Authors: Boo Walker
With that, he shut the door.
When I’d gotten back to the hotel earlier, it hadn’t taken me much time on the computer to find the woodshop Mrs. Taylor had mentioned, and not much longer to find the church. Riverside Church of the Woods. Not Hillside, like she had said. But it had to be the same place. Guess who the preacher was…the woman, Wendy Harrill, who I’d been seeing all over the tube preaching against the Singularity. How had I missed that? But I was certainly onto something.
Deciding I’d visit both places in the morning, I had crawled into bed and waited, passing the time watching the latest developments on the local news. They had barely mentioned Jess. All anyone was talking about was Dr. Kramer’s murder. Prostitutes didn’t rank as high as doctors on the sympathy scale. No details had been released regarding how, but the sheriff’s office had confirmed that Kramer had been murdered. They had absolutely no suspects, which wasn’t surprising at all. Of course, we all knew that whoever had been responsible for the chaos at the Summit was behind this as well.
Finally, Francesca arrived.
I looked through the peephole first. She was still dressed like she sold herself for a living.
And she was holding up her middle finger. I twisted the knob and let her in. A big smile on her face. Of course, she hadn’t been the one fooled into thinking their partner was dead. She had no idea what I’d just been through, and truthfully, I was embarrassed to tell her. Probably because I had some feelings for her that I wasn’t comfortable with expressing. I resisted the urge to put my arms around her.
“Come in,” I said. “Glad you’re okay.” Very matter-of-fact.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you sleeping?”
“Not yet.”
“You look like hell.”
“It’s been a long day. I think I got something. One of the men from the arrest sheets. You know the description Jess gave us? White beard, glasses. He was arrested yesterday.”
“Nice work, Harper. I’m impressed.”
“I went by his home. That is, his last-known. His wife said she hadn’t seen him in months. Guy’s name is Jameson Taylor. She put me onto a couple places where we can find him. We’ll throw it on the agenda for tomorrow.” I told her more details.
“You sound completely done.”
“I’m okay. Did you have any luck?”
As she started speaking, I felt so thankful to hear her voice again. I could have listened to that Italian accent for hours. “Not a whole lot.” She opened up the minibar. “I’m going to order some room service. You want some?”
“Sure. A veggie burger and fries, please.”
“How did you make it through boot camp eating vegetables?”
“Not easily.”
Shaking her head, she dialed room service. After ordering, she sat down at the table. “I heard they almost got you,” I said.
“How’d you hear?”
“They picked me up. I just got out of a holding cell. Walked here. Your Range Rover is locked up somewhere. Detective Jacobs was all over me. He told me you were dead.”
“What?”
I nodded. “Said they found you downtown with your throat slit.”
She was silent for a while. Then, “That’s not playing fair.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“He wanted to know what we knew?” she guessed.
“Exactly.”
“What a jerk,” she said.
I sat on the bed. “Did you find anything on your trek through the underworld?”
“Not really. I met a couple girls who knew Erica and Lucy, but they didn’t have much to say. Seems their death is the hot gossip on the street. Everybody is wondering what happened and nobody knows. Mouths are staying shut.”
“Well, we’ve got a couple leads. A place to start.”
“That’s right.” Francesca got up from the table and approached me. “You thought I was dead?”
“That’s what he told me.”
“How’d that make you feel?”
“How do you think?”
“Poor Harper.” She sat next to me on the bed and opened her arms. “Do you need a hug? You’re so cute.”
“Cute?” I mumbled. “Give me a break.”
She pushed me back against the bed. “I’m right here,
piccolino
. Alive and well. I’m flattered that you were worried about me.”
“I never said I was.”
“You did with your eyes. Don’t get all tough on me now. Cute, innocent boy one minute; fearless Visigoth the second. I can play your games, too.”
“Look what I’ve started.”
“I guess that means you get one more chance with me. Do you want that?”
“It might help some.” How could I say no?
“That’s not very convincing.” She reached between my legs and took hold of me, and I grew in her hand. “I think he’d like some.”
“We both wouldn’t mind a little.”
“Then take me.”
I think that meant
green light
. I flipped her onto her back—hard and fast—and pressed against her body, moving up and down, and our tongues touched and danced around one another. She pulled at the collar of my shirt until the first button popped. Then she pulled the shirt over my head. I reached down, touching the soft bare skin above her waist, and then stripped off her clothes. The sight of her see-through black underwear ripped right through me.
There she was again, this Italian goddess, lying on her back, looking at me with big amber eyes, writhing like some gorgeous animal, asking something from me.
Then she was on top. She undid my jeans and reached inside. A woman hadn’t touched me like that in a long time, and at first I shivered, right up through my spine. She rolled over on top of me and pulled my jeans and boxers off at the same time. Then she touched me more, and kissed me, starting at my shins and going all the way up.
When she reached my neck, I was on top of the world, barely able to control myself. Straddling me, she sat straight up and removed her bra. She brought her breasts up over my face and I kissed them, tasting her body. She wriggled out of her panties and got back on top of me. I slipped inside of her and she worked me like some sort of sorceress. She moaned loudly and pushed my limits, working her thighs in some kind of organic rhythm.
I didn’t last as long as I wanted to, but who could have? She didn’t make me feel self-conscious about it either. She took my hand and led me between her legs, and I worked my fingers in circles until she climaxed as well.
We laid there in silence, and she stroked my chest and whispered sweet Italian nothings into the air.
“What would you say if I told you I wanted to go about finding these people on my own?” I asked.
“I’d say you’re confusing me with your girlfriend.”
“I just—”
She put her finger to my lips. “What? You just don’t want me to get hurt. I don’t want to hear it. I am not your girlfriend. I am a soldier.”
“I’ve never made love to a soldier before,” I said.
“Was it everything you hoped?”
“Not bad for a first go at it.”
“Not bad…right.”
“It will get better.”
“You don’t get it, do you? We will get to the bottom of who killed Ted, and I’m not leaving until we do, but
that
will not happen again.”
“That’s what you said earlier. That promise lasted what…eight hours?”
“I needed to finish what I started. I’d say we got it out of our system. Now we can go back to work without any sexual tension burning up around us.”
“Suit yourself, but I could go one more round in the morning. Just for the hell of it.”
“Well, I know you couldn’t go another right now.” She took hold of the limp me. “This guy’s not going to get up until a good night’s sleep. Mr. One Hit Wonder.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s probably true. But he could surprise you in the morning. You might see some things you’ve never seen before. Sleep here tonight. That will give you time to think about it.”
“I could do that. A warm body would be nice.”
“A warm body…yep. That would be nice.”
Then a knock. Veggie burger…better than a post-sex smoke.
“It’s time to get up.”
“Then get your butt back in here. I’ll get you up, soldier.”
She pulled me to her and turned my world upside down. Her hands knew just what to do, where to go. I’d felt more alive that morning, and over the past two days, than I had in a long time. She had a touch that reached deep down inside my soul.
Afterwards, I held her close and kissed her on the forehead. It felt nice. “I like you,” I said.
And there it was!
I, Harper Knox, had just opened up to a woman—hell, to anyone—for the first time I could remember.
“Stop,” she said. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what? Tell you the truth?”
“Just stop.” She was quiet for a minute. She pulled away and propped her head up on her elbow. “I need to tell you something.”
“Oh, wow. The mysterious woman wants to reveal herself?”
“I just want you to know for some reason.”
“Fire away. I’m ready.”
“I’m engaged.”
And with that, she fired one right to the bow of the
USS Harper Knox
that shook me to the bone.
Captain, we’re hit! And we’re taking on water!
“No kidding?” I said, acting like she’d done nothing but mention what the breakfast special was downstairs.
They have a curry tofu scramble...I’m engaged...
“Yeah,” she continued, “it’s complicated, but I’m supposed to be getting married.”
“When?”
“Next June.”
I laughed out loud, though I didn’t think it was funny at all.
“Like I said, it’s complicated.”
“Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”
“But I don’t want you to think that I’m a cheater. I’m not a bad person.”
I grinned a little and shook my head, ashamed at my stupidity, realizing that I’d been seduced.
“Where’s your ring?”
“In my room.”
“When’s the last time you wore it?”
“On the plane on the way here.”
“Interesting.”
“Not really.”
“I feel kind of used.”
She kissed me. “I didn’t use you. I was not planning on telling you about my engagement, believe me, but I didn’t use you. It happened and I let it. And I enjoyed it.”
“So tell me more. Might as well get it all out. Purge the demon.”
“I told you not to take us seriously.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just going with the flow. So what’s the story?”
She sat up against the headboard, making no effort to cover herself. “He’s a Count in Palermo, Sicily. Well, his father is. He’s in line to be. I think I told you…my father was a Navy pilot. He was stationed in Palermo at one point working with the Italian Air Force, and he became really good friends with this guy, the Count. His name’s Nicolo Paraducci. Counts don’t mean as much as they used to, but there’s still a great heritage and respect bestowed upon them. He has a
palazzo
in Palermo that has been passed down through his family for hundreds of years. And his son, my fiancé, Salvador Paraducci, is in line to become the Count eventually. Through our father’s relationship, we got to know each other and became very close. I was still in Rome, but we spent a lot of time together, going back and forth.”
“This isn’t exactly what I was expecting, but keep it coming. I feel like someone’s reading me a Danielle Steele novel.”
“Whatever. Then we went to University together in Rome and started dating officially. It was a big deal to his family and mine. His, because of the royalty and politics and everything. They, of course, loved me.”
“Of course.”
“It was a big deal to my family, too. My father was honored. He and Salvi’s father—”
“
Salvi
? You’re shitting me.”
“Yes, Salvi. He and Salvi’s father are best of friends and it meant so much to him. But my mother; oh, God. My mother grew up poor in Rome, and the idea of her daughter becoming a countess was a godsend for her. She’s proud beyond belief. And if you know any Italian women, especially mothers, then you know what I mean when I say
proud
. This is not something to take lightly. So in a way, I was betrothed long before Salvi gave me a ring. This marriage was written in the books years ago. But I slowed things down when I joined the Marina Militare, and Salvi and I didn’t see each other for a few years. It broke my mother’s heart. She wouldn’t even speak to me.”
Francesca shook her head and looked off over my shoulder. “
O mio Dio
. My. Italian. Mother. I left the Marina Militare to get into doing contract work, and that’s when Salvi and I ran into each other. Somehow I let myself start seeing him again, even though I knew I still hadn’t gotten freedom out of my system. His family welcomed me back, and my mother and father were once again happy. The wheels began to turn, and it was hard stopping them. That’s when he put a ring on my finger, and I didn’t say no.
Couldn’t
is more like it. This was six months ago. I moved back to Rome to live near my mother, and preparations were made. As you can imagine, a wedding in Italy is a monumental event, and when it is into a royal family, it’s even bigger.”
“But I don’t love him,” she continued. “Of course I love him as a friend. But I don’t want to marry him. Sometimes I do, but I think it’s all to make everyone happy. Everyone but me. I want to call it off but I can’t. My mother would die. When I say that, I mean it. It would kill her. If I called it off, it would be in the papers. My mother would be ashamed of me. It would break my dad’s heart too.”
“So you’re going to marry a man you don’t want to marry?”
“That’s the plan.”
I sat up. “Not that I’m an expert on the subject, but marriage is between you and one man. It has nothing to do with what your parents think…or the media. We don’t live in the Middle Ages anymore. Marriages aren’t planned by mom and dad.” I felt like I was pleading a bit and decided to back off some.
“Sure, it’s that way here. You marry who you love. But it’s still done differently back in Italy. Sometimes I think making my mother happy is more important than making me happy.”