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CHAPTER 25
LEAVING the warmth of Alex’s naked body wasn’t easy, but Charlotte slipped out from under her arm with a purpose.
Quietly, she threw on the t-shirt and shorts at the top of her bag and tiptoed out of the bedroom with a mission.
In the
early morning hours, Alex’s house was perfectly still and silent. No Frania shouting at the downstairs neighbors. No downstairs neighbors blasting their music at ungodly hours. Nothing but peaceful tranquility followed Charlotte as she padded barefoot down the long corridor.
Unable to stop herself, Charlotte checked a few of the closed doors. There was a media room. A full guest suite. Too many bathrooms. Surprised that nothing was locked, Charlotte continued poking around until she stumbled upon an o ce.
The low light of the early morning flittered through the only window that wasn’t covered by drawn wood blinds. It cast a hazy glow over an antique writing desk at the center of the room surrounded by built-in bookshelves.
Running her fingertips over the edge as she walked around to the dark leather chair, Charlotte envisioned the
likes of Walt Whitman or Emily Dickinson pouring over prose and verse at a desk like this.
The leather squeaked under her weight as she sat. Did Alex ever really use this or was it for show? Fancy window dressing.
Charlotte opened the bound notebook first. The beautiful cream-colored pages, with their shiny gold lines, were empty. It had been silly to wish for her black book.
The events of the night before had given her hope. There had been an obvious undercurrent to some of Alex’s conversations. Particularly with the Thatchers. It had been palpable all the things they were saying without saying.
She regretted not having been there when Alex talked to Eric. Alex had managed to meet him the moment she went to the bathroom. She’d obviously been waiting for the chance to do it out of her presence. She should have done a better job of not drinking anything. She should have been prepared to stay connected with her at the hip.
Charlotte stopped kicking herself and set her eyes on the computer. Even though she didn’t expect it to be accessible, she opened the laptop.
“Damn,” she muttered as she stared at the empty box for the password.
Daring to try, Charlotte entered a couple of possibilities, but they were shots in the dark. If there was anything sensitive on the computer, Alex would use some random alphanumeric string mixed with symbols.
Charlotte didn’t push it. Alex might have some program that wiped the computer after too many wrong guesses.
She’d know it was her who was trying to break in.
What would Charlotte say if confronted? Sorry, babe. I was just trying to get confirmation on your elicit business so I could hand it over to my b who’s a detective in a task force dedicated to bringing you down. Nausea turned her stomach.
Charlotte groaned, closed the laptop, and slipped out into the corridor. She debated poking around upstairs but didn’t want to risk getting caught. At least she had a few names to check when she went back to work on Monday. Figuring out what treatments the Thatchers were booked for might be the lead she needed to finally get a break in the case.
Instead of starting back toward the master bedroom at the end of the hall, Charlotte headed for the kitchen. She never cared about cooking, but making pizza for Alex sparked something in her. She wanted that feeling of pride and excitement again, so she chased it to the huge stainless-steel fridge in the kitchen.
Charlotte had only gotten as far as tossing in mushrooms with the onions sautéing in butter when Alex’s slipper-covered feet slid over the dark wood floor.
“Good morning,” Alex said in a husky voice as she approached from behind.
With a wooden spoon, Charlotte moved the ingredients around in the pan as she glanced back. In nothing but a tank top and underwear, Alex was even more stunning than she’d been last night. A feat in and of itself.
“Good morning.” Charlotte smiled. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
It took every ounce of self-control not to tell Alex how much she loved to see her with her hair loose and a little wild.
Alex slipped in behind her, her arms wrapping around Charlotte’s waist like they’d never belonged anywhere else.
She loved feeling Alex like this. Tall and strong as she held her close and nuzzled her face in the nape of Charlotte’s neck. It was like she needed to inhale her. To consume her completely. Scent and all.
“I thought you left,” Alex confessed in a soft, groggy voice still heavy with sleep.
All the tiny blonde hairs on Charlotte’s arms stood on end. Alex’s tone had betrayed her delight that she’d been wrong. Would she really have been so disappointed if she’d gone?
