Re/Viewed

by Michele Zurlo

  It had to be done, but it was the kind of bullshit work that Liam hated. Yeah, it was thorough detective work, but it was unlikely to lead anywhere productive. He rubbed his sore shoulder and tapped in the commands to call up the data Jed requested.

  “How’s your shoulder?” Jordan’s smirk blared through his tone. “Didn’t Dustin tell you to switch sides?”

  He had, but Liam had been too caught up in the experience to remember. “Yeah. I forgot.”

  Without looking up from the police history Liam had pulled up, Jed lifted an interested brow. “Sounds like you’re practicing with a flogger?”

  “Yeah. I’m not bad.” He didn’t want to brag, but Layla had been fairly pleased with his performance. Before Jordan or someone else could make some kind of snarky comment, Liam changed the subject back to the investigation. “It’s weird that he doesn’t have social media accounts. He’s in sales, which is all about contacts. You’d think he’d be all over the place, Instagramming pictures of shampoo in hotel bathrooms.”

  Brandy tapped her fingernail on the table separating her from Avery. She brushed back a stray hair that had fallen from her ponytail. “So you’re saying that he was probably in league with The Eye, and he pissed them off. We know they have no problem assassinating their own people.”

  Jordan nodded somberly. “And any witnesses. We had a witness, right? Is he or she in protective custody?”

  “No,” Avery answered. “Gertrude Martin is not. According to the report I have, she went on a tour of a vineyard and a hiking trip at a nearby park with a group of tourists today. We’ll catch her tonight at the hotel.”

  “I guess it makes for a memorable vacation,” Jed said. “Poor woman.”

  “She’s drinking wine and hiking.” Liam’s sympathy soured. “She doesn’t seem that upset.”

  Jed considered that. “Or whoever she’s with made her go to take her mind off what she found. That’s what I would do.”

  Three hours later, Liam found himself stationed at the far end of The Abiding Tide’s parking lot with Jordan at his side. Behind them, the path to the small cove was cordoned off with crime scene tape. To the north and east, trails disappeared into the woods. None of the evidence was ready for them to view. The autopsy wouldn’t be done until the next day, and the lab results needed time to process. Even though they’d prioritized and rushed everything, tests still took time to yield results.

  So they were stuck hanging out at The Abiding Tide, which wasn’t a hotel. It was a bed-and-breakfast getaway destination, one of those cutesy places that offered cooking and art projects for their patrons. The place bustled with activity, especially now that the body of a guest had been found and the beach was off-limits. Low tide would be in two hours, so they had time to kill. Liam hoped they’d spend it talking to the single witness, but after her hike, she’d disappeared with a group of amateur birdwatchers. They’d missed her by a half hour.

  “So much for slowing down in your old age.” Liam squinted behind his sunglasses to mitigate some of the brightness of the sun glinting from the ocean.

  Jordan took a moment to finish chewing the handful of sunflower seeds he’d stuffed into his mouth. “What do you mean?”

  “This Gertrude Martin woman. This morning she explored a cave and found a body. Then she went for a strenuous hike through the redwoods—I looked up the trail the group was scheduled to go on—and now she’s walking around with birdwatchers.” Liam wasn’t lazy, but he preferred his vacation time to include a lot of lounging around. “I have this image of a battle axe in my head, iron grey hair and steely eyes. She’s probably one tough old broad. I bet she can kick ass and take names.”

  Mouth pursed thoughtfully, Jordan stared at him. “You didn’t see the photo with her statement.”

  Liam hadn’t looked at her statement. He’d focused on uncovering data related to the victim. Based on Jordan’s reaction, Liam figured he was way off base. “She’s young and hot? With a name like Gertrude? Are you kidding me?”

  With a casual lift of his shoulder, Jordan shrugged. “About your age. Pretty enough.”

  Feeling sheepish, Liam pulled up Ms. Martin’s file on his phone. The face staring back at him seemed pale under her tan, probably a reaction to finding a body where she hadn’t expected one. Dark brown hair framed a classically beautiful, round face. Her arms hugged around her body, and sadness marked the lines of her mouth. She wasn’t quite facing the camera. Since she wasn’t looking at it either, Liam figured she hadn’t known someone was snapping a file photo of her. “She’s definitely not a battle axe, though that doesn’t mean she won’t become one eventually.”

  Jordan chuckled and tossed another handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth.

  Since they had time to kill, Liam decided to broach a topic that had been on his mind a lot lately, and more so since his session with Layla that morning. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  Jordan was a different kind of Dom than Malcolm or Dustin, but he was the one with whom Liam spent the most time. Despite his deadly appearance, he was also remarkably easy to talk to. “I think I might be...you know.”

  Jordan’s jaw slowed its motion, and Liam could almost hear the wheels turning in Jordan’s head. “No, I don’t know. If you’re thinking you might be gay, then all I can say is be who you are. Nobody here is going to judge you, though Avery might try to set you up with her brother.”

  Caught off guard, Liam could only laugh. He’d met Avery’s brother. Like her, he was a tall blond with a pretty, feminine face. Liam couldn’t remember ever having that kind of chemistry with another man, so he discarded the idea. “No, I like women too much to give them up. I meant I think I want to become a Dom.”

  This time, Jordan’s chest convulsed with laughter.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Dare, there’s a difference between topping a bottom and dominating a submissive.”

  He had no experience in either realm. Well he supposed he had a tiny bit of experience topping, but he’d done that under strict supervision. “Which is?”

  “Topping is temporary, and the entire scenario is laid out ahead of time and agreed to by both parties. Some people even script it. A dominant is a person who exerts control in a respectful, intelligent, and humble manner. He or she is a natural leader. They have a strong character, high ideals, and they adhere to a moral code that allows them and their submissive to flourish.” Jordan gestured with his hands as he ticked off boxes on his checklist.

  Liam considered himself a natural leader, and his moral code was fairly strict. “I like to be in control, but I need help with the details. I’m not all that humble, for starters. Would you be willing to mentor me?”

  Jordan had experience as a mentor to fledgling Doms, so this request probably didn’t take him by surprise. He thought for several long seconds. “I’m not sure about you, Dare. I like you as a person and as a friend, but you live too much inside your own head. Even as an agent, you sometimes forget that we’re here to serve and protect people. I mean, here we are, on the lookout for our witness, and you didn’t even look at her picture.”

  Those accusations were true, and Liam didn’t bother to make excuses. He’d dropped the ball where their witness was concerned. Though he knew everything there was to know about the victim, it wasn’t enough. “So, if you mentor me, I’ll become a good Dom and a great agent.”

  “You make a good point.” Jordan rubbed the back of his neck. After a few moments, he sighed. “I’ll mentor you if you agree to my terms.”

  Terms and conditions apply. Every relationship contained fine print. “Sure.”

  “I’m going to give you things to do—tasks that involve research and reflection. I’ll have you interview people in the lifestyle as well.”

  That didn’t sound unreasonable.

  “And you can’t scene or have Dominant sex unless an experienced Dom is present.”

  Liam lifted both brows and lowered his mirror
ed sunglasses. He peered at Jordan. “You want to watch me have sex? I didn’t peg you as the voyeur type.”

  “I’m not, and a scene doesn’t have to involve sex. You scened with Layla this morning, and since you’re still alive, sex wasn’t involved.”

  Liam let his sunglasses and eyebrows drop back into place. “Oh. What if I meet a woman I want to have sex with?”

  “Ease into it. I can be present at your negotiation to help you both navigate it, especially if she’s new to the lifestyle.” Jordan dug deep into his bag of sunflower seeds. “Or Amy can help out if your sub is uncomfortable facing down two Doms. She’s a natural negotiator.”

  Amy didn’t strike Liam as a natural negotiator. “Amy? Doesn’t she just do what you tell her to do?”

  At this, Jordan chuckled. “No. No submissive who is worthwhile is going to let anyone walk all over them. Amy and I negotiate all the time. Any orders you’ve heard me give to her wasn’t negotiation—those were things we’ve already worked out.”

  “But when we left, you told her to clean the apartment. You told her to pick up the mess in every room and do a deep cleaning—washing walls and dry cleaning the drapes and everything. Even my mom won’t clean my whole apartment like that. She’ll pick up my mail and water my plants, maybe do some of my laundry or vacuum, but she won’t be my Molly Maid.” Liam briefly entertained an image of a faceless woman wearing a sexy outfit and dusting his TV stand, but it threatened to degenerate into primal sex fairly quickly.

  “The mess is hers. She has a ton of stuff for her event planning business, and it’s scattered in every open space in the apartment. Somehow, she managed to also get glitter all over the wall and drapes in the living room. I hate clutter, and she knows it. Her event is over, and we’ve agreed that when her event ended, she would do a deep cleaning of every room she took over. Plus she needs to pack that stuff up for the move. Our house will be ready in two weeks.”

  Amy’s house had been destroyed by a bomb meant to kill her, and the whole structure had to be rebuilt. Since he was moving in, Jordan had included some upgrades in the plans, including more bedroom space to house an eventual family. Liam nodded because he understood that he’d heard the tail end of that conversation—a reminder to follow through on something already agreed upon.

  Jordan pointed to a couple having a conversation at the picnic table near the parking lot. “Let’s practice living in the present. Read them.”

  Liam dissected them for a few minutes. He noted the way they stood. She had her arms crossed, but she looked relaxed. The man did most of the talking, gesturing toward the ocean every few seconds. Then he finished, and she took a turn talking. He laughed at something, throwing his head back and slapping his palm on the top of the picnic table.

  “They’re not a couple,” Liam said at last. “Friends, maybe, or they’re related.”

  Jordan nodded. “What makes you say that?”

  “She’s not playing with her hair or smiling up at him. He’s not trying to touch her. They’re comfortable being in close proximity, and they know each other’s conversational style. Neither interrupts the other, or they’re used to being interrupted. He’s a little clueless when it comes to personal space, though.” That was really all he had.

  “Good. I agree. Don’t know if we’re right, but we’re probably close.” Jordan’s phone buzzed. He slid it from his pocket. “Avery found our witness. She returned from the south side.”

  They trudged through the parking lot to the front of the establishment to see Brandy and Avery approach a dark-haired woman. She wore jeans and a jacket, and she’d tied her hair back in a ponytail. Her brown eyes were wary, but they still managed to be warm and friendly. Something primal in him responded to her—from the grace of her posture to the way she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He wanted to touch her, even if it was a light tap on the back of her hand, and he wanted to listen to her talk. This unexpected and extreme reaction took Liam by surprise, but he schooled his features into the neutral expression demanded by his job. He studied her, noting the impatient way she scratched her forehead and grimaced as Brandy introduced herself.

  As they came closer, the witness looked away from Brandy and spotted him. The frown wrinkling her chin deepened. He stopped next to Brandy and extended his hand. “Hi, Ms. Martin. I’m SSA Liam Adair, and this SSA Jordan Monaghan.”

  Her gaze sidled to Jordan briefly before returning to Liam. She looked him up and down. Electricity arced between them, and for a second, Liam felt like they were the only two people on the planet, but that feeling faded when she declined to shake his hand.

  Brandy shot him a curious glance, something he wouldn’t have noticed before Jordan’s lesson on how to pay attention to subtle signals. She gestured to Jed, who had finally joined them. “And this is SSA Jed Kinsley. We really would like to ask you to run though what happened this morning for us.”

  Birdwatching had been a sedate experience, which Tru welcomed after the way her day had begun. Though she didn’t know much about birds, the outing, led by a volunteer from the local Audubon chapter, had been interesting and informative. She’d definitely recommend it in her review.

  Right now she was tired. Between the vineyard, the hike, and the birdwatching, she had no idea how many miles she’d trekked. By the time they’d emerged from the woods, she was ready for a hot meal and a soft bed. First she’d call Gram. Earlier she’d phoned to give an update on the situation, but Gram had been called away to deal with a guest-related emergency. Running a bed and breakfast was a lot of work, and Gram took pride in making sure the Northport Bed and Breakfast delivered a quality experience to every guest.

  Now, when she’d stopped the worst of those gruesome images from popping up in her head, these agents wanted to press the refresh button. “I already gave a statement.” She wanted to soak in the luxurious tub waiting in her room.

  “We really need to go over your statement before too much time passes.” Agent Lockmeyer looked like the kind of woman nobody fucked with. With whom nobody fucked. The writer in her head autocorrected the thought. “Give us a half hour.”

  Tru wasn’t the kind of person who was going to deny law enforcement anything, but she didn’t see why they couldn’t wait an hour. She rubbed her temple against the third tremor of a hunger headache. “After dinner. I haven’t eaten in hours, and I’m starving.”

  “Sure. Absolutely. We appreciate how difficult this must be for you.”

  Tru looked toward the two agents on her left. One was extra huge, impossibly tall and broad-shouldered. His shaggy, dark hair brushed his shoulders in what definitely wasn’t a regulation FBI style. She dismissed him and concentrated on the man who had spoken. Though he wasn’t as gigantic, he was decently tall and well-built. His hair was wavy brown and neatly trimmed, and his crystal blue eyes seemed to bore right through to her soul. She felt an instant connection, and she realized that he was familiar.

  In her whole life, Tru had not disclosed to another person—not even Gram or Poppy—that she sometimes saw images of people before she met them or snippets of events before they happened. Besides, her precognition was unpredictable and the visions were always out of context. This man had appeared in several of her recent visions, but those had been like still photos without a background or a timestamp.

  SSA Liam Adair followed up his statement with a smile, an effortless move even though she’d rejected his offer of a handshake. Liam. He had a sexy name to go with a sexy body that looked really good in a suit. If she kept looking at him with her jaw hanging open, he was going to think she was an idiot, so she swiveled her neck to the right, and the sight there hit her over the head just as hard.

  This handsome man was also familiar, and his broad shoulders made her itch to run her hands over them and squeeze-test their hardness. This was another man from one of her visions. He had black hair and almond-shaped chocolate eyes. Goodness, she was hungry, and being between these sexy agents made her want more than just
food. Or she was so tired that she could only think of food comparisons. Yeah, that sounded better than struck silly because two hot guys whose images had appeared in her visions were smiling at her. She closed her eyes to combat the effects of Mr. Almond Chocolate and Mr. Blue Eyes. She’d never expected both the men from her visions to show up at the same time.

  She sought to put an end to this awkward and unexpectedly heated—at least on her side—interaction. “Great. Let’s meet in the common room in one hour.” Food and sleep—that’s what she needed. Tru threw a last glance at her dream men before she hightailed her ass out of there. She rinsed off in the shower and brushed remnants of the forest from her hair, and then she called Poppy. Her best friend since fourth grade would help her sort out her feelings.

  “Sup?” Poppy answered on the second ring. “Find another body?”

  Tru recoiled. “No. Thank goodness. If I never see another dead guy with his head bashed in, it’ll be too soon.”

  “Did you go on the vineyard tour and the trail hike?”

  “Yeah. I went out with birdwatchers too. I’m already so tired. I hope I don’t dream tonight.” Part of the reason Tru had added the birdwatching to her itinerary was to ensure exhaustion so that she wouldn’t have nightmares.

  “Oh, sweetie, I wish I was there with you.” Poppy let that bit of sympathy sink in before continuing. “Did you see any cool birds, like an eagle or a hawk?”

  “No. Most of them were the begging kind, like seagulls and cormorants. I...um...A bunch of FBI agents showed up here to question me. Two of them are smoking hot.”

  “Really?” Poppy’s tone became conspiratorial. “Did they flirt and make lewd suggestions, or did you make the first move?”

  Heat rose in her cheeks and chest just thinking about them. They’d both been utterly professional. Agent Kinsley hadn’t said a word. He’d simply smiled and nodded when his boss had introduced him. “None of the above. The one guy, I think he finds me attractive, but the other one didn’t give off any obvious vibes.”