Beach Reads Boxed Set

by Marie Force

  “What did Carly and Brian say about his social standing in school?” Nate asked.

  “Interestingly, in separate interviews they both used the same words to describe him. They said he was always just there, but neither of them was close to him. Carly said she’s been friendlier with him at Miss Molly’s than she ever was in school.”

  “And neither of them got the sense he wanted to be closer to them when they were still in school?” Nate asked.

  “No,” Michael said.

  “I say we pick him up and have a talk with him,” Nate said. “I’ll also see about getting a warrant to search his house.”

  “Isn’t that premature?” Jeff asked. “I mean, we have one odd conversation in a cemetery—and isn’t every conversation in a cemetery odd? That’s not enough to bring him in. Not to mention if it is him, we’d be tipping our hand that we’re on to him.”

  “While I hear what you’re saying, Jeff, we’ve got three murders and multiple aggravated sexual assaults on our hands here,” Nate said. “And this is as close as we’ve come to a suspect. I want to talk to him.” To Michael, he added, “Pick him up.”

  “Sorry, Jeff, but I agree with Nate,” Michael said.

  “For what it’s worth,” Matt said, “I’ve been rereading the reports and interviews with the victims and their families. I noticed something interesting.”

  “What’s that?” Jeff asked.

  “Well, I kept asking myself—why would he kill two of the girls, and the boyfriend of one of them, and not kill the other girls? So I started looking at common characteristics between Alicia and Kelly Graves, the girl from the carjacking. Both their mothers used similar words to describe them—one said firecracker, and the other said spark plug.”

  “So what’re you thinking?” Nate asked.

  “That they fought him and pissed him off, so he killed them.”

  Michael sat back in his chair to think about that. “And the other girls, the ones who lived to tell, didn’t fight him.”

  “That’s right,” Matt said. “Tanya Lewis told us that she kept quiet and let him do what he was going to do. She said she was too petrified to say a word, which is apparently how he likes them, nice and docile. Alicia’s mother said she would’ve fought him like a tomcat.”

  “Tanya also said he seemed to like it when she cried out in pain,” Michael recalled.

  “The others said that, too,” Nate added. “So the secret to staying alive is to lie there and take it?”

  “Apparently,” Matt said grimly. “The autopsies on the carjacking victims indicated Kelly died an hour or so after the boyfriend, which I take to mean he made her watch him kill her boyfriend.”

  “Among other things,” Jeff said.

  “Most likely,” Matt concurred.

  “So we know he likes to be respected,” Nate concluded. “Even by girls he’s about to rape. This guy just gets sicker by the minute, doesn’t he?” To Michael, he said, “Have you gotten anywhere with Brian about letting us set something up using Carly as bait?”

  Michael shook his head. “I think that’s a dead end.”

  “Well, let’s pick up this Luke McInnis and see where that takes us,” Nate said.

  The late afternoon sun was warm as Brian rested facedown next to Carly on the blanket they had spread on the beach in Falmouth, Massachusetts. Zoë had wandered down to the water’s edge to collect some shells to take home to her brother and sister.

  Carly reached across the blanket to hold his hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Content—something I haven’t experienced very often.”

  “She likes you.”

  Brian couldn’t believe how much that pleased him. “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “She’s fabulous. I feel like I need a bigger word, though, because even that one doesn’t do her justice.”

  “I know what you mean. Did you talk to your mother?”

  “Just for a few minutes, when you and Zoë were swimming.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Okay, I guess.” He pushed himself up on one elbow. “It’s a lot for her to absorb. Maybe I shouldn’t have told them. I don’t know.”

  “You were right to tell them. She’ll see that eventually.”

  “I guess we can only hope so. I called my dad, too. He said they’re bringing Luke in for questioning.”

  Carly frowned. “They’re barking up the wrong tree there.”

  “What if they aren’t? What if it is him?”

  “I just can’t imagine a guy I’ve known all my life—someone I’ve thought of as a friend—being capable of the kind of things they’re saying this man has done. That Luke McInnis could be the one who caused the accident, who killed Sam and the others . . .”

  “I know, hon. It boggles my mind, too.”

  “He came to my defense.” Carly sat up as she remembered. “I was so rattled last night by your dad suggesting it could be Luke, I forgot to tell him.”

  Brian sat up, too. “What do you mean ‘came to your defense’?”

  “There was a guy in the coffee shop giving me a hard time because I couldn’t talk. He was obnoxious. Luke got in his face and said, ‘No one treats Carly that way.’ He was quite intimidating. What do you suppose that means in light of everything?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s interesting. My dad would want to know about it.” Brian reached into Carly’s beach bag for his cell, pressed number one on his speed dial, and waited. “Dad? Hey, Carly remembered something else about Luke. I’ll let her tell you.” As he handed the phone to Carly, Zoë returned to the blanket.

  Carly got up and walked away with the phone.

  “What did you find?” Brian asked Zoë.

  She held the hem of her T-shirt, which she had filled with shells. “This scallop shell is the best one. Lilly will love it.” She glanced at Carly. “Who’s she talking to?”

  “My dad. Something about the case.”

  He watched as a shadow descended over Zoë’s sunny disposition. Just like Carly, Zoë’s every emotion showed on her face.

  “Sit down. Let’s see what else you’ve got there.”

  She did as he asked, but her enthusiasm for the shells was gone. “I hope they catch him. Soon.”

  Brian wished he could hug her. “I do, too.”

  She turned to him. “He killed your brother, right?”

  “We think so.”

  “What was his name? Your brother?”

  “Sam.”

  “You miss him.”

  Touched by her sensitivity, he said, “Always.”

  “Does it ever stop hurting so bad you think you’re going to die, too?”

  This time he didn’t resist the urge to take her hand and hold it between his. “Yes, it does. You think it won’t, but eventually you’ll be surprised when you get through a whole day without the hurt.”

  “Carly said the same thing. That’s good to know. The other people in the car with your brother, they were your friends, too?”

  He nodded. “Other than your Aunt Carly, my very best friends.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s an awful lot to lose all at once.”

  “Yes,” Brian said, surprised by the pain. He couldn’t believe it was still possible to feel it so acutely. “It was a terrible time for everyone.”

  “My mom said you were Auntie Carly’s boyfriend in high school.”

  “That’s right. Four and a half years, in fact.”

  “So why didn’t you two get married before now?”

  What to say? “We went through a bad time after the wreck, and circumstances kind of came between us. I had to leave for college, and Carly wasn’t able to come with me like we’d planned.” He shrugged. “We never saw each other again until recently.”

  “Do you wish you’d gotten married back then?”

  Brian smiled. “You have no idea how much I wish we had. But you can’t undo the past. All any of us has is right now, and you’ve got to do the b
est you can with today.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “I’m very sorry you lost your friend in such an awful way,” he said.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry for you, too.”

  Brian looked up to find Carly staring at their intertwined hands. He released Zoë and made room for Carly on the blanket.

  “Everything okay?” she asked tentatively as she sat next to him and returned his phone to her bag.

  “Zoë and I were just having a very nice chat,” he said with a wink for the girl.

  “That’s right.” Zoë’s face lit up with a smile that was in sharp contrast to the sadness of a few minutes earlier. “I was just making sure he’s worthy of you.”

  Carly laughed. “And?”

  Brian waited breathlessly for Zoë’s reply.

  With an impish sideways glance at him, she said, “He’ll do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Brian was almost asleep when the door between their adjoining rooms opened and Carly tiptoed in. Amused, he whispered, “What are you doing?”

  “I thought you were sleeping.” She slid into bed with him. “Zoë kicked me out.”

  Brian laughed softly as he pulled her tight against him. “Why? Did she find out you snore?”

  Carly poked him. “I do not!”

  He laughed and nibbled on her neck. “I was missing you anyway.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Uh huh. I’ve gotten used to sleeping with you.”

  “I know,” Carly said as she kissed him. “Me, too. She told me to go sleep with my fiancé. She guaranteed me—and I’m quoting here—that her morality won’t go to hell in a handbasket, and she won’t tell her mother we slept together on the trip.”

  Brian’s laughter echoed through both of them. “She’s so funny.”

  “She also said she never gets a hotel bed all to herself. Apparently, she has to share with Lilly when they travel.”

  “I always had to share a bed with Sam. He used to kick the shit out of me—I think on purpose.” He paused before he added, “Jeez, I haven’t thought about that in years.”

  Carly caressed his face. “It’s amazing how it can still hurt so badly, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Like I told Zoë today, it doesn’t hurt every day anymore. But when it does . . .”

  “It takes you by surprise.”

  “Yes.” He worked a hand under the T-shirt she had worn to sleep in and rubbed her back. “I had the best time with her today. With both of you.”

  “I used to imagine spending a day with the two of you. I’ve wondered how it would feel to see you with her, but when I came upon the two of you holding hands . . . It was overwhelming.”

  “I felt an immediate bond with her.”

  “I think it’s safe to say the feeling is mutual. She said, and again I’m quoting, that you’re a ‘hottie.’”

  He snorted with laughter. “She has great taste in men, just like her Auntie Carly.”

  “Mmm,” Carly said, getting into the back rub. “Lower.”

  He tugged at her shirt, eased it over her head, and tossed it on the floor. “That’s better.”

  He felt her relax under his hands as he worked out the kinks that had gathered in her neck and shoulders over the last few stressful days.

  “Go to sleep,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

  “Brian?”

  “What, honey?”

  “Will you make love with me?”

  “Anytime you want.”

  “How about now?”

  “With Zoë right next door?”

  Carly turned over and reached for him. “I can be quiet. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  Brian smiled, and the feel of her breasts against his chest made him tremble with desire, just as it had when he was eighteen. “That’s very funny.”

  She clutched his shoulders. “We haven’t made love in days. Do I need to be worried?”

  “Of course not.” He smoothed the curls off her face. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve just had so much on my mind. This thing with Zoë and everything with the case.”

  “I know. And even though you’ve been so great about it, I’m still afraid it’s put up a wall between us. There’s a crazy man after me, but I wasn’t truly afraid until the other night when I had a couple of hours to wonder what I’d do if you never came home again. After you found out.”

  He touched his lips to hers. “Where else would I have gone? You’re home for me, Carly. It took me half my life to realize that, so you won’t be getting rid of me any time soon.”

  Combing her fingers through his hair, she devoured him with a kiss that left him weak with need. “Love me, Brian.”

  “I do. You know I do.”

  “Show me.”

  “Turn over,” he whispered.

  “Why?” she asked nervously.

  He nudged her onto her belly. “Just do it.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “What are you going to do?”

  He brushed his lips over her ear and dragged a finger slowly down her backbone. “Trust me?”

  She trembled. “Of course I do.”

  “Then let me show you something new.”

  “There’s more?”

  His laughter was soft and easy, just like the movement of his hands on her back. He massaged her shoulders until he felt her tension drain away.

  “Feels good,” she whispered.

  “Yes, you do,” he said as he worked his way to her lower back. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her bikini panties, he pulled them down slowly. When he reached her feet, he tossed the panties and his boxers to the floor. He started the massage again with her feet and then moved to her calves.

  “Brian.”

  “Yeah?”

  “When do we get to the sex part?”

  He laughed. “In a minute. I promise.”

  Inhaling a deep, frustrated breath, she rested her face on the pillow but watched him out of the corner of one eye.

  His fingers coasted over her inner thighs, causing her to tense. “Relax, honey.”

  “I’m trying, but you’re making me nuts.”

  “Good,” he whispered against her ear, sending a shiver through her. “That’s the point.” Only his weight partially on top of her kept her from launching off the bed when he buried his fingers in her wet heat.

  She groaned and pushed back against his hand.

  He kept it up until her thighs began to tremble and she clutched him from within. Moving swiftly, he withdrew his fingers, raised her to her knees, and entered her from behind just as she climaxed with a restrained cry. He gripped her hips and pumped hard all the while biting his lip to keep from coming too soon.

  When he felt her spasms begin to subside, he reached around to coax her up again.

  “Oh,” she gasped as he continued the relentless pace. “Brian.”

  His lips were pressed to her back, his fingers sliding over her most sensitive place, and his concentration was so intense he didn’t dare try to speak for fear of losing control. Instead, he pushed harder and deeper and was soon rewarded by another soft cry of completion. Cupping her breasts, he went deep one last time and lost himself in her. “Carly.”

  As he landed half on her, half off, he was panting, sweaty, and so depleted he could only rest his head on her back and gulp for air. “Everything okay down there?” he finally asked.

  “Mmm,” she purred.

  “Was that a good mmm?”

  “Mmm.”

  He smiled. “So we agree new things are good?”

  This time she added a nod to go with her “Mmm hmm.”

  He reached up to lace his fingers through hers.

  “Bri?”

  Taking a page from her book, he said, “Hmm?”

  “Can we do that again sometime when I don’t have to be quiet?”

  With his cheek pressed to her back, he laughed. “Definitely.”

  Michael got home afte
r midnight and moved quietly through the house so he wouldn’t disturb Mary Ann. She hadn’t slept much since they found out about Zoë. He hadn’t slept so well himself, but it wasn’t just because of Zoë. The pressure to solve this case sat on his shoulders like a thousand-pound weight he carried with him twenty-four hours a day.

  They had spent three hours grilling Luke McInnis and had searched every inch of his house without finding a thing that tied him to any of the crimes. Either Luke was one cool customer, or he was innocent. They’d had no choice but to release him when they had failed to crack him. Michael hated that he was so desperate to solve this case that he had actually begun to hope it was Luke—a kid his sons had grown up with.

  He opened a beer and sat in the dark living room. So many thoughts spiraled through his mind. No wonder he couldn’t sleep. Not only was he obsessed with the case, but he was also worried about Brian and Carly, concerned about Mary Ann, curious about his granddaughter, and missing Sam more than he had in a long time. And that Zoë had been born on Sam’s birthday. Incredible.

  A sniffling sound came from the end of the hallway. His poor Mary Ann. She was heartbroken—again—and that bothered him more than anything else. With one big swallow he downed the rest of the beer and got up. He left the empty bottle in the kitchen and picked up the 9 millimeter handgun he kept close to him at all times these days. Tugging off his tie, he unbuttoned his white uniform shirt on his way down the hall.

  “Hey, babe,” he said from the doorway. He left the light on in the hallway so he could see her.

  She pushed the hair from her face and sat up against the headboard. “You’re so late.”

  He put the gun in the bedside table drawer, sat on the edge of the bed, and kicked off his shoes. “I left you a message earlier that it was going to be a long night. Did you get it?”

  “When I got home from dinner with Carol.”

  “How’d that go?”

  Mary Ann shrugged. “She feels terrible, of course. She said she begged Carly to tell Brian she was pregnant, but when Carly chose not to, she and Steve had to respect her decision. We should be two mothers focused on throwing together a wedding that’s fifteen years overdue. Instead, we spent the whole night talking about the granddaughter we share—a granddaughter she’s gotten to love and care for, and I never knew I had. It’s hard not to resent Carol for that. I keep telling myself it wasn’t her fault, but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear what a great kid Zoë is.”