Murder, Madness & Love (Detective Quaid Mysteries #1) Page 9

  “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you believe she plans to give her husband’s millions to charity. I read the articles, too. Good smokescreen. By the way, where did she get the money for this mansion? Don’t tell me, her art already sells for millions.”

  “Have you done any type of background check? I’ll bet the guy down the street knows more about her than you do.” John took a deep breath. “I can’t believe you have me in a position where I have to defend a good friend against gossip. I thought you had more sense than to believe such garbage. Funny thing is, just like you, she inherited several million from her grandfather. He made a fortune in the real estate business back east, and, when he died, he left all his money to his only grandchild. When Sarah turned twenty-five, she was already a millionaire, and without the help of Michael Palmer. However, I’m sure his investment guidance made her millions more. She doesn’t need his money to live the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Any more questions—detective?”

  “All right, you win,” Steven acquiesced. Defeated at every turn, the black widow had covered all her bases. “I’m going to the office. Maybe my team made some progress on the information you provided last night. I suppose you’re already giving Sarah the protection she needs, anyway.”

  “I wondered when you were going to get around to security. That is the reason you drove all the way out here, isn’t it?” John’s voice no longer hid his impatience, and he worried their friendship was on the verge of collapse. “Sarah has the best man at her side, and two other men are close by twenty-four-seven, but their job is to stay in the background. She has better protection now than if your entire force guarded her, especially if they’re all as charming as you.”

  Steven let John have the last word, but he left questioning reason. On his way to the door, he saw Sarah on the stairs, and watched her descend. She had changed into a strapless black dress with a sweetheart neckline, flared skirt, and fitted bodice. A black leather belt cinched her thin waist. Black heels made her long legs appear even longer, and, once again, she sparkled from the jewels adorning her. She had bright red rubies in the combs holding her hair away from her face, and he had no doubt they were genuine. Especially the large blood red ruby hanging from her neck, in the shape of a teardrop—at least 4 carats, Steven surmised. The gem rested just above the soft, round curves of her bosom. Enchanting, but a peculiarity suddenly dawned on him, she wore the colors red and black—the black widow spider. She had the nerve to taunt him, and yet, the closer she got, the more captivated he became. Caught in her magic, he would willingly to go to his death for just one embrace—one kiss. His resistance gone, he met her at the bottom of the steps, barely aware he had moved across the room.

  He closed his eyes. When he opened them, the spell was broken. The words that left his mouth contradicted his former intent.

  “Eventually, you’ll have to talk to me.”

  “Talk? Or confess, Mr. Quaid?”

  Her eyes flashed with anger, and his will disintegrated.

  Sarah stood on the last step, almost eye level with him, as she slipped on a tailored black leather jacket, her every move sensual, deliberate. They were inches apart. The scent of roses filled his nostrils, not overpowering, but subtle and alluring. A bouquet of great potency that left him senseless. Her knowing gaze penetrated effortlessly to his soul, and luscious lips—full and pink—demanded his attention. One more second and he might have stolen a kiss.

  She stepped to his right.

  “You know Mr. Quaid; I don’t envy you your job. How disappointing the world must look to you.”

  Eddie joined them, patting Steven on the back. “See you later, detective.”

  Since the jacket was part of her outfit and not warm enough for the cold Alaskan weather, Eddie helped Sarah put a warm cape across her shoulders, and Steven stood frozen in place as he watched them walk out the front door. His heart pumped hot and frantic with desire, but his head reeled with confusion.

  Sarah and Eddie were on their way to the office. Work had to be better than listening to Steven Quaid. However, for a reason Sarah could not fathom, what he thought mattered. She tried to tell herself he wasn’t worth the effort, but something deep inside conveyed otherwise.

  She recalled how he’d looked at her as she walked down the stairs. His glare had stripped her naked emotionally, his attitude was callous, and his words were wounding. Yet when she looked into his ice blue eyes, she saw warmth, safety, and even compassion. Sarah felt his turmoil, and while she wanted to understand the contradictions, she feared him, too.

  Eddie shared with her everything he knew regarding Detective Steven Quaid. Though she felt she understood him a little better, a bitter divorce was no excuse for his unforgiving attitude. Still, she could not imagine the horrors he witnessed daily. Sarah mustered up a little compassion for the good detective; much more than he had given her, she was sure.

  After a few hours of work, Eddie drove her to the Alyeska Ski Resort for the luncheon. Sarah had selected the resort for its large, rustic space, delicious food, warm fires, excellent views, and winter sports. She greeted the board members at the Double Musky Inn on their way in to the luncheon. Some had enjoyed the powder on the slopes, and others had taken the ride to the top just for the view, but they all commented positively on their experience. Sarah was relieved that her choice for their fun winter weekend was such a success.

  She made the necessary appearance, but her mind was elsewhere. Pretending required a strength she never knew she had, and, because of Detective Quaid, she looked at those around her with distrust.

  After enjoying lunch with her guests, and, when etiquette allowed, she began to make excuses for having to leave early. When a band called Nostalgia started playing songs from the fifties and sixties, and everyone was dancing and appeared to be having a wonderful time, Sarah decided to leave. In the middle of saying goodbye, a tall, distinguished-looking man stopped at her side.

  “May I have this dance?”

  She turned to acknowledge the speaker. The voice sounded familiar.

  “Hello Sarah.” The man extended his hand, and Sarah immediately recognized a former love, Scott Chase.

  “Hello, Scott.”

  Scott, the man she had once loved, and deserted eight years earlier, stood next to her, waiting for her answer. Tall and lean, with a head full of thick auburn hair and a full beard, Scott was handsome and aware of it. The two had found an immediate attraction, despite a twelve-year age difference. Scott Chase was Sarah’s first love, her first lover, and the reason she left Alaska. A man with a reputation, and, although divorced, he was a man with a solid commitment—a family. Scott wanted more than she was ready to give, and, while she left still deeply in love with him, Sarah understood the futility of such a sacrifice. The sound of his voice made her heart skip a few beats. Before she could answer, the guests at her table were urging her to go ahead.

  “Sure, why not?” she whispered. She turned to smile at her guests and was surprised at the pleasure they seemed to find at the prospect of seeing her dance with another man.

  Scott took her by the hand and led her to the dance floor.

  Scott had been observing her since her arrival and could tell from her body language she wanted to leave, which had been his signal to act. He took her in his arms and held her close as the band played a slow number. The feel of his body guiding hers felt familiar and comfortable. He felt her relax, and maneuvered her even closer, satisfied when she did not resist. They danced in silence for several minutes.

  “You haven’t said a word, Sarah,” Scott finally noted, breaking the quiet spell. “Are you really that shocked to run into me after all these years? Anchorage is my home, too.”

  “Shocked? No. I knew we’d run into each other, eventually. Although I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t think you cared for winter sports.”

  Surprised by the formal tone of her voice, he almost stopped dancing.

  “After all these years, you have nothing to say?
No questions. No comments. You surprise me. I expected a different reunion.”

  “I never thought about it, to be honest.”

  He ignored her comment. With his right hand on the small of her back, he guided her across the dance floor, his left hand holding her right hand at shoulder-height.

  “You haven’t changed at bit. You still dance like Fred Astaire.” She smiled.

  Scott narrowed his dark eyes, clearly offended that it had taken prodding to get her to talk.

  Her smile faded, but Sarah continued. “I understand you’re no longer a fisherman, but the CEO of an entire fleet.”

  “Yes. Well, Dad built the fleet. I just get to manage and reap the rewards. I see you’ve kept track of my success.”

  “It’s hard to avoid. You seem to be in the papers every other day. I think your latest flame is the D.A., Nora Flutters.”

  “It’s exactly how I knew you were back—an article in the paper a month or so ago, and then the announcement about this big weekend. You seem to be in the paper on the days I’m not. And Nora is just a friend.”

  “And exactly how many friends have you had since we last saw one another?”

  Scott’s bachelorhood was featured frequently in the daily news. She would have read about it.

  “You tell me, since it seems you’ve been keeping track.”

  Scott held Sarah close and realized his emotions were all over the place. Angry since reading The Times interview, he wanted her to know. Having followed her life in detail since the day she left him, he knew her every move. Now, with her in his arms again, his wrath began to transform, taking the edge off his true aim—payback. But when he recalled her aloofness, he rediscovered his purpose.

  He tried to tell himself her silence meant arrogance. Scott recalled how she’d left him, married another man, and returned to his state, his city, without one word. She loved him once, at least she had claimed to, but she left with barely a goodbye kiss, and the more he thought of that day, the more he wanted to even the score, and today he meant to do so.

  “The next song is for us. Remember our first dance together?”

  He held her tightly, though she tried to pull away. He tilted her chin and covered her mouth with his. Sarah tensed, but just as quickly relaxed. She surrendered completely. The kiss was soft, warm, and also demanding. His grudge forgotten for just a moment, Scott put his hand on the base of her neck and held her closer than was appropriate.

  She seemed to come to her senses, though, and pulled away from him. “How dare you! We’re not teenagers.”

  Scott’s anger returned. What bothered him the most was when she wiped her mouth, as though his kiss revolted her.

  She continued to scold him. “The entire board is watching.”

  He merely grinned.

  “If I weren’t a lady, Scott, I would slap that look off your face.”

  “Don’t pretend with me, Sarah. You responded to that kiss—to me—but go ahead. If avoiding the truth makes you feel like less of a whore, you’re the one making a scene. I didn’t tarnish your reputation. From what I understand, a lady doesn’t kill her own husband. ‘Black widow’—isn’t that the right term?”

  His viciousness surprised even him, but her reaction—priceless. She slapped his grinning face, and the sound was like a thunderclap in the silence of a finished song. The dancers beside them stared. Extremely pleased, Scott watched her leave the room with as much dignity as she could muster, but he was curious about the young man who came running to her aid. The man glared at him, but Sarah seemed to insist he drop the matter. Scott had seen the man at the bar but had no idea he was with Sarah, and he wondered why he sat across the room while she tended to business. Then it dawned on him. She had a driver. The new chairman of the board had a bit of security befitting her new vocation. Nothing he couldn’t handle, if needed.

  Despite the slap, the grin never left his face. He wanted to see the chairman of the board act the fool in front of her distinguished friends. He wanted to put her in her place. The next step was to follow her home, apologize, and then beg for her forgiveness. From her initial response, he knew she still loved him, and now getting her to realize it had become his new goal.

  When he got to the parking lot, a pickup truck with a flat tire had him blocked in. Two men were arguing about changing the tire. Instead of leaving, Scott went to plan B. He went back to the dance, where he asked a tall brunette to join him.

  He had noticed Karen earlier, and felt confident he could find out all he needed to know about Sarah from her.

  Karen witnessed the scene on the dance floor and—more than a little curious—she accepted his invitation.

  “You must be someone special,” she said to Scott when he had her in his arms. “I’ve known Sarah for a few years, and I’ve never seen her lose her cool the way she did with you.”

  Scott stopped dancing for a moment and said thoughtfully, “You know, come to think of it, I’ve never seen her so upset either, I guess picking up where we left off eight years ago may have been a little too much to expect.”

  “So you and Sarah have a history? Amazing. The girl never fails to surprise me. So what happened? I mean, until that slap, you two obviously belonged together. Everyone commented on what a smashing couple you made, and now they’re just wondering what you said to her.”

  Scott grinned. “You don’t speak your mind at all, do you?”

  “Always, but especially when I have a stake in the answers.”

  Her honesty impressed him, and he pulled her close. Karen spent the evening in Scott’s arms. He learned everything he needed to, and Scott had an invitation to the formal ball the next evening.

  Sarah and Eddie arrived at the house to find Steven sitting in his truck. Sarah ignored him and went into the house without as much as a nod. He intended to apologize for his earlier comments, but she swept right past him before he could say a word.

  “Was that a tornado, or did you just bring Sarah home? Is she still mad at me?”

  “No. Not you. Some guy upset her at the luncheon.”

  “A board member?”

  “No, a stranger. I don’t know his identity, yet. She refused talk about him, but I notified Tom and Ethan.”

  “Tom and Ethan?” Steven didn’t recognize the names.

  “I thought you discussed security with John this morning. Tom and Ethan Dun: they’re brothers, and they’re the bodyguards keeping watch from a distance. John calls them the twin nighthawks. Normally, they begin their watch at midnight, but John wants around the clock protection. You know the deal. Their job is to assess the people around her for possible stalkers. When she started dancing with that guy, I let Tom and Ethan know, and they went to work. Apparently, right after we left, this guy did, too, but they blocked him in, and he went back inside. John should be calling soon with his identity. He must have insulted her, because she slapped him. She called him someone from her past.”

  “Did you notice him before he approached Sarah?”

  “When we first arrived, I checked out everyone in the bar and restaurant. He sat at a corner table with a couple of other men, looked like a business meeting, but they left, and he came to the bar. He didn’t hide his interest; he stared openly.”

  “Her reaction?”

  “Silence. But she’s definitely angry, and embarrassed. Sarah’s not one to lose her cool. He really upset her.”

  “Interesting.”

  The news lifted Steven’s spirits. Maybe they had the man they were looking for. A short while later, John called to tell them the man’s identity: Scott Chase. Steven recognized the name and knew Chase by reputation. He wondered how Mr. Scott Chase, one of the most influential men in Anchorage, fit into the picture. He called his office to get an investigation started, and, even though John suggested he wait before questioning Sarah, Steven wanted answers now, so he went looking for her.

  He located her in her exercise studio, working strenuously, like a woman trying to exorcise a demon. Steve
n stood back to admire the view. Though she was soaked with perspiration, it took nothing away from her loveliness.

  The music was so loud he didn’t even try to get her attention. He simply watched and waited. Steven would let John ask her about the mystery man. He would change his tactics and play her game. Being a detective sometimes called for acting to get the needed result. Tonight, Steven felt up to the challenge.

  Sarah finished her session, grabbed a towel, and moved to the dressing room without looking in his direction. He heard the shower and turned to leave when she returned in a terrycloth robe.

  “If you would like to join me, Mr. Quaid, there are trunks in the dressing room. Please use the shower first.” She dropped her towel and stepped into the Jacuzzi.

  Having expected her to be au naturale, Steven blushed. However, when the robe dropped she wore an attractive two-piece bathing suit.

  “It’s tempting, but no, thank you.” He knelt down to talk with her at her level.

  “It’s great for releasing tension—exercise. Maybe you should try it. You have an even shorter fuse than I do.”

  “I agree, but the reason I’m intruding on your workout is to apologize. I’m afraid I’ve been acting like a real ass.”

  “I understand. Murder is a serious business. I’m sorry, by the way, about your divorce.”

  He heard the sincere compassion in her voice, but Steven was surprised she’d discovered the secret of his past.

  “Thank you. Divorce is hard when it’s unexpected. You plan your life—you know, wife, children—then, suddenly, it’s gone. Denise didn’t want kids. I never knew it, though, until after we married. Just goes to show how well we communicated. I see my bitterness precedes me. Sorry. What else did Eddie tell you?”

  “He said you’ve been a detective for about ten years. You’re nicknamed Hawk because of your skills, and you have two younger sisters in Juneau, your hometown. Oh, and you have seven nieces and nephews. He also mentioned that you’re a Seattle Seahawks fan, and your tendency to wear sweatshirts celebrating your favorite team when working a new case. Are you really superstitious?”