by Combs, Sasha
Floundering Adrift
Book Two of the Detective Linda Gables Series
Sasha Combs
Copyright © 2012 Lori Turner
Floundering Adrift
Sasha Combs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2012 Lori Turner
Floundering Adrift
By Sasha Combs
When Detective Linda Gables is dispatched on a murder call, she approaches the scene much like any other. No detail goes unnoticed. Yet, at the time, she has no idea that this murder will lead to a string of other deadly kills. In under a month, she finds herself working to find the killer responsible for murdering four wealthy women.
Not one to shy away from a challenge, she approaches these crimes much like any other problem. She embraces the task, but at what cost to her relationship. Her strikingly handsome rich boyfriend, Hayford Mead is a patient man. He admires her wit but he strongly dislikes her job. While she toils away, working insanely long hours, Hayford is left to wonder. Is Linda willing to solve these crimes at the expense of ruining her chances with him?
Floundering Adrift. A mystery, romance series, brimming with suspense and wickedly combustible passion.
Floundering Adrift
Chapter 1
Bridled moans lay siege, challenging the soundness of mental enclosure. With each passing second, the pressure builds like a brimming moat, no longer able to defend. A rush of air takes aim, pounding against clenched jaws and tightly sealed lips. The mounting offense swiftly swells, bursting free in guttural cries. Frightening screams shake the room.
Linda shifts her weight, turning from her hip, opting to lay face down on her stomach. Instinctively her body knew to muffle the sound, smothering the wails in a pillow. The lulling sound of whispers, chase away fears once draped in looming darkness. A soothing touch of his hand curls around the nape of her neck. The warmth of his breath caresses her flesh much like a wisp of summer air.
“Sshhhh.... You’re all right now. I’m here. You’re all right baby.”
His face creased with worry, thankfully eclipsed by shadows. The tender sound that carried his voice was steady, yet beneath the tenor in his tone, unwavering concern embodied his true emotions. In spite of that, he leveled his calm for her sake and he'd become good at this. As he pressed his body closer to situate them in a spooning position; each spoken word was meant to erase the images that haunted her dreams.
“Come here...” he said while pulling her nearer but she broke free for a moment while turning to face him. Linda wasn’t attempting to pull away, she just preferred lying cradled in his arms. Truthfully, she wanted to lower her head, then bury her face. Just long enough to get her wits about her. She allowed Hayford to guide her, until she lie nestled in the place she’d deemed her sanctum. Linda emptied her lungs when she exhaled; clearly thankful to be awake and freed from her night horrors but consciousness itself could be a scary place. She shielded her face in his chest; embarrassed that he'd witnessed another one of her nightmares. She had no doubts that he loved her but letting him see her this way never got any easier; regardless of their shared love.
Hayford's fingers slowly raked through her curls, intermittently stopping to cup her head. He listened to the sounds in her apartment. The cheap wall clock in her bathroom echoed its loud annoying clatter. The noise made by the turning gears reminded him of Chinese torture. In the beginning of their relationship, when he'd first slept here, he'd complained but Linda had told him the ticking sound helped her fall asleep most nights. So, instead of whining, or buying her a proper clock, with nature sounds and all the bells and whistles; Hayford did the good boyfriend thing. He adopted a time honored principle to simply man up, grin and bear it. He smiled after drumming up that memory. Thinking about their first times spent together, comforted him. The smiles and kisses shared between them, always had the power to create a sense of hope. A layer of serenity and peace. Recalling thoughts about happier times, always chased away the bad days and this morning had all the hallmark signs, hinting of gloom and doom.
"Can I get you a glass of water?" He kissed her forehead while waiting for a response. Linda cleared her throat and a sudden tightness squeezed her words. A slight pain tickled her larynx. She wondered how loud her screaming had been. Forcing the thought into submission, she dismissed the telltale sign of vocal strain because to think about it brought on a measure of remorse too overwhelming to contemplate. She only hoped her screaming had not annoyed her neighbors.
Brushing one hand across her eye, she said...
"Thanks for offering, but I'm not thirsty."
He guided her head back until he could clearly see her eyes and most of her face. But like always, Linda wore an emotional mask, concealing how she truly felt. Hayford brushed his lips across her mouth then he said....
"You look tired.” He trailed a kiss up her face, then back down; lightly pressing his mouth on the side of her neck. The room was part darkness and shadows but the light peeking through her blinds was just enough, allowing him to see what needed to be seen. He lifted his head, to study her expression again. He said...
“Maybe it's time to talk to your commander about taking a day off. You've been working crazy hours and your caseloads aren't getting any lighter."
She'd heard this before. Hayford offering suggestions, complaining or outright disapproving of her job. But every disagreement couldn’t be thrashed out by compromising. As a detective, some things were unavoidable. Like, working long hours, or accepting that your life isn’t wholly your own; given the rigid work ethic. However, most times he didn't bother beating around the bush. Hayford said whatever cropped up in his head and that included his dislike of Linda being on the police force. In spite of that, he was right about one thing. She was tired and she'd been working practically around the clock for the past few weeks. Her sleep was being interrupted and tonight would make it the third night in a row, that a dream spooked her out of her sleep. As much as she wanted to debate the issues regrading her job; she didn't have the energy to duel with him. Linda nudged his hand away from her head. Just far enough to see the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was 2:00 am. She'd only been asleep for three hours. The night terrors seemed to be coming earlier each time; waking her hours before sunrise. Unfortunately, she could no longer hide this fact from her boyfriend because he'd witnessed more than a few events.
Linda plopped back where she'd been seconds earlier. She considered her words carefully. Not wanting to engage him in another argument about work or demanding schedules. Instead, she chose an entirely different approach.
"Hayford, you’re right. I can’t argue with you on that point. I am tired but we can talk about that later. Maybe after we've had adequate sleep and we’re both better rested.”
Linda nuzzled closer, seductively rubbing her hand along the length of his arm. Her fingers stroked circles, enticing the follicles to stand the hairs on end. Her eyes lit with mischief. This sensual exploration could end in only one way.
She lifted her head, speaking a hair’s breadth away from his lips.
“Actually, if you recall... We promised that whenever we're together, before we talk about troubling things; w
e’ll focus on ways to improve our communication. We also said that we would spend more time doing what we do best."
She leaned in close, nibbling his lower lip, enticing him to come closer. The love bite was gentle, not intended to hurt and it was just enough to propel his thoughts in another direction. Hayford felt a surge, as his length stiffened and swelled with excitement. They had made love earlier after he’d arrived but that had been hours ago. Now, he wanted her even more than he’d desired her when he saw her standing in her kitchen. Theirs was a passion that knew no boundaries. Heights held no meaning for them.
Hayford rolled on his back, acquiescing while she held sway above him. She straddled his body. Toned thighs rubbed his chest, raising his core temperature. He watched as she freed herself, pulling an oversized Harvard jersey above her head. Her hair fell free, draping her neck and shoulders like a curtain of black velvet. He wanted to press his tongue near a pulse point, but before he rose, instead he felt a shift in her weight. She was admiring him as she slowly lowered, pressing her mouth on his lips. Kissing him tenderly at first, then with a burst of emotions, a fervor flamed inside. Causing her to want more of him. She rose, lifting her hips, while reaching beneath to take hold of him. Losing no time; she rose higher, then impaled him inside of her warm passage. With him now sheathed deep within, they each cried out a release; sliding them into the clutches of ecstasy. Bellows lurched from their throats but the cries were nothing like Linda’s nightmare screams. As she rode him, their mingled voices echoed, while singing one chorus. They were in love and nothing was insurmountable for them. Their relationship had withstood the naysayers. Yet, neither could deny Linda's growing frazzled state. Strand by strand she was unraveling and Hayford’s greatest fear was that she might implode. He needed to articulate this in a way that wouldn’t injure her psyche because recently, she’d made it clear to him. Her tolerance was wavering and she didn’t appreciate his continued interference.
Enmeshed in billowing passion, like Hayford, she too dismissed the darkness. Linda lay on his chest, wrapped in his arms. Their skin sealed by a fine sheen of mingled perspiration. He’d reached his peak before her but she continued to ride his semi-firmness, finally finding her climax. Falling limp on top of him, she inhaled, taking in the aroma of their lovemaking. His rich musky scent was intoxicating; coiled around her fruity oils. Each time they made love, she would find herself counting her blessings. Questions would rise in her head. How had they found one another? What were the odds...? A rich man falling for a nobody like her. Yet, no matter how many times she would ask these questions... No matter the number... When they made love, their oneness would wash away every doubt. She would tell herself, that they belonged together. She would persuade herself to believe, he belonged to her as much as she belonged to him. Before meeting Hayford, every one of her relationships had failed to meet her expectations. None of the other men in her life had ever satisfied or loved her as much as Hayford.
Linda searched her heart, knowing full well what she would find. She kissed his chest, then lay her head to rest over his rapidly beating heart. She said...
“I love you.”
“I love you too baby.”
He held her tight in his arms, until they both gave-way to their exhaustion.
While they sleep; in their dreams danced pictures portraying romantic memories. As sweet as that all sounds, they aren’t immune as a couple. Nagging disagreements are a symptom of their problems. Disputes resurface and the answers aren’t always as clear as the problems themselves. Even though deliberately ignoring their vexations isn’t the win-win solution; for now, pretending is all that keeps them afloat. Somehow, when their romance roars its hungry head; sex is the answer. Making love, trumps their collective worries. Its a hiccup. A physical reaction that wields amazing power.
Two hours before sunrise, the chiming ringtone from Linda’s cell phone sang; waking them from their sated slumber. Linda pealed away from Hayford’s hold, scrambling clumsily across his chest. Her only aim was to answer it, thereby silencing the blasted thing. In a perfect world, this wouldn’t have happened but her life was anything but. She trudged along, managing a tangle of disruptions and inescapable circumstances.
Hayford leaned back; his right eye a target, and narrowly missed her elbow.
“Detective Gables...” She barked in the phone, still half drunk from sleep. Repeating what she’d heard, she said...
“East Seventy-fifth Street. Homicide... Possible witness on the scene. Yeah... Yeah... I got it. Tell the officer to secure the witness until I arrive.” She paused, before saying....
“No... It won’t be necessary to wake Stone. I’ll take the call alone. Let him sleep. At least one of us should get some rest.”
Linda laughed at something the dispatcher had said. Hayford held back a frown. He hated the late night telephone interruptions but he detested the crack of dawn murder calls. As a reporter, most times, he followed a story wherever and whenever he had too but Linda’s job was far worse and steadily the intrusion was becoming a thorn in his backside.
Linda disconnected the call, while climbing over Hayford to get out of the bed. He said...
“Why didn’t the dispatcher call your partner? And why is his sleep more important than your own?” He hated his choice of words but he felt no remorse when he said them. Even if he’d taken the requisite ten breaths to calm himself, it wouldn’t have changed the subtext. He was displeased and he wanted her to know this.
She stood on the side of the bed, lifting up personal items she’d emptied out on her nightstand. Cell phone, her shield, lip balm, a bottle of fragrant lotion. After she’d gathered up her things, she skirted around the bed, heading for her bathroom. She said...
“Not now Hayford. I don’t want to be late. The dispatcher said that there is a witness on the scene. The officer there is a rookie and I don’t want the questioning to get botched.”
Hayford leaped from the bed like a lion; blocking her path at the bathrooms entrance. His sudden move startled her but Linda didn’t appear at all daunted. She squared her shoulders when she said...
“What...?”
Her eyes rose to meet his, forcing her head to tilt back. He studied her stance, fully expecting this kind of behavior. By the look of things, she’d assumed a posture that he was certain she used whenever dealing with a perp. However, even though her scowl was convincingly menacing; on Hayford, her ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude wasn’t even a blip on his radar. He said...
“Linda, you’re operating on less than three hours of uninterrupted sleep. You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep running out of this apartment carrying a loaded weapon, while functioning on minimal sleep. It isn’t safe. Not for you or the citizens you’re paid to protect.”
“It’s my job Hayford. Besides, I can recall times when you've had even less sleep. Especially if you’re trying to meet a deadline.”
“Our situations aren’t the same Linda, and you know that. In my case, I'm working with a computer and not a loaded gun.”
Linda stepped to the right, trying to ease pass him but Hayford wouldn’t allow this. He braced both hands on her shoulders, then lowered his head to meet her eyes.
“Call the precinct. Tell them to wake Stone.”
“No.” she said using a defiant tone.
“Why Linda? Why do you have to be the one losing all the sleep?”
“Dispatch called me because that’s their job. Stone is new to our precinct and technically, since this case is being assigned to us...in this instance, I’m the senior officer.”
“Linda, as the senior officer, that gives you the authority to pass the buck.”
Linda sighed because she didn’t want to have this conversation with him. She lowered her eyes when she said...
“You’re right... I could do that but I’m not.”
Without having to say it, Hayford fully knew her reasons for not bothering Stone and he was partly to blame. They stood in silence for what se
emed like an eternity but in fact, only several seconds had passed. Attempting to find a fitting compromise, Linda said...
“Look... I’ll report in at the scene. Just long enough to gather information. After I talk to the witness, I’ll leave a message, instructing dispatch to call Stone. I’ll send him my preliminary report, telling him what needs to be done next. Once I get the ball rolling, I’ll come back home to grab a quick catnap.”
She lifted up on tiptoes, kissing him on his mouth. She could still smell traces of herself on the lower half of his chin. Hayford couldn’t resist her and she knew this. She was deliberately hitting below the belt, using sex as her weapon. He snaked his arms around her waist, hoisting her even higher. He deepened their kiss; easing his tongue pass her lips. She clung to him, drinking up all that he gave. When he pulled back he said...
“All right, you go but I’ll wait here, if you don’t mind.”
“What’s wrong? You don’t trust me?”
On this, he trusted her about as much as he trusted a wild starving lion but he wasn’t fool enough to admit this.
“Sure I trust you." He lied... “But if you’re going to take a catnap, I’d like to be here to hold you in my arms. Just to be sure that you sleep well.”
She smiled, because Hayford’s reasons were rarely uncomplicated but when he expressed himself, his explanations tended to sound straightforward; even when she knew that they weren’t.
Acquiescing, as best as she could, Linda breezily smiled while saying...
“All right. But you’ll need to step aside. I still need a quick shower and I've got to find an outfit that isn't wrinkled. If I get out of here in the next ten minutes, I should make it there in less than half an hour.”
Hayford reluctantly lowered her to the floor. His hand slipped low, cupping her breast in his palm. Using two fingers, he rolled her nipple, teasing it until it hardened. Linda heavily exhaled, unable to stop her eyelids from lowering. His teasing manipulation was exciting her.