Secrets and Lies (Crimson Romance) (2 page)

For most of her childhood she’d seen him daily. They’d acted out scenes from every play and movie he knew. She’d been Bonnie to his Clyde, Princess Leia to his Han Solo, Tonto to his Lone Ranger. He’d created worlds out of pure imagination, and taken her there with him. Anything had been possible by his side. She could be anything or anyone, and so could he.

And now he was picking up a hooker?

The thought startled her so badly his name leapt from her throat. “Charlie Ziffkin, what are you doing?”

Charlie whirled, and his summer blue gaze flew to her face. He looked like he’d been goosed. “Juliana?”

“Juliana!” echoed in her earpiece. “What are you doing?” Hector sounded like he was coming unhinged.

The blonde latched onto Charlie’s arm. “Get lost, ho. He’s taken.” Her long nails were blood red against his dark sleeve.

“Keep your mind on business!” Hector demanded.

“Now, ladies,” Charlie soothed as he slipped his arm from the blonde’s grasp. “There’s no need for name-calling. Trixie, I’m so sorry. Perhaps another time?” He always was a sweet talker.

Trixie gave Juliana a withering look and minced away on her five-inch spiked heels, working her scantily clad booty for all it was worth.

Then Juliana and Charlie were alone for the first time in thirteen years. Unexpected excitement pulsed through her body at his nearness. Her breaths shortened, and her heart raced. Tension pooled in her lower belly. She’d lusted after the skinny boy, but that paled compared to how the fully grown man made her feel. Now she knew what it felt like to make love. What might it be like to consummate what they’d started so long ago?

“Juliana, make a move,” Karl prompted.

Charlie was getting an eyeful of her cleavage and everything else her outfit exposed. At last he looked her in the eyes again with dilated pupils. “You’ve grown up.”

“So have you.” She forced herself to take a step toward him, then another, until she could touch him. His heat rolled over her, making her sweat. Her pulse punched into overdrive. Her mouth dried. He would have been her first if her father hadn’t stopped them.

She walked her fingers up the sleeve of his black suit jacket. He wore it with a high-collared maroon vest underneath, the collar standing up around his neck, and a black t-shirt under that. With stonewashed jeans, he looked trendy and sexy.

She licked her lips. “You look mighty fine, Charlie.”

“I like what I see, too.” His finger skimmed her bare arm, giving her goose bumps.

“Want to finish what we started all those years ago?”

His face lowered toward hers. His breath stirred the hair beside her face. He smelled like mint. “Do you need money, Juliana?”

“Everybody needs money.” She gave him a steamy look. It wasn’t hard.

“How much?”

“For fifty bucks I could ease that itch in your pants.” She nodded to the sizable bulge in his jeans.

“Your father wouldn’t stop us this time?”

Juliana winced inwardly. Her father wouldn’t, but his minions would. “No,” she purred. “We could go all the way.”

Charlie stared at her with an intensity she couldn’t define. She wished they were having this conversation under different circumstances. She dared not take too deep a breath for fear her heart would crack.

From inside his suit jacket he pulled out a black wallet. Juliana’s smile felt ready to fracture. He handed the bills to her. It was like pushing through thick mud to reach him.

Their fingers touched. Despite him being a john, a thrill ran through her. She thought she saw sadness in his eyes, which made no sense. The moment seemed frozen. There was only Charlie and the shattering of a young girl’s dream. He’d been her hero, even when he’d played the villain.

“Freeze, sleazebag!” Hector yelled, pointing his automatic at Charlie. She hadn’t even heard him approach.

Karl materialized from behind Charlie, gun drawn. “Hands on the back of your head and lace your fingers together.”

“Step away from him, Juliana,” Hector ordered.

“Ah.” A smile tugged at one side of Charlie’s mouth, sexy and knowing. His blue eyes sparkled like sunlight off a tropical bay. “The family business.” He put his hands on his head and interlaced his fingers.

Hector glared at him. “Shut up, scum.”

“You’re making a mistake.” Was that laughter in Charlie’s voice?

Karl was rough patting him down. Charlie never took his eyes off Juliana. Why did he think this was funny?

“You’re under arrest for solicitation—” Hector began.

“You’d better look in my wallet,” Charlie interrupted, even as Karl cuffed him.

Hector’s eyebrows lifted. “You offering us a bribe?”

“No, I’m trying to save you some humiliation.”

“He was always a good liar,” Juliana informed the vice cops.

“Don’t believe me then.” Charlie shrugged. Hard to do with his hands cuffed behind him.

Hector reached into Charlie’s jacket and pulled out his wallet. Flipping it open, he frowned. “You’re a private investigator?”

Juliana’s mouth fell open, but she recovered enough to say, “He is not. He’s a Hollywood actor.”

“Retired,” Charlie said, smiling.

“It’s not true,” Juliana insisted.

“I’m on a case.”

“You were trying to get laid.”

He quirked a dark brow. “Do you think I have to pay women to sleep with me?”

Juliana closed her mouth with a snap. She couldn’t imagine any woman saying no to him. “You offered me money for sex.”

“I offered you money because I felt sorry for you. I thought something terrible must have happened for you to turn to prostitution. I did it for old time’s sake.”

Hector waved the wallet. “It doesn’t matter what you say. Until this checks out, you’re going to the station for booking.”

“Ask that prostitute, Trixie, what I wanted from her,” Charlie said.

All of them looked in the direction she’d gone, but the street was deserted.

“Guess your witness split,” Karl said.

“You’re going downtown after all.” Hector’s smile lit up his swarthy face.

“You want to set up someplace else while Karl runs him in?” Juliana asked. She didn’t want to go to the station with Charlie.

“Sure. Let’s go over to Second Avenue and see what we can catch.”

“See you around, Juliana,” Charlie called as Karl led him away. His eyes still sparkled.

Not if I see you first
. She climbed into the van with Hector, wishing, for once, that Charlie hadn’t been acting and had told the truth.

• • •

“Ziffkin.” Hernandez, the portly Latino booking clerk at the police station, stared at Charlie’s paperwork. “Any relation to Rick Ziffkin?”

Charlie tried not to react. “Brother.” How’d this cop know Rick? Last he’d heard, Rick was a police detective in Fort Lauderdale.

“Then you should know better than to solicit a prostitute.”

“I wasn’t.”

Hernandez held up a meaty hand. “I heard the story. You’re still going to cool your heels in here until we check it out.”

Charlie sighed. He hadn’t foreseen this delay. But then he hadn’t expected to meet Juliana Sanchez in hooker clothes. After Hernandez locked him in a cell, he sat down to wait.

Juliana Sanchez. Her name melted like chocolate mint ice cream in his mouth—delectable with impact. A face of sculpted bones and those dark Sophia Loren eyes beckoned men to sin.
Mama mia
! His body still hummed with excitement, and he was still partially aroused. Wavy, dark brown hair fell to her breasts . . . and what breasts they were. Mounds to dive into and make love to for hours. They were more mouthwatering now than when she’d been sixteen and offered him his heart’s desire. His palms itched to touch them. He’d had his hands on her breasts back then, but he’d swear she had more now. Maybe she had implants. No, breasts like hers were real.

Legs a man wanted wrapped around him in the throes of passion. Full pouty lips a man wanted to kiss for hours and then watch surround his cock. God, he ached for her.

She was lovelier and sexier now than she’d been when she’d captured his teenage heart. He’d thought he’d die every time he saw her. One day she was the girl next door, his best friend, the person he told all his dreams to, and the next she was . . . well, more.

Watching her walk home from the bus stop in her Catholic school uniform had given him a daily hard-on. He’d wanted to lift that plaid skirt and plunge his dick into her.

And then one day out of the blue she’d offered herself to him. He couldn’t get her on her back fast enough. He’d gotten his hands inside her blouse, her panties off and his fly open before her father found them.

Charlie was lucky Sergeant Sanchez hadn’t shot him. But the Sergeant had told his father, who’d given him a whipping and a lecture about good girls like Juliana. And her father had sent her away. Charlie hadn’t seen her since.

Right now he felt just like he’d felt back then—aching with unfulfilled lust and regret.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” His brother Rick’s voice broke through his reverie.

Charlie jerked in surprise. He rose and approached the bars, his heart pounding hard in his chest. It took all his acting ability to play it cool. He’d dreaded this meeting for two years. Did his brother think the wrong brother had died? “I didn’t know you were home.”

“I didn’t know you were either.” Rick had the same dark brown hair as him, but cropped close to his head, and their father’s brown eyes. He was thirty-four, four years older than Charlie, and built like a football player, like their dad.

“I flew in last night.” Charlie kept his tone light. “How’d you know I was here?”

“The desk sergeant called me. What the hell were you thinking? Solicitation?” Rick spat the last word.

“I’m on a case. I was trying to get information.”

“You’re an actor, Charlie.”

Charlie shook his head. He blamed himself for their two-year estrangement. “I gave it up.”

Rick snorted. “When? You wanted to be an actor your whole life.”

“I wasn’t very good at it. I got tired of bit parts, four am wake-up calls, and working three jobs to pay the rent. Now people pay me to find things for them.”

Rick glared at him. “C’mon, pull the other one. You’d sooner quit breathing than give up acting.”

Charlie shrugged. That had been true once. Before Billy died. “Fine. Don’t believe me.”

“Have you seen Mom and Dad?”

Charlie looked away. “No. I told you I’m on a case. I didn’t know I was going to be in town.”

“Are you going to see them?”

Charlie smiled and tapped the bars. “I’m locked up at the moment.”

“Still a funny man. Listen, you should see Mom and Dad while you’re here. I’ll call them and—”

“No!” Charlie tried to control his breathing. He couldn’t face his parents yet, especially not while he was in jail. He was still building his business, and he wanted them to see him successful.

Rick used his cop stare on him, but Charlie had grown up with it, had watched it perfected. It had no effect.

“Are you avoiding something, bro?” Rick demanded.

A lot of things.
“I can’t waste my client’s time for personal matters, Rick. He needs his property back. And sitting around in this cell isn’t getting me any closer to retrieving it.”

“You haven’t been home in two years. It’s hard to believe you couldn’t spare a few days in all that time.”

“New business owners have to work sixty hours a week or more. We don’t get time off. And right now it’s only me, so even when I’m not on a case, there’s paperwork, billing, paying bills, soliciting work. And then there’s the mundane personal stuff like laundry and groceries.”

“I get it,” Rick growled. “It doesn’t have anything to do with avoiding Billy’s grave.”

Charlie was proud of how he controlled his flinch. Billy’s death was a wound that wouldn’t heal. But Charlie hadn’t been an actor all those years without learning something about his craft. “I dealt with his death two years ago.” When he’d changed his life. “I swear on his grave I’m on a case.”

Rick sighed. “I don’t understand it, but I believe you.”

“How long have you been back, Rick?”

“Four months.”

“And how long ’til you get antsy and leave again?”

Rick’s lips quirked into a funny, silly smile. It unnerved Charlie. “I turned down a chance last week. My
wife
didn’t want to move.”

Charlie’s world rocked on its ear. “Wife? When did you get married?”

Rick looked smug. “Two months ago.” Then he sobered. “I called to invite you but you didn’t answer. I left you a message.”

Charlie would have remembered a call like that, but he hadn’t been checking his home answering machine much. “Sorry. I told you I’m building my business.” Rick looked ready to argue, so he said, “Tell me about the woman who nailed your feet to Miami.”

He listened in amazement to the brother who’d pursued evidence and facts his whole life describe his wife, Analise, who allegedly saw and spoke to ghosts. And Charlie had thought there were strange people in California.

“She made me take dance lessons.” Rick grimaced. “So we can dance with two of the ghosts during the full moon. It’s hard not to run into the girls, since I can’t see them. I try to read their location from where Analise is, but I’m wrong a lot. I hate how it feels when they float through me.” He shuddered and gripped his stomach. “Analise says it’s because I’m very sensitive to spiritual energy.”

Charlie gaped. He could not believe the words coming out of Rick’s mouth.

“But I love Analise. That’s our deal—if I accept the ghosts, she’ll live with me. I can’t wait for you to meet her. You’re going to love her. You’ll love our dog, Fitz, too.”

Rick had settled down with a wife and a dog. He didn’t seem troubled by Billy’s death or unsolved murder. Maybe when Charlie’s business was a success, Billy’s death would stop haunting him.

Juliana limped into the precinct behind Hector and their latest catch—a self-proclaimed preacher she recognized from television. He had an adoring wife and two young children. Juliana felt disgusted to have collared him.

When she reached the squad room, she pulled up short. Charlie Ziffkin sat on the edge of her vice friend’s desk, his leg swinging, the right side of his mouth quirked up in a sexy smile.