Sinfully Delicious

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Sinfully Delicious Page 20

by Amanda M. Lee


  I deflated. “Oh.”

  “I also want to see if I can find evidence of anyone hanging out by that storage building,” he added. “If we can find proof someone was watching you that might be able to lead us to a suspect.”

  I hadn’t even considered that. “You think the person I thought was watching me the other night murdered Roy?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a possibility.”

  “Unless I imagined it.” I didn’t want to paint myself as crazy, but it felt necessary to offer the possibility that nothing really happened. “It’s possible. It was dark. It was creepy being out there alone. You just said my imagination is always firing on all cylinders. What’s more likely, that a killer came back to the scene of the crime or I let my imagination run wild?”

  “I’m not taking any chances.” He was firm. “You should run your errands while I’m at the station. I’ll meet you behind the restaurant in an hour.”

  There was no sense arguing with him. He’d already made up his mind. “Okay, but it’s really not necessary.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  I BOUGHT MORE CAT SUPPLIES THAN I intended. I meant to grab a small bag of kitten chow, a three-pack of soft food, the smallest bag of litter available, and a cheap litter box. I left with five full bags and I struggled to carry them all as I got out of my car behind the restaurant.

  “Geez.” Hunter was already there, leaning against his truck with his arms crossed. He hurried to help me. “Did you buy out the store?”

  “I just ... didn’t want him to be bored,” I replied defensively when he plucked out a fishing pole toy with feathers attached to the end. “Cats need to be stimulated.”

  His smiled. “If you say so.” He shoved the toy back and grabbed three bags from me. “But you’re not keeping him, right?”

  I scowled. “I can send all these things with him so he’ll be set when he finds a new home.”

  “That’s very ... pragmatic.” Hunter dropped the bags at the bottom of the stairs that led to the balcony. “I’ll help you carry them up after. Right now, I want you to show me where you think the person was watching you from.”

  I nestled the bags I was carrying next to the others and dragged a hand through my hair. All the time in the woods had made it unruly and I needed another shower to tame it. “I don’t know that there was anyone here,” I reminded him, feeling as if I was stuck on repeat. “I just felt I was being watched.”

  “Okay, then reenact it for me.” His tone was so reasonable I merely nodded.

  “I came down from the steps.” I gestured for emphasis. “The kitten was over here, under the streetlight.”

  Hunter was silent as he watched me walk to the middle of the alley.

  “He was right here, chasing bugs.” I pointed toward the ground. “I thought he would flee because that’s what feral cats do, but he wasn’t afraid of me. He didn’t want to be picked up, but he was so small it was easy. After I had him, I crouched here for a few minutes. I was trying to decide what to do with him.”

  “You were trying to talk yourself out of keeping him,” Hunter countered, moving to join me. He scanned the area. “There are a lot of places someone could hide out here, Stormy. I never really thought about it before, but I’m not sure it’s safe for you to stay here.”

  That was ludicrous. “It’s Shadow Hills. There is no safer place.”

  “A dead body was discovered right here, by you, a few days ago.” Hunter’s eyes turned cold. “There’s no place that’s truly safe, but ... I don’t think you should be coming in and out of this apartment after dark right now.”

  He had to be joking. “Um ... you can’t possibly think I’m going to hole up in that apartment alone every night for the foreseeable future. I’ll go crazy.”

  “Better crazy than dead.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true. “Hunter, we have no proof that anybody was out here watching me.”

  “You had a feeling.” His tone was accusatory. “I learned a long time ago that your feelings are usually accurate.”

  “When did I ever have a feeling back then?” I was honestly curious.

  “How about when you were convinced that Danny Watkins was a predator and you warned Shelly Davidson?”

  I’d forgotten about that. “Well ... .”

  He wagged a finger, refusing to back down. “You were right. Danny was caught ... doing things ... outside of Shelly’s bedroom window. You made her so nervous she made her father check when she heard a noise. And guess what he found.”

  “Danny,” I muttered, scuffing my foot against the ground.

  “Danny,” he agreed. “Now, Danny was just a garden-variety Peeping Tom at that point, but it could’ve escalated. You made sure she was safe.”

  “That was just a fluke.”

  “It wasn’t. You also knew about ... me.”

  My heart stuttered. “I didn’t know. I suspected.”

  “And you were right.” He cleared his throat and steadied his voice. “You recognized what nobody else in that school could. You understood about my father. You’ve always been ... cognizant ... of certain things. We’re talking things other people can’t pick up on. I trust your instincts.”

  I considered his words. Was he right? Had I always been more aware than others? Before I burned Monica’s eyebrows off at the bonfire I would’ve completely disregarded the statement. Now, though ... .

  My life felt more in flux than when I first arrived. I didn’t like it. I was a creature of habit. Routine was my best friend. How was I supposed to get into a routine with all this going on? It seemed impossible.

  “Stay there,” Hunter ordered, heading in the direction of the storage building. He clearly hadn’t witnessed my moment of paralyzing self-doubt.

  I watched as he moved to the closest side and disappeared from view. I knew he was circling the building, so I waited. It took him longer than it should’ve to reappear on the other side.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “Nothing. I really am crazy.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” He was grim as he motioned for me to join him. “Who smokes here?”

  I wasn’t expecting the question. “A lot of people smoke,” I replied as I joined him.

  “I need a list.”

  “I don’t understand.” He led me to the back corner of the building. There, in the spot that would’ve been darkest thanks to the shadows afforded by the encroaching trees, was a well-worn patch of ground. There had to be at least fifty discarded cigarette butts strewn around.

  “Who smokes here?” he repeated.

  “A lot of people, including Brad and Trina.”

  “Do they come out this far to smoke?”

  I hesitated.

  “Stormy, I don’t suspect your aunt and uncle of trying to kill you,” he said gently. “That’s not what this is about. I want to know if it’s reasonable for someone who works here to come out this far to smoke. It’s a simple question.”

  “Most everyone who smokes does it by that door.” I pointed toward the double doors closest to my apartment steps. “There are ashtrays right there.”

  “So there’s no reason for anyone to smoke behind the storage building.” He stroked his chin. “Unless someone was watching the inhabitant of that apartment.” He gestured up, drawing my attention to the sliding glass doors that led to my kitchen.

  “I’m never that far over,” I reassured him, my heart lodging in my throat. “At night, I usually hang in the living room ... or my bedroom.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Someone can still see the lights. You need to install blinds on those windows.”

  I nodded dumbly. “I’ll talk to Grandpa.”

  “You don’t have to talk to him. Just do it. If he doesn’t like it, tell him to see me. I’ve been wanting to have a talk with him anyway.”

  “It’s not that.” I shifted, uncomfortable. “I don’t have the money to buy them right now.”

  Realization sparked in his eyes. “Oh. I didn�
�t know things were that bad.” He looked apologetic. “Well, I’ll go up there and measure. I’ll buy the blinds.”

  I immediately started shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”

  The sympathy he’d obviously been feeling moments before evaporated, replaced by frustration. “You’re getting blinds. You can pay me back once you’ve put some money away.”

  “You’re not buying blinds for me. I’ll just ... put a blanket over the doors or something.”

  “No, you’re getting blinds.” He started toward the bags, grabbing all five of them this time before starting up the stairs. “Don’t bother arguing with me.”

  “Oh, I’m going to argue with you.” I had to hurry to keep up with him. Even laden down, his longer legs allowed him to take two steps at a time. When he tugged on the door and it easily slid open, he gave me a look of incredulity. “What?” Frustration was positively oozing out of my pores.

  “Why is this door unlocked?”

  That was a very good question. “Um ... maybe Grandpa unlocked it.” That seemed unlikely. He never even entered the kitchen when he invaded my personal space. He always went straight to the bathroom.

  Hunter used his elbow to push the door open the rest of the way and carry in the bags, unceremoniously dropping them on the floor before looking to the windows. “Where is your tape measure?”

  “You’re not buying me blinds.”

  “Stop arguing with me and get a tape measure.” Hunter’s eyes fired. “I am not leaving until you have blinds and that’s all there is to it.”

  “You are so bossy,” I grumbled as I moved toward the living room. I was fairly certain there was a tape measure in the box I’d yet to unpack that I’d tucked in the corner. “That’s another thing that hasn’t changed since we were kids.”

  “Well, if you expect me to apologize, it’s not going to happen. Just get the tape measure.”

  I rummaged in the box for a few minutes, to the point he became frustrated and moved to join me.

  “Let me.”

  “I have it,” I snapped.

  “Yes, well, I think you’re dragging your feet.”

  We were still grappling for position in front of the box when the door to the apartment opened to allow Grandpa entrance. He seemed surprised to see us, especially as we were using our hips in an effort to box each other out.

  “Well, at least you’re not naked,” Grandpa said, once he’d wrapped his head around the situation. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”

  “Looking for a tape measure,” I replied. “He’s being bossy, though. Tell him to stop being bossy.”

  “It’s like you’re teenagers all over again.” Grandpa shook his head and started for the bathroom. Apparently he’d forgotten that he was avoiding Hunter, because he slowed his pace before he’d gone more than a few steps. “There’s a barbecue at the house this afternoon. I’m sure Stormy has forgotten — or at least wants everyone to believe that — but you’re invited, Hunter. It’s been a long time since you joined us for a family get-together.”

  Hunter looked taken aback. “Oh, well, that’s really nice.”

  “It’ll be good food.”

  I was surprised at Hunter’s reaction. I thought for sure he would shoot Grandpa down right away.

  “I would really like to go,” Hunter hedged. “It’s just ... I can’t. I have a date with Monica in a few hours and I don’t think she’ll take it well if I cancel for your family.”

  “Probably not,” Grandpa agreed, offering a small smile before turning back to his task. “I’ll be awhile. Don’t wait for me.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him to use the bathroom at his own house, but it was too late. He’d slammed the door and was apparently in his own little world. “I need to change the locks,” I muttered. When Hunter didn’t respond, I turned back to see if he’d found the tape measure. Instead, he was holding up a familiar object ... and my heart dropped.

  “Oh, geez. I forgot that was even in there.” I felt like an absolute idiot.

  Hunter stared at his old letterman’s jacket so long I thought he’d lost the ability to speak. When he did find his voice, it was rusty. “I thought you said you’d lost everything you had from when you were a kid because you moved around so much.”

  “No, I said I’d managed to hold on to only a few important things.” I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead as he pinned me with an incredulous stare. “I figured you would want it back one day. I just forgot it was in there.”

  That was mostly true, and yet I never forgot to pack the jacket whenever I moved. It was the one tangible tie I had to him throughout the years, and it was one of the few things I guarded with zealous intent.

  “You can have it back,” I said quickly, trying to fill the silence. “I mean ... it’s yours.”

  He clutched the jacket to his chest and looked momentarily lost. When he finally shook himself from his reverie, his voice was solid again. “We need to find that tape measure. You need those blinds as soon as possible. I also want you to make sure that door is locked at all times.”

  “Fine.”

  “Promise me.” He was fervent. “Promise me that you’ll do it, Stormy. It’s important.”

  I couldn’t hold back my sigh. “I promise. I’ll be more careful about the door. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “That would be a nice change of pace.”

  21

  Twenty-One

  True to his word, Hunter measured the door for the blinds, jotting down the numbers and then warning me about leaving it unlocked again. He promised to return with the blinds as soon as possible.

  “Check the locks in the restaurant when you come in,” he warned, serious. “Also, make sure you check the shadows before getting out of your car. In fact ... do you have any pepper spray?”

  I nodded. “I do. I bought it when I was hopping from city to city.”

  “Then start carrying it.” There was no softness in his attitude and he reacted poorly when I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious. Do you want your grandfather to show up for work one morning and find you in the alley?”

  “I ... no.”

  “I don’t want it either. So, you’re going to start being careful whether you like it or not. Do you understand?”

  I was bitter about being bossed around, but I acquiesced. “I’ll be careful, Hunter.”

  “Make sure that you are.” His fingers lightly brushed against my cheek and then he headed for the door to the kitchen. “Tell your grandfather I’m still going to question him about Roy. He can’t live in your bathroom forever.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true. “He’d camp out in there all night if it meant avoiding you.”

  “Yes, well ... he’s lucky I have other things to do today. Otherwise I would sit here and see how far he wanted to take things.”

  “You have a date.” I bobbed my head perfunctorily. “I hope it goes well. How are Monica’s eyebrows, by the way?”

  He looked as if he was fighting a chuckle. “I haven’t seen her today, so I can’t say. They were pretty bad last night. I still don’t understand why she blamed you.”

  I remembered the jacket just as he was about to escape through the door. “Wait.” I scurried over and collected it, holding it close for a moment before handing it to him. “You don’t want to forget this.”

  He hesitated for a second and then reached over to grab it. “I still can’t believe you kept it all this time.”

  “Like I said, it wasn’t mine to get rid of. I knew I would eventually find a way to get it back to you.”

  “You could’ve just given it to your mother. I know she visited you in a few of those cities. She told me about all of your adventures ... and then complained that you liked dirty cities. She couldn’t understand what you found so fascinating about New Orleans.”

  “It has a certain ... appeal.” I graced him with a soft smile. “The music is amazing. You would absolutely love it. The food is to die for, too.
Also there’s just this ... atmosphere that’s hard to ignore. Creative people go there. Some perform on the streets. Others pretend they’re human statues in Jackson Square.”

  His eyes widened. “And you think that’s cool? Being a human statue, I mean.”

  “I think it’s ... magical.” There was that word again. It kept popping up today. “You should visit one day.”

  “If you love the city so much, why didn’t you settle there?”

  That was a hard question to answer. “Multiple reasons, I guess. The biggest is that I was running out of money. My only other skill is waitressing and it’s impossible to live in the French Quarter if you don’t make a lot of money. Er, well, unless you want to live in a one-bedroom hole. That kind of takes the fun out of it.”

  “So, what? Are you going to stay here, get back on your feet, write another hit book and then return to New Orleans?”

  At one time, that was the plan. It seemed a distant fantasy now, though. “I don’t know. I haven’t written anything in months. It could be that I’m here forever.”

  His eyes flashed with something — hope maybe — and then his features evened out. “You can go on vacation. You can live here and still visit there.”

  “And that might be the path my future holds. Right now things feel ... unsettled. I don’t know what to do. I mean, the apartment is nice — and I can’t complain about the price because Grandpa is doing his best to work with me — but I want someplace to call my own eventually.”

  “Like the Sanderson place.”

  I froze. I couldn’t believe he remembered that. “I always did love that house. I bet it looks awful now.”

  He shrugged. “Nobody has lived there for about eight years. It needs a lot of work. I was inside a few years ago. It has good bones. I think, with enough money and love, it could be turned into something spectacular.”

  “Well, I have zero money, so I think I’m fresh out there.”

  “Give it time.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’ll be in touch when I get the blinds. We’ll set up a time for me to install them.”

  My eyebrows hopped. “You’re going to do manual labor, too?”

 

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