Authors: Ronica Black
With a pang of guilt, she glanced down at the flowers on her coffee table. The roses were now accompanied by a yellow bouquet that had arrived earlier that morning. They harbored another simple message from Liz.
Your kiss still lingers on my lips.
The card made Erin unconsciously touch her lips, the kiss from the previous night replaying in her mind. Never before had she experienced such power in a single kiss. Its ability to make her feel so many different things on so many different levels astonished her. The kiss had been tender, warm, sweet. Yet it was teasing and tantalizing, causing desire and heat to flood through her body. She had wanted more, wanted to probe with her tongue, to suck the sweetness from Liz’s lips. Her mind roamed to the phone call that had followed the flower delivery.
In her deep, seductive voice, Liz had beckoned her back to the club on Friday night. She wanted to see Erin sooner, but Erin knew she needed to keep her distance while her colleagues attempted to corner Reece. Ruiz had made it clear to her that she was to stay away from Liz until then. So she’d agreed to meet her at La Femme on Friday night, and Liz reluctantly agreed to wait that long. She informed Erin that it was leather night and she couldn’t wait to see her appropriately dressed.
The conversation had left Erin sporting another deep blush. She’d hung up much more excited than an undercover detective should be anticipating her next “date” with a suspect.
For the remainder of the day, she’d tried to keep her mind off Elizabeth Adams, lounging around and trying catch up on some much-needed rest. She glanced down at Patricia’s book, ready to once again immerse herself in its plot. But before she could read a complete sentence, the phone rang.
“Mac?” It was Patricia, and she sounded worked up. “Don’t worry, the boys said your line was still clear.”
“Okay. What’s up?”
“Has Kristen Reece contacted you?”
The question surprised her. “You mean outside the club?” She sat up a little, the conversation demanding some attention.
“Yes.”
“No, why?”
“She’s missing. We arrived at her place with a warrant for her arrest before noon, and her place is trashed and she’s nowhere to be found.”
“What about surveillance? Wasn’t someone watching her?” Erin couldn’t believe that one of their prime suspects had just disappeared.
“Off and on. It was costing a fortune to keep both her and Adams under constant surveillance, and since they were both at the club most of the time, the team just started solely watching La Femme. Last night Reece left the club just before Adams, and our boys chose to follow Adams instead of her.”
“Maybe she’ll be back. She’s wild. Maybe she went off for fun or—”
“Mac,” Patricia interrupted. “There’s blood all over her apartment.”
Erin sat in silence for a moment as the words played out in her mind. Visions of Reece flashed before her, smiling, teasing, dancing. And now she was missing, her apartment a mess, covered in blood. “Jesus,” she whispered, trying to get a handle on all that was happening and what it could possibly mean.
“Listen, J.R.’s on his way over,” Patricia said. “Ruiz wants you to go to Adams, see how she’s behaving. You up for it?”
Erin cleared her throat to answer. “Yeah, sure.”
“Okay then, I’ll let him know. And Mac?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.”
*
Erin pulled up at La Femme and cut the Honda’s engine. She sat still for a moment, her heart and mind racing. She had called Liz earlier, claiming she couldn’t wait until Friday to see her. The nightclub owner had readily agreed, sounding more than delighted and extremely seductive.
A chill swept over her as she exited the Honda. With a deep breath, she began walking, rubbing her arms to warm herself even though the heat outside was stifling. Liz had suggested they meet at the club and Erin was nervous, knowing the place would be virtually empty, leaving her once again all alone with Elizabeth Adams.
She walked up to the entrance and found the door locked. Knocking, she lowered her arms and glanced over her attire. She had chosen quickly, pulling on khaki chinos and tight-fitting maroon blouse. She smoothed down her blouse nervously as the door opened.
Liz stood, smiling at her with appreciation. She was wearing a tight black Under Armour workout shirt with black track pants. “Hi,” she said, deep and throaty. Her eyes were alive and welcoming. “Please, come in.”
Erin did so slowly, her cheeks already flushing from the other woman’s intense but approving scrutiny.
“I was surprised by your call.” Liz walked ahead of her, leading them further into the dim and vacant nightclub.
“I know, I’m sorry about that.” Erin considered her options, knowing it was vital not to mention Kristen, but also knowing she needed to try and get Liz talking. “It’s just that…” She thought for a moment and then lowered her voice, knowing flattery was the way to go. “I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.”
Liz instantly stopped walking and turned to face her as they reached the stairs to the VIP room. Slowly, with catlike grace, she approached. Erin swallowed with difficulty and hoped Liz didn’t notice her nerves.
A sly grin made its way across Liz’s face and she stopped just inches from Erin. “I’ve been thinking about it too.” Her muscular chest rose and fell with arousal. She cupped Erin’s hip with a strong arm, pulling her closer, so close that Erin could feel the warmth of her breath. “In fact, I can’t seem to get it from my mind.” She leaned in and brushed Erin’s lips with her own.
Heat, intense and powerful, claimed Erin, and her mind swam with desire as she melted into the sweet, soft kiss. Her brain screamed, torn between the seriousness of the investigation and the soul-altering feelings she was experiencing with their number-one suspect. Kristen’s image flooded her as she felt Liz’s probing tongue skim across her lips, beckoning permission to go further. Clenching her legs together, forcing herself to stand despite diminishing strength, she took a step back, gently pushing Liz away.
Liz searched her face with intense eyes. “I’m sorry, was that too forward?” The question was asked softly, gently, taking Erin by complete surprise. The woman was so smooth, so disarming. It was hard to believe she was most likely a killer.
“No, it was…” Erin met her eyes, very much aware of the pounding of her own blood in her brain and between her legs. “Nice,” she finished softly.
Liz smiled and took her hand. “Come on.” She led the way up the stairs.
Erin followed silently, taking in the black outfit, searching for the right words. The heat in her cheeks remained as she realized the kiss they had just shared had been heard by all. Why she cared she didn’t know, but she couldn’t help but feel violated, like her colleagues had just witnessed something very personal.
Doing her best to shake the thought, she stepped inside Liz’s private room and closed the door behind them.
“Please, make yourself at home.” Liz offered her a seat.
Erin complied and made herself comfortable on one of the sofas. She studied Liz and noticed for the first time that she was slightly damp with sweat. Suspicion crawled up her throat and she shifted a little as her mind raced.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt any of your plans.” She watched the nightclub owner carefully, searching for clues into her reaction.
“Not at all. I was just working out.”
“Oh. You work out a lot, then?” Erin asked, her eyes skimming Liz’s sculpted upper body under the tight-fitting shirt.
“Yes, especially when I’m stressed.”
Erin sat up a little, seeing a way in. She tried her best to look concerned. “Are you stressed today?”
Eyeing her from her position behind the opposite couch, Liz smiled. “I was. But now I seem to be all better, thanks to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you’re a great distraction.”
“Distraction from what?”
“My problems.”
Erin laughed softly. “You have problems? I seriously doubt that.”
The smile remained on Liz’s face. “I do.”
“Like what?” She raised an eyebrow and kept her tone light.
Liz moved from behind the couch to sit next to her. “Like…problems with the club.” She took Erin’s hand, lightly stroking it.
“The club is wonderful. It seems to be a big success,” Erin countered, her breath shaky and quick from the sensations inflicted upon her palm.
“There’s a lot that comes with that.” Liz raised their hands, bringing Erin’s up against her lips where she breathed softly and deliberately upon it. “Like employees…”
Erin shuddered, her body responding to Liz’s hot breath, her mind responding to the words. “You have problems with your employees?”
“Yes.” Liz kissed her hand, her lips lightly brushing across her knuckles.
“Your employees seem nice. Especially that bartender.” Erin grinned, knowing the words would strike a nerve, but she had to make Liz think she was teasing her, trying to get a rise.
Liz sat back, her eyes suddenly icy and cold. “Kristen? You like her?”
Erin shrugged. “Sure. She seems nice. Why, is she not so nice?”
Liz rose from the couch hurriedly and made her way to the counter, where she poured herself a drink. “Maybe we should do this another time.” The words were cold and distant.
Erin squirmed, feeling the chill sweep across the room. Needing to regain some ground, she said softly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t like her, actually. I was just teasing.”
Liz took a drink of the amber-colored liquor in her glass and shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Her blue eyes met Erin’s, wounded and troubled. “I’m just dealing with a lot right now.”
“You can talk to me.” Erin probed gently, carefully.
With a sigh, Liz took another big drink and set down her glass. “No. No, I can’t.” She stared at Erin long and hard, the cold in her eyes softening, warming.
“Of course not, you hardly know me,” Erin whispered, looking away as if she were embarrassed. But something else stirred within her and she found herself truly feeling for the nightclub owner.
“It’s not that.” Liz ran a hand through her hair, her eyes once again settling on Erin. “It’s…highly personal. Something I don’t share with anyone.”
The revelation startled Erin and she found herself beyond curious, not just for the investigation, but for her own personal reasons. Drawn by the uneasiness in her eyes, she stood impulsively and approached her. “You are truly troubled, aren’t you?”
Shaking her head slowly, Liz said, “You have no idea.”
Unable to stop herself, Erin reached out her hand and stroked Liz’s face. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
For a moment, Liz seemed to be on the brink of saying something, then her face relaxed and she murmured, “Thank you.”
Erin gave her a smile and backed away, knowing it would cause suspicion if she pushed any harder. “We’ll do this another time, okay?”
“Friday?” Liz asked, looking hopeful once again.
“Friday,” Erin agreed.
She left the room and headed back out into the sun. Her insides churned in turmoil, arousal mixed with suspicion mixed with empathy and concern. Shoving her hands down into her chinos, she let the fierce heat massage her coiled emotions before she climbed back into her car. She glanced down at her chest where the wire sat hidden and all-knowing. Although she hadn’t gathered much, there was one thing she had learned. There was more to Elizabeth Adams than met the eye. So much more.
*
Patricia squatted down next to the beige sofa and rested her latex-gloved hand against its side, her eyes focused on the fold in the cushion on the armrest.
“Has forensics swept the couch yet?” she yelled over her shoulder to no one in particular.
Someone walked over and crouched down next to her, but she was too focused to look to see who it was. She held up her digital camera and snapped a picture just as she had done throughout the apartment.
“No, they’re still busy in the bedroom.” It was Jeff Hernandez, and he was looking at the same fold in the armrest cushion as he spoke. “They did a preliminary sweep of the small bloodstains on the carpet in here, but nothing on the couch.”
Patricia backed off a little, not wanting to contaminate the sofa if it hadn’t been cleared yet. The bedroom had been their focal point since arriving on the scene the day before. They’d found it in complete disarray, with the dresser drawers pulled out and dumped and the room’s remaining contents strewn all about. Accompanying the mess was a large amount of blood, pools of it on the floor as well as splatter patterns on the floor and walls. And whoever had been in the apartment when the bloodshed had occurred had walked from the bedroom to the living room several times, trailing the blood with their shoes. Leaving shoe prints, boot prints to be exact.
Since yesterday, their team had been going over the bedroom with a fine-toothed comb and apparently had yet to examine the sofa. Patricia could understand why. It was beige and showed no obvious signs of tampering. She stood up and retrieved a small baggie and a pair of tweezers from one of their kits, then returned to her squat.