Alice: Book Two of The Kelly Hill Series

by Laura Gibson

  “I’m the girl you’re looking for.” She said carefully, as if she was afraid someone would hear her. Or see her. “I’m Alice.”

  Juliet swallowed to stop herself from choking on her own tongue. She had been looking for Alice for awhile now. As the only real lead she had in her case, Juliet knew she had to find Alice or that would be it. She would go back home empty handed and everything that had happened here in Charleston would mean absolutely nothing.

  Juliet Hilliard had been sent by the higher ups to track down where the rather expensive cocaine was coming from. So far it centered around Charleston, West Virginia and so Juliet knew there had to be something, or someone in this town, who knew what it was all about.

  At first, Juliet had labeled the drug as ‘Alice’. She had heard the name enough times now she thought they were just talking about the stuff they were buying. It took her awhile to figure out that Alice was, infact, a person.

  Now that person was standing in front of her, willingly.

  Alice slid a business card across the table and tapped it. “You’re gonna want this.”

  Juliet picked up the card and looked at it.

  Casimir Volkov

  Flipping over the card, Juliet spied a phone number scrawled out in flowery handwriting. Looking back up, Juliet went to say something to Alice, but she was gone, leaving the detective alone at the table.

  “Something wrong?” Rhett asked, approaching the table with two glasses of champagne in his hands.

  Juliet put the business card in her purse and smoothed out the frown that was set heavily on her brow. “Yeah, just thought I saw someone I knew is all.”

  Rhett was smart but he trusted her, “Ex-boyfriend?” He chuckled.

  “Something like that.” Juliet forced a laugh, gulping down champagne. She knew where she had heard the name Casimir Volkov before and it wasn’t going to be pretty when it all came out. Especially in concerns to Rhett Samuels.

  She sighed heavily, he had already been through so much, she had hoped to spare him from this, but it looked like everyone’s secrets caught up to them eventually.

  It didn’t take Juliet three weeks to call the number, but it took Alice three weeks to answer.

  Finally, they agreed on a time and a meeting place. Both were inconvenient to Juliet, but Alice was adamant.

  So now, Alice sat in her kitchen, drank coffee out of her novelty mug, and looked as though the entire world was falling down around her.

  “I think it’s safe to say, Juliet, that I’m here because I don’t want to die.” Alice said at last, if she were reciting lines from someone else’s life. “And I don’t want my brother to die either.”

  “Who’s your brother?” Juliet asked, hitting ‘record’ on the tape recorder and setting it on the table.

  “Kelly Hill.” Alice exhaled, “His name is Kelly Hill.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Charleston, West Virginia

  March 2nd, 2007

  Rhett

  The bass was loud and the club was full of gyrating sweaty bodies that rose the temperature well beyond what one would consider tolerable, but Rhett liked it better this way. With a drink in one hand and an arm slung around the nearest pretty girl who would dance with him, he actually felt fine.

  Time off from work was good, just what he figured he needed. Adding alcohol and warm bodies the mixture didn’t hurt either.

  Jane was a quiet woman with quiet tastes and he didn’t want to be reminded of that every single night. He’d much rather do the opposite of everything she liked doing. It made him feel better. It made him feel vindicated. As if he could hurt her from the grave. Pretend that she didn’t mean a thing to him after all. Prove to her that he could move on and he could be happy without her.

  A blonde gave him a come hither look and Rhett let himself make his way over to her through the throng of people.

  She had pretty hazel eyes and well taken care of teeth. Her lashes were fake and her spray-on tan was obvious, but her smile was genuine and the drink in her hand let him know she was here to have a good time.

  Wordlessly they danced together, hips lining up, her eyes closed, his eyes trying not to concentrate on her, trying to see anything else.

  The song bled into another one, one he recognized as a remixed version of one of Jane’s favorite songs and his brain gave lurch, telling the rest of his body that something was amiss. That something was wrong.

  Rhett tried to push past it, tried to blink away the blinding memories the simple chorus of a song brought up, but Jane was winning and Rhett looked at the twenty some girl he was dancing with and felt sick to his stomach.

  “Excuse me.” Rhett managed to get out over the music and she just nodded and moved away, onto the next person who would dance with her. Lonely people doing lonely things.

  Rhett squeezed out of the dance floor and exited the night club with his drink only marginally spilled.

  He inhaled the cold air and tried to steady his shaking nerves. He didn’t want to think about Jane. Didn’t want to see her face when he was trying so hard to forget her. He needed her to know she hadn’t won. She hadn’t beat him. She never would. He was going to move on and everything was going to be okay. She chose to stop living but he hadn’t. So why should his life reach a complete stand still?

  Jane had been gone almost a month and his family had packed up and headed back home. He should be okay to go out and have a good time without thinking about her. He should be allowed that one ounce of peace. He couldn’t eat in their home, couldn’t sleep in their bed, and he could barely survive in a world where all of his favorite places held traces of her still.

  The only thing he had now were the things she hated. Rhett sunk to his knees, feeling as if he was going to vomit. He swallowed and tried to stave off the feverish feeling.

  “Hey, you alright?” A feminine voice called out to him through the anxiety crushing his skull.

  “I’m fine.” His voice was rougher than usual and his frown had increased in the brief seconds he and this mystery woman had interacted. He didn’t want one more person asking if he was okay. He didn’t need one more woman looking after him. Like little clucking hens, his two sisters followed him around for four days, making him meals and making sure he ate them.

  He was positive they were also keeping a record of his shits, but he never worked up enough courage to ask. Now another female was inquiring after his wellbeing. Well, fuck that noise. He didn’t anyone looking after him. He never grew up with a mom, he was perfectly content having no such maternal figure.

  “You’re shaking.” She sounded firmer, closer, more real. Tangible.

  Rhett set his cup on the ground next to him and rubbed his face before he stood up. He turned to look at the woman and tell her just what he thought about her standing so close to him but the blood rushing to his head combined with too much alcohol had other ideas for his next move.

  And that was how Rhett Samuels puked all over Juliet Hilliard's nine hundred dollar Manolos.

  “That’s disgusting.” A tiny, bizarre looking red head standing next to the first woman said with a sneer and dead eyes.

  Rhett looked at the first speaker and tried to find different, better words. He had just thrown up all over her shoes and she was merely staring at him, as if it didn’t faze her in the least bit. As if this happened every day and she had expensive shoes to spare.

  He took in her shiny hair and her flawless skin and he figured she wasn’t new to the idea of ruining beautiful shoes. She was beautiful enough to go barefoot.

  “I’m sorry.” Rhett tried to make it look like he wasn’t going to hurl again but he might.

  “It’s fine.” She said, and it sounded like she meant it. “Is there anybody we can get to help you?”

  Rhett shook his head and tried not think of Jane or their home he knew he never wanted to see again… at least not tonight. “No.”

  “Jules.” The red head stamped her foot impatiently, her arms crossed o
ver her chest, “This guy is drunk.”

  The girl known as Jules looked Rhett up and down, her chocolate eyes surveying his very being. “You need some help?”

  Rhett must have made a face that told her yes because the next thing he knew, he was in a cab with the two of them, smelling his vomit on her shoes and staring at the window, wondering if he was getting kidnapped. He had never heard of a thirty year old man getting kidnapped by two good looking women.

  The taxi stopped outside a condo Rhett knew to be a rental only because he and Jane had looked at one on the same block. Hell, maybe they even looked at the same one. He wasn’t sure. All he could remember was that Jane had been wearing a lilac colored shirt that day and she looked phenomenal.

  “Come on, big guy.” Jules was helping him out of the car while redhead was still managing to be as disapproving as ever.

  Rhett put more weight on Jules then he knew was appropriate, but he hadn’t slept in weeks and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. She smelled nice and she was solid. Real. She was something he could hold onto. She didn’t cling and melt to him like the girls at the club, making him do all the work. She was firm and resolute. She was everything he was missing, and he never knew it.

  “You’ve never insisted on bringing guys home before,” Redhead was scolding Jules as she unlocked the door and let them inside.

  Jules helped Rhett get to the couch without responding to redhead’s sarcasm. With a heavy sigh, she walked off into another room where Rhett could hear a bathtub running.

  “She’s saving her shoes before she gets you water.” Redhead sounded almost pleased with this assessment.

  Rhett leaned back, exhausted, unsure of everything that was happening. Who were these women? And why did they insist on bringing him home with them? Well, the redhead didn’t want him around. But the other one, the beautiful one, she seemed like she cared. But why did she care? That was the real question here.

  Finally Jules came back out, glass of water in hand like redhead predicted. She handed it to Rhett before sitting down on the couch next to him.

  The cushion shifting to compensate for her weight made Rhett nervous. He knew he still had vomit breath and he didn’t want her sitting too close to smell it. That thought brought on another bout of nausea and he turned his face away from her and her feet. At the aforementioned feet he felt his eyes glance down and look at them. Yep, they were just as pretty as she was. Not that he had anything for feet. That would be creepy. But if he did, those feet would rank pretty high.

  Rhett stole a sideways look at her and noted she was staring at him, a small smirk on her face.

  “What’s going on, Captain?” She asked, as if it were a natural thing to call him captain. As if they had been friends for years, close confidantes.

  Rhett shrugged, still deciding whether or not he wanted to be honest with her. Or with himself.

  “You don’t look so good.” Jules made a face and Rhett took a sip of water, feeling it cool his angry insides that wanted to purge once more.

  “I don’t feel so good.” Rhett swallowed more water, his anxiety lessening.

  “Well, if you need to spew, spew in this.” Redhead handed him a dixie cup but her malicious facial expression ruined the joke for him.

  “Beat, don’t be mean.” Jules rolled her eyes and took the dixie cup away. Rhett watched it go, wondering if he might need it.

  He looked at the angry redhead, “Your name is Beet? Like the vegetable?”

  “Beets aren’t vegetables, they’re roots.” Beat seemed even more perturbed with him, “And no, my name is Beatrice. You can call me Beatrice.”

  “Vegetables have roots.” Rhett swallowed the rest of his water, feeling validated with his thoughts.

  “You really know how to pick ‘em, Jules.” Beat rolled her eyes and stalked off down the hall, clearly done with their house guest.

  “What’s going on that’s gotcha all worked up?” Jule’s tender fingers brushed the stray hair away from his brow and he could see her eyes had flecks of gold and bronze in them, swirling and mixing in the dim lighting, becoming one unit made up of several parts and colors.

  “Jane died.” Rhett felt his hollow self give up the truth and he hoped she hadn’t really heard him.

  “Jane was your girl?” Jule’s eyes were so soft and her tone was so rich, there was a hint of an accent but she wore it well.

  “She was the best of girls.” Rhett felt his body tremble with a sob that wanted to let loose but he couldn’t let it out, not here, not now. Not in front of this goddess of a woman who was strong and gentle and everything he wanted, everything he was looking for. Not in romance. Never in romance. But she was something that could hold him steady for a time. A kite string.

  “And she died?” Jules asked it simply and plainly and it didn’t hurt Rhett when he heard her say it.

  “Yes. She died.” He whispered.

  Charleston, West Virginia

  May 1st, 2008

  Juliet

  Alice had been at Juliet’s house for hours, only leaving when the garage door sounded and Juliet announced that her roommate was home.

  The amount of information Juliet was able to pull out of Alice in that span of time was amazing. Alice not only wanted to make sure her and her brother survived- she wanted to bring down everyone else involved. Her bitterness was fueled by injured pride and Juliet wondered what the last straw had been. What broke the proverbial camel’s back?

  Juliet was still sitting at the kitchen table, two coffee cups empty and set out before her, when Beat came into the room.

  Beat cleared her throat, “Want a fresh pot?”

  Juliet rubbed her tired face and tried to sit up straighter, “Yeah, if that’s cool with you.”

  “Of course, dear.” Beat started humming as she got down a new filter and prepared the new pot of coffee.

  Beat was Juliet’s best friend. Had been for years now. She had witnessed every side of Juliet there was to see and still she hung around. As if she knew Juliet needed her.

  Beat was short for Beatrice, a name that wasn’t all that catchy. She had grown up in a wildly scottish home with several brothers and no sisters. All children had been blessed with bright orange hair that wouldn’t be tamed for anything.

  Beat’s brothers were lucky. They could shave their heads to master the curls, but Beat wasn’t so lucky. Years ago she embraced the curl and wore her hair as wild as possible, claiming it was a form of artistic expression.

  As the new batch filled the glass pot, Beat sat down in Alice’s vacated chair. “Rough day?”

  Juliet shook her head, she couldn’t tell Beat any of this. This was a case after all, not new fodder for gossip. “You could say that.”

  Beat nodded, understanding, “Well, I sold a painting.”

  Juliet looked up, “Oh?”

  “Yeah, I mean, he wandered into the studio on accident, but at least I sold one.” Beat smiled.

  Juliet smiled back. Beat’s relationship with her art was a volatile one. On some days she loved it, on others… well, there was a reason they had a burn barrel in the backyard.

  It had been difficult for Beat to pick up and move away from the small following she had back home in California but when Juliet announced she was following a case to West Virginia, Beat started packing.

  It wasn’t something Juliet asked her to do, but it was something Juliet was eternally grateful for, no matter what. Without Beat she would be alone in this town and she wouldn’t have the much needed outlet.

  Juliet had always made sure every guy she brought home knew her and Beat were a package deal. If Beat didn’t like ‘em, she kicked them to curb faster than they could ask why.

  Beat and Juliet were the quintessential best friends and Juliet couldn’t imagine her life without good ol’ Beatrice.

  “He didn’t try to get a deal.” Beat snorted. “Made a big show about writing a check.”

  Beat held up the check for proof while tryin
g to hide a smirk.

  “You sold a painting for two-thousand dollars,” Juliet was surprised by the dollar amount first and then she looked at the name and her heart stopped. “To Casimir Volkov.”

  Beat noticed the pause in Juliet’s sentence, “What? You know the guy or something?”

  “Or something.” Juliet looked at Beat, wondering how much she could tell her friend without giving anything away.

  “He’s a good looking man.” Beat glanced over at the coffee pot and saw that it was full, “I mean, if you’re into hot foreign guys.”

  Juliet had seen pictures of Casimir Volkov, Beat wasn’t wrong. He could be described as handsome, but why he was buying paintings from her roommate? Was it just a coincidence or should Juliet assume something more nefarious was in the works?

  Did Casimir know Alice had been with Juliet? Should she be more worried about the siblings that Alice had put in her care?

  “Did he say anything to you?” Juliet tried to sound nonchalant.

  “No.” Beat shook her head, returning to the table with two cups of coffee, “Just that his wife would like it.”

  “What was the painting?” Juliet asked, trying to push past the shock in her brain.

  “Remember that wolf that was hanging around last year, ate some pets before someone shot it?” Beat took a drink of her coffee, “I painted it.”

  “Huh.” Juliet nodded to herself and stood up, grabbing her cup of coffee, “I have to do some work in my office, you’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah.” Beat smiled, understanding, “I gotta do some work anyway.”

  “We should celebrate your sale.” Juliet announced halfway down the hall on the way to her office.

  “Yeah, maybe I’ll take you and Rhett out to dinner.” Beat called back, “Take ya somewhere real fancy.”

  “Ooo. Maybe I’ll have to get dressed up.” Juliet laughed, finding her keys in her pocket and unlocking her office door.

  The last thing she heard as the door closed behind her was Beat laughing.