Sarah Woods Mystery Series (1-6) Boxed Set

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Sarah Woods Mystery Series (1-6) Boxed Set Page 46

by Jennifer L. Jennings


  “Is it because you’re feeling guilty about Emily and you need to prove something to yourself?”

  I pointed to my watch. “Come on, it’s almost nine. I wanted to get there by eight-thirty.”

  Carter faced me. “Sarah, it’s not your fault that Paul is dead. You know that, right?”

  “Sure. Whatever. Can we go now?”

  A few minutes later, Carter pulled into the lot and parked behind the dumpster. He turned to face me again. “Listen … don’t underestimate this creep, okay? If he invites you back to his house, assume he’s going to expect a little action.”

  “That’s why I came prepared,” I said, holding up my clutch.

  “If you don’t come out of his house within twenty minutes, I’m coming in.”

  “That doesn’t give me much time.”

  “How much time do you need?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, reaching into my purse for some lipstick. I freshened up my face and took a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

  Carter nodded. “Okay. Off you go.”

  My stomach began churning when I entered the bar. How the hell was I going to capture Gavin’s attention when most of the women in the joint were wearing less clothing than I was. I didn’t think that was possible.

  Then I remembered an article I’d read somewhere in a magazine. Stroke a man’s ego, and he’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand.

  Better get busy stroking.

  The tattooed bartender didn’t recognize me at first, but after a few seconds I sensed a spark of recognition. A smile creased his pockmarked face. “Hey, if it isn’t the funny lady. You look purdy. Got a hot date tonight?”

  “No,” I said, taking an empty barstool. “Just me. Again.” I gave him a sad face and he laughed.

  “You won’t be alone very long when the regulars see you in that dress.”

  “What I need is a stiff drink.”

  “You came to the right place.”

  “Someone told me that the owner of this bar makes the best Rusty Nail. Is that true?”

  He looked offended. “Who, Gavin? That’s debatable.”

  “Hmm. Maybe we should have a blind taste test. I’ll be the judge.”

  The bartender held up a finger. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  I looked around, taking in the raw energy of the place. Three or four couples were dancing to an early Bruce Springsteen song, but most of the patrons were crowded around a pool match. It sounded like people were placing bets.

  When I turned back, Gavin and the bartender had reappeared.

  Gavin’s eyes got wide when he saw me. “Hey, you’re Danielle’s friend, Sarah, right?”

  “Good memory,” I said, trying not to focus on his absurd comb-over. He probably thought he looked sexy in his black button down shirt and gold chains.

  He grinned. “So, are you ready to be blindfolded?”

  “Ooh. Sounds naughty. I’m up for anything.”

  Gavin’s eyebrows shot up. “I like that.” He grabbed a bar towel and folded it lengthwise. “Allow me.”

  He leaned over the bar and tied it around my head. I almost choked on the smell of stale beer. With my eyes shrouded, my hearing became more acute. Gavin and the bartender were whispering to each other about my cleavage.

  “Don’t make the drinks too strong,” I said. “I get tipsy pretty fast.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Gavin said. “We’ll take good care of you.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  A moment later the towel came off and I looked down. Two glasses had been placed on the counter in front of me.

  “Well?” Gavin said. “Go ahead.”

  I took a sip of the one on the right and nodded. “Pretty good,” I said. I took a sip of the other one and let the spicy licorice taste linger on my taste buds. It was a little stronger than the first. “I have to say, I like the second one a little better.”

  Gavin hung his head.

  The bartender held out his palm. “Fifty bucks, please.”

  Gavin slapped the money in his hand and made a gesture for him to get lost.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “Whatever.”

  “If it’s any consolation, you’re better looking than he is,” I said, referring to the bartender.

  Gavin smiled. “I already knew that.”

  “So.” I leaned toward him, acting coy. “Are you and Danielle an item?”

  “Sometimes. Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t be talking to you. She might get pissed off if she finds out.”

  “Why does she have to find out?” he asked.

  “I guess she doesn’t.”

  “It’s not like we’re exclusive,” he said, leaning toward me. “I can date whoever I want.”

  “I get the feeling you’re not the relationship type.”

  He laughed. “Why get tied down? Variety is the key to a happy life.”

  “I like variety, too,” I said.

  “Is that right? Could you be more specific?”

  “I think you know what I’m talking about.”

  Gavin leaned in closer and I could smell his rancid breath. “What’s your story? Why is a classy woman like you hanging around a bar all by herself?”

  “I was hoping to meet up with an intelligent, good-looking man. Know any?” I asked.

  He gave me a smug grin and thumbed his chest. “You’re looking at him, sweetheart.”

  I took a few more sips, smiled, and never broke eye contact with him. “You know, I have to admit, when I met you the other night, I guess I felt there might be a connection. Was I wrong?”

  Gavin nodded. “You knew Danielle called in sick tonight, didn’t you?”

  I shrugged. “When do you get off work tonight?” I asked.

  “I can leave whenever I want. I own this place, remember?”

  He wouldn’t let me forget. “So,” I said, playing with the pendant of my necklace. “You live close by?”

  “Why? You want to get out of here?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Where’s your car?” he asked.

  “I got in a fight with my boyfriend. He dropped me off.”

  “Is your boyfriend a big tough guy?”

  “Are you kidding? He’s a wimp. Even I could beat him up.”

  He laughed. “So, he just left you without a ride home?”

  “No big deal. I could call a cab if I need to.” I took another sip of the drink and looked around. “Busy place tonight. You got some kind of pool tournament going on?”

  “Yeah. You play?”

  “No, I’m not very good with balls.”

  He licked his lips and smiled. “Maybe you just need more practice.”

  “Maybe.”

  Gavin leaned over the bar and fondled a strand of my hair. “So what do you do, Sarah?”

  “I used to be a massage therapist. I sold my business last year.”

  “A masseuse, huh? Bet you have strong hands.”

  “And I know how to use them,” I teased.

  He smiled. I had his full attention.

  “Anyway,” I continued. “I’m in between jobs at the moment. Just trying to figure out my next move.”

  “I have a great suggestion,” he said. “Why don’t you finish your drinks and meet me in the parking lot in five minutes.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I keep the good alcohol at my house.”

  “I hope you don’t have a dog. I’m allergic.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I keep Cujo in the back yard.”

  Chapter 24

  Gavin’s house didn’t look any different than it had last week. Party central. He didn’t seem concerned about the porn videos lying around the living room, and I didn’t bring attention to them.

  “Would you like that drink I promised?” he asked, heading to the kitchen.

  I followed close behind. “Sure, what do you have?”

  “Anything
you want: beer, wine, tequila, vodka … you name it.”

  Dozens of bottles lined the counter. “Hmm, you weren’t kidding. You certainly enjoy your liquor.”

  “It’s a passion of mine. Owning a bar has its benefits.”

  I set my purse down on a nearby stool, keeping it close, then glanced at my watch. I had been in the house for almost five minutes. That left fifteen to go. “I see you have quite a collection of high-end scotch.”

  Gavin smiled and picked up one of the bottles. “Have you ever tried thirty year old scotch?”

  “No, but it sounds expensive.”

  “This one retails for over a grand. This one over here, almost two grand.”

  “For one bottle? Jeesh. What would a girl have to do for a glass of that?”

  “How about a kiss for starters?”

  I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  He raised a greasy eyebrow. “That’s it?”

  “There’s more where that came from,” I told him.

  “Good. In that case. I’ll let you sample this.” He fondled the neck of the elegant bottle before pouring a small amount into a glass. “This is a Macallan Single Malt. My favorite. There’s only a limited supply of these beauties.”

  “Smells fruity,” I said.

  “Try it.”

  I tipped back the glass and swallowed, trying not to cough. My eyes watered. “Oh my. It’s like heaven.”

  He sipped from the same glass. “There’s nothing like it.”

  “Do you serve this at the bar?”

  He shook his head. “What’s the point? Most people won’t spend a hundred bucks on a glass of scotch.”

  “I can understand why.”

  “Funny thing is, most people wouldn’t know the difference between this and a ten dollar bottle of crap. I can’t stomach the cheap stuff anymore.”

  I nodded in appreciation. “If I were you, I’d buy this in bulk, put it away for ten years, then sell it for a bundle.”

  He scoffed at the comment. “I might be dead in ten years.”

  “Good point. Enjoy it now.”

  “I intend to.”

  “I’d like to own a business[V33] again,” I said. “I liked being my own boss.”

  “It’s harder than most people think. Employees can be a pain in the ass. Especially when they steal from you.”

  “Really?” I said, feigning interest. “That’s awful. Does that happen a lot?”

  “As far as my insurance company is concerned, it does.”

  I gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t understand?”

  Gavin sputtered a patronizing laugh. “Never mind. Its highly classified information. Totally above your pay grade.”

  “Whatever. I don’t think much of insurance companies. I screw them every chance I get. But you probably wouldn’t have the balls to do something like that.”

  “Oh, really? You don’t think I actually paid for those bottles of scotch, do you? I have a little insurance scam up and running, too. You know … to feed my whisky habit.”

  “Cool. Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

  “I’ve paid them enough money over the years. It’s about time I started getting something in return.”

  “Exactly.”

  Gavin took a step toward me. “So, shall we get this party started?”

  I hoped the expression on my face didn’t tip him off about my anxiety level. I took another sip of scotch and handed the glass back to him. I had his confession. It was time to get out. “What did you have in mind?”

  He wet his lips as he gazed at my chest. “You seem nervous, Sarah. You’re not going to chicken out on me, are you?”

  I took a step back. “Chicken out on what?”

  “Let’s just cut to the chase, okay? I know why you came here tonight,” he said.

  “I was hoping to come here tonight to get to know you better.”

  Gavin narrowed his eyes and wet his lips again. “Danielle must have told you, huh?”

  “Told me what?”

  “She told you what I like to do.”

  “Um, actually she didn’t give me specifics,” I glanced at my watch again. Five minutes left.

  Gavin took a step toward me and fondled my breasts. “Tell me Sarah, how do you prefer to be tied up?”

  My breath caught in my throat but I quickly recovered. “You want to tie me up?”

  “One of my specialties,” he said, grinning.

  “Right. Well. That sounds tempting,” I said, removing his hands. “Haven’t you ever heard that slow and steady wins the race?”

  He leaned over until our faces were inches apart. “Take your clothes off.”

  I took another step back and placed my hand on his chest. “Not so fast. I need a few minutes to freshen up.”

  He grabbed my arm and squeezed. “I like you dirty.”

  “Look, if you let me grab my purse over there, I need to get my inhaler. The dog hair in the house is making me wheeze.”

  “It doesn’t sound like your wheezing.”

  I eyed my purse while trying to wriggle free. “Can I at least go pee?” I asked.

  His grip did not lighten as he pulled me closer. “As long as I can watch.”

  “Fine with me.” I tried to pull back again, but his grasp wouldn’t allow it. “Save the manhandling for the bedroom. You need to work up to that with me. It needs to build up slowly … you know, just like an orgasm.”

  Gavin smirked. “I know how it works.”

  “Can I get my purse, please?”

  His grip tightened, cutting off the circulation in my arm. I tried to stay calm. “Do you get pleasure from hurting women, Gavin?”

  “Most women like to be hurt. They just won’t admit it.”

  I almost spit in his face, but I forced myself to breathe. “It’s true. I love to be hurt. How do you know women so well?”

  “I’ve had lots of practice. And it’s gonna be fun getting more with you.”

  “Do you like to experiment on little girls, too?”

  He narrowed his eyes and smiled. “The younger, the better. Only problem is, they tend to run home crying to their daddies.”

  “You’re better off sticking with older women like me. We appreciate a good, hard lay.”

  “I take whatever comes my way. If you’re willing, I’m able. If you’re not willing, too fucking bad.”

  “I like the sound of that. You really know how to turn a girl on. Now, please excuse me. I need that inhaler.”

  Before I had a chance to move, Gavin leaned over and grabbed my purse from the stool. “Cute little bag,” he said, unzipping the top. “Allow me to get your medication. It’s the least I can do.”

  “No, that’s okay,” I said lunging toward him to snatch the purse. He turned to the right, and I missed.

  He started laughing. “Look at you. Such a little spitfire. I like that kind of spunk in a woman.”

  “Please, just give me my purse. My lungs are starting to burn.”

  Gavin backed up a few steps and opened the purse. He peered inside. “Well, well. What have we got here?” He held the pepper spray in his hand and smiled. “Somehow I don’t think this would help your asthma very much.”

  “Oh no,” I said, “I must have put the wrong canister in my purse. Are you telling me my inhaler isn’t in there?”

  Gavin dropped the purse, along with the pepper spray, and kicked the items across the floor to the far side of the room. “Did you think I was gonna hurt you, Sarah?”

  Gavin shoved me back against the counter and laughed when I winced. “Do you like that?” he asked. “Cuz I have a lot of hurting to give.”

  I had to catch my breath. “Like I said, honey, it’s better if you let the pain build gradually.”

  He slapped me across the face. I was so startled I couldn’t speak.

  “Didn’t see that coming, did you?” he said, apparently proud of himself. “You sluts are all the same. You say you want it hard, but then you get all w
eak.”

  I could tell Gavin was gearing up for more, but a loud knock on the door surprised us both.

  “Shit. Maybe Danielle found out I was here,” I said.

  “Go into the bedroom right now. I’ll get rid of her.” He opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a gun.

  “What the hell?” I said. “You’re not going to shoot her!”

  “Danielle can be a crazy bitch when she gets pissed. I told you to go into the bedroom.” He nudged me with the gun as the banging on the door intensified.

  “Maybe I should just leave,” I said. “I don’t want to cause a fight between you two.”

  He gave me a stern look. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  If Gavin enjoyed beating and raping, perhaps killing wasn’t out of the question, either.

  “Go see if it’s her.” I said. “I’ll wait here in the kitchen.”

  I had to act fast. Carter had come to rescue me, and I didn’t want him to get shot.

  The pepper spray canister was clear across the room. I had to find another weapon. I grabbed the thousand-dollar bottle of scotch by the neck.

  Before Gavin could open the door, I ran up behind him and whacked him over the head.

  His legs gave out and he collapsed to the carpet without a word.

  So long, sucker.

  The front door opened and I looked up.

  Carter stood there glaring at me, Taser gun in one hand. Lock-pick in the other. He glanced down at Gavin, then back at me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He looked at the bottle in my hand. “You hit him with that?”

  “I was afraid he might shoot you.”

  Gavin moaned as he tried to lift his head. “Who are you people?”

  Carter pulled down his sleeves, picked up Gavin’s gun, and removed the bullets. “Let’s go, Sarah.”

  I couldn’t help myself—I kicked Gavin in the stomach as hard as I could. “That’s for slapping me, you piece of shit.”

  Gavin curled into a ball, coughing uncontrollably.

  Ten minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of a local gas station. I got out, walked over to the black Cadillac, and handed Dylan McCormick my necklace. “The whole conversation with Gavin is on this device,” I said. “But I’d like the necklace back when you’re done. It was a gift.”

 

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