by VK Powell
Emma finished the beef stew she’d ordered and dug through her bag for her wallet.
“Why don’t you let me get this, honey? It would be a pleasure.”
“Thank you very much, Harriett, for everything. You’ve been a big help on this story since we first met. But I do have one more question, if you don’t mind.”
“Fire away.”
“When we talked initially about the history of Stuart, why didn’t you mention Theodore Thompson’s disappearance? It’s been a big story ever since it happened.”
The end of Harriett’s long nose quivered slightly as she cocked her head to one side and grinned. “I don’t have the vaguest notion. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in minutia that I completely overlook the big stuff. I’m really a detail person.”
“I guess that’s easy to do. Thanks again for dinner.”
As Emma started to leave she turned back, her reporter mole in high gear. “And where did you say Hannah went on vacation?”
She shrugged. “It must’ve been another one of her last-minute decisions.”
Crossing the street to her car, Emma recalled page after page of notes she’d taken over the past several days. Hannah’s assistant had told Emma her boss was on vacation, and she’d received the news from Harriett. So why had Harriett referred Emma to the museum earlier to talk to her sister? And just now, she alluded to her sister’s decision to leave town as last minute. Maybe she needed to clarify the assistant’s original statement. Or maybe Harriett was protecting some secret family scandal.
When Harriett exited the diner and steered her pink Mary Kay Cadillac out of town, Emma trailed her at a safe distance.
Chapter Seventeen
Carter argued with herself most of the day, working up the courage to talk with Emma, and now she stood outside her empty cabin wishing she hadn’t come. She was breaking all of her don’t-get-involved rules, and nothing was going right. Note to self: Stick with what works. But how could she apply her old rules to someone who played a different game entirely?
After her talk with Ann, Carter wondered whom she should trust. Maybe a simple conversation could change her belief in Emma’s deceit. Was that even the real issue? Maybe she was afraid of the feelings Emma evoked, afraid of caring too deeply, of commitment. Was she such a coward she wouldn’t even consider the possibility? Carter checked her watch. Where could Emma be at this hour? Was it an omen for her to leave well enough alone?
The last several days had stripped Carter emotionally. She couldn’t concentrate on her work in the park or on her sessions with the kids, which usually reenergized her. When she met Emma, she’d known they would be together, at least temporarily, but their attraction pulled with a force Carter had never experienced. After four days of staying away from her, the chemistry proved too strong and she’d succumbed, but, as usual, life got in the way. The story happened, and things blew apart like a category-four hurricane.
Her internal dialogue continued in spite of attempts at distraction. I care for Emma more than I want to admit. She betrayed you. Did she, or are you just looking for excuses? What if I love her? That’s not possible. Shocked by the thought, Carter stared up at the sky and yelled, “That can’t happen.”
“Carter, who are you talking to?”
Carter spun around, expecting Emma, but instead found Billie Donovan. “Nobody. I just felt like having a rant. It clears the mind sometimes.”
Donovan took Carter’s hand. “You’re still worrying about Ann, aren’t you?”
She felt guilty that her aunt’s situation had momentarily slipped her mind or at least taken a backseat to her feelings for Emma. “Of course I am. I just don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything. I told you I’d take care of it. Why are you here anyway? Are you thinking of confronting Emma again?”
“Well, I—”
“Please don’t. I’ll clear Ann before the little opportunist has a chance to publish a word.”
“I want to know exactly what she told you about Ann. All of it, Billie.”
“Of course.” Donovan slid her arm around Carter’s waist and guided her back to the Jeep. “Why don’t we go to my hotel and sort through the whole story? I’ll pick up my car tomorrow.”
Billie seemed insistent that she didn’t speak with Emma, but why? “I really should be at home with Ann. She’s probably going nuts trying to decide what to do about all this.”
“You know as well as I do Ann had a couple of drinks and went straight to bed. She’s not the least bit worried. After all, she has us to worry for her.”
She allowed Billie to lead her away because she needed to know exactly what Emma had shared about Ann. “I’m still a little upset with you. What you did to Ann wasn’t right.” Carter looked back over her shoulder. Where was Emma? She’d worry about that later—after she’d heard Billie’s side. As a BCI agent, Billie had factual, objective information that left no room for doubt. And right now, Carter needed clarity.
Billie unlocked the door of her hotel room at the Riverside and led Carter to the settee. “Wait here while I fix us a drink. You like vodka and tonic, right?”
“Make it a double. It’s been one of those days.”
She watched Billie prepare their drinks at the mini-bar, her movements efficient and alluring. The woman was a sexual magnet who attracted partners without trying. Their first week of training, they’d formed an instant rapport and teamed up for exercises. At night in their shared dorm room, Billie had undressed in front of Carter, slowly removing each piece of clothing like she was performing a strip tease, taking obvious pleasure in her discomfort. Then Billie had slipped under the covers in her own bed and masturbated to a very vocal orgasm before falling asleep. Carter had found her display the sexiest thing a woman had ever done in her presence. She shifted in her chair, her crotch wet and aching just thinking about it again.
The next week, while still in separate beds, Billie had provided an explicit verbal play-by-play of her self-pleasuring and encouraged Carter to follow her instructions. She’d felt as if they were caressing each other instead of themselves. Carter had gotten off with the slightest touch, having been driven to the edge by Billie’s graphic directions and the crescendo of her moans. The next night, they’d consummated the affair.
In retrospect, all the hands-off foreplay had simply allowed Billie to simulate continued fidelity in her relationship. In the emotional sense, she’d already strayed. When Carter refused to continue the affair until Billie was honest with her partner, Billie protested, but it had been the right thing to do. They’d started up again when Billie became a free agent and Carter drove to Charlottesville for her studies.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Billie sat down next to her on the settee and allowed her thigh to press against Carter’s as she nervously bounced her leg.
“I was remembering when we met and our—”
“You have to admit, we’re good together.” Billie clinked her glass against Carter’s. “And we could be great, if you give us a chance.”
Carter took a sip, and the tart drink rushed down her throat, warming her stomach and spreading heat. This morning’s breakfast and the nightmare that ensued had been over fourteen hours ago. She welcomed the immediate buzz and false courage.
“Do you mind if I get comfortable?”
Carter shook her head and finished her drink in one long gulp. If she wanted to gently interrogate Billie, she’d have to slow down on the drink and keep her wits about her.
“And I’ll fix you another on my way back. Relax.”
When Billie emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing a sheer nightie that barely covered the fullness of her breasts and her black thong. She mixed two more drinks, handed one to Carter, and stretched across the king-size bed. Billie propped herself up on her elbows, and her nearly naked breasts hung eye level in front of Carter on the settee. “Do you ever think about us when we’re apart?”
Carter’s body throbbed at the memorie
s. “Of course I do.”
“Why don’t we start fresh right now?” Billie rimmed the top of her glass with her index finger and sucked it in and out of her mouth. “I want you all the time, Carter. We’re perfect together.” She cupped her sex and moaned a low, painful sound.
Carter watched Billie’s hand move slowly up and down between her legs and grew wetter. “You’re one sexy women, and I’d be a fool not to take you up on your offer—”
“Then why am I hearing a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”
“I just can’t focus on anything but this situation with Ann.” That was partly true, but something else held her back. “You said you’d tell me the truth. I need that, Billie.”
“I’m so sorry you were subjected to any of this, but I assure you I’ll take care of Ann. Now, let me help you relax. You don’t have to do anything.” Billie placed her drink on the bedside table and knelt in front of Carter.
“Tell me what Emma told you about Ann and Cass, and how she led you to Tanner.”
“Please, Carter, let’s forget work for a while. I need you, and you’re strung so tight you’re almost vibrating.”
Part of Carter wanted to resist, but the other part needed relief from the stress and uncertainty of the past few days. When Billie spread Carter’s knees and moved between them, she didn’t object. Billie’s breasts rested on Carter’s thighs and brought more heat to her burning center. Carter squirmed and pushed forward in the seat. Billie pressed against Carter’s chest and slid up until she reached Carter’s mouth, then licked her bottom lip before easing inside.
Carter felt dizzy from the drinks and the closeness of Billie’s body. She should be thinking about what happened today and how to fix it, but her energy was redirected below her waist. Having sex with Billie wouldn’t solve anything, but she’d definitely feel better and maybe even forget about Emma.
“Billie, please.” What was she pleading for? The information to prove Emma wasn’t a liar, the quick release her body desperately needed, or the intimacy she’d felt with Emma?
“Let me take care of you. Trust me, baby. Everything will be better tomorrow.” Billie stood and pulled Carter against her. She cupped Carter’s butt and rubbed their pelvises together. “Come here.”
Carter’s resistance fell away, and she allowed Billie to pull her onto the bed. She really wanted to be taken care of tonight, loved, and made to feel special.
“Do you need a show or are you ready for me?” Billie slowly pushed the thin straps off her shoulders and eased the negligée over her head, leaving only her thong.
The leisurely reveal of silky alabaster skin mesmerized Carter. Billie lay next to her and intertwined their legs, resting her crotch against Carter’s thigh. Carter felt the wet sheer fabric of Billie’s thong dampen a spot on the leg of her jeans as Billie rocked against her.
“Billie?” Billie’s pace quickened, and Carter knew from past experience it wouldn’t be long until she was lost in her own need, which would’ve normally been fine, but not tonight. Carter’s emotional needs were stronger than her sexual ones. “Billie?” Next, Billie would need stimulation from Carter, just before she climaxed.
“Shhh.” Billie kissed the side of Carter’s face and pulled one of Carter’s hands between her legs. “Right there. Make me come.”
Carter felt detached lying beside Billie’s preorgasmic body, giving commentary like an observer. She was physically aroused by Billie’s responses but emotionally unengaged. This whole encounter wasn’t about her at all. Had any of her previous sexual partners felt as used as she did right now? She didn’t want this any more. Carter rolled away.
“No!” Billie reached for Carter. “Please stay.”
She’d been about to betray Emma and herself. The thought was a splash of ice water, bringing her back from an alcohol-and-hormone-induced haze. Her heart and body ached with longing so intense she involuntarily shivered.
“What’s wrong? I’m hurting here.”
“So am I, but for entirely different reasons.” She stood and straightened her clothes
Billie’s breathing was still quick and raspy as she rose and started toward Carter with the look of a hungry predator.
Carter chose her words carefully. She couldn’t afford to alienate Billie until Ann was cleared. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry if I misled you.”
“I don’t understand. You’ve never turned down sex.”
“There’s more at stake now.” And it wasn’t just Ann’s situation. Billie had agreed to answer her questions about Emma’s part in it but then reneged. Carter had let a curvaceous body and a tug on her waistband distract her. But Billie had helped her realize she had deeper feelings for Emma. Carter owed Billie for that, and she could only have learned it this way—a stark juxtaposition of her former life with what she wanted now.
“Will you at least stay with me tonight?”
“I can’t. I’ll come by in the morning and take you to get your car.”
*
“Where the hell are you going, Harriett Smoltz?” Emma had followed her for miles outside the town limits of Stuart and into the next county. She killed her headlights, parked next to a stand of Leland cypress, and watched Harriett’s bright-pink vehicle turn into the Gentle Breeze Nursing Home. What was she doing here so late at night? Visiting hours probably ended at sunset in a place like this.
Harriett pulled close to the black wrought-iron gates and punched a code into the security pad. She’d obviously been here before. Maybe she volunteered to work evenings so it wouldn’t interfere with her day job. Perhaps she was visiting someone who’d taken a sudden turn.
Whatever Harriett’s motivation, Emma didn’t have time to find out tonight. Rocky Mount and her interview with Clem Stevens were in the opposite direction. She’d called the superstore earlier to check his work schedule but received a sermon on employee privacy from a grumpy man.
While she drove, Emma replayed the scene in the sheriff’s office earlier and the pained and disappointed looks she’d received from Ann and Carter. She brushed tears from her eyes when the road blurred. She’d thought she and Carter had a connection, something real. How could Carter give up on her so easily? At least Ann had been willing to listen, but Carter had completely shut down.
What was Donovan’s hold on Carter? Was it just sex, or did their affair mean more? How could Carter trust a woman who was such an obvious fraud—her hair color came out of a bottle, her perky boobs were silicone bags, and she used her looks to manipulate men and women. Emma couldn’t understand the attraction. She wanted to believe it didn’t compare to her connection with Carter, but so far she’d been proved wrong.
The dark road to Rocky Mount loomed ahead, and Emma wished for more traffic along the deserted stretch. She didn’t want a repeat of her drive to Wally’s. The fear of that night shivered through her. Thinking about her would-be killer wasn’t a good desolate-road pastime, so she pressed her foot closer to the carburetor and hummed an upbeat country song.
A boring hour later, Emma pulled up to the superstore, a huge warehouse that looked more like a storage barn than an actual store. The thrill of chasing the big lead pulsed through her when she grabbed her notepad and considered what Clem Stevens might know about the murder. A man wearing blue khaki pants and a lighter blue shirt indicative of the store’s staff stood outside the back door smoking. She put on her best bubba-busting smile and imitated a Donovan sashay.
“Clem ain’t here.” The man stroked his hand through imaginary hair and grinned a toothless smile.
“Guess I talked to you earlier?”
He nodded and blew a long drag of smoke away from her, but the wind brought it back.
“I’ve driven a long way. Can you at least tell me when he will be here?”
“I ain’t supposed to give out that kind of information.”
“Yes, I appreciate you could get in trouble, but you have my word, I won’t tell. It’s very important I speak to him.”
&nbs
p; “He in some kind of trouble? I don’t want to stitch him up. He’s a standup guy.”
“Not at all. I swear.” She dug inside her messenger bag. “I’ll pay.”
“Put your money away. If you’re that desperate, it must be important.” He nodded toward the back door, and Emma followed him into a small snack room. He walked to a coffee machine that looked like it had been in operation since coffee was first ground. “Wanna cup?”
She’d been drowsy on the road and still had a long drive back to the park. “Sure. Let me.” She dropped coins into the machine, and they rattled and clanked like a pinball game. When she pressed the selection button, she didn’t really expect to get anything, but a cup fell, followed by a hot, inky stream of coffee.
“Ain’t as bad as it looks. Fake cream and real sugar.” He shoved a square ice-cream carton toward her.
“I’m good, thanks.” She bought him a cup, and they sat down at the small table in front of a snack dispenser. The room smelled of cigarettes, reheated food, and stale garbage. She couldn’t wait to run back outside and take a deep breath, but she needed this man’s help. She took a sip of coffee and almost gagged as the strong, cutting flavor coated and stuck to her tongue. When she could speak again, she said, “I’m Emma, by the way.”
He nodded but didn’t reciprocate. “Truth of the matter is, Clem don’t even work here anymore. He left about ten days ago. He didn’t leave a forwarding address or phone number. Hell, he didn’t even come back to get his paycheck on Friday.”
“Do you know why he left?” She’d never run into so many dead ends writing a story. Maybe Carter was right, and she wasn’t supposed to tell this one.
“No, ma’am. Talk to Sissy Brown over in maintenance. She and Clem was pretty tight for a while. If anybody knows, it’d be Sissy.”
“Thank you so much,” Emma said. “Sorry. I didn’t get your name.”
“Let’s leave it at that. If you’re asked, you don’t know who told you.”
