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He grabbed my arms and shook me a little. “You!”
His words knocked the wind out of me. I was so out of it, it barely even registered when he scooped me up and carried me into the basement. I found myself on the sectional while he paced.
The moment the warmth from inside the house hit him, the snow in his hair and on his bare torso melted, turning him into some dripping-wet god of the sea. Water beaded up on his chiseled abs, falling into the waist of his pants, which were slung so low my brain fizzled. My body completely shut down for a second overloaded by his deliciousness.
With a scowl, he growled. “I just found my brother tickling you in my bed!”
I knew his words should mean something to me, but I was completely distracted by the way the water from his hair dripped down his chiseled pecs and fell down his delectable six-pack abs. My eyes fell to the V-shape that led to a particularly impressive package. As much as I wanted to walk up to him and trace the lines of the water with my fingertip, or better yet follow the trail of water with my tongue, I was frozen to the spot in my lusty haze. Couldn’t have moved if the place was on fire.
“Phoebe?” he barked. “Oh, shit. You must be frozen.”
Scooping me up again, he took me upstairs and into the master bathroom. Setting me on the vanity, removed my water-logged slippers. With the shower running, he tugged my sweatshirt off over my head snapping me out of my daze. When he reached for my T-shirt nightgown, I batted his hand away. “What are you doing?”
His brows furrowed. “You plan to go in dressed?”
I shook my head a little. “Ah, no. But I’ve got this. You talk to Dom. Fix this because nothing happened. It’s no different than when we were kids.”
He scoffed. “We sure as fuck aren’t kids anymore. He needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.”
I slid off the vanity and stood in front of him, closer than I’d been in a while. Placing my hand over his rapidly beating heart, I gazed into his eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything when it’s Dom.” The feel of my palm over his heart soothed both of us. I melted into him for a hug. “Go get some coffee, then kiss and make up.”
His voice sounded strangled. “You swear there are no feelings there?”
I was so confused, but he looked so serious. “I swear.”
He pulled me in for a tight hug until I shivered. Then he pushed me toward the shower and slipped out the door.
Under the shower spray, I enjoyed the steamy water pelting me until my teeth stopped chattering. What was all that? Was Ransom really jealous of his brother?
By the time I emerged, I was hot. I toweled off and wrapped the big fluffy towel around me, opening the door to let the steam out. While I couldn’t hear exactly what the guys were saying, the voices in the living room sounded calm. I breathed a sigh of relief.
By now, they were probably discussing business. Dominic worked for Ransom’s company since he graduated college. His main task was traveling around and securing contracts for workers to remove plastic from the ocean and have it shipped back to the States for recycling the plastic into the items their company sold.
Too hot to blow dry my hair, I dressed in leggings, a shaper/camisole combination, and a three-quarter-sleeved tunic. Temperature regulation was definitely not my strong suit.
Piling my hair up on my head in a wet, messy knot, I pulled my laptop out and checked my email. Deleting the junk, I found one from Starry Skies. There were only five words in the email: Careful, your dick is showing.
Closing my eyes, I felt my whole body vibrating with excitement. It was the code for my source. She had something for me.
Typing as fast as I could, I went to our online storage site, requiring two different passcodes to open a firewall of steel. When I got inside, there was a document containing a list of ten links. The first took me to an article about a socialite, Marina O’Reilly. Scrolling down, there were other articles of other women from Kelli McDougal to Trisha Crawford. I wrote all the names down in my notebook, but I didn’t understand. Who were they?
Getting to a browser, I looked up the first woman, Marina O’Reilly. The first headline caught my attention: “Budding star takes her life.” I stared at the picture of a lifeless woman on the pavement. Searching through some older articles, I found a clear picture of her. I set the windows side by side and gasped. Though the streaks of red blood marred her perfect face, it was Marina lying dead on the sidewalk. According to the article, she was just about to take off as a model, her first shoot set for the next day.
When I checked the date of the article reporting her death, my stomach dropped. It was six months ago. I thought the rash of models dying only started two months ago. Had a killer been targeting young models for the last six months?
Frantically, I searched the other names. Kelli, Trisha, and all the others were dead too. All suspected suicides. All within the last two years. My list of victims just grew exponentially, my timeline grew, and it hit me. What if there were more?
I collapsed backward in bed. This was so much bigger than I thought. I had to get back to New York. After firing off a few emails to my other sources, Jezebel and Gigi at the magazine, I scribbled down the notes of everything I needed. For the next hour, I filled out Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests for the local police departments, the coroner’s office, and the state police department. I needed to see what information they had on all the deaths.
Around the time I was finishing my email requests, I heard raised voices from the living room. From the snippets I heard, something was wrong with the guys again.
While I padded down the hallway, Ransom was already on a tear. “Why the fuck are you turning on Jamarion?”
Dominic perched on the edge of the sofa. “He’s changed. That email the other day was one of many trying to make you look bad.”
Ransom spun around. “What fucking email?”
When I got to the living room, Dominic crossed his arms. “Didn’t you get the email saying how you’re too busy to address certain issues, so the task falls to him again? That passive-aggressive bullshit has been going on for the last year.”
