Once Upon a Murder

by Kodi Heart

  The dinner I’d eaten hardened into a tight knot in my stomach. I swallowed the suddenly dry bite in my mouth and gulped at my pop with an emotionally charged dehydration. If I looked anywhere but directly at her, it felt like I was avoiding or lying. If I met her gaze, I was on the spot and I wanted to cry.

  Did she really think I could’ve done it? Didn’t she know me at all? I wasn’t into killing anything. I hated killing bugs, for crying out loud.

  But she waited for my answer. Green-flecked white tartar sauce dripped from her sandwich to the wrapper-turned-place.

  I couldn’t answer her. I didn’t want to have to defend myself to Robyn. I told her when we showed up at her house the night of the murder that I hadn’t done it. Why wasn’t that enough?

  So, rather than answer her, I changed the topic. “Do you think I can go home anytime soon? I miss my cat, I miss my office.” I missed having my own house. Since Robyn had asked me if I’d done it, I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay at her place. I was a little upset she thought I could do that.

  Guilt flooded me. I’d considered her as the killer for a flash second that night, too.

  My best-friend leaned back enough to take a bite of her sandwich, her eyes trained on me. “Maybe. We can stop and ask Grant. He’s back his place tonight. He said something about needing to water his own plants for once.” She gracefully backed off the topic, but I sensed she was hurt that I hadn’t addressed her questions.

  It wasn’t her fault that she thought I could do it. The situation with David had been awful. I didn’t have to be a jerk about it. I dipped a still-hot mozzarella and poked the bright red saucy end at her. “I didn’t kill him, Robbie. If I was going to kill someone? I’d do it with a little more original class and I’d hide the body. Whoever did it, had plagiarized the style right out of Tesha’s scene. That’s just tacky.” I grinned, lending a lighter tone to our night.

  She giggled. “Can you imagine your style on a murder like that?” She leaned her head back and laughed. “There would be cat paw prints on everything and you’d most likely add silk sheets and whipped cream to the scene.”

  “Hey, wait a minute. I said I’d hide the body.” I finished the stick. It really was the perfect opportunity to broach the topic again. “I’m thinking of leaving the erotica world behind. I’m really interested in writing inspirational romance.”

  Robyn choked, her face turning red as she clutched at her throat. Eyes wide, she tried to cough, dragging in air that didn’t go all the way through her windpipe. She grasped at her cup, dragging her drink through her straw.

  I half-stood, reaching out to do something for her. I’m not sure what, but I was ready to cut open her throat, if I needed to.

  Her coughing died down and she slowly eased to her seat, breathing heavily as she stared at me in shock.

  “Uh, are you okay?” I reclaimed my spot on the bench seat, picking up a fry and eyeballing it like it might try to kill me, too.

  Robyn braced her hands on the table and spoke slowly. “What do you mean inspirational romance? You’re making more and more every week. Why would you leave behind that kind of success?” She picked up her sandwich and didn’t think twice about attempting to eat it again. I wouldn’t touch it, if it were me.

  I sighed, putting my dinner down and folding my arms. Robyn couldn’t fully understand. I’d gone into the world of erotica with innocent eyes. Now... I’d never get that naiveté back and that made me sad. The research alone was disturbing for someone like me and my readers asked for more and different and I was having a hard time figuring out how to make certain scenes different.

  “Is it okay, if I just say I’m burnt out on that genre and I want to go this route? I think I can do it. No, I know I can do it. I would have to use a different name.” Then I had an idea. As I stared at Robyn with her slack-jawed expression, I arched my eyebrows. “Why don’t you take over Roxxy’s stuff? You haven’t been sure what to focus on and you don’t have an established name yet. You can work on Roxxy’s stuff and I’ll work on Livvie’s stuff and then we’ll have multiple streams of income coming into the company. What do you think?” The more I considered the possibility, the more excited I became.

  Her fear morphed into one of consideration and she pressed her lips together. “Hmmm. I actually like the way that sounds.” She turned her head to the side and eyed me. “But, you’ll help me, right? That’s a lot of pressure. I can’t do this book right now, either.”

  I shook my head. “Of course! I won’t throw you in there. I’ll get this book out and then the next deadline is far enough out, we can work on the next book together. I’ll continue critiquing the work and we’ll make sure the voice is similar. While we’re doing that, I can start building the name for the inspirational work.” I gave a small squeal and scooted to the edge of my seat, excited enough to push the looming murder charge to the side. At least for the short time I sat in that booth. “Oh, say you’re going to do it. That would be so fun.”

  She nodded slowly, excitement building into a large grin. “Yes. That would be so fun. I’m going to make Ryan call me Roxxy.” She winked and shoved a fry into her mouth.

  “Don’t choke on me. You’re now an even bigger asset.” I pointed at her food and resumed eating mine.

  “Let’s get some food for Grant. He’ll love us, if we show up with the Cheddar Melt. Those are his favorites.” She took another bite, unaware that the mention of Grant loving us brought a memory to mind of him and me hiding in his rig with a bag of Arby’s and one thing on our mind – spending time together.

  I nodded in agreement. “Of course.” I could bring something to Grant, even if it wasn’t an answer from Robyn or the killer for my case.

  In the car, I held the hot bag of food on my lap and we tossed ideas about books back and forth, laughing at inappropriate comments.

  “I’m a little too excited.” Robyn spun the wheel sharply as we reached the turn toward Grant’s place. The tires squealed as we slid into the turn too fast.

  I grabbed onto the “oh, crap bar” and squeezed my eyes shut. “For the love, does Kami drive as crazy as you or what?”

  “What?” Robyn shot a questioning look my way. “I feel so bad for her. She’s going through a lot. Something is going on with her books. She didn’t want to get into it, but I think she lost everything. Maybe her computer crashed or something.” We fell silent at the horror only writers would understand. Well, maybe other people, too. I liked to pretend that writers sometimes had different woes than other people. Maybe yoga pants and carpal tunnel would be mutually exclusive to writers.

  I opened my mouth to ask how she knew, as we pulled into Grant’s driveway, but I stopped as we pulled in front of his house. Light spilled from the bulb above the garage, flashing on shards of glass from his front door across the patio and down the steps.

  We gasped in unison, whipping our seatbelts off and springing from the car. The house was dark.

  “Is he here?” Robyn searched the yard and the house for a sign that her brother hadn’t been around for the break-in. “I hope he's okay. Come on. I don’t think... oh, wait, there’s his truck.” Worry pressed her forward, as she clutched my bicep. His truck had been parked on the side of the garage. He did that when he planned on being home for a few days.

  If he was home, why were the lights off?

  Dread pooled in my stomach and we thundered up the stairs. The glass crunched under our shoes in the edgy silence. Picking over the biggest chunks, we reached the gaping hole of the front door. We panted in sync, like we’d sprinted down the road. I felt like that could be the case with how fast my pulse raced.

  Robyn reached the door first, hunching over to reach out for the handle. The knob turned easily and she pulled the door open. Flipping the light switch, she looked back at me when the lights didn’t come on. She flipped them a couple times, calling out, “Grant! Are you in here?”

  Through the eerie silence a muffled curse reached us from above. A gun shot rang o
ut.

  I slapped my hand over my mouth, my eyes wide. Robyn growled, reaching back to push me to the stairs. “Stay here, in case they try to come this way. Stop them.” She didn’t look at me as she advanced into the dark.

  What was I supposed to do? Stopping anyone that came through that way would be hard with my short frame, but I’d certainly try. If anyone tried to get away. Grant couldn’t have been shot. Not Grant. My chest hurt. Why was Robyn running off into the dark? She’d made me stay, when we had to be safer and more formidable as a pair.

  Defending Grant spurred the fire inside me, that and my fear at being alone. I punched my fist into my open palm, not sure what I would do against a gun, but certain that no one was going to get out if they tried shooting at Grant. He had to have been the one doing the shooting. That man always had a gun at his hip.

  I stepped inside to see if I could see Robyn. Her silhouette reached the top of the stairs with the light from the garage motion light shining through the window. A shadow rammed into her, knocking her to the side with an oomph, then kicking her down the stairs. Robyn yelled and was suddenly quiet when she reached the bottom of Grant’s flight of stairs. Was she okay?

  There wasn’t time to check. The shadow took the stairs two at a time, bounding over Robyn at the bottom.

  I fell into a crouch like I was in basketball again, hands up in case someone passed me the ball. The shadow reached me and I walked backwards out the door, scuttling like a crab. My attempts to seem threatening didn’t stop the person, instead they reached out and shoved me.

  Reaching out, I grabbed their sleeve, tugging the person along with me as I fell off-balance. In less than a second, we tripped, falling to the cement patio. My elbow and tailbone hit at the same time and red bursts of pain split across my vision. Muffled grunts from my attacker and groans from me mingled. Our hard fall didn’t slow the person down as they untangled themselves from me, stood up, and sprinted off into the night.

  Catching my breath, I scrambled as fast as I could to my feet, looking around in case they lingered in the area. Gasping for air, I bent over, my hands unsteady on my knees. Robyn. Grant. Were they okay? I didn’t waste any more time. Spinning, I turned to run inside.

  I wasn’t sure there wasn’t another assailant inside, but I couldn’t wait to check. I needed to find out why Robyn had fallen silent.

  Running to the base of stairs, I felt around for her. “Robyn? Robyn!”

  The soft sounds of her breathing and moaning directed me where to go. “Are you okay? Where’s Grant?” I fell to my knees beside her, touching any parts of her I could reach. I didn’t feel any blood.

  “I’m here.” His large shape moved slowly down the steps. “Is she okay?” He reached us and helped Robyn to sit up.

  “I’m fine, just dazed. I took those steps too fast.” She shook her head, the soft strands of her hair tickling my hand as I found her shoulder to help steady her. “Did either of you see who it was?”

  Grant’s hand found my fingers I didn’t have on Robyn. He squeezed them and I felt his relief that we were both okay in his grasp. I blinked back tears, shaking my head. “I didn’t. Should we go outside? Grant, your lights don’t work. Are you shot?” My words flowed from my mouth like a flood.

  His voice was gruff as we all stood and he released my hand. “Yeah, the main electricity was cut outside the house. I have the garage hooked in on a different line. I didn’t see them either. I’m fine. My wall isn’t.”

  We moved outside and I pulled my phone out. “I’ll call 911.” I punched in the numbers and blinked as Grant held a hand over mine to stop me.

  “Don’t. I’m not sure if it had to do with your case or my undercover case.” He ran his hand down his face.

  I searched him for injury, taking in any evidence of Robyn’s as well. They both seemed fine, just shaken. My elbow suddenly throbbed enough to get my attention. My lower back was going to make itself known the next day.

  “Let’s just take a minute.” Robyn pulled out her phone. She lifted her hand to Grant and raised her eyebrows. “I’m not calling 911, but I am going to call Ryan. I just need to hear his voice.”

  I understood. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to curl into Grant’s arms and cry in relief.

  I wasn’t stupid. The attacker had been there for me. For my case. And Grant was trying to protect me.

  Did I deserve that, if I was putting them all in danger?

  Chapter 15

  Tears were imminent all week and I wanted everything to be over.

  Things were getting serious. The situation was no longer isolated to one murder or even the threatening letter in my house. Too many coincidences tied everything together, first David and then Grant?

  Nobody liked me enough to kill out of jealousy. I didn’t even have any jilted lovers or anything else exciting. All I had going for me was my writing and even that was fairly secret. Paul Davis wasn’t an ex-boyfriend and the man was a straight cop. He was overly anal in following the rules.

  Robyn stepped off to the side, talking to Ryan. She was near tears and spoke fast, caught up in the release of adrenaline.

  Grant and I wandered to the side of the patio, claiming a seat on his wicker love chair, our knees almost touching. I looked out over the yard that was in blue-white tones from the LED light. Someone had been out there. I was so tired and my eyes blinked as if in slow motion. “Do you think we’ll ever get a normal night's rest?” I tried laughing, but it came out sounding more plaintive than playful.

  I still gripped my phone like a lifeline, staring around me like I was seeing the world for the first time. My phone buzzed in my fingers, jolting me with another burst of energy. Who was calling me at 1130 at night? Turning over the phone to see the screen, I furrowed my brow at my Aunt Kathy’s name and picture flashing on the screen. I answered, leaning forward with worry. “Aunt Kathy? Is everything okay? Is bingo just getting out?”

  Her answering laugh brought me up short. “Oh, honey, we don't play bingo. That’s for old people. Our age in years may be high, but we’re not old. We've been out at some dance clubs. Actually, we were wondering, if you could come pick us up. Something's wrong with the car, and it won't start. Cari doesn’t want to try Uber. She thinks serial killers will get us.”

  I raised my wide eyes to Grant and held my hands out. “Sure, Aunt Kathy. I can come get you. Would you like to just stay at Robyn's house with us tonight? We can take you to your place in the morning.” I didn’t have to ask Robyn. We had a standing relationship where we acted first and explained later.

  Grant pulled his phone from his back pocket and made a call, standing from the chair and moving to the edge of the porch. His voice was too low to make out his words but not too low I couldn’t feel his tone skimming down my back.

  Her answer was unconcerned. “That sounds fine, dear. We’re at the gas station in Athol. Can we expect you in fifteen or twenty minutes?”

  I agreed, turning off the phone and tucking it in my pocket. For someone who was stranded, Aunt Kathy didn't sound very upset.

  Robyn hung up on her call and claimed Grant’s abandoned seat, crossing her legs and leaning her arms on her knee.

  Grant ended his call and approached Robyn and me. “They’re going to send a team to process this mess. We can’t be here when they arrive. Robyn, is it okay if I crash at your house again tonight? I know it's going to be crowded with Olivia there, but I need a place to stay.” He didn’t look at me but I knew he was as aware of me as I was of him.

  I cleared my throat. “I just got off the phone with Aunt Kathy. They’re stranded over at the Athol gas station. And that’s not all. They need to stay at Robyn's tonight, too. We can drop them off at their place in the morning.” I pressed my lips together. The aunts would get my room and I’d be stuck with Robyn or – great – in the living room with Grant.

  A mischievous grin spread Grant’s lips in a lopsided curve. “I like your aunts. This should be fun.” He chuckled.
Of course he liked them, he was male and they fawned over good-looking men.

  I would have to get more details from him in the car as to just why he liked them, though.

  “Oh, my word. It's going to be crazy in Casa de Robyn tonight.” Robyn rolled her eyes, but smiled. She didn’t care. And after what we had just dealt with, I had no doubt that she was grateful for the company. She might change her mind after a night with my aunts.

  I sat beside Robyn in her car and turned to face her and to also include Grant in the conversation. “Did you tell Craig about the scissors and the high heels? I never mentioned the scissors. The Press didn't either.”

  “What makes you say that?” With her hands on the steering wheel, Robyn glanced at me and slowly braked to a stop at the intersection of Clagstone and Highway 54. She drove sensibly with her cop brother in the car. She cared more about what he thought than if I lived or not.

  Grants braced his hands on the back of the car seats. He leaned closer, the fresh ocean scent of his cologne distracting me for a moment.

  I shifted on my seat and narrowed my eyes. “Craig said something about the scene at the critique session. But I don't think it's him. I keep getting things wrong. I didn't mention the scissors to anyone. He knew the details like he’d been there. He said he was talking to you, Kami, and Tesha. If you didn’t tell him, and Kami and Tesha weren’t there, then how did Craig know? I can't figure out what's going on here.” I rubbed my aching elbow, watching the headlights of other cars pass us in the opposing lane.

  Grant touched my shoulder. The dim insides of the car made the moment more intimate than I was ready to deal with. He glanced between Robyn and I. “He lives in Spokane, doesn't he? Let's stop by and see him tomorrow when you drop off your aunts. I can’t go back to work until tonight’s event is cleared from being involved with my case. I don’t have anything to do. I can go with you two.”