“Bart Foy has gone very, very quiet,” Bodhi announced at breakfast a few weeks later. “The Feds leaned on him about Stuart Lawson, but he covered his tracks very well.”
Sailor looked at him unhappily. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
Soleil spooned the last of her yogurt into her mouth. “How do you know all of this?”
“I have a contact at the Bureau.”
Soleil grinned. “Impressive.”
Bodhi grinned, but Sailor didn’t smile. “It’s when he goes quiet that I start to panic,” she lowered her voice so Tim, who was running around packing his backpack for school, wouldn’t hear. “Back in the commune, it meant someone had stepped out of line and that bad times were coming. Dark times.” She felt tearful, and Bodhi stroked her cheek.
“What is it?”
Sailor just shook her head. “Just…a hidden enemy, you know? It’s harder to stay ahead of them.”
“Ahead of who?” Tim had rejoined them without Sailor seeing, and for a second, she floundered for an answer.
“Emails,” Soleil rescued Sailor, then mussed Tim’s hair. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get going.”
Sailor looked at her gratefully, and Solly winked. “Listen, I have a meeting after I drop Tim off, so you two will have the place to yourselves for a while. To, um, work, you know?”
She winked at both of them, then laughed as she left the house with Tim. “Bye, gorgeous people.”
“Bye, nut job,” Bodhi called out after her and Sailor laughed, feeling her spirits lift.
When they were alone, Bodhi leaned over to kiss Sailor. “Sails, I’ve been thinking…it might be time for me to get back to work. Record some new stuff, do some press, and I’m thinking maybe we could kill two birds with one stone.”
“How’s that?”
“I think we need to go public with our relationship.”
Sailor gaped at him. “Why?”
“Because the more Bart Foy realizes that you are protected, that you are loved, the less likely he is to risk coming after you. He might think you’re anonymous enough that he could, and I hate these words coming out of my mouth, that he could kill you and no-one would think anything of a young biracial woman being murdered in this town. God knows how many people straight off the bus from everywhere go missing, especially young women. This could be where my fame, for want of a better word, could actually be of help. From what I can see, Bart Foy won’t risk being exposed as a murderer or a charlatan. I don’t mean this to sound egotistical, and of course, you are much, much more than just my lover, but being Bodhi Creed’s girlfriend automatically gives you an extra layer of public protection. No-one can touch us.”
Sailor chewed this over. “Conversely,” she said, “Bart could think I might expose him in a bigger arena and come after me.”
Bodhi’s smile faded, and he sighed. “God, Sails, if I could get my hands on him.”
She stroked his face. “I know, baby. And I think you might be right, at least, we could consider it, because I have an idea. Maybe if I did an interview with you and not mention names, but make it clear where I come from, what I’ve seen. Bart will know I’m ready and willing to talk about him. He might panic. He might make a mistake and then we’ve got him.”
Bodhi looked unhappy. “Using yourself as bait is not an answer.”
“We have to use what is available to us, Bodhi. Until the threat of Bart Foy is gone, then I don’t know how to really feel free. Be free. I don’t want a death threat to follow me around forever.”
Bodhi took her in his arms. “I know. I know.” He sighed, pressing his lips to her temple. “We’ll work it out. We’ll work something out.”
She tilted her head up for a kiss. “In the meantime, I’ve been thinking about Grady Mallory’s offer.”
Bodhi looked surprised. “You have? That’s great news.”
“I still don’t think I’m right to be an art tutor,” she said, sitting down on the couch with him. “But I know what I’m good at and that’s organization, scheduling, all the dull stuff.” She grinned at Bodhi. “I know, it’s a bore to you, but it gives me a sense of control. If the Foundation is opening a branch in Los Angeles, then they’ll need someone like that.”
Bodhi smiled at her enthusiasm. “I see you as much more than a paper pusher, Sailor.”
“Well, maybe I could handle the charitable part, arrange benefits, or marketing…something like that. I don’t have an awful lot of experience in anything, as you know,” she grinned at his wicked smile, “except some things, Mr. Creed, I think I’m becoming an expert.”
“I would agree with that.”
They were both laughing now. “See, I was having a serious conversation about a possible career, and you have to bring up sex.”
Bodhi laughed loudly. “You brought up sex, you little nympho.”
“Fair enough.” She snuggled into his arms. “So, what did you have in mind for today? Recording sessions?”
His fingers were trailing up and down her spine. “I was thinking of going into the recording studio, but not recording.”
“Oh?”
“Uh-huh. I was going to take my girlfriend in there and fuck her senseless on the mixing board.”
Sailor started giggling. “Oh, you were huh?”
“Oh yeah. Well, first I’d strip her slowly, then put my face in her sex and suck and taste her until she came…”
Sailor was getting very turned on by his dirty talk, and she looked up into his intense green eyes and he brushed his lips against hers. “Then,” he continued in a low, slow, sensual voice, “I would part her legs and put my cock inside her so hard that she would scream my name so loud that even the soundproofing couldn’t muffle her cries…”
Sailor moaned softly. “Put your hands on me, Bodhi Creed.”
Bodhi pulled her top down and took her nipple into his mouth, his fingers sliding into the waistband of her denim shorts, stroking her lower belly then massaging her clit. “You’re getting wet, baby.”
Sailor responded with a moan then Bodhi tumbled her to the carpet, yanking her shorts and her panties down. “This isn’t the recording studio,” Sailor chuckled as he kissed her belly then blew raspberries on it, making her shriek with laughter.
“There’s time enough for the studio,” he said gruffly, hitching her legs around his and thrusting his rigid cock inside her. Sailor sighed happily as they began to make love, and she thought to herself, Maybe. Maybe Bodhi’s right. Maybe no-one can touch us…
In the next few hours, she would be shown, in the most painful way possible, just how wrong they both were.
“You got the words wrong again,” Tim complained, and Soleil rolled her eyes, going back over the song they were singing together again. As usual, the Los Angeles traffic had ground to a halt, and the clock was edging ever nearer to nine. Tim didn’t seem bothered by being late, but it made her feel like a bad aunt, so she’d deliberately set off a few minutes earlier, only to be constrained by a traffic accident up ahead.
“Dang it,” she said, for once not cursing in Tim’s presence. That made her feel like a bad aunt too. She glanced over to Tim. He was so different from the shy, sullen boy she’d met almost a year ago; he had thrived under Bodhi, Sailor’s and she had to admit, even her own care. “Hey kiddo, you talk to your mom this week?”
Tim nodded. “She says she’s feeling a lot better now. I talked to Evan too.”
“You did? That’s good.”
“Yeah. I didn’t tell Dad that. I don’t think he likes Evan.”
Soleil smiled at Tim. “He just doesn’t know him, buddy. I think your Dad’s just a little jealous that Evan got to raise for so many years.”
“Okay. But that’s not Evan’s fault.”
“No, it’s not. And it’s not your dad’s, it’s just how things are.”
Tim was silent for a long time. “I think it’s my mom’s fault. I feel kind of angry with her.”
Soleil shook her head. “No, Timbo. Sometime
s we make decisions based on what is the best at the time. Your mom made a choice. Whether it was the best one or not, it was her choice. That’s all anyone could do.”
“I don’t want to go back to live with her.”
That shocked Soleil, and she swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. “Why not, pal?”
“Because…I think I make her sad. That’s why she went away.”
Tim’s word broke Soleil’s, heart. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t make her sad. And look at it this way, because your mom was sad, and that happens to us from time to time, you got to know your dad, and Sailor and me. And your grandma and Claudio and Tag, of course.”
Tim smiled at the mention of his canine friend back in Italy. “I’d like a dog.”
“Talk to your dad, I’m sure he’d get you one.”
Tim nodded happily. “I like living with Dad and Sailor and you. Will you live with us forever?”
Soleil, touched, grinned at him. “Sure you want me to? You know those missing Pop Tarts? That was me.”
Tim laughed. “I knew they hadn’t been stolen!”
Soleil peered out at the traffic in frustration. “Timbo, I’m going to get off the freeway here and go a different way. It might make us a little late, but not more than this damn traffic will. Okay with you?”
“Sure.”
Soleil pulled the car onto the off-ramp and off the freeway, not noticing the black SUV following behind them. They drove around the back streets for a while until they were only a few blocks from Tim’s school.
“So, what you got on today, kid…”
Soleil didn’t finish her sentence as her car was sidelined by the black SUV. It cornered their vehicle, slamming into it again and again, and didn’t let up until both Soleil and Tim were both stunned and concussed. Then Tim’s door was wrenched open, and he was grabbed by a large man. Tim started to scream and Soleil, yelling, was about to get out of her seat when she was grabbed and pinned back against her seat by someone who jumped in the back of her car. A hand was clamped over her mouth. A tall man, dragging Tim around to Soleil’s door, held Tim’s head, so he was staring directly at Soleil.
“Now, watch, Timmy. Watch what happens when you disobey me.”
Soleil, unable to move, saw Udo slip into the passenger seat. In his hand, a switchblade knife. Soleil tried to free herself as Udo cut open her shirt, but when she knew it was too late, she bit the hand covering her mouth. As the man behind her cursed, she turned to Tim with desperation in her eyes. “Don’t watch, Timmy, close your eyes.”
Bart Foy smiled at her. “No, do watch, Timmy…this will be fun.”
Udo stabbed Soleil repeatedly as Tim screamed. Solly gasped as the knife cut through her belly again and again, viciously, Udo smiling the entire time, before Bart told him to stop. Bart released a sobbing, hysterical Tim to his guard, and stepped up to the dying woman. Soleil moaned, her wounds pumping her precious blood out of her body. “If you live long enough, beautiful girl, tell Sailor that this can happen to her bastard lover’s son or it can happen to her. It’s her choice.”
Bart ran a fingertip down Soleil’s face as she bled out. “A shame. What a lovely woman.” He looked at Udo who handed him the knife, and with one brutal movement, Bart plunged the blade into Soleil’s stomach one last time. She vomited a fountain of blood as she heard Tim’s screaming getting further away.
Soleil now left alone, her hands freed, knew she was dying. She clutched the wounds on her abdomen and threw herself out of the car onto the hot asphalt, causing a scene, desperately to get her message across before she died. She heard voices, alarms, sirens, the sound of people rushing to her aid. The pain was unimaginable.
It’s too late…it’s too late. I’m dead…
As the first responders reached her, she pulled his head close and repeated what Bart had said to her. Tell them…tell them I’m sorry…Bodhi…Sailor…Tim…save Tim…
“Jesus, Jesus,” the cyclist bent over the bloodied, brutalized girl on the road and tried to give her first aid. Another woman rushed over. “I’ve called 911.”
The cyclist gave the stricken woman chest compressions as the woman blew oxygen into the girl’s lungs. She told him to stop a moment, felt for a pulse then shook her head. “She’s gone. She’s gone.”
A cop car pulled up then, and two cops rushed over. The cyclist, trembling shook his head. “She’s dead.”
One of the cops was staring down at Soleil’s dead body intently, and then he cursed loudly. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“That’s Bodhi Creed’s girlfriend. Jesus H Christ, that’s his girlfriend.”
The other cop looked shocked. “Dammit, call it in. And someone get over to Bodhi Creed’s house. This is going to be all over the news.”
As the first cop called in the murder, he examined Soleil’s car and paled. “God…look.” He held up a child’s knapsack. “She had a kid in the car…where’s the kid? Where’s the goddamned kid?”
Bodhi and Sailor sat on the couch too shocked and devastated to say anything. The detective watched them carefully. “You understand what I’m saying?”
Bodhi turned pained eyes to him. “Soleil is dead…and my son is missing. Missing.”
The detective, Jim Wallis, nodded. “Obviously, this has just happened, so we’re gathering information. Before she died, Ms. Fonseca told a witness that she was given a message for you, Miss King. Something like “This will happen to the boy or it will happen to you. Your choice.” Does that mean anything?”
Sailor, haunted, nodded. She explained everything about her escape from Bartholomew Foy and the cult, how Bay Tambe had been dragged into it, and now Solly. Oh god, Solly, I’m sorry… “He likes to kill women, detective. That’s the crux of the matter. He wants to kill me. That’s why he’s holding Tim so that I’ll go to him.” She turned to Bodhi. “Bodhi…I have to go to him. It’s Tim’s only chance.”
“No,” both Bodhi and Jim Wallis were vehement in their response.
“That’s not an option, Miss King,” continued Jim Wallis as Bodhi dropped his face into his hands. “We will find Tim, I promise you.”
“You don’t know Bart,” Sailor said in despair, “He has no humanity, no morality, and his people are everywhere. He probably has some in law enforcement.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Jim said grimly, “But I can promise you for sure; he will not get away with this.”
His cell phone rang, and he excused himself. Bodhi put his arms around Sailor “Soleil’s dead.” His voice was breaking, and he leaned his head against her. “And my son…god…”
Sailor couldn’t help the tears. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Bodhi. If I hadn’t…”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” he said, his eyes closed. “I couldn’t live without you, Sailor. This is when it ends, you know, this is when Bart Foy is brought to his knees.”
Sailor nodded. “Even if it costs me everything, Bodhi, I will get Tim back for you.”
Bodhi opened his eyes and gazed at her. “We do this together, okay? Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself. Bart Foy doesn’t get to kill anyone else.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I have to call Claudio to tell him. How the hell am I going to do that?”
Jim Wallis came back a short time later. “Mr. Creed…I’m sorry to have to ask you to do this, but we need someone to identify Ms. Fonseca’s body.”
Bodhi nodded, his face drained of color. “Of course. I have to call her brother; I think he’s still in Seattle…he’ll want to come and claim her body once the medical examiner releases it.”
“Of course. Look, we’re going to keep some people here for protection and to keep the press away. Someone must have called them almost as soon as it happened. Some journalists are outside now, but we’re keeping them away from the gate. Would you come with us now, Mr. Creed, before they start flocking?”
Sailor told him she would wait for him at home and he went to grab a sweater. Sailor pulled J
im Wallis aside. “How did she die, Detective Wallis? Please tell me. Bart…he has a favorite method.”
Jim Wallis hesitated then sighed. “Ms. Fonseca was stabbed repeatedly, Miss King.”
“In the abdomen?”
He nodded and Sailor sighed. “Yes. That’s Bart’s mo. That’s what turns him on. I just hope to god that Tim didn’t see it happen.”
“I hope so too.”
Bodhi gazed down at the face of his much-loved friend. In death, Soleil was just as beautiful, but the sparkle, her light, her humor, her energy…now Bodhi knew what the term ‘snuffed out’ really meant. She lay naked under a blood-soaked sheet; the medical examiner hadn’t had time to clean her wounds yet, but it was obvious where she had been stabbed, how horrifically she had been murdered.
“God, Solly, I’m so sorry,” he whispered again and again. Her eyes were closed, and Bodhi couldn’t understand how he’d never see them dance with laughter again. How could Soleil, of all people, be dead? Funny, smart, sexy, loving Solly. His tears dripped onto her face as he kissed her cold forehead and he heard the medical examiner cough. Jim Wallis touched his arm.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Creed but, you know, chain of evidence.”
Bodhi nodded. “Of course.” He shook his head, still unable to believe Soleil was dead. He turned to Jim Wallis. “We need to call Claudio Fonseca now before the press puts this online.”
They were too late. Sailor took the call from a near hysterical Claudio, who screamed at her that it was her fault Soleil was dead, and why the hell hadn’t they called him immediately and how could his beloved sister be dead?
Sailor took it all, every word of abuse, feeling like she deserved it. Finally, when Claudio, sobbing, had calmed down, he asked to speak to Bodhi. “He’s not here, Claudio…he’s at the medical examiner’s office…identifying Solly’s body.”
Another wave of ranting, and cursing in Italian. Sailor waited for him to finish, feeling as if she were in the body of someone else. Numb. “Claudio, Tim is missing. They took Tim. If you think you’re the only one blaming me for this, you’re wrong.”
Rockstar Untamed: A Single Dad Virgin Romance Page 13
