Missing, Presumed Dead

by Christiane France

  We'd made it halfway down the hall leading to the bedrooms when the lights went off, yet again. Tim cannoned into my back, almost knocking me over.

  "Sorry about that. I hate the dark." He gave a shaky laugh. "Always have. Scares the living crap out of me. Makes me jumpy as hell. Clumsy, too."

  Oh, yeah? I've seen more than a few clever moves over the years, but when it came to making the best of an opportunity, this guy was beyond good. Believable, almost.

  He cuddled closer, presumably to prove his point, then wrapped his arms around my body, and I felt his hot breath tickling my neck. "I hope you don't mind me hanging onto you like this."

  Mind? Why should I mind? The power's never off for more than a minute, two at the very most, so I had no reason to worry about things getting out of hand. "It's okay. You'll be fine."

  Whether I would be fine was a whole different story. His heat, his scent, the way his hard cock was pressing against my crack was such a turn-on, I figured I might as well enjoy the thrill while it lasted. All I had to do was relax...one, two, three, four. Any second now there would be light. Five, six, seven, eight, nine... By the time I got to ten, my imagination had taken off and I didn't care if the damn lights never ever came on again.

  He was nibbling my ears and stroking my dick, and it didn't take genius mentality to know where things were headed. But what the hell? Maybe he really was afraid of the dark rather than an opportunist, and if something we both wanted kept his mind off his fears where was the harm?

  Just when things started to get really hot, the lights flashed on and off a couple of times, then came back on to stay.

  He relaxed his hold and gave another shaky laugh. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to get quite so carried away. I guess what they say about fear being a powerful aphrodisiac is true."

  Oh, sure! The guy is edging in on forty and this is the first time he's discovered the connection? I don't think so. I may live in a small town, but he has to know us small-towners are not that naive. "You think?"

  "Not really, no." He visibly relaxed and treated to me to a soft, sexy chuckle that raised everything on my body, including my hopes, as he reached out and stroked a finger down my cheek. "You could have pushed me away."

  "True. I could also have screamed rape. Problem is living out here with my nearest neighbor working nights, I doubt anyone would have heard."

  "Would you have wanted them to hear?"

  "Not particularly." I smiled. This was California where tall, good-looking, blond-haired, surfer-dudes are a dime a dozen. But there was nothing stereotypical about Tim. For one thing, he was much older than your average surfer dude, and while most surfers are just good looks and muscles, this guy had all that plus charisma to spare. His blond, sun-streaked hair looked natural, and his deep blue eyes were a turn-on all by themselves.

  "You sure about that?"

  "About as sure as I can be."

  The wanting was there on both sides. It was so damn obvious what was about to happen, and I needed to put a stop to it, now. This was where I was supposed to force a laugh, shuffle my feet to cover any embarrassment, and get back to showing Tim to his room. Except I knew I couldn't do any of that. My rule of not mixing business with pleasure was about to get broken, and there was nothing I could do about it. At least, nothing I wanted to do.

  "That's what I thought." He took a step closer, linked his hands behind my head and reeled me in like a fish, making it clear he was the one in charge. "Now, put your arms around me."

  His lips tasted sweet as honey against mine, and, as I did his bidding, I opened my mouth to his searching tongue. I loved the masterful way he held and kissed me. The way he sent the blood rushing through my veins and setting my nerve endings on fire. This was a guy who knew what he was doing. Everything about the kiss was deep, yet unhurried, and so all-consuming it was as if he intended taking possession of my soul as well as my body.

  He grasped my ass cheeks and rubbed himself against my aroused cock. I shivered in anticipation, barely able to breathe while I wondered if I could stay the course.

  The kiss ended, and his hands moved under my shirt, finding and pinching my nipples so hard I gritted my teeth against the incredible rush of pleasure and pain. Then his mouth took over, licking the sensitive nubs while he undid my jeans and pushed them down over my hips. I wasn't wearing underwear to impede his progress, and I registered his soft groan of delight as my dick sprang free, begging for his attention.

  He slid his tongue slowly down my body before he grasped my shaft in both hands and licked the tip. I shivered again and threaded my fingers through his hair, silently begging him to get down to business. At the very last minute, just as he was about to take me into his mouth, cold reality intruded, and I held him back. This was one rule I couldn't mess with.

  "You have a condom?"

  "You think we need one?"

  "That's not the point. I don't take chances with anyone, so if you don't, I keep a supply in the bathroom."

  "It's okay. I do."

  He reached in the back pocket of his pants and pulled out his wallet. After taking out a familiar silver-colored package, he waved it under my nose and ripped it open with his teeth. "You always this careful?"

  "Always. You?"

  "I always try to be." He took the rubber from the package and fitted it over my arousal. "Don't worry. The test results I got about a week ago were all negative, and I've had no action since they were taken."

  Once the condom was in place and his lips were wrapped around my cock, I forgot about business and gave myself over to the exquisite pleasure of his mouth loving me. I closed my eyes, shutting out everything but the here and the now. He started off by licking my dick from root to tip and squeezing my balls, pushing me to the edge and quickly retreating. When he began sucking me, hard, I knew the slow, leisurely foreplay was over. This was the real thing, baby.

  When he grasped my hips and drew me farther into his heat, I filled my lungs with air and began to fuck his mouth. It felt so good, so right, and he synced his movements with mine until we were rocking it out together, stroke for stroke. I was on the edge of coming, and it was great, like flying down the mountain on jet-powered skis. Everything was so fucking perfect, unlike anything I'd experienced in what I knew was way too long. I wanted to hold onto the feeling just a little bit longer. Another minute, or even a few seconds. But as always happens, the wild trip was over much too fast. I came back to earth with a thud, feeling a little bit stupid and a whole lot embarrassed about behaving like a kid with an overabundance of hormones.

  After I pulled up my pants, he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. "Hey, you mad at me?"

  "No point." I disentangled myself from his embrace and stepped back. "It was as much my fault as yours. But if we're going to have a business relationship, it can't happen again."

  "Why? Is it against the rules?"

  "You could say that. You've hired me to find your sister and the job comes first. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, it's understood." He sighed, looking a tad embarrassed. "Whether you believe me or not, finding Petra is my number one priority. I'm worried sick about her and that's the truth. I swear."

  I wanted to believe him, but after what just happened between us, I wasn't sure I was buying. On the other hand, fear and frustration were powerful emotions.

  "Good. Keep thinking like that and we'll be fine."

  "I genuinely am scared of the dark. It wasn't an act or a trick."

  Whatever I might have expected him to say to excuse his behavior, it wasn't that. "You're kidding, right?"

  "I wish I was. It's something I've had to contend with all my life, and hours of therapy haven't helped. The doctors figure it relates to an incident from my childhood. Something I don't remember because I've buried it deep in my psyche. All I know is when the light went out, the fear took over and, like always, I panicked. I just needed to grab onto another human being."

  "And I happened to be available?
"

  He reached out to touch me, only to quickly withdraw his hand before making contact. "Yes, but if we weren't already attracted to one another, it would have been a simple comfort thing and nothing more. The sex would not have happened."

  Rather than deny something I knew to be true, I continued along the hall, opened the door of the spare room and switched on the light. "Get some sleep. You're going to need it. Tomorrow promises to be a busy day."

  * * * *

  I was bone-tired, but with a new case to think about, I felt edgy and restless. Sleep was impossible. My mind kept bouncing to and fro between Tim, what we'd done and the best way to prevent a second occurrence, and trying to decide if Chief Fox would risk his job by covering for Frank Bunson. Vance would hit the roof for sure if I cut Tim loose by telling him to find himself another PI firm. I couldn't ask Ian Coulter, my partner in Amethyst Cove Security & Investigations, to take him on. For one thing, Ian was currently working a difficult case involving computer fraud that required his attention twenty-four-seven. For another, Ian would demand to know why. If I told him, he'd laugh his head off, and I didn't see anything funny about the situation.

  Ian would also point out that we needed the money, and I had nothing else to do that was so pressing it couldn't be put off for a day or two.

  Meaning the easiest, most sensible solution for me, as far as Tim was concerned, was to pull out all the stops and find his sister ASAP, which brought me back to the chief. I wouldn't put anything past Foxy. Not if it was something he wanted to do and figured he could get away with. Even so, I couldn't wrap my head around any young woman with as much going for her as Petra Lianne falling for a piece of shit like Frank.

  The friend who'd called Vance had said Petra met an Amethyst Cove cop at a party and they'd had an affair. Frank was a certified womanizer and self-professed stud, but I knew enough about the guy to be sure he didn't have the right kind of connections to get invited to any kind of Hollywood party. He wasn't young, cool or hip enough to crash one, and if he wanted to moonlight at something, he'd do it here in the Cove, not in L.A. He was good looking in a mature kind of way, and the local women seemed to find him sexy...women around his age of about forty-five or older.

  Whoever Tim's sister was hooked up with, I was as certain as I could be without actual proof that it wasn't Frank.

  I mentally flipped through the younger members of the Amethyst Cove P.D. After discarding most of them as unlikely, at least for now, I stopped at former high school basketball star, Federico Lopez.

  A couple of weeks ago I was in The Riptide, a favorite cop bar located near the marina. Federico was there, too, and I happened to overhear him telling the guy he was with how he and his good buddy, Shooter Schultz, had been spending their off-duty hours in L.A., apparently having a great time and earning themselves a few extra bucks, if what he'd said was to be believed. I hadn't bothered trying to figure out if they were moonlighting as wait staff, security, or escorts. Now, I found myself belatedly wishing I had. The Hollywood parties he'd bragged about attending sounded pretty upscale to me--the kind where I knew, from personal experience, it was possible to meet every kind of celebrity from the has-beens to the in-crowd, and even the latest new faces.

  Federico and Shooter were both good-looking single guys, somewhere in their late twenties, who knew how to dress, and drove cool cars. Even more important, from the way Federico spoke, they knew their way around the Hollywood scene, which made them far more likely candidates for Petra's mystery man than Frank.

  If Petra had a thing with one of the cops with Amethyst Cove P.D., then it had to be one of them. They were the only viable possibilities. As to which one...Vance said Petra's friend thought the man's name began with an F. Did that mean it was Federico? Or had Vance only thought she said F when she'd actually said S, and Petra's boyfriend was, in fact, Shooter? I've confused those two letters a few times myself while talking on the phone, so I know it's easy enough to do.

  I made a mental note to have Calista Perry, our office manager, chief research assistant and Girl Friday, find out where they lived and what shifts they were working. Once I had that information, I could do a little snooping and see where it led.

  Calista was great when it came to getting information. She was also the best thing that could happen to a couple of ex-cops who were long on investigative skills and short on all the other stuff that makes a business successful.

  When Ian and I quit the force and opened Amethyst Cove Security & Investigations, one of the first things we did was post an ad on the Net, inviting applications for a general assistant... someone who could take care of the office, do the books, and knew about skip tracing. We added a proviso that we were just starting out and couldn't afford to pay much. Calista replied to the ad the same day it appeared by saying she had degrees in law and business management, wanted an interesting job more than she needed money, and was available for an interview at our convenience.

  The west coast has a reputation for attracting the seriously different. Nothing surprises us, so Ian and I took it in stride when Calista arrived for the interview wearing a skirt, blouse and sensible pumps, circa WWII, no makeup or jewelry, hair in a ponytail, and riding a bicycle. However, within minutes of meeting her, we both got the feeling the old fashioned, upright, uptight demeanor was all an act. She was smart, sharp as a tack, and we hired her on the spot. A decision neither of us have regretted for a single second because she's all that and more. Calista is sweet and friendly with everyone, which fools most people most of the time, and that makes her our secret weapon. When she wants something, be it someone's address or phone number, payment of an overdue account, or anything else, watch out. The lady has all the instincts of a barracuda.

  * * * *

  I eventually managed to get a little sleep. The reason I knew this was because one minute the room was still dark; the next the sun was peeking through the blinds. And if I had any doubt about the time, Albert and George were sitting on my chest, demanding to be fed, and the digital clock on the nightstand showed I was running late.

  I showered, shaved, threw on a pair of old jeans and headed for the kitchen. I noticed Tim's door was closed and, as the house was quiet, I figured he was still sleeping, until a movement on the patio caught my eye. He was up, dressed and leaning on the railing separating my property from the beach. A half empty glass of OJ was clutched in his right hand, and he was either staring at the waves and a couple of kids who were trying to catch one or gazing into space.

  I fed the cats and Bunny, the flop-eared rescue rabbit Calista recently sicced on me. She said the poor critter was in desperate need of a large helping of TLC, and I was the only person she knew who had enough space for his cage.

  I waited until all three boys were busy chowing down, then I put water and coffee grounds in the machine, switched it on, and opened the patio door. "Coffee will be ready in a couple of minutes. What do you want for breakfast?"

  "Whatever you have." He turned in my direction, the sun glinting off his blond hair and the flirty, toothpaste smile rocking my world a whole lot more than I expected. Temptation beckoned. I was up, I was hard, and I just knew he was, too.

  I wanted to say he could have me first, then move on to eggs or cereal, but by sheer force of will, I restrained myself. Getting it on with a client was beyond stupid. Start concentrating on the client instead of the job and I'd screw up and have to forfeit the fee. I needed to get out more, relax more, and yes, get laid more often than I have lately. Perhaps then, I could keep my mind on the job and away from Tim's soft lips and clever mouth, and my own very vivid memories of last night.

  "Breakfast is the most important meal of my day, so I'm having eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast. You want the same or something lighter?"

  "I'll have the same. It sounds good."

  As Tim followed me inside the house, I remembered my duties as a host and asked if he slept okay.

  "Not really."

  "That's too bad." I turne
d on a burner on the stove, opened the fridge and took out a carton of eggs. "Was the bed uncomfortable?"

  "The bed was fine. I just couldn't sleep. Too wound up, I guess."

  "Worrying about your sister?"

  "That, too." He raised his eyebrows and gave me a long, almost resentful look. A look I figured I was supposed to understand but didn't.

  "You mean you have other--" I put down the eggs before I dropped them.

  Oh, shit! Of course!

  No wonder he was looking at me like that. He had every right to feel pissed off and deprived. I'd done all the taking last night and hadn't given his needs a second's thought. "I'm sorry. I didn't think. You should have said something."

  "I would have, if you hadn't been so bent out of shape about keeping things businesslike. I know, I could have easily solved the problem by indulging in a little emergency DIY, but that's for kids. I decided I'd rather wait. I like the idea of you owing me one."

  I laughed, figuring he was joking. "Me owe you one? That's funny."

  "It's not at all funny; it's only fair. You had me so frustrated and stressed out, I couldn't sleep."

  "Like you said, you didn't have to suffer."

  "Sure, I did. You got me in that condition. I think it's only right you fix the problem. Agreed?"

  "Well, in that case..." Any guilt I was feeling disappeared in a rush of adrenalin. The same brand as when he'd sandbagged me last night after the power went out. The guy had nerve and confidence to spare, along with a raw sexiness that got under my skin and made me itch in places I couldn't scratch right now. I grinned and cocked one eyebrow. "Okay, so I owe you. But it'll have to wait until I find out what happened to your sister."

  "I understand that." He smiled and ran his tongue along his upper lip in what I was beginning to realize was an unconscious habit. Regardless, it was erotic, unsettling. It made me want to forget what I said about not mixing business and pleasure and make good on the IOU right then and there. "And I agree, finding Petra comes first. No question."