Burning Seduction (17 page)

From the yellow and green hue to the skin, the bruises looked about a week old, and if they hadn’t come from an accident, all she could think of was that Mr. Goddard might have caused them. Charlotte knew nothing about the man other than he was Harmon’s boss, and that he might have been responsible for setting him up.

“You’re right,” Mrs. Goddard said. “This chaise lounge is incredibly comfortable. I never could have done this without you.” She swung her legs over the side and stood. “Let me get your check for the balance of the job before I fall asleep here.”

She hustled out and Charlotte looked around once more to enjoy the beautiful room. Less than a minute later, Mrs. Goddard returned and paid her.

“I added a little extra because you worked so hard and so fast. I plan to tell all my friends about you.”

Joy and satisfaction filled her. What a nice woman. “Thank you.”

As soon as Charlotte left, her mind began to spin. She wanted to tell Trent about the unusual bruising on Mrs. Goddard’s body. Since it was a Friday night, and Charlotte had a large check in her hand for her first solo job, she wanted to celebrate. Naturally, she wanted Trent to be there with her.

Calling and asking him over to her place might backfire, since he always seemed so focused on his job. Trent had said their two interludes together had been nothing short of spectacular, but a part of him remained distant, and that was the part she wanted most.

She could suggest they meet at a restaurant to discuss her new observation, but when their meal ended, he might excuse himself and say he had work to do.

Damn, seduction was no easy chore. She stopped at a light and snapped her fingers. If calling him might backfire, texting could be a better choice. Perhaps if she picked up a to-go order at Italiano’s, she could say she needed someone to help her eat it. He’d see through her ploy to get him over to her house unless she told him she had information about the case. Once he arrived, she felt fairly certain she could stoke his fire.

Chapter Sixteen

T
rent’s shift at
work was over, but he didn’t want to leave, despite it being the start of the weekend. Something kept bothering him about the case. He hadn’t been able to reach Richard Delaney, Elaine Goddard’s brother, and he hated loose ends. Trent didn’t understand why he was so focused on the man, but perhaps he wanted confirmation that Bill had been aware his wife had misbehaved at the party. But three years was a long time to be concerned about, or even remember, a kiss.

Trent wondered if he was trying to prove that Bill had been the one to frame Harmon, or did Trent seriously think Delaney had some insight as to who wanted to harm his brother-in-law?

Fuck if he knew. Of late, his head hadn’t been on straight. For a brief moment, he debated asking Dan Hartwick to take him off the case, but Trent believed he could solve this murder despite the connection to his brother.

He leaned back in his office chair and let his inner demons battle it out. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit Charlotte had turned his world upside down. Ever since that week in the cabin where he’d protected her, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind, and that loss of control worried him.

His phone buzzed, and he hoped it was Delaney returning his call. When he swiped his screen he smiled. It was a text from Charlotte. He hadn’t spoken to her since their amazing encounter, but she was busy not only with her parents but also needed to spend time at the Goddard household finishing her job, and he hadn’t wanted to disturb her—or perhaps he didn’t want to disturb himself.

He checked the message and then read it again.
Learned something about Mrs. Goddard that I believe you’ll find interesting. At Italiano’s picking up dinner since I finished the job. Want to come over and celebrate with me?

He had to hand it to her. She knew what would entice him—a double lure. Offering him a tidbit about the case as well as herself. The sexual energy always sizzled between them, and the lovemaking was better with her than with any other woman. Charlotte was the first person he’d met who understood him. Her father being in the business had given her an insight no one else had.

He texted her back:
Red or white? What time?

Seconds later, she responded.
Red.
How about seven?

He pressed the icon for a smiley face and actually grinned. He pushed back his chair and gathered his things, shelving his unease about leaving before he’d done all he could. Trent had close to an hour to return home, shower, and buy the wine before he had to be at her place.

On his way out, he called Vic who answered on the first ring. “You doing surveillance?” If Vic had been home, he might not have answered.

“Have been for two evenings, but the man is predictably boring. I’ll have to hand it to John Samuels, he seems like a hard worker.”

Dead ends sucked. “Give it another couple of days and see what he does on the weekend.”

“Roger that.”

Vic disconnected and Trent wondered if Vic had wished he’d asked Trent whether he was going to see Charlotte this weekend. If he were Vic, he sure as hell would be concerned about who his daughter dated.

*     *     *

Trent had conflicting
feelings about celebrating with Charlotte since mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

As he neared her apartment, he realized just how much he was looking forward to discussing the case with her. He had to be careful how much he told her, but he was interested in her theories. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d spoken with her father about Bill Goddard’s death, but Charlotte would draw her own conclusions instead of depending on what her dad said.

He had no doubt that Charlotte would do everything in her power to seduce him, but he had to remain strong. She was slowly eating away at his resolve to keep his distance. Unfortunately, as soon as he kissed her hello, she’d be able to tell how much he wanted her, and she’d turn up the heat on her seduction.

With the bottle of wine in hand, he climbed the steps to her apartment. He wanted to greet her properly before asking what she’d found out at Mrs. Goddard’s house.

Trent knocked and a few seconds later, Charlotte opened the door, only this time she was dressed in cute jeans and a rather loose blouse, instead of a sexy siren outfit. While she looked hot, it didn’t appear as if she had invited him over for sex, and he refused to address the disappointment rushing through him.

“Let me set this down.” Trent wanted to start the evening off on a less uncomfortable note than the last time he’d been here. He also wanted her to know that he hadn’t come just for her information.

“Thanks for picking up the wine.” She looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes of hers.

That seemed to be his M.O. “Maybe I should just buy a case and leave it here.” Oh shit, he never should’ve said that. The implication was that he’d be at her place a lot, and while that might be nice, he certainly didn’t want to lead her on.

“That would be great,” she said, actually looking a little uneasy.

Trent definitely was out of practice when it came to dating. “Congratulations on finishing your first Rock Hard job.”

Before giving her the chance to respond, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her. Trent had to use all of his control not to rub his hands over her glorious body, but the moment she delved into his mouth, his cock went ramrod straight and every hormone in his body flooded his system. For their sake, he had to step back.

“Wow,” she said. “You sure do know how to kiss a girl.”

Not just any girl—you
.

He didn’t want to talk about his feelings as they were still too unclear. “Didn’t someone promise me dinner?” Trent raised his brows and inhaled the rich scent of tomato sauce.

“I did. If you open the wine, I’ll serve the food.”

This time the two of them moved about the kitchen without getting in each other’s way. It was almost as if they knew what the other person was about to do.

He retrieved the glasses and the corkscrew, and had the wine poured just as she brought the food to the table. For a moment, he imagined what it would be like coming home to this every night, but then he worried she’d have the meal all ready to go and he’d have to call for the umpteenth time and say something had come up at work. Disappointing Charlotte would eventually wear on him—and on her.

Trent brought the wine over to the table and waited for her to be seated before he sat down. Instead of going straight into cop mode, he dove into his meal. She’d tell him about Mrs. Goddard when she felt like it.

The first taste hit the spot. Only then did Trent remember he’d forgotten to take lunch and had eaten something rather unhealthy out of a snack machine. “This is really good,” he said.

“If I didn’t think I’d gained a ton of weight, I’d eat at Italiano’s every night. The food there is fantastic.” She finished chewing and taking a sip of her wine before she leaned back in her seat. “You’re not going to ask me about Mrs. Goddard?”

Trent laughed. “I figured you’d tell me in your own time. I didn’t want to come off as being insensitive.” She smiled, but he didn’t want to ask what that was about.

“I’m thinking that Mrs. Goddard might have been abused by her husband.”

Trent’s hand stilled. He’d run a slew of scenarios in his head, some including Mrs. Goddard in the staring role, but not one of them had her being an abused wife. “Care to elaborate?”

Charlotte told him about touching Mrs. Goddard’s shoulder and how she’d winced. Then when the woman was climbing onto the chaise lounge, Charlotte had spotted the week-old bruises.

She waved her fork. “I tried to think of what might have caused them, but having bruises on both sides of her body confused me.”

“Your theory has a lot of validity, but I need more facts before I can pursue that line of thought.” Even now he was thinking about how to gather more information. Perhaps her brother could chime in about whether he thought Bill had been the kind of man to hit or shove his wife, or else the neighbors might be willing to spill the beans, assuming they had any idea. “Did you get the sense that Mrs. Goddard would have allowed this manhandling to happen?”

“Allow it to happen? As in she begged him to rough her up?”

Trent realized his mistake instantly and held up a hand. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What did you mean?” Charlotte’s posture turned defensive, and he couldn’t blame her.

“I’m betting that if anyone tried to hurt you, you’d either inflict some wounds on him or else go to the police and charge him with assault.”

“Damn right I would.” Charlotte’s lips were firm.

“Good. Do you think Mrs. Goddard is the type of woman to go to the police?” Sadly, not every woman was.

Charlotte looked off to the side. “No. She’d have too much to lose if she helped send her husband to prison. From what I could tell, Mrs. Goddard likes nice things and she enjoys being a lady of leisure. Without her husband’s income, she might not have what she desires. Have you looked to see if there was a pre-nup?”

Trent chuckled. “You are something else, Charlotte Hart. And the answer to your question is yes I did look, and no, there was no pre-nup.”

She sipped her wine. “So, if she divorced her husband, she could have received half of his possessions.”

“It looks that way.”

He’d also asked about a life insurance policy. While substantial, half of Bill’s wealth was probably more. Charlotte continued eating, but from the way her eyes were roaming around, she was thinking hard.

She looked up at him. “Maybe her sister’s husband decided to do something about the abuse.”

Or Elaine’s own brother. “It did appear as though she and her sister were very close, so it’s possible the sister’s husband would want to put an end to Elaine’s pain.”

Charlotte wiped her mouth with her napkin. “There appears to be a lot of suspects. How do you plan to narrow it down?”

“Good question. I have to keep an open mind. Mrs. Goddard said she was with her sister at the time of the murder, but it’s possible the sister was covering for her. On the other hand, statistics show that women are not prone to stabbing their victims. Poison is more their game, or shooting them.”