Welcome to Blissville
Page 1
Welcome to Blissville: Volume 1
Copyright 2020 Aimee Nicole Walker
aimeenicolewalker@blogspot.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Curl Up and Dye chapter headings images © Wander Aguiar – www.wanderaguiar.com
Cover art © Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art – www.simplydefinedart.com
Editing provided by Miranda Vescio of V8 Editing and Proofreading - www.facebook.com/V8Editing
Proofreading provided by Judy Zweifel of Judy’s Proofreading – www.judysproofreading.com
Interior Design and Formatting provided by Stacey Ryan Blake of Champagne Book Design – www.champagnebookdesign.com
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original publisher only.
This book contains sexually explicit material and is only intended for adult readers.
Copyright and Trademark Acknowledgments
The author acknowledges the copyrights and trademarked status and trademark owners of the trademarks and copyrights mentioned in this work of fiction.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright
Fatal Reaction
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Epilogue
Dyeing to be Loved
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Something to Dye For
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Dyed and Gone to Heaven
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
I Do or Dye Trying
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Unscripted Love
Dedication
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Bonus from Josh and Gabe
Someone to Call my Own
Dedication
Prologue
Part One
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Part Two
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Part Three
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Epilogue
A Dye Hard Holiday
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Epilogue
Josh’s Recipes
The Happiest Place on Earth
Acknowledgments
Other Books by Aimee Nicole Walker
About the Author
I should’ve listened to my mother. I should’ve tried harder to ignore the gypsy blood that ran through my veins, but I couldn’t turn my back on people who needed help. Well, that and I needed money because my day job of pouring java at The Brew didn’t pay much. So, I started seeing clients in my home and had myself a nice little business going until I got an unexpected reaction – a fatal one. Unfortunately, the fatality would be my own.
I saw my death in a vision and accepted it as my destiny. I hadn’t trusted my instincts when a particularly tall, dark, and handsome man approached me for help and it would seem that I’d be paying the ultimate price. He came to me looking for help with his love life. Things had grown stagnant in his marriage, and he wanted to spice things up a bit to remind his wife of how strong their love had once been. Apparently, the love potion I gave him to use backfired, and his wife realized she was in love with his best friend. I honestly hadn’t seen that coming. In my defense, they didn’t come to me for a couple’s reading, or I would’ve known that they weren’t meant to be to
gether.
One would think I learned a lesson about meddling in peoples’ lives after seeing my fate, but I decided to help one last man on the final day that I would walk the earth. He too was tall, dark, and handsome, but his aura showed him to be a good man despite the sadness I saw in his eyes. Unbeknownst to the dashing detective, Gabe, I slipped a little something extra into his coffee. I called it Love Potion #7 for the number of ingredients I used. Its purpose was to open his eyes to love. I recognized a man who sorely needed love when I saw it. The potion wouldn’t make him fall in love with a particular person or compromise his judgment; it would simply open his mind to possibilities.
As I stood at my kitchen sink washing my dinner dishes, I let my mind imagine a world where Gabe brought his love into the coffee shop, and they lingered over java and pastries as they stared into one another’s eyes. There would be soft smiles and longing looks exchanged as the morning ticked by lazily.
Noise from outside the kitchen window startled me out of my reverie. I looked across the expanse of my back lawn to the alley that separated my property from the neighbor. Josh “Jazz” Roman was taking the trash out to his bins after closing the salon he ran from his house. He turned and waved at me, and I waved a soapy hand in return. He was one person I’d sorely miss.
A shiver worked its way down my spine as I realized that the wave and smile I shared with Josh was exactly what I’d seen in my vision. My time was almost up, and my brain scattered to think of a way to let the police know who killed me. Why hadn’t I thought of that already instead of daydreaming about a cop I hardly knew?
I pulled my hands out of the soapy water and quickly rinsed and dried them. I turned to find something to write with and saw that he was already standing in my kitchen. The rage I saw in his eyes sent fear coursing through my body, and all but one thought slipped my mind.
“I’m so sorry, Mama,” I whispered out loud before I released a blood-curdling scream. I would not leave the world quietly!
“Man, it’s the sweet lady from the coffee shop,” said my partner, Adrian Goode. “Who would want to hurt her?” As detectives, we had seen a lot of shit in our lives, but that didn’t mean we were immune to it. The young woman lying in a pool of blood from where someone had slit her throat wouldn’t sit well with the most hardened veterans.
“Bianca,” I said to him. “Her name is Bianca.” And someone had done a real number on her too. The facial bruising indicated her attacker had struck her several times and the kitchen furniture knocked haphazardly all around suggested she had put up a struggle.
“Bianca Dragomir, age twenty-four,” the first responding officer said. “Call came in from the neighbor behind her. Josh Roman said that he’d seen Ms. Dragomir standing at the sink washing dishes when he took out the garbage around six thirty. They waved at one another. He said he was almost back inside his home when he heard her scream. He said even from across the alley he could hear a lot of scuffling and loud banging. He immediately called nine-one-one, but by the time I arrived, she had already bled out from her wound.”
“Did he get a look at the assailant?” I asked Officer Perkins.
“Mr. Roman was deeply distraught, and I didn’t get much out of him. Maybe you guys should take a crack at him. His friends are sitting with him, and maybe he’s had time to calm down.”
“Yeah, sure,” Adrian said, closing his notebook. He looked at the medical examiner who was bagging Bianca’s hands to preserve any DNA evidence she might have beneath her nails. “I hope you’re going to help us nail the son of a bitch who did this to you, kiddo.”
“She put up a hell of a fight, Detective Goode,” Dr. Melissa Chan replied from where she squatted beside the body. “We have to send all the DNA evidence to state crime lab in Columbus for analysis, so it might be a while before we receive the results. If this guy is in the system, then we’ll have him.” That was something at least. Even though the dead didn’t talk, they often told us quite a lot about the person who killed them.
Adrian and I left Bianca’s house and began a silent walk across her back yard to her neighbor’s house. I had moved to Blissville, a sleepy southern Ohio town, to get away from big city crime. Okay, I moved to Blissville with my then boyfriend when he wanted to move back home and take over his grandfather’s veterinary practice when he retired. Still, I had been looking forward to a slower pace as Kyle, and I built a life together. A year later, Kyle and I were no longer a couple, but I kept my position on the police force and rented a small house of my own. I hadn’t lived here all that long, but I got the impression that a murder wasn’t something that happened very often.
There was a light on in the rear of the massive, two and a half story home owned by Josh Roman. A large portion of the home was converted into a full-service salon called The Curl Up and Dye that was popular with the local ladies. I had seen the owner many times since I moved to town but never spoke to him.
He was a few inches shorter than my six-two frame and very slender compared to my bulkier build I earned working off my sexual frustration in the weight room. His hair was so blond that it was nearly white and he often wore a colored streak in his bangs. He had a sway to his hips when he walked and an “I don’t care what you think about me” air about him. He was clearly comfortable in his own skin, and that was something I admired, even if I wasn’t attracted to him.
Adrian knocked loudly on the back door of the home, and after a few moments, a gorgeous African-American lady in her early 20s answered. “I’m Detective Goode, and this is my partner, Detective Wyatt,” he told her. We both held up our badges, which she scrutinized before she stepped aside so we could enter.
“We’d like to ask Josh Roman a few questions if you don’t mind, Ms…”
“Meredith Richmond,” she replied. “Jazz is a mess right now. He truly loved Bianca, and he’s devastated by her death. Could he possibly do this tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid it’s very important that we speak to him while things are still fresh in his mind,” I told her. “We’ll try to make it quick.”
“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “Follow me.”
She led us through the kitchen and into an elegant, yet cozy looking, sitting room decorated in earth tones with bright bursts of blues and greens. Huddled together on the couch were two men. Josh’s stooped shoulders shook as he cried silently. The other guy sat with his arm around Josh and his forehead pressed to Josh’s temple. It spoke of a very familiar, if not intimate, relationship.
“I should’ve done something more,” Josh said, unaware that we’d entered the room. He was looking down at his lap and running his hands over the long, furry body of a ferret. “She was my friend and I…”
“No, baby,” Meredith said, taking up the open space on the other side of him. “You would’ve gotten yourself killed too.”
Behind the trio sat a gorgeous Siamese cat who pinned me with suspicious blue eyes. Her chocolate-brown ears twitched, and her tail swished from side to side in annoyance at the scene that played out in front of her. I was about to clear my throat to announce our presence when a shrill whistle split the air. I whipped around to see the source of the noise and found a vibrantly blue macaw watching me through his cage.
“Hey there, sexy thing.” The bird let out another whistle and then bopped its head in excitement. “Come give Daddy a kiss.”
“Looks like you made a new friend,” Adrian said from beside me. “It’s been a long dry spell for you. Maybe you give this guy a chance.”
“Savage, behave,” said a soft voice from behind me.
I turned around and found myself caught in a pair of huge hazel eyes that were wet with tears of anguish. It wasn’t the time to catalog every fine, almost delicate feature on Josh Roman’s face, but I couldn’t help myself. It was the first time I’d seen him up close and personal, and his beauty shocked me. I hadn’t thought of men in terms of beauty before, but it was the only way to describe him.
His wounded eyes held onto mine
for several long moments, and I wondered what he thought about when he looked at me; then wondered why I cared. I had a job to do, and it wasn’t to get a date for the following weekend, even if he had been my type. Our eyes stayed locked on each other until Adrian spoke. Josh was the one to break eye contact to focus on him.
“I’m sorry about the loss of your friend Bianca,” Adrian said compassionately. “Your friend Meredith is right though, Mr. Roman. You could’ve been hurt or killed if you’d gone over to her house. You called nine-one-one, and that was exactly what you should’ve done.”
“It doesn’t feel like the right thing. I can’t believe Bianca is dead. Who in the world would want to hurt her? She was the kindest person I’d ever met.” He shifted his eyes back to his lap where he had resumed petting his ferret. “It makes no sense.”
“It seldom does,” I said, speaking for the first time. Josh jerked his gaze back up to mine. “Did you see the assailant entering or leaving her house? Have you seen anyone hanging around that appeared out of place?”
He shook his head slowly. “I didn’t see anything at all. She was washing dishes, and I waved to her as I took the trash out. I didn’t see anyone outside her house at that time, so maybe he was already inside, or he rounded the corner and entered her house right after I turned around to come back inside.”
“Which means he might’ve been familiar with your nightly routine or he was watching and waiting for you to go inside,” I said, thinking out loud. I heard a collective sharp intake of breaths and looked at the three people sitting on the couch.
“Is he in danger?” Meredith asked, looking ashen.
“Oh my God, Jazz,” the other guy said. “You need police protection.” His blue eyes were bugging out of his head. He ran his hands through his light brown hair in agitation. “You will protect him, won’t you?”
“Calm down,” Adrian said, his deep voice sounding as if God spoke. “There’s nothing to indicate that the killer thinks Mr. Roman saw or heard anything at all. Detective Wyatt was mentally piecing together a scenario, not fact.” Adrian pinned me with a dark look that let me know he wasn’t happy I had riled up the witness and his friends. “I know it’s been a difficult night for you, so we won’t stay any longer. We’ll give you our cards, and you can call us if you think of anything at all.”
“Or he gets death threats,” the brown-haired guy added.