by Kira Chase
Frankie observed him while he used his charms on Johanna. She didn’t like him. She’d made that early assessment the minute she’d laid eyes on him. He was too cocky for her taste. Granted he was good looking with short dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, a firm jaw and a well-proportioned body, narrow hips and broad shoulders. Every inch of his visible flesh rippled with hard muscles. His smile was easy and seducing. She could see why a woman would fall for him. But once he opened his mouth, his phoniness was apparent. He was a player, and players she despised with a passion. She watched Bunson’s hand become friendly with Johanna’s knee. Her face grew warm and her territorial instinct set in.
Johanna caught her eye and winked. “So what type of program do you recommend?” she asked with a sexy lilt in her voice. “That is, if I were looking for a trainer.”
His mouth curved up into a smile as his eyes drifted to her chest and then back to her eyes. “Just some toning to start with. Your body looks like a piece of art,” he murmured.
Frankie coughed softly to keep from laughing.
“I’ll bet you say that to all the women who come in here,” Johanna cooed, batting her eyes at him.
“No. Cross my heart.” He made the sign of the cross over his heart. “I’m not, as a rule, usually this forward, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a beautiful woman.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’d like to set you up with a workout routine. Would you like to discuss the details over a drink? I’ll be finished in about ten minutes if you can stick around.”
Johanna turned to Frankie. “What do you think? Do you want to wait?”
Before Frankie could reply, Bunson jumped in, looking sharply into Frankie’s eyes. “I’m sure you won’t mind if your friend and I go out for a drink. Tomorrow evening, if you’re interested, I can squeeze you in at seven o’clock and discuss a workout plan for you, too.”
“I told you that we do everything together, Joe,” Johanna said.
“Okay, then. The more the merrier.” He smiled, then stood up. “I know an intimate little bar a few doors down. It’s The—”
“Cut the crap, Bunson,” Frankie said.
“Excuse me?” He shot her a disapproving look. “Loosen up. If you don’t, your beautiful face will wrinkle prematurely.” He snorted as he turned back to Johanna. “Is your friend always this protective of you?” After the words were out of his mouth, a strange look appeared on his face and he slapped his forehead. “Oh man, I get it! You two have a little thing going on.” He slowly nodded. “I could really get into this.”
Frankie’s jaw muscle twitched. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe she’s just not interested in you?”
He smirked. “No. And until she tells me herself, I think you should mind your own business.”
Johanna tilted her head in his direction. “Well then, sweetie, I’m going to tell you…I’m not interested and maybe the management should be made aware of your underhanded tactics to get new clients.”
His back stiffened. “Most of the women who come in here enjoy the attention. I’m just doing my job drumming up memberships.”
“Which entails seducing potential clients?” Johanna asked.
His jaw dropped. “That’s a terrible thing to accuse someone of. I felt a special chemistry between us. If your friend wasn’t here, I’m sure your reaction would have been different. If I’m going to be working one on one with someone I like to ensure we’re compatible. Who wants to work with someone you can’t stand?”
“I agree that I wouldn’t want to work with you, but I’ve never heard of a trainer cozying up with a potential client. You’re a sleaze, Bunson,” Frankie stated.
“What crawled up her ass?” he asked Johanna.
Frankie tried to keep her temper in check, but this arrogant piece of garbage rankled her. “Definitely not what you shoved into Cassandra McHenry’s,” she stated. He looked like he’d just been punched in the stomach. She smiled smugly. “What’s the matter, lover boy? Cat got your tongue?”
He paled. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. What are you—sleaze reporters trying to get a story? Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops!” He stood up.
“I’m sure the sheriff has all ready questioned you. We know that you were fooling around with Cassandra,” Johanna said, flashing her ID card in his face. “We’re investigating her death. Where were you last night?”
His eyes narrowed. “What the fuck! You think you can play me and maybe I’ll confess to her murder? What a joke! I don’t have time to sit here and listen to a couple of PIs playing wannabe cops,” he replied sarcastically “Quit wasting my time. Fucking cunts.”
“You have a choice, Bunson. You can either talk to us or Sheriff Ryker about your affair with Cassandra McHenry,” Frankie said. “I’m betting you left that fact out of your statement. The choice is yours.”
He looked at them for a few seconds, then slumped back down in his chair. With the back of his hand he swept the perspiration from his brow. “Who told you about me and Cassandra?” he demanded. “Was it that bitch Mayna?”
“That’s not the issue. When was the last time you saw Cassandra alive?” Johanna asked.
“Last night. She left earlier than usual…said she had to get home right away. There was some kind of emergency.”
“Did she say what the emergency was?”
“No, but I assume it had something to do with her husband. He was supposed to be going to New York on business. She got a phone call—she’s glued to her cell phone—and the next thing I knew she was packing up her gear. She said she’d see me tonight.”
“Did you meet her at The Overlook Motel?” Johanna asked.
“Last night?”
“Ever.”
His eyes shifted. “Not last night.”
“But you have met her there on other occasions?”
“A few times.” He exhaled loudly. “Come on! What was I supposed to do? She was lonely and sex starved. That old fart she was married to wouldn’t know the first thing about satisfying a woman like Cassie. She was wild in bed and—”
“We don’t need the details,” Johanna cut in. She locked her eyes with his. “Did you kill her?”
“What!” His face turned purple with rage. “I have an alibi for last night.”
“It better be an iron-clad one,” Frankie said. “Because right now it doesn’t look too good for you.”
“After I finished here I spent the night with Mayna.”
Chapter 5
“You spent the night where?” Frankie demanded. She wanted to wipe the self-righteous smirk off his face.
“You heard me. Ask her if you don’t believe me.”
“A minute ago she was the ‘bitch’,” Johanna reminded him.
“Look, we broke up because we weren’t compatible…except for sex.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You know what I mean? I go to her place a couple of times a week, give her a good long fuck and we’re both happy. Nothing wrong with that. We’re both consenting adults. No one gets hurt and we’re both happy.”
“Maybe she wants more than just a good fuck,” Johanna said coldly. “Maybe she wants something more permanent. Did that ever cross your mind?”
“Yeah, right. Well if she does, she should know by now that I’m not ready to settle down. I made that perfectly clear when we met. I can’t imagine spending my life with just one woman. That would grow old pretty damned fast. After they get you they start their bitching and making demands. They want to own you. That’s not for me. I like variety,” he said as the cockiness made a quick return. “I still think you and I could have some fun together,” he drawled, looking at Johanna. “Maybe then I could be persuaded to tell you all of Cassandra’s dark and dirty secrets. They’re some doozies.”
“Obviously her death hasn’t affected you at all. Or are you incapable of any human emotion?” Frankie snapped.
His eyes narrowed. “That’s a terrible thing to say. My philosophy is why dwe
ll on something that can’t be changed? Live for the moment is my motto.”
Johanna laughed. “Give me a break. You’ve got a lot of growing up to do, or someday you’re going to find yourself all alone. What are you twenty-seven…eight?”
“I’ll be thirty in October.” He smiled smugly. “And my body is in better shape now than it was when I was twenty.” He winked at her. “And for your information, I doubt I’ll spend any portion of my life alone. As it is, there aren’t enough hours in the day for all the women who beg to ride my cock.”
“So to you it’s nothing more than a game. You don’t care how many hearts you break or how many lives you destroy,” Frankie said disgustedly. “Screw ’em and leave ’em.”
“It’s not my problem. I never promise what I don’t intend to deliver, so if a woman’s expectations are for more than I stated, she deserves what she gets.” He shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“You’re cold and shallow. Maybe someday the shoe will be on the other foot. You won’t always have your looks, Bunson.” Johanna looked at Frankie. “Let’s go talk to Mayna again.” She handed Bunson a business card. “Let us know if you think of anything else.”
He took the card. “The offer’s still open for a drink.” He leered at Johanna and winked.
“Not in your wildest dreams, lover boy.”
“Your loss.”
“Can’t lose what was never wanted,” Johanna replied sweetly.
“We’ll be in touch,” Frankie said. As they walked toward the exit, the counter girl looked quizzically at them while Bunson hurried out of the cafeteria. The women slowly walked to the counter.
The girl smiled pleasantly. “We’re closed, but I’ll get you something if you really want it.”
“No, we’re fine,” Johanna assured her. “Can we ask you a couple of questions?”
“Sure.”
“How well do you know Bunson?”
She grinned. “Not too well, thank God. He’s an ass. He thinks every woman wants him. He makes my skin crawl.”
“Did he put the moves on you, too?”
“He tried, but I put him in his place real fast.”
“How so?” Frankie asked.
“He didn’t know that my father owns this place. I’m in college and I help out here once in awhile.”
The women smiled. “Good for you.”
* * * *
“I could have punched his pretty boy face in,” Frankie fumed as they made their way back to where Mayna stood smiling behind her counter, obviously pleased with putting Bunson in the hot seat.
“I know, honey, that’s why I got us out of there. I can’t stand men like him.”
“Look at her,” Frankie seethed. “And to think I felt sorry for her. He’s right about one thing. She deserves what she gets.”
“Just keep your cool,” Johanna whispered. “She probably feeds that male ego of his.”
“Is there something else I can do for you?” Mayna asked when they reached the counter. “Joe left in a huff, so I’m sure you got the information you were looking for.”
Johanna smiled sweetly. “Joe’s alibi surprised me.” She leaned in closer. “It appears that you left out a very crucial piece of information.”
The color crept slowly up Mayna’s neck reaching her cheeks. “What can I say? We still have a physical attraction.” She clasped her hands tightly together. “Okay, I still love him. I know giving in to him won’t make him want anything permanent, but just to be with him even for a few hours…” Her voice trailed off.
“Doesn’t it bother you that he’s using you?’ Johanna asked. “Don’t you want something better for yourself?”
“I’d do anything for him,” Mayna admitted. “He treats me like a princess when it’s just him and me. This is just an act he puts on in public, but he’s really a sweet guy when we’re alone.”
“So you don’t mind sharing him with other women?” Johanna studied her. “I hope you’re aware of what kinds of sexually transmitted diseases you could pick up.” Johanna met her eyes.
“I don’t need a lecture. I’m a big girl,” she retorted bitterly.
“In any event this changes things.” Frankie frowned. “This could put you at the top of the suspect list.”
“Why? What do you mean?” Mayna’s voice shook. “I could never commit murder! That’s absurd!”
“The motive is there,” Frankie said.
Mayna’s countenance suddenly changed. “Wait a minute.” She looked coldly at Frankie. “If I’m an alibi for Joe then it only stands to reason that he’s an alibi for me. If we were together, then obviously neither of us could have done it.”
Frankie shrugged. “Maybe…maybe not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not convinced about the time of Cassandra McHenry’s death, give or take a few hours, and it could make a huge difference.” She shrugged again. “We’ll be in touch.”
* * * *
Back in the car Frankie gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “Dammit! This case is getting more confusing by the minute. I don’t know what to do next or who to believe. What’s missing? What aren’t we getting?”
Johanna rubbed Frankie’s back. “It’s getting late. Let’s go home.”
Frankie rested her head against the steering wheel. “Okay.”
“The pieces will fall together…they always do,” Johanna said, continuing to massage her back.
“I know, but I was hoping for an easy case. I wanted to clean the house thoroughly before your mother comes.”
“She’s not coming for a few weeks.” She paused. “What’s really bothering you?”
She raised her head. “I’m just feeling a little blue, that’s all.” She grabbed Johanna’s hands. “I was looking forward to a vacation with just you and me so we can unwind.”
“After this case let’s just take off and do it. No cell phones…nothing. We’ll get some R and R and when we come back we’ll be all refreshed and ready to take on the world again. It’s been too long since we’ve taken any time off. We both deserve it.”
Frankie squeezed Johanna’s hands. “I’d love that. The quicker we solve this case the sooner we can have some downtime.”
Johanna cocked an eyebrow. “I like the sound of that.”
Frankie laughed as she started the car. “You have a one-track mind, woman, but I love it!”
“On second thought, instead of going home, as long as we’re out why don’t we head over to The Overlook Motel and see what we can find out. Maybe someone saw something that will at least make sense out of the time of death.”
“Sounds good,” Frankie replied as she pulled into traffic. “But I’m beginning to wonder if Cassandra’s twin is back in town. No, I take that back. I think she’s been back in town for some time now.”
“If she is then we have an even bigger problem.”
Frankie sighed. “Yeah, why is she impersonating her sister?”
* * * *
Johanna observed the manager of The Overlook Motel. He was a short wiry man of about sixty who was clothed in a short-sleeved dress shirt with a frayed collar and dress slacks that were an inch too short. The office was small, cramped and smelled musty. A few magazines were scattered on a beat-up coffee table and a few hard plastic chairs were arranged against one wall. The room was painted dark beige with a few framed five-and-dime pictures hanging on the walls.
Ben Mason scrutinized the women through small red-rimmed watery eyes. “Please excuse me.” He grabbed a tissue from a box sitting on the counter and dabbed at his eyes. “Damned allergies,” he muttered. “How many nights you plan on staying? If it’s more than a week it’s cheaper to rent a room with a kitchenette. Also has an extra small room. More privacy, too,” he said with a knowing smile, “if you don’t want maid service interrupting anything. It also knocks off a few bucks.”
“We don’t want a room. We’re private investigators,” Frankie said.
He squint
ed at them as he swept a hand through his shaggy salt-and-pepper hair. “Well, in that case, what can I do for you, ladies?”
“We want to talk to you about Cassandra McHenry.”
“It was a shame what happened to her. Hasn’t been good for business either with the police tape and cops in and out of here all day. They’re still out back in the room collecting what they say is evidence.” He shrugged. “I already told the sheriff everything I know.”
Johanna smiled, doubting that the type of clientele the motel was used to receiving would really be dissuaded by a murder. The area was noted for its drug dealing, robberies, and assaults. She wondered how many of them even listened to the news. Police tape to most of them just meant another drug deal gone wrong or some hooker getting her throat slashed by a john. “Maybe there’s some little piece of information you left out,” she prodded. “Cassandra McHenry isn’t the type of woman who’d normally visit this part of town. Didn’t it seem odd to you that she ended up murdered in one of your rooms?”
“No, she isn’t the type who normally comes here, but then not everyone is blessed with wealth,” he haughtily replied. “Maybe she wanted to see how the less fortunate live.” He tilted his head toward the back room. “Now if you don’t mind I need to get back to my chores.”
Johanna heard the faint sound of a gunfight coming from a TV program. She smiled. “Your show can wait. Maybe Cassandra slipped you something extra to keep quiet.” She glanced around the shabby room. “Why was she staying here?”
“I have no idea why. It’s none of my business.” He sniffed indignantly.
“A prominent citizen of this city was murdered in your motel and our job is to find out who did it and why.”
“I would like to know, too.” He glared at Johanna. “All she asked for was privacy. Obviously no one would look for her here.”
“How did she know you wouldn’t tell someone?”
His face reddened. “I assured her I wouldn’t. People come and go here and it’s none of my business what they do so long as they pay, don’t bother the other tenants, or wreck the rooms.”
“And you never wondered about Cassandra McHenry?”