Tall, Dark and Deadly Books 1 - 4

by Lisa Renee Jones

  He was making things easy on her. His willingness to help without asking too many questions kept her from explaining her role in the case. And she was damn thankful for that little prize. “I need you to tell me every little detail you can think of that might help.”

  They spent the next hour talking about Elizabeth and her habits, likes, and dislikes. Things her parents wouldn’t know, because college-age kids didn’t show that side to them. Rick’s frequent interruptions, though irritating, did offer insight. Several times, things Todd left out of his stories, Rick brought to light, and then Todd would elaborate. When she felt she was out of questions, she stood and stretched. “Well, you have given me a lot to check out. I appreciate your time.”

  Next stop, the Pink Panther.

  *

  Lindsey arrived at the Pink Panther only minutes later. Located a few blocks from Todd’s place, she had walked. She wasn’t surprised to find the front painted pink, which made it stand out amongst the row-to-row buildings. She stuck her sunglasses in her purse as she pulled the doors open. Her eyes strained against dim fluorescent lighting. Blinking several times, she stood still and willed her eyes to adjust. Shadows danced along the walls, and she searched for a source. Odd, rainbow-colored spotlights were placed in each corner of the room.

  Taking several tentative steps forward, she let her eyes drift around her surroundings. Barstools and tables lined a large dance floor. A doorway at the far side of the room gave her a glimpse of what appeared to be several pool tables with pink velvet coverings. “Classy,” she muttered under her breath.

  A bar ran the length of the far wall. Smoke climbed into the air from a lone ashtray sitting near the cash register. Bingo. Signs of life. She made her way towards it, ready to get answers and be on her way. This place gave her the creeps. Knowing it was somehow linked to four dead woman⎯maybe more, if Hudson and Williams were innocent—made the feeling worse.

  Lindsey leaned across the bar, trying to see inside an open door directly across from her. “Hello,” she called. No response. She tried again but louder. “Hello.”

  This time a gruff-looking, overweight man came through the door with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He looked at Lindsey and then down at the ashtray. “Damn, if I didn’t do it again.”

  He moved forward and stubbed out the cigar. His eyes went to Lindsey, irritation clear in his look. “What do want, lady?”

  Nice, she thought. “I want to ask a few questions about some girls who have frequented your place of business.”

  He snorted. “Hey, if their ID says they’re legal, we did our job.”

  Guilty bastard. “I hadn’t given your ID procedures any thought, but you’re full of great ideas.”

  His reply was quick and vehement. “Don’t play games with me, lady. What exactly do you want?”

  Lindsey watched his face. “I want to know about four dead girls who just happened to party here the night they were murdered.”

  “I don’t know nothing about any dead girls,” he said roughly.

  “I see we have a visitor.”

  A slight accent laced the voice that came from behind. Lindsey turned her back to the bar, facing the newcomer. He was tall, deeply tanned, with a menacing presence that crawled up her skin like a snake. Slowly he sauntered towards her, his movements graceful, his demeanor arrogant. His tan pants and matching blazer were expensive and well tailored. He reeked of money, power, and something more sinister. The word “evil” came to mind.

  “She’s talking about some murdered girls,” the bartender grumbled.

  “Is that so?” the dark stranger asked, sauntering across the room and stopping way too close to Lindsey. He stared at her with eyes as black as coal, his deep, heavy brows framing them in a forbidding way. To some he might have been attractive. To Lindsey he felt dangerous. “Paxton isn’t it?”

  Lindsey almost gasped. For him to know who she was seemed impossible. She managed to keep a blank expression. Showing any sign of weakness seemed imprudent. “And you are?”

  “Victor Ruzo, Ms. Paxton,” he said coolly, almost too coolly, “the owner of the Pink Panther.” He motioned with his hand to indicate their surroundings.

  “Just the man I need to speak with.”

  He leaned against the bar, his eyes watchful, intent. “About the murders,” he said, as if he found the subject intriguing.

  Lindsey’s composure started to waver, and she was thankful for her practiced, courtroom poker face. “Yes,” she said leaning on the bar herself, trying to seem as cool as he did. “Why don’t you tell me about the murdered girls?” She paused for a beat. “Did you know them well?”

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked, changing the subject, as he flagged the bartender.

  “Need something to calm your nerves?” she asked.

  He brushed aside her question. “Vodka, Larry, and bring the lady one as well.” Then he turned back to Lindsey. “I didn’t know any of those girls, Ms. Paxton.”

  She rejected his response. “They all knew this place.”

  Larry set down the drinks. Victor reached for his, taking a slow sip before his eyes met hers above the rim of the glass. “I make it a point to know about certain things.” Victor gave her a challenging look. “Especially things that directly impact my business.”

  Lindsey’s eyes narrowed. “And how exactly has your business been impacted?”

  He sat his glass down with a clank and propped his foot up on a metal rail. “My bar was mentioned in the news several times. There was a huge write-up about you as well. About how you got him off so he could kill again. Stunning picture of you, by the way. A beautiful young attorney who knows how to get killers off certainly got my attention.”

  Lindsey felt the words like the slap they were meant to deliver. She stared at him, struggling to pull herself together. For his painful remark, she lashed out. “Each and every one of the victims were at your bar the night of their attacks. That’s a pretty damning scenario, if you ask me.”

  He smiled. “You seem very tense.” He shoved her glass towards her. “I think you should drink this.”

  How could he act so nonchalant about a string of murders connected to his bar? “You haven’t heard the last of this.” Feeling the need to escape, Lindsey started towards the door.

  “Come back again, Lindsey,” he said from behind her. She cringed, hating how he said her name … so familiarly. He continued with arrogance, “Next time, we can get to know each other better.”

  Lindsey walked faster, forcing herself not to run, relieved when she reached the front door. She shoved it open and darted towards the street, only to run smack into something hard. Big hands closed on her shoulders, retracting the blow of her charging form.

  “Wow, now, pretty lady.”

  Lindsey’s eyes shot up as shock washed over her. Tom’s roommate, Rick stood before her, his hands lingering on her arms. She stepped back, feeling as if she had been attacked. She didn’t like the man, and after her encounter with Victor she was feeling more than a little freaked out.

  Forcing words from her lips took effort. “Ah, sorry,” she muttered.

  He gave her a grin. “Anytime you want to bump into me,” he said with a smile, “feel free.”

  Any remnant of diplomacy Lindsey might have managed disappeared. “Why are you here?” she demanded.

  He laughed. “Well now, little darling, my heart is broken.” He held his hand over his chest. “Obviously you’re not as pleased to see me as I am you.”

  Lindsey repeated the question, a demand in her voice. “Why are you here?”

  He grinned. “I work here, of course.”

  *

  Mark walked through the front door of the long-term care facility where Edward Paxton was being treated with a predatory-type stride. He carried himself with confidence through the hall, only remotely aware of the curious stares he received. Stopping at the front desk, he was greeted by a young brunette nurse who gave him Edward’s room informa
tion.

  It was well past time he and Edward had a long talk.

  Mark found Edward’s room empty. Frustrated, he started to turn away, intent on going back to the front desk and asking for more information. But his eyes caught on a figure outside the window. Edward sat in the courtyard beyond, his profile to the room. To say Mark was shocked at Edward’s appearance would have been an understatement. The man had made a complete physical transformation. Thin and pale, he looked so unlike the robust man he had been only a short time before, that the change seemed almost impossible.

  With a strained sigh, Mark turned away from the window and headed towards the courtyard. No matter how ill Edward was, there were matters that had to be discussed. A short walk later, preparing for a bitter welcome, Mark stepped to the front of the wheelchair.

  Edward’s eyes went wide. “What in the hell are you doing here?” He half-yelled the words.

  A nurse eyed them and started forward. He shot her a glare that stopped her in her tracks, and refocused on Edward. “We have a few matters to discuss.” Mark’s tone was sharp, yet calm.

  “We have nothing to discuss. Get the hell away from me and my company, and especially my daughter!”

  “You handed your daughter a damn mess, Edward. Paxton is six months, at most, from bankruptcy.”

  “That’s crap, Reeves. Besides, my daughter is very capable.” He spat the words at Mark as his forehead fell into deep creases.

  Mark stared at him with utter disbelief. Where was the man’s sense? This was not the person he had gone to work for years before. He was putting his own desires above his daughter’s happiness. Not only that, he was putting the employees and partners of the firm at risk.

  “Lindsey doesn’t even want to work at Paxton, let alone run it. For God’s sake , she has never even looked at the books. She is hardly prepared to deal with bankruptcy, irate partners, or anything of such devastating magnitude.”

  “My daughter is a good attorney,” he stated in an almost childlike fashion.

  Mark’s eyes grew wide and he sighed. His next words were spoken a bit more gently, but still with enough firmness to make an impact. “Lindsey’s ability as an attorney is not in question by anyone but her. Think about this clearly, Edward.” He hated what came next but it had to be said. “What if you don’t pull out of this? Do you really want to leave Lindsey with a load of problems?”

  His eyes looked wild for a moment, even panicked, before he inhaled and exhaled several times. Then, through clenched teeth, he said, “I will make it through this.” No mention of Lindsey.

  It was clear he wasn’t dealing with someone who had a grip on reality. Despite his differences with Edward, seeing his old friend in such a poor state was hard to swallow. There had been a time when they had been close. Lindsey needed his help, and he intended to give it to her. However, he had to go about making that happen. “Look Edward, I offered to buy your stock from you, but you refused. Now you are so deep in shit, you can’t wade out. Your options are few and far between.” Mark paused to see if he would get a reaction. When he didn’t, he continued, “You will go bankrupt without me. Be logical about this.”

  “This is none of your damn business,” Edward ground out through clenched teeth.

  Mark’s frustration was building. “Lindsey can’t stay with Paxton if it shuts down. The only chance you have of keeping Lindsey on board is to save the business. Lindsey has handed over the reins to me, along with full control.”

  Edward’s eyes went wide, anger flashing in his face. He held up his fist, and shouted. “And I am taking the control away from you.”

  Mark kept his voice steady. “If you interfere, you will lose any chance of getting your daughter to move back to Manhattan. She’ll close the shop and go back to Washington.”

  Edward glowered at Mark, his eyes darkening. “I suppose you want the stock too? You bastard, you think you can just take over my company and my daughter?”

  Mark’s stiffened, but he kept his expression blank. As much as he hated playing hard ball with a sick man, he had no option left. The man was too damn stubborn for his own good. “I know I can, and so do you. What options do you have? Lindsey and I have worked out an arrangement that guarantees her presence here for an extended period of time. If nothing else, that should make you happy.”

  Edward pointed a long, thin finger at him. “You’ll run her off, is what you’ll do. You’ll make her hate the world of law. She wants it to matter. It’s just money to you. Leave her alone.”

  Mark was silent a long moment. If the man only knew how much he wanted Lindsey to stay, how truly on the same page they were for once. “Your strategy of working for free certainly hasn’t worked, now, has it?”

  Mark let his words linger in the air, watching Edward for a reaction. For the first time since he had known Edward Paxton, the man seemed unable to find words.

  “Now,” Mark said. “I need a commitment that you are going to back off.” When Edward started to speak, Mark held up a staying hand. “Otherwise I am going to recommend Lindsey file for company bankruptcy.”

  Edward’s face reddened. “Damn you, Mark Reeves.”

  Mark’s voice was low, no pleasure in his victory. “We have a deal, I take it?”

  “What choice do I have?” His voice was weak with resignation.

  “You don’t, but what you do have is a chance to keep your daughter in Manhattan. Your way was a worthless effort. One day I hope you’ll see the truth. Lindsey needs your acceptance for who she is, not who you want her to be. I can only hope you get smart before it’s too late to make amends with her.”

  When silence filled the air for a long moment, it was obvious to Mark that Edward wasn’t going to respond. “I’ll leave you with your thoughts. Good day, Edward.”

  *

  The phone on her desk started ringing the minute she stepped into her father’s office.

  She had hoped for a few minutes’ peace to get her thoughts together. Apparently that was too much to ask for. She began scurrying across the office when she heard Maggie over the intercom. “Lindsey?”

  She forced the irritation out of her voice. It wasn’t Maggie’s fault that she couldn’t get any peace and quiet. “Yes, Maggie?”

  Maggie cleared her throat nervously. Not good, Lindsey thought. “Greg’s on the line.”

  Caught between a choice of avoidance and head-on collision, she pondered her options with no easy answer. Damn it, she didn’t feel like dealing with Greg, but she knew she wouldn’t later either.

  “Ah, Lindsey?” Maggie questioned, letting Lindsey know time was up.

  Grimacing, Lindsey gave in. Better to get it over with. “Put him through,” she said, sitting down, as she deposited her things on the desk.

  “Good luck, honey.”

  “Yeah, I need it,” she mumbled under her breath. Lindsey took several deep breaths and then picked up the phone line. “This is Lindsey.”

  His voice made her flinch. “Hey, beautiful. How are you?”

  Lindsey rolled her eyes. Spare me the sweet talk, please. Her response was clipped but polite. “Thanks for the flowers.”

  “Just like old times, right?” he said in a soft voice full of intentions that didn’t match Lindsey’s.

  No way was she letting him go down this path. “No Greg, it is not like old times, and it can’t ever be like old times again.”

  He ignored her in favor of his own agenda. That part was indeed just like old times. “Go to dinner with me, tonight.”

  It wasn’t a question, which set her nerves even further on edge, if that was even possible. What part of “over” did the man not understand? “I can’t, Greg. I have a lot of work to do.”

  “That’s an excuse, and we both know it,” he said. “Go to dinner with me and you can find out what I know about the Williams case.”

  Typical Greg tactic. Dangle something she needed as bait. Silently she cursed him. Lindsey bit her bottom lip, thinking hard. It was tempting to milk
him for information. He owed her at least that for the hell of their past. Still, could she put up with Greg for an entire dinner? After only a moment of contemplation, she decided she couldn’t. “Greg, I really can’t.”

  He paused as if considering his next attack method. Greg was, if nothing else, a practiced overachiever. The word “no” was not in his vocabulary. “Okay then, coffee. We’ll go to your favorite little spot.” His voice dropped. “I haven’t forgotten any of your little pleasures.”

  Every muscle in her body tensed. The very thought of him understanding anything about her, let alone her pleasures, was a joke. Yet logic told her she could get a lot more scoop about Williams if Greg was playing to win her back. She hated being a user, but turnabout was fair play; and she’d been a token in his game for years. “Well,” she said slowly. “I guess we could do coffee.”

  She could picture his cocky grin as he responded. “Good. How about seven?”

  “Fine, seven.”

  “I’ll pick you up at your office.” He didn’t give her a choice, which was so Greg. “See you then, Lindsey.” And he hung up.

  No! Not the office. What would Mark think? Lindsey looked at the phone, realizing her grip was like a vise. He couldn’t come to the office. Her fingers punched the telephone buttons, dialing his number, which was embedded in her brain like every other bad memory he represented. Seconds later, she was informed that he wasn’t in his office. Slamming down the phone, she sat unmoving, mulling over her predicament.

  Why in the world did she say yes to anything with Greg? He would just cause her trouble.

  After a few minutes of beating herself up, she resolved to make the best of her situation. Lindsey swung around in her chair and grabbed the Williams file off her credenza. If the man was going to screw up her life, she might as well do a good job of milking him. It was time to roll up her sleeves and study and make a complete list of questions.

  Reviewing files and calling witnesses took up the rest of her afternoon. A call to the NYU Dean’s Office proved difficult at best. Convincing them to share any student information was like pulling teeth. It took threatening the school’s reputation to get any semblance of information. A few other phone calls proved completely fruitless. If Williams was innocent, there was a link to those girls somewhere else. And she knew there had to be.