Sarah Woods Mystery Series (1-6) Boxed Set (42 page)

Two weeks later

My separation from Daniel had gone more smoothly than expected. He was shocked when I offered to move out so he could stay in the house. He hadn’t spent much time trying to change my mind.

I found a small apartment close to my office: a two-bedroom unit in an old Victorian house. It was perfect, with high ceilings, large windows, and a massive stone fireplace that took up most of the living room. I imagined drinking wine in front of the fire on cold winter nights. Brian loved it, too. He had lofty plans to turn his bedroom into a music studio.

The place was still empty as I finished painting the walls. Paint cans, brushes, and masking tape littered the floors. I swept everything to the side and washed up in the sink. Max was due to arrive any minute with pizza and beer.

I hadn’t seen him since Hawaii. During the past few weeks, I’d been busy trying to find an apartment. I figured Max was busy trying to make his own decisions about his move to Chicago.

The three loud knocks caused my heartbeat to escalate. I opened the door to find Max standing with a large pizza box in one hand, a six-pack in the other. The smile on his face said it all. He was happy to see me.

“
Welcome to my humble abode,” I said, allowing him to enter. “I’m sorry all I have to offer is a blanket for us to sit on.”

He set the items down on the floor and took a look around. “Nice digs. I’m sure it’ll look amazing when you’re done decorating.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on my lips.

We sat on the blanket and ate the pizza with our hands. Max opened a beer and handed it to me.

“
So,” I said, “what’s the verdict on Chicago?”

Max smiled, took a sip of beer, and set it down. “Impatient, aren’t we?”

I nodded.

“
I’ve decided not to move to Chicago. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

I tossed the slice of pizza on the floor and threw myself into his lap. I wrapped my arms around him. “That makes me very happy.”

He laughed and kissed my nose. “I can tell.”

“
So what will you do for a job?”

“
I don’t have a long term plan yet, but I’ve been making some calls I have an opportunity to do a job for someone, but it requires some travel. I’d be away for a few weeks. The income will be worth it.”

“
That’s wonderful,” I said.

“
But I was thinking I could use an assistant on this job. Would you be interested?” He reached into his back pocket and handed me an envelope.

I opened it. Inside was a round trip ticket with my name on it. Boston to Paris. “You’re kidding me. We’re going to Paris?”

“
The job is actually in Bourges, but I figured we could spend a few nights in Paris before we start.”

My eyes became misty. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“
Just say--- oui oui mon amour.”

The end.

Continue reading for Book 4

A Taste of sin

A Taste of Sin

Jennifer L. Jennings

Chapter 1

Thursday, October 3

6:45 pm

Breaking and entering is illegal. However, if you’re going to pull off such a stunt, preparation is crucial, back up highly recommended, and proper tools a must. For instance a sturdy set of bump keys are invaluable if you haven’t yet mastered the art of lock picking.

Even if you’ve taken all eventualities into consideration and there is a plan in place—well, you get the point.

The house belonged to Gavin Cole, a thirty-six year old sex offender recently arrested for raping a fifteen-year-old girl. I’d only seen his face once via a mug shot taken weeks prior. His lawyer ended up getting him a plea deal---Gavin never spent a day in jail---but that didn’t mean he’d learned his lesson.

His latest victim was one Danielle Washburn, a twenty-six year old bartender. She’d hired us to recover some sex tapes Gavin likely intended to sell to the highest bidder.

The first thing I noticed when I entered the house was the smell of pot and stale alcohol. The place was pitch black. I carried a small flashlight---it provided just enough light to guide me. The place was obviously a party house. I imagined Gavin hosting porn nights and playing raunchy home movies—maybe his own—on the huge flat-screen. As I passed through the living room en route to the kitchen I made a mental note of pot paraphernalia and empty bottles of liquor scattered about the place. Gavin was a slob with expensive taste in alcohol.

I continued down a hallway, noting a bathroom to my left, then turned and looked through the doorway to my right. A queen-size mattress was pushed up against the far wall. A desk with a laptop and printer sat on the opposite side.

File boxes, CDs, notebooks, and writing utensils were strewn about the makeshift office. I got on my hands and knees, placed the butt of the flashlight between my teeth, and searched through the debris. After checking each file folder and several cardboard boxes I found the tapes in a large bubble-pack envelope. There were names written in red ink on each one: Danielle, Karen, and Jennifer. All three went in my bag. My next order of business was the laptop computer. It was nothing special, a no-name brand likely purchased at Wal-Mart. I unplugged the unit and stuffed it in my bag.

I slung the backpack over my shoulder, prepared to make a quick exit, when my cell phone vibrated in my back pocket. My stomach muscles contracted as I read the text.

Exit the house right now. He’s about to walk in the front door.

I saw headlights pull into the driveway. I headed toward the window to get a better look. A silhouette emerged from the car and ran up to the front door. The faint sound of keys jingling in the lock made my stomach queasy.

This individual would be in the house within a few seconds.

With little time to think, I ducked behind the bedroom door, flattening myself against the wall just as the front door opened. I felt the vibration of heavy footsteps inside of the house. Clanging sounds preceded the distinct whir of an electric can opener and a microwave oven. The smell of baked beans filled the air. I heard the evening news on the television.

My hands were sweating inside latex gloves as I formulated an exit strategy. Maybe Gavin had taken his meal to the living room. If so, I could slip past him and escape through the back door.

I took a deep breath, reached into my bag, and clasped my fingers around the pepper spray canister. When I peeked around the doorframe to the living room, he was on the couch, facing the opposite direction and laughing at something the news anchor had said. I could only see the back of his balding head as I stepped cautiously toward the back door.

The volume was turned up so loud I figured he wouldn’t hear the sound of the door as it opened.

It was risky, but I pulled it off.

Once outside, I closed the door behind me and let my eyes adjust to the dark when the sound of a growling dog got my undivided attention.

I had completely forgotten about his dog.

I scanned the backyard. My heart sank as the reality of my situation set in---I was trapped by a seven-foot high chain-link fence.

I searched the ground around my feet for a bone, a stick, anything to divert his attention. I spied an empty beer bottle inches away and threw it across the lawn. “Here boy, go fetch.”

The dog went after it.

I went for the fence. I jumped up and grabbed the links, struggling to find footing. My shoes kept sliding down until I was left dangling like a slab of meat in a slaughterhouse.

I heard the jangling of the dog’s collar. He was coming after me.

Despite my lack of upper body strength, I somehow managed to hoist myself up, but my feet were still too close to the ground.

Gritting my teeth to prevent a scream, I felt the sharp teeth penetrate my ankle as my arms strained against the weight of my body. I kicked my legs, trying to find footing. I felt a rush of adrenaline and pulled myself up and over the fence.

I looked around at the neighboring properties. It didn’t appear as though anyone had witnessed my great escape. I hobbled back to Carter’s vehicle, parked just a few blocks away.

“
What the hell happened to you?” Carter eyed me with trepidation.

“
I should probably get a tetanus
[V31] 
shot as soon as possible.”

“
Shit, you met Cujo.”

“
Appropriate name for
that
monster.”

“
Are you okay?”

“
I’ll survive.”

Carter ran a hand through his thick, grey hair. “This was supposed to be an easy job. Gavin was scheduled to work all night.”

“
Must have been slow at the bar.”

“
Do you think he saw you?” he asked me.

“
No. I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear his dog either. The television was cranked up.”

“
So, you got the stuff?”

“
Told you I could do it.”

Carter gave me one of his lopsided grins, unzipped my backpack, and peered inside. “Nice job. Where’d you find them?”

“
They were in his bedroom, inside of a bubble mailer. Apparently, he was getting ready to send them to someone.”

“
So, I guess we should get you to a hospital.”

I pulled my pant leg up to assess the injury. Three puncture wounds were oozing blood. “No big deal.”

“
Max is gonna kill me when he see’s your ankle.”

“
Well, you certainly couldn’t have pulled this off yourself right after your knee surgery.”

“
Still, you got hurt. And I’m responsible for you.”

“
Nothing a few Band-Aids won’t cure.”

Carter started the engine and gave me another apologetic look. “So, off to the emergency room?”

“
I guess so.”

Chapter 2

We arrived at the ER less than ten minutes later.

“
Okay if I come back in a while?” Carter asked. “I’m going to deliver the goods to Danielle.”

“
That’s fine. I could be here for several hours. I’ll just call you when they’re done with me.”

I exited the car and made my way into the lobby.

The receptionist gave me a clipboard with a stack of papers to sign, and told me to take a seat in the waiting area.

I filled out the forms and gave them to the receptionist. As I returned to my seat, I noticed a handsome man walking in. He was about six feet tall, with a great physique and short hair. He had a white towel wrapped around his finger. I made eye contact and smiled.

“
Excuse me,” he said. “Do you have any idea how long the wait might be?”

“
Shouldn’t be long. The receptionist told me about twenty minutes.”

“
Thanks. I should be able to hold out till then.”

“
What happened to your finger?” I asked.

“
Just a small accident with a paring knife. Go figure. Just got back from a tour in Afghanistan without a single wound, only to return home and injure myself peeling a mango.”

“
Sure, blame it on the fruit.”

He laughed.

“
On a serious note, thank you for your service to our country, and welcome home. What branch of the armed forces do you serve in?”

“
Air Force,” he said. “I retired last month.”

“
Are you a pilot?”

He paused. “Yeah. Only problem is, now that I’m home I can’t find a decent job to save my life. You know anyone looking to hire a pilot with mad fruit cutting skills?”

I smiled and looked away, wondering if this guy was flirting with me.

“
So,” he said, looking down at my ankle. “What happened to you?”

“
Dog bite,” I replied.

“
Really? You got attacked?”

“
I was playing around with a friend’s dog. He got excited.”

“
What breed?”

“
Just a mutt.”

He gave me a quizzical smile that made me uncomfortable. I was thankful when the nurse called out my name. I stood up. “Well, looks like it’s my turn. I’ll put in a good word for you. Maybe they’ll bump you to the top of the waiting list.”

He smiled. “Thanks for looking out for me, Sarah Woods.”

I paused, wondering how he knew my name, then remembered the nurse had just called it out. He didn’t offer his name, so I simply waved goodbye.

* * *

An hour later, I returned to find Carter waiting. He looked up from his magazine. “How’s the ankle?”

“
Fine. How long have you been here?”

“
Few minutes.”

“
Let’s go. I hate hospitals.”

I glanced around the lobby one last time as I followed Carter out the sliding glass doors. The ex-pilot was no longer there.

“
Danielle seemed impressed when I spoke of your harrowing mission. She wanted me to thank you.”

“
It still irks me that Gavin is free to abuse more women. Someone like him should be in jail, not throwing parties for his perverted friends.”

“
I couldn’t agree more.”

Carter drove me back to my apartment, a Victorian style duplex just minutes from historic downtown Bridgeport, New Hampshire. I’d been renting the place since my divorce had been finalized a year prior. After having been married for over twenty years, I was living alone again. My son Brian was away at college, living in Boston.

Carter stopped the car in front of my place and handed me an envelope. “Payment for another job well done.”

“
Thanks,” I said, noticing that the envelope was thicker than usual. “Did I get a raise or something?”

“
I included a little extra in there for hospital bills.”

“
You didn’t need to do that. I have excellent insurance.”

“
Then take Max out for a nice dinner, on me.”

“
Okay, thank you. I guess I’ll just wait to hear from you then.”

“
Works for me.”