Friends and Lovers Trilogy 03 - Seduced (22 page)

She hated herself for asking. Hated that she cared. “For how long?”

“For as long as you need me.”

“I’m going to kick your fucking ass when I see you.” Joe glanced at Sofia to make sure she was still asleep, before taking the conversation outside.

“You can try,” Murphy said, amusement lacing his tone. “Should be fun. So, what’s got your shorts in a bunch this morning? Wait. Let me guess.” He paused, his breath audibly labored. “What did Sofia do now?”

She burrowed her way into my heart
. “She fell for another asshole’s bullshit.” Cell phone pressed to his ear, Joe relaxed against the brick façade of the motel and used his free hand to massage his chest. There wasn’t enough antacid in the world to cure this ache. No suppressing, no denying.

He was in love.

In all brutal honesty, he’d fallen months ago when he’d first seen her on her casino gig, dressed in a glitzy bustier, fishnets, and heels, relaying sarcastic directions to the nickel slots and the all-you-can-eat buffet to an impatient patron. Frickin’ love at first sight.

Knowing and dealing were two different animals. What the hell was he supposed to do with all these
feelings
? A minor in psychology had not prepared him for this mind-bending dilemma. Wasn’t he supposed to be walking on air, quoting Shakespearean sonnets or some romantic shit? Where was the goddamned euphoria? Murphy would know. “
Love warps a man
,” he’d said. That’s why, after an hour of solitary hell, Joe had decided to sneak outside and ring him up. He’d meant to ask his big brother’s advice. Instead, he’d threatened him with an ass-whooping. Hell. “Sounds like I caught you in the middle of something. Dare I ask?”

“Morning run,” Murphy said. “Thought I’d take advantage while everyone’s still asleep.”

“Legrand made it to the inn all right?”

“He showed. There was a scuffle between him and Gallow. Things are tense. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I promised Lulu we’d stay until the waters stilled.”

“Not exactly the relaxing getaway you were anticipating,” Joe said.

“No, but it’s not boring either. So,” he said after a significant pause. “What’s going on? It’s barely five a.m. on the west coast. What are you doing up at this hour?”

“Researching an asshole.” He’d waited until Sofia had fallen asleep and then he’d fired up his laptop and utilized the motel’s wireless Internet. “A movie producer,” he ground out. He needed to talk about this, to work the anger out of his system before Sofia woke up. Murphy could handle whatever he spewed. Better him than a woman who was holding onto her composure by a thread. “She’s blocked out his face and name, but she gave me enough information to narrow the field.”

“You better bring me up to date.”

“You better sit down.”

“Done,” Murphy said. “Let’s have it.”

“There’s still a chunk missing due to Sofia’s amnesia, but here’s the general scenario.” Joe took a deep breath and began to pace. “An influential movie mogul invited her to his home under the pretense of an informal audition for his next movie. Claimed other actors under consideration would be joining them for the weekend.”

“Un-huh.”

“Exactly,” Joe said, acknowledging Murphy’s sarcasm. “After dinner and wine, he invited her into his private screening room to watch a movie.”

“Smooth.”

“Yeah.” Joe ignored a jealous pang, pushed on. “But, they were interrupted before he could make his move.”

“The cowboys?”

“This is where it gets sketchy. She couldn’t say for certain. I’m guessing, yes. Where else would they figure in? So, the producer guy left to greet the guests, intruders, whatever. When he didn’t return, Sofia went to find him.” He massaged the back of his neck, his muscles knotting at the memory of her gasping for air and losing control. “I don’t know what she saw, bro, but it’s bad. Bad enough to incite amnesia and subsequent panic attacks.”

“Hard to imagine a woman who once threatened my balls with a pair of scissors having a panic attack.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not as tough as she pretends. Although if you ever hurt her sister, I’m sure she’ll make good on the threat. She’s got a fierce streak when it comes to friends and family.”

“Admirable trait,” Murphy noted.

Joe agreed, but didn’t comment.

“Sounds like we’re talking about an act of violence. I assume you checked news reports, touched base with your local connections?

“And came up with zilch.”

“Huh.”

Joe could envision his brother, sitting under a tree, slick with sweat from his run, brain buzzing. He’d always enjoyed a good mystery. Probably why he got along with Jake Leeds, another puzzle-solver. “She remembers tussling with the cowboys,” he continued. “She’s got the scrapes and bruises to support an actual struggle. She woke up in a tool shed with a Beretta. The magazine was down three rounds. No prints other than hers. She said she remembers aiming and shooting.”

“At the cowboys?”

“I’m guessing. Although if that’s the case, she missed her mark. If there’s really a connection, then Luc Dupris’s last words suggest they’re alive and hunting Sofia.”

“The Beretta’s not hers, so it has to belong to the producer or one of the cowboys. Since there were no prints, the owner must’ve worn gloves,” Murphy said. “My money’s on one of the cowboys.”

“My thoughts exactly. That would also explain why their prints weren’t found in Sofia’s apartment. That’s if they
were
in her apartment.”

“I assume this movie mogul’s rich.”

Joe grunted. “Paradise Valley. We’re talking million dollar homes.”

“Did Sofia say if she heard knocking? A doorbell?”

“No. Just that her host announced that they had company.”

“A silent alarm, maybe.”

Joe shrugged. “Possibly. Maybe they were there to rob the house. Or to shake the guy down. Maybe he owed them money. Drugs. Loan sharking. Who knows?” He’d seen it all.

“And Sofia walked in on whatever went down.”

The probability made him sick. “Here’s another thing. The film they were watching was
Spellbound
. Sofia’s a fan of Hitchcock. She’s probably seen that movie a few times.”

“Refresh my memory.”

“Gregory Peck played a guy who witnessed something traumatic, then blocked it out.”

“Right. I remember,” Murphy said, voice grim. “Sounds like reality imitating fiction.”

“A weird-ass parallel,” Joe confirmed.

“Huh.” His brother blew out a breath. “So, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Joe jammed his hand in his pants pocket, stared at a crack in the asphalt, experienced a crack in his composure. “Yeah. Although I don’t have proof that any of this happened, my gut says it did. I’m thinking the movie bastard’s dead. Can’t say I’m sorry. I wonder how many other women that smooth-talking fuck lured into his bed with promises of fame?”

Silence greeted his snarled outburst.

Joe worked his jaw. “What?”

“You tell me.”

He shook his head, paced two steps, and stopped. “Goddammit.”

“That bad, huh?”

Well, hey, okay, what the hell? Isn’t this why he’d called his brother in the first place. “I love her, Murph.”

“I know. I saw it in your eyes months ago.”

“Thanks for cluing me in.”

“Where love is concerned, a man’s gotta come around on his own.”

Joe sighed. “It’s kicking my ass.”

Murphy laughed softly. “It’ll do that. So, where is she now?”

“Sleeping. She’s wiped out. I’ll be surprised if she wakes before noon.”

“I guess you’re going to Paradise Valley.”

Joe frowned. “I have to help her face whatever happened. I don’t want to involve the authorities until I know exactly what we’re dealing with. Right now, I don’t know what’s real or imagined.”

“Understood. That’s why I’m not sharing any of this with Lulu. As far as she knows, you and Sofia are having a torrid affair, period. Speaking of, according to the morning talk shows you two are shacked up somewhere in Arizona. If those cowboys really are on the hunt, then the media pointed them straight in your direction.”

A muscle jumped under Joe’s left eye. “Let them come.”

“Right.” Murphy whistled low. “You’re in the mood to kick some ass.”

Rainbow Ridge, Vermont

L
et me get this straight,” Jean-Pierre said. “You are telling me Hollyberry Inn is haunted?”

Rudy propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at his bedmate. Even though they hadn’t made love last night, he felt incredibly close to his partner this sunny morning. Continued honesty, he’d thought upon wakening next to the man, was a good way to start the day. Instead of jumping in headfirst and declaring his love and intentions, he decided to ease his way in via Casper the-not-so-friendly ghost. “I know it sounds crazy. That’s why I didn’t tell you over the phone.”

“Ah,
oui
. It sounds magnificent, this story of Casper Montegue. But, I prefer dealing with a ghost rather than a … a … ”

Rudy stared down at Jean-Pierre, hoping the Frenchman recognized the affection burning in his heart and eyes. “You’re the only man in my life, Jean-Pierre.” Normally, he would have followed up that statement with a caress, a kiss—but he didn’t want to risk rejection. He needed a sign or, even better, a verbal go ahead.

Jean-Pierre scratched his whiskered jaw, poked his tongue in his cheek. “What of Jake?”

Rudy smirked. “You know what I mean.”

The corners of the younger man’s lips twitched upward.

The smile was weak, but there, and instilled Rudy with hope. Hope that they were on the road to complete recovery and a blissful future.

“Do you think Jake is angry with me?”

“For punching him in the nuts?” Rudy grinned. With the heat of the moment behind them, he was able to find humor in last night’s brawl. He didn’t even mind that he had a shiner, a badge of black and blue fury that showed JP cared. Jake on the other hand … “I don’t know about angry, but you might not want to ask him any favors for awhile.”

“Perhaps a gift would help to make amends?”

Rudy shrugged. “He’s not like that, but there is a fabulous antique barn not too far from here. You know how he feels about antiques.”

“Perhaps a sugar and creamer to augment his demi-tasse cup and saucer collection.”

“Maybe. Or else …”

A scream rent the air, propelling both men into a sitting position.

“
Merde
,” Jean-Pierre exclaimed, a hand pressed to his chest.

Another shrill shriek had Rudy throwing aside the patchwork comforter and scrambling out of the crocheted-canopy bed. Foregoing his robe, he raced out of the door in his striped boxers, sailed down the hall, and nearly collided with Jake—also in his shorts. The P.I. shoved through the door of Murphy’s assigned suite and then into private bathroom, Rudy on his heels, Jean-Pierre close behind.

The scene that greeted them was straight out of a Farrelly brothers’ movie. The men froze in shock.

A buck-naked Lulu danced around in the bathtub, squealing while struggling to reaffix the showerhead. In the chaos, she’d knocked aside the shower curtain. Water sprayed everywhere soaking the walls, the bath mat, the guest towels …

Rudy palmed his forehead. “What the …”

Lulu jerked around, screamed at the sight of the three men, and quickly gave them her back. “Get out! Get out!” Realizing she was showing them her bare butt, she squealed louder, dropped the shower head, and slapped her palms to her cheeks. Yeah. Like that was going to help.

Jake recovered first. He snatched an oversized bath towel and slung it around her body, heaved her out of the tub, and into Rudy’s arms. “Dammit,” he said, struggling with the chrome lever. “The faucet’s broken.”

“I know,” Lulu yelled. “Why do you think I was fussing with the showerhead?”

“Beats the hell out of me!” Jake shouted. “Christ, this water’s freezing.” Soaked to the bone, he continued to wrestle with the outdated plumbing.

Rudy passed Lulu off to Jean-Pierre, barely containing a bout of laughter. “Let me try.” He shouldered his way in, twisted, pushed, pulled, and somehow managed to cut off the water. Then again, he’d been wrestling with faulty plumbing and wiring for weeks. Thanks to the century-old property and a meddlesome ghost.

“You are shivering,
Chaton
.” Jean-Pierre briskly rubbed his hands over Lulu’s bare arms.

“The hot water cut out,” she said through chattering teeth. “I thought someone flushed a toilet in another bathroom, so I tried to adjust the showerhead away from me, you know, just until the hot water returned, but it broke. The showerhead,” she clarified, staring at her toes, the sink, anything, Rudy thought, other than the three half-naked men surrounding her.

Jake snagged a towel from the rack and mopped his face and hair. “Why the hell didn’t you just get out of the tub?”

“I did, but then the water was … I thought I should … ” Her lower lip trembled.

Uh-oh, Rudy thought. “Um, honey. Where’s Murphy?”

Lulu wiggled out of Jean-Pierre’s arms, shoved her wet ringlets off of her stricken face. “Jogging.”