A Tangled Truth (Stonewall Investigations Book 3) Page 16

Liam leaned out from the bed and grabbed my leg. I still hadn’t gotten a chance to put on jeans, so his fingers dug into raw thigh. He pulled me on top of him so I was straddling him. He liked to sleep with boxers on, unlike me, and was currently pitching a tent with them. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I know I said I wasn’t going to go to the festival, but… I changed my mind. I got us a private jet to take us to Palm Springs, and we’re staying at one of my favorite places ever. It’s literal paradise on earth.”

  He leaned up and kissed me, smiling. I was shocked as I kissed him back.

  “What? When did you…?”

  “Last night, when you were in the bathroom. I thought you were leaving in the afternoon, though, so I booked us for a seven-o’clock flight. I was going have a driver take us to the jet instead. Surprise.”

  I kissed him, hard. “You little bastard.”

  “I knew you’d put up a fight about getting spoiled.”

  “I’m going to put up a fight all right,” I said, growling and sliding a hand between us, underneath the band of his boxers, my fingers feeling the heat radiating off his hard cock.

  We stayed in bed pretty much that entire day until we had to grab our suitcases and go.

  One of the perks of getting a private jet and having drive-on access for the airport meant not having to deal with the long airport lines that had previously haunted my nightmares. We checked in and drove up to the plane, where the stairs had been let down for us and a flight attendant was waiting at the top. She was cheery as she helped us in, getting us settled and offering us champagne before takeoff. We each said yes and got our glasses a few moments later.

  The interior of the plane was definitely luxury. There was room for probably about fifteen people before things got crowded. The seats were very comfortable, all tan leather and cushioned like they had been stuffed with the clouds themselves. I sat in one seat while Liam sat across from me, both of the chairs turned to face each other, a table in between.

  “This is crazy,” I said, looking around. There were mahogany accents and a Bose sound system, along with a few beautiful flat-screen TVs.

  Liam grabbed his champagne glass and lifted it. “Cheers, Marky Mark. To a bright past and a brighter future.”

  “Cheers,” I said, clinking the glasses and holding the eye contact. We chugged the rest of the champagne and buckled in for takeoff. A short time later, we were thirty-five thousand feet above the ground, laughing about the time Liam and I had started a company reselling Pixy Stix at a quarter each when we were freshmen in high school.

  “We were like drug dealers,” Liam said, laughing. “People would come up to us during lunch with bugged-out eyes, looking for their sugar fix.”

  “We were bad. We called ourselves Pixie Inc., right?”

  “Mhmm.” Liam shook his head. “And how long did it take for us to realize we were gay?”

  I cracked up at that and looked out the window. “Wait, what you call me?” I puffed up my chest and overplayed my aggression. It was Liam’s turn to crack up. We kept laughing like that for a while, until our abs felt like they were gonna split in half. We were about ten minutes out from landing when the conversation took a more serious turn.

  “So,” Liam said as the pilot came on over the intercom to let us know we were approaching our destination. “About Johnny. Do you think Gina has anything to take him down?”

  I’d been wanting to bring him up for hours now, especially after the email I’d received earlier in the day, but I didn’t want to put a damper on Liam’s mood, so I waited. “It depends. I’m hopeful, yeah. But I really won’t know until I sit down across from her and hear her story.”

  “I mean, if she has a picture of that search history, that’s case closed, right?”

  “Not really. He can always say the picture’s been doctored, or maybe he’d say that wasn’t his laptop. He could say Gina planted that website there herself to try and get leverage for a role. Lots of different ways it can play out.”

  Liam looked a little deflated at that. “You’ve obviously thought this out.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it nonstop.” I cracked my knuckles and chewed on some gum. The latter wasn’t doing much to stop my ears from popping. “I got an email before we took off, Liam. It had the toxicology reports from both of his ex-wives.”

  Liam almost shot out of his chair at that, and it wasn’t because of the rough turbulence. “What do they say? Why have you been holding this back?”

  “I was going to tell you when we landed and got settled in. Both of the women had off-the-chart levels of carbon monoxide, obviously. But there was something else that jumped out at me. Something both of the reports have in common and no one seemed to follow up on. Both Kristine and Pamela had a high blood-alcohol level, which isn’t totally uncommon in suicides. What is uncommon is the presence of a chemical called hydroxybutanoic acid. It’s naturally occurring in the body, but it is also known as GHB, the date-rape drug. It’s especially potent when mixed with alcohol. In both women, GHB was slightly elevated. Not to levels high enough suggesting they were drugged, but still slightly higher than usual.”

  Liam sighed. “But not high enough to raise any red flags?”

  “The thing with GHB is that it has an incredibly short half-life. The body metabolizes it quick.”

  “So by the time Kristine and Pamela were being tested…”

  “The drug was already almost out of their system. Especially if whoever gave it to them dosed it just right.”

  Liam put a hand to his mouth. “So Johnny drugged them, sat them in the car, turned it on, and closed the door. That’s probably why both women weren’t reported missing for almost an entire day. He was waiting for the drug to wear off.”

  “I still can’t pin a name to it, but yeah, I’m leaning toward your theory.”

  “I mean if Gina Cromwell’s photo shows an order for this GHB thing, then that right there has got to mean something. She couldn’t have gone in and doctored the toxicology reports, too.”

  “You’re right. Hopefully the photo can back up this theory. I’m also still chasing down the NYPD so that they give me the one suicide note that was left behind. That could show us something else.”

  “Holy fucking shit.” He had both his hands running through his hair. “I knew it. This goes so much deeper than that email. This monster killed his wives. We’ve got to put him behind bars, Mark. You have to figure this out.”

  I could see the fire growing in his eyes. He was feeling the same electricity I always felt whenever I was getting close to closing a case. It was one of the reasons why I loved being a detective—the thrill that took over when all the pieces started to fit together and the bigger picture began to fall into focus.

  “We’re getting close,” I assured him as the wheels touched down and we bounced in our seats.

  “I know you can figure it out, Marky Mark.” He was looking out the window as the airplane drove down the runway toward our drop-off point. “I’ve always believed in you.”

  23 Liam Wolfe

  Coming to Palm Springs during a film festival that had revoked my invitation wasn’t exactly the smartest idea I’d ever had. As we drove through the streets lined by giraffe-like palm trees and beautiful modern homes, I started to wonder if I had made a mistake. As much as I wanted to be close to Mark, I was also being reminded of what had been taken away from me. It had been a few days now since I got the news I was off the film, and it still hurt like a motherfucker. Directing was my passion, and I really had no idea if I was going to be able to get back behind a camera anytime soon.

  I reached across the gap between us and held Mark’s hand. As we started getting closer to the house, I began spotting more advertisements for the festival, signs that hung off lampposts and posters that had been placed up on bus stops. It was the middle of the night, but the streets weren’t as empty as I thought they’d be. The Palm Film Festival was a big deal for the city and drew in a ton of in
dustry people from all around the world, so it was no surprise there would be plenty of ads and decorations setting this weekend apart from all the rest.

  The house we were staying at was only a street away from Downtown, which was where all the action would be. The driver pulled up to the gate and put in the password, driving through as the big black gates swung open. Mark looked out the window as we drove up, his jaw dropping.

  “This is where we’re staying?” he asked.

  “Yup.” I leaned over and looked out his window. We were driving up a brick driveway, surrounded by beautiful desert-friendly landscaping. There were huge succulents and flowering cacti planted in a sea of smooth rocks and spotlighted by nearby lights, all leading up to a stunning two-floor desert oasis hideaway. The house was mostly all white with black trimmings and was a mix of modern and historical with some adobe flair added in the way the roof and entryway were rounded. “Wait until you see the infinity pool.”

  “We’re going to have to come back here when I’m not working so we can really enjoy it.”

  “I’d love that,” I said, smiling as the driver pulled up. “You know something I was thinking about?” We got out of the car and got our luggage from the trunk.

  “Huh?” Mark asked.

  “How crazy it is that we’ve always been about one degree of separation from finding each other. Me being close with Griffin, who’s dating another Stonewall detective.”

  “It is crazy. Like life didn’t ever want to completely separate us.” Mark’s face cracked in that way it did when he realized something. “Griffin and Alex only recently got together though, so it wasn’t always just one degree.” Mark walked over to my side, a smile on his handsome, freshly shaved face. “But you’re right, it’s still batshit crazy.” We both chuckled and I looked into his eyes and almost drowned in them. His words brought me back to the surface. “Life brought us together at exactly the right time. I’m sure of that.”

  “Me too,” I said, feeling my chest expand with a powerful love. “I love you,” I said, kissing him.

  “I love you too, Liam.” We kissed again before turning toward the house, hand in hand. The entryway to the house was covered in potted plants in brightly colored ceramic pots, making it feel like an actual oasis as we walked in. The inside of the house was just as impressive as the outside, with big wide-open spaces and beautiful sculptures. There were colorful rugs and furniture. But it wasn’t the navy blue velvet couch or the golden rhino painting that captured the immediate attention. No, your eyes were instantly drawn to the two sliding glass doors that led out to the backyard, which was basically heaven on earth. The house was on a small hill, so it appeared as though we were higher than we actually were, but all you saw was a stunning pool with an infinity edge and a constantly changing display of lights shining from under the water. There were royal palm trees surrounding it, and a stone waterfall spilled down into the deep end of the pool.

  “How often do you come out here?” Mark asked, looking around, those sexy eyes of his wide as he took it all in. He was looking so damn cute in a pair of light-blue shorts that showed off plenty of his thick thighs and a white T-shirt that was half-tucked into the shorts. He looked like a goddamn film star. I could have shot an entire feature right here with just him, and I was sure the audience would be enraptured for the entire time. Mark just had that kind of charisma. I could listen to him tell me the same story a hundred times over and I’d never get bored.

  “I try to make it out a few times a year. Depends. Since it’s on the way to LA, it makes a nice little pit stop between traveling for work.”

  “I bet,” he said. “Jeez, that pool.” He was by the glass doors now. I walked up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I put my chin on his shoulder and took in his scent. He was wearing the Chanel I had got him, which he still didn’t know how much it was worth. I forbade him from ever looking up the price tag, because I knew if he did, he would literally blow a gasket. But I wanted to spoil him, and if that meant dropping a grand on cologne, then fuck it. Mark deserved that and more.

  Plus, it smelled reaaaally fucking good.

  “Let’s go for a swim,” I said, nibbling on Mark’s earlobe.

  He chuckled and squirmed, rubbing his ass on me in the process. “Let’s do it,” he said, spinning around so he was facing me now. I was pleasantly surprised by how hard Mark was already. I grinned and went in for a kiss, biting on Mark’s bottom lip as he pulled away. “Let me run to the bathroom real quick. Which way is it?”

  “Sure, just down that hall, second door on the right.”

  Mark kissed me again and went in the direction I had pointed. I smiled and rubbed my lips. Nope, coming to Palm Springs wasn’t a mistake at all. Sure, it stung knowing that I wouldn’t be going to the festival, but the pain of that sting was easily washed away by the joy Mark brought me. I looked back out at the pool, the lights under the water shifting from a rosy pink to a bright blue.

  Let me give Mark a little surprise.

  I tugged off my shorts and put them on a chair. My briefs were already straining against my erection. I decided to go all out. I was going to wait for him in that pool butt-ass naked, and he was going to come in and take me. He was going to make me his.

  I pulled my briefs down, and my cock sprang free. I gave it a few tugs and then took off my shirt, throwing that on the chair as well. I went for the glass door, my cock swinging in the air as I walked. The lock unclicked. I pulled on the door, and it slid open. Even though it was night and the desert should have found some relief from the heat, it was still a solid eighty-something out there. The warm air blew in through the open door, making the pool seem all the more inviting.

  It was when I stepped over the threshold and onto the stone outside that I heard it—a loud and guttural yell. Something I hadn’t heard before. It rang through the entire house and froze my blood instantly, regardless of how hot it was outside.

  “Mark?” I ran back inside and hurried down the hallway, still naked, still annoyingly hard.

  “Mark! Mark, what happ—”

  Mark was standing in the hallway briefs up, pants down, and pointing toward the bathroom. “What. In. The. Holy. Fuck.”

  Seeing Mark like this was freaking me out. The fear did an excellent job at killing my boner. “What happened?” I asked, turning the corner to see what in the hell he was talking about. I wasn’t in any rush, though, inching my head around the wall, scared for the moment an alien-like creature would launch at me from inside the toilet.

  “Whoa, holy shit!” I cursed, jumping back with Mark.

  There wasn’t an alien, and honestly, that probably would have been better than what was currently in the bathroom. Instead of some cool extraterrestrial being, there was a massive, hairy, skin-crawlingly close tarantula, seemingly preening its terrifying fangs as it stared us down with all hundred of its eyes. It sat on the lid to the toilet reservoir, and it was the worst goddamn thing I’d ever seen in my entire life.

  “Do something!” Mark said, his voice strained. Oh, how the tables had flipped.

  “I am…” I started walking away. “I’m setting this place on fire.”

  “What? Where are you going? You can’t take your eyes off this thing! It’ll probably stab us right in our backs!”

  “You’re right, so stay there and watch it,” I said over my shoulder as I picked up my pace.

  “Liam! Liam, it’s moving!”

  I started running now. Anyone looking at this from an outside perspective would have had to be in pure stitches by now. Here was a grown-ass man, running naked through a multimillion-dollar home while the love of his life—another full-grown man, who had his pants around his ankles—shrieked at an eight-legged monster that was probably just as scared of us as we were of it.

  I came back to the scene of the crime with a big bucket.

  “Wait, you’re naked?” Mark said, noticing me for the first time.

  “Yes. Why, is this something you’re into
?”

  “Oh yeah, I watch videos of naked guys catching killer spiders all the time.”

  “It’s not a killer,” I said, more to myself than to Mark as I gathered my guts to walk into the bathroom, bucket held ready to drop on the walking nightmare. “Tarantulas have never killed a human, okay?” I was getting closer now. “I think… Can you google that for me? Actually, don’t.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No, thank you,” Mark said from behind me. “You know what? Maybe I am into this.”

  “Well, take it in, because I hope this never happens again. Ever.” I was close enough to see the different colors in its hairy carapace. The brown and the black and—ugh, I was about to throw up. This was terrible.

  “You owe me,” I said. I was in range now. Just needed the last bit of courage annnnd… “Shit!”

  “Shit? What do you mean shit?”

  I dropped the bucket, but the edge hit the countertop and gave enough room for our new roommate to escape out the bottom and crawl down the side of the toilet. I yelled like the little kid Mark had been channeling since this entire thing started and ran backward as the tarantula ran toward me, its front legs raised, which I doubted was an invitation for a little salsa jig.

  I grabbed the doorknob and slammed the door shut as I fell back. I thought I was going to hit the wall, but instead Mark was there to catch me, his arms coming up under mine and breaking my fall.

  I got back on my feet and looked from Mark to the bathroom door and back to Mark.

  That was when we both lost it. We couldn’t stop laughing. “That shit… what the… I can’t, I can’t.” I was holding my stomach, my back against the wall, and I was still butt-ass naked.

  “What do we do now?” Mark said, wiping tears from his eyes, looking to me for an answer.

  “I’ve got someone we can call. Just don’t open this door.”

  “Can it open the door?”

  “No,” I said, pushing off the wall. “I don’t think it can.”

  “And what do you mean you have someone you can call? Has this happened before?”