Devil's Gold

by Amanda McKinney

  Her coat slid to the floor, her sweater was pulled from her body. Her heart skipped a beat as he unhooked her bra.

  The cold air felt invigorating against her heated skin.

  Her breath caught as he squeezed her breasts, before grabbing her bare waist and lifting her off the boat, making her feel as though she weighed ten pounds. She wrapped her legs around him, her nipples rubbing against his chest, and kissed him madly as he carried her to the back.

  He laid her on the padded deck, and hastily pulled off her boots, her jeans, her silk panties—the aggressiveness driving her crazy. The cold wind swept over her skin as she watched him gaze down at her naked body, his chest rising and falling heavily. He kicked off his boots, tugged off his jeans, and slid out of his boxers. The dim light of the boat glowed around him, outlining his massive body. The sheer size of him would be terrifying in any other situation. With his eyes locked on hers, he crawled on top of her.

  His muscular body hovered over her, and for a moment, he just stared at her, making her stomach flip-flop, before crushing his lips against hers.

  His erection dangled above her bare stomach and she had to fight from taking a peek. The wet tip swept over her abdomen, as he slid his hand between her legs.

  He took her nipple into his mouth, nipped, and then sucked, while his fingertips traced her inner lips below. Her body flushed wet with desire. She widened her legs for him, aching for him to touch her sweet spot.

  His tongue slid up her neck, and as he licked her ear, his finger lightly ran over her clit, sending a jolt of electricity through her system. She groaned and tipped her head back as he began to rub tiny circles over her throbbing, swollen bud.

  The heat rose between her legs, the tingles intensifying on her delicate skin.

  He dipped his fingers deep inside her, and then glided his wet fingertips over her, again. Slowly, lightly, rubbing at first, and then faster and faster.

  The tingling turned into a throbbing—every muscle in her body began to tense.

  “Oh, Liam…”

  The sensation peaked and she arched her back as the orgasm ripped through her—a wave, over and over again.

  Finally, it stopped, and she opened her eyes, blinking away the disorientation.

  He stared down at her with a small smile on his lips, soaking in every second of her euphoria.

  She smiled, and in barely a whisper, said, “Wow…”

  He grinned and something sparked in his eye. “We’re not done.”

  She bit her lip as he nuzzled into her neck and whispered in her ear, “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  She widened her legs and tensed, feeling the sweet twinge of pain as he slid inside her. He pressed deep, paused, and in a breathy whisper said, “Oh my God, Dixie.”

  She wrapped her legs around him, thrusting her hips forward—giving him exactly what he wanted, which was every inch of her. She squeezed around him as he slid out, and glided back in.

  Goosebumps spread across her skin as they seamlessly moved together, with the soft rocking of the boat.

  His breath became heavy against her neck, his grip around her tightening.

  He pushed deeper, sliding in and out of her wetness.

  She dug her fingernails into his back.

  “Oh, Liam…”

  He thrust harder, faster—her clit throbbing against the friction of his skin.

  “Liam.” She screamed his name as her body released, for the second time.

  “Dixie,” he said at the same time, as his body tensed and he poured everything he had into her.

  He collapsed on top of her, sweaty, breathing heavily, and kissed her forehead before rolling off.

  Tiny snowflakes danced down from the dark sky as they lay next to each other.

  He turned and looked at her.

  She met his gaze, and for a moment, they stared at each other, a nonverbal understanding of what had just happened between them—not just the mind-blowing sex, but the connection, the chemistry, the raw passion that had sent fireworks exploding through their heads.

  CHAPTER 15

  It was just past eight o’clock by the time they arrived back at Black Rose. The snow had picked up, nearly doubling the time it took to get back to the office. It was a winter whiteout.

  As Dixie grabbed the door handle, Liam put his hand on her arm. She turned, looked at him—and somehow, he was even more attractive to her now.

  He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

  She smiled.

  Her body felt calm, loose, content. Her brain, like mush. Her heart, a steady beating with desire for the man who’d held her, made her feel safe, and had given her the most incredible, earth-shattering sex she’d ever had in her life.

  He smiled and turned off the engine.

  Dixie watched him unfold from the driver’s seat—her gaze trailing down to his perfect backside—before taking a deep breath to compose herself, and getting out. She grabbed the trash bag she’d swiped from Tanya’s front porch, and met Liam at the back door.

  “Anyone still here?”

  “I’m sure. We’re kind of a twenty-four-hour office around here.” She set the bag of trash on the patio and pushed open the door.

  It was quiet, still. Not even Ace’s television—that he always kept on—blared from upstairs.

  Liam looked around the large kitchen. “You know, this place isn’t that creepy. It’s beautiful, actually.”

  She tossed her purse on the table and smiled. “Thanks, I think so too. It’s perfect for us.”

  He helped her out of her jacket, lightly grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him.

  Butterflies, again.

  He smiled a soft smile, lightly touched her cheek, and kissed her, again.

  “I just had to do that one more time.”

  Feeling weightless, she opened her eyes and whispered, “One more.”

  He kissed her again.

  She smiled and pulled back. “Okay, now we have to get to work.”

  “Digging through the trash?”

  “Yep.”

  He wrinkled his nose.

  “I’m feeling lucky. The fact that it was sitting on the porch makes me think she had just set it out.”

  He cocked his head.

  “A little PI lesson—someone’s trash is a treasure trove of information. You wouldn’t believe what you can tell about someone from their trash… maybe something will lead me to whoever killed her.”

  “Okay, you have fun with that. I’ve got a few calls to make.” He paused. “How about I grab something for dinner before the town shuts down?”

  She started to protest, but realized she hadn’t eaten a thing since lunchtime.

  “Food sounds good, actually.”

  “Good. I’ll be back with dinner soon.”

  He kissed her again, and this time, pulled her to him and lifted her off her feet.

  ***

  Liam climbed into his truck, started the engine, and pulled his phone from the console.

  “You’ve reached Rick Parker, FBI, leave a message.”

  “Parker, it’s Liam. There’s been an escalation since we last spoke. I need you to run that list of names I gave you—the employees at Den Care Clinic, ASAP.” He paused. “I think Terra and Maria’s killer is here in Devil’s Den… I’ll give you the details as soon as you call me back, but I want you to dispatch a team out here immediately. Tonight. Call me back.”

  He clicked off the phone and blew out a breath.

  He had no doubt Dixie would be pissed as hell at him if she found out he informed the FBI of Lizzie and Tanya’s murders—they’d swoop in and take over, and she’d lose her case.

  But he didn’t care.

  From the moment he laid eyes on Dixie, he knew he had to have her—as his, as his own. His gut told him she wasn’t like anyone else, that she was something special. And the last hour had proven his instinct was right—he’d never, i
n his life, felt so connected to someone, so quickly.

  And hell on earth wasn’t going to take that away from him. He couldn’t risk her getting caught in the crosshairs of a brutal serial killer.

  Now he just had to figure out how to distract her, and keep her occupied until the FBI got to town.

  ***

  Dixie kneeled down and carefully laid the garbage bag on its side.

  “Wait, Dix, tarp first.” Raven pushed through the back door. “Wow, the snow has really picked up.”

  Dixie looked up, surprised. “Hey. I didn’t know you were still here.”

  “I was in my office. I was going to come out when I heard the door open, but I saw you had company—a six-foot-two hunk of sexy man-candy.” She winked. “So I stayed quiet.”

  Dixie felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

  Raven grinned. “Are we enjoying this man-candy?”

  Dixie exhaled, surprised at the sudden rush of emotions. “He’s only here for two weeks, Rave.”

  “That’s perfect for you then, right? No strings attached. Just have fun.”

  Dixie glanced down. Normally, that would be perfect for her—she could have fun with her new toy, or man-candy as Raven called him, and then say goodbye, never having to get emotionally attached.

  The problem was, she already felt attached—very attached.

  She shook her head and changed the subject. “It’s freezing out here. Go yell at Ace, tell him to bring out two of those portable heaters.”

  “Good call.” Raven stood, brushed off her pants, and yelled at Ace through the door. She kneeled back down and pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

  “Here we go.”

  Dixie sliced the trash bag down the center, and to her relief, it wasn’t as stinky as most. “Lucked out here.”

  Raven nodded enthusiastically. “Hell yeah we did. Remember Bart Labonsky’s trash?”

  Dixie wrinkled her nose. “How could I forget? That man had to have eaten three cans of sardines a day.”

  Raven squeezed her face and shook her head. “Sooo nasty.”

  Dixie leaned forward and began poking through. “Okay, so Tanya liked bananas, frozen dinners… gross, she was on her period… ah, here’s an electric bill.” She pulled out the piece of paper. “Late notice. Our girl was low on cash.”

  “Here’s another. Late on the cable bill, too.”

  “Yikes.” Dixie poked around some more, and plucked out a piece of bright silver foil. “What’s this?”

  Raven leaned forward. “Chateaux LaRouse?”

  Dixie’s eyebrows shot up. “We’re looking at the label of a four-hundred-dollar bottle of Champagne.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “It was on top too, so she’d just thrown it away.”

  “I don’t see the bottle.”

  “Recycle bin probably.”

  Dixie nodded.

  “Considering the late bills, where would Tanya get the money to buy a four-hundred-dollar bottle of Champagne?”

  Dixie sat back on her heels. “She didn’t. Our perp did.”

  “Huh?”

  “Whoever beat her to death.” She paused, in deep thought. “Our killer brought the Champagne.”

  Just then, her cell phone rang.

  “Dixie here.”

  “Dix, it’s Max. They brought us Tanya White’s body an hour ago and we dove right in. Guess what we found in her hair?”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No, not bullshit.”

  “Don’t tell me—the gold specks.”

  “Bingo.”

  Goosebumps prickled her skin. It was the first piece of real evidence linking the two bodies to the same murderer, and, potentially to the two additional murders in Liam’s hometown.

  Four women, bludgeoned to death, with mysterious specks of gold found in their hair—four women’s lives cut short by a merciless killer.

  She shook her head, processing the information.

  “Also, the pink hair tie that you got from Black Magic Balik—it’s Lizzie’s.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “You’ve hit me with two of those insults in the last twenty-four hours. Yes, I’m sure, I’m always sure. Her hair was wrapped around it. Solid DNA.”

  “So... gold specks on both bodies, and a witch hoarding one of the victim’s hair ties.”

  “I told you, voodoo… and maybe a little fairy dust to go along with that.”

  She glanced toward the dark woods, her mind reeling.

  “That’s all I have for you right now, will call when I get more info.”

  “Thanks, Max.”

  Click.

  Dixie shoved her phone into her pocket as Raven carefully pushed a used tissue to the side.

  She stood, contemplated.

  Raven cocked her head. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve got to go check something out. Will you have Ace pull the orders from Banshee’s Brew liquor store for that brand of Champagne? Someone special-ordered it, they don’t keep that on the shelves. Have him check for John and Suzie Blevins, and Marden Balik, specifically.”

  “Will do.”

  She turned, and Raven called out after her.

  “Dixie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To visit a witch.”

  Saw someone she wasn’t supposed to.

  Dixie replayed her conversation with Edward Rossi over and over in her head as she carefully navigated the slick roads.

  He’d told her that Lizzie was upset because she’d seen something, or someone, that she wasn’t supposed to, and the next morning, Lizzie had awakened to a dead, black cat on her doorstep. And then Lizzie went missing.

  Something was going on there, no question about it, and Dixie needed to find out what that was.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. Considering the new information regarding the hair tie, there was a connection between Black Magic Balik and Lizzie now, but what would be the connection between Tanya White and the witch?

  Dixie braked around a tight corner and slid on a patch of black ice. Her heart leapt through her chest.

  “Dammit.”

  She took a moment to compose herself, and then slowly accelerated, taking the next few miles extra slow. Finally, she pulled up to the cottages. She flicked off her headlights and parked next to the woods.

  All four houses were dark—not a light on in Balik’s.

  She grabbed her bag, got out of the truck, and yanked up her hood.

  What now? Knock on Balik’s door and ask if she murdered Lizzie, and Tanya?

  She took a deep breath, the ice-cold air burning her lungs. She quietly walked along the tree line, her boots sinking into the snow, and after taking a quick look around, she crept down the side of Balik’s cottage, paused and listened.

  Silence.

  No witch, no black cats, no hair ties.

  Her pulse picked up as she stepped onto the porch and noticed the back door was open, just a crack. Her stomach tickled with nerves—warning bells. She looked around, pulled her gun from her hip, and tiptoed to the door.

  Her heart pounded as she pushed open the door and listened—silence. She took a glance over her shoulder, and after a minute, stepped over the threshold and into the darkness.

  The moment her boot hit the kitchen floor, a flash of movement burst from the side.

  Tingles shot up her spine as she spun on her heel and raised her gun.

  A body lurched toward her, the clanging of chains vibrating through the air.

  Dixie jumped backward.

  “Get me out of here!” A weak, raspy voice called out.

  With her finger firmly on the trigger, she swallowed the knot in her throat, and said, “Who are you?”

  “I’m Agnes Balik. Marden’s sister.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Dixie’s eyes rounded in shock—she was staring at a woman who had been missing for forty years. As she opened her mouth to ask one of
the hundred questions zooming through her head, she heard movement behind her.

  She whipped around and pointed her gun at Marden Balik.

  Balik, dressed head-to-toe in black, stopped, and narrowed her beady eyes.

  Dixie tightened the grip on her gun. “Last time I checked, it wasn’t very hospitable to chain a houseguest to the wall, Ms. Balik.”

  “She’s no houseguest.” Her voice seethed with anger. “She’s a homewrecker who stole my husband from me.” Like a flash of lightning, Balik grabbed a knife from the counter and swung it at Dixie.

  Dixie dodged the blow, lunged forward, knocked the knife from Balik’s hand and pointed the gun at her head.

  “On your knees.”

  As she slowly kneeled, Balik’s eyes darkened and locked on Dixie’s.

  “On your stomach.”

  Balik began muttering a slow, rhythmic chant as she slid onto her front.

  Agnes covered her ears. “Might want to hurry, dear.”

  “What the hell is she singing?”

  “She’s cursing you.”

  Goosebumps prickled Dixie’s skin.

  “Might want to be extra careful tonight, dear.”

  Sirens screamed through the air as two police cars pulled up to the cottages.

  Dixie met Zander at the front door.

  “Where is she?”

  “I’ve got Balik hog-tied on the kitchen floor, and Agnes is sitting calmly at the kitchen table—she’s chained to the wall, courtesy of Balik.”

  Zander called out over his shoulder to a nearby officer. “They’re in the kitchen!” He turned back to Dixie and shook his head in disbelief. “Marden Balik has had her sister locked up in that house for forty damn years.”

  “For having an affair with her husband.”

  “Evil witch.” He paused. “An evil witch who lives next door to a girl who was just beaten to death…”

  Dixie shook her head. “Marden Balik isn’t our killer.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Agnes swears Marden never left the house Monday night, or today. Which means she couldn’t have killed Lizzie, or Tanya.”

  “What about the hair tie you found?”

  “How the hell do you know about that?”

  Zander grinned. “Max sure does love his Caramel Macchiatos.”