Switching Mercedes [Wylde Shore 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Read online

  Mercedes couldn’t stay in the car a moment longer. She rubbed the sides of her arms as a chill raced through her body, not the first since she’d arrived at the scene. A uniformed officer intercepted her quest to reach a sunny position near the fence at the front of the house.

  “Are you all right Ms. Harris-Shore?” His concerned tone wasn’t lost on her. “You’re looking a little shaky.”

  Well, der, one of my girls has been murdered and I’m not used to being present at crime scenes. “I’m fine, just a little cold in the car. Thank you for your concern.”

  What else could she say? Not only had she promised Christian she’d behave, she really didn’t have the energy to deal with stupid today.

  Mercedes was in fact shaky, as Constable Obvious had stated. The move to the outside did nothing to ease her increasing sense of get-the-hell-out-of-here. The hairs on the back of her neck refused to go down and a periodic tingle across her shoulders enflamed the growing knot in the pit of her stomach. Now she was out of the car, the thought of someone watching her increased to a fever pitch. A bright, sunny afternoon in a quiet suburb of Sydney shouldn’t radiate the sinister atmosphere assailing her.

  Mercedes startled when Christian appeared at her side. Having been so absorbed in the notion someone had her in their sights, she’d failed to notice her brother’s approach. Maybe he had been the one watching her, although Christian and sinister were not a combination that went hand in hand.

  “Before you come inside to see Samantha I need to ask you a couple of things.” It was only then Mercedes noticed the other officer from major crime standing near Christian, notepad in hand.

  “Sure, what do you want to know?” Mercedes hoped she’d have the answers. She knew Sam well but didn’t know everything about her life.

  “Does Samantha have any family who should be notified, a next of kin we can contact for formal identification?” Mercedes shook her head as her brother asked the question she should have realized would be one of his first, identifying the body.

  “No, Samantha grew up as a ward of the state, she didn’t have any family.” Mercedes drew in a steadying breath. “The other workers and I…well…I’ve been looking out for her since she started working for me five years ago.”

  “In that case I need you to formally identify her.” Mercedes nodded her agreement. It was the least she could do for Samantha. “Also, I assume you’ve visited Samantha at home before so, if you feel up to it, I’d like you to have a look around to see if anything appears to be out of place or missing.”

  “Um, sure. I can do both those things.”

  Christian placed a steadying hand on her arm, leading her toward the house.

  Mercedes’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might explode and with every step closer to the home her chest tightened, as if in a vice. She could do this. She had to do this. Samantha was her responsibility, both as an employee and a friend. Mercedes would not desert her now.

  A chill rushed through her when she entered the house. A trolley with Samantha’s covered body sat in the foyer, two coroner’s staff standing beside it. One of them unzipped the bag covering the young woman, exposing Samantha’s face. Mercedes didn’t try to withhold the jagged gasp at the sight greeting her. A bruise marred the young worker’s face, her skin pale. Mercedes reach forward to stroke Samantha’s cheek only to be stopped by Christian.

  “She hasn’t been fully processed for evidence, sis. You can’t touch her.” Mercedes nodded her understanding, placing her hand on the side of the metal gurney, stepping closer to her friend. “Is this Samantha, Mercedes?”

  “Yes, yes it is.” Her eyes didn’t leave Samantha’s face as she blinked back tears. “Christian will find out who did this, Samantha. I won’t let you be forgotten, sweet woman.” Her softly spoken words seemed to fall short as she fought the urge to reach out again, needing to hug the lifeless form, to tell her she was here for her, that she’d take care of everything. As the bag was zipped up and Samantha wheeled away, Mercedes gripped Christian’s hand tightly. She needed to ground herself to someone real, feeling as though, if she didn’t, she could shatter into a million pieces. How could this be happening?

  “Are you all right to look through the house now?”

  Mercedes summoned a nod, worried that if she spoke, her answer would be no, get me out of here, I can’t do this. “Just tell me if anything looks out of place or you think anything might be missing.”

  Most of the house appeared as it always did. The upstairs bedrooms, plus the bathroom of the tiny terrace, were pristine, no mess or clutter, everything in its place. Samantha’s jewelry cases were untouched and her work clothes remained laid out on the bed ready for her to wear. Downstairs was almost as tidy. Samantha’s bag, still with her personal items including her purse inside, hung along her jacket on the wooden coat rack near the front door. Her house keys sat in a decorative glass dish on the hall table, next to a picture of Samantha with some of the girls from work taken on a night out a few years ago. Mercedes assumed the attacker must have entered through the back door leading into the kitchen. There were fragments of wood on the floor and the doorjamb where the lock had splintered. A dining chair was overturned, and a vase lay sideways on the table, flowers eased out of it with a water stain stretching along the wooden surface, as if pointing to a puddle on the floor.

  “Samantha doesn’t normally keep her carving knife there.” She pointed to the razor-sharp implement on the floor, knowing she stated the obvious but saying it anyway. “It’s kept in the knife block on the bench.”

  “We assume she grabbed it to try and defend herself.” Christian remained all business. “Does that ring true as the sort of action Samantha would take?”

  “Absolutely, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.” Samantha might have been a submissive but she wasn’t a doormat. Submission, even at the Gentleman’s Club, was offered to a dominant, not taken or forced on someone. All Mercedes’s girls, whether submissive or dominant, knew how to defend themselves. A standard practice for everyone working for her included being trained in first aid and self defense, or they didn’t work at the club.

  “I thought as much.” The tone in Christian’s voice didn’t match the concerned look filling his face causing Mercedes to wonder why, the answer came all too quickly as Christian took hold of both her hands, staring down at her. “I’m about to take you into the living room, you may find what you see confronting. If you feel you don’t want to see what’s there then we can just leave now.”

  Oh god, did she want to see what awaited in there? It might have been easier to not receive the warning in the first place.

  “No it’s okay, I can do this.” She said the words more for herself than her brother.

  Three burly officers who blocked the entrance to the living area when they’d initially walked down the hallway moved aside as they approached. Flashes of red filled her view, registering a horror she now realized she didn’t want to see. Blood spattered the far wall, furniture was upturned, and two large metal spikes protruded from the stucco with a message scrawled near them. Adrian’s Redemption.

  The room began to swirl as her legs buckled beneath her. Someone caught her, lifted her up, and carried her from the room.

  After depositing her in the ambulance and demanding the medic take good care of his sister, Christian disappeared back inside the house briefly before returning to the ambulance. He stared through the open back doors of the vehicle, his worried expression more firmly etched into his face than before.

  “Clearly I’m not as tough as I think I am.” The ambulance officer removed the blood pressure cuff from her arm before informing Christian all her vital signs were normal, assuring him Mercedes would be fine. Mercedes would normally chastise the young man for talking about her like she was invisible, but today she chose to ignore his actions instead.

  “That scene is enough to shock any one of us. The difference is, for better or worse, we’re acclimatized to it, whereas
you’re not.”

  Mercedes sipped the sickly sweet orange-flavored concoction the young medic had given her. “I shouldn’t have let you go in there, obviously poor judgment on my part. I’m sorry, Mercedes.”

  “Don’t feel bad, Christian. I said I was okay and, despite my little knee-buckling hiccup, according to junior over there, I am.” Mercedes gestured to the ambulance officer.

  “Do you have any idea who Adrian might be? Could it be a client, a boyfriend, a relative to Samantha?”

  “I’m not familiar with the name. I’ve never heard her mention anyone called Adrian. Maybe it’s the name of the animal who did this to her. He might have some perverted sense that killing people will redeem him from something.” She gave a weary shrug. “The world is full of strange people believing all sorts of bizarre shit. You should know that.”

  “Unfortunately I do.” Christian’s calm tone amazed her. How could he do this on a regular basis without becoming disillusioned with the world? “We’ll need to check any client connections and speak to the other staff. I’ll just finish up here, and then I’ll take you home.”

  As Christian walked back toward the house, Mercedes’s thoughts settled firmly on her business. She’d have to call a staff meeting, informing everyone what had happened. How was she going to break the news to them, the majority of whom were dominant personalities who protected their submissive colleagues with a vengeance? She hadn’t lied to Christian when she’d said the workers were Samantha’s family. They were all family to each other. They shared a workplace, a lifestyle, and friendships. They were each other’s support network, and Samantha’s loss would devastate them all in different ways.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a commotion taking place on the far side of the taped-off area of the house. The yellow tape began to flap in the breeze, and officers tried to block access to the scene as a Hercules of Scandinavian appearance barreled his way through their defenses. Mercedes smiled when she heard her name.

  “Where is she? Mercedes Harris-Shore, I demand to see her now.” His command boomed out for all to hear in a deep baritone that sent an erotic chill down her spine.

  “Do you know him? Should I lock the ambulance doors or tell him you’re over here? He seems really…terrifying. Is he your boyfriend or something?”

  She nearly lost track of the young ambulance officer’s rapidly fired questions, too intrigued by the circus unfolding before them.

  “Yes, he’s something all right.” Mercedes nearly laughed at the terrified look on the medic’s face. “Oh, and don’t worry, we’re not in any danger.”

  Zane reminded her of a Viking. Tall, with the broadest shoulders of any man she knew. She watched as muscles rippled beneath the tight black T-shirt he wore, as he swatted uniformed officers away like they were flies. His shoulder-length blond hair, usually neatly combed, swung freely around his face, his strong, square jaw set firm with dogged determination as he worked his way to the front steps of the house, attempting to get inside.

  “Would you like me to tell him you’re over here?” the medic asked, an edge of concern in his tone as they watched Zane grab an officer from the front line of defense, lifting him off his feet with ease.

  “Where. Is. She?” The larger-than-average uniformed officer hung in the air like a rag doll at the mercy of a petulant toddler.

  “No, he’ll find me soon enough. He always does.” Mercedes watched the action with delight. Not only was he divine to look at, but he knew how to make her laugh. Even when he was being an infuriating jerk, she found him amusing. If he’d just stop being so dominantly determined she’d be his submissive then he’d be the perfect man for her. After all, what woman wouldn’t want a sexy, bad-boy Viking to come to her rescue? It was certainly better than any puny Prince Charming or a clunky knight in shining armor.

  “Put that officer down, Zane Reynolds, before one of my guys shoots you.” Christian’s voice matched Zane’s for volume as he stepped through the doorway and onto the veranda.

  “Excellent, Christian Shore, just the man to give me the answers I need.” Zane dropped the young policeman before walking toward her brother. “Where is Mercedes?”

  “Once you’ve assured yourself my sister is fine I want you back over here explaining exactly how you found out she was here.” Christian spoke in his don’t-fuck-with-me tone as he pointed toward the ambulance.

  It didn’t appear Zane even heard what her brother said because the moment their gazes met Zane stalked toward her, a deep frown creasing his normally relaxed brow.

  “Why are you in an ambulance—are you injured?” The ambulance dipped under his weight as he climbed in beside her, meticulously eyeing her for injuries.

  “I’m fine. I got upset when I found out what happened to Samantha, so Christian suggested I sit with the medic.” She glared over at the young medic hoping he read the tell-this-guy-nothing look she flashed him. The last thing she needed was for Zane to discover she’d fainted. She maintained a case of show no weakness in relation to Zane, and Mercedes wanted to keep it that way.

  In less time than it took to blink, Mercedes found herself perched on Zane’s lap, pressed firmly against his hard chest, his strong arms wrapped around her like a protective shield. Her body warmed instantly, unaware she’d been cold. Frazzled nerves calmed as she rested her head against his chest listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. She wanted to wrap her arms around him in return, resting in the cocoon of safety he’d covered her in, but that wasn’t how they rolled and she knew it.

  “Of course you were upset. Anyone would be under these circumstances.” His rich, smooth voice and understanding words soothed her weary nerves.

  How did he know she needed him, that she wanted to be held and comforted after all she’d witnessed today? How did he always know when to show up, cheering her day, offering support, or annoying the shit out of her then making her laugh? More importantly, why did she always push him away? Her fingers rested on the leather belt at his waist. All she had to do was put her arms around him, accepting the embrace. Then he blew it, like he always did.

  “You don’t have to worry about a thing, sweetheart, I’m here now. I’ll take care of everything.”

  Like hell. As if she needed anyone to look after her. Why couldn’t he say tell me what you need me to do or we’ll work this out together.

  “Let me go, you damned arrogant Neanderthal.” Hands, which only moments ago she’d considered reaching around his waist to hold him, now pushed against him, as she tried to free herself from his arms. “When will you get it around your pea-sized brain that I don’t need you to take care of anything? Men! Just because you could overpower me in a minute doesn’t mean I’m a weakling needing your assistance. Oh, and just so we’re clear, I am not your sweetheart.”

  Zane let her go, staring at her with wry amusement as she berated him. He always did that and it made her even more annoyed.

  “I was just giving you a hug because you looked like you could use one.” He climbed out of the back of the ambulance, offering her his hand to help her down.

  “If I wanted something to hug I’d buy a teddy bear.” Mercedes stared at his hand then reached out and accepted the offering.

  “You really are the most stubborn woman I know, Mercedes.” He raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “It would destroy me if anything happened to you, so I’ll always protect you…sweetheart.”

  “I told you, I am not your sweetheart.” Mercedes poked her finger into Zane’s chest, emphasizing each word as she did. The idiot just laughed at her, which infuriated her more than the fact he hadn’t listened the first time she’d said the words.

  “Oh yes you are, you’re just not ready to admit to it…yet.” He turned, walking over to Christian, leaving her standing by the ambulance, the chill of being alone settling into her bones once more. She hated when Zane was right. As her mother constantly told her, Zane Reynolds was a good catch, and Mercedes shouldn’t let him get away. She watc
hed him talking to her brother, answering the question once again swirling through her mind. What sort of woman wouldn’t want a bad-boy Viking like Zane Reynolds in her life?

  A woman like me, I guess.

  Chapter Two

  Zane wanted to thump his fist into the air as a sign of victory, perform cartwheels, and shout for joy, but he realized those actions would be totally inappropriate under the current circumstances. Holding Mercedes in his arms, quietly nestled against his chest, surpassed his wildest imaginings. The soft contours of her body calmly settled next to his harder physique, confirming they were the perfect fit for each other. The miraculous part of it all, she hadn’t resisted him. In fact, at one point he thought she may even return the embrace, enabling him to comfort her for more than just the few minutes she’d allowed. Unlike those around him, today was the happiest day in Zane’s life so far, although instead of overt rejoicing of the cartwheel kind, he simply chose not to conceal the broad, toothy grin on his face as he approached the only person here with the potential to ruin his day.

  “What have you got to smile about, Zane, I should arrest you for assaulting police.” Superintendant Christian Shore stood on the sidewalk, arms folded over his chest, looking decidedly unimpressed. Zane was about to undergo the third degree from his friend, but he didn’t care, Mercedes had been in his arms, so nothing else mattered right now.

  “I’m smiling because I’ve just been holding the woman I love and nothing you say can ruin that for me, so do what you must.”

  Worst-case scenario, his friend would arrest him for assault, not that any of the officers had been injured. He’d barely touched the men, a shove here, a push there. Lifting the guy off his feet to dangle him in the air may have been a bit of an overreaction, but it got the boss’s attention so the tactic paid off. If Christian had been able to calm the gaggle of cops down, Zane would be looking at his best case scenario and preferred option—a warning, something along the lines of, your actions were inappropriate so don’t do it again.