Grateful that for herself it was over so quickly…
Isa pushed open the door of the restaurant slowly, ready to turn around and forget this whole thing. Casey Hamilton was seated near the door, however, and waved. No escape now. Isa plastered a smile her face and shook the woman’s hand. A waiter, his glance admiring, pulled out her chair for her.
‘I’m so glad you could make it,’ Casey’s smile was friendly enough, ‘I didn’t think you’d call. Not that I would have blamed you.’
Isa recognized passive-aggressive behavior when it was right in front of her, but she nodded. ‘That’s okay.’ She felt tongue-tied, nervous. Why had she agreed to this? The women looked over the menu for a few minutes: Casey ordering a cobb salad: Isa, the club sandwich.
‘You’re so lucky,’ Casey wafted a hand in the air, ‘I can’t touch carbs.’
Oh lord, so that’s how it’s going to be. Isa sipped her iced water and said nothing. Casey folded her hands on the table and leaned forward, her ice blue eyes focused on Isa’s. ’So, tell me about your plans now. Are you going to find somewhere else to exhibit? What’s happening with the gallery?’
The waiter bought some wine and Isa took a grateful gulp before she answered. ‘We’re rebuilding. Actually, we’ve bought the old Sacred Heart hospital – you know it?’
Casey nodded, and Isa continued. ‘It’ll be a huge project, renovating the whole thing but we’ve just fallen in love with the place.’
‘Who is ‘we’?’
Isa took another gulp. ‘My adoptive mother, Zoe. It was her gallery that was destroyed. Seb, Zoe’s son, my brother. My partner.’ Suddenly she didn’t want to say Sam’s name to this woman. She still wasn’t convinced they didn’t know each other. On the other hand…
‘My partner is Sam Levy.’
Casey’s face was politely blank. ‘The art dealer?’ Isa nodded.
‘Do you know him?’
Casey smiled, but Isa caught the loaded pause. Fuck. ‘I think I might have met him back in the day.’
Isa hated that expression – what the hell did it mean? What day? What was ‘the day’? Her shoulders hitched up in irritation, and suddenly she wanted to press the woman further. ‘It just seemed, that day at the gallery, that you knew each other.’
Casey smirked, and Isa wanted to slap it off her smug face. This had been such a huge mistake. She really didn’t like this woman; her first instincts had been right on the money. Just get through this. Isa sighed and decided to cut to the chase.
‘Miss Hamilton – ‘
‘Casey.’
‘Casey… it was nice of you to reach out to me but really, I don’t know what we can do for each other. I really am just an amateur. I love art, but my work at the college is my career. The exhibit was just – ‘
‘Sam’s idea? A gift for his paramour?’
Ouch. Isa shrugged and glanced at her watch. God, had it only been ten minutes? ‘So what is it you want?’
Casey smirked again. ‘I just wanted to see the artist behind the work. For what it’s worth, I don’t think Sam was just being a good boyfriend. His eye for talent is known throughout the business.’
So she did know him, know of his reputation anyway. Isa decided she didn’t like Casey calling him Sam. Mr. Levy to you, bitch. She was shocked at herself then; it wasn’t like her to be the jealous type. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She was so tired lately, so grouchy.
‘Are you alright?’ Casey was watching her, her eyes amused. Isa was saved by the food arriving, and she fell gratefully onto the sandwich. Casey picked delicately at the salad, casting amused glances at Isa, who chomped defiantly.
‘Have you been working on any new pieces?’
It wouldn’t hurt to show some interest. God, this sandwich is good. Isa realized she wasn’t listening to Casey’s reply.
‘Not until I saw your work. You really inspired me, Isabel. Shame about the fire. Did you lose much?’
Isa waited to finish her mouthful before answering. ‘A few pieces.’
‘Shame.’ But Casey’s eyes betrayed her amusement and her satisfaction. Isa stared back, her gaze steady.
‘I ask again, Miss Hamilton, what is it you want?’ Isa had had enough of this, she had better things to do with her time than deal with this bitchy, smug…
‘Actually, you know what? Nothing. I just wanted to see what he saw in you.’
An icy shock to her heart. ‘What?’
Casey smiled. ‘I meant as an art dealer. Why you merited the Levy treatment.’
Liar. Her temper almost at boiling point, Isa put down the remains of her sandwich and picked up her purse. She pulled out some money and, standing, put it down on the table. ‘I have to go. Thanks for lunch, Miss Hamilton, I wish you every luck.’
Casey smirked but as Isa reached for the door, she called out, and Isa whirled around, her heart thumping.
‘What did you say?’
Casey smiled, and there was no warmth in her cold, dead, eyes. ‘I said stay safe, Isabel.’
‘Sorry to keep you, Mr. Levy.’ Det. John Halsey smiled at him as they shook hands. He showed Sam into his office, offered him coffee, which Sam refused politely.
‘Detective Halsey, I’m sorry to get straight to it but has there been any progress, any progress at all?’
‘We spoke to Karl Dudek. He denies any knowledge of the threats, of course, but for what it’s worth, I believe him. He seemed genuinely contrite for how his relationship with Miss Flynn ended.’
Sam said nothing, his jaw clenching in frustration.
Halsey frowned. ‘You still getting the messages?’
Sam sighed. ‘No. It’s just… something strange happened.’ He had been about to tell him about the strange cut on Isa’s body but even to his ears; it sounded ridiculous. He decided to frame it differently. ‘I think he’s been in the house. At night. I was in New York, and when I came home, the door to Isa’s apartment was unlocked. She had a cut on her stomach… just a tiny one but…’ He trailed off when he saw Halsey’s raised eyebrows. ‘I know, it sounds ridiculously paranoid on my part but…’ Sam suddenly felt his whole body slump, and he dropped his head into his hands.
There was a short silence then. ‘Mr. Levy. I understand. I know this must be hard for you, for your family especially, but I can assure you we are doing everything we can. Whoever sent those messages used burner phones, so our avenues of investigation are limited. But stalking is a crime in Washington State so as soon as we know anything…’
Sam was staring at the detective. ‘What did you mean ‘especially for my family’?’
John Halsey smiled at him kindly. ‘Mr. Levy… Sam, when we investigate a crime we look into everyone’s past. Everyone. I know the horror you’ve had to witness; the horror you fear repeating itself with your lovely Isabel.’
He got up and walked around the desk to place a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
‘I know, Sam. I know what happened thirty years ago.’
Cal was sitting on the steps to her apartment when Isa got back to the island. She smiled when she saw him, his cheerful face making her entire body relax. He bounded down the wooden steps like an excited puppy and hugged her.
‘Hey, little sis.’
She giggled as she hugged him back. ‘What are you doing here? And why are you outside? Isn’t Zoe in? Or Seb?’
They went upstairs to her apartment, and she snagged sodas from the refrigerator for them both. Handing one to him, she realized how happy she was to see him and how much like a brother he’d become.
Cal took a long gulp of soda, belching loudly and grinning apologetically. ‘Sorry. To answer your questions, me and Seb were skateboarding this morning; Zoe made us lunch and then they both abandoned me like a poor orphan. Seb’s finally gotten together with Louisa from what I understand.’
Isa looked surprised. ‘He has? About time but why didn’t he tell me himself?’
‘No idea. So, anyway, I thought I might as well wait ar
ound for you.’
She grinned and flicked some soda at him. ‘So, I’m an afterthought? Charming.’
He banged his soda can against hers. ‘Never. It’s nice to get some alone time with you, actually. You realize we’ve never hung out, just us two?’
She thought back. The last few months had been such a tumult, such a complete upheaval of her life. ‘Really? That sucks.’ She grinned. ‘Sam’s got a meeting down in San Francisco next week; he’ll be home really late. Come over; we’ll binge-watch on Netflix and eat junk food all night.’
Cal grinned. ‘You know you just got really turned on by vegging out, right?’
She burst out laughing. ‘God, you know me too well, Caleb. So, deal?’
‘Deal.’
‘Other leg.’
Isa lifted her right leg out of the soapy water, rested her foot on the side of the tub. She wrapped her other leg around Sam’s waist. His hands rubbed the lather onto her lower leg, sweeping around the curve of her calf. He loved these quiet moments with her, these little intimacies.
When he’d gotten back from the city, drawn and tired from talking with Det. Halsey, she’d made them a delicious stew, which they’d eaten from plates balanced on their laps in front of the television, cold beers on the coffee table in front of them. It was such a little thing, such a simple, ordinary way to spend the evening that the stress of his day left him.
Now, bathing together, his head bent in concentration, he felt her soft lips kissing his wet skin, up the swoop of his neck, behind his ear.
‘Not helping me concentrate,’ he laughed. He rinsed the razor out in the water and stroked it gently over her skin. Isa, relaxed, enjoying his touch, pulled her fingers through the hair on the back of his head, slow, rhythmic.
‘So where you wanna go on vacation? I’m all done here.’ He lifted her leg and curved it around his waist with the other. She leaned forward, kissing his cheek.
‘Thank you, baby. You’ve saved me from going full-Wookie.’
He grinned round at her. ‘You’re welcome. Boobies?’
She snickered and pressed her breasts against his back.
‘Thank you. Hey, look, I’m serious. Let’s go on vacation.’
‘Ok, I’m up for that,’ She drew shapes on his back with the bath foam. ‘Where can we go? India. New Zealand. Oh, Japan. Or the Maldives - one of those little huts that sit right there in the ocean. So many places I’d love to see.’
She reached for the shampoo bottle, smeared some of it on her palm and began to rub it onto his head. Her fingers massaged his scalp, and he sighed happily.
‘We’ll travel the world, my lovely Isa.’
She rinsed his hair then pulled him back to rest against her, her arms crisscrossing across his chest. She nuzzled his ear.
‘I love you, Samuel Levy. I’d go anywhere with you; you know that.’ She was soaping his chest now, working her way down his stomach. He smiled lazily; he knew where she was headed. He felt her chuckle, reading his mind and, dropping the soap, she started to caress his cock.’
‘See this?’ She murmured in his ear as they both watched him become huge, erect under her touch. ‘This belongs to me.’ She ran the tip of her finger around the crest of it, and he moaned.
‘It belongs in you,’ he said and deftly – but with a lot of splashing – twisted them both around, so she was on top of him. She giggled, looking over the side of the tub at the water slopped onto the floor.
‘There is water everywhere,’ but then it was her turn to moan, so beautifully, as his fingers spread the soft lips of her sex apart, exploring the slick hollows of her. Sam kissed her as she took the length of him inside of her, the muscles clenching and massaging him as she moved. His hands spanned her waist, kneaded the silky flesh there – he loved that she wasn’t skin and bones, that there was a pillowy softness to her curves. Her breasts, so full and heavy, moved rhythmically with her, the hard nipples brushing his chest. He caught her mouth with his, the kiss making him heady with desire, and his hands clamped tightly onto her hips, using them to help him push deeper inside her. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders; her face was flushed pink and as she threw her head back, lost, his lips found her throat. Her hands were on his face, pulling his lips to hers as their pace quickened. He felt her body go limp as she came, a second before he felt himself explode, gathering her to him as he groaned. God, he wished this would never stop, this connection, this love. He tightened his arms around her, his hands stroking her skin and feeling her heavy breath on his neck as they calmed down.
The water in the tub was cold by the time they got out, laughing, drying themselves whipping the other with their towels. Sam pulled his jogging pants on, watched as she shrugged in the old t-shirt and shorts combo she wore to lounge around the apartment. The t-shirt, faded pink, had worn hems, a hole in the sleeve but he thought her at her most beautiful when she wore it, her soft face scrubbed clean, her dark hair pulled into a tangled bun at the nape of her neck – well, he thought now, most beautiful when she was dressed. Nothing could compare to her beauty when she was naked. She was watching him watching her, grinning.
‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the world.’
She flushed at the compliment, came to stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Grinning, he stuck his head up inside her t-shirt and kissed her stomach. She giggled.
‘You goon.’ She pulled her t-shirt up to free him. ‘God, I’m hungry again.’ She padded into the kitchen, and he followed her, tugging his own t-shirt on. She peered into the refrigerator, wrinkling her nose. ‘I don’t know what’s up with my appetite lately. I’m ordering pizza.’
At midnight, Isa flicked the t.v. off. Sam was asleep in her arms, his head resting against her breasts, his arms locked around her waist. She stroked his dark hair gently then winced as a stomach cramp hit her.
‘Jeez,’ she breathed, trying to quell the pain without waking Sam. Another one hit and she felt a wave of nausea. She slid out of Sam’s arms as gently as she could, but he opened his eyes, blinked.
‘What’s up?’
She stroked his face. ‘Sssh, go back to sleep. I just have to pee.’
In the bathroom, she bent double as the cramps got worse. She frowned; it couldn’t be her period; she didn’t get them thanks to the IUD. She sat on the edge of the tub, and after a while, they passed, her muscles relaxing and she sighed with relief. She went into the kitchen and drank a glass of water. Her cell phone was on the counter top, flashing. A text. She picked it up. The message had been sent less a minute ago.
You look beautiful in that pink t-shirt. I’d like you to wear it when I kill you.
She gasped, dropping the phone, her panicked gaze shooting towards the window. A dark shadow moved outside of it.
‘SAM!’ She could not help the raw terror as she screamed his name. He was there in an instant.
‘There’s someone out there. He was watching me.’
Sam was at the door. ‘Lock this behind me,’ he ordered as he disappeared through it. She did as she was told, her heart beating wildly. She went to the window, but all she could see was the black night. The silence was deafening, and she started in shock as her cell phone bleeped again.
He shouldn’t leave you alone like that. Anyone could be watching. Anyone with a knife.
Suddenly she was wildly angry. She dialed the number the text came from and to her surprise, whoever it was answered.
‘Fuck you, you creep.’ Her voice was shaking; such was her anger.
‘I’d like you to fuck me, Isabel. Or rather, I’d like to fuck you as I stab you to death.’
He laughed and the sound of his voice, the realness of him, suddenly hit her. He spoke in a hoarse whisper, and she couldn’t work out whether it was real or faked. She didn’t recognize it whatever. ‘Did you like my little calling card? Did you wonder where you got that mysterious cut on your belly? You should have locked your do
or, you beautiful girl.’
She sank to the floor. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Because I want to kill you, lovely Isabel, to feel your precious blood on my hands. Haven’t I made that clear? It won’t be a nick in your skin, next time; it’ll be my knife tearing into you over and over and over again. Enjoy the time you have left.’ He hung up.
Sam banged on the door, and she cried out in terror, whirling around, panicked
‘Sweetheart, it’s me, let me in.’
She yanked open the door and fell sobbing into his arms.
‘He was here…’ she choked out, and Sam’s face was filled with horror, ‘The other night… the night you came home from New York. It was him, he cut me, Oh god… oh God….’
Sam let his hand drift gently down the skin of her bare back. Her face, even in sleep, showed the signs of the stress of the last week. The calls and texts from her would-be-murderer had become ever more graphic until, finally, despite the advice from the police, she’d thrown her phone against the wall and shattered it.
Isa refused to leave her apartment, despite the intruder. ‘That fucker isn’t going to run me out of my own home,’ she raged after Sam had gently suggested they move to his city apartment. But she hadn’t been alone since, and Sam had arranged for all her locks, her windows, and doors to be reinforced. She didn’t object. The thought that her stalker had been close enough to cut her… God. Terrifying.
Sam sighed. He had suggested he cancel his meeting in San Francisco, but Isa had refused.
‘Cal will be here with me,’ she said, then added with a grin, ‘And your robocops will be outside.’
He’d hired security – of course, he had. The only downside was that they’d had to tell Zoe about the death threats. Her reaction was as Isa had expected: complete hysterics. It had taken all four them: Sam, Isa, Seb and Cal to calm her down.
Isa stirred and opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at him. ‘Hey, you.’ Sam kissed her as she turned onto her back to look at him. She glanced over at the clock and made a face.
The Midnight Club Page 38