Aphrodisiac (33 page)

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Authors: Alicia Street,Roy Street

BOOK: Aphrodisiac
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We heard the sound of feet jogging toward us.

“Should we run for it, Bin?”

“Nowhere to go. He’ll just pick us off.”

His shadow came first. I looked up. The same tall man who held me at gunpoint on that dark road in East Hampton stood over us now. I huddled close to Benita, trembling.

“Who wants to go first, girls?” He asked casually, then aimed point blank at my head.

“Good-bye, Bin,” I whispered. “I love you, my priceless buddy.”


Te amo, mi amiga
,” she answered, making the sign of the cross.

A crack split the air. Then two more in rapid succession. Our rangy executioner collapsed into a lifeless heap.

I turned to see who fired. Eldridge Mace. Looking like he’d crawled straight through hell. Propped up against the Hummer, he held the gun of the man Benita had shot.

Five police cars and an ambulance rolled up. An officer opened his door and hid behind it with his gun pointed at Eldridge. “Drop the gun, put your hands on your head and lie flat.”

Oh no. I couldn’t let the justice system screw Mace over again. I sprang to my feet, shouting, “Officer, this man just saved our lives!”

Eldridge dropped the gun. His broken leg gave way, and he fell as gracefully as he had that first day I saw him.

While the EMT’s loaded Benita, Eldridge and the hefty thug into the ambulance, I led three uniforms inside the house. We were greeted by a delicate tenor voice coming from the large study: “
Doooo I love you because you’re beeeauuu-tifulllll
…”

Shaking his head, a good-looking officer turned to me, his eyebrows raised in a question. “Don’t ask me what
he’s
high on.”

I shrugged. “Got me.”

Walsh Plunkett’s romantic serenade to me continued as the police led him from his study, out of the house and into the back seat of the patrol car.

While giving my statement to the handsome officer, I noticed that he’d stopped writing and was staring at me. I saw that familiar dazed expression in his eyes. He stepped closer and said, “You are the most…”

Uh-oh. I was outta there.

THIRTY-ONE

Squinting my eyes into the bright noontime sun, Benita and I stood at the front railing of the Tide Muse as it chugged through New York Harbor and up the East River. My friend Sean Kennedy, the tugboat’s captain, didn’t know the real reason I asked him for this little joyride. I had decided to make an offering to two goddesses of love, Inanna and Oshun.

A week had passed since our sleuthing adventure. Curtis Bardarson, once a living nightmare, was now merely the stuff of legends, like most well-hung monsters. Gilbert Fleeger had finally come out of his lovesick stupor just in time to cop a plea. And it looked like Walsh Plunkett wouldn’t be baking any more donuts. Unless, of course, they needed some extra help in the kitchen upriver where he could whip up a few courses of Chub Dubs for the gang in orange jumpsuits.

I still felt guilty about all the people I’d prematurely put the finger on for Gwen’s murder, even the lecherous and power-hungry Kyle Drummond.

As to Professor Schumacher, I doubt he even knew Gwen lifted that special tablet from his illegal horde. He was merely trying to create a sexual empowerment elixir for Capricia. Too bad neither of them had any idea I’d been right under their noses wearing the real thing. They were too busy spanking each other.

I was pleased that Darryl Applebee wasn’t Chub Dubs. But he was still a cranky bore. He offered no appreciation or apologies to me after finding out his sister had indeed been murdered. However, he did ask again if I wanted to buy her old exercise bike.

And Lady Viv was enjoying a taste of Internet stardom now that her threesome sex tape had mysteriously found its way online.

Tim, the nose, was on the mend. And, even though the Plunkett brigade was out of commission, the perfumer agreed with my decision concerning the tablet.

Let’s not forget Alan Grossman. After I left a message on his voice mail apologizing for my rude behavior, he called me back. I was relieved to hear he was on his way to Europe for a month-long shoot. I needed time to decide if I wanted to date a man who wanted me primarily for cozy comic relief.

Then there was Eldridge Mace. Dear Eldridge. I went to visit him in the hospital when he was laid up in with his broken leg. Each time there were at least two gorgeous women at his bedside, making me feel rather superfluous. So why do I keep going back for more? Simple. I’m not the kind of person who abandons a friend—especially one who risked his life to save mine.

Benita stood next to me, her arm in a sling. It would be quite a while before she’d do any sparring again. “You ready for this?”

I nodded silently and reached into my bag, pulling out the remaining bottles of Gwen’s perfume. I took off the caps one at a time and poured every drop into the river. Say good-bye to all that was left of Heaven’s Daughter, Gwen’s magnificent obsession.

“It’s the right decision, sweetie,” Benita said.

“And not an easy one.” After my encounters with Forever Our Right, aka the big dick club, fulfilling Gwen’s plan to deal a crippling blow to the world of men with her perfume was tempting. Except I knew most men didn’t deserve that. Of course, my decision meant relinquishing the power to make any guy see me as knockout beautiful, a power I’d always dreamed of having. But the hardest part was denying the request my childhood pal had communicated to me in her final poem.

Yesterday I’d gone back to Brooklyn Botanic Garden and had a long talk with Gwen’s memory. I thought about the two of us and the many years we’d spent at each other’s side. The munchkin and the scarecrow. Childhood buddies dodging snowballs. Awkward fourteen-year-olds writing puzzle poems about our deepest secrets. College girls becoming women in the big city. I pictured a teenage Gwen, the class geek with overbite and thick glasses, the girl I’d stuck up for when things got rough.

There in Brooklyn Botanic Garden I knelt on the ground and whispered to my departed friend how Benita and I had gone to bat for her against her killers. And with the help of her creation, Heaven’s Daughter, we came through. Then I told Gwen I’d make sure no one would ever get their hands on her precious ancient tablet of Inanna. And somehow I knew she understood that this was my way of protecting her one last time. Before leaving, I poured a few drops of the perfume on that spot in between the beech and oak where a mass of bluebells were in bloom last spring. Where the tablet lay at rest.

And where it will stay. Forever.

Benita put her good arm across my shoulders, bringing me back to the present. “Sorry I’m letting you eat alone again tonight.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad you’re seeing Fippy. In fact, I’m beginning to think I might lose a roommate.”

“No way, Saylor. The jury’s still out on Mr. Weintraub. Besides, now that we’ve proven what a dynamic sleuth team we are, who knows where our services might be needed next?”

Oh no.

Just then my phone rang. It was Eldridge. The one thing that made me regret dumping the perfume. “Hi, Eldridge. Getting by okay?” I knew it was his first day out of the hospital.

“Still hobbling. Can’t get around the city too well now.”

“Anything I can do for you? Something you need?”

“Yeah. You.”

My breath caught. Did he mean…“Me?”

“Come spend the night with me. I’ll order takeout. Or does that sound too dull for someone who goes chasing after killers?”

“No, Eldridge. That sounds just perfect.”

“Miss you, Saylor.”

Maybe I don’t need that perfume after all.

About the Authors

In addition to being part of today’s Indie author movement, Alicia and Roy are also traditionally published. In 2009 they received a Daphne Du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense. They both share backgrounds in the performing arts. Alicia spent years as a dancer, choreographer and teacher. Roy in theater and standup comedy. Alicia is a chronic reader of every genre including the classics. She also loves old black-and-white movies, making organic soups from recipes she invents, working out and, of course, dancing. Roy’s into sweaty workouts, too, as well as watching boxing on HBO and eating Alicia’s organic soups. Their cat’s name is Wallace, an orange ten-pounder who’s crazy over pizza. He and Roy do slices every Friday night.

“…a husband and wife writing team that has managed to capture the best in both men’s and women’s fiction…”

—Romance Junkies

"This sexy, exciting race against time is a gripping, fun read that is hard to put down.“

—Bookreporter.com

"…an enthralling book I simply could not put down…”

—Manic Reader

“… Saylor Oz is one character not to be missed.”

—Romance Reviews Today

Stop in and talk with us on our blog:

http://aliciastreet-roystreet.com/

Friend us on Facebook:

www.facebook.com/AliciaRoyStreet

Tweet with us on Twitter: @AliciaStreet1 @RoyStreet4

Read another adventure for Saylor and Benita in

BABYDOLL

Available in print and ebook from Berkley-Penguin


Babydoll
is a fast, fun read with great characters and action that never stops.”

—New York Times bestselling author Karen Robards

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