I run from the room, trying to ignore the feeling of his come running down. I hit the screen to turn on the cameras. I then tap the button and try to calm my panting breaths.
"I'm so sorry, I was in the shower." It's the first thing that comes to mind. I instantly regret it, as he will notice Beau was with me. " I just need a few moments before I can open the door." I let the intercom button go and hit the other button for a long second to open the outside door.
I fly to my wardrobe and grab jeans and a tee shirt. I peel off my panties and wipe my thighs, then throw them under my bed. The sexiness of what just happened has turned to utter embarrassment as I try to conceal it.
I'm hopping into jeans when Beau walks out of the bathroom. He calmly struts in just a towel wrapped low on his hips. Here, I am racing to dress, and he acts like he has all the time in the world.
"I'm starting to see the wisdom in walls and doors," I huff, adjusting my breast in my bra then throwing on a baggy shirt.
A knock sounds on the door.
"You! Are trouble," I furiously whisper, even though they can’t hear me, then scowl at his lazy grin. "I'm about to open the door," I warn. He shrugs, and I pull the towel from him and smack him with it.
"Coming!" I shout, even though I know they won't hear me. "Get dressed," I hiss and head toward the door, "In the bathroom, Casanova." I add. He chuckles but grabs his bag.
I smooth my hair and unlock the door, "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. Please forgive me. Come on in." I stand back to let Detective Cortez and his partner, whose name I don't remember, in. They both look around, taking in my home in a purposely casual manner.
"Would either of you like a drink, coffee, water?"
“No thanks.”
“That’ll be great.”
I am conflicted by their joint reply.
“Coffee,” says Detective Cortez while his partner side eyes him. I get out cream and sugar, then brew a cup for him. After I pull his from the drip, I immediately start another cup for Beau.
"I’m sorry, but I don't recall your name," I say to the younger female detective while stiring the coffee.
"Hall, Detective Hall," she replies curtly.
"What can I do for you?" I ask after motioning to the tall chairs near the kitchen island. They both sit. Cortez unbuttons his suit jacket from around his protruding belly and sighs. I turn back to the coffee machine to pull Beau’s cup from the drip and begin making it the way I have watched him do a couple of times.
Hall speaks first, "How well did you know the victim Tasha Carter?" She fires at me.
"I didn't. I never really met her, before um, the day before she um, passed away.” I end lamely, looking into the coffee as it turns a light brown. I turn to look at Hall, “Like I told Detective Cortez I went with Beau to grab a few of his things from the apartment. He was staying there. I had no idea whose place it was or that she was there at the time, neither did he.” I move to the island to properly face them but run a cloth over the surface while speaking, to busy myself. “She walked out of the bedroom, and I left shorty after that. I never spoke to her directly."
Detective Hall looks at me, saying something that throws me, "Why do you think the killer left behind the carnations?"
"Wa..what?" I stammer, "W-what are you talking about?" I look back and forth between the two of them. The bathroom door slams alerting me of Beau’s presence. Beau stomps up beside me and glares at the detective.
"I told you she didn't see them." He frowns pressing his lips into a thin line.
“What are you guys talking about? What carnations?" I can hear my voice shake, but I can’t stop it.
Beau's large palm lands on my back and slides up to my neck.
I turn my eyes, searching his steady green ones.
"It's nothing for you to worry about Samantha," he promises while maintaining eye contact. I turn back to the two detectives and both of them are watching us with open interest.
Cortez is the one that's speaks, "Mr. Huntington, it's nice to see you again and so soon. Yesterday when we spoke, I forgot to ask where you'd be staying." He looks at me and smirks, "I suppose I can find you here, should the need arise." His tone makes our living together sound lewd, indecent. I step over to the counter, putting my back to them as I face the coffee machine and grab Beau’s cup.
I hold the mug between my palms and let the implications of what she said sink in. Carnations. Why would that flower be significant to them? Do they know about me receiving the flowers? Did they say the killer left those flowers? And if so, why?
Beau's stern voice interrupts my musings, "I've given you my phone records and told you every detail I can recall of our brief encounter, Thursday night. I've cooperated completely. I want whoever did this off the streets, and to pay for what he did. I think you're wasting your time on us." His voice rises considerably in agitation as he speaks with the detectives.
I place my hand on his arm and give him the coffee, then turn to the two people that are making him so upset.
"I'm really sorry. As you can tell, I didn't know about the flowers. I didn't see any flowers. I don't know how I'd be of any help to you." Beau doesn’t want them to know. I don’t know why, but I step around mentioning my own stalker with carnations.
Cortez nods his head and takes the final sips of his drink, "Right, if either of you think of anything else just give us a call." He sets a white card on the island and stands up.
Hall is quick to follows.
"We'll be in touch," she says as they head for the door.
I rush around the kitchen to open it before they leave.
Once the door closes, I look over to Beau for answers. His expression is closed off, and his arms are crossed over his chest.
