Authors: Brenda Jackson

Her Little Black Book (23 page)

BOOK: Her Little Black Book

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She shook her head. “No.”

His smile widened. “The object of the game is for me to shoot the puck into your goal. We're going to keep this simple. This is going to be the puck,” he said, easing one of her hands down to touch his manhood. “And this,” he said, reaching out and teasing her hot, wet womanhood with the tips of his fingers, “is the goal.”

She held his heated gaze. Barely got the words out when she asked, “Is it?”

“You betcha. It is definitely
my
goal.”

She swallowed deeply. “So let the games begin.”

His manhood was erect, pointed, ready at the entrance of her core. A shiver touched her when she felt the head of it right there, primed, hot and ready. And then he thrust into her in a way that totally stole her breath. She had to inhale deep to catch it again. And then he was playing his game, one he was evidently good at. His puck continuously, nonstop, over and over again, hit his goal.

He held on to her hips to make sure she stayed immobile on the table and she couldn't do anything but lie there and let him hit his mark time and time again, reveling in his skill. But she decided to show him she was a worthy opponent. She managed to lift her face up, and she stuck out her tongue and caught his lips.

He opened his mouth on a breathless sigh and she went in, determined to seduce him with her tongue, make him feel as powerless as he'd made her feel earlier. She greedily lapped him up, drank him in, tasted him like he was the best dessert she'd ever eaten. And when he broke free of her lips, threw his head back, and yelled, she knew what was coming. They both were. She felt his hot liquid shoot deep inside her, meeting his goal, and she couldn't do anything but allow a similar shudder to take over her body, surrender to him and to the passion he had created for them.

It seemed everything around them shook. She actually felt like the sky was falling. And sensations tore through her in a way that had her body bursting into flames. He leaned down and captured her mouth again, kissing her hungrily, and she returned his hunger in kind.

He pulled away from her mouth, and when he was
able to catch his breath, he whispered hotly against her moist lips, “Now we try the billiards table.”

The ringing of the phone awakened Lake. Courtney stirred in his arms when he reached to answer it. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet. He smiled, remembering all the games they had played. He and Courtney had had reason to make it an early night. “Yes?”

“Lake, sorry to bother you. This is Sonya. I got your phone number from Brandy and Grey.”

“That's fine,” he said in a low voice as he pulled himself up slightly, careful not to wake Courtney. “What can I do for you?”

“I'm trying to find Courtney, and her cell phone is off. I was wondering if perhaps you knew where she was?”

Lake smiled. Yes, he knew where she was. “Courtney is here with me,” he said, liking the way it sounded.

“Thank God. I need to speak with her, please. It's a family emergency.”

It was then that he heard the frantic sound of Sonya's voice. Something was wrong. “Sure. Hold on.”

He gave Courtney a few shakes before her eyes opened. She looked at him and smiled, was about to wrap her arms around his neck when he said, “Sonya is on the phone. She wants to talk to you. Said it's a family emergency.”

Courtney pulled herself up in bed and quickly took the phone he handed her. “Sonya? What's wrong?”

Lake didn't know what Sonya was saying, but he saw the widening of Courtney's eyes, the tears that suddenly appeared in them, and how the hand holding the phone began trembling. Courtney then threw the phone down in the bed, covered her face with her hand, and burst into tears.

Lake pulled her into his arms as he quickly picked up the phone. “Sonya? What the hell is going on? What did you tell her?”

He heard Sonya's own broken voice. “It's her father, Lake. Uncle Ron has been shot. He's been taken to surgery, and it doesn't look good.”

Detective Rick Blair found an unobtrusive spot in the hospital to glance down at his pad and study his notes. A college professor had been shot on campus while getting into his car. Blair had dismissed the possibility of a robbery when he arrived at the scene. The man was still wearing his Rolex watch, and he'd had a wallet full of cash that was still intact. Yes, Blair was convinced robbery had not been the motive. It was clear to see that the professor had been on someone's shit list and that someone wanted him dead. Who? An angry student, perhaps? A betrayed wife? A disgruntled lover? The husband or boyfriend of a lover? Or possibly someone to whom the professor owed money? He shook his head. The possibilities were unlimited.

He glanced up when his partner, Theo Hollis, appeared. Theo, a young upstart, had been asking questions
and taking statements. Another teacher, the one who'd found Professor Andrews slumped over his car in the parking lot, said he'd heard shots just moments before seeing a light-colored car racing away from the crime scene. It had been too dark to identify the make and model of the vehicle. But he did say the driver appeared to be a woman. That was all the information the man could provide. Too sketchy to base anything definitively.

“Aren't you glad this is your last month on the force?” Hollis said, grinning. “Everybody isn't blessed to be able to retire twice.”

Blair knew what Hollis was referring to. Blair had retired after twenty-five years as head of the FBI's investigative services. He and his wife had relocated from Denver to Orlando for warmer weather and a chance to live out the rest of their lives enjoying the good life. Less than a month after the move, his wife of twenty years was killed in a senseless car-jacking. When the local police could not come up with any leads, Blair had joined the force with one goalâto bring the men responsible for his wife's death to justice. In less than two weeks, he had done that very thing and had been asked by the police chief to remain to head up the Detective Division. That was ten years ago, and now he was ready to retire again. In a way, he couldn't wait to leave, especially when they dumped eager beavers like Hollis in his lap to train. The man was a hothead who relied only on what he saw as the facts and didn't waste time adding gut instinct into the mix.

Instead of responding to Hollis's comment, he asked, “Okay, what you got?”

Hollis grinned. “This one is a piece of cake. I just finished interviewing Andrews's girlfriend, andâ”

“Girlfriend?” At Hollis's nod, Blair then asked, “How did you find out about her?”

“Andrews's cell phone. That was the last number he called, so I checked things out. And according to Ashira Wilson, Andrews had planned on asking his wife for a divorce to marry her.”

“Do we have proof of that?” Blair asked.

“No, but I do have proof that Andrews recently took both his wife and girlfriend on a two-week trip to Hawaii. They just returned a few days ago. Shit, how he could afford to do that, I don't know. I can't take my old lady on a trip out of Florida, and he was able to foot the bill for two women. Anyway, Wilson has airline and hotel receipts to prove it.”

A smile curved Hollis's lips when he added, “Seems like he was bedding both of them on the trip. The girlfriend in the morning and the wife in the afternoon. Wilson figured the wife must have found out about it, as well as the fact he was about to ask her for a divorce, and shot him. You know how it is, Blair. Hell knows no fury like a woman scorned.”

Blair shook his head, thinking that if the man had really done what Hollis claimed, then he was really a lowdown dirty prick to disrespect his wife in such a manner. “Before we fly off the handle and accuse the wife of anything, let's talk to her and see what she has to say.”

A few moments later, they entered the waiting room. Blair immediately focused on the occupants. His trained
eye latched on to who he believed was Mrs. Ronald Andrews. Even in her seemingly distraught state, he thought she was a very beautiful woman. Dignified looking. Refined.

Then there was a woman by her side, a younger version, whom he immediately figured was the daughter. Another older woman was standing close by who bore a resemblance to the older Mrs. Andrews, so Blair knew he could count on her being a sister or a close family member. He also noted a man in his late thirties or early forties standing by the window whose sharp gaze had the younger Ms. Andrews within its scope. Blair quickly assumed he was the younger woman's husband or lover.

By the look of things, now was not a good time to ask questions; the family was clearly upset. He would even go so far as to say they were still in shock. However, a man was in surgery fighting for his life, and it was Blair's and Hollis's job to piece together what had happened and to make sure the person responsible was brought to justice.

Before Blair could open his mouth to announce their presence, Hollis, in his unsympathetic way, walked into the center of the room and said, “I am Detective Hollis, and this is my partner, Detective Blair. Whoever is Barbara Andrews, we need to ask you some questions.”

Everyone glanced over at Hollis, and Blair could just imagine what was going through their minds. They were probably thinking the same thing he had a few times over the past month: that Hollis needed to improve on his people skills and grab a bunch of manners while he was at it. Blair decided to hang back and be an observer, when
everyone gave him only a cursory once-over before returning their gaze to Hollis, evidently erroneously assuming Hollis was the man in charge. Blair wasn't surprised when the woman he figured to be Ronald Andrews's wife slowly stood and asked, “I'm Barbara Andrewsâwhat questions do you have to ask me?”

Hollis forced a smile. “Several. But the main one is what reason did you have for shooting your husband?”

Blair flinched. He could tell Hollis's accusation was like a slap to the woman's face. He watched her blanch before grabbing a nearby chair for support. Before she could bother respondingâalthough Blair doubted that she would have been capable of doing so anywayâthe younger woman, flanked by the other older woman, came to stand beside Barbara Andrews. Even the man who'd been standing by the window had moved beside the three women. It was the younger woman who spoke, getting right in Hollis's face while doing so.

“How dare you accuse my mother of something like that! What gives you the right toâ?”

“Facts that I've gathered, ma'am. That's what gives me the right. Apparently it's a fact that the two of them were having martial problems. And just who might you be?”

“Courtney Andrews. And that man who is in surgery fighting for his life is my father, and I won't allow you to throw your accusations at my mother instead of going out and doing your job and getting the person who is really responsible. And as far as my parents having marital
problems, what married couple don't have problems at one time or another. But wherever you got your information, they evidently forgot to mention that my parents were working out their problems and had just returned from spending two wonderful weeks together in Hawaii on what they considered a second honeymoon.”

“Now isn't that sweet,” Hollis sneered. “Or another way to look at it is that it's really sick, since according to what we've learned, your father also paid the way for someone else to be with him while on this trip.”

“What are you talking about, Detective?” the man asked.

Hollis raised a dark brow and met Lake's eyes. “And who are you?”

“I'm a close friend of Courtney's. Lake Masters. Now please tell us what you're talking about.”

Instead of answering Lake, Hollis turned his attention back to Barbara Andrews. “Do you know an Ashira Wilson?”

Blair watched the woman's brow crease in deep concentration as she tried to remember someone with that name. He suddenly felt a sense of uneasiness as he watched her. If the information Ashira Wilson had given Hollis earlier was true, then something wasn't right.

“No, I don't know Ashira Wilson,” she finally said.

Hollis smiled. “Ms. Wilson claims that you do know her. She also claims that the reason you shot your husband is because you found out that he had been having an affair with her and that he had the gall to also take her along to Hawaii with the two of you, and that he had put her in a
suite on the other side of the same hotel. She alleges that you found out he was bedding the both of youâ”

Blair straightened from leaning on the wall when his gut instinct kicked in. All four persons had stunned looks on their faces, but the one who appeared to be more shocked than anyone was Barbara Andrews. Blair knew at that moment there was no way she had known what her husband had done. The look on her face was proof enough. She wasn't that good an actress. Suddenly his heart went out to her, a woman who was finding out from Hollis in the most uncouth manner just what an asshole her husband really was. She had been disrespected as a wife in the worst way possible. Blair inhaled in deep anger. Ronald Andrews had a lot of balls. As far as he was concerned, the person who'd shot him should have gone for the lower part of his body, right below the belt, instead of the man's chest.

Refusing to let Hollis continue his brutish way of handling things, Blair quickly stepped forward. “That's enough, Hollis. Dammit, she didn't know. Just look at her. Dammit, it's evident that she didn't know.”

Hollis shut his mouth while Barbara Andrews dropped to her knees and started crying out like a puppy who'd gotten kicked.

Less than an hour later, Blair sat at a table in the hospital cafeteria, downing a cup of coffee. To get her to calm down, the doctors had to sedate Barbara Andrews. Being told that the man who claimed to love her had taken another
woman on a trip meant to rebuild their marriage was a low blow to everyone who'd heard what Hollis had said. She hadn't known about Ashira Wilson being in Hawaii. And if he were to believe that, he also believed she knew nothing about Ronald Andrews's plans to ask for a divorce to marry the young woman. If what Wilson claimed about the divorce bit was true.

To get rid of Hollis for a while, Blair had sent him back to the university to follow up a new lead. The university had called. One of the students had come forward to say a woman driving a light-colored car had stopped him when he was leaving the campus earlier that day, to ask where the college professors normally parked. She had also asked if he knew whether Professor Andrews was teaching classes that day. The student would be taken downtown to headquarters to work with the police artist. Hopefully they would be able to come up with a composite sketch of the woman. The one thing Blair had found interesting was that according to the student, the woman was young, possibly in her middle twenties, which definitely wasn't Barbara Andrews. Blair wondered if perhaps Ashira Wilson had pointed the finger at someone else to hide her own involvement.

“Detective Blair?”

He glanced up from sipping his coffee and looked into the face of Courtney Andrews, a younger version of her mother. Barbara was a very beautiful woman who hadn't deserved what her husband had done, and Courtney didn't deserve it either.

He got to his feet. “Ms. Andrews, how's your mother?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“She's resting. Thanks for putting a stop to Detective Hollis's heartless badgering,” she said, taking the chair across from him. “My mother honestly didn't know what my father had done. She really thought their trip to Hawaii had been productive.”

Blair nodded as he sat back down. For Ronald Andrews, it had been. He'd had two women at his beck and call. “It would really help if I got answers to a couple questions. And I prefer asking them than letting Hollis do it.”

She nodded. “And I prefer that you do the asking, too.”

“All right.” He pulled a pad out his jacket pocket. “I'm convinced your mother didn't know about the affair in Hawaii. Were there others?”

Courtney nodded sadly. “Yes, my father has a history of being unfaithful.”

“Okay. Who was the most recent woman, other than Ashira Wilson, that your father was involved with?”

“A woman by the name of Melissa Langley.”

“Your mother knew about her?”

“Not until Melissa decided to go public with their affair by calling my mother and informing her about it. Melissa also sent photos of them together in compromising positions just in case my mother didn't believe her.”

“Did your parents split because of it?”

Courtney shook her head. “Yes, for a couple of months, but Mom took him back.”

Blair continued to write on the pad, thinking a woman like Barbara Andrews should have been loved and pampered instead of being made a fool of. Andrews had taken advantage of his wife's forgiving nature. “What else can you tell me about Melissa Langley?”

“I can tell you that she claimed she was pregnant, but for a while Dad was saying the baby wasn't his.”

“Has the baby been born yet?” Blair asked.

BOOK: Her Little Black Book

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