Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries Boxed Set (3 Books)

by Jamie Lee Scott

The third message said, “You fucking bitch. Stay away from the game and its players. One of them will kill you.”

  My hands shook as I saved the messages for Nick to listen to. I’d call him in the morning and give him the information. I pushed the command button to call Charles now.

  My phone said, “Say a command.”

  I said, “Call Chuck.” He’d be pissed if he knew I had his name as Chuck on my phone.

  My phone said, “Did you say call Chuck?”

  I said, “Yes.”

  Phone said, “Calling.” I waited.

  “Miss me already?” Charles answered on the first ring.

  “I got another call.” My voice trembled.

  Charles got serious. “Look, I’m not remotely tired, and I have no one to go home to, so I’m going to stick around the office for a while. I’ll see what I can do to get you some answers. This is getting too serious. You need to file a complaint with the police, along with the B&E.”

  “They already know the scoop. Besides, this creep can’t kill me through the phone.” I tried to sound braver than I was.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I find anything out.”

  I pressed, “No matter what time it is.”

  Charles promised. I hung up and sat in the car another minute or so. I changed my phone back to vibrate/ring from the silent mode. I wasn’t anxious to go back into my house, so I scrolled through the ring tones and changed my incoming call to the words from Big and Rich’s “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.” Silly, but I needed something silly at the moment. I looked at my house, where I’d been violated and threatened. The good thing was that there were cops in a car across the street. At least I thought there were. Nick assured me I wouldn’t be alone, but I sure felt alone, and vulnerable.

  I forced myself to go into the house. Before I stepped into the kitchen, I turned on the light by reaching in the door and flipping the switch. I pushed open the door and peeked inside. Nothing moved and I didn’t see anything treacherous on the counter or table. I stepped inside. Barely in, I locked my new lock, and the deadbolt. Now I felt like I was in prison. Alone in my cell, but afraid, just the same.

  I stood in the kitchen, assessing the room. Zeke had been nice enough to send a cleaning crew to wipe up the fingerprint powder residue. I appreciated not seeing the reminder of the morning’s events. Just the same, they were fresh in my mind. I wasn’t going to be getting to sleep anytime soon, so I put my briefcase and laptop on the table and set up to go over some files.

  Before settling in for the work ahead, I made a pot of coffee. I poured a large shot of Bailey’s Irish Cream in the bottom of my coffee cup, then added coffee. I stirred until the drink was creamy brown and took a savory sip. That action alone settled my nerves.

  Well, I thought it did. But when the knock came at the front door, I jumped and sloshed the sweet, hot liquid all over my hand and down my arm.

  “Shit.” I grabbed a wet sponge from the kitchen sink and wiped my hand, arm and sleeve. I didn’t hurry to the door, figuring it was one of the officers letting me know they were on the job. Nice, but not necessary.

  I went to the front door, standing off to the side, and pulled the curtain away from the window. It wasn’t one of the officers. It wasn’t anyone I’d ever expect to see at my door in the middle of the night. It was Nick.

  I opened the door wide and blocked the entrance. “What are you doing here?” I was still miffed about him not letting me in on the information from running the vehicle plate.

  “May I come in?” Business-like and gruff.

  I opened the door wider. “Sure.”

  “I got the address. Eugene lives in Santa Cruz.”

  “Since all of this is taking place in other cities, do we need to have permission from the other jurisdictions to talk to these people?”

  Nick said, “Not just to talk to them. If there are any arrests, we’ll have to work with the local authorities. But that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “So we’re going back to Santa Cruz to talk to Eugene?”

  “I am.” Nick walked into the living room and settled on my leather couch. “This is nice.”

  For what it cost, it better be. I had splurged on my furniture. This was a dark brown leather sofa. The Italian leather was buttery soft, which was why I bought it. And it was easy to keep clean. Lola liked to climb up on the furniture and snuggle, and she wasn’t particularly careful about wiping her paws before jumping onto the couch. Leather cleaned up nicely and didn’t hold onto the hair.

  “Make yourself at home.” I oozed sarcasm.

  “Thanks. What’s in the mug?”

  “Bailey’s and coffee. Want some?” I pushed my mug toward him.

  “No thanks, but coffee sounds good.” He crossed his legs.

  “Great. There’s some in the pot. The mugs are in the cabinet on the left of the sink.” I sat in the club chair across from the couch. It was leather too, but red instead of brown.

  “Some hostess.” Nick stood.

  “I didn’t invite you over.” But I stood just the same. “Sit, I’ll get it.”

  By the time I returned to the living room, Nick had several reports and photos spread across my coffee table. I moved a coaster into place and put his coffee down. I went around the other side to sit across from him.

  “No. Come over here and sit. I want to go over these with you.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Nick was sitting in my living room about to go over Esme’s murder book. I came back around the table and sat next to Nick, making sure there was a good distance between us.

  He pointed to the photos. “These are from the murder scene. Do you see anything that stands out?”

  I looked. These photos were in color, and graphic. The sword lay across the dining room table with a swath of blood across the middle. The rest of the room looked much as it had when I’d been in it early on Monday. I looked at a close-up shot of Esme’s body. Her hands had been cupped in her lap, catching the blood running from her neck. But now I saw something else. The charms. Esme had a necklace of charms laced in her fingers. From the photo it looked as if the chain had been deliberately woven through her fingers.

  “I thought we found Esme’s charms in her bedroom.” I saw them. And this necklace was identical: the ankh, the shen, and the vial of blood.

  “There’s more than one. You know most, if not all, of the players have these necklaces.”

  “I thought so. But whose blood would be in the vials? Is it human, or animal?”

  Nick pulled a sheet of paper from the file. “The blood from both the vial in Esme’s fingers and the one in her room had human blood. And we know the blood is from two different people. What we don’t know is who.”

  This bit of evidence was new to me. “When will you know?”

  “DNA takes time. And we have to have samples to compare it with. So far I have Lauren’s, Esme’s, Sebastian’s, and Henry’s. I hope to get a sample from Eugene tomorrow.”

  As a P.I., I got to do a lot of snooping, but I didn’t usually have to piece together a puzzle. This was a complicated puzzle, with more and more pieces showing up as the days went on. I didn’t know how someone could be a homicide detective without going crazy.

  I sat back from the coffee table. “Do you like your job?”

  Nick looked confused. “Why?”

  “It just seems like a lot of pieces that don’t fit. I’d think it was frustrating.”

  “No more frustrating than other parts of my life.”

  I wondered what he meant by that remark, but I was afraid to ask a question that was none of my business. I didn’t have to.

  “Look Mimi, it’s been years since we’ve seen each other. We may look like the same people. A little older, but the same. You know?”

  I did know.

  Nick continued, “But we are very different. We’re shaped by the events that occur around us. Your events were different from mine. But we can relate because we have a shared past. And we both have
skeletons. Yours happen to be literal.”

  I knew he was talking about Dominic. “Actually, there are no skeletons. Debris from the accident was scattered everywhere. The only thing found was a shoe he’d had packed in his suitcase. Not even a piece of the suitcase was found.”

  I went on to tell him how I’d met Dominic in the produce industry. He’d worked for his family in a brokerage. Brokers were the middle man between the vegetable shippers and the grocery stores. Wining, dining, and travel were a huge part of his job.

  “So you haven’t really had closure.” Nick had dismissed the paperwork and focused on me.

  “Yes and no. It’s hard to explain. Before he died, Dominic gave me Lola, and without her, I don’t know if I’d still be alive. I feel a little bit of Dominic when I’m with Lola. I took Dominic’s death very hard.”

  Nick nodded.

  I wanted to change the subject. “So what about you? How did you end up back in Salinas?”

  “You know about the drugs and alcohol. But what you don’t know is that it got worse after I was removed from the roster.” Nick looked down between his feet.

  “Worse?”

  “Oh, yeah. I was lucky enough that I didn’t receive any felony conviction for my drunk driving charges. And I was able to get on the police force in San Francisco. Being a former NFL player gave me a lot of clout. Clout I didn’t deserve. But all the guys wanted to be my partner, and they wanted to talk about the good old days. What they didn’t understand was that I wanted to leave those days behind me and get on with my life.”

  I agreed. “I know the feeling.”

  Nick smiled. “You’d think being a cop, and seeing what drugs and alcohol did to people, I’d clean my act up. I didn’t. You’ll never believe this.”

  “What?” I was curious to know about his life since college.

  “I had to sell one of my Super Bowl rings to pay off a drug debt.”

  “Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. That was a whopper of a confession. This was beginning to feel like our college days, when Nick would pour out his heart to me, and then we’d end up in bed.

  “That was my rock bottom. I’ve been clean and sober for seven years.”

  And here I’d offered him a Baileys and coffee. What an idiot. I picked up my coffee mug and started toward the kitchen.

  Nick stood to stop me. He grabbed my wrist. “No, you’re okay. I’m okay with it. Drink your coffee. I’m the one with the addiction, not you.”

  He stood so close I could smell the coffee on his breath. I looked in his eyes and saw nineteen-year-old Nick. I saw the Nick who stole my heart. Suddenly my heart ached.

  His hand moved from my wrist to my coffee cup. He took the cup and put in on the table. Then he turned back to me. He put his hands on either side of my face and pulled me close. He said, “I’ve missed you.”

  And he kissed me.

  I melted like a chocolate bar on the dashboard in summer. Every cell in my body gravitated toward Nick. My mind tried desperately to get a grip and pull my body away. But the feel and taste of Nick’s soft lips enveloped my senses. I kissed him back. I pressed hard against him, and my tongue followed his in the dance of emotions. I wanted this, and then I didn’t want it. I needed this, but I didn’t. At the very moment I didn’t care what I did or didn’t need or want, I was kissing Nick. I was kissing the man who’d broken my heart, and I wanted more.

  Nick pulled back. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you Monday night. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve been trying to concentrate on this case to keep from thinking about you.”

  My saner side took over before I could confess anything I’d later regret, and I kept silent. I looked at him, willing him to kiss me again.

  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like if I saw you again. And I knew, when I transferred to Salinas, I’d see you sometime. I just didn’t know it would be so soon.”

  I overcame my sanity. “Oh, Nick. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed talking and laughing. I missed our friendship.”

  “Me too.” Then his mouth opened and covered mine.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. I wanted his body touching mine. As I pushed my breasts into his chest, I felt his muscles tense. From the eagerness of his kissing, the tensing was a good thing. I tried not to think. Thinking would only make me need to stop this madness. It had been so long since I’d been with a man, or wanted to be with a man. Seeing Nick, and having Sebastian flirt with me had awakened a need I’d forgotten.

  I told myself, even if it was only for one night, I wanted it. I wanted to feel Nick’s skin on mine. I wanted to feel the sweat of hot sex, and I wanted that sex to be with Nick.

  I brought my hands down to unbutton his shirt. I didn’t care if the cops outside could see us. I tore myself away from Nick’s kisses and worked my lips down his neck to his shoulders, as I tugged his shirt down. My mouth followed the ever lowering shirt until I found his nipple and gently sucked it into my mouth. He groaned.

  “I want this, Mimi. I really want you.”

  And I wanted him too. I showed him how much by putting his hands on my top and helping him help me out of it. I backed away from him long enough to let him lift my shirt over my head. When the shirt hit the ground I heard a noise.

  “When I saddle up my horse…” It was my cell phone. I could feel it vibrating at my hip. And it wasn’t the only thing I could feel on there. I now knew just how bad Nick wanted me.

  He kissed me through his words. “Do you need to get that?”

  I ignored him, and the phone, helping him unhook my bra.

  My phone rang again. It was late, and it was probably a private number. I fumbled with the buttons to ignore the call. Big & Rich stopped singing.

  I don’t know how long it took, or how I got there, but we were on the couch, Nick on top of me. His hard body pressed up against me. I had what I’d longed for, his flesh against mine. His skin felt like silk. As he moved on top of me, I felt as if we’d moved past whatever had torn us apart. Part of me wanted the kissing to go on forever, and part of me wanted more, and now.

  Bang, bang, bang. A rapid succession of thumps on the door.

  “Mimi, are you okay?”

  Oh shit, it was Charles.

  I struggled to get out from under Nick. Where was my bra, my shirt? By way of small wonders, we both still had our pants on.

  “Hold on, Charles, I’m coming.”

  I picked up my phone and looked at the time. Wow, we’d been necking for twenty minutes. How did I last that long?

  Nick sat up. “Not now, you aren’t.”

  I turned to Nick. “Shut up.” I threw his shirt at him. “Get dressed.”

  “Why? It’s just Charles.” Nick moved leisurely.

  “Because it’s Charles, you nitwit. He has a big mouth.” I tossed my bra behind the couch and pulled on my shirt.

  “Nitwit?” Nick laughed as he pushed his arm through a sleeve.

  I looked at him and rolled my eyes. I put my fingers in my hair and fluffed it. Then I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

  I opened the door. “What’s up?”

  “What the hell’s the matter with you? I called and no one answered. I was scared to death something happened. And here you are with Nick.” He clipped the last word, then repeated, “And here you are with Nick.”

  “Come on in. Want some coffee?” I tried to cover my embarrassment.

  Charles, never one to leave when he should, said, “Sure.”

  “We were going over the murder book,” Nick said.

  Charles sat across from him. “I may have something more for your little murder book. That’s why I called.”

  I came back with a Bailey’s and coffee for Charles.

  He sipped. “This is good. But not as good as what I have.”

  I sat next to Nick on the couch, careful not to touch. “What?”

  Charles pulled out a stack of photos. He spread them across the table, ove
r Nick’s papers. “These will make more sense after what we saw tonight.”

  Laying on the table were three photos of Henry and Eugene. The first photo showed the back of them walking away. The significance of the photo was in their relative positions. They were holding hands. The second and third photos pretty much confirmed what we had expected was going on in the back of Eugene’s Volvo.

  “Where did you get these?” Nick said, eyes wide.

  At that moment, I wished I was telepathic. I stared hard at Charles, willing him not to say anything. I hadn’t told Nick that Sebastian gave me Esme’s cell phone. If I’d ever had a wish come true, I needed it now.

  “Esme’s cell phone,” Charles said.

  If wishes were horses… looked like I’d be looking for a different cowboy to ride.

  Nick looked at me. I looked him in the eye and saw a completely different man than the one sprawled on top of me only minutes ago. Nick’s blue-gray eyes were dancing with fury.

  He looked back to Charles. “How did you get Esme’s phone?”

  Completely innocent, Charles said, “Mimi gave it to me.”

  I scooted to the far edge of the couch, wishing it was longer. Nick leveled his gaze at me. I smiled, lips closed, brows high.

  “Explain.” Nick spat the words.

  “Sebastian gave it to me. He said he found it in his car when he got back from his business trip. He said it was Esme’s, but it was dead, so he had no way of checking it. He didn’t have the same kind of charger hers had. Besides, he thought it was best to give it to the police. He gave it to me, and I decided to have Charles charge up the battery before I gave it to you.” I was talking as fast as a native New Yorker.

  Nick stood. “Are you brain dead?”

  Stunned, I said, “Excuse me?”

  “Why else would you hold onto a piece of key evidence that didn’t belong to you in the first place? What possessed you to think you had any right to accept that phone from Sebastian?”

  He was right. I had no defense. But he’d just called me brain dead. I stared at him, silent.

  “And why didn’t Sebastian think to tell me he’d given it to you?”

  I thought before speaking. Sebastian had done it again. This was another way to cast a shadow of doubt. I had walked right into his scheme. First, his confession of being in the house the night of the murder, and then he gave me the phone. I was an idiot.