Powers of Arrest - [5]
John didn’t know how much time had passed. The sky beyond the overhang of trees was inky, filled with stars. Jennifer and Chelsea had disappeared. A few feet away, he saw Heather embracing Zack. He was sitting in his captain’s chair and she was in his lap. The chair was turned to face the stern, where John was sprawled on the bench.
“You were so busy up front with the Jennifer and Chelsea that I didn’t think you were interested in me,” Heather said.
“Saving the best for last,” Zack said.
The two were kissing deeply and he had his hand in her shorts. She moaned again.
John felt sick but not from the liquor. Yet he sat there and pretended to be asleep, watching the thing unfold. Zack slipped off her light top and expertly unhooked her bra. Her skin glowed in the starlight as she sat on his lap, facing away from John. After a few minutes, she dropped to her knees and unzipped him.
“My, my, what’s this?”
It was a woman’s voice, husky, alien.
“You like, babe?” Zack said.
She laughed. “What do I do with it?”
As she moved her head, John stared at Zack’s penis, transfixed.
“Let me help.” Zack reached down to undo it. Heather leaned forward and her hair covered what came next. But it was clear what was happening. Her head bobbed up and down. The boat rocked gently and John wanted to kill them both. He wanted to kill himself. It was a feeling that only grew as he saw, through the slits of his eyes, Heather kick off her shorts and black panties, climb astride the captain’s chair, and reach down to put Mister Perfect’s penis inside her.
“Fuck me!” she whispered.
John felt his face grow a hot blush.
They rocked against each other. Heather laughed and arched her back.
It seemed to last for years. He watched the whole thing, the drill of betrayal boring into his middle, but also…arousal. Maybe he was a peeping Tom. A freak.
They moved with ever-greater urgency until both were groaning loudly.
Heather’s voice split the night. “Oh! You’re making me come.”
John closed his eyes and tried to think of nothing. After awhile the powerful engines of the boat started and idled.
“Hey, Borders, good nap?”
Zack was grinning at him, his stubble no longer so perfect, his clothes half-on and half off. Heather hung on Zack, looking like a new Burberry scarf around the neck of a homeless man. She didn’t look at John.
“It was what it was.” John sat upright on the bench.
The two other girls appeared from the front of the boat, ahead of the open cabin, which held two seats where you could stretch out.
“Did you girls have more fun?” Zack asked. He walked aft, leaned past John, and made fast the rope holding the Zodiac. “I love that boat,” he said.
“Me, too.” John glared at him.
They retraced their route back to the city, going slower this time, the little skiff barely noticeable behind them. The river was deserted now, the water nearly flat except for their unwelcome wake. He looked at his cell phone: almost four a.m.
“Check it out,” Zack said. “We’re not the last ones at closing time.”
The two other girls were exchanging embarrassed looks while giving John dirty glances. They dug into their bags and pulled on more substantial tops and jeans.
Zack pointed to the cabin cruiser, still tied up by the railroad bridge. On closer inspection, it was an older boat.
“Rinker Fiesta 330,” Zack said. “Let’s have a little fun. Bet you somebody’s fucking in there. Probably one of our dads cheating…”
“Don’t,” John said.
“We wouldn’t want sex happening on a public waterway,” Zack said augustly.
Heather laughed. She said, “Do it.”
He aimed the spotlight and shot its powerful beam into the cabin. All John could think of was the memory of Heather’s back and pelvis moving against Zack, how her head went up and down on his lap as if she couldn’t get enough, stopping only long enough to pull her hair over one shoulder. And the sight of Zack’s cock out of his pants…
Jennifer let out a gasp.
John saw it. Bright slices of red were painted against the glass of the oval-shaped portholes. He could swear it wasn’t there when they went upriver.
“That looks like blood,” Jennifer whispered.
“We should get out of here.” Heather pulled herself away from Zack and slumped in the seat beside him.
Zack played the light all across the boat. The decks were empty.
“I mean it, we should go.” Heather put on her bra under her blouse.
Zack stayed, holding the craft with the engines. They idled loudly, echoing off the trees and levees. Anyone inside couldn’t help but hear them.
He yelled across. “Hey! Ahoy! Need help?”
The cabin cruiser rocked gently at its mooring.
“Why don’t you check it out, Borders? You should know this kind of shit, being a cop’s son and all.”
John stared at the dark boat, now no more than ten feet away.
“Stay here, John.” Heather looked at him, a blurry expression in her eyes.
“Come alongside,” John said, standing.
“John!”
He ignored her and as the two craft gently bumped together he stepped across onto the stern of the other boat. “Got a flashlight?”
Zack tossed him one, a heavy two-cell with a metal case, and he miraculously caught it.
In this "prequel" to the popular David Mapstone mysteries, author Jon Talton takes us back to 1999, when everything dot-com was making money, the Y2K bug was the greatest danger facing the world, and the good times seemed as if they would never end.It was a time before David and Lindsey were together, before Mike Peralta was sherriff, and before David had rid himself of the sexy and mysterious Gretchen.In Phoenix, it's the sweet season and Christmas and the new millennium are only weeks away. But history professor David Mapstone, just hired by the Sheriff's Office, still finds trouble, chasing a robber into an abandoned warehouse and discovering a gruesome crime from six decades ago.Mapstone begins an investigation into a Depression-era kidnapping that transfixed Arizona and the nation: the disappearance of a cattle baron's grandsons, their bodies never found.
The private-detective business starts out badly for former Phoenix Deputy David Mapstone, who has teamed up with his old friend and boss, Sheriff Mike Peralta. Their first client is gunned down just after hiring them. The case: A suspicious death investigation involving a young Arizona woman who fell from a condo tower in San Diego. The police call Grace Hunter's death a suicide, but the client doesn't buy it. He's her brother. Or is he? After his murder, police find multiple driver's licenses and his real identity is a mystery.
A cache of diamonds is stolen in Phoenix. The prime suspect is former Maricopa County Sheriff Mike Peralta, now a private investigator. Disappearing into Arizona's mountainous High Country, Peralta leaves his business partner and longtime friend David Mapstone with a stark choice. He can cooperate with the FBI, or strike out on his own to find Peralta and what really happened. Mapstone knows he can count on his wife Lindsey, one of the top "good hackers" in law enforcement. But what if they've both been betrayed? Mapstone is tested further when the new sheriff wants him back as a deputy, putting to use his historian's expertise to solve a very special cold case.
Cheryl Beth Wilson is an elite nurse at Cincinnati Memorial Hospital who finds a doctor brutally murdered in a secluded office. Wilson had been having an affair with the doctoras husband, a surgeon, and this makes her a aperson of interesta to the police, if not at outright suspect. But someone other than the cops is watching Cheryl Beth.The killing comes as former homicide detective Will Borders is just hours out of surgery. But as his stretcher is wheeled past the crime scene, he knows this is no random act of violence.
A handsome young New York professor comes to Phoenix to research his new book. But when he's brutally murdered, police connect him to one of the world's most deadly drug cartels. This shouldn't be a case for historian-turned-deputy David Mapstone – except the victim has been dating David's sister-in-law Robin and now she's a target, too. David's wife Lindsey is in Washington with an elite anti-cyber terror unit and she makes one demand of him: protect Robin.This won't be an easy job with the city police suspicious of Robin and trying to pressure her.
Луна временами становится красной. Кто-то даже не заметит, но только не жители маленького городка Делейси. События предстоящей ночи поменяют их жизни навсегда. Человек-без-имени хочет исцелиться от древнего недуга. Банковский клерк постарается изо всех сил спасти возлюбленную. А троица грабителей планируют сорвать солидный куш. Остаётся вопрос: а нет ли четвёртой заинтересованной стороны?
Юрий Ребров по образованию преподаватель русского языка и литературы. Долгое время занимался журналистикой, работал ведущим на радио и телевидении. Занимал должность главного редактора журнала. Сочинение детективных произведений — его старое увлечение. Повести Юрия Реброва неоднократно публиковались в журналах и были награждены премиями. В настоящее время вышло несколько его книг. Компания «Посейдон» лакомый кусочек: морские суда, ценные грузы, портовая инфраструктура. И владелец ее Юрий Филимонов тоже настоящая акула капитала.
Книга «Восемь дней в сентябре и Рождество в Париже» — это детективный роман петербургского искусствоведа В. И. Переятенец. Будучи аттестованным экспертом Министерства культуры РФ, автором многочисленных статей и таких книг, как «Русский антиквариат» и «Экспертиза и оценка произведений декоративно-прикладного искусства. Фарфор. Стекло. Ювелирные изделия», она хорошо знакома со средой коллекционеров и торговцев антиквариатом. Однако не следует воспринимать данное сочинение как документальное.
Действие нового романа Ирины Лобусовой «Красная комната» происходит в большом городе, куда приезжает, переживая любовную драму, талантливая художница Евгения Кравец, именующая себя Джин. Она устраивается на работу дизайнером в архитектурную фирму и снимает квартиру в старинном доме: ей очень нравится гостиная в красных обоях, производящая на многих зловещее впечатление. Джин чувствует некоторое родство с этой странной комнатой, да и сама она выглядит странно, эпатируя окружающих зелеными волосами, в том числе руководителя фирмы Вадима, человека пресыщенного, живущего в свое удовольствие, но давно потерявшего интерес ко всему.
В маленьком городке, затерянном среди бескрайних пустошей Австралии, произошла трагедия: священник местной церкви убил пятерых человек, а потом и сам погиб от пули полицейского. Что же стало причиной кровавой бойни? В этом решил разобраться известный столичный журналист Мартин Скарсден. Однако едва он приступил к расследованию, как городок потрясло новое преступление – возле запруды обнаружили тела двух неизвестных молодых женщин… Связаны ли между собой это двойное убийство и история священника-«стрелка»? Расследование Мартина приняло новый оборот.