I knew she was right, and I knew that was what I wanted, to talk things out with Cade and make up, but right now, all I wanted to do was sulk and have my best friend take my side.
Rather than answering, I shrugged and licked the frosting off my fingers.
Amy May was about to say something, when the door opened and Carmen came rushing in.
She was in high-waisted slacks, with a silky shirt tucked in and sweet high heels. Her hair was down in loose, caramel-colored waves. She looked fabulous, but her face was totally frazzled.
“Are you okay?” I asked, standing up and promptly forgetting my woes.
“She’s dead,” Carmen stated, and my blood ran cold.
“Who?” Amy May and I asked in unison, our hands reaching out to clasp the others.
“The girl from the other night. The one we helped in the bar bathroom,” Carmen replied, and we both sagged a bit with relief.
Not that we didn’t feel bad for the woman who lost her life, but we’d both drawn the same first conclusion … Bea.
We knew our friend’s job could be a dangerous one, and it was a fear that always rested in the back of our minds.
“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer to Carmen, who still looked shaken.
“She was found floating in the pool at the Greenswood Motel. I heard it over the blotter and went to the scene. I saw Bea and she told me to let you guys know, since we may be asked in for questioning. It looks like she was murdered.”
I thought of Cade, then Sledge, and worried about what this would mean for the club, and for my relationship with Cade.
Selfish of me, I know, but you can’t help where your mind goes in a crisis…
“Oh my god,” Amy May cried, her free hand going to her mouth. “Do you think he did it? The guy from the bar?”
“There’s no way of knowing yet, but I’m sure he’ll be a suspect, since Bea was there and saw the way he was with her in that bathroom,” Carmen surmised, her eyes wide. “I couldn’t believe it … When I recognized the girl in the pool. We just saw her the other night…”
I led Carmen to the couch and pressed on her back, urging her head to go between her knees, then rubbed small circles on her back.
After a few minutes, Carmen sat up and said, “I’m okay. Thanks.”
Amy May and I sat on either side of her, offering silent support.
“What was going on? When I came in before. Looked pretty serious,” Carmen asked, her reporter’s curiosity back in action, letting us know she really was okay. “Also, why did Bea ask me to tell you what happened, rather than calling you herself?”
I sighed, then replied, “Bea and I had a falling out the other day, and Cade and I had a falling out today. It’s been a shitty week.”
“What did you and Bea fight over? The wedding?” Carmen asked, and my gaze swung between her and Amy May as the light dawned.
“You both knew?”
Carmen nodded, and Amy May said, “Yeah.”
“Well, why did she tell you guys and not me?”
“Uh, she worried you’d get all pissed off,” Amy May replied wryly, taking the wind out of my sails.
“Oh,” I said dumbly, wishing I wasn’t so quick to temper, and so damn transparent.
“And what about Cade?” Carmen asked softly.
“That guy from the bar … He’s Cade’s VP. I found that out the hard way, at the barbecue today, and let’s just say, Cade was a little ticked that was the first he was hearing of it.”
This time Carmen just said, “Oh.”
“Don’t worry, things will turn around,” Amy May assured me, always looking at the bright side. “You and Bea will make up, as will you and Cade, and just think, you and the twins get to move into your house next weekend. Everything will be great, you’ll see.”
I gave my best attempt at a smile, hoping to ease Amy May’s mind, and hoping that she was right.
I needed things to start looking back up. Although, with a dead girl and a possible homicide that could put a huge wedge between myself and Cade’s club, I didn’t know how that could happen.
After spending the night alone, tossing and turning as I worried about what my immediate future may hold, I went into Greenswood and spent the day wandering around. I hit up the library, had lunch at the Applebee’s, then moseyed around doing some window-shopping until it was time to go pick up the kids from Eric’s house.
I let myself into the van and sat back with a huff. Cade hadn’t tried to get ahold of me, and I hadn’t tried to get ahold of him. Was this how we’d end? Would one conflict between me and his club be the death of our fledgling relationship?
The thought made me physically ill.
I’d been married to Eric for over a decade. We’d had children together. But, although I’d been pissed and humiliated when he’d cheated on me, the way I’d felt after our divorce hadn’t devastated me. Not in the way I was sure I’d be devastated if Cade and I were through after four short months together.
He’d filled an invisible space in my life, and had made me happier than I’d ever been.
“We’ll be fine,” I whispered, needing to hear the words out loud.
When I heard a voice whisper from behind me, “I’m sure you will be,” I nearly shit my pants.
My eyes flew to the rearview mirror and my heart leapt out of my chest when I saw Sledge sitting comfortably in the seat behind me.
I swung in my seat, hand clutched to my chest.
“What the fuck?” I yelled, half pissed, half scared out of my mind.
Sledge raised one eyebrow, apparently unimpressed by my screaming, then asked calmly, “Has Cade seen you in this yet?”
I reached back and tried to snatch the black lace teddy I’d bought in the boutique out of his hand, but he pulled it back out of my reach.
“Leave my stuff alone,” I growled, then remembered that he was a suspect in a murder investigation, and began to get a little worried about my current situation.
“What are you doing in my van?” I asked.
My voice must have conveyed some of my nerves, because Sledge dropped the teddy on the seat next to him and said, “I didn’t kill that chick.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe that?” I asked a little haughtier than was probably advised, considering I had a possible murderer in my van.
“What would I kill that bitch for?” Sledge asked, leaning forward so that his face was close enough for me to smell the cigarette stench on his breath. “I can get all the pussy I want at the compound; it ain’t like I’m hard up.”
“Maybe you didn’t like her turning you down,” I suggested.
“I could give a shit,” Sledge replied. “Look, it didn’t go down like you bitches thought. That Samantha chick was all over me at the bar, full of dirty talk and promise. Then, when we got in the bathroom, she changed her tune, said she needed my help.”
“Stop calling us bitches,” I ordered, then, curious despite myself, I asked, “What did she need your help with?”
“Don’t know,” he answered with a shrug. “Before she could tell me what she was about, she heard you bitches…” At my pointed look, he amended, “Ah, you and your chicks, come in, all loud and shit, and started screaming no like I was attacking her.”
“Your hand was on her ass,” I reminded him.
“My hand was already there when she stopped tonguing me and started telling me that she needed my help. I just hadn’t moved my hand yet.”
Yeah, right…
“Have you told this to the police?” I asked.
“They don’t want to hear shit. Right now, I’m a person of interest, but I know for a fact they aren’t looking at anyone else. I need you to clear my name. I want to hire you.”
My jaw dropped unattractively.
“Wouldn’t Cade be the more likely choice?” I asked when my brain caught up with is words. “Isn’t that the kind of stuff he does for you guys?”
“Cade took off after that shit went d
own at the barbecue. Haven’t heard from him since.”
“What? Where did he go? What happened?”
I was torn between worry, fear, and straight-up anger.
Why did he leave without saying anything?
Is he coming back?
“We had some words over the way I’d treated you. My man was pissed,” Sledge said with a wry grin. “I’ve never seen him like that over a bitch, ah, woman, before. He laid it out that you’re his old lady and I needed to treat you with respect. We talked it out, then he took off. He does that sometimes, when he needs to clear his head. Open road’s the best place for it.”
I decided to let his words marinate for a bit, then decide what I’d do when and if, Cade returned.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“PI shit,” Sledge replied. “I’ll tell you what I know, and you find out who killed that crazy bitch. And don’t worry, Red, a woman who looks like you, acts like you, and buys shit like this?” I wanted to die when Sledge held up the anal beads. “Cade’ll be back in no time, beggin’ you to forgive his savage ass.”
After two potentially dangerous encounters with the same greasy biker, I decided it was time to get my ass back into shape.
That was why, after getting Elena and Elin off to school, I was walking through the doors of the local gym rather than bellying up to the counter at Amy May’s for coffee and cupcakes. Just stepping into the space filled with machines working, people grunting, and a mixture of sweat and cleaning fluid filling the air had me reconsidering my decision.
Maybe I could start getting fit again tomorrow…
Before I could spin around and skulk back out the door I heard, “Lila?”
I lifted my head and found the source of that lilting, sexy voice.
“Bran?” I replied, even though it was obviously Bran walking toward me.
You know how it is when you are used to seeing someone in one place, then you see them out of that element, and it totally throws you off? Yeah, well, I was used to seeing Branson Braswell in his three-piece suit, in his law office, doing lawyerly things. I was not used to seeing him in a tank top and running shorts, looking slightly sweaty, muscles on display like he lived in this gym.
Damn!
“Hey, I haven’t seen you in here before,” he said with a smile, deep blue eyes flashing as he took in the running pants and tank that fit me like a second skin.
“Yeah, I, uh, have been taking some time off,” I replied lamely, causing him to chuckle.
“It’s good to see you,” Bran added, still smiling.
I hadn’t seen him since we’d finalized everything with Moose’s will, and even then, we only saw each other a few times, so I was surprised he seemed so happy to see me. Especially since every time he had, Cade was there with me, scowling down at Bran like a territorial caveman.
“You too,” I replied, realizing that it actually was. I hadn’t gotten to know him on a deep level, but he seemed like a good dude. It wouldn’t hurt to have another friend, right? Especially one with piercing blue eyes, a killer smile, and a sweet disposition.
“So, what are you working on today?” Bran asked as he led me farther into the den of torture, making my escape impossible.
“Uh, I don’t know, cardio?” I said with a half shrug. “I’ve been getting into some crazy situations recently, so I need to do something to make my reaction time a little faster.”
Bran’s brow furrowed, and I told him about what had happened over the last week, trying to be as vague as possible to protect the innocent, of course.
“I heard about that,” he responded, reminding me of just how small this town was, and that there were no secrets in Greenswood. “I hadn’t realized you were involved though.”
“I was hired yesterday to do an investigation of my own.”
“You know, I volunteered to teach self-defense in college,” Bran said, bringing his hand to my bicep. I wasn’t sure if it was to hold me in place, or to see how strong I was. “I’d be happy to work with you, show you some moves. I’d feel better about you being out there spying on bad guys if I knew you could defend yourself.”
Aww, that was kind of sweet. Plus, maybe that means I could get out of doing cardio…
“Yeah, that would be great, thanks,” I replied with a smile, already thinking about my celebratory cupcake.
An hour later, I wasn’t thinking about anything but a cold shower, a deep-tissue massage, and the demise of Branson Braswell.
“You’re a sadist,” I moaned from my prone position on the mat.
“I can be,” Bran agreed, with a decidedly wicked chuckle. “Now quit being lazy and get back up.”
“Lazy?” I scoffed, rolling to my side.
He’d had me lifting weights and doing sprints on the treadmill, and had spent the better part of the last thirty minutes tossing me around the mats like a ragdoll.
As soon as I was standing, Bran moved behind me and started to attack. Not thinking, just reacting, I stomped on his foot, then reared back, ready to slam my head into whatever part of him it came into contact with.
Of course, he deflected my movements, but I still felt pride rise up in me when Bran said, “Yes. You’re getting it, Lila. In a few weeks, you’ll be acting purely on instinct.”
His words had my pride deflating, and panic taking it’s place.
“A few weeks?”
Yes, those words totally came out as a whine, and I may have been fighting back tears.
Bran chuckled.
“You’ll be fine,” he assured me. “I’m here every morning, but you can meet me two or three times a week, if that works for you.”
“You’re here every morning?” I asked, my face conveying the horror that those words filled me with.
“Sure, gotta change it up, make sure everything gets worked out. I’m not getting any younger.”
Inadvertently, my eyes swept every inch of him. Every inch of Branson Braswell was definitely being worked out. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt me to make more of an effort to get myself into better shape. Sure, I was exhausted and my body would be screaming later, but I actually felt pretty good. Like I’d accomplished something.
“Okay,” I agreed. “Twice a week to start. I’ve got to get some headway on this case.”
“Twice this week, three times next,” Bran countered, ever the lawyer.
I nodded my assent, then said, “Thanks, Bran, I appreciate you helping me out.”
“Anything for a friend,” Bran replied, causing me to smile up at him.
That felt nice. And as I walked away, I wondered whether he’d want to go out with us on our next Ladies’ Night.
After showering and grabbing a smoothie for breakfast, I was feeling surprisingly peppy and ready to take on the world. Sledge had told me everything he knew about Samantha, our victim, and I’d spent the night making notes and looking up names on Google.
There wasn’t a lot of information out there on Samantha Stacker, other than that her parents were deceased, she had a brother who lived twenty minutes away, and she’d been Greenwood High’s Homecoming Queen in 2012.
I drove out to the brother’s apartment, and was told by his landlady that he was currently working at the bagel place around the corner. The apartment building was decaying at best, but as I walked around the corner, the smell of bagels hit me and my stomach rumbled in response.
I guess a smoothie wasn’t enough to hold me over until lunch.
There was a line of people outside of the bagel shop, which could only mean one thing. I was about to have a delicious mid-morning snack.
I got in line, surveying the area behind the tint of my sunglasses as I waited.
It was obviously a popular joint, with people working diligently behind the counter. They made breakfast and lunch sandwiches, and offered an array of bagels with assorted flavors of cream cheese.
“Tony, can you grab some more bags out of the back?”
The name Tony snagged my attention. Sa
mantha’s brother was Anthony Stacker, and when I saw the skinny man with long hair pulled back into a bun, who looked to be about twenty-six, I hoped I’d found my guy.
I watched his movements as I progressed through the line and ordered egg, bacon, and cheese on an everything bagel.
What? I worked out today…
He was a quiet guy, not talking to anyone unless he had to. He seemed to be a filler, or runner of sorts, and I wondered if he was actually a full-time employee or just worked under the table.
As I paid for my bagel, I saw Tony disappear into the back again, so I walked out the door and rounded the building.
“Hey,” I called when I saw Tony smoking back by the dumpster.
Tony looked up, his eyes darting left then right, as if he were about to run or something. He must have deemed I was low threat, because he just shifted on his feet and lifted his chin.
“You Anthony Stacker?” I asked as I moved cautiously closer.
“Who wants to know?”
“I’m a PI, and I was hired to look into the death of Samantha Stacker. Was she your sister?”
The look of pain that crossed his face at Samantha’s name told me that I had the right guy.
“The cops are looking into the biker,” he began, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with his heel. “They talked to me already.”
“Well, if you don’t mind talking to me, I’d really appreciate it. I actually met your sister briefly before she died, and I’d really like to help find the person that did this to her,” I explained, hoping the fact that I had a personal connection, even if it was a thin one, would get him to talk.
“I don’t got much to say. Sammy was a good girl. I don’t know why she was in that bar, or what she was doing with that biker. He wasn’t her type, you know … None of this makes any sense.”
“Did she have a boyfriend? A job? A best friend?” I prodded. “Anything you can tell me would help a lot.”
“She has an ex, some yuppy douche with an attitude problem,” Tony said, his lip curled up with distaste. “She worked at The Coffee Bean in The Heights, and her best friend since we were kids is Clarice.”
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