Re/Viewed

by Michele Zurlo

  Jordan came to him sometime later. Liam looked up to find his mentor watching quietly.

  “What’s up?”

  “They’re finished with the search. Everything has been boxed up and shipped to evidence. We need to process this room and catalog the evidence you want to take with you. The rest of the team is giving the apartment a final look-through.”

  Liam had sorted the papers into piles of items he thought might be relevant and those he knew were inconsequential. The inconsequential pile was very tiny, as he never knew what would prove to be important. “Okay. I’ve been making a list and taking pictures.”

  He and Jordan worked quietly side-by-side. The day had been long, and they were both tired. As he sorted the last stack of papers, he came to a receipt from a BDSM-themed inn called Zangari’s Fetish Inn. Liam had only heard of it in passing, but he was aware of its existence. He paused uncertainly.

  “Problem?” Jordan noticed Liam’s hesitation. “Did you find something significant?”

  “I don’t know. Was there kink equipment anywhere in the house?”

  Jordan shook his head. “Nothing except some silk scarves that might have been used for bondage. From their condition, I doubt it. They all seemed new, and they didn’t have any wrinkles that indicate they’d been tied in knots.”

  “There’s a receipt from Zangari’s Fetish Inn.”

  “Maybe he sold them some bath products? They probably have a spa somewhere on site, so that could net some larger profits.” Jordan studied the receipt. “It’s not very specific, but that’s to be expected. Not many people want a line item about a spanking vacation for their records. We’ll check it out, see where it leads.”

  Liam’s mind raced with a hundred questions, but he concentrated on ones that had nothing to do with the case. “Do you think Tru is a submissive?”

  Jordan didn’t pretend to be lost. “I don’t know. The best way to be sure is to ask her. If she is, she’ll tell you. If not, maybe she’s open to trying. Since you’re new to the lifestyle, it might be good to hook up with someone else who is also new. You can make mistakes and grow together.”

  What if she wasn’t new? She’d shown subtle signs like the dropping of her gaze and letting him take the lead. Of course those could be signs of natural submission. They could also be signs that she was experienced and that submission had become second nature because she’d been trained. Was there truly a way to recognize the distinction through behavioral observation—his weakest quality?

  Liam recognized that he needed to get out of his head before it exploded. “I’ll call her when we’re finished up here. Has anyone questioned the neighbors about Zarah Johnson’s whereabouts?”

  “I went with Agent Longstaff. It’s always good to have a local agent along for the questioning.”

  Liam thought that Agent Longstaff seemed a little green, and he couldn’t see where she’d be an asset. However Jordan didn’t seem to be joking. “What happened?”

  “Nothing much. We found a nosy neighbor on the first floor who didn’t know anything, but who had plenty to say about the age difference. She used the term ‘gold-digger.’ Given that Braithwaite didn’t seem to have any assets, I don’t know how the term applies.” Jordan clenched his teeth together. “Just because one person is younger than the other doesn’t mean they’re after money.”

  Being younger than his girlfriend, Jordan was sometimes touchy about the issue. Personally Liam didn’t think it was a big deal or a large age difference. Nobody would have thought twice about a man six years older than his lover, but people sure judged when it was the other way around. Still he couldn’t let this opportunity slide. “Maybe she was looking for a father figure who was good in bed?”

  Jordan glared, but Liam only laughed.

  “You’re taking this too personally. I found performance-enhancing drugs in the medicine cabinet. Angelo’s wood had pharmaceutical assistance.” It occurred to Liam that Jordan might have discounted a witness’s observations for personal reasons. “Are you sure she wasn’t a gold-digger? To someone with nothing, a two-bedroom apartment in a good area is golden, and California is not a cheap place to live.”

  While Jordan looked like he didn’t rule it out, he didn’t seem to love that theory either. “We need to find her. Neighbors haven’t seen either of them in over a week, and their car isn’t in the parking lot here or at The Abiding Tide. She may be dead or on the run. We won’t know until we find her.”

  He finished bagging and labeling the papers he wanted to study later. All electronics were missing, so if Braithwaite had a laptop it was probably in his car, with whomever had murdered him, or destroyed. On the way out, they encountered Agent Longstaff standing in the door to the bathroom and holding up a single red stone.

  “Is that a ruby?” Liam wasn’t an expert on gems, but he’d done some research after Avery had floated a diamond smuggling theory during their brainstorming session last week. Even more terrible than the conditions in the illegal diamond trade, the Pigeon’s Blood rubies were mined by slave labor in Myanmar to support the military junta that controlled parts of the country. These were the most expensive gems per carat in the world.

  Agent Longstaff sighed. “Uncut. I bet it doesn’t have a KPCS number. It pains me that something this beautiful is going to spend the next hundred years gathering dust in an FBI evidence locker.” She carefully placed it into a plastic evidence bag. “It was in the medicine cabinet tucked away in a bottle of store brand ibuprofen.”

  “That sheds a different light on trafficking illegal gems and drugs.” Liam peered over Agent Longstaff’s shoulder and into the bathroom. “Is that all you found?”

  “So far. We weren’t looking for gems, just anything that could indicate a connection with The Eye, most of which we expected to be on Braithwaite’s missing laptop.” She flashed a tired grin. “Gentlemen, we’re in for a long night. I’ll send someone on a coffee run.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I met someone.” Tru folded the clothes she’d carelessly tossed onto a chair. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d straightened up a hotel room with the expectation that she’d soon entertain a man in it.

  “I know. You told me that yesterday.” Poppy’s voice came over the speaker on Tru’s cell phone, strategically located on the table next to the chair.

  She’d mentioned Liam and being questioned by the FBI. “Different guy. But that guy was a good kisser. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went outside. He was there. We talked. We kissed. This morning he was gone, and I spent the afternoon with this new guy.”

  Poppy laughed. “Geez, Tru. When it rains, it pours. I guess your drought is over.”

  “Temporarily, at least. I’m only here for two more nights.” That didn’t mean the FBI would stay for another two days, but at least she’d have tonight with Jed. “Anyway, his name is Jed, and he’s also an FBI agent.”

  “I’m sensing a pattern. This is weird. You’ve never had a type before.” Static interrupted whatever Poppy said next. Northport didn’t have many cell towers.

  Tru waited for the static to clear. “I like strong, dominant men. Apparently lots of them work for the FBI.”

  “The next time you have a chance to go clubbing, you should find a place near a field office.” Poppy sighed. “And take me. I love small town life, but the problem with living in the same small town where I grew up is that I know everybody already. No matter what he looks like now, it’s hard to get excited about a guy you’ve seen wet his pants in fourth grade.”

  “Ah, the Darren Gabton debacle. You’re right. He’s going to have to leave Northport to find a wife.” Tru shook her head in remembrance. “Did he ask you out?”

  “He did. I thought about it, but after I imagined what our kids would look like, I thought about him walking around with those wet pants, telling everyone that the drinking fountain had spit on him even though he smelled like urine. I couldn’t do it.” Poppy’s laugh held a tinge of regret. “Tell me a
bout this FBI agent who has swept you off your feet, and I’ll tell you about the guy who tripped and fell into a curio cabinet full of carnival glass this morning.”

  Small towns were full of dull moments, but Poppy managed to attract her fair share of drama. Tru chatted with her best friend for fifteen more minutes before hanging up. She needed to shower the smell of sunscreen and ocean from her skin.

  The knock on her door came promptly at seven. She threw it open to find Jed smiling widely. He wore a suit with a white shirt and no tie. He’d left the top two buttons open, but the shirt didn’t gape enough to do more than tease. He was as sexy in a suit as he was wearing wet cargo shorts and beach shoes.

  While she’d checked him out, he’d been doing the same with her. She’d chosen a simple, patterned dress that fell to her knees. The neckline plunged to show a generous amount of cleavage, and the three-quarter sleeves were split from elbow to shoulder. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” She leaned close and tilted her face up for a kiss. “I left off the cherry lip gloss.”

  He laughed and pulled her against him. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, though if there was a way to get me to like cherries, your lips being that flavor might do the trick.” He kissed her gently, another teaser that made an implicit promise for later. “How was the rest of your afternoon?”

  “I napped.” The bike ride and the kayaking excursion had left her exhausted. She’d slept solidly for almost two hours. “And then I took a shower. It was very uneventful. How was your afternoon?”

  “Not as restful as yours. Do you have your key? I reserved a table for us downstairs, and I’ve already ordered dinner.” He waited while she locked her door, and then he offered his arm. It had been a long time since a man had treated her with such respect. This is what she missed about being with someone who practiced the art of respectful Dominance.

  She walked down the stairs on his arm. Just like on the beach, she didn’t need him to steady her, but the fact of him being there made her feel the power of her femininity. He pulled out her chair and made sure she was comfortable before assuming the seat across the table.

  The salad course came before either of them could utter a word.

  “I’m starved.” He stabbed a cherry tomato and popped it into his mouth.

  “You like vegetables?” This could be a fluke. When she thought back to last night, she couldn’t remember what he’d eaten. She couldn’t even remember what she’d eaten. The only clear memory about the food was when the agents had teased Liam about liking ketchup on everything.

  “Love them.” He grinned. “It’s just fruit I’m not crazy about, though technically a tomato is a fruit.”

  She let the tomato as fruit/veggie thing go. It didn’t matter. “That’s a relief. I was getting worried about your health.” Not that it was any of her business. She wasn’t in a position to nag him for the lack of fruit in his diet, and she had no plans to gain the right. It was time to change the subject. “How was work?”

  “Investigations are ninety-nine percent research and one percent action. Brandy and Avery brought me up to speed on what they’d found while I was out with you.” He flashed a devilish grin that let her know he had no regrets about ditching his duties for a few hours. “It would be helpful if you could remember when and where you saw Angelo Braithwaite alive.”

  She hadn’t yet looked through her notebook. “I’ll look tomorrow to see if I mentioned him in my notes, but his name isn’t familiar. I’m going to have to look for a description.”

  He loaded lettuce and cucumber onto his fork. “How about you look tonight?”

  She finished chewing and swallowing before donning her flirtiest frown. “I thought we’d be too busy doing other things tonight.”

  “Such as?” That teasing smile was back, and his voice had deepened.

  “Dinner, for one.”

  “Dinner will only take so long.”

  “A glass of wine, a moonlit walk. I’m not picky, but I do like a bit of romance on a date, especially if I plan to get lucky.”

  He motioned to the server, who brought forth a bottle of wine and two glasses. Once she left, Jed lifted his glass. “I wasn’t sure if this was going to be more than dinner. There’s no pressure, Tru. I don’t want you to make a hasty decision that you may regret later.”

  The only thing she’d regret would be not taking this as far as it would go. “I’m not saying we should scene. We don’t know each other well enough for that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun. It isn’t often that I meet an attractive Dom who is great in a tandem kayak.”

  He laughed. “That’s what sealed the deal?”

  “It was the kiss, though the kayaking was definitely a bonus.” Rhythm and stamina would come in handy later. Finished with the salad, she put down her fork. Dessert wouldn’t be for a while, so she changed the topic again. “You must meet all kinds of people in your line of work. What has been your weirdest case so far?”

  “I once had to chase down a guy dressed in a clown suit who was wanted for embezzlement in three states. He was wearing these really long shoes, and he kept jumping into the air every few steps to keep from tripping. He only got as far as he did because I couldn’t stop laughing, and that slowed me down. After I arrested him, he kept bopping his fake nose against the window of the car to make it squeak. He annoyed the hell out of Dustin, who was my partner at the time, and he mimed that he was sobbing when Dustin took away the nose.”

  Tru snort-and-giggled at the image of the clown leaping every few steps. “I used to be afraid of clowns, but one time when I was in the hospital, one visited. All the kids loved him because he made us laugh.” After that, she’d let go of her fear. She’d let go of a lot of fears that year.

  “What were you in the hospital for?” The main course had arrived, and he cut into his broasted chicken.

  She didn’t like to talk about being in the hospital, and she wondered what had possessed her to mention it at all. In the past, she’d always couched it to make any reference sound like she’d been visiting someone else. At least she hadn’t specified that she’d been in the children’s oncology ward. She scrambled to cover her tracks. “I’d been sick.”

  He chuckled. “Obviously. But you’re over it now.”

  “Yes.” Twelve years of remission meant it was unlikely to recur again, though it wasn’t impossible. That’s why she lived each day to the fullest and greeted each new experience with enthusiasm. Unbidden, an image of the bathtub crashing through the floor of that B&B came to mind, and she remembered where she’d seen Angelo Braithwaite before. She grabbed Jed’s hand. “I think Braithwaite was at The Captain’s Nest when I was there last month. I was in the common room writing my review. It was after midnight, and this man started a conversation with me. That’s when the bathtub crashed through the floor. It wasn’t his room, but he was there, hanging out in the common room after midnight.”

  “Do you remember what you talked about?”

  “I had a headache, and he said he had insomnia. I wanted to finish my article before going upstairs to take something. You know, staring at a computer screen doesn’t help a headache to go away. Anyway, he was going to go to the kitchen to get some warm milk.” Bits and pieces came back to her. “He was there with his wife. She was younger, one of those California blondes that all have the same nose job and collagen lips.” It occurred to her that maybe the woman hadn’t been all that much younger, but she honestly couldn’t recall enough to judge. Maybe she’d just had a really good facelift. “I didn’t meet her. After the accident, they herded us all to our rooms. It was chaos. Most people packed up and left. I mean, I wasn’t going to sleep well or shower after that happened.”

  Jed nodded, and she noted the change in his demeanor. Now he was all business. “Did he mention anything about where he was going or where he’d been? Did he talk about his job? Did you see him talk with anyone at all while you were there?”

  That was a lot of questions a
t once. “He talked with his wife and some of the other guests. I didn’t really pay attention to him. He wasn’t very interesting. I only mentioned him on my blog because he was there when the tub fell through, but I didn’t know his name, so I called him Insomniac Guy. I’m sorry, but that was the only time I talked to him, and I never had a conversation with his wife.”

  “How did you now she was his wife?”

  Tru shrugged. “Body language. They seemed really into each other, so maybe I made an assumption. He might have mentioned having a wife, but I don’t remember. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful. I didn’t know that someone was going to murder him. He seemed harmless and forgettable.”

  Jed stood. “I’ll be right back. I need to grab Brandy. She’s going to want to ask you some questions.”

  At this point, Tru was wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. Not only had her date been interrupted, but she was about to be asked another barrage of questions to which she didn’t know the answers. She’d told Jed everything she knew. With a sigh, she finished her broasted chicken. No sense in letting it get cold.

  Jed was quiet as he walked her back to her room. Agent Lockmeyer’s questioning had gone on longer than Tru thought necessary, and she’d asked the same questions in a multitude of ways. If there was an opening as the head of the redundancy department, Brandy Lockmeyer would be a shoo-in. Of course Liam’s questioning technique had been very similar. This is where her tax dollars went. Well, there and to finance tax breaks for the wealthy.

  “This must rate a place on your list of top ten worst dates.” Jed’s smile betrayed his regret.