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  “If you can imagine Shonda Rhimes (GREY'S ANATOMY, SCANDAL) writing a White Lesbian cop drama, then you've pretty much got the tone of this entry in the San Francisco Mystery Series by Alexi Venice. It's got grue, cop work, interagency pissing matches, North Korean Villainy (because what's a cop drama without The Fiendish Whiff of Fu Manchu?), sex scenes, violence, and as much Soap Opera as a typical Shondaland Production…like the Shonda Rhimes shows I mentioned above, the story's ridiculously addictive, the characters engaging enough that you hope for the best and expect the worst, and it's certainly never dull.”

  Bookbub – D Binder for Stabscotch (April 2018)

  “All four books are 5 Star! If you love women and you love San Francisco, there is absolutely nothing better than this series. Some of the best writing available to LGBTQ readers, this story really does have it all - mystery, action, narrative, rhythm, characters you love and hate, and GREAT sex scenes. This writer very accurately describes the intense emotions and inner thoughts of two women in love.”

  Amazon 5 stars - PJC for Tinted Chapstick (May 23, 2018)

  

  Copyright © 2018 Alexi Venice. All rights reserved.

  Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com

  http://www.eBookIt.com

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-3172-7

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, corporations, countries, medicines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Professionally edited by Rob Bignell at Inventing Reality Editing Service. inventingrealityediting.wordpress.com/home

  Books by Alexi Venice

  The San Francisco Mystery Series

  Bourbon Chase, Book 1

  Amanda’s Dragonfly, Book 2

  Stabscotch, Book 3

  Tinted Chapstick, Book 4

  Sativa Strain, Book 5

  Empty Nest Does Not Mean Naked Nest!

  The book based on Venice’s blog by the same name.

  The Pepper McCallan Series

  Ebola Vaccine Wars

  Svea’s Sins

  Victus – Margaret River Winery (Part I)

  Margaret River Winery (Part II)

  Venice also writes a blog called Empty Nest Does Not Mean Naked NestTM

  Dedicated to those who struggle with addiction and those who love them.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 1

  San Francisco

  Sunset District

  “I still can’t believe someone stole the burner phone from my clutch at the election party.” Amanda paced Jen’s bedroom, her long, black curls turbaned in one towel and another wrapped around her petite body.

  “It’s been a month,” Jen said. “No one has tried to blackmail you, so I think it was lost, not stolen. It’s probably in a landfill somewhere.” Scribbling on the notepad resting on her knees, Jen didn’t bother looking up. She vigorously erased a word, blew the erasure marks, then carefully studied the phrase to consider what word would take its place.

  “You don’t understand. Every day I live in fear that my nude selfie will be plastered all over the Internet.” Amanda dropped her towels on the floor, her magnificent nude body interrupting Jen’s concentration.

  “At this point, who cares? You won the election. Besides, you’re fucking hot in that pic.” Jen set her notepad aside and spread her arms.

  “Do you think?” Amanda peeled back the blanket and eased herself on top of Jen.

  “You know I do.”

  She searched Jen’s eyes. Satisfied that Jen meant what she said, Amanda leaned down and nibbled on Jen’s sumptuous lower lip, slowly drawing it into her mouth. She was rewarded with Jen’s strong hands on her bare ass, kneading, as Jen pulled her closer.

  “Don’t get me going, I have a meeting I can’t miss,” Amanda whispered against Jen’s mouth.

  Jen exhaled an Are-you-fucking-kidding-me? sigh. “You’re the one who jumped on top of me.”

  “Only because you’re so affectionate in the morning.” Amanda saw a playful glint in Jen’s eyes and rethought the meeting.

  Jen moved her fingers to Amanda’s thighs, tickling her way to the enchanted contours that brought Amanda so much pleasure. Amanda purred like a cat and writhed against Jen’s hand. Fuck being on time. When Jen found what she was looking for, Amanda spasmed in surrender, allowing the electric jolt to travel down to her toes. “Oh, God…”

  “Is this what you’re looking for?” Jen whispered. She swirled her tongue in Amanda’s ear while playing with her gem so deftly that Amanda’s insides coiled into a knot of ravenous desire. Tumbling and rolling, she lost her bearings while focusing on Jen’s touch. A wave of delicious pleasure overtook her, and a long minute later, she washed ashore in a limp heap. Satisfied.

  Feeling guilty that she didn’t have the time to return the favor, Amanda lay atop Jen for a few minutes to catch her breath. “Thank you. That was the bomb.”

  “You’re such a turn-on when you come for me like that.” Jen massaged Amanda’s lower back.

  “Masterful,” Amanda sighed. “I’m a slave to your every desire.”

  “Remember that tonight.” Jen kissed the top of Amanda’s head through her thick curls. “Didn’t you say you have a meeting?”

  “I do, but I’m paralyzed from the waist down.” Amanda raised her head from Jen’s chest, her eyes dancing like the devil’s. “Think of your favorite fantasy, and I’ll make it come true tonight.”

  Jen squinted. “Promises, promises.”

  Amanda looked into Jen’s blue eyes, dark with lust. “You have my word.”

  “Well, then. I might have to shop for an outfit for you.”

  Amanda’s pulse quickened, errant thoughts flooding her mind. “Now I’ll obsess all day about what you have in store for me.”

  “Good. That’s what I want you thinking about while you’re at work,” Jen kissed Amanda’s forehead. “Will you be home in time for dinner tonight?”

  “I don’t know what my afternoon schedule looks like, and I have to swing by my house to get some clothes.” Amanda buried her face in Jen’s neck, giving her one last kiss, then sat up. She picked up her towels. They were, literally, her towels, since she had brought them over, preferring her extra soft bath towels to Jen’s.

  “Kristin and I will be here. I invited Tommy and Cy for dinner too. Is that okay with you?”

  “Of course. You know how I feel about them. Anytime.” Amanda walked to the bathroom to do hair and makeup.

  “I was thinking of making a lasagna,” Jen said from bed.

  �
�I love everything you make. Want me to pick up a bottle of Chianti and bread from Molinari’s?”

  “Tommy and Cy are bringing those. Besides, you seem really busy, and a tad distracted, with work.”

  Amanda peeked her head around the doorjamb. “Really? How can you tell?”

  “For starters, Westway Animal Hospital called me—again—and said they’ve been calling you to pick up Zane’s ashes for three weeks.”

  Amanda’s stomach flipped. She dropped her toothbrush in a cup and returned to the bed. “I’m so sorry. They’re always closed when I come home. I need to swing by on my way to work—or maybe at noon. I want to spare you the trauma of doing that, but now I’ve caused more pain for you. I’ll do it this week. I promise.”

  “I understand. I know your life is crazy. Why don’t I just do it?” Jen said softly.

  Amanda ran her knuckles down the side of Jen’s face. “No. I promised, so I will. Trust me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Amanda returned to the bathroom. “It’s the least I can do. You’ve been through enough.” Jen and Kristin had survived a terrorist attack, but Zane had been shot and died, and Grandpa Cy had taken a bullet to his stomach.

  “Uh-huh,” Jen said.

  Amanda could hear Jen opening a drawer and getting dressed. “Are you going to CrossFit this morning?”

  “Yeah. I have to be at Tommy’s in 30 minutes to pick up Kristin. He said he has to be to work early. Something important, I guess.”

  “We’re going to the same meeting,” Amanda pulled a dress over her head and turned her back to Jen for a zip.

  Jen zipped, hooked the clasp, and kissed Amanda’s neck.

  Amanda’s phone chimed with a text. “Shit. Frank is already here. I gotta run. Can I steal a banana?”

  “Of course.” Jen followed Amanda to the kitchen.

  Amanda filled a glass of water and removed a square bottle of pills from her bag. She shook one out and popped it in her mouth. After she washed it down, she smiled at Jen. “Zantac. My stomach is killing me lately.”

  “Did you see Susan?” Jen asked, referring to Amanda’s therapist.

  “She’s the one who suggested Zantac.”

  “Take it easy on the coffee. That might help.”

  Amanda grabbed her bag and tossed her iPad into it. “I love you. See you tonight.”

  Jen gave her a peck. “Love you too. Bye.”

  Amanda rushed out of Jen’s small apartment and ran down the steps to the lobby. She pushed through the doors into the cold, damp air, heavy with the fog that had rolled in overnight. Frank opened the back door of her burgundy Jaguar as soon as she hit the sidewalk. “Good morning, Amanda.”

  “Good morning.” She slid into the back seat, where there was a hot cup of coffee in the drink holder. Aw, Frank. What would I do without you?

  He got in behind the wheel. “To the Hall of Justice?”

  “The one and only.”

  “When I picked up your car, I fed Zumba and let him in the house, I hope that’s okay,” he said, referring to Amanda’s cat who liked to prowl the Sea Cliff neighborhood by night and sleep in her house during the day.

  “That’s perfect. Thank you. I’ll let him out tonight after work. Family dinner at Jen’s, and I’m staying overnight at her place again.”

  “I’ll bring you.”

  “Thanks. Living in Sea Cliff but sleeping in the Sunset District is taking a toll. I can’t remember where my stuff is, and I’m running late all the time. I’m horribly disorganized, which isn’t my nature. You know that about me, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Good.” She sipped the coffee that he had bought at her Joe’s Coffee Shop on Geary Boulevard—her go-to pit stop. He even mixed in the right portions of cream and sugar. I appreciate you more every day, Frank.

  “How is the house remodel coming?” he asked pleasantly, his calm demeanor having a soothing effect.

  “Pretty well. Mom and dad found the best property. Solid three-story, but it needed updating. I think the cabinets are being delivered today, and the trim is going in this week.” She and Frank drove by the beachside house her parents had purchased in the Sunset District, only a few blocks from Jen’s apartment. Amanda’s plan was to surprise Jen with it, so they could live together as a family.

  “Don’t rush the finishing work. That’s the stuff you notice when you enter a house,” Frank said.

  “So true.” She admired the bits and pieces of advice Frank dispensed from the front seat while driving her around San Francisco. She thought she’d never like a driver as much as she had liked George Banks, who was killed in a shootout with the mob, but Frank had worked his way into her heart. In contrast to George, Frank was a swarthy-looking man who usually wore sunglasses and black suits. His jet black hair was combed straight back, wise-guy style. Despite his rough appearance, Amanda had noticed that he lit up around Kristin and was incredibly kind to Zumba.

  ***

  “Will you be going out again this morning?” Frank asked, as they drove into the small parking lot for top officials behind the Hall of Justice.

  “No. I have meetings here. Which reminds me, do you have time to do me a huge favor and run an errand this morning?” she asked in desperation.

  “What would that be?”

  “There’s a veterinary clinic in Pacific Heights called Westway Animal Hospital. They have Zane’s ashes ready for pick-up. I just can’t seem to find the time to detour over there, and it’s always closed when I leave work. Would you be so kind as to help me out?”

  “Of course. Are the ashes in an urn, or would you like me to pick up one of those, too?”

  “Um. I don’t know. If they aren’t in an urn, would you see if they have something suitable?”

  “Of course. Not my first rodeo.”

  Amanda tilted her head in appreciation, and their eyes met in the rearview mirror. “How long have you been my driver and security detail?”

  “Six months now.” His eyes crinkled in a smile.

  “Wow. That went fast. You do waay more than what’s required, so I’m going to pay you a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty. I’d appreciate it if we kept it just between us.”

  “Done.”

  Not even a flinch. “Would you prefer cash or a check?”

  “Cash if you have it on hand.”

  Smooth. “I’ll have it in the next few days. In the meantime, here’s some cash for the coffee this morning and the ashes and urn at the vet. I’m thinking of getting you a credit card for expenses like these. How would you feel about that?”

  “If it makes your life easier,” he said.

  Polished. “Excellent. Glad we had this opportunity to talk.”

  “Me too. Will that be all?”

  “Yes.”

  He opened his door and jumped out. Before opening Amanda’s door, he glanced around the parking lot and sides of the building, always on the lookout for potential threats. Seeing none, he opened her door and stayed by her side, as he escorted her up the steps to the rear entry of the Hall. He blocked her from view while sliding his key card through the entry pad then accompanied her into the elevator to the floor where the Office of the District Attorney was located.

  As they strode through the private corridor, she was greeted by early-bird staff and the Assistant DAs working at their desks, preparing their cases for court. Frank insisted on quickly scanning her office before she entered. In a previous life, one of his bosses had been ambushed by a guy who had waited in his office all night to jump Frank’s boss in the morning. Now that Frank was responsible for Amanda’s security, he was determined to prevent that from happening again.

  “Thank you, Frank,” she said when he emerged from her en suite bathroom and walked past her to the door.

  “See you later,” he said. “Off to the vet.”

  Chapter 2

  Hall of Justice

  Amanda tossed her Burberry raincoat on a chair across from her desk, stowed her
bag in a desk drawer, and fired up her computer. Her inbox was flooded with emails. She hadn’t done any work last night at Jen’s, instead savoring their domestic bliss—a family dinner, playing with Kristin, and talking to Jen late into the night.

  Worth it. She scanned the emails from the Assistant DA’s, providing her with status updates and requesting authority to bring cases to trial or enter into plea agreements. There were the usual issues with lying and uncooperative witnesses, evidence that was either stale or missing, and defense lawyers who complained about getting information late.

  She paid special attention to an email from Jeremy Jones, her senior ADA. I can’t prosecute this case because the evidence—cocaine and cash—are missing from our Evidence Room. Again. Third file this month! This is the worst I’ve experienced “evidence gone missing” in 10 years!

  She replied, Sorry. I’ll talk to Ryan about it today.

  She sent a few more emails then noticed it was time to attend the meeting for which she had short-changed Jen. She grabbed her coffee and iPhone and said goodbye to Melanie, her new administrative assistant, who was hiding behind a pair of large, black spectacles that looked like they belonged to an old newspaper editor. Amanda wondered how the oversized frames stayed glued to the bridge of Melanie’s nose all day. She could only assume Melanie had purposefully bought them that large, but the choice was puzzling. Who is the young woman behind those things?

  A short distance down the green-tiled corridor, Amanda scanned her badge to enter Tommy’s work area, the Special Investigative Unit. Since his cousin, Ryan Delmastro, had been appointed to Chief of Police, Tommy had received a promotion to this Unit. He had excelled as a homicide detective for 20 years and now worked on complex, sensitive cases that required a keen mind and delicate touch. The timing was good, too, because Amanda thought he had seemed a little burned out on his homicide rotation.

  Tommy’s new unit didn’t have a receptionist, so Amanda showed herself to his office. He wasn’t there. Still waiting for Jen to pick up Kristin? Shit. My fault. She returned to the corridor and headed to Ryan’s office, running into Tommy on the second-floor landing of the fire escape stairwell.