Killer Beach Reads

by Gemma Halliday Publishing

  "I know your wife wants a divorce!" Rita swung the mannequin again, knocking Eddie into a wall. He struggled to regain his footing and tried again for the door.

  "Stop! Police!" Curtis burst through the back door, and Eddie scrambled backward, his hands up. Then he glanced backward at the front door to the shop, turned, and ran for that exit.

  "Stop!" Curtis yelled again then fired his Taser.

  Unlike my little handheld stun gun, Curtis's professional grade Taser fired darts, and from my view on the floor, I got to see both of them penetrate Eddie's thin cotton shirt and then watch him flop to the ground and convulse.

  Rita ran at the crumpled figure on the ground, and I didn't know if she was going to help him or hurt him. Curtis caught her as she kicked at Eddie's prone figure. He lifted her off the ground and took a kick in the shin for his troubles.

  "Let me go! I'm not done with him!" she screeched.

  As I climbed off the floor, Curtis wrestled Rita to the ground and cuffed her, fastening her hands to a wrought iron bench that at least would slow her down if she tried to kill Eddie again. I straightened my dress then went over to Burton, who was leaning on a dresser.

  "Are you all right?" I asked and got a stern glare in return.

  I smiled. Frankly, it was nice to know that Superman wasn't perfect. I patted his arm then saw the familiar battered papers on the dresser. Picking them up, I gave Burton a wide smile and then crossed the now-destroyed lingerie shop.

  Eddie lay on the ground, his body curled into a fetal position. His hands were curled into tight fists. I stepped over the mannequin carcass and leaned down, grabbing his hand and forcing his fingers open. Then I worked the subpoena into his fist and curled his fingers back in place.

  "Eddie Lucas, you've been served a subpoena to testify at the trial of Leo Adler."

  I stood up and let Curtis and Burton get Eddie to a sitting position. Red and blue lights announced that Curtis's backup had arrived.

  "You know there's probably not going to be a trial now, right?" Burton asked.

  "I know. It's the principle."

  Curtis snapped handcuffs on Eddie, even though he didn't look like he'd be able to get up and run for quite some time. A very unhappy police detective walked in, and I recognized him as the lead investigator on Leo's case. He glared at me and Burton, then at Eddie. It was no fun having your entire case get blown out of the water just before it's supposed to go to trial. Of course, it's also no fun to go prison for a crime you didn't commit, so I didn't feel at all bad about making the cop look bad.

  Still, it seemed like a good time to get out of the Red Silk Ribbon. Burton had the same thought, nodding toward the back door as more cops arrived. We moved slowly toward the door, and I caught Curtis's eye and waved. He looked like he might stop us but then shrugged. He knew where to find us. The real action was with the crying redhead who was pointing at Eddie and shouting things like "arsonist" and "cheating bastard." The cops only cared about the first, but Rita was going to give them an earful on both.

  Burton's phone rang softly, and he answered it as we slipped out the door. I could hear the voice on the other end of the phone and eavesdropped shamelessly.

  "Hey, Burton, it's Don from Bernini's. I tried to hold your table, but I had to let it go. I can get you in later, if that will work."

  Burton looked down at me, a smile playing around his lips. "What time can you get us in?"

  "Last seating is at 9:30, and I can save you a table."

  "We'll be there. Thanks."

  He disconnected and slipped his phone back into his pocket, then looked down at me. "Are you still hungry?"

  "You made reservations for Bernini's for tonight? I thought you wanted tacos."

  His slow smile and raised eyebrow caused my cheeks to flush. "I know what you like, Sarah."

  His deep voice saying my name sent a delicious tingle through me. The thought that he knew my favorite restaurant, knew where I'd demand to go, made my pulse flutter. So maybe he was arrogant. He was also pretty thoughtful. And kind, trying to help Sugar out of her mess. Sure, he might be too beautiful for his own good, but who was I to complain about the view?

  I raised my chin and smiled back at him.

  "Et moi aussi je sais ce que t'aimes," I said, brushing past him with a knowing smile.

  I knew exactly what he liked, too.

  * * * * *

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ellie Ashe has always been drawn to jobs where she can tell stories—journalist, lawyer, and now writer. Writing quirky romantic mysteries is how she gets the "happily ever after" that so often is lacking in her day job.

  When not writing, you can find her with her nose in a good book, watching far too much TV, or trying out new recipes on unsuspecting friends and family. She lives in Northern California with her husband and two cats, all of whom worry when she starts browsing the puppy listings on petfinder.com.

  To learn more about Ellie Ashe, visit her online at:

  http://ellieashe.com

  BOOKS BY ELLIE ASHE

  Miranda Vaughn Mysteries:

  Chasing the Dollar

  Dropping the Dime

  Chasing Tinsel (holiday short story)

  BRUNETTES JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

  (Gilda Wright Mysteries)

  by

  Diane Bator

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER ONE

  Gilda fanned her face, melting into a lawn chair in the shade as she groaned. "This weather is unbelievable. I doubt even Hell is as hot as this fall has been."

  "Here, this will help." Marion Yearly, her best friend, handed a tall glass of lemonade with a straw to her over the round mosaic-tiled table. "Just drink it slow, there's—"

  Too hot and thirsty to heed the warning, Gilda had sucked back nearly half the tangy drink before she noticed Marion's wide eyes and the odd taste in the back of her throat. She scrunched up her face. "What's in this?"

  "It's called Lemonade Margarita. I was going to warn you I added tequila, but I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." Marion topped off her glass, then Gilda's. "Cheers to finally getting a whole day off to hang out together. Well, aside from going to karate class this morning."

  "Amen." Gilda tapped Marion's glass with hers and smiled. She was glad she'd pulled on a bikini beneath her shorts and tank top after class that morning. Maybe later she'd convince Marion to join her at the beach, which wouldn't take much effort.

  Marion took a sip then frowned. "So, how did you manage to get the rest of the day off anyway? I thought Mick wanted you at the karate school day and night to get ready for the town's birthday party celebrations on the beach next weekend."

  She waved a hand. "We've already got all the details worked out. Besides, I've put in well over my usual hours in the past few weeks and needed a day off before I strangled him or Kane. Besides, Mick is going to get Kane to take over his last class tonight so we can go out for a much-needed dinner date. He wanted me to have plenty of time to shower and pamper myself. It's been weeks since we've been able to spend some quality time together."

  Marion adjusted the top of her yellow sundress and settled back with a dreamy smile. "Did I tell you how jealous I am you get to work with the biggest hunks in town?"

  Gilda knew. So did all the hunks in question. When she'd gone to work for Sensei Mick Williams at his small karate school, she'd been ill prepared for the insanity that lay ahead, or for the fact she'd fall head over heels for him. She'd been more concerned with hiding from the world behind a desk to rebuild her shattered self-confidence and ego after a nasty—and very public—breakup with her ex-boyfriend, a local police officer.

  "Do you realize it's already been three months since Mick shut down the old school?" Gilda asked. Then he'd built the new school, Phoenix Martial Arts, held an MMA extravaganza, and membership sales had soared ever since.

  "Yeah." Marion nodded as she sipped. "Right about the same time Kane Garrick came to town and didn't seem to care less if you were d
ating Mick or not."

  "He still doesn't." Her face burned. She thought she had things figured out until Kane showed up on the beach swinging a sword and flirting shamelessly.

  Marion sighed. "For such a Zen type of guy, I can't believe he's still such a sore loser. Why doesn't he back off and leave you alone?"

  "Because he's Kane Garrick, former MMA superstar." Gilda sucked back another half glass of lemonade without thinking. A slow buzz filled her brain then vibrated over her entire body. "Oh, boy. I forgot about the tequila."

  "There's triple sec in there too." Marion chuckled. "On the upside, you're finally relaxed and don't have to go back to work today."

  She closed her eyes and rested her head against the chair back. "You're right. I have the afternoon off and a great friend to spend it with. What more could a girl want?"

  They chatted and reveled in the peace for five more minutes before Marion's doorbell rang. She flinched and sat upright. After a few seconds, she shrugged. "Whoever it is, they can go away. I'm not getting up to answer the door. I'm on vacation for today."

  "Good for you. Me too." Gilda raised her glass, her entire body warm from the alcohol, yet cooled by the ice. Heaven. "Cheers."

  "Hey, Gilda, love. Are you here?" Kane called out from the side of the house.

  Her eyes flew open. "How the heck did he know I was here?"

  "Are you kidding me?" Marion gawked. "The boy can sniff you out from miles away. Haven't you ever noticed that?"

  Gilda hadn't. She'd been focused on Mick, not Kane. "He knows I've got the rest of the day off. What on earth does he want now?"

  "You, darlin'." Marion chuckled. "Ever since the first day he met you on the beach."

  She huffed then slammed her glass on the table. "When will he get it though his thick skull I'm dating Mick and not available?"

  Marion shrugged. "Did you ever ask him that?"

  "No, I've been trying to avoid being anywhere alone with him ever since…"

  Ever since he'd kissed her during a wild rainstorm, which she'd never told Marion or Mick about. Not so much to protect Kane as her own sanity. The instant she first saw him on the beach in early September, she'd struggled to keep her distance yet kept being sucked in by his good looks and charm to the point he'd become a strain on her relationship with Mick.

  Gilda sat back and wished she could blend in with the shrubbery around them. Marion's backyard resembled a small-town version of the Garden of Eden. Fruit trees, shrubs, and plenty of shade.

  Temptation in bright blue board shorts and white tank top against his bronzed skin, Kane slithered into the backyard like the snake Gilda suddenly imagined him to be. With his shoulder-length blond hair twisted into dreadlocks all around his head and a two-day growth of stubble, he resembled a scruffy beach bum more than a trained swordsman. The total opposite of Mick, who was always clean-shaven. "G'day, ladies."

  "What do you want, Kane?" Gilda groaned. "I've had one day off in the past two weeks and you are not going to ruin this for me."

  His too-white smile drooped. "Whoa. Did you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning or what? You know if you'd woken up next to me that never would've happened, love."

  Marion fanned her face, batted her eyes, and sipped her lemonade in silence.

  Gilda scowled. His Australian accent, which she knew was fake since he'd been born and raised in Detroit, still made her knees weak. "What do you want, Kane?"

  His gaze darted toward Marion before he winked. "Besides you on a bed covered in rose petals, you mean, love?"

  Marion set her glass aside. "Oh hell, Gilda, if you don't jump the guy, I will."

  "That's subtle." Kane's face turned red.

  Gilda chuckled. "She's no worse than you."

  He grimaced. "I guess. You ladies planning to drink something besides spiked lemonade? Water, maybe?"

  "Or something." Gilda took another drink and hoped the tequila's tongue-loosening qualities wouldn't make her say or do anything she'd regret later.

  Kane snatched the glass out of her hand and sniffed. He took a sip then wrinkled his nose. "Tequila. How can you drink that stuff? Just keep the party tame and stay out of trouble, love. Unless you'd prefer I stay to supervise." He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Gilda raised one hand. "We're fine. We won't leave the backyard. I promise."

  "Me too." Marion refilled her glass.

  He chuckled. "You might want to slow down then before you both end up passed out face down on the grass."

  "Maybe you should come back in an hour to make sure we're not being naughty." Marion flashed a coy smile. "I'm sure you know what tequila does to a woman's inhibitions."

  Gilda's mouth dropped open before she burst into laughter.

  Kane sighed and ran a hand over his dreadlocks. "Maybe you two should find something better to do today. Go to the beach or take a road trip. Nah, forget the road trip, you'll both end up in jail. Just behave or I'll have to call Thayer."

  "Don't you dare!" Marion growled.

  "We're fine. We don't need police supervision." Gilda smiled. "Now go away and let us enjoy the peace and quiet."

  He rolled his eyes and touched her cheek. "Sure thing. I'll let Mick know where you are and what you're up to."

  She snorted. "If he needs me, he can text me."

  Kane's grin twisted as he pulled out his phone. "Does that work for me as well, love?"

  "No." She clenched her jaw. "All you need is to leave. Now."

  "At least I tried." He shrugged and walked away.

  Once he'd disappeared around the corner, Gilda sat back and blew out a slow breath. She was about to take another sip when a loud explosion rocked Marion's house. Windows rattled, the table and chairs swayed, and the small amount of lemonade left in the pitcher sloshed.

  "What on earth was that?" Marion shrieked, jumping to her feet.

  Gilda rolled off her chair and started running toward the front of the house without a second thought. Marion leaped to her feet, hot on Gilda's heels. They'd barely reached the front yard when a wave of heat pummeled them from up the street.

  "Oh my!" Marion grabbed Gilda's arm. "Isn't that…?"

  The building that housed their old martial arts school as well as the Nine Lives Consignment Boutique now lay scattered all over the street and halfway down the beach. As dust and debris fell from the air, several figures staggered into the street. Two women helped each other limp away as a dust-covered man crawled out from the rubble. Yet another figure ran toward the police station across the street.

  Kane patted the pockets of his shorts. "Damn. Where'd I leave my phone? Somebody call an ambulance."

  As the man who'd crawled onto the sidewalk got to his feet and stumbled toward Gilda and Marion, Gilda sucked in a sharp breath. "Mick!"

  Mick Williams, her boss and boyfriend, had either been walking past or right in the midst of the blast. Cuts covered his face and his right shoulder gushed blood.

  "Somebody help us!" Gilda shrieked then took off at a run toward Mick and grabbed his left arm. "Omigod, you're bleeding. Are you okay?"

  Mick didn't answer. Instead, he stopped and seemed to struggle to catch his breath as he looked around with wide eyes. "What the hell just happened?"

  "Come on." She draped his left arm around her shoulder and led him to the beach a half block over where other injured people began to congregate. "Let's sit you down before you collapse and check out that shoulder."

  "What happened?" Mick shouted, pulling away from Gilda. "Where'd he go?"

  "Slow down, mate. Where did who go?" Kane asked.

  Mrs. Watson, the elderly lady who owned the Nine Lives Consignment shop, wandered past them in a daze. "Where is he?"

  "Where is who?" Marion took Mrs. Watson by the arm. "Who are you guys looking for?"

  "Marvin." Her blue eyes welled with tears. "My grandson is missing."

  Mick lunged back toward the rubble. "I'll go get him."

  "No, you won't." Kane hoisted Mick into his arms like
a rag doll. "Bring the old lady."

  Marion grabbed Mrs. Watson's thin shoulders and turned her around toward the beach.

  Gilda followed close behind as Kane carried Mick to the knoll near the sand then laid him on the grass. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "He'll be fine." Kane peeled off his blood-speckled tank top and held it to the gaping wound in Mick's shoulder. "What the hell happened, mate?"

  Glassy-eyed, Mick turned from Kane to Gilda before he grimaced. He raised his left hand to his ear, but couldn't seem to move his right arm.

  Gilda cradled Mick's face in her hands. "Are your ears ringing?"

  "What? I can't hear you." Mick raised his voice and struggled to sit up. "My ears won't stop ringing."

  "I guess that's a yes. Don't move, mate." Kane pushed Mick back down and held the crumpled up tank top firmly in place against his shoulder. He turned to Gilda, took her hand, then placed it on the tank top, pressing down hard. "Make sure he stays still and hold this tight to his shoulder to help slow the bleeding. I'm going to get help and see who else is hurt."

  Gilda blinked back tears and wished she'd never taken a single sip of lemonade, let alone gulped down a whole glass, which now made her slow and clumsy. "Okay."

  "Are you sure?" Kane met her gaze and kept his hand on hers for a few seconds longer. "This is important, love. Don't let go of the shirt, okay? We need to stop the bleeding. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  "Are you going to find my Marvin?" Mrs. Watson asked.

  Kane gave her a fast hug. "Yes, love, I'll go find Marvin. Will you stay right here for me so I can find you later?"

  "Yes, dear." Mrs. Watson's voice wavered.

  As paramedics, doctors, and nurses ran out from the hospital up the street, Gilda stayed with Mick while Kane darted from one injured person to the next, helping medical personnel assess who needed help the most. She had no idea he was qualified, or even knowledgeable enough, to do so. When he stopped at one still figure and shouted for help, Gilda cringed.