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She knew for a fact that it was strapped around his waist, right where it always was when she was around.
Muriel had cheated on her husband. Fritz had cheated on her. And Clarke was suspiciously silent...
Did being faithful in a past relationship mean that she wasn’t sexy anymore? To her former partner—or a future one?
“I’m free. It’s a new feeling. I’m not in any way looking for a relationship. I’m coming off from eighteen years of sex with only one man, and while I thought it was good, as good as it got, I’ve got this very nagging suspicion all of a sudden that it wasn’t all that great, as standards go.”
“If you want to have a no-commitment, onetime thing sex with me, just say so.” His words were a tad strangled sounding.
And she smiled to herself. He was strangling on his desire for her. She just knew that. And liked the sense of power that made her feel.
“I want to have sex with you tonight,” she said. They were in a safe zone. Trapped in a car, unable to rip each other’s clothes off. Or even kiss. “Just one and done.”
He nodded. Never took his eyes off the world around them, but he shifted and she saw the way his crotch filled out. “Fine. Tonight. One and done.”
Five words, spoken unemotionally, and her panties got wet.
* * *
Clarke knew he was a whole lot more versed in the sexual arena than Everleigh was. Worried that her innocence was part of what charmed him about her. Her fidelity.
He didn’t want to be the one who made sex just a physical occurrence, as opposed to the emotional commitment it seemed to have always been for her.
And figured she’d change her mind by the time they were back at his house, darkness had fallen and it was time for the deed.
The good man in him hoped she did. He couldn’t speak for his carnal side. Mostly because he was trying not to listen to that.
Troy called to let him know that there were no forensic-science conferences going on in New York or Chicago, but police from both cities had been alerted to be on the lookout for Randall Bowe. His photo was going up in all precincts in both places. Troy and the GGPD were in the process of trying to track down Baldwin Bowe.
Brenda Nolton apparently worked out for an hour, based on the time she entered and exited the gym. She got her nails done. And she went for coffee with three other women. Gal pals, not mere work associates, judging by the hugs and laughs, and four-headed huddles. And then she went home. Three o’clock on a Saturday afternoon and she was already back at her place.
Didn’t seem at all like a woman out to kill another.
Or to find something she wanted badly enough to kill for it.
“I really don’t think she’s the one,” Everleigh said as they watched the younger woman let herself into her little house. They’d grabbed a sandwich from a drive-through while Brenda had been in the nail place, keeping Brenda’s car in sight the whole time.
He’d heard back from his relative in Grand Rapids. Annabelle Belinski had an alibi for the entire past week. She’d been skiing in Colorado.
He was back to having no suspects.
“Let’s head back to your place,” he said. “I want to go through Fritz’s things, one by one, read every ledger, if I have to. There’s got to be something there that will tell us who he was close enough to, what he was into, that had him winding up dead.”
“I’m fine to go back, but what if whoever it was really did find it last night? How will we know that it’s done?”
Done. As in, she was ready to go home? To get out of having sex with him that night? Was she having regrets already?
“We’ll know it’s done when we find Fritz’s killer,” he told her. He’d stay out of her bedroom, out of her pants for the time being, but no way was he sending her back to that house alone. Not with a killer on the loose. “Whoever it is, they weren’t just looking for something. They wanted you dead, too.”
She shuddered. “I was hoping that they only wanted me dead so they could have me out of the way to find what they needed. Before I found it,” she told him.
“Then why weren’t they looking when you were in prison?” he asked. “Why did it start two days after you got released?” He’d been asking the questions for two long days. Was frustrated as hell that he hadn’t come up with the answers yet. “The only thing that makes sense is that this is a crime of passion. Whoever killed Fritz had emotional ties to him. That’s pretty obvious by the rage with which he was killed. And the choice of weapon. It wasn’t a premeditated murder. And it wasn’t self-defense, either, based on the crime scene. There was no sign of a scuffle. Nothing on Fritz that made it look like he’d been in any kind of struggle or had hit anyone. And no other blood at the scene except his. And afterward, whoever it was had to have hung around for a bit, perhaps exhibiting remorse. The way the paperweight was wiped clean...” He was watching Brenda’s house, but knew that was a dead end, too.
Putting the car in gear, he headed down the street and turned toward Everleigh’s neighborhood. He was missing something. And every minute that passed without him figuring out what it was was another minute her life was in danger.
* * *
“When we get close to your house, I need you to lie low.” Clarke’s words were the first spoken in close to five minutes. She’d been sitting there thinking about his thighs, his groin, his chest without a shirt on. Keeping her mind on the thing she wanted and off what she didn’t want.
