Getting Some (19 page)

A mangled cry escapes from my throat. “H-how could this have happened?” I hated Rusty for what he did to me, but the thought of him being dead after being very much alive with me last night…“He was fine last night…He—”

“You were with him last night?” Annelise sounds mortified.

“Part of the night, yeah,” I answer somewhat cautiously, my eyes narrowing as I look at her.

“But not the whole night?” she presses.

“I told you on the phone I was with someone who turned into an asshole.”

“Why not?”

“I feel like I’m on trial here, Annie.”

“You tell me Rusty became an asshole. Now his brains are splattered on the pool deck. And now you’re with someone else? You think I don’t want to know what happened?”

I hesitate for a moment. “I’d had every intention of spending the night with Rusty, but he became a first-class jerk.” Over the next few minutes, I fill Annelise in on all that happened.

She groans. “Oh, sis.”

“I’m fine,” I tell her. And then an awful thought hits me, hits me so hard I inhale sharply. “Fuck, I wonder if he felt guilty for being with me. The way he talked about his late wife…He’d been so in love with her. And maybe what happened with his friend was a bad idea that simply went too far.” I exhale a shaky breath.

“If he jumped…Well, he chose his fate.”

“Annelise!”

“It’s true.”

“I’ve never known you to be so cold.”

“There’s a bigger concern here, Sammy. If he didn’t jump…Think about it. He and his friend were out of line with you. If he was murdered, don’t you see that you’d be a suspect?”

My sister’s words settle over me heavily. “I never even considered that.”

“Does anyone know you were with him?”

“No. Yes! His friend, Peter. But if Peter was in the room with him, he would know if Rusty jumped.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Oh my God. If Peter wasn’t in the room…He knows how pissed I was. What if he mentions me to the cops?”

“That’s exactly my concern—that you might get implicated in this. And you should know that one of the bartenders told a reporter that he saw Rusty last night with a big-busted blonde. Sure, that could be half the population in Las Vegas…”

I grip my stomach. “I can’t be involved in this.”

“You’re obviously being a bit secretive about this, but since you weren’t with Rusty last night, who
were
you with?”

“Reed,” I answer.

“Reed?”
My sister’s eyes bulge.

“I know. Total shocker. Maxine must have told him where I was and—”

“And what? I thought you were over him? You said he ruined everything in Costa Rica.”

“I know what I said, but maybe…” My words stop. I think about Rusty. How I let my guard down with him and he turned out to be a jerk. “Maybe I was wrong,” I finish.

“Never doubt your instincts,” Annelise tells me. “And all I’ve ever heard you say about this Reed character is that you can’t trust him.”

“My instincts told me Rusty was a nice guy. Someone who’d lost his wife and wanted to reconnect with a woman. And I was wrong.”

“That has nothing to do with Reed.”

“You know,” I begin defensively, “I can see you dismissing his trip to see me in Costa Rica. But he came here, too, Annie. After how ugly things got when I ended our relationship, he didn’t have to, but he did. That tells me a lot.”

“That tells me he likes a challenge,” Annelise mutters.

“Don’t.” Anger starts to bubble inside me, but I know it’s not Annelise I’m really pissed with. I’m pissed with the situation. Still, I press on. “Don’t lecture me, okay? I need you to be my sister. I need you to fucking support my decision.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt again,” she tells me. “And Reed—I’m sorry, but I don’t like him.”

“Because he runs a strip club instead of pushes papers all day?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I know you never liked me stripping, and I’m not stupid enough to believe you’d accept any of my friends from that world.”

“You think that’s what this is about?”

“I’m leaving,” I tell her, ignoring her question. “I’m packing my stuff now and heading back to Atlanta with Reed.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, I’m not. We’re heading back to Atlanta tonight.”

“Samera, Samera,” Annelise says pitifully. “That’s exactly what Reed did in Costa Rica. Show up and demand that you leave with him on
his
schedule.”

“For God’s sake!” I lash out. “Can’t you listen to me without making judgments? Reed didn’t demand anything. In fact, he doesn’t even know I’ve made the decision to leave with him.”

Annelise is quiet for a moment. “And our trip?” she finally asks.

But her question is now the farthest thing from my mind. Because a photo of Rusty has just flashed on the screen.

“Turn the volume up,” I say anxiously.

“…thirty-four-year-old Rusty Nickell. We have now learned that he did leave a suicide note, and there are unconfirmed reports that Mr. Nickell lost a very large amount of money while playing poker at the Venetian’s casino. No one from the Venetian would comment on the allegation, but according to a friend of the deceased, he was not in debt and would not have killed himself. Las Vegas police say that they’re looking into all angles and that the death of Rusty Nickell is still under investigation.”

All angles.
I snatch the remote control from my sister and turn the television off. I’ve heard enough. “I need to get the fuck out of here. Before the police find out I was with Rusty and want to question me.”

“You think they will? Now that they’ve found a suicide note, it’s pretty clear—”

“What’s clear? One minute you were freaking out that I’d been with Rusty. Telling me how some bartender told the media he’d spotted Rusty with some blonde. You even said that I could be considered a suspect. Now you think everything’s fine and dandy?” My harsh words affect Annelise, cut her like a knife, if the expression on her face is any indication. I jump to my feet. “I’m leaving with Reed.”

“All right.” My sister slowly rises. “You’re a big girl. I can’t tell you what to do. And maybe it’s for the best that you leave. To be on the safe side.”

“I’m sorry.” My shoulders sag, the fight gone out of me. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…spooked. Creeped out. A guy I slept with last night is
dead
. And what if the suicide note is fake, and what if the cops detain me for questioning?” The possibility of the nightmare flashes in my mind. “This is all so surreal.”

“I know.”

No, Annelise doesn’t know. She can’t know what I’m going through. That I’m scared to death right now.

And not just because of the possibility that I could be a suspect should Rusty’s death be deemed a murder.

But scared by the thought that maybe, just maybe, he jumped because of me.

Claudia

W
hen my bedside phone rings, I answer it right away. “Hello?” I say, my voice deliberately deep and sexy. I’m hoping it’s Arnold, even though he left here only four hours ago.

“Wait a second,” comes the reply. “I’m not sure I have the right number.”

“Lishelle?”

“Yeah, that’d be me. One of your two best friends in the world, remember? Or are you distracted by some guy’s face between your thighs?”

“Not anymore,” I answer, and completely expect the high-pitched squeal that comes next.

“I’m coming over,” she says. Then I hear the dial tone.

I hop off the bed and race to the door. I open it before Lishelle has a chance to knock.

“Hey, you.” I grin from ear to ear.

Lishelle strolls into my suite. “Finally, girl. You got laid!”

“I did,” I reply in a sing-song voice. “In fact, when the phone rang, I thought it was him calling.”

“It went that well?” Lishelle sounds pleased.

“Oh, yeah. And Lishelle, it was
exactly
what I needed.”

“No guilt?” she asks as she sits on a bar stool.

“None.” I shake my head. “It’s weird. I know I’ll never see him again—not after this trip anyway. And I don’t feel dirty. I don’t think I’m a slut. I’m a woman who needed to get laid, and I did. End of story.”

“There you go.”

“And it was really hot. Completely uninhibited sex.”

“You go, girl!”

I climb onto a bar stool beside Lishelle. “Arnold was a total stranger, and yet I felt far worse about some of the things I did with Adam. And I loved Adam.”

“Because you didn’t
want
to go to a swinger’s club. Adam did. You went to please
him
. This you did to please yourself.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “And deep down, I think part of me knew that something was wrong with my relationship with Adam when he suddenly wanted us to get really kinky. But at the time I couldn’t face the truth.”

Lishelle pats my hand. “I’m happy for you. New cock is exactly what you need to get over the old one.”

“And you?” I eye Lishelle suspiciously. “You could be…happier.”

She rolls her eyes. “I could be, yeah. But, I fucked up.”

“How? When I left you, you and Rugged looked pretty cozy.”

“I know. And we went back to his suite. But I guess I didn’t trust him. I kept putting my foot in my mouth, and I offended him.”

I tsk. “Lishelle.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. Especially after he told me that he came to Vegas hoping to find me. Your cousin mentioned we’d be here.”

“That’s right, I mentioned it to him in passing. Wow—Rugged came here just to see you.”

“According to him. I kept testing him, I suppose. Saying stupid things. And then he rejected me.”

“No!”

“Uh-huh. I even tried to make things right, because by that point, I really wanted to fuck him. But he didn’t cave. He told me to leave his suite.”

“Oh, Lishelle.”

“It wasn’t that bad. He was nice about it. And it’s okay. Really. We’re working with him on the fund-raiser. It would have been weird sleeping with him. And hey—at least I got a bit of a fix yesterday morning with my masseur. Don’t be sorry.” She waves off my concern. “Look, now that we’ve caught up on the girl talk, there’s something you should know.”

“Oh?”

“Have you turned on the TV this morning?”

“Are you kidding? After last night…” My voice trails off on a dreamy sigh as I remember all the ways Arnold pleased me last night—over and over.

“Well, something really weird happened,” Lishelle goes on. “Something downright freaky.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Someone died,” she tells me, her face growing serious. “Right here, at the hotel.”

For a moment I’m speechless. Then I say, “You’re kidding.”

She shakes her head. “And it looks like Samera knew him.”

My mouth falls open. “A friend of hers?”

“No, she didn’t know him before this trip. She met him the first day we got here…something like that. Annelise came to see me earlier, worried because Samera hadn’t shown up at all last night. My thought was that Samera’s a grown woman, no big deal. Then when we found out someone died and who it was, Annelise really freaked out. She figured Samera had likely spent the night with this guy.” Lishelle shrugs. “It’s a convoluted story, but that’s the gist of it.”

“No one knows where Samera is?”

“Not as far as I know, but—”

“Why didn’t you tell me this right away?”

“Because obviously she wasn’t with the guy who died. If she was, we would know that already. Or she’d be in police custody, and I’m sure she would have placed a call to her sister.”

I think about that for a minute. “I guess you’re right. Have you heard from Annelise recently?”

“No. But I did watch the news, and this guy apparently committed suicide. Took a plunge from the eleventh floor.”

I shudder. “Brutal.”

“I know. A beautiful place like this? People come here to have fun, to experience some excitement. Who would expect it? From the reports, though, it sounds like he might have lost his shirt at poker. I guess that sent him into depression.”

“Ugh.” I shake my head sadly. “That’s awful.”

“It probably happens more than we know.”

“We should call Annelise,” I say. “See if Samera showed up.”

I hop off my bar stool and head to the phone in the small kitchen area. As my fingers touch the phone, it rings. I snatch up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Claudia.”

“Annelise, hi. Lishelle and I were just talking about you.”

“Can I head over?”

“Sure.”

Less than a minute later, I open the door to let Annelise into the suite. She’s got a glum look on her face, which instantly fills me with alarm.

“Annie…?”

“Sam’s okay,” she begins without preamble. “But she’s leaving today.”

“What?” Lishelle asks, her tone laced with shock. “She’s that upset about the dead guy?”

“No, Reed showed up. She’s going home with him.”

“Reed?” Lishelle and I ask at the same time.

“Yeah,
that
Reed. Her friggin’ ex.” Annelise heads into the living room and drops down onto the sofa.

I follow her. “When the hell did he get here?”

“I don’t know,” Annelise says, “but apparently she was with him last night. And God only knows what she’s thinking. He wants another chance with her.”

“I thought stuff like that only happened in the movies,” I say. “Guys traveling across the country to proclaim their love to you.”

Annelise frowns. “If you ask me, that Reed guy is bad news. For one thing, he’s entirely too possessive. First he showed up in Costa Rica, then left angry when Samera refused to head home with him. Now he shows up in Vegas and cuts our trip short?”

I shrug. “Maybe he really does love her. And he pulled out all the stops to get her attention.”

“I hope so,” Annelise says dryly.

“You don’t sound happy about that,” I say.

“Can you blame her?” Lishelle asks as she sits on the armchair. “What’s with all the grandstanding? Tracking her down in Costa Rica. Now here in Las Vegas. Couldn’t he just wait till she got back to Atlanta?”

“Maybe she called him,” I suggest, thinking of how I’d called Adam time and time again when we’d first broken up. “How else did he know she was here?”

“Someone she worked with at the club told him,” Annelise explains. “Same woman, I think, who told him she was in Costa Rica.”

Lishelle scowls. “Maybe I’m a cynic, but he’s trying too hard. The way Glenn did with me. And it was same-old, same-old. Some guys just like a challenge.”

“That’s what I think,” Annelise says. “But I guess my sister has to figure that out for herself.”

“And what about the guy who died?” Lishelle asks. “Your sister knows what happened?”

“Yeah, she does. And get this—she was with him part of last night, but he turned into a creep. God only knows when she ran into Reed after that.”

“The guy sounds like a stalker,” Lishelle comments.

“Stop being so negative,” I tell her. “It sounds like he really cares about her.”

“When does she leave?” Lishelle asks. “Maybe we can all have lunch before she takes off.”

“She’s already gone,” Annelise tells us.

“Without saying goodbye?” I ask.

“She asked me to tell you both that she enjoyed hanging with you, and that we can get together in Atlanta sometime. This thing with Rusty really spooked her. And of course, Reed influenced her decision to leave.” Annelise groans.

“Hey,” I begin, “Samera’s a big girl. She’s gonna be all right.”

“I don’t know why I’m so worried,” Annelise says. “But I’ve got this weird feeling. Like something’s very wrong.”

“Something like what?” Lishelle asks.

Annelise’s eyes narrow as she shakes her head. “That’s the thing. I don’t know.”

I stare at her for a moment, but I don’t know what to say to put her at ease. So I change the subject.

“Anyone hungry?” I ask. “Because right about now, I could seriously use some lunch.”

“Need to replenish your energy after your marathon night,” Lishelle jokes.

“Hey.” Annelise’s gaze flies to me. “You got some last night?”

“I did.” I take her hand and pull her up from the sofa. “And I’ll tell you all about it over some mimosas and scrambled eggs. Just give me five minutes to get dressed, then we can head downstairs.”

That at least gets a smile out of Annelise. But the smile doesn’t quite mask the worry.