Double Dilemma

by Tara Nina

  On wobbly legs, she turned to face him. Earl refused to look at her, but that didn’t stop Emma Jean. It’d been several years since she’d taken the time to enjoy life. She’d preached a good story about sex being the key to inner peace, but she’d been so focused on making Devilish Delights a success, she’d let her personal pleasure lapse. She knew in her heart she wanted both of these men in her life to fill that sexual void.

  Cupping Earl’s chin, she forced him to meet her gaze. If it took a domineering woman to make him perform sexually, then she didn’t mind controlling his pleasure. Not as long as she was the recipient of the results. She wiped the smile from her face and kept her voice authoritative.

  “Not sure what you meant last night when you claimed sex with you could get me killed.” She ran the tip of her tongue across his lips then did a quick nip of his lower lip with her teeth. She tilted her chin and held his gaze. “Obviously, you were wrong. Now excuse me while I get cleaned up and decide what your punishment will be for misleading your mistress with such a lie.”

  Emma Jean released his chin, grabbed her dress and marched to her office. She turned before he reached the other bathroom. “And Earl.” He automatically stopped but didn’t look her way. “Make sure you get those orders filled. The shipping company will be here at one to pick them up.”

  She turned on her heel and slammed the door behind her. Once inside her private bathroom, she collapsed on the toilet. Man was she playing with fire. Though he’d tried to hide it, she saw the sizzling heat of sexual promise in his hooded gaze. But she also saw the same thing that upset her last night. Sadness. It was unmistakable.

  What happened to him to make him think sex with him would kill her? Maybe having David check into Earl’s past wasn’t such a bad thing. It might just give her some sort of clue as to why this handsome, highly sexual Native American thought sex killed. From the way he enjoyed being dominated, perhaps some prior Dom twisted him into believing that if he had sex with someone else it would kill them? Nah. She shook her head. Now she was stretching, grasping for the absurd in trying to figure out the complexities of Earl.

  If she got her way, and she planned to, Earl’s thoughts of sex equaling death would soon be abolished from his vocabulary. Now that she had more of an idea of how to stimulate Earl’s libido, she had the upper hand and didn’t intend to lose.

  Emma Jean couldn’t prevent the smile that split her lips as a thought shot through her head. What a way to go with Earl fucking her in the ass and David filling her pussy. Now that she’d had them both, she wanted this threesome even more than ever. Hopefully, she could convince them to grant her the ménage a trois as her fortieth birthday gift. She stood, gathered a cloth from the cabinet and wet it at the sink. As she washed, she couldn’t help but think of this odd little twist in her life.

  Raised in the Bible Belt, she’d been taught sex was something only practiced between married couples and kept behind bedroom doors. It wasn’t normal to want two men at the same time. At least that’s what the religious community wanted the world to believe. She huffed at the thought. It wasn’t that she’d given up on religion. She just didn’t feel the need to justify her actions and personal beliefs in a building every Sunday. In her opinion, God created sexual pleasure. He wouldn’t have done that if He didn’t mean for it to be experienced.

  She smiled at her reflection then slid the sundress over her head. And thinking of God, it reminded her of the special meeting she needed to attend with the fine Reverend Pickford around eleven. That was if he managed to ditch his wife for an hour. Emma Jean shivered at the prospect those two people even had sex. Maybe that’s why Penelope’s expression always seemed so sour.

  No sex would definitely turn her into a pickled person, Emma Jean decided as she exited the bathroom. But she couldn’t let the Pickfords’ sexual situation—or lack thereof—bother her at the moment. She needed to make a few final preparations before her meeting with Paul.

  The little devil on her shoulder whispered in her ear. Wonder what Penelope would think or do if she ever found out. Unable to stop it, a low chuckle escaped. Did Penelope even know her husband was such a sexual individual? Emma Jean shook her head. Nah. She doubted it. He kept it hidden—except from her.

  Chapter Five

  Slowly, she pulled from the parking space and followed Emma Jean. Like the detectives on those TV shows, she made sure she kept several cars between them so she wouldn’t be spotted. When Emma Jean turned, she turned. Her heart raced and her palms were sweaty. She wasn’t sure what she planned to do when she got Emma Jean alone. But she intended to get Emma Jean alone.

  A desperate gnawing inside her drove this need to speak with Emma Jean about a matter that concerned her deeply. In her mind, Emma Jean stepped over an invisible line between right and wrong. Several times she’d attempted to correct this amoral problem and failed. But it wasn’t her fault. The moment had never been exactly conducive to the situation. She closed her eyes and prayed for the strength to amend this improper action and heal the devastating darkness that festered in her soul. It truly wasn’t her fault Emma Jean refused to listen to what was moral and went against the rites of decency. And in her book, that deserved no leniency. But she planned to be the one to fix this atrocity.

  And he—he would not be allowed to roam free for his sexual depravities.

  The man involved deserved nothing better than castration as far as she was concerned. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she gritted her teeth. If he crossed in front of her at the moment, he’d be a speed bump and no court in the world would convict her. Not once they knew the truth as she saw it.

  It didn’t surprise her when Emma Jean’s car pulled into the Mountain Motor Lodge out on the highway. She huffed. The place was known for special hourly room accommodations and its rowdy restaurant and bar. She raised her eyes to the heavens and prayed the sinful ways of this place didn’t scar her soul. If it weren’t for Emma Jean’s reluctance to repent, she wouldn’t even be near this cesspool for the Devil’s ways.

  In the far corner nearest the highway, she parked beside a truck with oversized tires, which made it sit high off the ground. It gave her the perfect view of Emma Jean without being seen and kept her car hidden from any other that may enter the parking lot. Patiently, she watched and waited for Emma Jean’s next move.

  When a stark-white sedan pulled into the lot, Emma Jean got out of her car. Energy sizzled up her spine. Sweat beaded her brow and her eyes widened at the sight. She’d recognize that head of white hair anywhere. His slender build made his light-gray suit hang loose on his frame. Though she knew he couldn’t see her when he turned that striking blue gaze in her direction, she slouched in the seat and hid.

  Several seconds passed as she held her breath. She suspected Emma Jean was the other-woman type, but it took seeing it with her own eyes to make it a fact. Now to get proof of what she’d seen. She reached into her pocketbook in the passenger seat and pulled out her cell phone complete with photo capabilities. She inched upright and scanned the area for them.

  Spotting them at the front door of the restaurant, she quickly snapped a couple of pictures making sure to include the name of the facility in at least one shot. She waited several minutes trying to decide her next plan of action. She closed her eyes and prayed. Should she take a chance on being seen and enter the building? Upon opening her eyes, her prayer was answered. The pair was seated at one of the huge windows lining the front of the restaurant.

  “Thank you,” she whispered aloud, raising her gaze to the heavens. This had to be a sign God was on her side in her crusade against injustice and evil.

  As carefully as she could, she exited the car. She weaved along the outskirts of the parking lot, making sure to keep herself out of their line of sight should they happen to glance out the window. It wouldn’t do to be caught at this point in the game, but she needed to be closer to gain better pictures.

  Positioned just right, she took more shots of th
e pair through the window. Their hands touched. They shared an appetizer. What else did they share? The question frizzled her brain circuits and increased her anger. She leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.

  Rid the world of evil—be blessed by God. The silent mantra whispered through her head in an attempt to calm her nerves. But lately, it didn’t work as well as it had in the past. Current events kept her motivated in her efforts to end her issues with him.

  She dug the heel of her palm into her temple. Everything wrong in her world revolved around him. He was not good and righteous as he portrayed himself to be in the eyes of others. He equaled pure evil and she intended to show everyone the truth and make them believe her version of religion, no matter what it took.

  She pushed off the wall and made her way unnoticed back to her car. Staring at the head of white hair in the window, she set her aim. This battle she planned to win no matter at what cost to the good reverend.

  * * * * *

  Several hours of nonstop searching gave him little to no information. David sat back in his chair staring at his computer screen. There had to be a reason behind it. No one came up this clean. Running a background check on Earl’s social security number produced nothing substantial. It seemed as if he simply appeared out of nowhere three years ago and tended to move on a regular basis within that time frame. The man didn’t own anything. No mortgage, no work history other than Devilish Delights and no credit cards to his name. Then it hit him.

  Either Earl was in a witness protection program—which he highly doubted—or he’d lived most of his life on a reservation. David sat upright and slid in closer to his desk. He had another hunch to follow, but he doubted it would lead anywhere. That bunch was usually tight-lipped and kept information on tribal members within the confines of the tribe.

  He knew from experience dealing with reservations could be tricky. They maintained their own law enforcement rules and regulations and didn’t take kindly to outside intrusions.

  Most tribes qualified as sovereign nations within their states and didn’t pay state taxes and little or no federal taxes. Since he found no tax records on Earl prior to his employment with Emma Jean, David bet his hunch was right. Earl must have worked and lived on a reservation and been tax exempt.

  After another hour of persistent web surfing through tons of bureaucratic nonsense, he located a small tidbit of information on Earl Lightfoot. A five-year-old newspaper article pertaining to a minute tribe of Cherokee Native Americans located at Chilhowee Lake caught his attention. The article itself held no pertinent information but the picture, which accompanied it, made him smile. In the center of a group of three men and two women stood a smiling Earl Lightfoot.

  At least he swore it looked like Lightfoot. A much younger-looking man without the gray streaks in his hair stared back at him from the picture. But David’s gut instinct believed it to be the man of his investigation. He ran another search on the Chilhowee Lake Cherokee tribe and obtained a telephone number of their tribal office. After several rings the telephone call went unanswered, not even a machine to leave a message.

  “Damn,” David muttered as he hung up.

  There was only one way to get what he wanted. Drive out there. A good detective never quit. Glancing over the edge of his computer screen, he noted his partner Jack O’Malley wasn’t at his desk. He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, pulled his gun from the desk drawer and holstered it. He almost made it out of the precinct without being stopped, but Jack caught up to him on the front steps.

  “Where you headed?”

  “Out.”

  “Got a hot tip on a new case you care to share?” Jack’s tone hinted he knew David was up to something. He looked over his shoulder and noted Jack straightened his shirt collar as if he’d tugged on his coat in a hurry. The pair had worked closely together for months and clicked perfectly as a detective team. David hated not being honest with him, so he chose not to tell him the exact truth to his needing to leave.

  “Nah, just a bit of personal business to handle.” David tried to sound nonchalant and hoped he bought it.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Jack grinned. “Mind if I tag along? You never know when you might need a cowboy at your side to help deal with those Indians.” He winked and David just shook his head.

  “How’d you know?”

  “You left your computer files open when you went to get us coffee earlier. You weren’t your normal chatty self this morning, so I got nosey and took a peek at what you were doing.” Jack fell in step beside David as he continued toward his car. “Besides, Shelley spoke with Emma Jean this morning.”

  David swallowed against the flush that threatened to heat his cheeks, but knew he didn’t succeed. “What all did she say?”

  Jack’s hand clapped down on David’s shoulder and he laughed. “Don’t you worry, my friend. Shelley doesn’t tell me everything she and her cousin discuss. But that look on your face tells me a whole heap.” As they reached the car, Jack scooted around to the passenger side. “Now, let’s go check out your rival for Emma Jean’s affections.”

  “He’s not my rival,” David stated point-blank as he slid into the driver’s side.

  “No?” Jack questioned in a mocking tone.

  “No. Emma Jean’s been getting odd phone calls about Earl that has her rattled. I’m just doing a simple background check on him, which she never did before she hired him.”

  “Shelley told me about the calls. Do you think there’s any truth to them?” Jack’s tone shifted into that of a professional detective.

  David was glad. He could take the good-natured ribbing. That wasn’t the problem. Jack touched a nerve when he called Earl his rival for Emma Jean. He forced the issue to the back of his brain for the moment and answered Jack. “I’m not sure. I ran a normal background check that came back empty of even the basics. There wasn’t much information on file about him, which led me to believe he never left the tribe’s fold until right before he began working for Emma Jean.”

  “Could be,” Jack said as he dialed his cell phone. “Let me see what I can find out. I’ve got a friend who works for the Cherokee Nation Planning Committee. We met in boot camp and kept in touch.”

  “Thanks, I‘d appreciate it.”

  David couldn’t help but listen to the conversation as he drove. After several minutes of catching up, Jack got down to the gist of his call and apparently his friend on the other end was happy to help. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Jack writing information on a pad. He took it as a good sign.

  When Jack hung up, he turned to David. “He found limited information on Lightfoot. Apparently he was a model citizen living and working on the reservation. Then for some unspecified reason, he left and he’s no longer listed as a tribal member.”

  “What does that mean? Why would Lightfoot leave his home?”

  “In Native American terms…” Jack paused and David heard the concern in his voice. “It’s not good. According to my friend, something illegal in the eyes of their tribal law occurred and he either chose to leave or was asked to leave. Since there is no legal documentation to back this, it’s simply speculation on his part until we speak with the contact he gave me.”

  “Any insight as to what illegal action Lightfoot may have been involved in?” Need to know burned in David’s brain and made his foot press the gas pedal notching up his speed.

  “He hinted it could have been one of several issues. Either Lightfoot embezzled from the tribe or…” Jack hesitated.

  “Or?” David pushed for him to continue.

  “Or he committed murder on tribal grounds.”

  David floored the gas pedal and attempted to switch the siren on, but Jack stopped him.

  “Hold on, cowboy. We can’t go in there guns a blazing. We’ll get shut down and learn nothing. He gave me a contact name who should be able to help us.” Jack released David’s wrist. “Just get us there in one piece and with the right amount of delicate
pressure and a polite attitude, I’m sure this Julia Cloud will assist us.”

  Less than an hour later, they stood in the cramped office of the Chilhowee Lake Canoe and Kayak rental facility. A woman sat behind the desk shuffling through a stack of invoices. When she looked up, she smiled then asked, “May I help you, gentlemen?”

  “I’m David Delaney.” David extended his hand and nodded toward Jack. “And this is my partner, Jack O’Malley. We’re detectives with the Cumberland County Police Department.”

  “I figured as much,” she stated without shaking his hand. Instead, she pushed her glasses back up her nose, sat straight and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not many show up in suits out here.”

  “We were given your name by John Eagle from the Cherokee Nation Planning Committee. He said you might be able to provide us with some information on an individual under investigation.” Jack stepped forward. David noted his Texan accent thickened and Jack’s smile broadened as his partner applied a touch of charm on the woman. “I hope we weren’t misled and our presence isn’t too much of an intrusion on your valuable time, Miss Cloud. It is Miss, isn’t it? I hope.”

  Oh brother, shot through David’s head and he had to swallow hard not to grin. If Shelley knew Jack flirted with another woman, she’d have his balls in a sling—literally. But then again, knowing their affinity for sex toys, he might like it.

  The woman leaned forward and tossed her long braid of thick, black hair across her shoulder. Her gaze never left Jack’s as she replied in such a cool, collected tone David thought they were about to be thrown out. “It’s Ms. Cloud. What’s your connection with John Eagle and why would he suggest I’d help you?”

  “We served together in the Marines.”

  Suddenly enlightenment shone in her eyes and her face paled as she stood and took his hand, shaking it vigorously. “You’re that Jack O’Malley. It’s a pleasure to meet you. What can I do for you?”

  David stood in awe. His gaze landed on Jack’s face and this time it was his buddy’s turn to blush. What had Jack done in the Marines that made this woman’s attitude toward them completely change within a split second? He made a mental note to ask later.