Dressed to Kill (COBRA Securities Book 22)

by Velvet Vaughn

  And Joanna gave her the reason when she stole merchandise.

  “That’s enough questions. I need to get to work.” Joanna started walking again.

  “Just one more thing,” she said in her best Columbo imitation. “Where were you Sunday night?”

  Joanna stopped and turned to her. “What business is that of yours?”

  “Got something to hide?” It was a stretch to think Joanna had anything to do with Shoshana’s murder, but she obviously held a grudge against the woman.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was at my grandmother’s house in Poughkeepsie all day. She thinks if she takes me to church and prays, she can,” Joanna made air quotes, “cure me of my dreaded disease. That’s what she calls lesbianism. Anyway, I took the train home Monday morning. You can call the old bat if you want.” She rattled off a number. “You can check the train manifest, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Kaiya let her go. Joanna might be guilty of theft, but she didn’t think she had anything to do with either the destruction or Shoshana’s death. She couldn’t hide the shock when Kaiya asked about the ruined suits. And she talked about Shoshana as if she were still alive.

  Still, she dialed the number for Joanna’s grandmother and verified her alibi. When Kaiya explained she was asking about her granddaughter, the woman spouted on about the evils of same-sex relationships. It took twenty minutes before Kaiya could extract herself from the call.

  One down, one to go. She headed to the store where Ruth Long worked. The shop was located in a building not far from Fontana Towers. A bell chimed when she opened the door and stepped inside. She’d studied the pictures of Ruth and spotted the redhead folding shirts on a table in the middle of the store.

  “Ruth Long?”

  The woman’s head snapped up with a startled look. “Yes?”

  “My name is Kaiya, and I work for a private security company. I need to speak with you about your time working for Brooklyn Fontana.”

  Ruth’s expression closed, and her lips firmed. “I’m busy right now.”

  One of the other workers overheard. “Go ahead and take your break, Ruth. I’ve got the floor.”

  Ruth stared daggers at the woman’s back before turning her sour expression to Kaiya. “Fine. Five minutes.”

  Kaiya followed her to the back of the store and out a door that led to a small alley. Ruth took out a cigarette and lit the tip. She took a deep drag before asking, “What do you want?”

  Kaiya took a step back. She preferred the stench of the overflowing dumpster to the noxious smoke. “Can you tell me why you left your job?”

  “Because they didn’t recognize my talent.”

  “What talent is that?”

  “I’ve been trying to land a job as a wardrobe assistant since I moved to New York. My dream is to be a stylist for a designer or magazine. I know how to create a look with clothes and accessories. I took the receptionist position with the goal of being offered one of the assistant jobs for the show. I made my interest known and even supplied my resume, but the bitch wouldn’t even give me an interview, so I quit.”

  “You’re talking about Brooklyn?”

  Ruth took another drag and blew out the smoke. “No. Shoshana Emery.”

  Interesting. Another person who wasn’t a fan of the late stylist.

  “I was excited when I found out she was in charge of wardrobe. I’ve studied her designs and followed her career. She has a stellar reputation, and I’d always heard she was fair. But she already had her staff picked out.”

  Kaiya was starting to believe Shoshana wasn’t the evil person Joanna and Ruth made her out to be. “Did you have access to the clothes for the show?”

  Ruth tapped off the ashes. “Hell, no. I wasn’t even allowed in the room.”

  “You must’ve accepted deliveries.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Did you ever open the boxes to look inside?”

  “Again, no. I wasn’t allowed. Shoshana was an uptight, malicious bitch. She wanted to open them.” She shrugged. “It worked out for the best. I wouldn’t have been happy working for her.”

  “When’s the last time you talked to her?”

  “The day I walked out.”

  “You haven’t seen her since?”

  “No, and I hope I never do. I’d be tempted to punch her in the face for overlooking me. I’m going to be a star.”

  Despite delusions of grandeur, it didn’t sound like Ruth knew about Shoshana’s death. “Where were you Sunday evening?”

  “Home. Why?”

  “Can anyone verify that?”

  “No. I don’t have a roommate at the moment. My last one moved out, and I’m looking for a replacement now.”

  “You didn’t call anyone, order takeout?”

  “I make a paltry salary in a city that costs like fifteen times the national average. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

  She ground the cigarette butt beneath her boot. “I don’t order takeout. I survive on ramen noodles and stale bagels from the shop beneath my apartment.”

  “Did you watch any movies? Call a friend?”

  She thrust out a hip. “Look, I was home, and no, I can’t prove it. But I was there. Why are you asking me these questions? Do I need an alibi?”

  “Shoshana Emery was murdered on Sunday evening.”

  Ruth gasped and took a step back. “What? I had no idea.” Then her eyes narrowed. “You think I killed her?”

  “Did you?”

  “Look, I hated her, but I respected her. You know? I wanted to be her. But I would never resort to violence. That’s why I walked.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get back to work. I can’t afford to lose another job.”

  Kaiya watched her go. Ruth looked good on paper for the crimes, but Kaiya didn’t feel she was guilty. She was genuinely surprised to learn that Shoshana had been murdered.

  She fired off a text telling Gage that Joanna Greer and Ruth Long weren’t suspects in her opinion.

  #

  Gage should be disturbed about how desperately he clung to Brooklyn, but he honestly thought his number was up when the boat exploded. He knew it was risky climbing aboard, but he couldn’t leave a person to die in the flames if he could help it.

  As it was, the woman was bloody and unconscious when he lifted her into his arms. He didn’t have time to check for a pulse, nor the option of stabilizing her if she suffered a spinal injury.

  With one last squeeze, he released Brooklyn to assist the injured. If his bosses said anything about inappropriate actions, he could explain it away by reminding them that the cameras were rolling—and they were. At least six operators roamed the pier, documenting the scene.

  Ignoring them, he focused on the victims. Five were awake and four unconscious. One woman sobbed uncontrollably as Jade tried to calm her down.

  He checked for a pulse from the woman he saved. He found one, but it was weak. Blood mingled with ocean water in her hair. A helicopter arrived and landed at the helipad. A few minutes later, a cutter with Coast Guard written on the side appeared. It looked like the same one that picked him and Brooklyn up yesterday. It was confirmed when one man jumped to the dock and said, “So, we meet again.” Gage remembered the stitching on his uniform read Louis, though he wasn’t sure if it was a first or last name.

  “You got here fast,” Luke said.

  “We were out already and saw the explosion.”

  The crew from the med-evac arrived and, having been deemed the most critical, loaded the woman he’d saved onto a gurney. They slid her onto the island medical cart like those used to transport injured football players off the field and drove to the chopper.

  Louis pulled him aside while his crew stabilized the wounded and loaded them onto their ship.

  “I wanted to let you know we identified the captain from yesterday, and he was under suspicion for drug running. We haven’t located the other boat yet, but we fee
l relatively confident that the shooting had to do with him. He owed money to dangerous people.”

  It was a relief to hear and eased Gage’s concerns somewhat, but it was still too coincidental to be caught up in two explosions so close together—three if you counted the latest boat, but he didn’t. It was a case of operator error on both drivers.

  The fire was almost out, but debris littered the water. They left the security crew to deal with the Coast Guard regarding cleanup. He wasn’t sure whose responsibility it was, but it needed to be done.

  #

  Brooklyn couldn’t stop shaking. She hadn’t been in on the rescue, but her nerves were on edge. The Coast Guard had arrived, and she recognized several of the same people who’d rescued her and Gage yesterday.

  “Brooklyn?” Lyle Briggs came rushing down the pier. “Are you okay?” Sweat coated the island manager’s forehead.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Thank goodness. When I heard about the accident and that you were involved, I couldn’t get here fast enough. I’d better see what I can do.” He hurried to talk to a member of the security team.

  While the injured were being tended to, another boat eased around the debris and pulled up to the pier.

  “Oh, my God. What happened?”

  She turned to see Stella jogging toward her.

  “Two boats full of paparazzi collided,” Brooklyn told her.

  “Are they dead?”

  Brooklyn looked at the people who had yet to regain consciousness. They were being strapped to boards and transferred to the Coast Guard vessel. The woman who was the most serious had been rushed to the helicopter. It lifted and passed over them on the way to the hospital. “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, my gosh. Brooklyn, that’s Juliet LaRue! And Layla Brooks! Oh, and Cassidy Swain, Harlow Duquesne, and Peyton Durant! They’re really here.”

  “The photographers were following them when they collided.”

  Camera crews were in the heart of the action, filming everything. While it wouldn’t be used for the show, she assumed they’d either give the footage to major news outlets or sell it.

  “Who are those delicious specimens?” Stella whispered.

  She followed her assistant’s gaze. Though the other men were definitely attractive, she only had eyes for Gage. “Husbands.”

  “Darn,” she groused. “I was hoping to score my own hunk like your Gage.”

  If she only knew, Brooklyn thought. He wasn’t hers, no matter how much she wished it were true.

  The Coast Guard pulled away with the injured loaded on board. One of the security guards brought a John Deere Gator with a large bed to collect Gage’s coworkers’ luggage as the crowd dispersed.

  She was happy to see people had loaded onto a boat to remove debris floating in the water. The two crippled vessels would have to be towed, she assumed.

  Camera crews were busy interviewing rescuers and taking notes, probably names. It wouldn’t be long before the footage hit the airways and social media.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Stella dug into her bag and handed Brooklyn a phone. “It’s all set up with your contacts.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I brought you some clothes, too.” She turned in a circle, presumably looking for her luggage. “Oh, there it is.”

  “I’ve reserved the cottage next to mine for you,” she told her. “Before we go, let me introduce you to our special guests.” Brooklyn made the introductions, making sure to use their married names.

  “Please, let me know if there is anything I can do for any of you,” Stella offered. “I’m Brooklyn’s assistant, but I can help you with whatever you need, too.”

  Brooklyn was impressed. She didn’t want to add to Stella’s already-booked schedule. That she offered on her own was commendable.

  Once the men joined them, she led the group up the dock to their golf carts. Layla pulled her aside. “My sister-in-law gifted you with products for you to give the contestants or use for a contest. She owns Harmony!”

  Brooklyn’s mouth dropped open. “No way. I use her products religiously. Melody Colton is your sister-in-law?”

  “Yes. She’s married to Luke’s younger brother Grant.”

  “I wish she would’ve made the trip with you.”

  Layla smiled. “She did, too. She was a little jealous.”

  Brooklyn called Stella over to document Melody’s contact information. She wanted to include Harmony! in advertising materials. Brooklyn was having gift baskets made for all the guests, with particular attention to Gage’s coworkers, who came to her rescue when she needed it. She planned on giving each woman a voucher for a two-week stay on the island at a later date, among various other items. She would add Melody to the list, as well as Kendall Demarchis, Olivia Mylonas, and Taylor Costa for handling Abilene and Austin’s mess.

  Once the others were ready to go, she jumped behind the wheel.

  “Didn’t like my driving?” Gage teased as he climbed in next to her.

  “You need to rest after your near-death experience.” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

  Gage noticed and reached for her. “Babe—”

  She shook her head, afraid she would fall apart if he touched her. “Your bosses,” she croaked. It worked because he settled into his seat.

  “I’m fine.”

  She wiped her face. “I know. But I was so scared when the—”

  “Can I grab a ride with you?” Stella asked.

  Brooklyn was thankful for the interruption. She didn’t want to relive the moment when the boat exploded. “Actually, you’ll need your own to get around.” She glanced at Gage. “I’ll be right back.”

  Brooklyn took Stella to pick up her ride, and by the time she returned, she’d pulled herself together. She led the group of Gage’s coworkers and their wives to the bungalows.

  She stopped and got out. “I’ve reserved units three, four, five, six, and seven for you to use, and they’re all the same.” Stella would be in number two next to Brooklyn’s cottage, within easy reach if she needed her. “They’re unlocked, but the keys are inside. There’s also a map of all the buildings. I thought you might want to spend the day exploring. You have use of all the facilities in the main building, including the pool, tennis courts, and anything else. Just show your key if anyone asks. Also, I’ve kept the names of the special guests from the competitors. I want you to feel free to explore, but if you don’t mind wearing a hat and sunglasses while you’re out, I would appreciate it. I’ve included both inside each bungalow.”

  “We don’t mind at all,” Jade said, and the others agreed.

  “You don’t have to wear them when you’re inside the main house. The women won’t be going there. And speaking of, I’ve made reservations for dinner tonight for the ten of us in the main building.”

  “You don’t have to go to this much trouble for us,” Harlow said. “We know you’re incredibly busy.”

  “Seriously, I could sit on the beach all day and be perfectly happy,” Cassidy insisted.

  “It’s no trouble at all.”

  Gage spoke to his coworkers. “After you get settled, I’ll catch you up on everything.”

  “You can use our cottage,” Brooklyn told him. “I need to head to the contestants’ house and make sure everything is ready.”

  “I don’t want you going without me,” Gage argued.

  “I’ll have Stella with me. Besides, you can’t be with me twenty-four-seven,” she pointed out.

  He looked like he wanted to argue but finally nodded before turning back to the men. “Come to our bungalow in an hour.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Adrenalin was still flowing through Gage’s veins when he retreated to the cabin with a bag of clothes his coworkers brought for him. He needed to shower after his impromptu swim in the ocean. As soon as he closed the door, Brooklyn attacked him.

  “You scared me to death,” she breathed before climbing his body to kiss him. Somehow, he managed to
remove their clothing as he walked her into the bathroom. They didn’t even make it to the shower. He placed her on the counter, stepped between her legs, and sank into her welcoming heat. It wasn’t soft and tender. It was hard and fast and life-affirming. When she clenched around him, it was all he could do to keep from roaring like a rapturous lion.

  When they came back to earth, she held his face between her hands as he rested his forehead against hers.

  “You’re a hero, you know.”

  “No, I’m not,” he scoffed.

  “You risked your life boarding a burning boat. You saved that woman. That’s the definition of a hero.”

  He stopped her praise with a kiss. He did nothing special. It’d been instinct to climb aboard and check for injuries. The woman was in rough shape. He prayed she pulled through.

  A ringtone jingled merrily from the other room. Brooklyn groaned. “Stella brought me a new phone. I’d better answer.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled away, almost whimpering with regret when their bodies separated. “I’m going to shower.”

  She slid off the counter and hurried to the living room. He watched her scurry away, his body reacting predictably to the sight of the naked globes of her buttocks.

  With a sigh, he stepped into the shower and turned on the taps. Water sluiced down him, washing away the smell of the ocean and their fevered lovemaking.

  “Need help washing your back?”

  He spun around to see Brooklyn behind him, wearing a poofy pink shower cap. She looked adorable.

  “What?” She patted it. “I don’t want to have to do my hair again.”

  He jerked her against him, delighting in her amused squeal as he feasted on her lips. It’d been too long since he tasted them, never mind the fact it’d been less than ten minutes ago. After another intense encounter against the shower wall—it was becoming his favorite place in the bungalow—they lathered, rinsed, and dried off. Thanks to his coworkers, he had clothes now. Still, he found himself donning the last shirt Brooklyn purchased for him.

  He swiped his cell off the bedside table when it beeped and read the message from Kaiya. She’d interviewed Joanna Greer and Ruth Long. He punched in her number.