The Daisy Dunlop Mystery Box Set: Lost Cause, Lost & Found, Lost Property

by JL Simpson

  “Are you not concerned that I might be in too much pain?”

  She looked down at his foot. If it was bleeding, the sticking plaster was still doing its job. She suspected he was being a big baby. Maybe he wanted some sympathy. “I could rub it better.”

  “Will you not kiss it better?”

  “Kiss your foot?”

  “It wasn't my foot you hurt.”

  Daisy stared at him. “It wasn't?”

  Solomon popped open the button at the top of his pants. “No. You kneed me in the balls.”

  Daisy glared at him as she crossed the room and lifted her handbag. “I don't know why I even bother trying to be nice to you. I'm going to get coffee.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Daisy gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She'd taken the inspiration for her outfit from some of the music videos Sherman watched on TV. She figured if she dressed like the young women who would usually frequent the place she would have no trouble getting in. Her wet-look silver top flashed some cleavage, while covering the love handles Daisy was sure she was developing. She needed to lay off the cake, but it was hard to resist the calming qualities of caffeine and chocolate when you spent all day working with an Irish git.

  Daisy turned sideways to look at herself in the mirror. She tugged at her top. If she had a strapless bra, she'd be wearing it, but she didn't. Every other bra she owned hadn't worked with the spaghetti straps, so she was letting her girls go free. Provided the nightclub was warm, and she didn't jig too much, she figured she'd get away with it. Her red leather skirt hugged her hips and barely covered her panties. The sky-high red heels made her legs appear longer, and she hoped slimmer. After one last look in the mirror to check she didn't have lipstick on her teeth, she grabbed Paul's sports hold-all, and her red and black clutch purse off the end of the bed, and then clumped her way downstairs.

  Paul glanced up from the midweek soccer match on TV as she slumped onto the couch next to him. He smiled and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You look gorgeous.”

  She wiggled closer, brushing her chest against his arm. “Are you sure you don't want to come with me?”

  “To a nightclub? I think I'll pass.”

  “It could be fun. I could show you my moves.”

  He frowned and then turned his attention back to the telly. “I've got an early shift tomorrow.”

  Paul had been distant and evasive all evening. Rather than the passionate clinch they usually shared when they both arrived home from work, she'd gotten a peck on the cheek. When Sherman had announced he was going to his mate Ben's to do his homework, Paul had chosen to take Johnny for a walk. He hadn't even offered to soap her back in the shower, like he usually would. And he didn't even lift an eyebrow when she said she was going out clubbing with Solomon. True, it was for work, but Paul could at least look a little bit jealous. “So, you'd rather I practice my moves on Solomon?”

  “Get in there, you beauty.” Paul leaned closer to the TV as the ball skipped past the goalkeeper and into the back of the net. “Yes!” He pumped the air with his fist.

  “Paul?”

  He glanced at her. “Sorry, did you say something?”

  “No nothing. I'm going to wait out the front for Solomon.”

  “Night then.”

  Johnny sprawled across the other side of the sofa and flopped his head into Paul's lap. Paul patted the poodle as he shifted his focus back to the soccer game. Daisy let out a loud sigh and got to her feet. Maybe he'd lost interest in her since she'd brought in the sex ban. Maybe he'd decided he didn't mind a celibate life, or maybe he'd found someone else to scratch his itch. Daisy shook her head. Paul would never cheat on her. She wanted him to stop hassling her for sex in front of Sherman, so whatever was going on was her own fault. Perhaps she should toss out the stupid rule and go all out to seduce Paul when she got home later.

  A cool blast of air greeted her as she stepped outside. The door closed behind her. Huddled under the porch, she dropped the hold-all onto the front step and rubbed her upper arms. She should have worn a jacket but nothing she owned went with the outfit. Besides she didn't want the hassle of carting the thing about once they arrived. She pulled her phone from her purse and swiped Solomon's number. The call went direct to voice mail. Either he'd turned it off or he was talking to someone else. She would just have to hope he wasn't too far away.

  * * * * *

  Solomon negotiated the sharp left turn with one hand on the wheel. If the cops saw him driving with his phone to his ear, he’d be in trouble but sometimes you couldn’t avoid breaking the law. He could hear the TV in the background.

  “Paul? Is there a problem with Daisy?”

  “Abso-fuking-lutely.”

  “What?” She’d been fine when he dropped her home at six, still angry at him for suggesting she kiss him better, but fine.

  “She’s driving me nuts.”

  “Not injured, dying, on her way to hospital?”

  “No.”

  “Then why am I risking my driving license talking to you?”

  “Because you told me to lay off asking for sex.”

  “Is it not working?”

  “If you mean has she begged me to take her to bed, then no. If you’re asking if I have the worst case of blue balls known to man, then yes.”

  Solomon chuckled. “It’s been a couple of days. Get a grip of yourself, man. I’m telling you, by the end of the weekend she’ll be putty in your hands.”

  “You haven’t seen the way she’s dressed.”

  Solomon pressed his foot down on the accelerator. “Why, what’s she wearing?”

  “Not much. I could go outside and beg her for a quickie before you show up.”

  “You could not.”

  “Why not? I’ve decided your advice sucks.”

  “My advice is foolproof, and you can’t beg your wife for sex because I’m about to pull up outside your house.”

  “Bugger. How about you take a detour around the block?”

  “How about you take a cold shower? We’ve an appointment that we can’t miss.”

  “Fine. Can I beg her when she gets home? When will she be home?”

  “Have you not spoken to her?”

  “I can’t. My mouth might run away with me.”

  Solomon laughed. “You’re being an eejit.”

  “How about you get her drunk? A few slow dances and she’ll be begging me for it when she gets in.”

  Solomon pulled to a stop outside Daisy’s house. She lifted a hold-all and walked down the front drive. “How about you go back to whatever it was you were doing before you called and let me get to work.”

  “Okay. Just remember, lots of drinking and dancing.”

  “I’ll give you some dancing, you fecking moron.”

  “If it’s dirty dancing, I’m so horny I might just take it.”

  Daisy opened the car door open and slid inside.

  Solomon shifted his focus to Daisy. It was cold outside and she appeared to be going without underwear. Victoria’s Secret would be weeping but he had no complaints. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

  Solomon turned his attention back to the phone. “I’m not doing anything dirty with you.” He ended the call and slid the phone into his jacket pocket.

  Daisy frowned. “Who aren’t you doing something dirty with?”

  “No one.”

  “Do you often talk to no one about sex?”

  “I was talking about not having sex, Princess.”

  Daisy sighed.

  “Problem, darlin’?”

  *

  Solomon looked so sincere, but Daisy had a rule: she didn't discuss the details of her sex life with him, ever. Not that she'd been able to discuss it with anyone else either. Her best friend Cherry was holidaying in Turkey, and Belinda hadn't answered the phone when she tried to call her earlier.

  “I think I've made a terrible mistake.”

  Solomon eased the car away from the curb. “What mis
take?”

  She shrugged. “It doesn't matter.”

  “If you think going without underwear was a mistake, then I'd have to disagree.”

  “Solomon!” Trust him to go there. And she'd contemplated having a deep and meaningful conversation with him about her problem with Paul. Okay, she'd contemplated contemplating having a deep and meaningful conversation. Solomon's salacious grin had Daisy slouching and hunching her shoulders to try and hide her boobs. “I'm wearing underwear.”

  “There's no sin in going commando.”

  “I'm wearing underwear.”

  Solomon raised an eyebrow. “I'm not believing you. Why don't you show me?”

  There he was, the insufferable git she knew and loved. She'd been right. Talking to him about her life would be a waste of time. The man was a Neanderthal. “Just for tonight, why don't you try thinking with your big head?”

  Solomon's grin got wider.

  Daisy growled in frustration. “Fine. Whatever. I didn't wear a bra.”

  “Panties?”

  “None of your damn business. And stop acting like a teenage boy.” Teenage boys were horny twenty-four seven. A teenage boy had started this whole stupid no-sex business. Daisy sighed. She missed sex, but she missed the close relationship with Paul even more.

  Solomon’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Speaking of teenage boys, how's Sherman?”

  “Why?”

  “Can a godfather not ask after his godson?”

  “Has he been kissing girls again?”

  “I've no idea. I've not seen him since I was last at your house.”

  “Do you think he's having sex?”

  “I've not turned my mind to it. I know you don't want to hear it, but one day your little boy will be a man, and what he chooses to do in or out of the bedroom will be out of your control. Do you not think you should start developing a more mature relationship with him?”

  “Is that your idea of parenting advice? If this was Molly we were talking about, I bet you'd be much more circumspect.”

  Solomon frowned. “If it were Molly, we'd be talking about how to stop her dog peeing in my shoes, or how she'll cope with her first day at school.”

  Daisy leaned back in her seat. “She won't be four forever. What about when she's Sherman's age and some lad comes sniffing around? What about if you come home to find a boy in her room with no interest in homework and every interest in a practical demonstration of human procreation?”

  Solomon's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. “He'd not be procreating again.”

  “So you'd stop Molly seeing him?”

  “I'd rip his balls off.”

  Daisy sighed. “So mature. I know you think Sherman is just doing what boys do, but he's planning to do it with some man's daughter.”

  “And you're worried the man will rip his balls off?”

  “This isn't about Sherman getting hurt by some crazy father.”

  Solomon reached over and patted her knee. “I know. I know.”

  Daisy lifted his hand and placed it on the gearshift. “What do you know?”

  “That you're a good ma to that lad.”

  “How old were you when you first had sex?”

  Solomon glanced at her. “Are you really wanting to have this conversation?”

  She shrugged. Her knowledge of the reproductive urgings of young boys was nonexistent. Paul had been no virgin when they met, but Daisy had been. She'd never asked Paul about his experiences because she didn't want to know. The fact that Solomon usually had an overactive sex life was hardly a secret. “As long as I don't have to tell you about my sex life.”

  He took a left at a roundabout and slowed to let some pedestrians cross before shifting up a gear and picking up speed. Just when she thought he wasn't going to answer, he cleared his throat.

  “I was a bit younger than Sherman.”

  “Younger?” Daisy stared at him in disbelief.

  “Do you want me to tell you or not?”

  “Sorry. Carry on.”

  “I was a bit younger than Sherman. The girl was a few years older and wiser than me. It was over almost as soon as it began but then that's what happens when you get over-eager. Thankfully I've a little more patience now.”

  Daisy screwed up her face. “Ew. Too much information.”

  “You asked.”

  She shifted in her seat and stared at him. “Did your mam go mad?”

  “My ma never knew.”

  “What about the girl's parents?”

  “I've no idea. I never met them. I used to hang out with a group of kids at the local youth club. The girl was one of the gang. One day she offered to show me the way of things. I agreed. We met in the field behind the Catholic Church one summer evening. She stripped naked and all the pictures in magazines I'd seen before hadn't prepared me for the real thing. She pushed me onto my back, unzipped my pants and did the business. Like I said, it was over before it began.”

  “What if she'd got pregnant?”

  “I never thought about it, but then I didn't have parents like you and Paul. I would never talk about sex with my ma.”

  “So you had no one to talk to?”

  “I confessed to the local priest. He absolved me of my sins. A week later, I got a pamphlet on safe sex and a packet of condoms through the mail.”

  “Not ideal, but at least you weren't in danger of being a teenage father.”

  “Even without the condoms, I wasn't in danger of being a father until I was much older.”

  “How come?”

  Solomon chuckled. “As far as I remember from my biology lessons at school, your fist can't get pregnant, not that I didn't give it a good try, and not that I won't try again later tonight after this conversation.”

  Daisy punched him in the thigh. “You're disgusting.”

  He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze as he pulled into a parking spot a couple of hundred meters from Temptations.

  “So how about your first time, Princess?”

  “I told you I'm not talking to you about my sex life.”

  “Is this not a chance for us to bond?”

  “No.”

  “So you'll not be wanting to eat ice-cream and braid each other’s hair later?”

  Daisy sighed. “I knew asking you was a mistake.”

  Solomon ran a finger down the side of Daisy's face. “Eventually you'll tell me why you're interested in how or why I have sex.”

  Daisy grabbed his hand and moved it back to the steering wheel. “I'm not interested in how, why, who or where. I was interested in the deviant workings of teenage boys’ minds.”

  Solomon's smile was slow and sultry. “Sure you were, Princess.”

  Daisy scrambled from the car and adjusted her skirt to make sure it was covering her bum. The last thing she needed to do was flash Solomon. The man was unbelievable. She wanted some advice and he'd turned it into a chance to flirt. He used to hate flirting. She frowned. He used to hate that she flirted at all. Something weird was definitely going on.

  Solomon joined her on the pavement, all evidence of his earlier foot injury strangely absent. Either he had been over-acting, or he was on some pretty powerful pain killers

  “I know Paul's spoken to Sherman, but if you think it'll help, I'm happy to talk to him man to man. I could take him out to dinner.”

  “And say what?”

  “And say that he might be all fired up now, but it really is better to wait until you find someone special enough to give yourself to for the first time.”

  Daisy frowned. “Do you have regrets?”

  Solomon grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the nightclub. “Enough talk about me. You've a case to solve.”

  Daisy fell in step beside him. Interesting. She'd seen lots of sides to Solomon but she would never have guessed he regretted anything about his sex life. She also didn't expect him to talk to Sherman. Parents were lame but Sherman thought Solomon was the coolest man alive. As much as she
hated to admit it, advice from Solomon would be advice Sherman was likely to listen to.

  “Would you really talk to Sherman?”

  “I said I would.”

  Daisy gave his hand a squeeze and he winked at her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Daisy kept a tight hold of Solomon's hand as he led her deeper into the nightclub. A sea of young people ebbed and flowed around them. Daisy was painfully aware she was probably ten years too old for this crowd. Even though Solomon hadn't been included in the invitation, she was glad to have him with her.

  The queue of people out the front had jostled and jeered when she went straight to the front of the line. Her name had been at the door and the bouncer had agreed to let them both in, after some gentle persuasion from her, and a fifty pound note from Solomon. Inside the club the flash of lights interrupted the dark, giving a fleeting glimpse of entwined couples dancing in ways that would make Daisy's granny blush. Music filled the air and pulsed beneath her feet. Her ears would be ringing for weeks. The doorman had told her that Fletch was running late and had left instructions for her to meet him at the bar in half-an-hour. Not that she could see a bar over the crowd.

  Solomon appeared to know where he was going, but then he was tall enough to see over the heads of most people. He could be a regular visitor, but she guessed Solomon preferred somewhere a little quieter. It would be difficult to charm the ladies out of their underwear in a place where you couldn't hear yourself think.

  A few steps later, they arrived at a bar that ran along the back wall. Solomon waved at the bartender. Daisy had no idea what was said, money was exchanged and a large pink girlie drink with an umbrella and straw was placed in front of her. When Solomon’s pint arrived he took a deep pull of the dark brown liquid. Guinness, no doubt. The man was a walking cliché.

  He leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear. “Do you not like your drink?”

  She took a sip. Sweet, addictive and probably completely intoxicating. One of those would be more than enough. She had to keep a clear head for when she met Fletch. “Delicious.”

  Solomon smiled. “I thought you'd like it. Drink up.”