by J. D. Sloane
“Dula will be back by eleven,” Morlan said, looking at his watch. “I can give you until then…”
“Come get me at five of,” Alicia said, her voice changing slightly as she met Ronan’s eyes across the table. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”
Morlan shifted on his feet as if he couldn’t quite decide how much he wanted to risk Dula’s wrath and then headed out as Ronan fixed him with a sudden pointed stare, the edges of his lips pulling up in a slight sneer. He cleared his throat as Morlan pushed the door open and tipped his finger across the window, glancing at Alicia again as she paced restlessly in front of the table. Alicia turned to watch as Morlan dragged a long dark curtain across the narrow windows behind them and then walked out without speaking, her eyes widening as Ronan flipped another card onto his pile.
“I didn’t know Dula let his inmates have so much privacy.”
“Oh, well, Dula can actually be a relatively agreeable host from time to time,” Ronan said, snapping the card from one stack to another as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. “The trick is getting him to believe you have something he wants.”
Alicia set her bag down on the table as Ronan looked over her outfit with more interest, lingering on her long, well-shaped legs with an off-handed kind of appreciation. He paused as she turned around quickly, the hem of her skirt kicking up high enough for him to catch a glimpse of her trim inner thighs. He bit back an amused sneer as she fussed with her folders, the simple, obvious tease of her outfit igniting him on some dark, unhealthy level and then paused as he noticed the wide lace choker around her neck, his expression changing slightly as they drifted up to her face.
“Nice necklace,” he said, his voice low and careless. “From your boyfriend?”
“No,” Alicia said running her fingers over it before clicking the end of her pen with a decisive snap. “It’s mine. I’ve had it for a while.”
He looked over her pretty, too-made up face greedily, watching her squirm beneath his gaze as she took a seat at the table and then slid his eyes down the front of her thin gray blouse, dragging his knuckle across his lips as she lowered her eyes.
And that uniform skirt isn’t an accident, either, he thought his primal rush of interest beginning to tumble down all sorts of unpleasant new corridors as Alicia adjusted the neat line of barrettes holding up her long blond hair. And not exactly for my benefit. No, this is just her first easy pass around the table. The hand she uses to size up the competition and figure out who her real opponents actually. Are.
Alicia jumped slightly as the door slammed behind them and then rolled her clear gold eyes up to meet him, her red mouth pulled into an expression so bratty he felt his cock throb against his thigh.
“You’re really not making this any easier, you know,” she said, clearing her throat as she placed her recorder between them.
“And why would I want to make it any easier?” Ronan asked, cocking his head at her as she dropped her pen and he caught it with a careless slap of his palm. Alicia blushed as he held it out to her and then held onto it firmly as she grabbed it, giving her a wink as he let it go all at once.
“Hmm,” he said. “Much better than before. Although not exactly what I had in mind, Alicia. Remind me to be more specific next time.”
He smirked and watched her eyes as he pulled a thin piece of metal out of his mouth and picked the lock of his right cuff with the casual finesse of a lifetime magician. He dropped his other cuff to the floor and then shuffled the deck with the quick restless air of a Vegas dealer, tossing another face card onto the pile.
“You know the security in this place doesn’t exactly put my mind at ease.”
“Yes, well. Dula is kind of a cheapskate when it comes to boring old prison basics. That’s what happens when you let your pharmaceuticals do all the heavy lifting for you.”
Alicia looked down at the pile of cards in front of him and raised her brows slightly as she did a quick doubletake, a dozen different naked pinups grinning back at her from the table.
“Nice deck,” she said, tipping her eyes up to meet him ruefully as she pushed her long bangs back behind one ear.
“I like it too,” Ronan said, cocking his head at her as she blinked. “I requested one with all redheads, but you wouldn’t believe how difficult they are to find.”
He leaned forward as he noticed her staring and tilted his head at her as she glanced away, his face lighting up into a sudden brilliant smile.
“Wouldn’t want to sit for one, would you?” He asked, the amused mockery in his voice so smooth and careless it was almost a caress. “I’m sure I could find someone who would keep it- tasteful.”
Alicia rolled her eyes and then picked up one of the face cards and held it up between her fingers, the half-naked cowgirl on the front waving cheerfully to the world at large.
“Thought you didn’t like blonds?”
Ronan shrugged and then leaned forward to look the picture over, his eyes running between her face and the card with slow speculation.
“Well, not that one, no,” he said, his wide dark eyes sliding over her mouth so idly that she blinked. “She’s not one of my favorites.”
Alicia’s expression fell slightly as she dropped her hand and then snapped her head up as Ronan caught her wrist, pulling her arm back up as he held her eyes. He plucked the card out of her fingers as she tried to tug out of his grasp and then reached for one at the bottom of his deck, tucking it into her grasp as he watched her expression.
“I prefer this one,” he said slowly, looking down at her with half lidded eyes as he watched her react to the photo of a young blond woman, tied up and chained with a gag over her mouth. “She’s a lot more interesting. Don’t you think?”
Alicia leaned closer without meaning to and then flinched as held her in place, his eyes running down her thin gray blouse pointedly for a moment as she shifted her legs beneath her.
“Don’t tell me you’re offended,” he said, something darker than annoyance dancing just below his mask of calm half interest.
Alicia’s fingers curled in his grip and he watched her with a fleeting sense of fascination as she blinked up at him, turning her prissy, practiced expression into one that was almost playfully sensual.
“No,” she said leaning forward. “Not at all. Is that what you want Ronan? To offend me?”
Alicia unfolded her legs and he felt a surprised rush of interest as she met his gaze without flinching.
“Go ahead,” she said, something soft and wild dancing just below her prim show of professionalism. “Give it your best shot. But I have to warn you. If you think a deck of dirty playing cards is enough to rattle me, you really have been hanging out with the wrong kind of women.”
Ronan held her wrist for moment longer, tightening his grip as she refused to flinch and followed her gaze as she noticed the long line of stitches up his arm, her gold eyes flitting over his expression.
“Did that happen here?” she asked, her face softening with something close to compassion. He tipped his eyes towards his arm and then opened his grip all at once, his expression smoothing out into one of polite half-interest as he cracked his back against the chair.
“Something like that,” he said, looking around the room casually as he saw her swallow hard out of the corner of his eyes, burying her fear of him automatically as she reached for a file of notes.
Which is something she would’ve learned, he thought, the dark lace choker around her neck drawing his eyes like a magnet. I wonder who taught her that particular life lesson. Something tells me it was someone she knew well.
Ronan let his gaze wander up the front of her short, pleated skirt and then traced the sharp line of her lips carefully, folding his hands in front of him like an artist considering a slightly petulant subject.
Someone she thought she was in love with but knew she could never trust.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
Ronan gave her a shrug and glanced back towards the door way, his expression polite and unreadable.
“Just enjoying some of the island hospitality, Miss Gale,” Ronan said, his smooth and bored. “Wonderland can become a little addictive. Once you get used to the tumble. Down.”
“Mind if I record this?” she asked, pulling her chair closer.
“If you insist,” Ronan said, his dark eyes twirling with amusement as he leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes briefly as she shuffled through her notes.
“Ronan White, second interview. Last time we met, Mr. White, you mentioned something about your girlfriend’s disappearance. How you believed that the police mishandled some of the more important details of the investigation. Would you mind if we talked about that some more?”
“It’s your time, Miss Gale,” he said, his voice dragging out the sentence until it was almost a caress. “We can talk about almost anything you like. Almost anything.”
Alicia cleared her throat and toyed with her notes for a moment before setting them aside.
“On the night your girlfriend, Brooke Avery, disappeared, you were away from the apartment, is that right?”
Ronan’s jaw tightened as Alicia looked down at her notes, the casual way she used Brooke’s name filling him with a sudden, irrational rush of rage. He turned his chair slightly and shrugged, glancing at Alicia out of the corner of his eyes as he cracked his knuckles one at a time.
“I was.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“Not really, no.”
“Okay. Fair enough. And you believe that she was kidnapped from your residence according to the police report.”
“That is what I said, yes.”
“And that’s what you believe.”
“I believe that this is a game, Miss Gale. One designed by someone who didn’t know much about me. All I need to do is find out who that was.”
“Is that why you killed the motel manager? And his security staff?”
Ronan raised his brows at her expression and then smirked, his gaze running from her face to the tape recorder and back again.
“Oh, well, there were lots of reasons to kill them, Miss Gale. After so much time it’s hard to pinpoint the. Exact. One.”
He whistled under his breath as he held his hands out in front of him like a prizefighter and then slid them over the desk as he leaned forward, his eyes crawling over her face with a sudden flash of hungry interest.
“I take it you went to see Nolan. How is the good chief doing these days? Is early retirement all he hoped it would be?”
“That’s not what the current manager says.”
“Oh no?”
Alicia pulled out her notebook and flipped to a page near the back as Ronan glanced around the room, his eyes shifting smoothly from one object to another without ever quite leaving her face.
“You would’ve known him as the assistant manager,” she said, showing him a small black and white photo with a flip of her fingers. Ronan raised his brows and pulled it out of her grasp before looking at it closely, his dark eyes beginning to dance with an electric sort of malice.
“Ah,” he said, brushing it back towards her with a flick of his hand. “And what did the inimitable Mr. Hall have to say? Still paying housekeeping to hold the place together?”
“He said that the police took all the relevant footage. And that they didn’t find anything on it. No photographer, no black case, no nothing.”
“And you believed him?” He asked, his voice low and condescending. “So far I’m not overly impressed with your journalistic instincts, Miss Gale. They seem to rely a little too much on the easy takeaway.”
“Well he’s certainly no fan of yours,” She said tucking the photo back into her folder. “He said that one of your men stabbed him in the parking lot and left him for dead that night.”
Ronan bit back a grin and then looked around the room, brushing his thumb across his lips as he gave her a shrug.
“He also said that you’ve been sending different girls to see him about that camera footage for months.”
Ronan raised his brows as she struggled to control the quiet edge of jealousy in her voice and leaned over the table toward her, his pale, handsome face dropping back into an expression that was not quite enjoyment.
“Maybe they were just concerned citizens looking to right an injustice.”
“Or maybe you told them to do it. Maybe you’re the one playing games, Mr. White. Not the other way around.”
Ronan looked at her seriously for a moment, his wide eyes rolling over her like an electric current as she moved her hand towards her bag and then shifted it back again, her long red nails dancing impatiently against the table top.
“You changed your hair,” he said, tilting his head at her.
“No,” Alicia said pushing her long bangs behind her ear automatically. “I didn’t. I just put it up. It’s the same it’s just…Are you unwilling to talk about this, Mr. White? I feel like we keep going around in circles here.”
“Why’d you put it up?” Ronan asked as if she hadn’t spoken.
“I don’t know. I thought it looked nice. What do you care? Blonds aren’t really your type, remember?”
Ronan’s eyes widened and then he grinned, looking at her with more interest as she tapped her pen on top of his folder.
“I’m not sure I said that.”
“No. That’s what the manager said. And he seemed pretty annoyed that another one of your groupies was there looking for evidence to help bust you out on appeal.”
Ronan leaned forward, his dark eyes shifting with sudden bemusement.
“Oh, well. You know some women, Alicia. They’ll do absolutely anything under the banner of romantic destiny. What about you? Is the pleasant sameness of monogamy starting to grate on you yet?”
“You mean the way it grated on you?” She asked stiffly.
Ronan licked his bottom lip and then sat back in his seat, smirking at her expression.
“Oh no. Not me. I never really minded the sameness. That never bothered me at all. Does that surprise you?”
Ronan glanced at her as Alicia let out a short sigh and then sat back in her chair, her gold eyes glittering with annoyance as she folded her hands on the desk.
“I went to your apartment today. After I went to see the motel manager. It’s for rent now, did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t. What a surprise.”
“I was surprised too, to be honest. The realtor didn’t recognize me, but she did know a lot about you. I think she was kind of a fan of the investigation. I don’t know, maybe you’re the only famous person she ever had a connection to. The point is that when she heard I knew about you and about the apartment, she wouldn’t shut up about it. She told me all sorts of things that weren’t in any report I’ve read. Not one.”
“It sounds like that realtor saw you coming,” he said, his voice low and clipped.
He whistled under his breath as Alicia rolled her eyes up to meet him, and then leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he waved his hand at her.
“She said that your place was left standing for almost twenty-four hours before the police raided it. That a couple of your neighbors helped themselves to some of your belongings.”
“And then tried to pawn them. I’ve heard that story. Not very neighborly, if you ask me.”
“They didn’t try to pawn all of it. One of them did manage to pawn some of her jewelry. The police recovered all of that. But apparently that wasn’t the only thing he found in that bedside table.”
“And what did he say he found?”
“He said he found a collection of leather cuffs. Some of them silver plated.”
Ronan smiled slightly and then raised his brows as he glanced away, clearing his throat into his fist as he gave her a nonchalant shrug.
“Sounds like our neighborhood entrepren
eur has a wild imagination. And not much of a business model, I’m afraid. Mind telling me his name? I’d love to drop by sometime and verify his collection’s authenticity.”
Alicia pressed her lips together, her round gold eyes moving up and down him slowly and then tapped the sheet of paper with her fingernail as she glanced towards the wall.
“Alice,” she said, turning her eyes back towards him. “That’s what you asked me when we first met, right? If anyone had ever called me Alice?”
Ronan paused as Alicia pointed to a line in the police report, his wide eyes following her hand almost against his will.
“You see, I didn’t really believe the realtor either. I mean, people will say anything in this city to rent an apartment. But that’s what this completely unrelated person said was engraved on the front of what looked like a collar. She said that he told her it was engraved with the name ‘Alice’. It could be a coincidence, I know. But that’s one hell of a coincidence, Ronan.”
Alicia shuffled the papers in front of her as his eyes moved over her slowly, tilting her head towards him until her long bangs brushed against her lips.
“It doesn’t take a lot imagination for people to put that kind of a relationship together. Or to assume that if you enjoyed that sort of thing, she might have let you do other things to her. Things she couldn’t talk about. Things she wouldn’t talk about.”
Ronan looked at her sharply and then closed his eyes, glancing at the ceiling as his face lit up with a slow, acid-laced smile.
“You’re not going to put that in the story,” he said, his voice suddenly so calm and amused it was almost friendly.
“Why not? Is it a lie?”
Ronan leaned forward until they were less than a hand’s width away and traced the line of her lips carefully for a moment as she tried not to squirm.
“Because it was a game,” Ronan said, dragging the words out until they were practically a caress. “Just a game. Don’t you know any games, Alicia? I’ll just bet that you do.”
“Ronan,” Alicia said, holding her hands up slightly as she leaned away from him. “I’m trying to help you here. They think you did it, you know. All of them. The manager, Nolan, everyone. The public is looking for any reason at all to believe that you’re exactly what they think you are.”