Side Effects by VK Powell

Author:VK Powell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2015-06-13T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

When Jordan and Bex pulled alongside Harry and Phil the next morning to debrief, Neela’s street and driveway looked like a used-car lot. “What the hell is going on?” Jordan asked as she handed over two fresh cups of coffee and hot doughnuts.

“Thanks, Bishop. We got no idea what’s happening in there, but it’s pretty calm,” Phil said. “People have been coming and going all night like it’s Grand Central Station.”

Jordan felt a flash of anxiety. “Have you seen an ambulance? Maybe something happened to Bina. Did you check?”

“No ambulance or emergency personnel, just a few real lookers and a mini League of Nations. Everybody seemed seriously focused.” They air-toasted their coffees and drove away.

“We need to find out what’s up,” Jordan said and walked toward the house with Bex close behind. She knocked, and a few seconds later, Liz Blackmon opened the door.

“Well, good morning, detectives.” She lounged against the doorframe in a pair of silk pajamas. Jordan clenched her fists and tried to keep down her coffee. She nodded for Bex to handle the situation and stepped away but stayed within earshot.

“We were concerned, with all the cars, that maybe something had happened with Bina or Neela. Is everything all right, Ms. Blackmon?” Bex’s tone was ingratiating, almost flirty. Jordan watched her rake her fingers through her hair and square her shoulders, both clear indications of attraction. Liz was exactly Bex’s type—feminine, busty, and redheaded.

“Get on with it,” Jordan mumbled. She wanted to be anywhere but standing outside Neela’s house with Liz Blackmon inside.

“Come in, detectives. I’d love to, what do you call it, brief you.” She stood aside, and Bex passed closer than necessary on her way in. “Detective Bishop?”

“I’ll be in the car.”

“Suit yourself, but Neela has whipped up a full breakfast spread—waffles, bacon, eggs, and fruit on the side. She’s really quite the cook. Sure you won’t join us?”

Jordan walked toward her vehicle without answering. Us indeed. Now her best friend had been lured into the vixen’s web. She’d probably come out grinning, freshly fucked just like Neela. Stop it. Torturing herself with images of what was happening and what never could would only shred her and fuel her frustration and sadness.

She focused on the ducks paddling effortlessly on the lake across the street and on a couple of runners looping the water. When the car door opened and the seat beside her shifted, she assumed Bex was finally back. “Did you get what you wanted?”

“Not yet, but hope springs eternal.”

Neela’s sultry tone curled around her heart and squeezed until Jordan couldn’t breathe. She was almost afraid to look, fearing she might be a mirage. When she turned, Neela was next to her wearing the same jogging tights and form-hugging top as the first time Jordan had stood on her doorstep. Neela offered her a foil-covered plate and utensils wrapped in a paper napkin.

“Bina insisted you taste my world-famous breakfast.”

Jordan’s throat was so tight she had difficulty speaking. “W—world famous, huh?”

“Well, at least in Mumbai and Greensboro.

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