“And you’ve seen his arms since the attack on Bailey?” Vienna persisted. “I’m sorry to push so hard, Stella,” she added when Stella made a face, “but we love you and we have to be absolutely certain you’re safe.”
Stella took another sip of her margarita and then nodded her head slowly, deliberately giving them her eyes darkened with sexual “memories.” “I have seen both arms, legs, as well as his entire very gorgeous body. Numerous times, I might add. There wasn’t a single bite mark that I didn’t put there myself. He doesn’t like to wear clothes to bed and he likes to wake me up in very interesting ways. The thing about Sam is, he’s very good at anything he does. Have you noticed that? He’s focused. Very, very focused.”
“Stop,” Harlow said and pressed both hands over her ears.
“No, you need to know how focused he gets, so you understand that I’ve learned that same focus from him. He inspects every square inch of me with his tongue. I can’t tell you how that feels. How he does this delicious little butterfly move that makes me want to scream and he isn’t even to the good parts yet …”
“Stella,” Shabina wailed. “Give us a break.”
“Just making certain you know I inspect him thoroughly and he’s super big in … er … that department, so I spend a bit of time there. The dog didn’t do any damage there and I’d be quite upset if he had. I would have reported that immediately.”
“That comes under the heading of TMI,” Raine said. “Even I have to object.”
Zahra threw her pillow, hitting Stella square in the face. “I don’t want to look at that man and wonder about his package. Don’t say another word.”
Stella was having too much fun. Her friends were either looking horrified or laughing, or doing both at the same time.
“I want you to know how it is totally impossible for the killer to be Sam when I’ve examined his body with the same absolute focus and attention he puts into mine. No scratches from Bailey’s claws, but there are a few from me in the throes of—”
A hail of pillows came her way as the other women threw them, pelting her fast with every throw pillow Shabina had in the room they could get their hands on. Stella nearly dropped her margarita on the carpet. She barely managed to get it onto the end table, she was laughing so hard and fending off the pillow attack.
“I’ll never get those images out of my head,” Harlow said. “Ugh. Thanks a lot.”
“I could have been way more descriptive, but Sam is very private,” Stella said. “And you know, he probably has the room bugged or something, given that he was a secret agent.” She whispered the last two words.
Instantly the women sobered and looked at one another and then around the room. Raine reached for one of the wayward pillows and buried her face in it.
“He was a secret agent?” Zahra repeated. “Like James Bond?”
“He couldn’t really bug my house. My security is too good,” Shabina said. Her eyebrows drew together. “Raine? Could someone really hack my security?”
Raine tried to look very serious. “I suppose James Bond could.” She burst out laughing. “You all are so easy.”
Vienna scowled at her. “We are talking about ruthless killers, Raine. And we’re helpless women alone in a huge house on a dark and stormy night.”
They all looked at the windows. The wind was blowing, but there was no rain. In fact, the moon and stars were out.
“Out of curiosity, how many of you are armed?” Shabina asked.
Stella raised her hand. Shabina, Raine, Harlow and Vienna all raised their hands.
Zahra raised her eyebrows. “Really? I’m the only one without a gun?”
“You have some kind of weapon on you,” Stella said. “I know you, Zahra.”
“Nothing so crude as a gun.”
“So, it isn’t stormy and we’re not so helpless,” Raine concluded.
They all began laughing again. Vienna shrugged and poured herself another drink from the pitcher on the low coffee table. “I got the part about it being dark right.”
“Guns are crude?” Stella echoed. “Since when?”
“They’re heavy. When you’re walking on the trail, with those horrid backpacks you insist I carry, they just add more weight. I have become a minimalist,” Zahra declared.
Another round of laughter went up. With great dignity, Zahra rose, skirted around Stella and the dogs, and filled her glass with the contents of the pitcher.
“I don’t understand why you’re all laughing. Do you even know what a minimalist is?” Zahra asked, her nose in the air. She made her way back to her spot, collecting pillows as she went. “These are really nice, Shabina, where did you get them? You always find the nicest things for your house.”
“Babe,” Harlow objected. “You can’t be buying pillows for your house if you’re a minimalist.”