Shades of Pink (Lola Pink Mysteries Book 1)

by Gina LaManna

  In a second, I made my decision. I could either go down fighting, or sit here and wait for Luke to end everything.

  I chose to fight.

  With a low snarl, I twisted toward him, leaning all my weight on the hand clenching the knife.

  The motion surprised him, and he tried to hold back, but I had momentum on my side. The weight of my body beat out the strength of his arm, and the weapon plunged toward his leg.

  Luke’s jeans gave him some protection, but the blade eased through the denim, striking his leg mid-thigh. He cried out in pain, a string of curses piercing the darkness around us.

  I used the opportunity to climb onto the bench, haul myself toward the railing. A smear of blood marked my trail as I slithered away from him and prepared to jump.

  “Get back here, Pink,” Luke snarled, a bloodstained hand pressing against his leg. “I’m not done with you.”

  It was now or never.

  I placed a foot on the railing and pushed off, ready for the fall, the crash of the waves beneath me, the frigid cold of the ocean by midnight. However, before the fall toward the whitecaps began, I was ripped back into the wildly swinging cart.

  Luke’s hand had found my arm and dragged me back. He limped, the pain of his wound turning him into an animal, his lips curled down as he threw me to the ground.

  “Last words?” he asked, before flipping me over and kneeling on my back.

  I kicked, scratched, yelled, but he weighed too much, and I was pinned to the ground. I felt him binding my hands behind my back with the coarse sleeves of his sweater. He must have slipped it off while I lay face down beneath him.

  “Why?” I blurted. “How?”

  “The poor handyman, that’s what you think of me, right? Slaving away over Clark’s toilet while he’s making millions storming around his castle and barking orders. Very fair, isn’t it?”

  “Fair? This has nothing to do with fair.”

  “Is it fair he gets the girl, too?” Luke tsked, then shook his head. “I saw your boss try to kiss you. Semi almost caught me, but I got away. You were supposed to be mine, Lola. You were going out on a date with me, yet Mr. Clark has you wrapped around his pretty little finger, doesn’t he?”

  Semi’s warning about a man leaving the premises flashed through my mind. Luke had been spying on me, the creep.

  Luke continued with a wry laugh, then pulled me into a sitting position on the bench. “Not fair at all if you ask me. But a handyman does have its perks. Lots of things can be lifted from a bathroom. Fingerprints, DNA…I’ve overheard snippets of codes, stray confidential documents, daily schedules and routines. To billionaires, the help is often invisible. With invisibility comes power.”

  “But the key card—”

  “With the proper tools, a fake fingerprint and a keycard aren’t what I’d call impossible to create. Slipping into the place after dark, not challenging to a man who’s seen the detailed diagrams of security zones. It just takes a keen eye, Miss Pink.”

  “Why deal with me if you could just steal the blueprint and sell it to Graham Industries?”

  “I’m a freelancer—I work for myself. Alone. I don’t need help. However, Mr. Flanagan Sr. will pay me handsomely when I turn over the blueprint.”

  “You haven’t turned it over?”

  “Not yet. It’s a two part equation. If I complete the second half, he’ll provide all my fake documents, set me up with a life in the Caribbean that’ll last forever. I think I’ll ask to become a Charlie. I look like a Charlie, don’t you think?”

  “What is part two?”

  “Convincing Clark to sell the company.”

  “And you came after me, hoping I could change his mind.”

  “The thought occurred to me, but I came up with a much easier way to do business.” Luke hauled me to my feet and pushed me toward the ledge. “When he finds you dead, floating in the water tomorrow morning, he’ll be so devastated by his loss of the one woman he’s come to love, by his failing company, by the betrayals of his closest employees—he’ll have no choice but to unload the company to the highest bidder. And Graham Industries will be there waiting.”

  Luke’s fingers closed over my mouth as I began to scream, cry for help, but it came out a garbled bunch of nonsense. Between the boardwalk’s carnival music and the roar of the hungry waves below, the sound disappeared in seconds.

  “Time to go, Miss Pink,” Luke said, one of his hands grasping for my legs, the other pressing my head over the side. “Pity, as I really did have a fun time tonight.”

  The Ferris wheel ground to a halt, pausing as we reached for the sky, as if the very machine knew how important this next minute would be.

  “It’s beautiful,” Luke said. “I’ll miss this place. And so will you, Miss Pink. Say hello to Dotty for me, will you?”

  With that, he tipped me over the edge of the railing and the freefall rushed to meet me. I couldn’t move my arms, my legs—my screams were nothing. I hurtled to the ocean below, the stars gleaming from above, and the lights flashing from the side. Then I hit water, and the only thing I knew was ice.

  I sank deep below, kicking for the surface despite the breath-stealing temperatures.

  I’d been wrong.

  All wrong.

  Dotty’s prophecy had been wrong, and I’d been stupid enough to believe it. If only I’d turned Dane Clark away the minute he’d stepped into the store, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be drifting, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I wouldn’t be frozen with cold, limp without oxygen.

  I wouldn’t be dead by tomorrow.

  I bobbed once, twice, and then sank again, my vision turning hazy as I inhaled my first swallow of water. My last thought as I faded into the blackness, was to wonder how long Dane Clark would wait up tonight.

  Shame we never got to watch that movie.

  The voice came through a fog, a blurry, frigid fog. It didn’t make any sense.

  Dotty? I thought, somewhere in the back of my mind.

  “Lola!” it shouted again, a low voice. A man’s voice. “Wake up, wake up!”

  I couldn’t open my eyes, couldn’t hardly breathe. My chest was tight, impossible to inhale.

  “Lola, it’s me.” A warm mouth pressed against the side of my face, his lips the only warmth in this entire sea of cold. “It’s Dane. Wake up, please.”

  I was too weak to say anything, so I leaned against him, a murmur escaping my lips. That would have to be enough.

  “Lola.” Dane hugged me to him, cradling my head over his shoulder as swirls of water twisted beneath us. His legs kicked double time to keep us both afloat.

  I tried to say his name, but nothing came out. He worked at the sweater around my hands, freeing me with ease. My breath rattled as I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest.

  “Say something,” he said. “Anything.”

  “Good...” A fit of coughing interrupted my response. “Good thing you do swimming.”

  “I do swimming,” Dane repeated.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and just held onto him.

  There was a long moment of silence before he clutched me to his chest in an embrace, and then slowly, steadily began moving us toward shore. “I thought I would be too late.”

  “It was a little too close for comfort,” I admitted. I tried to half-heartedly paddle with a few of my fingers, but Dane pressed them to my body and instructed me to be still. “But I’ll still give you credit for saving my life.”

  “Does this count as romance?”

  I laughed, his cheek warm against my cool skin. “I’ll give you a few romance points for this one, sure.”

  As we bobbed toward shore, there was only the sound of his heavy, measured breathing. On the boardwalk, I caught sight of Semi holding Luke before him, the latter bent over a cop car. Police swarmed the place, two of the men jumping into a dinghy to come rescue us.

  “Dane,” I said with a slight hesitation.

  “Yes?”

&nb
sp; Pulling him toward me, I whispered in his ear. “I was worried you’d think I’d forgotten about you,” I said. “I hadn’t. I was planning to come back tonight, and—”

  He cut me off with a kiss—soft and tender, the only sliver of bright in the crashing waves. The only warmth that spread through every fiber of my being.

  “I thought you weren’t going to make it,” he said. The dinghy with the cops eased closer. “Semi called in a panic when he lost sight of you, and you didn’t answer your phone. He asked if I could track your GPS, which I did, and then I came down here myself.”

  “Don’t be mad at Semi,” I said. “It’s not his fault that I snuck away.”

  His mouth formed a thin line. “I arrived just as you went over the side. Lola, I’ll always wait up for you—”

  “—all right, there?” One of the police officers called as the boat pulled up next to us. “We’ve got your attacker subdued on the boardwalk, ma’am. First order of business is to get you warm. Climb on up.”

  They hauled me up first, and then Dane.

  “You’ve got a real lifesaver here, you know,” one of the men said. “Do you two know each other?”

  “Sort of,” I said with a half smile at Dane. “He’s my boss. Unless I’m fired.”

  His eyes darkened for a second. “The person who should be fired is Semi. If he’d been watching...”

  “No, Dane. You can’t—it’s not like that. I encouraged him to spend time with Annalise. It’s not his fault. Don’t fire him. Promise me.”

  Dane inhaled, the thoughts rushing through his mind and twisting his features into an unreadable display. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally. “I promise.”

  “We’ve gotta get you warm and go over a few questions,” the officer said. “Do you have someone you need to call?”

  I glanced over at Dane, watching his expression. “My phone is dead,” I said finally. “Bottom of the ocean.”

  “I’m her emergency contact,” Dane said. “And I’ll be taking her home tonight.”

  “I thought you were her boss,” the officer said. “I was talking about family members, or a significant other.”

  “I was her boss,” Mr. Clark said. “But not anymore. Her contract is up, and I’ve fired her.”

  The cop looked even more confused.

  Dane smiled at me, his eyes light against the darkness. “We’re just friends… for now.”

  Dotty was right. She’d always been right.

  The wind had blown; things had changed.

  A week had passed since the incident at the Ferris wheel, and things were definitely different now.

  Luke was in prison, for starters. In addition to the attempted murder, the police had indeed found the missing blueprints hidden in a false bottom built into his toolbox. From what we—aka Dane’s extensive tech team—could ascertain, there had been no copies made, and Graham Industries had never seen the files. Luke Anderson had been holding the blueprints hostage in an attempt to score the big Kahuna—the sale of the Clark Company.

  However, because there’d been no tangible link to Mr. Flanagan Sr. or Gary, nothing we could bring to the police as proof they’d been involved in this whole fiasco, the only thing Dane could do—for now—was deny Graham Industries the sale.

  Which, in a way, turned out to be the silver lining to my taking a dive from the Ferris wheel. The denial of sale to Graham Industries brought about major media attention, which concluded in a bidding war between two new companies. Dane was able to sell the device for double the initial asking price.

  And, while the outcome with Gary and Mr. Flanagan Sr. wasn’t ideal, I had an inkling this wouldn’t be the last of them. Dane promised we’d find a way to expose their involvement in the matter and, if anyone could make miracles happen, it was him.

  In other, groundbreaking news, I had figured out how to work the spaceship shower without drowning my room. It’d only taken the week of recovery at the castle to get it right.

  I hadn’t actually left the place for an entire week. I’d had visitors—Annalise and Babs to start—and then the rest of the curious townsfolk who knew me well enough to demand an invitation.

  Mrs. Fredericks brought freshly baked cookies and Bernie the boardwalk janitor brought a stack of used books, some of them stained with ice cream from his time spent reading under the water tower. Darrel was a hit when he brought a variety pack of sweets from Dungeons and Donuts.

  Despite all of the kindness of the townsfolk, I suspected most of them came to visit just for a glimpse of Castlewood. Half of them forgot to stop by and actually see me until Mrs. Dulcet guided them in the right direction.

  It was hard to blame them, though. It’s not as if Dane kept a standing invitation to visitors, and more than one of them had gotten lost on the way to the bathroom and given themselves a self-guided tour. Surprisingly, he hardly seemed bothered with all the interruptions to his schedule.

  Between time spent with visitors, time spent eating, resting, sleeping, and otherwise convincing Mrs. Dulcet that I was just fine, I’d hardly seen Mr. Clark. Business had to go on, of course.

  However, later that week when he’d requested a movie night, I’d happily agreed.

  I toweled off after my shower, slipped into a flannel set of pajamas, and sat on the edge of the bed to stick my feet into a set of fuzzy slippers. When I stood, a flash of purple caught my eye.

  I bent over and pulled Dotty’s notebook from underneath my bed. Babs had been kind enough to bring it over when she’d visited after I’d been pulled from the ocean, and I’d tucked it away for safe keeping. Now, flipping it open, I was surprised to find an envelope with my name scrawled on the front.

  I glanced around, but the room was empty. Easing back onto the bed, I opened the envelope and pulled out a thick piece of parchment. A lavender scent drifted up to meet me. Dotty. The note began in her curly, whimsical writing.

  My dearest Lola,

  I hope this note finds you well. If you’re reading it, that means I’m not sitting next to you anymore. But don’t worry, I’m always here. Around you. With you.

  You may be wondering what your crazy old grandmother is up to now. Well, I have one last secret to tell you.

  I’m not psychic.

  Yes, you read that correctly. All these years of everyone believing my “gifts” and, well, I’m here to tell you that’s not true. I haven’t been lying, per say, but letting people believe. Belief, you see, is the most important gift of all.

  You see, we have clever joke shops in this town, Little Lola. Highlighters, ink pens and the like that fade with time. That’s what you’ve been reading on all these “prophecies” I’ve left you. They disappear at random intervals, and soon enough, you’ll be left with nothing.

  But that’s quite alright, dear, because none of these phrases are magic. In fact, I got them out of bad fortune cookies. What is the point of all this, you might ask? The point is that I’m proud of you.

  You make your own luck, Lola, and all you needed was a bit of confidence to steer you in the right direction. If you’re reading this note, that means you’ve done it. You no longer need this book, darling—you know all that you need to do in your heart.

  Don’t ask how I know you’ve done it, or who delivered the letter—none of that matters. All that matters is I love you, and I’m proud of you.

  Until next time,

  Dotty Pink

  My breath caught in my throat, a tear dripping onto the parchment and staining her signature. Dotty Pink, the legendary psychic—user of invisible ink and bad fortune cookies.

  It struck me as funny, so funny I started to giggle and then laugh, and then the tears joined the laughter until I was a slobbering mess. How I missed Dotty Pink, I thought, clutching the book to my chest.

  But she was right. It was time to retire the journal and stop leaning on her for help.

  I knew what I needed to do next.

  “What do you think?” I whispered halfway through. “F
unny, isn’t it?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be quiet during movies?” Dane glanced over at me. “That’s what I read on the internet.”

  “You read an article on how to watch a movie?”

  “I wanted to do it right.” Dane’s face flickered with hesitation. “How am I doing?”

  “Great! This is an excellent array of snacks.” I gestured to the table before us where at least one of everything from the grocery store’s candy aisle sat waiting to be eaten. “What else did the article say?”

  “It said that if you’re on a date...” He paused again. “I should do this.”

  I had a handful of popcorn halfway to my mouth when Dane reached over and slipped his arm over my shoulder. I coughed in surprise as the popcorn spilled from my hand and back into the bowl. “This is a date? I thought we were friends having a movie night.”

  “I don’t think I want to be friends,” Dane said, his eyes watching me carefully. “I don’t think I know what it means to be in love, but I want to find out.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Wow.”

  He moved the bucket of popcorn and slid a hand onto my cheek. “How will I know when I love you?”

  “You just will,” I told him. “And in the meantime… just keep doing what you were doing.” I wiggled back into my seat and moved his hand back onto my cheek. “You were about to kiss me, weren’t you?”

  “I was.”

  “Then what are you waiting for, Mr. Clark?”

  Three weeks had passed since I took a somersault off the Ferris wheel to rival Annalise’s best gymnastics moves. Except I deserved bonus points for not dying at the bottom, I thought, rolling over in bed as sunlight brightened my bedroom.

  Last night was the first one I’d spent at home in a long while. Dane and Mrs. Dulcet had insisted I stay at the Castle until I was feeling back to normal. Though it hadn’t taken long for me to recover physically, I suspected their request was as much for their peace of mind as it was for my physical health.

  I had to admit, it was weird not sleeping at the castle. The big expanse of Castlewood had almost begun to feel like home to me, a place that radiated warmth, security, and new friendships. My apartment, though sunny and cheery, suddenly felt a little bit empty, a little bit cold.