The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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Pool Sex Girl, I think, but donβt say aloud. Sheβs a trail of breadcrumbs leading off in another direction, and while itβs tempting to follow it, I donβt think that trail holds any of the answers Iβm looking for.
βDid you see Rick again that night?β
βNooo.β He draws the word out and I can almost hear him straining to remember over the phone before he dissolves back into munching. βI donβt think so. I stayed by the pool for a while until I saw what was going on. The idiots were stuffing towels into the filter. Holy crap on a cracker, what a mess! You should ask Terri about it. She was beside herself, poor thing.β
I heard. βAfter you left the pool?β
βI went back into the house but there wasnβt anyone interesting at the bar and all the rooms were already taken. Early night, I tell you! I shouldnβt joke, though. That must have been when it was happening.β
βWhen what was happening?β
βDonβt you know? The Stans and a couple others got two girls drunk and pulled a train on them. So nineties frat party.β More munching. βYou should speak to Terri about it. She has all the deets.β
Another trail of breadcrumbs. βDid you come across a girl named Laura or a guy named Damon at the party?β
βI donβt remember a Laura, but sure, I know Damon. Heβs on the tech side, if you know what I mean.β
The tech side of what? βSorry, I donβt.β
βComputers. IT. You know, the stuff with ones and zeros. Not the six-figure ones that I like, either. The boy codes or something. And I think he still lives in his motherβs basement. Well, her Manhattan high-rise, but still.β
βHeβs here in New York? Whatβs his full name?β
βDamon Tiger. Now that sounds like a name that should be in front of the camera, doesnβt it? But I swear itβs his real name.β
Rowe doesnβt have Tigerβs number, but he directs me to the guyβs website, Tiger Tail Tech.
While Iβm thanking Rowe and giving him my contact details in case he remembers anything else once heβs no longer distracted by his potato chips, I surf the Tiger Tail Tech website for contact information on my laptop. Thereβs only an online contact form, which isnβt ideal, but I fire off a request for Damon Tiger to contact me and give my cell and the house landline. I also email the website address to Max to see if he can work his magic on getting a physical address or phone number.
As Iβm typing, I hear voices in the other room. My hair-trigger goes off. Literally. The small hairs on the back of my neck rise. Is there someone in the house? Gina, the housekeeper, came and went in her usual flurry of furniture polish and floor cleaner an hour ago, so it should just be me and Emily in the house. And Sable.
Damn, I knew he looked like a Jellicle Cat.
I rise and move silently to the doorway. Listening, I catch the cadence and timbre of the voice. Itβs Vashi, the submissive of my friend Niallβs trio. Emily must be on a video call to her.
I move back to my desk and finish going through my emails. Hoping to catch at least one of them, I try the people on Rickβs list that I havenβt reached yet. But no one answers. It is Friday night. I leave more voicemails, before I lock away my laptop and join Emily in the kitchen.
Sheβs sitting in the breakfast nook, the French doors still open to the twilit garden and evening breeze, with her tablet propped up on the table. The catβs on Emilyβs lap, one white-tipped paw reaching up to bat at the tablet, his rusty purr filling the air.
I drop a kiss on the top of Emilyβs head as I move past her to the fridge. Thereβs a big jug of filtered water with lime wedges next to the iced coffee. I fill two glasses and take them to the table.
βHello, Master Logan,β Vashi greets me when I sit down.
I tip my head so Iβm in frame and smile into the tabletβs camera. Vashi smiles back, white teeth flashing. Iβve never seen her in anything but a sari, and although I can only see her head and torso, it looks like sheβs wearing one today: midnight-blue and gold, with her hair draped over one shoulder like a black silk scarf.
βHello, Vashi. How are you and your masters?β
βWe are all very well, thank you, Master Logan. Master Niall sends his apologies. He was called out to a site but he says he will call you tomorrow.β
βNo problem,β I say easily, but my shoulders tighten. I was looking forward to talking with Niall. The whole brother from another mother thing is asinine, and Iβd never say it to him, because heβd never stop taking the piss out of me if I did, but he is. Getting to know Niall on the cruise was the second-best part of it, after falling for Emily. He had my back in a way no one else could have after I was injured, and since coming back from San Diego, weβve talked every few days. Iβm looking forward to seeing him when he and his submissives come to New York next month, even more than Iβm anticipating Thanksgiving with Lizbeth and my nieces, and thatβs saying something.
I havenβt told him about the medical bills, but I was going to tonight. Iβve got to get it off my chest before I explode. Iβm not going to ask for his help financially, although heβll probably offer, but I know heβs not that liquid. All his money is tied up in his construction business and the house that heβs in the middle of building in San Clemente. So much so that he maxed out his credit cards getting flights to San Diego from Mexico when I was injured. I paid him back half, which was all heβd
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