Say You Need Me (5 page)

Darrell gave her an odd look. “I don’t see how.”

“The last I heard from Cecil, he left me a note at the library saying something urgent had come up and he had to leave town.”

Darrell’s heart slammed against his ribs. His brother had left her a note? “Did he say why, or where he was going?”

Serena folded her arms over her chest. “No. He just said he’d be in touch as soon as he could.” Serena frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe if I think back, something will come to me.”

“It sounds like you know as much as I know. Which is nothing.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed, like she was thinking hard. “What exactly did Cecil tell you?”

“He said he’d gotten himself into some trouble he wasn’t sure he could get out of. When I asked what, I heard the dial tone in my ear.”

“If he’s in trouble, why didn’t he just go to you?” Serena asked.

“Lady, if I could understand the way my brother thinks, the FBI would hire me in a New York minute.”

Serena’s eyes bulged. “You don’t mean that.”

Yeah, Darrell meant it. His brother would keep any criminal profiler in business just trying to figure him out. But he saw fear in Serena’s eyes at his implication that his brother was a career criminal, and he didn’t want her to lose any more sleep than she already had. So he said, “My brother probably didn’t come to me because I’m in Orlando. And I got the impression someone was after him and he needed to lay low for a while.”

“So this is serious?”

“Seems that way to me. Which is why I’m here. I expected to hear back from Cecil, and when I didn’t, I knew I had to come to Miami and look for him.”

Serena nodded. She’d do the same if her sister were in trouble. Glancing at Darrell’s small suitcase, she asked, “Where are you heading now?”

“To Cecil’s condo.”

Her eyes lit up. “You think he’s there?”

“No,” Darrell told her. “I’m certain he’s not there.”

The spark in her eyes fizzled. “So why are you going?”

“I need a place to stay. Plus I want to check it out for any possible clues as to where he might be now.”

She paused. “And how do you plan on getting in?”

“I have a key.”

“Oh,” Serena said. “Why?”

“Why all the questions?”

Serena shrugged. “From what you say, it doesn’t seem like you and Cecil are in touch all that often. You live in Orlando, he’s in Miami. I’m just wondering why you’d have a key.”

Most likely, she was wondering if he was lying to her about not knowing where his brother was. He answered, “Cecil has always given me keys to his places. One of those precautionary things, I guess—in case his antics land him in jail and he needs someone to water his plants.”

Serena frowned, letting him know she didn’t think he was being funny.

“My brother’s always inviting me to spend time with him,” Darrell continued in a serious tone. “Or at least come down here for a vacation. But since he’s such a hard guy to get ahold of, and he’s always on the go, he wanted me to have keys to his places so I wouldn’t be stuck waiting outside his door if I came to town and he wasn’t around.”

“That makes sense,” Serena said. “So you’re going there now?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” Serena dug her keys out of her purse. “I can give you a ride.”

“That’s not necessary,” Darrell quickly said. “I can catch a cab.”

“Where’s the condo?”

“On Ocean Drive.”

“That’s not far. I can take you.” Darrell flashed her a wary look, and Serena added, “I owe you that much. Probably even dinner.”

“A billboard announcing your error will be payback enough.” He gave her a wry smile.

She grinned back at him. “What do you say? Will you let me take you to your brother’s condo?”

“It’s really not necessary.”

“Okay,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ll be straight with you. If you’re going to look for Cecil, I want to help. And before you say anything,” she continued, holding up a hand, “I’m not going to take no for an answer. Because I want to be there when you find your brother. And then I want to wring his neck until he gives me back what’s mine.”

Darrell should have known it was too good to be true. Five minutes of sanity, and the crazy woman had reverted right back to being insane.

“What did you say you do?” he asked in a sardonic tone, staring down at her. She couldn’t be more than five foot five.

“I’m a librarian.”

“Right.” Darrell stretched the word out. “Maybe you went into the wrong profession. Ever consider wrestling?”

Serena made a face. “What, I don’t have a right to be angry?”

This wasn’t about her not having a right to be angry. It was about Darrell trying to reconcile the fact that the cute, seemingly demure woman who’d caught his eye at the restaurant yesterday wasn’t actually demure. Then again, maybe she was normally sweet as pie, but his
brother had brought out the worst in her. Lord knew Cecil had brought out the worst in so many people, including their father.

“Yeah, you have a right to be angry. You just…surprise me, that’s all.”

“I’m normally mild-mannered—until someone crosses me.” Serena punctuated her words with a saccharine-sweet smile.

Darrell gave her a slow once-over. The woman was an enigma, and not just because her demure appearance clearly hid a strong, determined side. What the hell had Cecil seen in her? Not that she wasn’t attractive, because she was, but she certainly wasn’t the type Cecil normally got involved with. She dressed simply, not flashy, and Cecil always went for flashy. Darrell guessed her to be in her late twenties, a little young compared to the women Cecil usually conned. His brother tended to date older women, often married, but women who easily spoke of money and class and appreciated the attention of a smooth-talking playboy.

But Cecil was a man, and when he wasn’t pulling a scam on a woman, he’d date a bombshell until he was bored, then move on to another one.

Which is exactly what bothered Darrell about his brother and Serena. Yes, she was attractive, but in a cute sort of way—not the sleazy way his brother appreciated.

So, how the hell had they ended up getting involved?

“Darrell?”

His eyes flew to hers. “Yeah?”

She gave him an odd look, clearly wondering what had been on his mind. After a moment, she shrugged. “So, what do you say? Can we work together? I know Miami. I
can help you look for him here. Take you to all the places you might not easily find. Besides, two heads are better than one.”

Darrell didn’t respond, contemplating the thought.

“No offense, but I’m really the one who ought to be wary,” Serena added. “Considering you
are
Cecil’s brother.”

“I’m nothing like my brother,” Darrell retorted.

Darrell’s quick answer made Serena think he’d been spouting that line his whole life, almost like a knee-jerk reaction. That, along with the way his jaw hardened and his body tensed, made Serena realize that she’d pushed one of his buttons. Which made her wonder what Darrell and Cecil’s relationship had been like growing up and how different they truly were. Judging by Darrell’s agitated demeanor, Serena guessed they were quite different, and that Darrell had often taken flack for his brother’s actions.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she told him.

“Maybe not, but your comment makes me think your suggestion is a bad idea. Like you said, I’m related to the guy who ripped you off. Why would you want to spend any time with me?”

“Because I’m desperate.”

“Oh, thanks,” Darrell replied wryly.

“I don’t mean…” She exhaled sharply. “Look, this isn’t the best situation for either of us. We don’t know each other. But we both want the same thing: to find Cecil. And I’m willing to work with you if you’re willing to work with me.”

“Is that so, Slugger?” Darrell raised an eyebrow, but grinned.

“I guess you’ll never let me live that down.”

“Hey, I like a woman who can protect me from the bad guys.”

“Oh, stop.” Serena felt embarrassed enough.

“I’m just playing with you.”

Darrell smiled down at her, a genuine smile, and Serena’s heart suddenly pounded so hard, it was like getting punched from the inside. She’d never had that reaction just from looking at a man, not even Cecil, and he was Darrell’s twin. Did that make sense?

No doubt about it, Darrell Montford was drop-dead-gorgeous-fine. He had a lady killer smile that lit up his bright brown eyes, coupled with an athletic body that boasted well-sculpted muscles in all the right places.

A soft breath oozed from her body.

Serena’s reaction to him surprised her. But it wasn’t only his physical qualities that were attractive, she realized a moment later. There was something else about him, something she inherently trusted.

And she couldn’t help wondering,
Why didn’t I meet him instead of Cecil?

God, what was she thinking? Hadn’t she learned her lesson yet? Cecil had been the first pretty boy to sweep her off her feet—and she’d fallen flat on her back. The last thing she wanted to do was make the same mistake again.

Especially with his brother.

His identical
twin
brother. How different could they be?

Which was why, though she knew she should simply give him her number and tell him to call her when he found Cecil, she wasn’t quite ready to say good-bye to Darrell. How could she trust him to keep his word and call her when he’d found him? Cecil could easily give him some cock and bull story that Darrell would want to
believe—perhaps even pass her off as a jealous ex. If that happened, Darrell would no doubt choose to believe his brother over her.

No, she needed to work with Darrell for her own peace of mind. Serena extended a hand. “Are we in this together?”

Darrell didn’t respond, merely looked at her, not sure what to do. What the hell was he in for if he agreed to work with her? But as Serena continued to extend her hand, Darrell finally reached out and took it in his. Her small hand almost got lost in his large one, and he couldn’t help wondering how something so small could pack such a strong wallop.

She was feisty, yes, but he also sensed a vulnerable side to her, and that vulnerability brought out a protective side in him.

His eyes caught hers, and she gave him a peculiar look. He realized he’d been holding her hand too long. Quickly, he shook then released it.

“All right,” he agreed. “I’ll work with you.”

He only hoped he didn’t live to regret this decision.

Shrugging into the collar of his Versace shirt, Cecil
hurried from his rented van toward the payphones outside the Publix grocery store. Throwing a quick glance over both shoulders gave him a modicum of relief. For a while, he’d thought the blue Neon had been following him, but now that he no longer saw it, he knew that wasn’t the case.

Thank God. The town of Kendall was a good thirty minutes from Miami Beach, which was where he normally spent most of his time, and he hoped to have anonymity here.

Cecil paused to let a woman and two small children cross his path before stepping onto the concrete sidewalk. A couple long strides and he was at one of the payphones lining the building’s wall. He lifted the receiver and brought it to his ear. Seconds later, he had an operator on the line.

“MCI operator. How may I help you?”

“I’d like to make a collect call,” Cecil told the woman, then gave her the number to his brother’s home in Orlando.

Cecil waited while the operator dialed Darrell’s line. It rang and rang, then the answering machine picked up.

“Sorry, sir. I’m getting a machine.”

“Try this number,” Cecil quickly said. “Make this one a person-to-person call to Darrell Montford.” He gave the operator the number to Sleep Well, the bed and breakfast his brother owned and operated.

A minute later, the operator told him, “I couldn’t reach Darrell Montford.”

Damn.
“All right.” Cecil moaned softly. “Thanks anyway.”

The operator disconnected, and Cecil hung up the phone. What was he supposed to do now? And where the hell was his brother? He’d been trying to reach him for a couple days, but to no avail. If there was one thing he could count on, it was being able to reach Darrell when he needed him. Darrell was reliable that way. If he wasn’t at work, then he was at home.

So where was he?

Cecil frowned at the phone. Darrell hadn’t been around for a couple days. If this were any of his male friends, he’d figure they were off with some honey somewhere. But Darrell wasn’t the type of guy to run off and leave his business for a rendezvous with a woman, at least not since his ex-fiancée Jessica.

But who knew? Life had a way of surprising you. Cecil certainly never expected to be in the predicament he was in now. So it wasn’t impossible that Darrell had finally fallen for someone else.

Cecil could almost be happy for him—if his disappearance hadn’t come at the most inopportune time. Given the fact that he couldn’t reach Eddie, Darrell was the only one who could possibly help him now.

Gritting his teeth, Cecil dug some change out of his pocket. He’d try Eddie once again. He hoped to hell that he was home now, and that he had the answers he needed. Eddie might not like having to deal with this situation, but the way Cecil saw it, Eddie owed him. If it wasn’t for him, Cecil wouldn’t be in this whole mess.

“C’mon, Eddie. Pick up the damn phone.” But one ring turned to two, then to three. Then to four. And it kept ringing. God, didn’t he even have his machine on now?

Cecil disconnected, gathered his change, then dialed Eddie’s cell phone number. If Eddie was on the road, he’d be sure to have his cell with him.

But after four rings, his voicemail came on. “I’m busy. Leave a message.”

“Yo, Eddie,” Cecil said, his tone urgent. “You know who this is. Look, I need to talk to you. You have to let me know if you got that jewelry back, man. My ass is on the line here. For real. If I don’t get that jewelry back—and I mean yesterday—I’m gonna end up as gator food.” The very thought made a chill run down his spine. “All right. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll try you again in a few hours. Please be around.”

Then Cecil slammed down the receiver, a sick feeling spreading in his gut. Eddie had been AWOL for a good thirty-six hours. Cecil knew he was head-over-heels for Sheila, the new woman he was seeing, and yeah, he could understand him spending all his time with her. But hell, Cecil had left a few messages for Eddie already, so he had to know he was urgently trying to reach him. If he hadn’t
spent the last thirty-six hours in a body-lock with Sheila—and he couldn’t imagine that—then why wasn’t he answering his cell?

Cecil could think of only two answers to that question. Either Eddie was dead, or he was avoiding him. Cecil doubted the former, but he could easily picture the latter. As the saying went, there was no honor among thieves. Either way, the fact that he hadn’t heard from Eddie meant bad news.

“Shit,” Cecil mumbled, then leaned against the wall. How on earth had he gotten caught up in this whole scam, anyway? He’d been at one of his favorite Miami Beach night spots, hoping to meet a new woman, when Eddie had sat next to him at the bar. After sitting in silence for some time, Eddie had turned to him and asked if he had a light. Cecil didn’t, because he didn’t smoke, but Eddie’s question had broken the ice. They’d started talking, and had instantly hit it off.

Cecil wasn’t sure why Eddie had sat next to him nor why they’d started talking, but he had entertained the thought that fate had played a role in it all. At first, it had seemed like an incredible stroke of luck that he should meet a guy like Eddie, because he’d needed a new way to make a buck, and Eddie had provided that. In hindsight, Cecil couldn’t help wondering if Eddie had scoped him out because he recognized in Cecil a quality he had himself—the ability to con.

Shortly into their talk that evening, Eddie had flat out told Cecil that he only dated women who could give him things—material things. Cecil was pleasantly surprised to learn that he and Eddie had that in common. Eddie had said, “Some might call me a con artist, but hey, so be it. At
least I’m driving a Porsche.” They’d both laughed, then had shared stories about their “conquests” and all the goods they’d received from horny older women.

Cecil didn’t particularly like the words “con artist.” It wasn’t that he had
planned
to use women for what they could give him, it had just happened that way. For whatever reason, older women found him attractive—older women who were usually looking for a boy toy. Connie, the first older woman he’d dated, had been married, like most of them after her. In the beginning, the fact that she’d been married had disturbed him, but Connie had lavished him with gifts every time he told her he thought they shouldn’t continue their relationship. He’d meant it, but her gifts had kept him around. Who wouldn’t stick around when someone bought you a sports car, or gave you a couple grand to go shopping?

At first, Cecil hadn’t felt that great about himself, because every time he accepted a gift from Connie, he felt he was leading her on. But then he’d realized the truth: Connie wasn’t in love with him any more than he was with her. She simply liked having him around, so much so that she’d bought him the condo on the beach so they could spend more time together outside of hotels. It was an expensive gift, yes, but why should he say no? She was using him for what he had to give, so why not accept what she could give him?

If a woman wanted to spend money on him and give him gifts, why shouldn’t he let them? It wasn’t his fault women wanted him so badly they’d do anything to keep him hanging around. Connie had opened him up to a whole new world in his early twenties, and it suited him fine. The best part was, after only six months of seeing
her, Connie and her husband had moved to France. And he’d gotten to keep the condo. Not bad for six months of his time.

Some people might say he was shallow, but at least he wasn’t the one breaking any vows. And he
did
have to worry about jealous husbands coming after him if his trysts with their wives were ever discovered. So there was a certain amount of risk to pleasing women like Connie. Why not get paid for his efforts?

And as for those who said he was shallow, yeah, he specifically sought out women who looked like they were made of money, and maybe he even gave them some hard luck stories to entice them to part with their husbands’ well-earned bucks—but didn’t women look for sugar-daddies all the time? No doubt his mother had. Surely what was good for the goose was good for the gander.

But accepting lavish gifts from women without any remorse had pretty much been the extent of Cecil’s under-handed ways. Until he’d met Eddie. After hitting it off at the bar and learning that they were both smooth-talking playboys, Eddie had griped that he wasn’t able to adequately maintain the lifestyle to which he’d become accustomed because women were tighter with their wallets these days—didn’t Cecil agree? Hell yeah, Cecil agreed. That’s when Eddie had told Cecil about his sure-fire plan to make mega dollars. In fact, Eddie had already been doing it for a while. Things had been going so well that he now needed a partner to help him keep up with the demand.

The plan, as Eddie had explained it to Cecil, was easy. Steal expensive jewelry from their well-to-do lovers and replace them with fakes. For several months, Eddie had been working with a guy who was an expert at making
stunning fake jewelry based on the real pieces. Eddie had assured Cecil that he’d been doing it for a while without any problems and had made a fortune.

Well, Cecil was always open to new ideas, so he’d figured, why not give it a try? Again, he’d thought fate must have brought him and Eddie together. Why else meet Eddie at a time when he needed a new way to earn quick money?

He and Eddie had shook on it, agreeing to be partners.

Shortly after that, Cecil had met Tamara at the Delano on South Beach, a spot frequented by those with money to burn. The thirty-five-year-old bombshell had been immediately receptive to his charm. Cecil had struck up a conversation with her not only because she was stunning, but because she’d been wearing beautiful jewelry. Cecil had complimented her on it, and she’d proudly proclaimed that the diamonds and sapphires were real.

Tamara hadn’t waited more than five minutes before telling him how unhappily married she was—so Cecil had bought her a drink to help her drown her sorrows. Then another. Soon, she was throwing herself at him like a wanton hussy. Again, Cecil had complimented her jewelry. Tamara then bragged that she had a safe full of expensive jewelry at home—compliments of her ancient, impotent husband.

Because she’d given him a sly grin, Cecil had laughed, and so had Tamara. “Well, he’s not exactly impotent,” Tamara had amended. “But viagara ain’t exactly helping Lionel’s problem, if you hear what I’m saying.”

“I hear you,” Cecil said, chuckling. “Okay, so he’s not quite impotent. But he’s really ancient?”

Tamara laughed long and loud like an idiot, clearly drunk. “Oh, yeah. He’s ancient.”

“How old
is
he?”

“Eighty-one.”

“Wow.” Cecil blew out a low whistle. “That’s old.”

“I know. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Tamara rested a hand on the stunning diamond and sapphire necklace gracing her long, slim neck. Then she flashed Cecil another sly grin—which told him she’d known exactly what she’d been thinking when she married Lionel.

“How long you been married?” Cecil asked.

“Seven years. Since I was twenty-eight.”

“Holy.”

Tamara speared the olive in her martini and brought it to her lips, letting her tongue play over it before she took it into her mouth.

Instantly, Cecil was hard. Not even a monk would have been unaffected by her charm.

But Cecil played dumb, once again discussing her marriage. “Well, you’re still together. So many couples don’t make it past the two-year itch.” Cecil raised an eyebrow. “True love, I’m sure.”

In response, Tamara tilted her head to the side and gave him a slow once-over, biting her bottom lip as she did.

True love his ass. But he was having fun playing this game. “So, Lionel…has he always had…a problem?”

Tamara raised her eyes to Cecil’s, giving him a level stare. “If you’re asking whether or not he’s ever fucked me right, the answer is no.”

Tamara’s vulgarity shocked Cecil, but it also turned him on. “Sorry to hear that.” He sipped his scotch, wetting his throat. “Must be hard.”

“Honey, if it was hard, that would have been a start.” Tamara erupted in giggles, then downed the dregs of her
martini. As her laughter faded, she added sadly, “God, it’s been a
nightmare
,” as if she’d always been faithful to her sexually challenged husband.

“A beautiful woman like you…” Cecil
tsked
. “I can’t imagine you living without sex.” He ran a finger along her palm in a circular pattern. “
Very
good sex. You strike me as a very passionate person who has a lot to give.”

“Baby, you don’t know the kind of passion I’ve got pent up after all these years.”

“I can imagine.”

Boldly, Tamara trailed her fingers up his thigh. “Why imagine?”

Before Cecil could answer, Tamara had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him silly.

Cecil couldn’t have asked for an easier mark. And it was a bonus that she was gorgeous. Sleeping with her was easy—not to mention pretty damn incredible. She had an insatiable sexual appetite, as if she hadn’t been laid right in several years.

There was no doubt she was smitten with him. And not only could Tamara not get enough of him, she liked living on the edge. She’d sneak him into her Star Island home when the husband was gone for a few hours; often, Cecil barely escaped in the nick of time. And when her husband was out of town, she had Cecil over the moment he was gone, as if his name was on the deed to the million-dollar property.

After a three-day lovemaking marathon one time when her husband was away, Cecil had finally gotten up the nerve to break into Tamara’s safe and take a few of her more expensive jewelry items.

Eddie had been very pleased.

So had Cecil. The pieces had netted them over one hundred and forty thousand dollars. And after a good week, Cecil had thought he was home free—until Tamara had noticed that the jewelry was missing. Cecil had quickly admitted to taking the pieces, but had assured her he’d done so to have them cleaned. Why hadn’t he told her? Tamara had asked. Why sneak into her safe? Well, because it was going to be a surprise, of course, Cecil had lied. Then he’d slipped his hand beneath her skirt and quickly gotten her excited. She wouldn’t ask any more questions in bed.