Long, Lean and Lethal

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Long, Lean and Lethal Page 11

by O'Clare, Lorie


  “None of us are like that,” Patty said, but her tone still sounded guarded.

  Rain sat on the edge of the couch and rested her elbows on her knees, lacing her fingers and focusing on Patty and then Joanna. Both women shot each other furtive glances, like they were trying desperately to mentally communicate and determine what they should say next.

  “Is there something we should know?” Rain asked.

  “We’re a great group of people,” Patty offered quickly, straightening and clasping her hands in her lap as she pierced Rain with a determined look. “And like with every group, there’s always drama even when you try hard not to make life too complicated.”

  Holding her tongue, Rain watched Patty and waited for what she would say next.

  “How long have you been here in Lincoln?”

  Rain immediately guessed Patty wondered if she’d heard about the murders on the news. “We just moved in the other day,” she said truthfully.

  “And I’m sure you haven’t spent much time learning about Lincoln’s current events.”

  Rain’s heart started pattering harder in her chest. She strained not to move a muscle but smiled easily. “We moved here with the bare essentials,” she again said honestly, and then waved her hand at the room around them. “As you can see, we don’t even have a television out here yet. What current events are you talking about?”

  “Tragedies,” Joanna muttered. “Such terrible, terrible tragedies.” She cleared her throat and Rain noticed her cup shook as she gripped it tight enough that her knuckles turned white.

  “What tragedies?” Rain asked.

  Patty stood and held her half-full cup to Rain. “My lunch hour is about over. Joanna, we need to leave.”

  “Yes. Okay.” Joanna hurried to her feet and nearly shoved her coffee cup at Rain, then hurried toward the front door. “It was great meeting you.”

  “But,” Rain blurted, trying to balance three cups while turning toward the door. Already both women were standing there. “What was it you were about to tell me? What tragedies?” There was no way she could let them leave when they were so close to telling her what they knew. Rain hated that she couldn’t force them to stay.

  Joanna pulled open the front door and her jaw dropped when she stared outside at something. Patty turned toward Rain, not seeing Joanna’s suddenly surprised expression.

  “I’m sure you and your husband are very nice people. So please don’t take this the wrong way.” Patty searched Rain’s face, and concern caused wrinkles to appear around her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “You two would be smart not to go to the potluck tomorrow night. Find another group of swingers. For your own safety. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. Just please, listen to me. Find another group to be friends with.”

  “Patty,” Joanna whispered, and pressed her fingers against Patty’s sleeve.

  Rain stepped closer so she could see out the front door, ready to see Noah outside. But it wasn’t Noah. She reminded herself that he would come in through the garage door off the kitchen. Rain saw a car out in the street that had slowed. As she watched, it accelerated and then disappeared from Rain’s view. All she could note was that it was a dark silver Miata convertible, but it was gone too quickly for her to see if a man or woman drove.

  “Why shouldn’t we go?” Rain asked. As she did, another car slowed outside but this time pulled into the driveway. Noah was back.

  Patty followed Joanna outside and Rain left the coffee cups on the floor by the couch, then hurried outside, bringing up the rear and leaving her front door open. Joanna glanced down the street in the direction the car drove off before turning her attention to Noah, who did stop in the driveway and looked at the three women curiously before getting out of the car.

  Joanna turned to Rain. “Your husband is gorgeous,” she whispered.

  “We’ve got to go,” Patty encouraged, wrapping her arm around Joanna’s.

  Rain doubted Noah would have heard Joanna’s comment, but nonetheless, he approached her and the women with a slow, almost cocky strut that made her want to roll her eyes. It was like he knew he was on display and so strutted his stuff for their perusal.

  “Ladies,” he said in a deep baritone, and it appeared he puffed his chest out, too. Noah looked at her, raising one eyebrow in question.

  “Noah, this is Patty Henderson and Joanna Hill.” Rain returned her attention to the women. “Are you sure you have to leave? I’d love it if you came back inside and explained what you meant with what you just said.”

  “We can’t.” Patty stared at Rain and then reached out and grabbed her wrist. “But please, I know you want an explanation. I can’t give you one. Please do as I suggest. Maybe someday I can explain.”

  Noah had the good sense not to question Patty’s odd farewell speech and stood silently next to Rain as the two women hurried across the street and got into their cars.

  “You know, if you were really my husband, I’d kick your ass for strutting over here like some stud in heat,” Rain said quietly under her breath while watching the women get into their cars. “Don’t you think the two of them could tell just by looking what you have to offer?”

  She waved when they looked her way, and Noah waved, too, then turned and, placing his hand in the middle of her back, guided her toward the car in the drive.

  “Damn good thing I’m not your husband then, huh,” he said, focusing over her shoulder at the departing women. “Because we know what happens when you try kicking my ass, now don’t we?” he growled, his long nose and broad cheekbones giving him a regal, dominating look. But when he shifted his attention to her, his gaze smoldered. “Sounds to me like the more I flirt, the more you’ll make love to me.”

  She slapped his arm, ready to remind him that they fucked and didn’t make love. For some reason, the words wouldn’t come out. “That was a very interesting visit,” she said instead.

  “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

  “They’re both friends of Butch’s and the Gamboas’, where the potluck is going to be tomorrow night.”

  “Oh really?” Noah’s interest was piqued. “Do you need to debrief?”

  “Probably.” She glanced at the large box in the back of the car and tilted her head, trying to get a better view of what it was. “The two of them stopped by to check us out, I think.”

  “Do we pass?” he asked, his expression serious while he searched her face and waited to hear more.

  “I’m not sure,” she answered truthfully. “Both of them have information about the murders, though. So whatever it takes, we need to get closer to them.”

  “Whatever it takes?” Noah lifted an eyebrow, although he didn’t look like he was joking.

  “Well, besides fucking them.”

  “You don’t want me to fuck them?”

  The last thing she’d admit was how much she hated the idea of him being with another woman. He could wait until this case was over before he moved on to the next lady. Even that thought left a sour taste in her mouth.

  “I really don’t care,” she said, straightening and swallowing the bitter bile that quickly rose in her throat. “But it’s not exactly what I meant,” she added, then shifted her weight while crossing her arms and forcing her thoughts to focus only on the case. That meant not looking at his virile body standing so close to hers. “I meant both of those ladies have firsthand information about the murders.”

  “Let’s talk about this inside.” Noah stepped around her and she watched roped muscle stretch under his shirt when he bent down and then dragged the box out of the backseat. It was obviously fairly heavy and his biceps flexed and bulged as he situated the box in his arms. He could barely see over the top of it.

  “Mind guiding me to the door?”

  “Is this a TV?”

  “Let’s say we earned a bonus today. From what I overheard, possibly we both put in an afternoon’s work.”

  “What did you find out?” She brus
hed her fingers over incredibly hard, solid muscle as she touched the back of his arm and steered him toward the front door.

  “Tell me about your conversation with the ladies first,” Noah said, grunting as he hauled the large box into the front door.

  “Okay,” Rain agreed, holding the door while he entered the house and then watching muscles bulge everywhere, stretching against his shirt as he moved around the couch. “They showed up unexpectedly,” she began, shutting the door behind her and then pulling her gun from inside the back of her shorts. After checking the safety, she continued. “Joanna was very open, willing to say her mind. But Patty was jumpy, on edge the entire time she was here, as if coming here wasn’t her idea and she followed out orders she would have rather not done.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “A feeling I got.” Rain glanced around the living room and met Noah’s gaze when she caught him looking at her. “I think it would be a good idea to wire the house, or at least set up something so we can record conversations.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, prompting her to continue.

  Rain remembered the Miata that had stopped in front of their house and the expression on Joanna’s face when she saw it. “It might not hurt to put a camera system outside, either,” Rain added, watching when he returned his attention to the box now in the middle of the living-room floor. “I don’t suppose you noticed a Miata coming at you when you were coming here?”

  “Where?” Noah straightened and pulled a small pocketknife from his back pocket, then began slicing the tape off the seams of the box. “What does a Miata have to do with these two women? Why don’t you tell me everything that happened from beginning to end?”

  “That’s what I’m doing.” It was hard not letting her gaze travel down his body when he twisted, popped his back, and then tugged on his shirt and stretched it over all that hard-packed muscle.

  Rain shared the rest of the conversation, trying to remember word for word everything said among the three of them. “It was weird before they left. Patty was anxious to get out the door after Joanna said something about tragedy among them.”

  Noah reached inside the box and muscles appeared damn close to popping the fabric loose that stretched across his back when he lifted the television out of the box. “Patty didn’t want to talk about it?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Rain.

  “Not at all.” Rain hurried around the couch, pulling the box out of the way while Noah carried the television to the corner near an outlet. “Right before she left she told me the two of us would be smart not to attend the potluck and to simply search for a different group of friends.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Very.”

  If he noticed her practically drooling, he showed no indication and instead headed toward the door, draping his arm over her shoulder and leading her back outside with him. “What’s the big deal about a Miata?”

  “When Joanna and Patty were leaving, or more like hurrying to scramble out the door, Joanna looked shocked, or possibly scared, when a silver Miata stopped outside the house in the middle of the street. It was only there for a moment and then it took off. Less than a minute later you pulled into the driveway.”

  “Convertible?” They reached the car and Noah let go of her, then reached inside the driver’s side and popped the trunk.

  “Yes.” She glanced in the trunk, curious, and then accepted a file folder with papers stuffed inside it when he handed it to her.

  “A man was driving it. Black hair, I think. I was focused on the three of you and not him.” Noah lifted a box out of the trunk that appeared to be full of framed pictures and figurines. He closed the trunk and then led the way to the house. “So we’ve been warned to steer clear of this particular group of people, huh?”

  “The warning was pretty clear.”

  “Sounds like tomorrow night might be more informative than I originally thought it would be.”

  “I’d have to agree. We’re going to have to upset Patty and show up at this potluck anyway. I’ll just tell her that one look at her and Joanna and you couldn’t stay away.”

  Noah placed the box he’d just brought inside on the couch and then wrapped his arms around Rain’s waist, staring into her eyes with an intense, brooding look that stilled her heart. She hated the thought of sharing him with anyone.

  “Is that what you would really tell them?” he asked, searching her face as if he could learn her answer without her speaking.

  Rain stiffened, clearing her mind of any emotion, or reaction to him touching her. It was damn near impossible to do. “We’re here to solve a case, aren’t we?” she whispered.

  Whatever intensity glowed in his eyes faded quickly. “Yup. Sure are,” he grunted, letting go of her.

  Rain shoved the thought out of her head that her response disappointed him. They had something here. Joanna and Patty showing up, the Miata stopping out front—all of it indicated she and Noah might be closer to their killer, and possibly to people who knew who the killer was, than they realized.

  Noah pulled several items out of the box, and Rain gasped. She tilted her head and stared in awe at the framed oil painting depicting a wild scene with three young men in white shorts doing acrobatics.

  “Noah,” she whispered, reaching out to touch it. “Tell me that isn’t a Peter Blume.”

  She looked up, shocked, when Noah threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t know a lot about art. But I was on the phone with Brenda after leaving the morgue and she said you would appreciate these.” He gave her a wicked grin and walked toward the bare walls. “Where do we hang it?”

  “You don’t know how bad I wished the house was wired so conversations could be recorded.” Rain stood next to Noah after they’d hung several pictures and surveyed how the living room was shaping up and coming to life.

  Noah rubbed his knuckles along her jaw and she looked up at him quickly. His eyes glowed almost as dark as onyx while his thick lashes hooded his stare when his focus seemed to drop to her mouth.

  “Do you really want everything that goes on in this house recorded?” he asked, his voice suddenly gravelly.

  “Of course not,” she snapped, making a face and then trying to slap his hand from her face.

  Noah moved quickly, grabbing her wrist and then yanking hard. She damn near fell over the TV box, but he pulled her to the side and she collapsed into his arms.

  “I bet we could work up something that we could turn on discreetly if the need arose where we wanted something recorded.” He grabbed her other hand when she reached for his shoulder to brace herself.

  Noah pushed her backward and, in spite of her struggle, tackled her to the floor. The carpet scraped her backside, making her flesh burn, which ignited fire inside her she couldn’t extinguish. She put some effort into fighting him off but ended up laughing and cussing him out so much she couldn’t gather enough strength to stop him from latching her wrists together over her head. He pressed them together, bound by his hand, and then stretched out next to her, leaning on his arm and holding her in place with one leg.

  “There are definitely moments with you I don’t want recorded, or shared with anyone,” he growled, tracing a line down her face with his free hand.

  “Do you want to share me with other men?” she asked, the question slipping out as she stared at his face. Rough-housing with him turned her on more than she wanted to admit. It brought back memories of playing rough with her father when she was a little girl. And although those moments were far from sexual, they were memories of a happy time, and made it impossible not to smile now.

  Noah smelled good, the Old Spice he put on that morning still lingering around him. All the hard muscle brushing over her and against her, along with his very satisfied expression and tousled hair, added to his sex appeal and got her hot and wet instantly. She managed to finally catch her breath and blinked a few times to clear her vision while Noah ran his finger down her neck to her collarbone and then trac
ed a line from one nipple to the other.

  “We’re here to solve a crime, right? That’s what you said a few minutes ago,” he said, his husky whisper causing her insides to sizzle.

  “Yes. We are.” She noticed the brooding expression return and wondered at that. They wouldn’t have met under different circumstances, but if they had, Rain couldn’t help imagining how romantically involved she could get with Noah. He was everything she ever dreamed of.

  “Then we have to go to that potluck and play the happy couple more now than ever,” he said, sounding determined, and appearing as unwilling to answer her question as she’d been when he asked.

  “Yes, we do.” There wasn’t any point in fighting him; she couldn’t get free. Hissing a breath out through her teeth when he pinched one nipple through her shirt, she focused her thoughts on the case. “Those two women not only know about the murders, but something has them so scared they came over here to warn us, to warn strangers, to avoid their group and go find other swingers to get to know.”

  “Possibly talking to them again might give us a clue toward our motive.” Noah let go of her wrists.

  She didn’t move at first, her body tingling from him touching and teasing her and her brain churning while she tried speculating on why Joanna had looked so scared when someone stopped out front yet had enough nerve to come over in the first place and talk to her.

  Noah grabbed her by the waist and lifted her with ease, as if she weighed nothing. He wrapped his arms around her and then cradled her, this new position so intimate, so passionate, that it stilled her heart. For a moment he simply held her, until finally she let her head fall back against his arm and looked up into his dark, ominous expression.

  “We should know the results on the murder weapon soon.” He didn’t look at her but stared across the living room. In spite of how intimately he held her, he appeared unaware of their positioning. His expression hardened, and he looked almost dangerous as he spoke slowly and quietly. “Every one of those murders was well plotted. Their aim was precise. One shot killed each victim. Whoever is doing this has an agenda. We’ve got to find out what it is before they kill their next victim.”

 

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