Fatal Evidence

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Fatal Evidence Page 22

by Kari Lemor


  Wiping a strand of hair from her face, Heather sighed. She didn’t want to stop, he could tell. And he’d keep going if she asked. He was beginning to think he’d do most anything for her. The last week had been the best time he’d ever spent with anyone. He hadn’t even cared that her makeup littered his counter in the bathroom or that she had the habit of leaving half-empty water bottles all over the place. She was great company in all ways. And not only in bed, though that part had been fuckin’ amazing. Conversation flowed easily between them, serious and humorous. Making fun of herself was something she did as much as teasing him.

  “I hate to leave,” she said as she shone the flashlight at him. “There’s got to be something here. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” The beam cut through the darkness in this part of the basement. Most of the lights here didn’t work. It flickered behind him and she stepped closer, her head tilting.

  “What is that behind you?”

  Scott turned around surveying the broken lumber. “All this debris?”

  “No, there’s something shiny under the wood.”

  Taking his own flashlight, he shined it on the trash and then pushed aside a few pieces to see what she was talking about. Under the stairs was a small trap door. He pulled on it, but it stuck. Then he saw the large lock holding the door in place. And the door wasn’t made of the old timber much of the other doors were. It was steel and attached with sturdy hinges.

  “Looks like we may have discovered what is so interesting about this place.”

  As she approached, Heather rested against his back, almost like she was using him as a shield. No problems there. He’d risk his life for hers. Of that he had no doubt.

  “Can we open it?”

  “Not with these tools. I’ll need something stronger. Possibly even a power saw. Although a .45 might do it quickly enough.”

  “Do you have a .45?”

  He nodded. “I think we can try bolt cutters first. The gun will be a last resort. There’s always the chance of the bullet ricocheting around the room and hurting one of us.”

  “Can we go get the tools right now?” Her eyes almost glowed in the darkness.

  Glancing at his watch, he said, “It’s already seven. It’ll take us a while to get them and return. I don’t want to start messing around down there this late. Who knows what we’ll find. We can come back during the day.”

  “Not tomorrow. We’ve got the party to go to.”

  “But that’s not until night, correct?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have a formal gown to wear so I need to go shopping. And there’s no way you’re going down there exploring without me.”

  Whatever was down there had been there for a while. It certainly wasn’t going anywhere. It could wait.

  “If you’re not too hung over from this big soiree, we can come back Sunday.”

  “Oh, I won’t be. I’ll make sure to keep my eye on how much I drink.”

  Slipping his hand into her hair, he leaned in, whispering in her ear, “I don’t know, I kind of like you drunk. That night at Chris and Meg’s wedding is one I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

  “Except I don’t remember it, you ass.”

  “Get drunk again and I’ll make sure you don’t forget this one. I can go all night long until you remember every touch.”

  Chapter 19

  Scott finished shaving and brushing his teeth then opened the bathroom door. Heather was in the bedroom getting her gown on for the big shindig tonight. She’d come back from running errands for most of the day with her hair and nails done. It looked like she had on more makeup than usual, also. Some combination that made her look more exotic.

  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go or not. Being with Heather was always great but the rest of the rich and snobby, not a chance. Throwing the towel back into the bathroom, he entered his room and the air whooshed out of his lungs. Hot damn and holy hell. The gold-spangled fabric that draped across Heather’s glorious body hugged her hips and was cut dramatically low on her back. Shit, another inch and you’d be able to see her ass crack.

  “Um, I think they forgot the back of your dress, princess.”

  As she turned, his mouth dried up and his tongue didn’t seem to work. The front of the dress was held up by a trio of straps on each shoulder, the lower one caressing her upper arm like a tiny sleeve. The V front dipped between her breasts, though nowhere near the amount of the back. But she couldn’t possibly be wearing a bra underneath it. Besides the back being too low, her nipples poked through the alluring fabric.

  “Glad to see me?”

  Looking down, she frowned. “I thought that might be a problem. I got some special tape to fix it.”

  He watched mesmerized as she pulled open a box and removed what looked like flesh colored Band-Aids. She pressed them across her still erect nipples then flattened the dress down again. They might not be apparent to anyone else anymore, but he knew what was under there.

  “Are you trying to make me walk around with a boner all night?”

  She sashayed closer and ran her hand down his chest then lower, barely touching the front of his pants. The tenting grew more obvious and he bit back a groan.

  “Do they make those Band-Aid things for men? I might need one with you walking around like that all night.”

  “You like the dress then.”

  Running his fingers down her back, he slid them inside the fabric and fingered between her butt cheeks. “I like the access it gives me, but I’m not sure I want anyone else having it. Or even seeing you like this.”

  She rolled her eyes and adjusted a wayward curl that had shifted from her fancy updo. “Believe me, Scott, this dress will be conservative compared to some of the people there tonight. You should see what Charlotte is wearing.”

  “I’m not sleeping with Charlotte, and I don’t care if other men ogle her.”

  Sidling up to him and pressing her chest against his, she whispered, “I think I like your being jealous.”

  “Who said I was jealous?” Shit, he was jealous. When had that happened? “I just don’t want guys picturing themselves fucking you up against a wall in a corner of the ballroom.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “No one’s going to—”

  “Oh, believe me, they will. They won’t tell you though.”

  She straightened his collar and buttoned his top button. “Is that what you’ll be picturing?”

  “Me? No. I’ll be imagining you and me out on the balcony again. I’ll slide my hands in the sides of your dress then remove your little tit strips. After playing there for a bit, I’ll bend you over the railing like before and push the fabric off this gorgeous ass. After a few minutes licking and nibbling on that, I’ll plunge inside and screw you until you wake the neighbors with your screams.”

  A shiver ran through her and Scott felt a deep satisfaction at affecting her that way. “You like when I talk dirty to you, huh, princess?”

  Resting her head on his chest, she nodded then eased away. “You need to stop. We’ll be late for the party and my mother will nag all night to me about it. Here, I got you something.”

  As she walked toward the bag on the bed, he pulled on his suit jacket. She came back carrying a burgundy tie with a gold paisley print on it. “I thought you could wear this. It matches my dress.”

  “What, the ties I have aren’t good enough?” he teased, putting the fabric around his neck and knotting it. He’d never been all that good at this and Heather pushed his hands away and helped him.

  “Both of your ties are fine. I merely thought it would be nice to have a new one.”

  Was she emphasizing that he only had two? What the heck did he need with more? Although if they became a real couple, he’d most likely have to attend more fancy parties like this. That was a sobering thought. Would she be buying him a new suit…or two, also?
/>   “There, all ready and handsome as ever.” She reached up to comb her fingers through his hair, fluffing a bit here and moving a strand there.

  “Did you want to check my teeth while you’re at it?” He tried for a teasing tone, but in the back of his mind was the thought he hadn’t quite come up to snuff on his own.

  The look she threw him could have melted steel. “Let me grab my purse and we’ll be all set.”

  The small gold clutch sat on the dresser and she picked it up, tossed in a lipstick and some other makeup thing, and then snapped it closed.

  When he held his arm out, she slipped her hand through it and they set out. As they crossed the living room she stopped to grab some keys on the coffee table. “Here, I rented a car for tonight.”

  She’d rented a car. “Why?”

  Her smile was huge and genuine so he tried not to take offense as she explained, “The cab of your truck is kind of high and this dress isn’t all that easy to maneuver in. I thought it might be less difficult with a lower sedan.”

  “Sure, did you want to drive then?”

  She handed him the keys and said, “No, you can. These four-inch heels aren’t real conducive to manipulating a gas and brake pedal.”

  As they drove, they both took guesses as to what they’d find once they unlocked the trap door at the mill. Gold, more stolen goods, drugs, the Man in the Iron Mask.

  “I hope it’s not a dead body,” Scott said. He’d seen enough of those in the sand box.

  “Ooh, yuck. Wouldn’t that smell and have flies everywhere?”

  They pulled up and he avoided the question. She didn’t need to know the details of dead bodies. Helping her out of the car, he handed the valet the keys and escorted her into the upscale hotel.

  “My parents rented out the ballroom on the top floor.”

  “Of course they did,” Scott muttered as they entered the elevator and he pushed the correct button. “I’m curious, this hotel must have cost a fortune to rent and you said there’d be food and drinks, so how do they actually raise funds for this worthy cause?”

  Heather’s eyes flicked away then moved back to him. “It’s five hundred dollars for a ticket. Most people who are coming will be expected to donate as well.”

  “Five hundred bucks a person? Holy shit. Do they take credit cards because I left my checkbook at home?”

  The elevator door opened and Heather slid her hand around his elbow. “This is my family’s party and you’re my date. You don’t need to worry about it.”

  She never actually said she got free tickets. Did she pay for them? Or her parents? Great. He was mooching off the rich now. It wasn’t just a tie.

  “I need to let my mother know I’m here,” she said, craning her neck to look through the room as it filled. “She’ll already be upset I wasn’t the first one here. I don’t need to piss her off more.”

  They wended their way through the people and Heather grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing tray. Tipping her head back, she took a healthy swig.

  “I thought you said you’d be staying sober tonight?” he teased, taking a smaller sip of his drink. “Didn’t we have plans for creating some great memories tonight?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I simply needed a little bit of instant courage before I spoke to my mom. She’s always a little high strung at these kinds of events.”

  “Then why does she do them?”

  “She says they’re expected of someone in her position. She’s very into appearances if you hadn’t noticed.”

  He had. He wouldn’t say it out loud. Never insult another person’s mother.

  “Heather,” Nicoletta Silva called out pleasantly as they approached. “It’s so nice of you to be here.”

  Scott didn’t know Heather’s mom all that well, but even he could read the word she was leaving out. Finally.

  “I would have been here earlier but with all my possessions gone…” She trailed off and kissed her mother’s cheek.

  “Mrs. Silva, it’s nice to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Scott. You also.” She presented her cheek for his soft kiss never even mentioning how he’d addressed her and that her husband had insisted he be less formal.

  “The place looks amazing. Heather says you do all the organizing yourself.” If he got her on another track, would she forget about chastising Heather for being late?

  “Yes, I do. I keep asking Heather to assist me but she’s always too busy with her little real estate business. And now this new building.” Replace the late speech with one of guilt.

  “You know, dear, Clifton is here tonight.”

  Who the hell was Clifton? Heather’s eyes widened and her smile was forced.

  “Wonderful. I’ll have to make it a point to say hello.”

  “He’s looking quite well, Heather. And from what I’ve heard he’s being prepped to take over for when his father retires soon.”

  Heather’s head tipped to the side bobbing up and down. “Fabulous. Mom, there’s a crowd of people heading this way who, I’m sure, want to speak with the hostess. We’ll let you get on with your duties.”

  Nicoletta’s gaze swiveled and she pasted on what Scott assumed was her good hostess smile. Taking Heather’s elbow, he steered her away into the throng of people then stopped.

  “Is that Judge Barlow? Why would she be here?” His gut clenched at the memory of his arraignment.

  Heather ran her hand down his arm. Was she trying to comfort him? “It’s not unusual. Most of them have some sort of political agenda. And the people here can help them fulfill it.”

  “The rich people you mean.”

  Heather rolled her eyes and started walking. Judge Barlow caught sight of her and waylaid them. God, what did she want?

  “Ms. Silva, Judge Mary Barlow.” The woman held her hand out, introducing herself. Heather shook it, her smile serene and curious. He could barely keep from growling at her.

  “My sister recently bought a house through you. Said you were fabulous at finding them exactly what they wanted.”

  Heather was all business. “I’m so glad they were satisfied. I do my best with what’s on the market.”

  The judge made a little small talk but kept glancing at him while she did. Yeah, you set my bail at half a million bucks, lady, and I was innocent.

  “I’m not sure if you remember my friend, Scott Holland,” Heather interrupted their conversation. “He was in your court recently.”

  “Totally innocent, of course,” Scott piped in, trying to keep his voice even. He’d have to get lessons from Heather and her mother. “Trumped-up charges by someone trying to put me out of business.”

  The woman looked uneasy and clasped her hands together. “Yes, I got word that the case had been dropped. I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realize the two of you were friends. The district attorney said she was looking into some new developments regarding this.”

  “Someone blew up my house. I’d say that was a new development.” Heather’s voice was still laced with syrup.

  “Oh, you poor thing. May I call you Heather? I’ll make sure this gets looked into further.”

  “Oh, the police are right on it,” Scott said. “I’m sure you don’t need to worry about a thing.”

  “Well, you know I’m running for Congress.” She addressed this to Heather, barely looking in his direction. “One of my platforms is getting the crime rate down in Connecticut.”

  Heather nodded. “That’s perfect. Perhaps you could start with the Prescott Street area in Menatuck. Scott and I have a building there we’re renovating and we’ve had some problems.”

  “I can put that at the top of my priority list.”

  Why was this woman being so agreeable? Did everyone suck up to rich people like this?

  “I’m wondering, Heather, if you could put in a good word for me
with your father? He’s very influential in the political arena. I certainly could use someone of his caliber giving me their support.”

  “I’d have to find the time first. This mill building problem we’re having is keeping me quite busy.”

  “Oh, certainly. I understand. I’m in tight with the sheriff and will make sure to get him working on this right away.”

  Heather’s smile was a mile wide. “I appreciate that. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I see my father waving at me.”

  Heather propelled him to the other side of the room but they didn’t see Domenic Silva along the way.

  “That was smooth. You never actually promised to say anything to your dad. We’ll see what kind of results we get in the neighborhood clean-up department.”

  “There’s a lot of give and take that goes on in these fundraisers. You have to know how to play the game.”

  “Apparently you’re very good at it.”

  “It’s just—”

  “Hey, Sugar Tush. You are looking sweet today.”

  Scott turned at the rich voice. An obvious playboy in a tux stood behind them, his eyes roaming Heather’s figure in a far too familiar manner. Who the hell did he think he was?

  Sighing, Heather faced the newcomer. “Hi, Clif.”

  * * * *

  The last thing Heather wanted right now was to deal with Clif. The man was an obnoxious boor who thought everyone should fall at his feet. Unfortunately, he moved closer to give her a kiss. If she slapped him now it would cause a scene. Not that she cared, but her mother would have a fit and be embarrassed, especially since the woman apparently wanted to push her and Clif back together. Not in this lifetime.

  Allowing the kiss, then pushing Clif’s wandering hand off her ass, she stepped back.

  “Clif, this is Scott Holland, my friend and business partner.” She’d love to introduce him as more but they hadn’t talked much about exactly what their relationship status was. Earlier he’d said something about them sleeping together. Was that all it was to him? It was beginning to feel like a whole lot more to her.

 

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