Gavin moves my panties aside and dips his tongue into my pussy. The shock of pleasure makes me cry out, and my thighs fall further apart. He holds one down gently while pulling my panties the rest of the way to the side to expose me to him completely. The tip of his tongue traces me patiently, rediscovering me at the same time it savors every familiar dip and curve. Two fingers slip inside me, pressing past the tightness that formed after so long without him. I gasp, drawing in a shuddering breath as his mouth settles over my clit.
It only takes a few seconds of his tongue swirling across my sensitive tissue and gentle suction from his lips for almost unbearable pressure to form through my body. My hips and thighs shake as tingling moves from the tips of my toes up my legs and through my chest.
I reach down for Gavin's hand and hold it tightly, gasping as pleasure rolls through me. Finally, my back arches, and my climax threatens to make me come apart. He presses his fingers deep inside me and holds them there so I can ride the pressure as I clench and tremble around him, my whole body convulsing in overwhelming pleasure.
Gavin rises up and kisses me languidly until I've come down from my peak and relaxed. I smile when he pulls his lips away from mine and rests his forehead against me.
"I'm still going to look for the tunnels," I whisper.
Gavin laughs and gives me another quick kiss. "I think I'm going to need more clothes."
I scan the charcoal pants and blue button-down he's wearing. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows, so at least that's something. He's not wandering around in a suit every day anymore. But this isn't going to work for a subterranean expedition.
"We'll swing by the shop on the way."
Chapter Forty-One
Gavin
"You're getting spiderwebs on my desk."
Scarlett looks like she might go over the desk and strangle the officer. Or at least rub some of the dirt and other webs clinging to her all over his severely pressed uniform.
"What is wrong with you, Jimmy? Aren't you listening to a single word I'm saying?" she asks.
"Officer…" he starts, and she lets out an exasperated cry, slamming her hands on the desk, so coffee hops out of his freshly filled mug.
"Would that help? If I call you Officer Boones, would you be willing to listen to me?" she snaps.
"Maybe," he says.
"Officer Boones. I need to know when that freezer was installed in the house on Candlewood."
"That information is pertaining to a current investigation, and we've chosen not to release it in the event it is sensitive and compromises the case," he says in a wooden tone.
"What case?" I ask. "You're barely doing anything. You sent some DNA out and did a cursory search of the area. You aren't even considering that the notes Scarlett received might have anything to do with it, even when she found her phone destroyed."
"I don't appreciate the two of you questioning my ability to do my job," the officer says.
"And I don't appreciate you dismissing me when I'm trying to tell you these things that are happening are connected," Scarlett growls.
"I might not have investigated many murders in my time, but I know what I'm doing," Jimmy tells her.
"You haven't investigated any murders in your time. There hasn't been a murder in Shadow Creek in fifty years. Well, except for whoever it is who was lying in that freezer. He's a bit of a surprise that's going to throw off all the crime statistics. You don't even know who he is. How do you think you're going to figure out what happened to him?"
"We will," he insists forcefully.
"And if you would just crawl down off that high horse of yours and listen to what I have to tell you, it might be much sooner. Gavin and I found the access point to another system of tunnels leading from the Candlewood house. We didn't get all the way down them, but we found off-shoots that I'm sure lead to…"
"Scarlett, we have leads we're following. We know when the freezer was installed and are looking into who arranged for it. I don't know what you think you found down there, but it's irrelevant. Stay out of there, and don't do anything else to interfere with the investigation, or I might have to arrest you. And I really don't want to do that," Jimmy says.
"Spare me," Scarlett practically spits. "You've wanted to get back at me since high school. You'd love to be able to toss me in jail now for trying to help you do your job."
I rest a hand on her arm and slide it down, taking her hand in mine. "Come on, Scarlett. There's no point in trying to talk to him. Let's just go home and get you in a shower. You need some rest."
"And don't try to sneak any more paperwork out with you," Jimmy warns.
Scarlett pulls her shirt up almost to the point where it reveals her bra and spins around in a circle, revealing her Cupcake belly in all its glory and proving she isn't smuggling files this time.
"Your self-control never ceases to impress me," I comment as we walk out of the station.
"That was self-control," she argues. "I'm not going home, by the way."
"You should rest," I tell her.
"I need to get to the carnival grounds. I want to see the house."
"It's not the real house. It's a recreation, remember?" I say.
"Yes, and I want to know just how faithful a recreation it is."
"You mean you want to know if you can find the tunnels."
"If they happen to present themselves to me, then that would be great," she nods.
"Like how the entrance in the Candlewood house presented itself?" I ask.
"I didn't like the tile in that section of the floor, anyway," she says. "Don't you agree with me now? All of this can't just be a coincidence. Harlan McVey kept owning those two houses a secret for a reason, and I can't help but think that reason has a strong connection to the body in the freezer. The body that just happens to have the ID of a man who seems very friendly with his daughter."
I nod. "It does seem like there's a connection. But you were warned to stay out of the tunnels and away from the investigation."
"And I was also warned not to drink and drive, and not to open my door to repairmen without first seeing appropriate credentials. I've never done either of those," she says.
"What's your point?" I ask.
"Two out of three ain't bad. Let's go."
She trots off toward the car, and I shake my head as I follow. I can't argue with her logic.
Shadowy images of the summer carnivals of decades ago seem to appear across the grounds as we walk out onto them. It's like I'm experiencing memories I don't actually have but have been put into my head by the days of poring over the pictures and printouts. It creates an eerie feeling that wasn't even here during the Halloween festivities last October. I'm waiting for the breeze to carry in the smell of cotton candy or to hear the sound of water splashing and laughter.
Scarlett suddenly stops and looks at me.
"So, before we proceed, I do feel compelled to tell you we are, technically, trespassing. I think. This area is really only supposed to be used during events," she says.
"I figured," I shrug.
"Okay. Just practicing responsible co-parenting. If I'm going to be bringing your child into a potentially illegal situation, you should at least have advance notice."
I laugh and run my hand over her belly. Even in the short couple of weeks I've been back in Shadow Creek, it's gotten bigger. This little one is getting stronger every day, and I can't wait to hold her in my arms. I just hope when that time comes, all of this is behind us.
"Greatly appreciated." We start across the open patch of sun-bleached grass toward the house looming in the distance. The two other houses that were there last year are gone. "You went through the houses last year, right?"
"Yes. All three of them," she tells me.
"What did you notice about the two that aren't there?" I ask.
"You know, now that you point it out, I do remember thinking they seemed… flimsier. Like they were just pieced together for the season. That one was much more solid an
d real. It felt like an actual house, and I wondered if someone was planning on moving in and had just allowed the company to use it because it was in the right spot," she says.
"The company that does the Halloween haunts. They've been here for a long time?" I ask.
"There have been some haunted attractions and things at least since I was in high school. But they've always changed year to year and were much more intense last year."
"But it's the same company?"
"As far as I know, yeah. I've never been chummy with any of them or anything. They mostly just show up, set everything up, and then when the season's over, they pack up and head on. Why?" she asks.
"I'm just thinking about the summer carnival. The same family-owned company ran that carnival for generations. More than one hundred years. Then, they just… stop? That easily? But not too long later, another group shows up and starts doing Halloween attractions? Carny families are usually territorial. They don't just walk away from a good spot, and they don't take kindly to others coming in on a good thing they found."
"Are you allowed to say that these days?" she asks.
"Say what?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Carny," she says.
"Traveling entertainment families?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. I was just checking. Do you think it could be the same family? Or at least some of the same people?"
"I'm not sure." We take a few more steps, and I grab her arm to stop her when I hear voices ahead of us. "There's someone behind the house."
We run to the side of the house and stand close to it, creeping along so we can get to the corner and peer around. I feel ridiculous, but there's no way I'm letting Scarlett do it by herself, and she's not going to walk away from this. Two men stand a few feet from the back of the house, close enough to each other to make their conversation seem threatening. The man with his back to us is smaller, and I immediately know him.
"It's Jared," I murmur to Scarlett in front of me.
She nods. "The man he's talking to is Silver… no, Sterling Jones. He's the manager of the company that runs the haunted attractions."
"I've read that name before," I muse. It circulates through my mind a few times before settling on where I've seen it. "It was in the article about Matthew Branson going missing. Remember? One of the other workers was talking about it and mentioned that Sterling was upset about the whole situation. That has to be him."
"I guess that answers our question about whether it's the same company," she whispers.
"I told you to stay away from here," Sterling growls at Jared, turning our attention back to the confrontation. "You don't belong here."
"Yes, I do. You know that as well as I do. Why would you do all this if you didn't want me here?" Jared asks.
"This isn't about you," the older man tells him, his voice dropping slightly.
"How can it not be about me? This is all about me. It's about my whole life. Everything I never knew. Everything you kept from me," Jared snaps back angrily.
"What could he mean by that?" Scarlett whispers, glancing over her shoulder at me.
I shake my head.
"You weren't supposed to ever find out," Sterling says. "What good does it do?"
"What good does it do for me to not know? You think I should just go through my life having no idea who I am or what happened to my family? And what about Harlan? He deserved to enjoy his money, pushing people around, and never having to face up to what he did?"
"Harlan will have to answer for what happened," Sterling assures him.
"And this?" Jared asks, pulling papers out of his pocket and shoving them toward the older man.
"Where did you get that?" Sterling asks, sounding nervous.
"It doesn't matter." He shoves the papers back in his pocket. "I had to figure this out on my own. I can do the rest."
Jared starts to turn, and I pull on Scarlett until she starts running with me. The last words I hear as we plunge into the corn to get out of sight makes my blood run cold.
"You leave her out of this, Jared. She didn't know."
We stop a few yards into the corn and stand still, not wanting to rustle any of the stalks. Scarlett reaches into her pocket and carefully pulls out her phone.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Texting Sylvia to find out how she feels about invading her boyfriend's privacy."
Chapter Forty-Two
Gavin
"Show me the picture of the McVey family in the house again," Scarlett says.
She's pacing through the living room, tapping her phone in her palm as she waits for Sylvia to respond. Scarlett asked her to find out what the papers in Jared's pocket are, and the longer it takes for her to respond, the more nervous both of us get.
I push the picture across the table toward her, and she snatches it up, staring at it with tense eyes and a set jaw. She compares the picture to another on the table.
"Do you see something?" I ask.
She points at the picture, indicating a tall, thin man standing behind Jane, the matriarch of the McVey family.
"William McVey," she says.
"Harlan's younger brother," I nod. “Their parents died when they were fairly young, and the two brothers stayed very close, even though Harlan inherited everything. He took care of his brother and helped him with his businesses."
"Where is he now?" she asks.
"I can only assume he's the one running Harlan's business affairs while he's traveling the world," I offer.
"But he didn't know to show up at the house and establish residency, so it didn't get sold?" she asks.
"Maybe he didn't know about it. Harlan might not have wanted his baby brother knowing about his chilly houseguest," I point out.
She shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense. Why would he know the deadline is coming, know if the house goes up for sale by the town someone is eventually going to find the body, and still sail off around the world?"
"Harlan isn't exactly known for being realistic. He believes he is above everyone and everything. It's possible he believed he did such a good job covering up the tunnels; no one would find them. Then eventually he'd come back from his tour and buy the house back," I offer.
"Because enough money can buy anything," she rolls her eyes. "I guess he's never known what it's like to have to budget for the electric bill. He wouldn't notice if it was strangely high because of the power necessary to run a walk-in freezer."
She pauses, and her eyes widen slightly. "Wait. What did you just say?"
"That, um, Harlan would come back from his tour and buy the house back?" I try.
She shakes her head. "No. Before that. At the beginning. You said Harlan isn't exactly known for being realistic. Isn't. Isn't. Think about what Jared said when he was talking to Sterling. He asked if Harlan deserved living a good life. With an -ed. He was talking about him in the past tense."
"I didn't notice that. Maybe it was just a figure of speech. He was obviously talking about something he did a long time ago. That could be why he talked about him like he was in the past," I point out.
"Or Harlan could have let the house on Candlewood go over to ownership by the town because he's not actually sailing around the world. Perhaps he hopped a boat on the River Styx instead."
Her phone buzzes, and she jumps slightly, then looks down at it. She licks her lips. "And I might have just found out why."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"I'm not completely sure. But I need to get to the library. Are you still hanging out with Beck tonight?"
"That was the plan, but if you need me…"
"No. That's fine. I think it will be good for you to see him. I'll let you know if I find anything." She comes and stands on her toes to give me a kiss, then rushes out of the house.
I watch her disappear down the driveway before it occurs to me; she didn't show me what was on her phone.
Four hours later, Scarlett has texted me to let me know she is with Sylvia and Betsy. I'm out with
Beck, cheering along with what seems like a good portion of the population of Shadow Creek as we watch a baseball game at the bar. He pops another handful of fries into his mouth and chases it down with a swig of beer.
"So, what's going on with you and Scarlett?" he asks. I stare at him, and he shrugs. "What? Everybody wants to know, and Ruby and Scarlett don't know each other well enough for her to feel comfortable asking her. So, it's up to me. Time for some fucking girl talk. What's going on with the two of you?"
I laugh. "Way to add some interest to the seventh-inning stretch."
"I'm sorry. Did you want to sing?" he asks.
"I'll pass. Well, obviously, she's pregnant. So, that's one thing going on between us. Honestly, other than that, I don't know. We haven't talked about it. There's been a lot happening, and we haven't sat down and had a conversation about what we are or what we're going to be."
"What do you want to be? Have you thought about it?" he asks.
"Of course, I have. I've thought about her every day since I first saw her. You know me. You know my track record with women. But this is different. Scarlett is different. And not just because of the baby. I came back here with every intention of trying to find a way for the two of us to work out. But I don't want to pressure her, and neither of us know what exactly it's going to mean for us to have a life together. Does she move to Richmond? Do I move to Shadow Creek? Do we pick a spot in the middle and just isolate the hell out of both of us?" I ask.
He takes a long swig of his beer, nodding and smiling as if he completely understands. "It's not always easy when life throws you for a loop like this, but you'll know the right decision. It might not seem like it at this very second, but when it comes right down to it and you have to make the choice, you'll know what's right for you."
We lift our pint glasses toward each other and sip down the beer. Beck barely has his down his throat before letting out a boisterous cheer for the play that just happened. I miss it as I reach into my pocket to take out my phone that just alerted me to a new message.
Baby and the Billionaire Page 24