Summer Squall

"Thank you, Tim," Stafford said, and he turned to Audrey. "Rob Kerney?"

"He's my brother-in-law. Avis's husband."

"And as far as you know, he lives here?"

"Yes, and works in Hamilton. He's an investment broker. There's a contact number for him in my purse if you need it."

"Thank you. We will call him. How long were you down on the beach before coming back up to the house?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe an hour and a half. Why do you ask?"

"It will help us determine the time of the crime. The medical examiner won't be able to provide more than a couple of hours give or take. But you said there a storm that went through here during that time? We had the effects of one over in Hamilton as well."

"Yes, a squall," Audrey said. There was a pause before she said, "but it hit quickly. I didn't want to try to wooden stairs back up to the house. I was afraid they'd be slippery from the rain and I'd slip and fall down them. There are rock croppings at the end of the beach. I made my way there and rode the storm out in partial shelter there."

David Lewiston spoke up again. "I may have seen her go for shelter, Sir. As you know, I live next door. When the squall came in, I checked my terrace to see that everything was secure, and I saw a woman in a black bikini headed for the shelter of the rocks to the south of the beach. That probably was Mrs. Dawson."

"I was wearing a black bikini, yes," Audrey said, in relief. "That would have been me."

"I see," Stafford said. "I'll make a note of that, of course."

A policeman entered the room from the hall toward the master bedroom. "Sorry to interrupt, Sir," he said. "We found the female victim's cell phone. Mrs. Kerney. The last call from here was at 3:05. To a Robert Kerney. I called the number and got a secretary. She said that Mr. Kerney wasn't there—that he'd received a call and had left the office at about 3:10."

"That would have been not long before the summer squall that went through," David offered. "It would have taken him ten or fifteen minutes to drive over here from Hamilton."

"Yes, well," Stafford said. He thought for a moment and then said, "Perhaps that's all of the questions we have for now for you, Mrs. Dawson. You of course can't stay here. We'll have to see about having you put up in a hotel nearby. David, stay with Mrs. Dawson here for a few minutes, please, while I call and make arrangements. Emily will bring your suitcase. You, of course, will realize that she has inspected the contents."

"Yes, I understand," Audrey said in a small voice.

When they were alone, David came over to Audrey and said, "Are you all right? You don't seem all that distraught."

"I think it's the shock. I'll probably fall apart any moment now. To think that while this was going on, I . . . that you and I . . ."

"Shush, we don't want to complicate matters by letting that come in. Just tell me one thing—that you didn't come on to me because you needed an alibi for anything."

"Of course not," Audrey said, indignantly. "Nick and I hadn't been getting along, I'll admit that. I was vulnerable. I came to my sister's to escape Nick, not to follow him here. I succumbed to you because . . . well, because you are a hunk and I was vulnerable. You can't believe—"

"OK, OK, but I had to ask. You came on strong out there."

"I think we both did," Audrey answered. "You're not exactly shy."

Stafford came back into the room. "OK, we have two rooms at The Sandpiper, which is nearby. The rooms are adjoining. We can have Mrs. Dawson's door to the outside permanently locked from both sides and she'd have to go through the other room to get out. We'll have round-the-clock babysitting until we get this straightened out. I'll get Emily—"

"I'll take a shift until tomorrow morning, Lieutenant. I had a night shift last night and am rested enough for just dozing. Emily can come in in the morning, after she gets a good night's sleep. Here, I'd just be next door and your guys over here would be keeping me awake."

"Sounds like a plan," Stafford said. They hadn't consulted with Audrey on the plan, but it was OK with her—having a night with David.

"I'll go next door and pack a bag," David said. "Right after I make a pit stop." He went into the hall bath, opened the window, and pushed the initialed terrycloth robe Audrey had left there after her shower out onto the ground. After flushing the toilet, he came back by the living room, and said, "I'll just be a minute. I guess someone will drive us over to The Sandpiper."

"You guessed right. Take Mrs. Dawson to the dining room there for dinner. Emily will come with a breakfast for you both tomorrow morning. The department will pay the tab."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," David said. He left by way of the terrace, went around to the side of the house, and, after looking around to ensure no one was watching, retrieved his robe and hurried on to his own house, looking around there for any evidence he had to remove of Audrey's presence there earlier.

* * * *

Audrey was lying, cheek to pillow and breasts pressing David's palms to the mattress, as, with her rump raised a bit on her knees, the big black man covered her from above, his thick black shaft sliding in and out of her pussy. Both of them were breathing hard. She was moaning and he was groaning. The pace of his stroking picked up, their breathing became ragged, and they muttered dirty words to each other to enhance the mutual arousal.

She tensed and he tightened his hold on her and went to off-beat, deep thrusts. He pulled one hand back from where it had been cupping an ample breast and moved it between her thighs, searching for, finding, and rubbing her clit. Audrey writhed against him, cried out in ecstasy, exploded, and went docile in his embrace. David continued the off-rhythm thrusts and the working of her clit with his finger. Audrey built too and delivered another orgasm and collapsed under him. He flipped her over onto her back, pushed his knees under her buttocks, and leaned over and sucked her nipples, one after the other, into his mouth. Audrey clawed at his shoulder blades with her fingernails and then ran her hands into the tight, kinky, black curls on his head. She arched her back and moved her pelvis against his, matching the rhythm of his trusts.

David rose back, grabbed her hips, and ground them against him as he thrust again and again and again, and filled the bulb of his condom. He leaned his face down and they kissed deeply before, with a long sigh, he rolled off of her and onto his back beside her on the bed in her room in The Sandpiper.

"You know you'll have to go muss up the bed in your room before morning," she whispered.

"Yes, but not yet," he murmured. "That was great."

"Yes, it was," she said, and then, "You know I've been thinking."

"You think during sex?" he asked.

"Sometimes. When I know I'm in trouble, I do."

"Let's not—"

"It was Rob. It obviously was Rob, don't you see? A policeman said there were two cars in the drive—and they both belonged to Rob and my sister. There was only one car there when I arrived. And Avis had called him. She called him to come home and he did, obviously."

"She called to tell him that your husband was in her bed. And he came home and shot them?"

"Well, maybe she called him to taunt him or something. Avis could be a real bitch. And something else. Nick's boat was at the pier when I came down to the beach. I knew it looked like his but I had no idea he was there, so I just thought it was one like his. Didn't you see it?"

"Nope. But I wasn't looking for it."

"Well, it was gone when I came up to the house after the squall."

"After the squall or after the squall and after we fucked like bunnies at my house? But, you're right. We need to agree that you never were at my house. No use complicating the case."

"So, don't you see? Rob came home, found them in bed, shot them, and then took off in Nick's boat."

"He went out to sea in a squall?"

"Well, he'd just killed two people."

"Well, maybe. Hold that thought, though." His cell phone was ringing on the nightstand in the other room.

When he came back, he said, "Good thinking, it turns out. That was Stafford, telling me that a yacht went onto the rocks near Horseshoe Bay Beach during the squall yesterday. A body washed up on the beach last night. It's Robert Kerney."

"So, he took the boat out in the storm," Audrey said. This was shaping up better than she could have expected it to.

"Yep, and they found a gun in the wreckage that might be the murder weapon—and a bunch of packets of cocaine. Looks like a drug ring gone bad. None of this will redound on you, will it? You weren't any part of drug running, were you?" He had climbed back into the bed and pulled Audrey into his chest. Her buttocks were nestled into his groin. She could feel his thick, long dick stiffening again.

"No. I know nothing about the drug business. Maybe I should have. Both families seemed to be living above their income. Nick's boat alone—" And that explains Nick's need for an ocean-going boat, she thought. He's been transporting drugs in it. But David obviously wasn't listening to her. He was busying positioning the bulb of his dick between her legs again.

Yes, she thought, this had all formed up better than she had any hope that it would. She had panicked and been sloppy, but the gods had been looking down on her and cleaned it all up. It's true that she'd found the gun in the nightstand while she was changing into her bikini—but it hadn't just been one gun. There had been two. After she'd seen Nick and Avis together, she remembered the guns and went back to the guestroom. After she'd returned and shot them with one of the guns, she'd wiped it off and dropped it by the bed.

Then she remembered the cocaine packets on the dining room table and took Avis's cell phone and called Rob. They were sisters; their voices were close enough alike for Rob to mistake them, not having any idea that it was Audrey calling him. As Avis, she'd said that there were some thugs in a van out on the road and she was afraid they'd come to steal the drugs. Rob had bit on that and said he'd be right home.

Audrey panicked then and just cleared out, going down to the beach. The plan, not thought out all that well, as her suitcase and purse and the gun had been left in the house, was that she'd stay on the beach while Rob discovered the bodies and called the police and that, hopefully, they'd suspect he'd murdered Nick and Avis.

That's when the gods took over her plan. Rob obviously found the bodies but was stupid enough to grab the drugs and the gun and try to escape blame by taking Nick's boat out in a squall. The randy black guy and the summer squall itself were godsends. Even that David was a detective and helped her stay clear of deeper scrutiny was a godsend. Now all she had to do was give the black hunk a good time for a few days and then fly home, the grieving widow, and start tracking down the assets Nick obviously had socked away somewhere.

But, for now, "Oh, fuck, David, you're going to . . . again . . ."

"I most certainly am, you luscious lady." And then he did.