“What are we lookin’ for?” a low voice asked.
“I don’t know. Whatever she’d store files on.”
“Looks like the place is pretty trashed. Do you think we’ll find somethin’ the cops haven’t?”
“They don’t know what they’re looking for.”
“Technically, neither do I.”
“Right, well, keep an eye out then,” the second man demanded. “I’ll look.”
I bit my lip and slid my phone from my pants pocket. Luckily it was on silent. I fired off a quick text to my brother and then sat and waited.
“Do you think they know who actually killed the asshole?” the first man asked.
Dammit! I should have been recording this!
“Don’t know, don’t care. Shut up so I can focus.”
Frustrated I hadn’t thought of it sooner, I slid my finger to the camera icon on my phone, and started to record.
Doors and drawers were opened and closed.
“Holy shit!” the first man said. “Did you spread blood in her bathroom? That’s brilliant!”
“When would I have done that? I was with you the whole time. Now go back to the door while I check the kitchen.”
Well, damn it!
“Don’t forget to check the freezer. People are always hiding shit in frozen meat in the movies.”
“Good idea,” the second man said.
His footfalls grew louder, and I set my phone down and braced my gun. He took one step into Dylan’s kitchen.
I held my breath.
Another step. Now I could see his black boot. Sirens screamed outside.
He froze.
The sirens grew closer.
“Check that out, would you?” the second man asked.
Footsteps shuffled across the carpet. “Shit, five-o’s pullin’ into the lot.”
“One of her nosey-ass neighbors must have called them. We’ll have to come back.”
They left. I counted to ten, then poked my head up to confirm they were in fact gone. Setting my gun on the island, I fisted and unfisted my hand, trying to get it to stop shaking. The front door slammed open, banging against the wall, and two uniformed cops, guns drawn, rushed inside.
“Gun!” one of them yelled, and then I was on the floor, hands behind my back, being cuffed.
“I’m not the intruder!” I screamed, my breath shallow since I was on my stomach. “There were two men.”
“Clear!” someone called, and I was dragged off the floor (still handcuffed).
“Who are you?” one of the officers—a female—demanded.
“My name is Addison Allen.” I shook my head in an attempt to get my hair out of my eyes. “This is my sister’s apartment.”
“She’s not actually your sister,” Jake countered as he walked in. “Is she, Addison?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe not legally,” I grumbled.
“I’ve got this,” he said to the officer, and made his way to me, taking my hands and uncuffing me. He handed the cuffs to the woman (who, by the way, was looking at him like she wanted to devour him, which pissed me off).
“Need me to bag the weapon?” she asked.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. She has a concealed permit.” Jake smiled. “I’ll take it from here, Miller. You guys get back on your beat.”
The officers walked out of the apartment and I reached for my gun. I didn’t get far. Jake’s large hand covered mine and he leaned down so he could meet my eyes. “What are you doing here, Addison?”
“I could ask the same of you.” I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a little high up on the pay scale to show up for a suspected break-in?”
“I’m here because your brother got your text and I wouldn’t let him come.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “Thanks for that. He could have been hurt.”
“He could have been hurt?” he snapped. “What about you?”
I nodded toward my firearm that we were both still touching. “I have a gun.”
“Are you shittin’ me?” he ground out. “Either you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, or the dumbest... right now I’m leaning toward the latter.”
“Either you’re the most fascinating man I’ve ever met, or you’re a dick... right now, I’m leaning toward the latter,” I countered nastily.
He dragged his hands through his hair, which meant I could grab my gun and put it back in my purse. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
I moved to leave, but he grabbed my arm. “Not so fast.”
His touch electrified me and all I could think about was what it would be like to have those big strong hands explore my body. I swallowed... hard... but managed to keep myself from jumping him. “Please let me go.”
He did. Immediately. “What are you doing here, Addison?” he asked again.
“I’m getting Dylan’s stuff. She’s moving in with me.”
“So you came alone?”
“I didn’t really have a choice, Jake,” I said. “My brother’s with her. It’s not like I could call anyone else.”
“You could have called me. Should have called me.”
“And why exactly would I call you?”
He crossed his arms and leaned against the island until he could see out the front door. “You see that police tape out there that says, ‘crime scene, do not enter’?”
“Oh, you mean the tape just beyond the broken door? You know, the broken door that your people haven’t secured, which means anyone could walk in here and rob her blind and there’s not a damn thing she’d be able to do about it? Ah, no, I must have missed that tape.”
He groaned.
“Speaking of which, her laptop is missing. Please tell me you have it.”
“Why do you want to know? Is there something on there that can incriminate her? Is that what you’re here looking for?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I asked, wanting to punch him. “There were just two guys in her apartment talking about the murder and looking for something. If what they’re looking for is on her computer, I want to make sure someone else didn’t come through the door the cops broke and steal it.”
He pulled a notepad and pencil from his pocket and said, “Start from the beginning and tell me everything.”
My phone was still recording, but I wasn’t about to surrender it to him. I pushed the button to stop it and slid it into my pocket. Then I told him (almost) the full story.
Dylan
ASHER HUGGED ME again. I’m pretty sure physical contact with an inmate was off limits, but he didn’t seem to care as he pulled me into his chest. I breathed in the clean, spicy scent of him.
“Someone is setting me up,” I whispered.
He smoothed my hair back from my face then pulled my chin up, forcing my gaze on his. “I know, and we’re going to find out who. I know this will be difficult for you, considering your past, but I need you to promise me you’ll be okay in here until Monday.”
“Until Monday?”
“Oregon doesn’t hold bond court on the weekends.”
I had to stay locked in that freaking cell all weekend. The reality of it crushed the air from my lungs. Forcing myself to breathe anyway, I smiled at him. “Piece of cake. I already took down the biggest chick in there, and I’m currently fashioning a shiv out of a plastic spoon. I got this.”
He chuckled and kissed my forehead. My stomach started gurgling, so I stepped away. He gathered the photos of my dead ex-boss and stuck them back into his briefcase. We lingered there, between uncomfortable silence and good-bye avoidance.
“You should probably go,” I finally admitted. No need for us both to spend the day locked in a cell.
“Yeah. I have a lot of work to do.”
I grimaced. “Sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you anticipated spending your weekend.”
“I signed up for this, Dylan. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I took the bar. You’re the one being dragged in, and I’m sorry. Detective
Parker is a good guy, and I’m sure he’ll get to the bottom of this and figure out who really left that body on your doorstep.”
I didn’t share his faith in the legal system, so all I could do was nod.
Shortly after Asher left, and I was taken back to my cell, Detective Pike swung by and informed me that Addison had put money in my account. I didn’t even know I had an account, and I certainly didn’t want my friend filling it with her money. But when I realized I could buy decent toothpaste, snacks, and an extra blanket, I felt nothing but absolute gratitude.
Addison showed up for the Saturday afternoon visit. She appeared on the other side of the Plexiglas partition and immediately started wiping down her chair and countertop with a bleach wipe. I picked up my receiver and waited, watching her take out a second wipe and start on the phone. She looked so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but giggle.
She picked up her receiver and mean-mugged me. “Stop laughing at me. You have no idea what kind of germs are on these phones.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.”
“I wish I could slip you a bleach wipe.”
And I wished she could slip me right out of there, but mentioning that would only make her feel bad, so I nodded. “Me too.”
“How is it in there?” she asked.
Lonely. Scary. God, don’t let me get stuck in here. “Not too bad. I’ll survive. Thanks for the money, by the way. I’ll pay you back when I get out.”
“First, nice deflection,” Addison retorted, “but don’t think I’m not onto you. Second, don’t be an idiot. I’ll give you money any time I want, and you’ll just have to deal with it.”
I blinked back tears. “Addie—”
She waved away my protests. “Deal with it, Dylan. You can’t stop me from in there.” She crossed her legs and straightened her shirt. “Besides, it’s the only thing I can do right now, and that pisses me off. Now talk to me about how you’re really holding up.”
“I don’t want to. Can we please just talk about what you’ve been up to?”
She eyed me for a moment before agreeing. Then she launched into a tale about muffins, her gun, and the apparently delicious detective working on my case. If it was anyone but Addison, I’d swear she was making the entire thing up. I shook my head, laughing.
“So you’ve got a thing for Detective Parker?” I asked, still unable to believe my ears.
“I did not say that!” she replied, sounding like I’d accused her of committing treason or something. “But ohmigod, Dylan, have you seen him? We’re talking Patrick Flueger meets Johnny Depp-type yummy.”
My mind did a visual mashup of those two men, creating a Picasso-inspired nightmare that was anything but “yummy.” “How does that even…?” I shook my head. “Never mind. I get it. Built, dark, and handsome, with over-sexed hair. That’s kind of your thing.” Yep, Detective Parker was definitely Addison’s type, whereas mine was… well… Asher. I couldn’t remember ever being attracted to anyone else.
“What the hell is ‘over-sexed hair’?”
“The kind that is a perfect mess…like he’s been laid often…and well.”
“Whatever. He’s hot.”
“It sounds like I got locked up so you could meet the man of your dreams. No wonder you’re putting money in my account to pay me off.”
“Not funny. But yeah, he makes me all floaty, and when he smiles... well, it’s a most definite panty-losing kind of smile.”
“Gah. TMI, Addie. Way TMI.” I’d never seen her like this before. Sure, my bestie lusted over hot guys, but her eyes didn’t normally take on that dreamy haze they had now. It was like she’d stepped out of the script of The Notebook or one of those other lame romance movies she loved so much. I didn’t even want to know what was going on in her mind. “What’s wrong with you? You just met the guy. It’s like you’re in heat or something. I swear, Addie, if you start spraying all over the place, I’m out.”
That snapped her out of it. “Ha-ha,” she deadpanned. “He’s a little old, but I can maybe work with it.”
“How do you know how old he is?”
“I asked Asher.”
I waited for her to fill me in, but she didn’t. “Ohmigod, Addie. How old is he?”
“Thirty.”
“That’s ancient,” I droned sarcastically.
She grinned. “Just as long as he has enough energy to give me babies, I’m good.”
I rolled my eyes. When Addison decided she wanted something, she generally got it, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the detective proposed within a year and she had a baby soon after.
All too soon it was time for Addison to leave. She promised to return Sunday for both the morning and the afternoon visits, which was impressive since the morning visit was so early. She teared up a little when the guard herded her toward the door, but I put on a brave face and promised her I’d be okay.
The rest of the weekend crept by in a sleep-deprived haze of buzzers, ominous door clicks, and barely-edible food. Seriously, Saturday night’s meal was some sort of soup comprised of the week’s leftovers, making me beyond grateful for the snack money Addison had put on my account.
True to his word, Asher got me out on bail Monday morning. There was absolutely no way I could go back to my apartment (the crime scene), so I didn’t even argue when Addison insisted I stay with her. Arguing was actually out of the question since everything but my furniture had magically made its way into Addison’s second master bedroom. Granted, my furniture consisted of a mattress, a box-spring, a couch, and a nightstand, but they were mine. Every time I asked her how she’d gotten past the police tape to spring my stuff, she just smiled coyly and said she had her ways.
“I’m out of jail now, Addie. You can stop trying to find ways to get locked up with me,” I said as we drove toward her condo.
“Oh honey, this isn’t about you. I’m trying to get locked up with Detective McSexypants now. I wonder how good he is with those handcuffs…”
“Detective McSexypants?” I gagged. “You make him sound like a happy meal.”
“Well…”
I turned up the radio, drowning her out before she could traumatize me for life.
As soon as we got to her condo, I stripped and climbed into the shower, where I tried to scrub off the nauseating scent of jail. It felt like it had seeped beneath my skin, though, which meant I wouldn’t get rid of it until Kirk’s murderer was found.
And what if they didn’t find his murderer? Would I get locked up for a crime I didn’t commit? It was my knife, after all. And he was found in front of my apartment. At least the tests had come back from the blood in the bathroom and I’d been embarrassingly cleared there.
By the time I dressed, dried my hair, and reemerged, I felt discouraged. Sure, I was out of jail now, but how long would my freedom last? I plopped down on the sofa and waited for Addison, who was standing in the doorway paying the takeout delivery guy.
When she finished, she nodded me off the sofa, setting a gigantic bag of food on the dining room table next to fancy china and silverware she’d put there earlier (she was weird that way... when you ate at Addison’s, you ate properly).
“You’re my favorite,” I said, scooting my chair in.
“I know. I’m amazing.” She smiled and waved toward the food. “Dig in, honey. Etiquette be damned tonight.”
I chuckled and dumped noodles on her Royal Copenhagen dinner plate that probably cost more than my car and made me nervous every time I handled it. Thankful for the first real meal I’d had since Friday night, I gobbled down the food while Addison picked at her plate, seemingly distracted.
“Thanks for buying all my favorite shampoo and stuff,” I said. “I can’t believe you found a black toothbrush.”
“Yeah.”
“And thanks for the giant stuffed unicorn.”
“Anytime.”
“You didn’t get me a giant stuffed unicorn.”
“Huh?”
I set down my
fork and asked, “Okay, Addie, what’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking about this situation,” she replied.
“And…?” I prodded.
“And what if they don’t find the killer?”
I wanted to tell her not to be so pessimistic, but I’d been thinking the same thing. “I still didn’t do it, and they have to prove I did.”
“Theoretically. But I don’t think we should leave that to chance.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You’re one of the smartest people I know, and I’m intuitive, with mad people skills. Plus, I watch all those murder shows, you know? I’ve learned a lot from them. I bet if we really put our minds together and worked on it, we could solve this mystery and find the killer ourselves.”
“Possibly.” I took another bite, thinking over her proposition.
“I know it sounds crazy, but why not? It’s not like we have anything to lose by trying.”
“Good point. But yes, it does sound crazy.”
“Come on, Dylan. I want to help you. You’d do everything you could if I was the one facing murder charges. I say we do this. We solve the crime, clear your name, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll impress the sexy pants off Detective Jake Parker in the process.”
I laughed. “Oh, so that’s what this is really about, huh? Using my misfortune to seduce you a cop?”
She kicked me gently under the table. “No, but that’s what I call turning a negative into a positive. It’s a good thing, Dylan. Help me.”
Of course I’d help her. Addison was right, I had nothing to lose. And if I didn’t do something, I’d probably go insane from worry long before the case ever went to trial.
“I’m in. And that poor cop has no clue what he’s gotten himself into.”
“If he’s lucky, he’ll be getting into my pants.” She rolled her body suggestively, then stood long enough to throw in a couple of hip thrusts.
I began to laugh uncontrollably, choking on the bite I’d just taken.
“What?” she demanded.
It took me a minute to bring my coughing under control enough to level a stare at Addison. “You wanna have little cop babies, don’t you?”
Dial A for Addison (S.A.F.E Detective Agency Book 1) Page 5
