The Sex On Beach Book Club

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The Sex On Beach Book Club Page 6

by Jennifer Apodaca


  Wes was at her stove, whistling a tune as he lifted two sandwiches from a flat skillet. He picked up the plates. “Good timing.”

  In her bare feet, she walked up to him. “Grilled cheese?”

  “Grilled ham and cheese. With potato chips and apple slices. Take these to the table.” He handed the plates to her.

  Her stomach rumbled loudly. She took the plates and went to the table at the end of the kitchen.

  Wes opened the freezer and got out two bottles of beer, then followed her to the table. She sat down and said, “Guess you like your beer cold.”

  He took a seat next to her, then opened one bottle and handed it to her.

  She took a drink and had to admit that it tasted icy and perfect. “Thanks.”

  As he opened his bottle, he asked, “Did you put antiseptic on your elbow?”

  Holly bit into her sandwich. It tasted almost as good as the beer. “No. It’s just a scratch. I’m going to need the names and contact information for all the members of your book club.” She told him the preliminary research she’d done on Cullen.

  Wes appeared thoughtful as he chewed an apple slice. “I have a copy of the list I gave to the police with me. But wouldn’t Cullen have recognized someone he swindled?”

  She shrugged. “Depends. He could have worked with a partner so he might not have met all the victims in person. The woman could have changed her looks. Or he did recognize her and thought she didn’t recognize him. Or he just didn’t care. There are numerous possibilities.” She had another theory, a simpler one. “It’s also possible that the murder is not tied to his past crime, but one of the women in the book club got pissed off enough to kill him after he dumped her.”

  Wes finished his sandwich and pushed his plate back. “That’s possible. But how did they get into my store?”

  “Either Cullen or the killer had a key and the alarm code. They’re not that hard to get. They could have picked the lock, but it’s easier to steal a key, or in Cullen’s case, talk one of your employees into making him a copy.”

  He shook his head. “Kelly and Jodi wouldn’t do that.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you say they’re young? In college? Wes, they didn’t betray you, they fell for Cullen’s charm. And when we talk to them once they get back, they’ll tell us.”

  He pulled his mouth tight. “You seem so sure.”

  “I am. But I could be wrong. I’m more concerned with why someone wanted to kill Cullen in your bookstore then how they got in there.” She looked down at her empty beer bottle, trying to see it. “It could have been sheer opportunity. They knew they’d be alone with Cullen, late at night, no one would likely hear the shots. But they reset the alarm and locked the bookstore.” That had been swirling in her brain all day.

  Wes sat up straight. “You’re saying it’s personal?”

  Holly didn’t know yet. “I’m saying it’s something to keep in mind. Are you sure you and Cullen didn’t both date the same woman?”

  “Positive.”

  She stared at him. “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I haven’t dated anybody in a while.”

  She shut her mouth before she asked him why not. She hadn’t dated much because she’d been busy with work. She moved on. “It could have been simple opportunity, but then we’re dealing with someone who kept their wits about them after committing murder.” Holly stood up, collected the plates, and went into the kitchen to load them in the dishwasher. “Let’s see the list of the book club members. We’ll start with the ones that Cullen dated, the ones you know of, anyway. And we’ll talk to your clerks.”

  Wes stood, pulled a sheet of paper from his front jeans pocket. “The first five names are the women Cullen dated. The rest don’t seem to be connected to him at all.”

  Holly closed the dishwasher and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Good. There’s a chance one of them is the murderer and we will solve this quickly.”

  Wes gathered up the beer bottles and walked toward her. Holly opened the door beneath the sink where she kept the trash. Wes dumped the bottles in, then stood up. He was inches from her. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  His green eyes had hard points of yellow, and he leaned slightly toward her. Needing her answer. Needing something from her. Something she might not be able to give him. That caused her stomach to tighten, her shoulders and neck to tense. “That you’re not the killer? Yes, I believe you.” She kept her voice cool. “The double fee you’re paying me is very convincing.” She wanted him to know she was all about work. Money. Tangible success. Solving cases. Those were the things that made sense to her, where she could understand what was expected from her and provide them.

  He closed his eyes for a brief second, then opened them. “You’re telling me that you follow the money?”

  She hated this. There was some underlying emotion or need in his question. But she couldn’t grasp it and didn’t want to. How was it that she’d known him for a day and a half and already the usually thick, bold black lines that kept her life clean from emotional issues were blurring? “I have bills to pay, Brockman. Most people do.”

  She turned away, grabbed a bottle of dish soap to wash the pan he’d used to grill the sandwiches. All she had wanted was a night, or even a couple nights, of sex. Uncomplicated sex. Sure, she liked a man’s arms around her, liked the slide of his body pressed up against hers. The scent of a man when his skin was hot with desire and slick with sweat. Sex was about pleasure and maybe a little comfort, where no one got hurt.

  She could have had that with Wes, she was pretty sure, if they hadn’t found a murdered body in his bookstore. The shock and trauma seemed to have ripped away a cool layer from Wes, the layer that projected easy playboy charm. Now he was more exposed, vulnerable. She stuck the pan under the stream of water to rinse the soap off and refused to feel bad for telling him the truth. She did work for money.

  The fact that she didn’t believe he had killed Cullen had nothing to do with money and everything to do with her observations mixed with instinct. Wes had clearly wanted Holly to stay with him last night, and that led her to believe he had not set up a plot to lure Cullen to his bookstore to murder him.

  Wes wasn’t stupid, she knew that for sure. He wouldn’t have killed Cullen in his own locked bookstore. Or if he had, he’d probably have called the cops right away and claimed Cullen broke in and the murder was self-defense. Plus, she had been with Wes when they found the body. He’d been solely focused on her until he realized the door to the meeting room was shut. So many little things…

  Yeah. She believed in him but she wasn’t going to make a big thing out of it. It was business.

  Wes took the pan from under the stream of running water. “It’s rinsed.” He picked up the dish towel she had set down and dried the pan.

  Holly realized she had stood there staring out the small window into the black night. Shutting off the water, she took the dried pan from Wes and put it away. Then she went back to the counter to pick up the list and study it.

  Bridget O’Hara

  Nora Jacobson

  Maggie Partlow

  Helene Essex

  Tanya Shaker

  Seeing Tanya’s name, she said, “I followed Tanya all the way home last night and saw her go into the house. I waited around for twenty minutes and saw the living room light go out, and a light go on in the back of the house. My sense was that she was in for the night, but we’ll talk to her again. Maybe she knows what Cullen was doing at the bookstore after she left him.” She was really irritated that she hadn’t asked Tanya that after their scuffle earlier.

  Wes folded the towel. “Is that why you offered to help find her a job? Befriending her so she’ll confide in you?”

  Holly glanced up. “I would have if I had thought of it.”

  Wes cracked a grin.

  She tried to ignore the warmth his smile sparked inside her and looked down at the list. “Nora is the one who said the anthology was about more
than sex…something about the relationship building during mysterious circumstances.”

  “That’s her, and the two women sitting by her were Maggie and Helene. The three of them have recently bonded.”

  “Like the Dumped By Cullen club?” She remembered their reaction to Cullen in the book club meeting.

  “That’d be my guess. Bridget, the first one on the list and the first one I realized Cullen was dating, she talks to anyone. She doesn’t seem to be part of the Helene/Nora/Maggie clique.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to Tanya when she calls. First thing in the morning I’ll track down Helene and I’ll work backwards. I’ll need to talk to your two clerks, as well.” Holly turned to walk out of the kitchen and made a left into her home office. She set the list down on her desk, then stepped back.

  And bumped into Wes’s chest. He put his arms around her, lowered his face to her nearly dry hair, and inhaled. “I’ve wanted to do this all night. You look hot, Holly. Sexy. Shorts that reveal your long legs, no bra beneath the top.”

  He changed so suddenly, she could barely get her breath. “You’re my client now. I—”

  “Shut up.” He moved his mouth down over her ear, into the curve of her neck. His mouth was warm, his breath hot. Her nerve endings sizzled, her body felt soft and tight with need at the same time. She should stop this. “Wes—”

  He slid one hand down her side, cupped her hip, and pulled her back into his groin to feel his hard dick straining against his pants. “I’m not going to listen to logic. Not tonight.” He slid one thin strap down her arm.

  It was hard to think with his mouth moving over her shoulder and his hard dick pressing into her backside. So she drew her line. “This is just sex.”

  “Oh yeah. Sex. Making love. Screwing. Call it whatever you want.” He moved his left hand to slide her ribbed cotton top over her nipple. His right hand went down to her thigh. “Just as long as I get to do this.” His fingers skimmed up her thigh, under her shorts, under the elastic of her panties.

  Holly wasn’t worrying about word choices anymore. She leaned back, farther into him, giving him better access. Turning her head, she reached up to bring his mouth to hers. He tasted like beer and pure wet heat. She wanted more instantly, and slid her tongue over his, then deeper to taste all of him.

  Wes made a noise, then slid his finger deeper until he plunged inside of her. He lifted his head, watched her as he stroked her.

  A loud knock startled both of them.

  Wes stilled, but kept his finger inside of her. “Expecting someone? Now is not a good time.”

  “I don’t know who it could be. Unless…” She was going to kill them. Shoot them with her gun. Then kick them.

  He pulled her tighter against his chest and whispered into her ear, “Stay quiet, they’ll go away.” He shoved her shorts and panties farther over to slide in a second finger.

  She nearly came right then. Except that a dead man yelled out, “Hey! Holly, you in there? We got pizza.”

  “Fuck,” Wes snarled in her ear. “Boyfriends?”

  She put her hand on his wrist, forcing his hand out, and rearranged her panties and shorts. She couldn’t do anything about her erect nipples. She took a step then turned around. “Worse, brothers,” she answered, and immediately saw that Wes had a bigger problem than she did.

  Much bigger. His erection shoved against the front of his jeans. If her soon-to-be-dead brothers weren’t standing at the door—God, she was going to kick both their asses. “Go in the kitchen, or bedroom, I’ll get rid of them.”

  Wes looked at her like she’d grown a third boob. “No.”

  She looked down. “Uh, Wes…”

  His expression turned pained. “Seriously, Holly, do you think I don’t know that I’m sporting a massive boner? So how many brothers? And no,” he said when she opened her mouth. “I won’t hide like a teenaged horn dog.”

  “Okay.” She wasn’t sure what to make of that. A small part of her was pleased, but most of her was sexually turned on and ready to kill her stupid brothers. “Two brothers,” she added, and walked to the door as Seth pounded again.

  Holly yanked open the door. “Get lost. I’m busy.”

  Seth put his hands on her shoulders and walked her backwards to unblock the door while Joe carried in a large pizza box. Seth said, “We heard about the murder.” He stopped short five feet into her living room.

  Joe stood next to him with the pizza box.

  Holly glared at their backs. “Leave. Now. Or I’m getting my gun.”

  Joe turned around and leveled his blue gaze on her. “Date?”

  “Out!”

  Seth glanced back over his shoulder. “Dad’s worried about you, AP. He’s having a bad day, so Joe and I said we’d check on you.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “You’re a lying sack of dog shit, Seth. Dad’s on a fishing trip with three buddies, and I talked to him on the phone twice.”

  Seth grinned. “He could still be worried. Maybe I talked to him on the phone, too.”

  Joe turned back to Wes. “Are you staying for pizza? I’m Joe, Holly’s brother. This is Seth.” He walked by Wes into the kitchen.

  Wes turned and followed Joe. Holly heard him introduce himself but she was busy trying to think of where she could bury Seth and Joe’s bodies.

  “Might want to close the door, Hol. Probably too late to put on a bra.” Seth went into the kitchen.

  Holly slammed the door. Hard.

  The next morning Wes arrived at Holly’s condo around ten A.M. Holly opened the door wearing a pair of low-cut jeans and a black tank top. Her hair was scooped up on her head, making his hand itch to let it down. He wanted to touch her everywhere. Sexual frustration was screwing with his concentration. Her brothers had made damn sure he left before they had last night.

  Without waiting for her invitation, he stepped in, pulled her to him, and kissed her. “Good morning.” He looked down at her silver blue eyes.

  “If you’re done playing around, we have work to do.”

  He grinned. “Cranky in the mornings, are we? I didn’t notice it when your tongue was in my mouth.”

  Holly pushed him away, shut the door, and stalked over to her computer. “My brothers didn’t leave until one A.M. I’m too tired to figure out the best way to kill them. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

  Wes moved up behind her. “Holly, they were just concerned about you. In case I turned out to be a deranged killer who offs people in my bookstore.”

  She lifted a cup of coffee off her desk and sank into her chair. “That’s what pisses me off. I don’t need bodyguards or baby-sitters.”

  “Can’t really blame them. Monty and I went by the bookstore this morning to make arrangements to have it cleaned.” His gut tightened in anger. Was Cullen’s murder connected to his past?

  Holly said, “There are special cleaners who handle crime scene cleanup.”

  He nodded. “I know. They’ll be there later today. I cleared it with your friend, Detective Bulldog. I’m going to keep the store closed at least until next week.” Since he didn’t know what was going on, he had to protect his customers.

  She lifted her blue gaze. “You said you went to your bookstore with Monty? Who’s that?”

  Grinning, he said, “The dog. Remember? The one you rescued from under my deck?” He certainly did. He’d had the wicked pleasure of watching her curvy ass as she crawled under his deck.

  She furrowed her forehead. “Monty? What kind of weenie name is Monty?” Then she widened her eyes. “Where is the dog? He’s not in your car, is he?”

  “Monty is with my neighbor until I get home.” Fixing a stern look on his face, he added, “Monty is not a weenie name. Take that back. You don’t go insulting a man’s dog.”

  Lifting her brows, she said, “If you can’t take the insults, don’t give your dog a weenie name. Duke is a good name. Or maybe Boss. Or Sabbath. Or Rock. Those are tough names.”

  He leaned down, putting his face right up to hers. “Bu
t you didn’t want the dog, remember? Or any animals.” He lifted his head to crane his neck in an exaggerated attempt to look around her condo. “Hell, I don’t even see a fish or a hamster.”

  “What do I look like, book boy, a pet store owner? I’m a PI. I work. I can’t worry about feeding a stupid fish.”

  With his nose an inch from hers, he said, “Commitment phobia?” He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know everything about her. What had formed and cemented the chip on her shoulder? What made her need to be so tough? And yet he’d had glimpses of Holly’s softer side. She’d cut Tanya some slack, and she’d helped rescue Monty. Then pushed Monty away, when Wes had practically felt her longing to hold and play with the puppy.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Been watching too much Dr. Phil, Brockman? Newsflash, women don’t find pop psychobabble sexy.”

  He put his hand on her thigh. “You find me sexy. Want me to prove it?”

  She grabbed his wrist and moved his hand. “You’re paying me to work.” She turned and studied her computer screen.

  Wes knew he was getting to her. But she was right, he had to focus on finding out who killed Cullen in his bookstore and why. He turned to look at her computer monitor. “What’s this?”

  She sipped some of her coffee. “Some asshole’s Web site. He goes by the name The O’Man. He does podcasts on Thursday and Sunday on his site. Looks like he hasn’t gotten the podcast up for today, since it’s Thursday and I don’t see a new one posted.”

  Wes looked at the front page, which read “Women Are Easy If You Have The Right Tool.” He shifted his gaze to Holly. “Any particular reason you’re reading this guy’s blog? Is it connected to Cullen’s murder?”

  A guilty little grin slid over her mouth. “No, nothing to do with the case. I was taking care of a little personal business before getting to work.”

  Wasn’t this interesting. “You have personal business with this blog?”

  “It’s my brothers’ fault. They sent me this blog to annoy me, and now I’m curious who this guy is. But before checking this Web site this morning, I spent a few minutes signing my brothers up for e-mail newsletters from Web sites on how to get in touch with your feminine side, an erectile dysfunction support group, freedom from the closet, transvestite tips, and a few other fun sites. Then because Joe and Seth are the ones that showed me The O’Man Web site, I went on to see if I could find any clues to The O’Man’s identity.”

 

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