Chapter 59
Ialways like to keep my promises.
We stumbled into my stateroom, locked at the lips. Her lips felt good. With hands all over each other, it didn't take long to start peeling off articles of clothing. By the time we hit the bed, we were in our birthday suits.
We tumbled around the sheets and wrecked the mattress.
Heart beats pumping, bodies slick with sweat, we hammered out the finer points of a life worth living.
Kara may have been out of the woods, but she didn't hold anything back. Neither did I. We made enough noise that I’m sure everyone on the boat knew exactly what we were up to.
When all was said and done, we collapsed beside each other, out of breath and exhilarated.
Kara cuddled close, stroking my chest. She whispered in my ear, "Now that's something to live for.”
I couldn't disagree.
"Don't you wish we'd done that sooner?”
I didn't disagree with that either.
"What are you going to do with your second chance?” I asked.
"Hopefully, a lot more of that."
"Good answer.”
She sighed. "I don't know. I think I'm done with contract work. There has to be something more to life than moving from one dirty job to the next. Maybe I'll take some time to disappear into the shadows, travel the world, find myself again.”
"It's a new lease on life," I said.
She smiled. "It is. And I owe it all to you." She planted a soft kiss on my cheek.
Maybe her file was wrong. Maybe she wasn't emotionally closed off. Maybe she wasn’t a sociopath.
I passed out with Kara in my arms, in a state of heady bliss—a swirl of whiskey and pleasure chemicals.
I slept like a baby.
…Until my phone buzzed on the nightstand around 3:00 AM. I reached a sleepy hand for it, held the device to my ear, and scratched out, "Hello?"
"I'm sorry to call so late. But I need your help?”
"Vanessa?"
"I know it's late, but I didn't know who else to call,” she said, her voice tense with adrenaline. "And I didn't want to call the department before talking to you."
"What's going on?”
“I killed somebody." She swallowed hard, her mouth dry.
She had my full attention.
I felt around the bed for Kara, but the sheets were empty. I figured she might have gone to the head or was down in the galley scrounging up some late-night rations.
Vanessa continued. "Somebody broke into the house. I shot one of them. The other got away.”
"Are you sure he's dead?"
"Well, she wasn’t breathing last time I checked.”
“She?”
"You can see for yourself when you get here."
"Where are you?"
"I’m at my father's place. There were some things I needed to take care of, going through papers and such. I decided to go ahead and spend the night here.”
"Sit tight. I'll be right there.”
"Are you going to call the department, or should I?"
"I want to take a look at this first. Don't touch anything.”
"Gotcha."
I ended the call, wiped the sleep from my eyes, and pulled myself out of bed.
Kara's clothes were no longer on the deck.
I flipped on the light and found a note on the pillow.
It read: I've never been much on goodbyes. I had fun. Maybe too much fun. That kind of thing can be habit-forming. I probably shouldn’t get addicted right now.
Thanks for everything. I owe you one. Maybe I'll be able to pay you back someday.
In the meantime, I'll be on my journey of self-discovery. XOXO.
Ruby red lipstick stained the bottom of the page. A last kiss goodbye.
I had to admit, I was a little sad to see her go. The vixen had grown on me.
I pulled on my clothes, grabbed my pistol, and hustled down to the main deck. I didn't bother to roust JD out of bed.
The boat was quiet. Buddy stirred on the couch, but didn't seem too interested in moving. I grabbed my helmet and gloves, then hustled down the dock to my sportbike. I was still on administrative leave, but I wasn't going to sit this one out.
I straddled the bike, cranked up the engine, and pulled on my helmet. I rolled out of the lot and zipped over to Stingray Bay. It was a nice night for a ride, and there was barely anyone on the road.
I kept thinking about Kara and where she might have gone. I would need to get those thoughts out of my mind. I didn't think she was coming back anytime soon. If she were smart, she'd walk far away from this life and never look back.
I pulled into Stingray Bay and twisted through the streets of the posh neighborhood and parked at the curb in front of the Wentworth estate. I pulled off my helmet, threw my gloves inside, and left it hanging from the handlebars. I hustled up the walkway to the front door.
Vanessa waited for me. She looked like she’d guzzled a pot of coffee—her eyes wide, her hand still jittery. She gripped the pistol tightly.
"Thanks for coming.”
I stepped inside with my weapon drawn and cleared the foyer.
The assailant lay on the imported marble tile at the base of the grand staircase.
From the blood splatter, it was clear that the perp had been shot a few steps up and tumbled back down.
Vanessa had put two shots center mass into the woman.
“Nice aim,” I said.
“Thank you.”
The perp wore tight black yoga pants, black sneakers, a black long-sleeve fitted top, and a black balaclava. Her long raven hair hung below the mask to her mid-back.
I approached, knelt beside the body, and checked vitals.