Raspberry Crush (23 page)

"You have to ask?"

"Come on, it's key, don't you see? If we want to find out who his girlfriend was, we need to find out more about who
he
was. Starting with looking around his boat. I don't know why I didn't see it sooner. That's where I've been going wrong here."

"Oh, is
that
where?"

"Seriously, Seth... please?" she said, smiling extra sweetly. She knew she could do it alone, but she didn't want to. Seth was her partner now, and anyway, it was creepy down by the water at night.

He shook his head again. "No way, that's a terrible idea. We don't even know what we're looking for—-we don't even know
how
to break into his boat. Oh, and on a side note, it's against the law."

"We won't get caught," Billy protested, hoping that was true. Besides, it seemed that lawmen in Churchill were perpetually on vacation or out fishing.

"Anyway, what are we gonna find that'll point to Ted's killer? I mean, I know Deputy Trellis is kind of a dumb shit, but he must've at least checked out the boat."

"Yeah, but it was just mindless procedure to close the case—he didn't even know what to look for."

"And we do?"

"At least we have a lead. We know Ted was dating someone. Please, Seth? I'm not talking about damaging property or anything. But maybe... I don't know, if the boat is really this dilapidated old wreck, I'm thinking maybe it won't be that hard to get onto. It might not even be locked." She touched his shoulder, and despite the tingling electricity that traveled up her arm, she didn't let go, but squeezed him gently. "Please?"

Seth looked intently back at her, and finally released a sigh. Billy was looking at him with those beautiful blue eyes, searching his face, and there was a crackle there—an excitement—he could tell she liked this investigating... even though, when it came to the two of them, it was like the blind leading the blind.

But it wasn't like he had anything better to do.

Okay, that wasn't it. Really, he liked spending time with Billy... and he hoped she liked spending time with him, too. "Come on," she coaxed, tugging on his sleeve; his eyes dropped to where her hand clutched his shirt, and her palm slid off.

His eyes shot back up, meeting her expectant gaze. He wished she'd touch him again, and with more than her hand. "Okay," he finally said. "But no damaging property."

"Agreed."

"And if anyone comes, you run. I don't want you getting in trouble."

With wonder touching her smile, Billy said, "But what about you? If someone comes, I'm not gonna run off and forget about you."

"Don't worry about me. I have a way with the people in this town." She giggled, and Seth shook his head with exasperation. "Come on, let's go," he said, leaving a twenty on the table and sliding out of the booth. "Could you cancel that order?" he called to Leah on their way out the door.

As they left the Rusty Canoe behind, Seth felt an odd sense of ease, despite the crime they were about to commit, and despite how much he still ached to make love to Billy. There was just something about her. She was a calming, comforting presence, but an electric jolt of excitement, all at the same time. That was Billy... a sweet little spark of fire.

Chapter 18

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Seth whispered as thunder banged and cracked loudly overhead. By the time they'd left the Rusty Canoe, it had gone from drizzling to pouring-down rain, and violent bursts of light blazed through the black sky. "If you get struck by lightning, I'll never forgive myself."

"Don't worry; you're taller," Billy said glibly. "You'll be struck first."

"Yeah, thanks."

Billy grinned at him and scanned the marina to make sure no one was watching them as they broke onto Ted Schneider's boat—the SS
Drifter.
"Don't worry; this'll be fun," she whispered, and snapped on the flashlight they'd taken from Seth's glove compartment. Raindrops pummeled her face and plastered her hair to her head as she looked up at him. Gently Seth reached over to move a clump of wet hair out of her eyes. He kept his hand poised there for a moment before dropping it.

"Fine, since we're here," he said, grinning, "but your idea of fun needs work."

Seth went first, climbing up onto the deck of the boat and then holding out his hand to help Billy up. Just as she put her foot on the floorboards, a sonic boom of thunder hit. With a yelp she squeezed his hand and jumped forward. "Don't be scared," Seth said comfortingly, over wind and rain.

"Okay," Billy said. "I mean—I'm not."

"You know, we can still forget this whole thing and go home. It's pretty damn crazy, anyway. I mean, of all places during a thunderstorm, the ocean? Not smart."

"I know, but if we hurry, we'll be all right," Billy said. "We'll just take a quick look, and get the hell out of here, okay? I promise." Normally, fear of electrocution would be enough to keep her away, but she was too curious to turn back now. Not to mention that she had a vested personal interest in seeing this through.

Using the flashlight, they found the door that led to the main cabin, but it was sealed with a heavy padlock. "Locked," Seth said, turning back to Billy. Accidentally she shone the flashlight in his face, and he held his hand up to block the light. "Hey, put that down."

"Oh, sorry! Hmm. Well, let's break one of those windows," she suggested, motioning to the three glass portholes along the side of the cabin.

Tilting his head, he said, "We agreed—no damaging property."

"Oh, right... well, what about the lock? Can you break that?" Before Seth could be a goody-goody about that one, too, she said, "Come on, a rusty old lock doesn't constitute 'property.' "

"Okay, let me just find something," he said, taking the flashlight from her and shining it around until he found a thick iron shard lying on the deck. He bent to pick it up, then returned the flashlight to Billy, who was just taking it all in as rain beat her back and thunder shook her nerves. "Get back," he called.

Then he banged hard on the lock. Once, twice, three times, and it gave. Old and rusty, just like Ted's favorite bar—perfect. "You did it!" Billy said excitedly as Seth pulled the remnants of the shattered lock off of the latch and led the way into the cabin.

The interior of Ted's boat was the calm
during
the storm. Rattling thunder seemed far less ominous, and flashes of lightning were less daunting through small porthole windows.

"So where should we start?" Seth asked, plowing his fingers through his wet hair.

"I-I'm not sure," Billy replied through chattering teeth. Suddenly she became acutely aware of her sopping-wet blue jeans, which clung to her body, and her drenched, battered jacket that looked dark green instead of light. "I guess we should just look around and see if we can find something that will point us in the direction of Ted's girlfriend. Let's just hope there's something here that gives us a clue who she is." Along the wall was a long, deep shelf that held various supplies. Rope, first-aid kit, pocket knife, and—

"Fabulous!" Billy snatched a flashlight off the shelf. She flipped it on and flooded the space between she and Seth with even more light. "Here," she said, handing Ted's flashlight to Seth. "We can split up."

"Okay," he said, "but be careful."

As Seth looked around the main room, Billy ducked down another step to the blackened bedroom quarters. It was a bit claustrophobic, with a double bed that barely fit, and not much space to walk around. The mattress was thin, the sheets were rumpled, and the room smelled like a cross between halibut and mildew—or maybe halibut
with
mildew—but she was hardly an expert on fishy stenches.

Ted's girlfriend—whoever she was—had been a good sport to go along with these accommodations.

Rain thumped rhythmically on the metallic roof of the boat, and thunder rumbled through the sky. "Have you found anything?" Billy called out as she reached over to the shelf beside Ted's bed and picked up a small leather-covered box. Then she sat down on the bed, hearing the springs squeak and snap.

"Just some fishing gear," Seth called back, "some hooch... a hunting magazine..."

"Oh, God!" Billy yelped, and tossed the box onto the bed the moment she realized its contents. A shudder ran through her, and Seth called out to her.

"Are you all right? What did you find?" he asked, coming to her.

"Hold me!" Billy said in a tinny little voice, coiling her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek into the wetness of his chest.

"What happened, sweetheart?" he asked gently.

"Nails," she mumbled.

"Huh?"

Inhaling a sharp breath, Billy said, "Apparently Ted kept his clipped finger and toenails in a box by his bed. And I
touched
them!"

With relief, Seth laughed. "Oh, man, you really had me worried for a second." He tightened his arms around her, and Billy couldn't resist snuggling into him for a few moments. "Hey, what's that?" he said suddenly, pulling out of her embrace and walking past her, toward the bed.

Billy turned and saw that the flashlight she'd carelessly tossed on the bed was casting light directly on a book. Seth reached over to pick it up and read the title aloud:
"Puss in Boots."

His eyebrows quirked in silent question, and Billy shrugged. She leaned down to grab the flashlight, then held it over the book as Seth flipped it open. There was a yellow Post-it note stuck to the first page, with feminine handwriting scrawled across it.
Meet me at TRC at nine-thirty,
Billy read, thinking that TRC obviously stood for the Rusty Canoe. Then it clicked. "His girlfriend—oh, of course!"

Suddenly a loud crack of thunder, like an oak tree splitting down the middle, shattered the air and shook the boat. Billy jumped, and Seth plowed his hands through his hair. "Jesus."

"Oh, my God, we've gotta go," she said hurriedly, retracing their steps to the deck. "We've gotta get out of here before lightning strikes the boat!"

Grinning in spite of the storm, Seth followed her and murmured, "
Now
she says that."

* * *

Once they got inside Seth's house, fat drops of rain were sluicing down off their bodies and from their hair. Billy couldn't bear to ruin the beautiful hardwood floors, so she stayed frozen in place—literally—shivering her butt off. A blast of thunder sounded then, only a reminder that the storm was still in full effect, and that she had a hellish commute back to Brookline waiting for her. The next train didn't leave for another forty-five minutes, though, so there was really no hurry.

"Okay, first things first," Seth said, absently ruffling some of his wet hair. His jaw was a little bit scruffy, and his cheeks were ruddy from the rain, which brought out the green in his hazel eyes. "We need to warm you up."

Billy tried to say, "And to warm you up too," but her teeth were chattering.

"I'll get you a towel and some dry clothes," Seth said. "You can change in the bathroom right there." He pointed down the entry hall, and Billy managed a jerky nod. Tilting his head, he studied her, as though he wished he could do more. "Sweetheart, your lips are kind of purple. Oh, Jesus," he said, leaning over to hug her, and then he must've remembered that they weren't boyfriend and girlfriend anymore, because he quickly pulled back. "Uh, let me get that stuff for you."

As Billy trotted across the foyer she felt guilty about the puddles left in her wake. Once inside the bathroom she stripped naked, and felt much warmer without her clothes on. Her nakedness made her feel a little vulnerable as she waited for Seth. Finally she heard a knock on the door.

"Okay," she said, and cracked the door enough to reach through and grab the clothes he was offering. "Thanks!"

"Sure," he replied through the door. "Listen, I'm gonna have a drink to warm me up. Do you want something?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. Whatever you're having is fine."

She heard Seth disappear down the hall, and then looked back at her reflection in the mirror. God, she was really standing there in Seth's house, buck-naked, and it had been a crazy night, but now that it was settling down, an amorous, exciting sensation seeped into her body and filled her bones. Hot wetness pooled between her legs, and a heavy kind of fullness stimulated her breasts.

Speaking of her breasts... Almost unthinkingly Billy ran her palms over the naked tips, and felt them ripen against her hands to aching hardness. She slid her eyes closed for barely a second, just fantasizing about Seth touching her there... and everywhere... of Seth bursting into the bathroom, pushing her up against the sink, and having sex with her right there.

Abruptly, then, she snapped herself out of this train of thought.

Enough fantasizing—it's not getting you anywhere.

And she had to stop thinking about the fact that he'd called her "sweetheart" a few moments ago, and the gentle rasp of his voice when he'd said it.

She finished drying off, and slipped into the clothes Seth had given her. They were soft sweatpants, fresh wool socks, an old T-shirt, and a heavy sweatshirt. And they all smelled like him. Not even attempting to fix her hair, which was a straggle-plastered, dark-cherry mess, Billy left the bathroom and found Seth in the family room.

He'd changed into blue jeans and a sweatshirt, and had started a fire in the fireplace. "Your wine's on the table," he said as Billy came in. He was bent down, moving logs around with the poker, and Billy found her gaze zeroing in on his butt. (Well, she did have
eyes,
after all.)

She bit her lip, staring at his perfectly hard, rounded ass and the muscular line of his legs beneath his pants. Now, this was a time when a wolf whistle was actually called for.

"Thanks," Billy said, taking her wine and sinking down onto the cushy, warm sofa. When the fire got going, Seth moved the screen back in place, picked up his wineglass, and moved closer to her.

"It's so perfect here," Billy blurted, relaxing into the upholstery, feeling instantly soothed by the Shiraz.