by CJ Birch
“Are you going to open up? I come with gifts.”
Elle looked behind her at the patio door, wondering if she slipped out the back maybe Robin would go away.
She stood and placed her beer on the table a few inches to the right of the coaster. There was no time to clean. The place had gone to pot the last few days. The sink was full of cereal bowls and glasses. The counter had three days’ worth of Chicago Sun-Times strewn across the top. Three days’ worth of bras hung over the couch. She grabbed those and threw them toward her room. At least she’d made an effort.
She smoothed the front of her tank top. A large amount of cleavage peeked over the top and she wondered if she should change. Before Elle could decide, she heard another knock. A different-sounding knock. Like a knuckle on glass. She turned to the backyard. Robin was leaning against the patio frame door. She was in tight jeans and a peasant blouse. The neck was off-kilter, exposing gorgeous skin. Robin’s mouth curved into a crooked grin. That grin alone was enough to make Elle’s mouth go dry.
“Were you ever going to open up?” Robin held up a paper bag with Torrini’s written in brown letters along the front and waved it back and forth. “I brought food.” In the other hand she held up a bottle of red wine. “I thought you could use some booze after the week you’ve had. And from what I’ve heard from Tully, if you’re going to eat at Torrini’s, you should be sauced to enjoy it.”
It took Elle a moment to refocus. “Um?”
“Don’t worry, it’s cold pasta salad.”
“It’s not that. I think you’ll find better company at Finnegan’s.”
“Nah.” Robin’s eyes skimmed Elle’s bare legs. She strode inside and placed the bag of food on the kitchen counter. “So. I heard.”
“About EJ?”
“Sandy told me.” She tilted her head back, thinking. “And, if I have this right, Sandy heard it from Tully who heard it from Neil, who was there when it happened.”
Elle took a second to admire Robin’s long neck and wondered how it would feel to press her lips to the exposed skin. Robin dropped her head and their eyes locked. If possible, the temperature in the place rose a few degrees as the moment held.
Elle broke first, turning to the cupboard. “That sounds about right.” She pulled down a couple of plates. “You want a beer?”
Robin held up the bottle of red in answer.
“Okay, but you’re on your own with that,” Elle said.
“I can’t stand beer and the only place around here that sells wine is Earl’s Gas and Gulp. I’m guessing this is the Gulp part of the name. Do you have a corkscrew?”
Elle tapped the lid of the bottle playfully. It was a screw cap.
“Figures. That’s what you get for trusting Earl when he recommends a,” she read the front of the bottle, “2016 red wine.”
“Good year.”
“Mmm. Maybe it’ll explode if I open it.”
“I wouldn’t risk it.”
Robin grinned, showing beautiful white teeth and dimples. “I’ve always liked living on the wild side.” She flicked her bangs to the side in a move that was both self-assured and mesmerizing.
Without taking her eyes off her, Elle reached up and grabbed a wineglass. Robin poured a purplish liquid into the glass. Glad she’d declined, Elle retrieved her beer off the coffee table. It was already piss warm.
They clinked glasses and took sips. Robin’s whole body shuddered. She put her glass on the counter. “Maybe it just needs to breathe a little.”
Elle laughed.
“I had no idea wine could taste this bad.”
“I think I have some vodka or something somewhere.” Elle went in search of something more palatable. “While I’m scouting your liquor options, why don’t you unpack the food?”
Robin was happy to oblige. “So how is EJ anyway?”
Elle shrugged, her head half hidden in a bottom cupboard. “He’s refusing to speak to me.” She shifted through years of stored junk. This had been her parents’ liquor cabinet, but Elle didn’t drink anything other than beer, so it wasn’t stocked. “Here we go.” Elle stood, holding a bottle of mescal. It had a cartoon picture of a red worm carrying a jug in a cloth slung from its head. “The way he’s acting you’d think I’d arrested him.”
“He’ll get over it. They always do. You’re family.” Robin eyed the bottle Elle placed on the counter next to her wineglass. “You’re not going to make me drink this alone, are you?”
Elle made a disgusted face. “Yeah, you’re on your own.” She lifted her beer to her lips. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’m ahead of you by two drinks.” She drank the last of her beer and dropped it into a box next to the fridge.
As Elle grabbed another beer from the fridge, Robin turned to the television in time to see the final reveal on Murder, She Wrote.
“I used to love this show as a kid.” Robin wandered closer. “I haven’t seen it in years.” When it switched to a commercial, she picked up a picture from the mantel. In it, a young girl, tongue stuck out, sat on a man’s shoulders. “You and your dad?” she asked.
Elle peered at the picture over Robin’s shoulder. “Yeah.”
Robin picked up another. Elle’s parents were standing next to a barbecue, her dad wearing an apron and holding a spatula, her mom hugging him around the waist. Her mom’s red hair spilled out of her ponytail, framing her face.
“How old were you when they died?”
Elle took the picture and replaced it on the mantel. “Let’s eat.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down.”
Elle sighed. She had to remember that Robin wasn’t there to write a story about her. That should make talking to her easier and in some ways it did, but she’d never been good at talking about this.
“I was twenty-one. And that was it. The world collapsed. I came home from school to look after EJ. He was only ten and I had no idea what I was doing. One minute I was attending parties, finding out who I was away from this place, about to graduate, and the next…”
“I can’t imagine having my world upend like that.”
Elle straightened the picture of her parents, then shrugged and turned. “It was a long time ago.” She took a sip of her beer. “Why don’t we eat outside? It’s cooler.”
“With the bugs?”
“They won’t steal your food.”
Robin shuddered. “That’s not what I’m worried about. Mosquitos love me.”
“Don’t scratch. It’ll go down by morning.”
“That easy, huh?”
Elle placed their plates on a small table outside and flicked her hand toward the trees. “I grew up in the middle of a forest. You’re never more than a five-minute walk from being deep in the woods. You learn to get used to it.”
“No bug spray? Citronella candles?”
Elle slapped Robin’s knee. “I have something better.” She disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a small clear container and handed it to a skeptical Robin. “One of the girls at the salon makes it.”
“What is it?”
“Natural bug repellent. It works and doesn’t smell like you’ll burst into flames.”
“The last time I was in the woods, I was fourteen and camping with my family.” That wasn’t entirely true. There had been that one assignment a couple of years ago. She’d almost forgotten about it. From the beginning, it had been nothing but trouble. She’d followed this guy to northern Michigan where her car had broken down. The nearest service station had been miles away. She’d gotten eaten alive. There was something about her blood. Mosquitos loved her blood.
Later, Elle asked, “So do you get home to see your family a lot? You said they live in Evanston, right?”
Robin slid her plate away. They’d made small talk through dinner. As easy as it had been, she couldn’t keep her eyes off Elle. Her legs, one curled under her as she sat facing Robin, her arms, which moved constantly while she talked, and her eyes as they scanned every part of Robin.
She could feel the pull deep in the pit of her stomach. It was delicious in its intensity. She had this need to touch every part of Elle. From the moment she’d met her, there was this string of desire pulling her in, but it had been manageable. Something she could deny herself in order to complete her assignment. Ever since that kiss in the basement of the Maverty house, the pull had grown stronger, and she found it impossible to stop herself.
Robin leaned close to Elle, never taking her eyes off those deep emeralds. Their lips were inches apart when Robin reared back and yelped. “Goddamnit.” She scratched at her arm. Elle covered Robin’s hand, stopping her.
“It’ll just make it worse.” She stood and pulled Robin to her feet. “Come inside.”
As she followed close behind, Robin felt a little intoxicated. Even though she’d barely touched the mescal, there was a heaviness to her legs. Her desire had begun to spread through her whole body, reaching to the tips of her fingers and slowly melting down to her toes.
As soon as the screen door was shut, she grabbed Elle by the waist and spun her around. She slammed her against the wall. Elle let out a cry of surprise, which melded into a moan as their lips met. There was no taking it slow. This wasn’t the sensual kiss from the Maverty house. This was possessive and rough.
Elle’s hands found their way under Robin’s top, her fingers gripping hot skin as they slid down the back of her jeans.
Robin pulled away, out of breath. “Jesus fucking Christ. We better move this somewhere more comfortable unless you want me to fuck you against this wall.”
Elle grinned and circled her wrist. She led Robin through the hall into her bedroom, which wasn’t much cooler than the rest of the house but had a ceiling fan, making it bearable. Robin stopped to pick up one of the discarded bras on their way. Her brow raised in question.
Elle shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
With a smirk, Robin said, “I can go if you’d like?”
Elle didn’t answer. Instead she pulled Robin into her room, shoved her on the bed, and straddled her.
There was no slowing this down. Even if Elle wanted to, she couldn’t stop herself. It was like she was possessed to touch, feel, taste. She yanked Robin’s jeans open and slid her hand inside, running her fingers over the fabric of Robin’s thong. Robin began to thrust her hips. Her head fell back onto the bed, exposing her neck. Elle ran her tongue from the base of Robin’s shoulder to the edge of her jaw. She pulled aside the fabric of Robin’s panties. They both groaned when Elle’s fingers slid along Robin’s wet folds. Elle kept the pace steady, enjoying the heat spreading through her own body but mostly the look in Robin’s eyes, half-lidded as she watched Elle.
Before she went too far, Elle pulled back. She needed to see more. She pulled at the edge of Robin’s top, hauling it over her head. Underneath, she was wearing a white lace strapless bra with light blue polka dots. Elle reached around and flicked it open with one hand.
Robin’s brows rose. “Impressive.”
Elle’s laugh was muffled as she bent to pay more attention to Robin’s long neck. She sucked at the soft skin, stopping at her collarbone before heading south again. The only other interruption was when Elle stopped to yank Robin’s jeans down. They were inside out by the time they hit the bedroom floor.
Elle nestled herself between Robin’s thighs, running her hands over the exposed skin of her inner thighs. Goose bumps rose in their wake. She started slow, taking Robin’s left nipple into her mouth, sucking it, rolling it around her tongue. When Robin’s hips started to lift in rhythm, Elle switched to the other nipple.
Robin’s head rose off the bed. When their eyes met, she licked her lips. “Stop playing,” she said.
Without breaking eye contact, Elle skimmed her fingers through Robin’s folds before slipping inside. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so connected, so in the moment. There was something hypnotic about this dance of give and take. She’d forgotten how much she’d missed it.
Robin came alive the moment she entered her. Her body arched off the bed, her eyes met Elle’s and stayed there as she rode each wave. She clutched the sheets, twisting the fabric as she rode the final crest.
After, she lay very still, hands still twisted in the sheets, catching her breath. “I’d say well done, but I don’t think that covers it.”
Elle collapsed beside her. She couldn’t describe what she felt at that moment. It was more than content. She felt like she’d come home somehow.
Robin propped herself up on an elbow and leaned over Elle, watching her. She snaked her hand under Elle’s tank top and lifted it. She stopped when she got halfway.
“What the fuck happened to your ribs?”
Elle looked down at the yellowing purple circling her midsection. She’d forgotten how bad it looked. It wasn’t nearly as painful as it had been a couple days ago. “I ran into a tree.”
“More like several.” She skimmed the faint marks on Elle’s neck with her fingertips. “Is this when you got the rest of these decorations?”
Elle shivered. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Elle leaned in pressing her lips to Robin’s. “More than you know.”
That was all the incentive Robin needed. She pulled Elle’s cutoffs down her legs and dropped them onto the floor. Elle was wearing black bikinis. The dark contrasted against the creamy white of Elle’s thighs. Robin ripped those off too, throwing them toward the headboard.
Robin didn’t wait for an invitation or plea. She pushed Elle’s thighs apart until Elle’s knees rested on the bed and ran her tongue up the inside of her thighs.
Elle’s fingers gripped the duvet in anticipation. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Twenty-six
At six in the morning, Elle jerked awake. She was alone and naked in her bed, tangled in the sheets. She didn’t remember Robin leaving, but she must have because there was a note on her pillow.
Elle opened the folded paper. You make a great muse. Sorry I had to skip out early, but I got some much-needed inspiration.
Elle tried not to feel too disappointed. She wasn’t the type for one-night stands and she wasn’t sure what Robin was, but this didn’t feel like a one-night stand. She wished Robin had at least stayed the night. Waking up with a warm body snuggled up behind her was one of the better memories Elle had of college. Looking over at the empty pillow, it was like a deep chasm had opened in front of her and she could see every morning ahead of her just like this one, waking up alone.
Then she remembered what day it was. She stared at the ceiling fan. “Fuck.” It was the day of the Beer and Berry Festival.
Her cell buzzed on the nightstand. It was Neil. She put him on speaker as she collected her things before heading to the shower.
“Hey, Neil. What’s up?”
“I know it’s early, but are you on your way in?”
“I’ll be there in about half an hour. Is it urgent?”
“Yeah, I’d get here as soon as you can.”
Damn. She’d bet Brady was already harassing her deputies. That was all she needed this morning. She showered as quickly as she could before throwing on her uniform and heading into the station.
When Elle walked in, she was surprised to see Neil sitting at the front desk by himself.
“Where’s Brady?”
“Besides up my ass?” He pointed down the street. “He’s called four times already. But that’s not what I called you in for.” He handed her a sheet of paper. “You remember that bike Kate found? She sent me the plates to run and it belongs to a Jennifer Trafford.”
Elle looked at the picture on the driver’s license. She looked back up at Neil.
“Look familiar?” he asked.
She looked down again, but couldn’t believe it. Staring back at her from the Illinois driver’s license was Robin Oakes’s face. Her heart kicked into a steady beat against her chest as she tried to figure out what this meant. Robin had given them a fake name. Why
? She rushed to her desk. She needed to verify what she thought she already had.
Neil was right behind her. “I already called. The magazine doesn’t exist. The website’s fake. A good fake, but according to Whois, the domain was created only a few days ago.”
Elle crumpled the paper.
“What do you think this means? You think she’s involved somehow?” Neil asked.
Elle put her hand to her neck. Her key. She’d looked this morning but figured it had gotten tangled in her clothes on the floor. And she’d been short on time. She figured she’d go back for it at lunch. Elle turned toward the giant Cary safe behind her. Inside was over a hundred grand.
“Shit.” Was that why Robin was here? But how could she have known about the money before they found it? Unless she was the one there to collect it? “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you check to see if there were any hits on Jennifer Trafford?”
“So far nothing. It might not even be her real name.”
“Goddamnit!” Elle threw the wad of paper against the wall. The sound it made was too unsatisfactory so she kicked the leg of her desk, which gave a good thud.
“What’s going on, Elle?”
“Give me some time to think. Can you take charge of the festival today? Make sure everyone knows their assignments?”
“Of course. You want some coffee?”
Elle nodded, the phone already in her hand, ready to make the first call of many.
By the time Elle had finished her fourth cup of coffee, she’d phoned the Franklin lab, followed up with the staties at dispatch, and called in every favor she could. As far as she could tell, Robin Oakes was a ghost. She only existed on paper. So much of this still didn’t make sense. It was possible Jennifer Trafford worked for Sedona and she’d been sent to kill Jessie. But then why was she still here?
The only thing she did know for sure was that Robin Oakes didn’t exist and wasn’t a reporter writing a story for some magazine.