by Ana Medeiros
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“If you and I are working together—” Meredith paused, shaking her head. “We really shouldn’t.”
“Because we’re two adults who are attracted to each other? Because we are both honest enough to admit to it and take it for what it is?” Isaac reached for her wine glass and touched the red smudge left by her lipstick with the pad of his thumb. “But if you tell me, right now, you don’t want anything sexual to happen between us, then I’ll stop.”
Meredith stared at the way his finger caressed the rim of her wine glass, where her lips had just been. She raised her eyes to him and smiled.
“You’re smart. Driven. Successful. I admire you.” Meredith touched the other side of her wine glass, her fingers not far from his. She then circled the edge of the glass with her fingers, until they touched his, and caressed the space between his thumb and index finger.
“Why did you change your mind about the piece?” he asked.
They were at The Office, the speakeasy-style bar below The Aviary in West Loop. They shared a table in one of the softly lit nooks. The atmosphere was intimate, and with fewer than twenty people around them, Meredith and Isaac didn’t have to struggle to hear each other.
“I found out there are others. So far five women have been murdered.”
Isaac sighed. “And this conversation just became really depressing.”
“Maybe there are more victims. I’m not sure. Only the last one was ruled a homicide. The others were considered accidental deaths.” Meredith thought of the folder Colton had found hidden on Pam’s desk. “The women were poor, uneducated, with hardly any friends or family. They were living their lives unnoticed, and whoever is killing them knows this. For a while, I thought I’d uncover information on the murders, share it with the police. But they’re covering it up, Isaac. That’s why I need to write the piece. It’s the only way people will know about these women. I hope they’ll demand justice.”
“It’s easy for the police to shove these deaths under the rug. The general public isn’t aware of the existence of the club. You found out because of the man who took you there, and I came across it thanks to Glendon. Within the police force, anyone who knows what’s going on is either corrupt or too afraid to do anything about it. It’s easier to look the other way.”
Meredith didn’t believe fear would stop Pam.
“How about the man who took you to the club? Did you tell him you’ve decided to pursue the piece?”
Isaac’s question made Meredith order another glass of wine.
“Not yet. He was romantically involved with the last woman that got killed. Now is not a good time. The piece is no longer about him. It has nothing to do with him, actually. It’s about these women and the club. But once it’s done and ready to go out, I’ll tell him. When do you need it by?”
“In two months. Plenty of time. We’ll find Glendon’s journals.”
“What if we don’t?”
“Do you have enough material to make it a good piece?”
“If those journals hold the information you believe they do, they’ll certainly help.”
“All of Glendon’s files are still in storage. I’m sure no one remembers they’re still there. I’ll bring them to my place and we can go through them together.”
“Is there a lot?” Meredith asked. “You said he worked there for more than fifteen years.”
“Only a few boxes, but I could be wrong. The man was a pack rat.”
“Have you told anyone about me and the piece?”
Isaac reached for his Barley Wine. “I haven’t. You?”
“Besides my professor? My stepmother. But that was a while ago.” Meredith couldn’t mention Pam without feeling resentment.
“How did you find out about these murders?”
She paused. “Different sources. I’d rather not say.”
“You don’t have to. Not to me or anyone else. Are they reliable?”
“I know what I’ve seen with my own eyes. And yes, they are reliable.” Meredith decided to bring up something that had been bothering her. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew my father?”
Isaac didn’t hesitate. “It wasn’t important and it still isn’t.”
“Is he the reason you’re interested in the piece? Why you’ve been trying to help my career?”
“No, Meredith. This”—he pointed at her and then himself—“has nothing to do with your father. Did you two talk about me?”
“Recently we had lunch and he mentioned an acquaintance of his saw us together. I wish you had told me.”
“It didn’t occur to me that you’d care. I enjoy spending time with you, and your piece has value to me. Can we focus on that?” Isaac asked.
Meredith wanted to work with Isaac, enough to believe him when he assured her that her father wasn’t the reason why he had shown interested in her work.
“Yes, let’s do that,” she replied.
“Good.” He sounded relieved. “Be smart, Meredith. Finish the piece. Do your best. But don’t take unnecessary risks, got it?”
“I have no desire to get hurt.”
“Maybe if you told the man who took you to the club about the piece he could help you gather information. Perhaps he saw Lena or the other women there.”
“Maybe.” She had no plans to involve Julian in her research. She had yet to find out who owned the necklace she had discovered in Julian’s drawer.
They finished their drinks, and Meredith wondered if maybe they already had too much alcohol. She certainly felt it.
“My place, your place, or we each grab a cab home.” He reached inside his wallet and pulled out his credit card.
“I’m paying for the check,” Meredith said, opening her purse.
“I’m not letting you pay for it.” Isaac glanced at the total and made a face. “It’s bloody expensive.”
“I can afford it.” It was her father’s money, but she didn’t dwell on it. “And this isn’t a date, so in reality we should be splitting the check. But you can make it up to me.”
“In that case you have to come to my place.”
“OK.”
Isaac raised an eyebrow. “That’s all I had to do?”
“What?”
“Let you pay for the check?”
“I want to sleep with you. All you have to do is want to sleep with me, too.” The bartender returned with the card and Meredith signed the receipt.
“You know I do.”
“Be forewarned, it’ll backfire on you,” Meredith said as they walked, side by side, out of The Office.
“I can’t see how that’s possible.” Isaac wrapped his arm around her waist and Meredith leaned closer to him.
“Tomorrow morning you’ll wake up and won’t be able to remember the last time you enjoyed yourself so much.” She smelled the alcohol on his breath. “But then you’ll have a realization—I’m not yours.”
They were standing on the edge of the sidewalk, trying to flag down a taxi, and his laughter carried down the street.
“I’ll want you to be mine, huh?” he asked.
“We always want the best toy in the store.”
A taxi pulled over and Isaac opened the door for her. As she was getting into the cab, he brought his lips to her ear. “I always get what I want,” he whispered.
• • •
“Is your place always this pristine?” Meredith sauntered, barefoot, across Isaac’s industrial loft. She enjoyed the feeling of the smooth concrete against the soles of her feet.
“I was hoping you’d agree to come back to my place.” Isaac opened one of the windows and soft city sounds filled the small loft. “I tidied up a bit.”
As Meredith climbed onto his bed she pointed to the neatly stacked pile of magazines and newspapers on his night table. “You’re a literary guy. I like it.”
“More of a words guy. I haven’t read a novel in forever.”
“That�
��s a shame.”
“Are you a literary girl?”
“When I’m not busy writing about dead women.”
He lay down beside her. “Can I kiss you?”
Why was he asking her if he could kiss her? No one had ever asked her that before and she felt awkward answering. Instead, she leaned toward him and initiated the kiss. As soon as their lips touched and her tongue caressed his, she knew that Isaac would be the type of lover she rarely sought out—cautious, a bit uncertain, an over-thinker. It surprised her, since up until now he had been flirting boldly.
She took hold of Isaac’s hand and directed it to her breast, hoping the gesture would encourage him to be more assertive. She wanted to feel his touch under her dress, his fingers tugging on her nipples. His just-out-of-the-shower scent—clean and fresh—together with the heat of his body, made her want to rip the clothes off of him, lick every inch of him.
“Should I turn off the light?” Isaac asked, breaking the kiss.
“No. I like it on.”
They continued to kiss, but his hands refused to venture further. She craved more of him and, unbuttoning his shirt, she caressed his chest and stomach. She fondled him over his jeans.
“Is this OK?” His hands had finally found her naked breasts.
Frustrated, Meredith nodded. “If there’s anything you do that I’m not into I’ll let you know.”
She got off the bed and started to undress, slowly. After pulling the straps off her shoulders, her silk dress slid down her torso, past her hips, and pooled at her feet. Her matching bra and panties came off next. Seeing Isaac ready for her compelled Meredith to touch herself. She wanted to show him how his arousal fed hers.
Approaching the bed, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her core, guided his fingers inside of her. “You make me wet.”
She got on her knees and unzipped his jeans after unbuckling his belt.
“You don’t have to do this.” He had propped himself on his elbows to watch her pleasure him.
“I know. I want to.”
She took him deep into her mouth, all the way, and she only pulled back when she needed air. She did this several times, enjoying the heaviness of him on her tongue and how well he filled her throat.
“Stop, stop, please stop. I’m gonna come if you don’t.”
“Finish in my mouth. You can fuck my pussy in the next round.”
“I can’t get hard again so soon.”
“I’m in no rush.”
“I’d rather have your pussy.”
Putting her annoyance aside, Meredith got to her feet and wiped the saliva off her chin. “Where do you keep your condoms?”
“In the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
Meredith got a good view of Isaac’s ass he undressed and then rushed across the loft. He had the body of a sprinter—strong legs, impressive upper back muscles, and broad shoulders. He was probably one the most attractive men she had seen naked, if not the most attractive, but while he knew how to use his brain to lure women into his bed, he didn’t know how to use his body to keep them there.
He returned, already wearing a condom and Meredith had to look away so not to laugh. While she did believe in safe sex, she didn’t want to stare at a condom any longer than necessary.
Isaac crawled on top of her and nudged her legs apart with his. She wanted him to slow down but suspected more foreplay wouldn’t suddenly make the experience enjoyable.
He entered her and then stopped. “Does this feel OK?” He waited for her reply.
“Uh-huh.” He did feel good but each of his questions took her out of the moment. “Just fuck me, Isaac.”
Responding to her demand, he began to thrust. Seconds later, he let out a soft moan by her ear. He then stopped moving.
“Are you done?” she asked, unsure.
He rolled off of her and she lay there, staring at the white ceiling, his fast breathing a stark contrast to her steady heartbeat.
“Meredith?”
He moved her hair off her face and they locked eyes.
“That wasn’t very good, was it?”
Truth without tact is cruelness and Meredith had no right to treat Isaac poorly.
“You have a gorgeous body and your cock feels incredible.” She gave him the warmest smile she could muster. “Maybe we’re just not compatible in bed. That’s OK.”
“I’m sorry, Meredith.” Isaac fell back onto the bed. “Jesus, everything about you is so damn sexy and I fucking blew it.”
“No you didn’t. It happens to everybody. At least once.”
“Wow, you’re actually nice.”
Suddenly, they both chuckled and the serious tone of their conversation dissipated.
“Is it OK if I hang out for a bit?” She wasn’t just being considerate. Isaac made her laugh and she enjoyed his company.
“Of course. I want you to.”
“What would you like to do now?”
“Drink?”
“Yes, please.”
• • •
Meredith rolled over and her face landed against a stubbly chin. Startled, she opened her eyes and realized she was not alone. Cursing, she quickly sat up, the whole room spinning around her.
“You’re brave. I’m afraid to move. Feels like my skull has been invaded by garden gnomes and they’re gnawing on my brain.”
Meredith glanced at Isaac over her shoulder. “Garden gnomes?”
“I’ve always had a fear of garden gnomes.”
She wanted to laugh but she was too hungover. “Now I know your weakness.”
“If you ever use that knowledge against me I’ll have to do horrible things to you.”
Meredith realized that they were both naked, on top of the covers. She let her face fall into her hands. “How much did we drink last night?
“We finished off all of my bourbon.”
“I remember us drinking but then”—Meredith frowned—“it all goes black. That’s never happened to me before.” She moved her head too quickly and that made her feel sicker. She took a couple of deep breaths and willed herself to push through the dizziness.
“At one point you tried tying me to the bed and that’s when I started getting scared.” Isaac sat up beside her and she glared at him. “That was a joke,” he added, straight-faced.
“I still haven’t located my sense of humor. Or my memory.”
They sat on the bed in silence. Meredith exhaled with relief when he didn’t kiss her. She didn’t feel sexy. She hid her face against his chest and Isaac rested his cheek on top of her head.
“Do you remember what we talked about when we were pounding back the bourbon?”
His question jolted her. “No. Why?”
He didn’t reply, and Meredith’s head started to hurt more. She got up and put on her underwear. She found her wrinkly dress under the bed and slipped it over her head.
“I would offer you coffee but I suspect you’ll say no.” Isaac watched her from the bed.
“I need to go home, shower, and start my day. I have a piece to write, remember?”
Meredith got a glimpse of her reflection in the wall mirror by the entrance door and almost gasped. Embarrassment over her disheveled appearance made her turn away from the mirror.
“Meredith?” Isaac called out from across his loft. “This Julian…be careful, OK?”
Meredith almost dropped her purse. She stood, mouth agape, staring at Isaac.
“I don’t know if you’re the best toy in the store but you’re for sure the coolest,” he continued. “If anything happens to you, I’ll make sure he regrets it.”
Chapter 19
“Are these it?”
Meredith and Isaac stood in the corner of his living room with barely enough space to move, staring at twenty cardboard boxes.
“How can one person have enough stuff at his desk to fill so many boxes?” She shook her head with amazement.
“Most of these are books, but I imagine there’s a lot of garbage in there. I
told you the man was crazy.”
“And we’re looking for his journals? Which we hope are filled with information on a sex club shrouded in secrecy?”
“We have to give it a shot.” Isaac reached for one of the boxes. “If those journals are here you should at least read what’s in them.”
Meredith sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Are they labeled? Organized in any specific order? By year, maybe?” She suspected she knew the answer but hoped she was wrong. She didn’t want to go through all of those bulging cardboard boxes.
“No shortcuts, I’m afraid. We’ll have to go through them all. One by one.”
“These damn journals better be in there. And they better be worth it.”
“I had to sneak these boxes out of storage, put them in my car, and haul them up four flights of stairs. And, I had to do all of that more than once, because as you can see, there’s a hell of a lot of them. So how about you say: Thank you, Isaac, for all your hard work. Let’s get to it.”
She almost told him to fuck off but she reconsidered before the words crossed her lips. “I’m sorry. I’m not being a team player. I’ve been in a foul mood since our drunken night last week. Too much going on.”
Isaac started going through a box. “The draft you sent got me thinking that we should publish the piece sooner than we had discussed.”
“Why? How soon?”
“September.”
“That’s a month away. I need more time.”
“Think about it. Glendon packed up and went to wrestle crocodiles—”
“He didn’t go wrestle crocodiles,” Meredith interjected.
“He went somewhere, let’s just say that. Assuming the research in his journals goes back ten, fifteen years, that’s an excellent foundation for your piece. You talk about what was happening with The Raven Room at that time, and then, because you’ve been to the club, you layer in what the place is like now, the type of people you’ve seen there, what they do. Next, you bring up the deaths of the women, how they were killed, how they’re connected to The Raven Room. You link it to the police cover-up of the murders. That’s all you need. That’s your piece, right there.”
“You’re assuming we’ll find the journals. What if we don’t? Or what if we do, but they’re just the ramblings of a mad man?”