Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries) (23 page)

I had to wonder if Nick still had feelings for the woman who had left him. Had he had closure? He seemed kind of sad about the whole thing. So of course I had to open my big mouth.

“Are you sure you don’t still love her?”

“Hell, no. I don’t think I ever really did. It was just one of those things you do when you’re too young and stupid to know any better. We had great sex and thought it would sustain a marriage. So what’s this about Eddie Pogue?” he asked, all business.

For some reason, I didn’t particularly feel like sharing any more.

“Have you found out anything abou
t Mr. Mooney’s murder?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I’ve got a lot of theories and a lot of suspicions, but so far everything is
leading to a dead end. We still haven’t been able to find your ex and question him. He took off while you and Veronica were distracting the rest of us at the gala. Nobody’s seen him since. Veronica’s still in the hospital, and Girard Dupres had a solid alibi since he was arrested Friday night for hiring a minor to dance at his club. And your pal Robbie Butler was at home all evening as far as the officers I had posted out front could tell.”

“What about John Hyatt?”

“We questioned everyone in Victor Mooney’s neighborhood after he was murdered, including John Hyatt. He and his estate manager were going over guest lists and details for some party that is held at the bank every year for the bigwigs. Loretta Swanson corroborated his story when we finally tracked her down. Neither of them noticed anything suspicious about Mr. Mooney’s behavior.”

“Maybe they’re lying for each other,” I suggested. “John Hyatt has a fiancé, but he seems to spend a lot of time with his estate manager just to have a platonic relationship. And Loretta Swanson doesn’t seem like the type of woman to be platonic. She practically oozes sex.”

“You’ve got that right,” Nick said with a dreamy smile.

I kicked him in the shin and felt better.

“Sheathe your claws, woman. For some reason I’m attracted to accident prone ex-strippers who have a jealous streak.”

“Whatever. I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He smiled but I could see the frustration and worry behind his eyes.

“My gut tells me the two murders are related, but the evidence suggests there are different killers. We’ve got no DNA and so far we haven’t gotten any hits from the fingerprints found on the envelope. You’re the only thing that links both of them, Addison.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying be careful. And let me know if you get any other surprises.”

“I’m not sure I can take any more surprises. My biggest fear at this point is I’ll damage my body even more than it already is. I haven’t been able to make it to my yoga classes in almost two weeks because I’ve been too sore.”

Nick’s eyes glazed over at the mention of my yoga classes, and I could tell he already had grand plans for our upcoming date.

“Do I need to leave you alone with your fantasies?” I asked.

“Nah, you’ll be privy to them soon enough. Just make sure you don’t injure yourself anymore between now and tomorrow. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on my great idea.”

“What great idea is that?”

“The one where we’re both naked and your ankles are up by your ears.”

My insides heated to the temperature of molten lava, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. The picture that Nick painted was awesome in my mind. It was too bad I’d have to disappoint him, because I didn’t think there was any way possible for my ankles to reach my ears with all of my swollen and bruised body parts. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to spend some time soaking in a hot tub though.

I’d fallen asleep as soon as I’d gotten home from seeing Nick, and when I woke up I was running late for the Tupperware party at Rose Marie’s friend’s house.

I jumped
in the shower and tried to tame my hair, but it was still in shock from being chased with a weed whacker. I pulled on the first thing I could find in my closet and barely had time to put on lip gloss and slip on some sandals when I heard the knock at the door.

I glanced at the clock on my way to the door and put a little jog in my step.
My tongue caught in my throat when I opened the door and saw Nick leaning with one arm against the frame and holding a six-pack of Corona in the other. His hair was tousled from a long day at work and the dark stubble on his face was way past a five o’clock shadow. His blue eyes held heat and desire and something I didn’t even want to think about because I knew it would be dangerous.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, you won’t make it to your party tonight and we definitely won’t make it to the restaurant I’ve made reservations at tomorrow night.”

“Oh, man,” I said, licking my lips. That was an impressive threat. One I wasn’t sure I didn’t want to take him up on. 

“Wh
—what are you doing here?” Great. The man had me reduced to a stuttering fool.

“I’m here to watch the game,” he said, backing me slowly into my apartment. He slammed the door shut with his boot, and I gulped in reaction. “It’s the playoffs, you know.”

“Of course I know. I have it set to TiVo. And besides, I’ve already told you I’m going to be out tonight.”

“You like basketball?” he asked, surprised.

“Of course I like basketball. Who doesn’t like basketball?”

“What about baseball? Do you like baseball?”

I gave him a look like he belonged in the special class. “Baseball is king. All other sports dim in comparison.”

“Oh my God. I’m going to have to marry you.”

“Not until you take me to dinner first. What kind of woman do you think I am?”

“One that I want very, very badly,” he said, backing me into the wall. He took my bottom lip between his teeth and bit gently. I moaned in response and tried to think of what it was I was supposed to be doing.

“Wait a minute,” I said pushing him back. “What are you really doing here?”

“Let’s just say I want to be here in case you have any uninvited guests.”

“You could have just asked, you know, instead of trying to muddle me with the whole seduction thing.”

“The seduction thing was just a side benefit for both of us,” he said reaching for me again.

“Oh, no you don’t. I’ve got to get out of here. I’m going to be late.” 

I pushed him back with all my might, with only a small hope that he’d be more persistent in taking things further, that way I could blame him for missing the party.

“Have a good time,” he said, already heading to the living room and flipping the TV on.

All I could do was grab m
y purse and walk out the door. I’d completely forgotten why I was going to tell him he couldn’t be there while I was gone. But I’d sure as hell give him a piece of my mind when I got back and my brain was in working order again.

Much to my surprise, I’d been able to save up a good chunk of money since I started working for Kate, and I hardly felt guilty at all for planning to splurge on the Tupperware. A few more weeks of falling out of trees and being chased with sharp objects and I’d have all the money I needed for the rest of the down payment. Hopefully, I’d still be alive to enjoy the fruits of my labor. 

I pulled in right behind Rose Marie’s bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle and hopped out of the car.
Rose Marie shoehorned her way out of the Beetle, and I was left standing with my mouth hanging open and my eyes on the verge of exploding at the cacophony of colors that came barreling out of the tiny car. 

Rose Marie was wrapped in a swirling sarong of every color in the rainbow and she’d wedged her size eight feet into size six hot pink mules. The fashion gods were probably in a coma. I wished I could join them.

“Wow, Rose Marie. You sure do look—summery,” I said, lamely. I looked down at my own short khaki skirt from The Gap and my white sleeveless top and felt way under dressed.

“Thank you. It’s new,” she said, her face beaming.

We made our way up to the door of the ranch style house. The sun was still bright though it was almost seven o’clock.

“I’m surprised you
actually came tonight,” Rose Marie said out of the blue. “I’ve always thought you seemed kind of prudish. No offense,” she hastened quickly.

I was confused. What did buying Tupperware have to do with being a prude? And, dammit, I’m not a prude. Would a prude dance topless at The Foxy Lady? I think not. I almost broke down and told her about it when I remembered it was probably not a good idea to let that knowledge circulate around town. 

“I’m not a prude,” I said defensively. “And what does that have to do with buying Tupperware?”

Rose Marie gasped. “This isn’t a Tupperware party, Addison.  I thought you would have gone to the web
site on your invitation.”

A ball of dread gathered in the pit of my stomach, and
I asked the only question that mattered. “What kind of party is this?”

“It’s a passion party,” Rose Marie said, her cheeks pink in delight. 

By then it was too late. I couldn’t run screaming to my car. The front door was opened and I was ushered into a spacious living room already crowded with women. Candles were lit and wine and cheese were set out. It didn’t look like a den of iniquity so I went further into the room. I stopped next to Rose Marie as a woman approached us.

“Welcome, ladies,” she said, handing both of us a Q-tip.  “Please go into the restroom and apply this gel to your clits.  As soon as you’re finished, we’ll start the party.”

The woman walked off without another word and I was left standing there alone, my mouth hanging open and my face red as a lobster. 

Rose Marie had already gone into the restroom to apply the gel, and I took a closer look at the little swab that was bound to make for an interesting evening. 

Rose Marie came out of the bathroom, her face flushed pink and excited, so I had no choice but to go in and do the deed. Would people know if I just threw it away? Was there some kind of invisible sign that would tell everyone that I was too chicken to put a little gel on my privates? Well, I wasn’t going to be called a coward in front of a bunch of strangers, so I squenched my eyes closed and got the job done. 

After I finished, I realized I had just put something on my body, and I had absolutely no idea what it was. What if it gave me cancer or made me blind? I didn’t think well under pressure, but obviously I needed to keep my wits about me the rest of the night.

I walked back into the living room, face red because obviously everyone in the room knew exactly what I’d just done.  I could see their knowing glances and hidden smiles. I stiffened my spine, grabbed a large glass of wine off the table, and sat on the sofa next to Rose Marie.

“Isn’t this just great?” she whispered.

“Peachy,” I said, knocking back the whole glass before I lost my nerve and ran out the door. 

“Welcome ladies. My name is Donna Limpkin, and I want to thank my good friend Rose Marie Valentine for bringing so many new faces for me to show my products to.”

Yeah, thanks, Rose Marie.

“You’re all here today to see that passion lies within each and every one of you, and there is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about when discussing the sensuality that
each one of us contains inside—sometimes repressed, sometimes aggressive. Women are marvelous creatures that hold so much power when it comes to sex, and I hope each of you will leave here today a little more knowledgeable, a little more intrigued and a lot more powerful. Let’s get started.”

I wasn’t repressed. I could do anything any of the other women in the room could do, and I bet I could do it better. I took the wine bottle as it was passed around once again and filled up my glass.

I watched Donna Limpkin pull a bottle out of her bag and smirked. With a name like Limpkin she’d better be a hell of a salesman to convince a bunch of women that her products worked.  I was feeling warm and tingly all over and decided I should take it a little slower on the wine.

“This remarkable little gel I hold in my hand is what I had each of you place on your ge
nitalia when you first came in. Enough time has passed that each of you should be able to feel a heated tingling through your bodies, and some of you might even feel slightly aroused.”

I looked around the room in
horror because she was right. I did feel turned on and there wasn’t a man in sight. My body was heating from the inside out and I found I wanted to wiggle around on my seat a little too much. The worst part of it was that I was sitting in a room full of women who were all experiencing the same thing. Why was I the only one who felt this was an awkward situation to be in?

My mind turned into a hazy blur as I consumed more wine, and I watched as the woman pulled an endless amount of toys out of her oversized suitcase—the suitcase of sex as I was starting to refer to it. Handcuffs and feathers, lotions and leather whips, not to mention things that my brain wouldn’t even let me whisper.