Cassidy Kincaid Mysteries Box Set

shook her head and the motion caused her head to swim. “No, I . . . ” She took a deep breath.
Mel’s eyes had changed to concerned. “Rough day?” he asked.
Cassidy swallowed. She thought about her morning session at La Casita and her evening surf with the Ticos. She remembered Eddie’s hands on her waist and riding high over the water with the view of the mountains in the distance. Then she remembered the police station, the apartment, and the skanky neighbor.
Mel mixed something and placed it in front of her. It was cold and fizzy, with a bleed of something red melting through it.
“Non-alcoholic,” he said, and nodded for her to try it.
She took a tentative sip. “Wow,” she said, taking another. “What’s in it?”
His blue eyes twinkled. “My special rescue recipe.”
“Pomegranate?” she asked. She wanted to jump into her glass. It was that good.
He nodded. “And soda, with a little extra vitamins.”
“Gracias,” she said, enjoying the cold, tangy taste. She sighed. “I went to Reeve’s apartment,” she said.
The waitress from the table of surfers arrived with the bill, and Mel cashed them out.
“Find anything?” Mel asked her when the waitress left with their change.
Cassidy shook her head. “It’s been broken into. The whole place trashed.”
Mel grimaced.
“I met Reeve’s neighbor,” she said, unsure how to ask what she needed to ask. She looked at him, as if for reassurance. He crossed his arms, the twinkle in his eye replaced by a worried, focused gaze. “And he said that he and Reeve sometimes partied with ‘the girls.’ ”
Mel frowned. “Did the neighbor know where he’d gone?”
Cassidy shook her head. She was starting to feel tired. “So how . . . ” She gazed into her drink. “These girls, these . . . chicas,” she finished in a quiet voice. “How do people contact them? Where do they hang out?”
“Nowhere you’d want to be. That’s for sure,” Mel replied sternly.
Cassidy remembered the man standing outside of the apartment, smoking. Had he been waiting for the girl who went into the neighbor’s room? She remembered the poster in the police station: Stop Selling Our Children. Had the man been the girl’s father? The thought made her feel sick.
“Whoa, there,” Mel said, and quick as a flash, came around the bar. He was holding something in his hand. “Smell this,” he said.
Cassidy inhaled the strong scent of ginger, and her mind cleared instantly. After another breath, she felt better. She realized that Mel’s hand was on her back.
“Okay?” he said, his body steady and his expression calm.
The gesture washed over her, and she realized that this was what she missed: kindness, compassion, someone who was there to catch her fall. She shoved these thoughts away before they took root, and nodded.
Mel stepped away. He pulled up a stool, and she realized that the bar had closed for the night.
“Reeve had a girlfriend—Jade,” she said. “I think she was a prostitute. Apparently he was really into her.” She looked at Mel. “Do you know how I could find her?” Even as she said it, the task seemed not only impossible but also dreadful.
“Listen,” he said. “Prostitution is legal here, but you don’t want to go around looking for this girl. There’s still a lot of crossover with illegal activity. It’s an industry that makes a lot of money, and anytime you have that in a town like this, you’ll find trouble.” He paused, and seeing the anguish in Cassidy’s eyes, added, “Let me ask instead. I might be able to find out something.”
Cassidy nodded, feeling relieved. She stood, and her legs felt wobbly, but a deep breath helped. A wave broke in the distance, and Cassidy looked out across the bar, which was dark and empty, the candles extinguished.
Mel was still sitting, and he was watching her carefully. She thought of her empty room and its empty bed, her empty heart.
As if he could read her mind, he stood and stepped close. His fingers brushed a hair off her forehead. “Déjame,” he said. Let me.
The energy she felt seemed to increase with every step they took together towards her room, so by the time she was at the doorstep, her fingers were shaking and the key fell out of her hand. Her body felt like a sizzling firecracker about to shoot into space, with a crowd watching in eager anticipation. It was intoxicating. Mel picked up the key and as he thrust it into the lock, they turned toward each other, and she looked into his blue eyes. He slid his other hand around her waist. She lifted her face to his and kissed him, a soft, tender kiss that led to another kiss and another, their bodies pressing together. Then the door opened, and they were inside the dark room. She stepped out of her flip-flops, feeling jittery. This was happening, and she realized that she had wanted it all along. There was something powerful about Mel’s presence, something that drew her in. She briefly wondered if she should be resisting it when Mel’s hand lifted her shirt over her head and pulled her close.
She unbuttoned his shirt as they kissed in the dark. His chest was warm and he felt so strong, as if he could scoop her up in his arms and carry her for miles. He kissed her softly, but urgently, and she returned his kisses, her mouth hungry as they stood in the middle of the room. His hands caressed her shoulders, then they slid down the straps of her bra, slowly, the satiny fabric tickling her arms, and she shuddered. As he kissed his way down her collarbone, she ran her hands through his hair, which was loose now, and when he arrived at her nipple, she gasped, her body arching to his lips. He pulled the fabric farther down, and then his hands were caressing her. Cassidy moaned, her skin sizzling with the sensation.
He unbuttoned her shorts that fell to the floor, then slid her panties down. Her skin