by Lynne Stevie
“A man? What did he say?” Maloran’s voice seemed to deepen with curiosity.
“It sounded as if he knew me or I should know him. He had a strange accent, maybe European? I couldn’t place it. He said he hoped that I could forgive his associate for his behavior, like he was apologizing for somebody having bad table manners, rather than attacking me. He didn’t threaten me, but he wouldn’t tell me who he was, either. Alan took the phone and he hung up. I have a bad feeling that this won’t be the last time I hear from him.”
“Why’s that?”
“He just sounded happy to hear from me. Like he wants to be my friend, if you know what I mean.”
“That could work in our favor. I assumed they’d dump the phone; that’s why I didn’t put a trace on it. But I’ll get our tech department to do that. What’s the number?”
I gave him the number and asked, “Do you need our account information?”
“No, that should be all I need. Now, what else happened?” He asked it as if he could tell I was holding something back.
“Sorry, that’s all he said.” I didn’t want to share that he had called me a goddess or that his voice made me want to strip naked and roll around in satin. It just sounded too ridiculous to repeat, and I needed time to think it through.
“Mrs. Lewis, Lexie, don’t work this on your own. He’s already taken you against your will once. You may not get away next time. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.” As I said it my shoulders slumped.
“Something gives me the feeling that I’m not hearing the whole story either. I may be wrong. But I doubt it. I’ve heard of your firm and I know you do some good work, but this is a police investigation. Moreover, you can’t be objective when you’re the victim. Now take care of yourself, don’t do anything stupid, and call if anything else happens. I’ll be in touch as soon as we hear something about the trace.”
Then he was gone, no good-bye or anything. It had been a long time since anyone had lectured me like that, probably not since my dad died. I wished he were here.
“Lexie, you need to rest. Come on, let’s go upstairs. Before your bath is stone cold.”
Alan had finished cleaning up my broken glass and was determined to get me away from the phone.
“Just a sec, Alan, I want to call Kim and have her order me a new phone.” Looking up at him, I saw how tired he was. “Honey, I’m sorry. You’re exhausted. Go on up. I’ll be right there. I promise.”
I picked up the phone and dialed the office. Then I realized that I never did check my messages. The hell with that. I wasn’t up to talking to Mr. Hypnotic Voice again. If it was important, they’d call back.
When Kim answered, she asked me how I was feeling. “Fine,” I told her. I was really getting sick of that word. Fine.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. Ottie said you didn’t feel well today. Do you need me to do anything? ” Kim sounded concerned. I rarely call off work so she knows some things up but, ya gotta love Ottie---he knows me so well. He must not have told her about my little trip to the hospital. I’m glad he didn’t make a big deal about the incident. See I can’t even think the words; attack, kidnapping, or mugging. And because of that, I couldn’t let it go.
“Yes, actually I do. Can you ask Devon to trace my cell phone?” I wasn’t really going back on my word to Maloran. I wouldn’t be personally involved. No harm in just having Devon check. “I lost it last night and I want to see if anyone’s using it. Tell him that I lost it about 10:30. He is to report to me or Ottie only, okay?”
“Sure, I’ll call him now and I’ll order you a new one. YOU take care of yourself and get some rest.” Kim is a nurturer; she really takes care of Ottie and me.
“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hit the end button and set the phone down by the fridge, but my hand wouldn’t release it. A shiver went down my spine as sweat broke out on my forehead.
The man on the phone knew my full name. Nobody knows my middle name —nobody who’s alive, anyway. I hate the name Marietta; I use the initial M. Even my birth certificate just has the letter M for a middle name. Nobody at the agency knows it. Even Alan doesn’t know it.
Dad thought it was funny. Since he owned a detective agency, he wanted to keep people guessing. It’s become a joke, everyone tried to guess.
I had millions of questions, but I wasn’t likely to get any answers tonight. I managed to relay a message from my brain to my fingers, ordering them to let go of the phone. My mouth was dry. So I didn’t think. I just grabbed a cold Yuengling from the fridge and headed for the stairs.
Chapter 4
Needs Met
As I rounded the bed on my way to the bathroom, I squeezed Alan’s toes. He’d taken his usual spot, with book in hand. I love the way he looks when he lounges in bed. He’d taken his shirt off and as he adjusted his pillows I could see his stomach muscles tighten and ripple. He hasn’t changed a bit since his college baseball days—he’s still got those broad shoulders, narrow waist, and crystal-blue eyes peeking out from under thick lashes. His wavy, dark-blonde hair was a rumpled mess, which just made him look yummier to me. At 6'4" he’s just the right height, and his body is nice and lean since he runs regularly, but he has just enough meat on his bones to show that he’s not obsessed. I never want a man who spends more time on his looks than I spend on mine.
Giving him a good long look, I thought of an activity that might help me relax more than a bath.
“Alan, I’m sorry that you were up all night. Would you like to join me in the bath? I’ll make it up to you.” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh. I’m exhausted, honey, and I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’ll take a rain check.” Alan raised his book back to his face, and rubbed his bruised jaw.
Grrreeeat, now I was reminded that I hit him. Well, at least I had my Yuengling and a hot bath to help me relax.
The steam hit me as soon as I opened the bathroom door. Ooh, that’s nice. I think of my bathroom as a personal retreat. Dennis helped me remodel it after Dad passed, and I went all out. My antique claw-foot tub is surrounded by windows so I can look out at the trees. I added oversized pedestal sinks and my great-grandmothers secretary, which sets next to the tub and serves as a vanity. Setting my beer on the pull-down desk, I got out a big terrycloth towel and undressed.
I tested the water. It needed to be hotter—Alan was right about that. I turned on the faucet and let the steaming water trickle into the tub as I veerrry slowly slipped in. Goose bumps popped up as my skin reacted to the hot water. I stretched out and settled in, while babying my injured hand. Ahhhhh. The water felt great and began to work its magic.
Leaning my head back against the porcelain, I concentrated on the feeling of the tiny air bubbles that slowly rose against my skin. I hadn’t realized how tense I was; it felt like my shoulders were up next to my ears. I let my arms float and worked on slowing down my heart rate.
After a few minutes I reached out with my foot and turned the hot water off. I stared up at the chandelier over the tub. The dangling crystals broke the light into a million colors that bounced against the walls. Did I mention that I love my bathroom? Dennis had had a fit when I said I wanted to put the old dining room chandelier up here, but I just waited until after the county inspection and did it myself. The county frowns on having hanging lights over open water. Huh. I wonder why?
Using my towel and my one good hand, I managed to twist off the cap on my Yuengling and have a nice, long gulp. That’s what I needed, although sex would have been nice, too. If only I could close my eyes and forget about the last twenty-four hours. But when I closed my eyes, all I could see is Alan’s busted lip.
How could I have lost it like that? And before that, I’d had no drugs in my system, no injuries, and yet I passed out for hours. My head hurt from thinking.
I dunked under the water, using my good hand to push my hair back and massage my head. Ow—shit. Why was my head sore? I prodded my scalp with my f
ingertips and then
I remembered the red wig. That bastard! He must have torn the wig right from my head, taking small clumps of hair and skin with it.
Why can’t I remember what happened? Tomorrow I’ll call the guys at the lab and see if they have any ideas about what could have been used to knock me out.
I washed my hair, soaked, buffed, and polished the rest of my body. My feet were nasty since I’d been running around without shoes all day; definitely time for a pedicure. Eventually my fingers and toes were so prune-y I had to get out.
After drying off, I wiped off a section of mirror to look at my scalp. My birthmark caught my attention first; it was a darker pink than normal.
My hair’s a little long in front, so my bangs hide the little pink patch on my forehead. Plus, it’s usually really light. I hadn’t noticed the patch in years; maybe it was getting darker with age. Or maybe I was just over heated. Oh well. I’d live.
Alan was snoring, poor guy—he really was tired. Hum… I should take a little afternoon nap myself. But I felt restless, not sleepy. Nothing made any sense today.
I quietly slipped on a t-shirt and some old sweats and headed downstairs. Grabbing my laptop and another Yuengling from the kitchen, I settled into my favorite chair in our sunroom. A feeling of peace always surrounds me in this room. Added on for my great-grandmother, Evangeline, who liked to grow her own herbs, it’s sort of like a greenhouse and sunroom put together. I checked my email and then surfed the web, hoping to find some explanations for my blackout.
Then I remembered the name the strange man had called me. It sounded like “Kadesh goddess.” I typed it into the search engine and got a zillion hits on “Qadesh, an Egyptian Goddess.” Could his accent have been Egyptian?
According to most of the web sites, Qadesh was indeed a female goddess in ancient Egypt. One site had a picture of a nude female standing on a lioness, holding a snake and a dagger. Cool.
But then I froze as I read, “symbolizing sexual pleasure, sacred ecstasy, and fertility” and then, skimming, I saw, “form of worship—sacred sex....” Crap! How did I get mixed up with this whack job who thinks I’m some sort of Egyptian goddess?
Disgusted and oddly anxious, I turned off the computer and decided to check in with Ottie and see how the Janeck case was going. I looked for my phone on the table beside me and then remembered that I didn’t have a phone anymore, so I headed to the kitchen to get the old portable. Ottie picked up on the third ring.
“It’s your dime,” Ottie broke the silence with his odd greeting.
“Ya know it costs fifty cents to make a phone call now, right? That’s if you can find a pay phone.”
“Hey, Lexie. How you feelin?”
“Great, actually, but I’m pissed that I can’t remember what happened. And, oh yeah, guess what else is missing….that red wig I love. That bastard must have ripped it right off my head. I’ve got the scabs to prove it.”
“Man—that sucks! But, remember, you’re fine. That’s what matters.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I didn’t call to bitch. How’s the Janeck case going? Anything happen today, while I was otherwise engaged?”
“Not really. I relieved Riley after I left you at the hospital. Philip hasn’t left the house and he hasn’t even opened the curtains. Maybe he’s sleeping off a bender or something. Did he drink much last night?”
“No, he seemed sober enough. Did Riley have anything to report?”
“Riley gave me a full report...of empty pages. Says the guy had no visitors and no activity at the house. Lights stayed on in the kitchen and living room all night. I haven’t seen any changes today, either. It’s sort of strange; wouldn’t you even check the mail or something?”
“You’d think. Well, we don’t have any cause to check the house, so just keep watching. Who’s on tonight?”
“Riley’s coming back as soon as he sleeps and showers, probably around two. I was planning to call Mrs. Janeck in the morning. Let her know that we haven’t gotten anywhere and its okay to return from her ‘trip.’ We need to find out if she still wants us to tail him. It’s your call, but the guy seems legit.”
“Yeah, maybe he’s on the level. But something isn’t right with this situation. I just can’t put my finger on it. I’ll bet he’s into something.”
“I try never to fight woman’s intuition, and I have to admit I’ve got a bad feeling about this house with no movement inside. We should have had her sign a release to bug the place.”
“I’ll remember that for next time. Maybe I’m just being pessimistic after everything last night. Thanks for taking care of this one; I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Call me if our friend gets any visitors tonight.”
“You got it. See ya at the office tomorrow, peace out.”
I put the phone on the charger and checked out dinner options. Yea! Alan had gone to the store, and we had steak, potatoes, and stuff for salad. The perfect meal. I got things assembled, marinating the steak and washing the potatoes, dicing and chopping things for the salad. Thankfully, these mundane jobs kept my mind busy.
Alan came down just as I was finishing the prep work and loading the potatoes into the oven to bake. He looked rested and tussled in his washed-out jeans and t-shirt. I love watching him walk around barefoot in Levi’s.
“Hi,” I said wrapping myself around his lean frame. Just the smell of his skin sent a shiver through me. I looked up into his light-blue eyes and was almost overwhelmed with the urge to climb up his body and make love to him right there. The kiss I gave him must have conveyed that desire, because he pulled his lips away to look into my eyes. I could see the hunger in his, too. But I could also see hesitation.
“What, I can’t come on to my husband?” I said with real anguish.
“Hummm,” he said nuzzling my neck, “you know I want you.” Then he picked me up and set me on the counter. He used his body to push my legs apart so I could feel just how much he wanted me. “I’m just nervous about your state of mind. Honey, you were just attacked, and you’re acting as if nothing happened.” He kissed the back of my injured hand. “I’m worried.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, I could feel him throbbing against me. A little breathlessly, I whispered into his ear. “Haven’t you ever heard of physical therapy?” That was all it took for him to forget his reservations and give in to me.
I lay in bed listening to Alan snore. Alan and I have always had a good physical relationship, but we’ve been married for close to ten years. For a while now whenever we’ve made love, there’s always a little part of my mind that’s thinking about my to-do list.
Not tonight. Tonight we’d had mind-blowing sex. I’ve never felt so out of control or absorbed in the moment. Just thinking about it made me smile and yearn for more.
All my needs had been met. Even the food had tasted better than normal. As I drifted off to sleep, I felt content and happy.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about my new admirer. Mr. Hypnotic Voice.
Chapter 5
The Scent of Roses
Floating… I’m floating in warm water... mmm… it’s the perfect temperature, although it feels thicker and heavier than water should. I hope I don’t wake up. This is a great dream. It feels so real. I can even smell…
Oh god, I feel hands all over my body. Startled, I open my eyes. The light is very dim, and it flickers like a candle or a torch. The ceiling... it’s so far away, and it looks like it’s made of stone or rock.
Panic threatens to overcome me, but the hands gently washing my hair pull me back into the euphoria of the dream. I raise one hand and watched the liquid coat my fingers and palm, and then run down my arm. The water seems white against my skin. A soft, dark-olive hand takes my extended arm before I have time to worry about the color of the water and gently massages my hand.
I’m naked, exposed. However, the sensual experience—the hands, too many to count, gently supporting and cleansing my body—overpower m
y anxiety. The sensation is both soothing and breathtaking. My mind is fuzzy… I’m conscious enough to feel what’s going on, but not enough to speak or turn my head to see whose massaging and washing me.
Their touch is very intimate. Yet I know it’s not Alan. I should try to wake up, but this feels so wonderful I want to enjoy every moment. Ah….
I must have drifted deeper into sleep for a moment, because I’m out of the water now. I can feel a soft bed around me and my face is resting gently on soft petals. The scent of roses surrounds me; it’s so strong, I can almost taste them on my tongue. Hands massage my skin with some kind of oil.
“Wonderful...roses.” The hands gently roll me onto my back. A soft breeze against my naked breasts sends a chill through me. I just can’t make myself feel self-conscious. I know I should, but it’s a dream, why not enjoy it?
“Who?” I finally manage to ask. No one answers. The hands just keep rubbing the oil all over my body, working in perfect synchronization. I slide my fingers through the soft rose petals, enjoying the creamy texture. “What an amazing dream,” I manage to say in a low mumble.
“This is as it can be, Alexandria, my Qadesh, if you choose to come back to me.”
My eyes open, my mind instantly alert, but my body is still numb. I see a man kneeling beside me; he has a small cloth draped around his waist, leaving the rest of his body bare. Power radiates off his glistening olive skin. My bare skin tingles where it touches his thigh. My eye follows the line of his arm up to his broad chest; he is smooth and muscled. A tattoo wraps around his shoulders like an ancient necklace. The sculpted muscles of his shoulders and neck make a perfect frame for his smooth, bald head.
I meet his gaze. His deep onyx eyes mesmerize me; he has me trapped. I don’t want to look away. The deep black kohl eye liner, which runs to an extreme point in the corner of his eyes made his face even more dramatic.
His fingers caress my face, following the line of my chin to my neck. They flow over my nipple, down my stomach, and out over my hip. A spin-tingling thrill goes through my body as his fingers skim over my skin. Without shame I arch my hips to meet his touch. His hand returns to my face and traces my lips. My tongue follows the path of his finger, only to realize he’s put something on my lips. The taste is metallic, but sweet. My eyes close as he whispers in my ear. “Dreams can be made real, my Qadesh.” His cold breathe on my skin makes me burn with need.