The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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βSounds good. Logan, as much as I hate the thought that this is one of our people, I agree with you. If I could report by the end of the cruise that weβve identified the distributor and the route onto the ship and have shut it down, that would satisfy the insurers. Otherwise . . .β I canβt see it, but I can almost hear his shrug. βThings are going to get tough.β
βUnderstood.β
More pressure.
After we say our goodbyes and Ed hangs up, Michael raises an eyebrow at me. βMaybe I need to polish up my resume.β
βI hope not.β But I canβt really offer him any assurances beyond that.
βYou donβt always get your man?β
βIβm not Poirot. The most logical assumption is that the distributor tossed my cabin. They didnβt find anything, but they at least suspect what Iβm doing. Easiest thing is for them to simply close up shop until I go away.β
βBy which time the insurers may have closed down the cruise.β
βIβm afraid so.β Pressure, pressure, pressure. I roll my shoulders. I can only do what I can do. βHow about this brick?β
Michaelβs done a good job with both the pills, which are in a prescription bottle that has my name on the convincing-looking label, and the liquid brick, which is in a sports drink bottle.
βLocal pharmacy,β Michael says, tapping the pill-bottle label. βPrescription antihistamines. If youβre questioned, your doctor called the prescription down for you to pick up while you were ashore. Thatβs plausible. For the solution, donβt open the bottle whatever you do. The smell is worse than Saturday night in emergency.β
I wrinkle my nose and make a mental note to keep the bottle separate from all my other stuff in case of leakage. βThanks for the warning. Anything else I should know?β
βNothing I can think of. Teresa and I are flying back to L.A. tonight. Youβve got my cell. Donβt hesitate to call me if anything comes up.β
I offer him my hand. βThanks for everything, Michael.β
βMy pleasure. Shall we go find our ladies before they buy out the town? I know the boutique Teresa will have taken Emily to.β
βNow thatβs a plan.β
* * *
Out on the street, the heat wraps me in a humid embrace. Remembering Emilyβs Aliens quip has me chuckling as we make our way through the crowded streets towards the Marina.
βAlways this busy?β I ask Michael, as I detour around a pair of sunburned tourists who are blocking the entire sidewalk as they point at beach tat in a shop window.
He snorts. βThis is off-peak. You should see it when the snowbirds are here. And the spring breakers. Weβve stopped running cruises during spring break. Itβs too crazy. Impossible to get a spare square inch on the beaches, and itβs wall-to-wall here in town.β
I donβt usually have an issue with crowds, but between the sun bouncing off the concrete and the sticky heat of other bodies, Iβm not just ready for the air-conditioned store, but also to head back to the boat. Even the deep freeze of my cabin is preferable to this heat. Itβs also been several hours since I fucked Emily, which my balls are informing me is just too long.
A blast of cold air at the boutiqueβs entrance revives me, although not enough to want to actually shop. The sight of my little girl bouncing towards me lifts my spirits even more.
She grins, eyes alight, as she approaches, and I canβt keep an answering, goofy grin off my face. Weβve been apart less than an hour and Iβm ridiculously happy to see her. Everything feels lighter when Iβm with my little girl. The worries are still there: finding the brick pusher before Pink Pearlβs insurers shut them down, figuring out what the Hell to do about Miranda and Colin and the baby. But theyβre a featherweight instead of a megaton.
When she reaches me, I run my knuckles down her soft, soft cheek and tap the small paper bag she has tucked under one arm. She immediately tries to shift it behind her, as though thatβll make it disappear.
βFind something you liked?β
βItβs a surprise. For you. When we get back to New York.β
βIs it?β What could she have found for me in this store? Itβs not a womenβs clothes-type boutique. Itβs more artsy, with handmade glass, metal and fabric bits filling the shelves. The only thing I see that Iβd actually want are a couple of bottles of Blue Mango craft beer, but the package Emilyβs holding is too small to contain beer bottles. Still, Iβll never say βnoβ to a gift from my baby girl. βThank you, sweetie.β
βItβs just a souvenir. I mean, itβs not as nice as this.β She touches the pearl on her collar. βBut maybe it will remind you of our trip.β
βIβm sure it will. I look forward to seeing it when we get home.β
She goes up on her toes and when I lean in, nuzzles and then kisses me in the spot under my jaw she likes.
βYou ready to brave the heat again while we see the sights?β I ask, sliding my arm around her shoulders.
She nods but the light in her eyes fades a little.
βEverything okay, baby doll?β
She shifts from foot to foot. Everythingβs not okay, but sheβs nervous about telling me.
βCommunication, Emmy. Whatβs up?β
βIβmβwould it be okay if I said I was kind of Cabo-ed out? Are there things you want to see?β
Not really. The sightseeing was for her benefit, not mine.
βWould you like to head back to the boat?β
βIf it would be okay with you,β she says, vibrating with anxiety. This is the flip side of her intense desire to please me. It brings every protective instinct I have roaring to the surface. βI justβI feel like I might have had too much sun.β
βNever be afraid of telling me when youβve had too much.β I draw her a little closer and kiss her forehead. βWeβve had a nice day.
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