the Swiss Alps a month ago.
A cold wind whipped around her legs when the door swung open. Solomon strode across the room and slid into the chair on the other side of the table. She shoved his coffee at him and shuddered when he took a huge gulp. She'd ordered him a large takeaway cup, black and no sugar.
“So, you made your call then?”
He nodded. “I did.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Could be, Princess.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He grinned. “Because I know how much secrets drive you nuts.”
“Talking about secrets, have you done anything to find out who your real dad is?”
Solomon’s smiled disappeared. “I've not.”
“Why not?”
“I've no need to know who he is.”
“What if I looked for him?”
“What if you didn't? Don't you have a dead man to find?”
“I know where the dead man is. He was sprinkled on the lawn at the memorial garden.”
“And you're looking for his heirs?”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “I'm an heir hunter. There's a clue in the name.”
“So, what's the plan for today then?”
Daisy swallowed the last of her coffee and got to her feet. “The plan is to collect my car and then for you to leave me alone.”
Solomon made no move. Instead he slid down in the chair, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Why the need to succeed all of a sudden?”
Daisy frowned. “What does that mean? I've always wanted to succeed. Come on, let's go.”
“All evidence to the contrary and where's the fire? Your car isn't going anywhere.” Solomon sipped his coffee.
If there weren't small children present, she'd tell him to fuck off. Instead she tossed her hair over her shoulder and stepped close enough to jab a finger into his chest. Not that he would feel any pain. The man had pecs of steel. “I've solved cases before, but this time I intend to get paid. Don't think I've forgotten that you never gave me my share from the insurance job and that you kept the retainer I got when I was hired to find Johnny,”
Solomon grabbed her hand and smiled, apparently amused that he was getting to her. “So, if you had some money, you'd be in less of a rush to prove yourself?”
“No. Yes. No.” Daisy tried to pull her hand free. Solomon kissed her knuckles and let her go. She resisted the urge to wipe his drool off on the front of his shirt. No matter how annoying he was, she needed him to drive her to collect her car, and he had given her details on to Liam. Who knew if he would pass any of his other contacts on to her? “I need to make a living at this, but I also need to start building a client base. Liam is a chance to get some steady work.”
“I can't give you anything for the dog case. It all disappeared on costs. Maybe in future you'll be less inclined to pay off witnesses before you actually earn some cash.”
So he was back to complaining about her rewarding the one person who had given her a decent lead. It wasn't like Daisy's actions had sent him to the poor house.
“How come you can afford an Aston Martin and designer clothes?” Daisy frowned. The man never seemed to be working on anything major and yet he lived a lifestyle she could only dream about. “What am I doing wrong?”
Solomon smiled. “I never paid for them with my PI earnings.”
“So how did you pay for them?”
“Have we not had this conversation before?”
Daisy nodded. “Many times. And you always refuse to tell me.”
“So why ask?”
“In case you change your mind. If you don't, I have a theory.”
“What's that?”
“You
hire your body out in your spare time.”
He chuckled. “You could be on to something.”
“Are you admitting you get paid for sex?”
Solomon's chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh. The sound of the Death March sounded from Daisy's bag. She'd fucking well kill Sherman when she got home. How many times did she have to tell him to stop changing her ringtone?
She rifled around in her bag for a couple of minutes before locating and pulling out the phone. All eyes in the cafe were now fixed on her. She grimaced and accepted the call.
“Daisy Dunlop.”
“Daisy, this is Liam Sparks. Melanie was just doing the filing and she came across something that might be of interest to you.”
Daisy's heart sped up. Could this be the big clue that would set her on the path to solving the case in record time? “Really? What is it?”
“Some of his bills that were sent to me because I'm managing his estate.”
“Bills for what?”
“If you can drop by the office today, you can see for yourself.”
“I'll be there as soon as I can.”
Daisy ended the call. She shoved her phone in her bag with one hand, and picked Solomon's half empty coffee with the other. He made a grab for it.
“What are you doing?”
“Want the coffee?”
“Princess!”
“Catch me and it's all yours.”
She bolted for the door. A chair scraped on the cafe floor and the sound of heavy footfalls made her squeal and run faster. Almost at the door, she turned her head to check how close Solomon was. Her body collided with something solid and Solomon's warm coffee upended down the front of her pristine white shirt. Daisy stumbled, the cup falling to the floor as the man she collided with stepped back and left her flailing her arms in an attempt to stop herself from face-planting in the middle of the cafe. A strong arm snaked around her middle and hauled her upright. Held fast against a very obviously male body, she got a whiff of sultry cologne before a warm breath tickled her ear. “I've got you, Princess, but I don't think anything can save my coffee.”
