Laid Out and Candle Lit (19 page)

BOOK: Laid Out and Candle Lit
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She quickly took his face in her hands and covered it with short kisses, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she whispered.
Ridge started to laugh. “Well, that’s a first.”
She sat up. “What’s a first?”
“The first time I’ve ever had a woman thank me for sex and I gotta tell you, I’m feeling pretty damn thankful myself right now.”
She smiled down at him, her eyes full of light. “It was a first for me, too.”
He rolled to face her, propping his arm under his head. “A first for what?”
She gazed dreamily into space and whispered. “I’ve never had an orgasm during actual intercourse before.”
He gasped. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“My God. You mean all the years you and Boone were together, you . . .”

She finished his sentence. “Never had one. I mean, I can have one other ways. But, with you, I had one.” A wide smile spread across her face. “Damn, you’re good.You’re like a sex god.”

He laughed. “A sex god . . . hmmm, I like it.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “You think about me a hundred times a day . . . huh?”

“At least,” she said, snuggled into him, closed her eyes, and let man and mattress swallow her up.

 

* * * * *

 

Tizzy woke with a smile on her face thinking back to their night of love making. It had been powerful, erotic, carnal, yet sweet and intimate.

She eased out of bed and into the bathroom. When she finished her shower, she toweled off, slipped on a silky robe, and made her way to the kitchen. She took a bowl from the cabinet, poured in cereal and piled on whipped cream. The sack on the counter got her attention. She peered down at all the cameras from the party and the shirt Ridge wore when he arrived. She set the bowl down, lifted the shirt out, and pressed it to her nose inhaling his scent.

From behind, he slid his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, are you sniffing my clothes?” he teased.

Pale and gasping, she spun around and shoved the shirt hard against him. “It smells like a woman. Oh my God! I am such an idiot! When something seems too good to be true, it usually is. That’s what you were. You were too good to be true. What am I, Ridge? A fling? The other woman? A one night stand? Because if that’s what I am, I’m sorry. I can’t be that. I
won’t
be that,” she said, her face hardening, her lips trembling.

Ridge pitched the shirt onto the table and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you done?”

Her stomach knotted. She braced herself. He’d played her for a fool and the sad part was she’d let him. She looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes. “Yes, I’m done. Clearly, you got what you came for. You can leave now.”

He took hold of her shoulders, held her firmly, and spoke quickly. “Tizzy. Look at me. It’s not what you think. She lives in the apartment across from me. A few months ago, I hooked up with her. I hadn’t seen her since I started this case. Yesterday when I was leaving, she showed up. She kissed me. She hugged me. She was interested. I wasn’t. I told her I’d met someone.”

Tizzy took a deep breath. “Do you love her?”

He shook his head and hard lines formed in his forehead. “No, God no. You’re not listening. It was just sex. That’s all. I never led her to believe it would ever be anything more. You wanna know what you are to me? From the minute you curled those sassy lips around the two words,
Trooper Cooper,
you’re all I’ve thought about. You’re all I’ve wanted. You’re not a one night stand. You have me, all of me. Top to bottom, front to back, inside out.”

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

R
idge wiped a towel across the bathroom mirror, ran his finger over the bite mark, and smiled. She’d sunk her teeth into the fleshy part of his shoulder to swallow up her scream, one of pure pleasure. If he continued to keep pace with Tizzy, he wouldn’t need to worry about solving the case—he’d be dead by the end of the week.

For the last two days, he’d pushed the results of the autopsy report to the back of his mind, but now he had to face the facts. He walked into the dining room, picked up a marker, and stepped to the crime board. Under Tizzy’s name, he wrote
insulin overdose/volunteers at clinic.
His stomach churned.

 

* * * * *

 

Carl Weston and Leah Trammell were sharing a late lunch in the conference room when Ridge arrived at the bank. He had the receptionist notify them he wanted to speak to each of them privately.

Leah emerged first and invited him into her office. “How can I help you today, Officer Cooper?”

“I had a few things I wanted to clear up with you. During our initial meeting, you lied to me about Carl having an affair, when in fact, he’s having one with you.”

Leah leaned back in her chair. “I didn’t lie to you,” she said, her voice smug. “I told the truth. Marlene knew about Carl and me.”

Leah leaned forward, clasped her hands, her demeanor confident and her voice steady. “I should probably clear up one more thing. The reason Carl didn’t know Marlene was gone all night was because he was with me.”

Ridge mirrored her body language, and added some steel to his voice. “Tell me, Miss Trammell. Does Carl know about Kyle Richmond?”

The question caught her off guard and that’s what he wanted, something to bring her down a notch of two. He couldn’t help but think how she and Richmond were alike. Cocky.

“What about Kyle Richmond?”
“Marlene was having an affair with him.”
A gasp escaped her hot pink lips. “Really?”

“I’m assuming your answer is no. He didn’t have any idea, did he?” Ridge relaxed and leaned back in his chair. Now
he
was feeling cocky. He took a deep breath before proceeding, enjoying the moment. “They’d been carrying on for years. Perhaps Carl found out and didn’t approve. With her out of the way, he’d get the bank, the insurance money and you. Now, do you still say he stayed all night with you?”

Ridge noticed Leah lace her fingers together so tightly that her nails dug into her skin. Hell, she
hated
Marlene. He’d be willing to bet she was already picking out the dress and booking the honeymoon.

“Look, it wouldn’t have mattered to Carl if Marlene had been sleeping with every man in town. The marriage served as a sham, a front, for show only. They didn’t love each other. They never did. My statement is the same. He was with me all night.”

“What time did he get to your house?”

“Sometime between eight-thirty and nine and didn’t leave until around seven the next morning.”

“I hope Carl will corroborate your story. In my opinion, the two of you stand to gain the most from Marlene’s death.” Ridge narrowed his eyes and locked them on hers. “You were sentenced to always be the
other woman,
never the bank president’s wife. You’d always be his secretary unless Marlene was out of the picture.”

Ridge held his gaze. Leah’s rosy cheeks faded to pale white. “With her out of the way, you’d have smooth sailing. You’d wait a little while, you didn’t mind. You’d already been waiting for years. Once enough time passed, you and Carl would be married. You’d move up the social ladder and into the big house. . . . Sounds like a motive to me.”

“Think what you want. Carl will confirm we spent the night together. So, Officer Cooper, seems Carl and I both have alibis,” she said, color returning to her cheeks. “Now, do you have any other questions?”

“One more. Are you or anyone in your family diabetic?”
Leah swallowed hard and darted her eyes away for a moment. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Marlene died from an overdose of insulin, so whoever killed her had access to the drug.”

 

A smile spread across Leah’s lips. “I can think of one person with plenty of access to insulin. Tizzy volunteers at the clinic. You should be asking her about that.”

Ignoring the question, Ridge stuck his notepad in his shirt pocket. When he got to the door, he looked back at Leah. “Don’t leave town.”

On the outside, Ridge’s demeanor remained calm, but inside he was popping champagne and shooting off fireworks. He had a feeling about Leah Trammell, and it wasn’t good.

Carl Weston was on the phone, but motioned for Ridge to come in and take a seat. He quickly ended the call and greeted him. “How’s the investigation going, Cooper? I hope you have some news for me.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Weston, I don’t. But I’m making progress. I’m going be as direct as I can. I know you’re having an affair with Miss Trammell. Did you know about Marlene and Kyle Richmond?”

Carl rocked back and forth in his chair. “Yes, I did. My wife . . . how can I put this? Let’s just say, it took a lot to satisfy her.”

Ridge read something in his hesitation. “You sound as if you have first-hand knowledge about that. I thought the two of you were married in name only. Am I wrong?”

“You’re being direct with me, so I’ll return the favor. I didn’t love Marlene. I love Leah. But Marlene could be very convincing when she wanted sex, and believe me, she wanted sex a lot.”

Ridge studied Carl’s body language as he shifted in his seat, picked up a pen and began to doodle.

“She’d meet Kyle a couple of times a month in Dallas. The rest of the time, she had sex with me. That’s for your ears only. Understand? Like I said before, I love Leah. But when you’ve got a woman doing certain things to you, your thinking becomes a little cloudy about whom you love at that particular moment.”

Carl put the pen down, adjusted his tie, and shifted his shoulders again. “Leah doesn’t know, and I don’t want her to.”

“So you had sex with Marlene on a regular basis?”

“C’mon now, Cooper, don’t tell me you’ve never had sex with a woman strictly for sex. You didn’t love her and never would. Hell, you might not even like her much, but you still had sex with her. What I’m trying to say is it wasn’t
torture
. That woman could do things with her body and her mouth . . .” His voice trailed off. “Well, you get my drift. Did I feel guilty about it? Hell yeah, but then again, she
was
my wife.”

Carl chuckled. “She believed an
orgasm a day keeps the doctor away.
I think she told me Mae West said that. If she hadn’t been murdered and continued to live by that motto, there’s no doubt she would have been the oldest living woman in the world.”

“Do you want to stick with your original statement about being home the night of the murder?” Ridge asked.
Carl shook his head. “No. I lied about that and I’m sorry. I spent the night at Leah’s.”
“Tell me, Carl. Was it your idea or Leah’s to lie?”

“Look, Cooper, we . . . Leah and I hoped you would solve this thing before we had to admit to an affair. We were wrong to lie. But admitting it would have put more suspicion on us and since she and I knew we had nothing to do with Marlene’s death, we decided to keep quiet until push came to shove, so to speak.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Your idea or Leah’s?”
“I . . . she . . . we . . . I don’t remember. We both agreed.”
“What time did you go to her house?”
“Sometime between eight-thirty and nine o’clock and didn’t leave until around seven the next morning.”

Ridge rubbed the back of his neck trying to smooth the hairs down. Leah and Carl were lying. They used the exact same wording, as if scripted, to answer the question about the time Carl arrived and left Leah’s house. When suspects furnished phony alibis for each other, they are prone to give identical statements. He had to plant some doubt.

“Is anyone in your family diabetic?” Ridge asked.

“No. Why?”

“Marlene died from an overdose of insulin.” Ridge watched Carl pick up his pen and start to doodle again. Closing his notebook, Ridge stood and turned to leave, but stopped at the door. “Oh, one more thing, are you
absolutely
sure Leah had no idea about your sexual relationship with Marlene?”

Ridge could see the wheels turning in Carl’s head.

Carl started to answer, hesitated, pulled his brows together in deep thought, and slowly wagged his head. “I don’t think there’s any possible way. No one did, except for Marlene and me.” He narrowed his eyes even tighter, still considering the possibility. “No . . . absolutely not. There’s just no way.”

Ridge sat in his car and mentally organized his thoughts: Leah gets tired of being the other woman. She discovers Carl is having sex with Marlene. Motive plus motive. But, then there was the alibi. He hoped the doubt he’d planted in Carl’s mind would be enough.

He took a deep breath.
Today had been a good day.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

 

T
izzy’s body floated up, then down as dense black fog surrounded her. A light in the distance compelled her to come closer. She tried to move but each time the mist held her back and left her suspended, hovering in place.
Where was she?
Her brain tried to process. Her eyes scanned the surroundings. Something moved toward her. She focused on the shape.
Oh God . . .

Tizzy pitched forward from the dream. The scream which caught in the back of her throat sounded more like a cat trying to cough up a hair ball. She clamped her hands to her ears.

Ridge came to life and grabbed his gun. “What’s wrong?”

She brought her knees to her chest, fell back on the bed in a fetal position, and looked at the clock. Two a.m. “A bad dream,” she said, choking back tears. She tried to clear her mind of the ghostly image of Marlene, gaunt, hollow eyed, outstretched arms moving toward her, repeating
whore, whore, whore.
A jumble of voices, joined in, started as a whisper, built to a roar, like a freight train picking up speed . . .
ranger, ranger, whore, ranger, whore . . .
.

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