If She Ran (Martina Monroe Book 2)

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If She Ran (Martina Monroe Book 2) Page 1

by H K Christie




  If She Ran

  Martina Monroe Book #2

  H.K. Christie

  Contents

  1. Layla

  2. Martina

  3. Martina

  4. Detective Hirsch

  5. Martina

  6. Martina

  7. Martina

  8. Martina

  9. Detective Hirsch

  10. Layla

  11. Detective Hirsch

  12. Martina

  13. Martina

  14. Martina

  15. Layla

  16. Detective Hirsch

  17. Detective Hirsch

  18. Martina

  19. Detective Hirsch

  20. Martina

  21. Martina

  22. Martina

  23. Detective Hirsch

  24. Layla

  25. Martina

  26. Detective Hirsch

  27. Martina

  28. Martina

  29. Detective Hirsch

  30. Layla

  31. Detective Hirsch

  32. Martina

  33. Martina

  34. Detective Hirsch

  35. Martina

  36. Layla

  37. Detective Hirsch

  38. Martina

  39. Layla

  40. Detective Hirsch

  41. Detective Hirsch

  42. Detective Hirsch

  43. Martina

  44. Layla

  45. Martina

  46. Martina

  47. Detective Hirsch

  48. Martina

  49. Martina

  Martina Monroe Book 3

  Thank you!

  Join H.K. Christie’s Reader Club

  Also by H.K. Christie

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by H.K. Christie

  Cover design by Odile Stamanne

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  If you would like to use material from this book, prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at:

  www.authorhkchristie.com

  First edition: September 2021

  1

  Layla

  I puckered my lips and arched my back as I stared straight ahead at the crimson-colored barn, trying not to look nervous. He called out, "Now look over at me."

  I shifted my position and placed my hand on my hip before gazing back at the camera.

  "Beautiful. Perfect. You're doing great."

  My insides tingled with excitement. It was everything I'd ever wanted, and it was all happening now. All the haters would eat their words if they could see me. He lowered his camera and flashed a toothy grin. "Well done. You're a natural. You'll be a star by the time you hit the legal drinking age."

  My cheeks burned. "Thank you. Is that all? Are we done?"

  He approached, and I admired his muscular physique. He had bulging biceps and shoulder-length, wavy, brown hair. He was hot. "Yep, that's a wrap. Like I mentioned to you before, a space has opened up in my show. I think you're perfect for it. What do you say?"

  "I say, yes! Thank you so much for this opportunity. I don't know how I could ever repay you."

  He waved his hand. "Nonsense. It's me who should thank you. It's been a delight to work with you, and I look forward to continuing our relationship." He studied me from head to toe before licking his lips.

  My gut churned, but I dismissed the feeling. So what if he was a little creepy? Weren't all photographers? The way they hid behind their giant lenses and watched you as if they were hunting prey. I was sure it was nothing. This was just how this business worked. I wanted to avoid the casting couch if possible, but he was attractive, and if that was what it would take, it was what it would take. It couldn't be worse than the alternative—going home and living out my days as a server at the restaurant.

  He handed me my duffel bag. "There is a dressing room behind the barn, next to the main house, if you need to freshen up or use the restroom. It's yellow with white trim. You can't miss it. After you're done, I'll drive you home. I can't have my rising star taking public transportation."

  A gentleman. See, nothing to worry about.

  "Great, thank you so much. I'll be right back. I promise." I jogged toward the barn and beyond until I saw the main house on the left. It was one story and white with gray trim. I spotted the little yellow house and grinned. A dressing room. I had a dressing room. I wanted to squeal with delight but opted to play it cool.

  Heart racing, I approached the structure and then stepped back as a foul odor wafted across my face. Maybe it needed to be cleaned? Covering my nose and mouth with my hand, I crept closer and peered through the window, but I couldn't see inside because of heavy curtains blocking my view. I glanced behind me and confirmed nobody was around. Turning the doorknob with my free hand, I pushed open the door and stepped in. The stench intensified, and my breath seized at the sight before me. What the heck? Were they mannequins? My eyes widened, and I rushed out of the small studio. Hunched over, I vomited on the grass.

  Not mannequins.

  I broke into a sprint and ran behind the house and out onto the main road as I processed the scene in the yellow house. Decomposing women were strung up like marionettes and posed. Was that the show? I continued running until my foot caught on a divot in the road, and I tumbled to the ground. Out of breath and shaking, I scrambled back up and continued as I considered the last few moments of my life.

  Why had he sent me back there? Did he want me to know he was going to kill me? I should've known this was too good to be true. Good things didn't happen to girls like me. That had been my experience until this point, anyhow.

  I jogged as tears escaped my eyes. Soon I slowed down. My legs were wobbly, and my mind was swimming. I had skipped breakfast and dinner the night before and wasn't sure how long I could keep up the pace, but I had to get away from him. Maybe I could hide until I could catch my breath. I increased my speed as I searched for any potential places to hide. My heart thudded when I heard the roar of his SUV speeding down the gravel road. He slowed the car a few feet from me. "Layla, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

  I ignored him and continued on. The SUV stopped, and I heard boots crunch down on the road. "Layla. Layla..." he sang out. His footsteps were heavy as he ran toward me. His hands grabbed my waist and pulled me down to the ground. "Layla, why are you running? I thought you wanted to be in my show?"

  I screamed, and his meaty hand covered my mouth. I wriggled to free myself from his grasp, but it was no use. A sharp pain shot through my neck before the lights went out.

  2

  Martina

  Zoey held a wooden spoon up to her mouth as she danced around the kitchen with my mother, singing Shania Twain's "That Don't Impress Me Much." I hadn't seen Zoey this happy in the two years since Jared died. She loved having my mother living with us, helping her with her homework, and being there every day after school to ask her about her day and to create art projects with her. I thought Claire was the perfect nanny, but it turned out my mom was quite good at it as well. I never thought I'd see the scene playing out before me.

  Although both were aware of my presence, neither of the women stop
ped their concert on my account. Nor should they. Singing and dancing on a Monday morning was normal, right? When the song ended, I clapped heartily for the duet and said, "Well, that impresses me very much."

  That elicited a cackle of laughter from Zoey and a grin from my mother. "All right, well, I'm off for my first day at work since my vacation. Wish me luck."

  Zoey ran over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and smiling up at me. "Good luck, Mommy. I know you're going to be fantastic."

  "Thank you, Zoey. I appreciate that."

  My mother waved. "I'll see you for dinner tonight. I found a new recipe for shrimp risotto. How does that sound?"

  I had never eaten better since my mother had moved in with us a month ago. She was becoming quite the home chef. "Sounds great. I wouldn't miss it."

  I stepped out of the house to the sun shining and only a hint of chill left in the spring air. I hopped in my car, feeling grateful for all my blessings. For my daughter, my mother, my job, my sponsor, and for being able to live in such a beautiful place. For no headaches or bruised ribs. I was strong and operating at a hundred percent.

  The two weeks off from work had been necessary and rejuvenating. During Zoey's spring break, Mom, Zoey, and I took a road trip down to Disneyland. I think I ate more churros in those five days than I'd ever eaten in my entire life. Zoey had wanted to ride every ride she was tall enough to enjoy, and my mom was happy to go on every single one of them with her, as was I.

  There was nothing like the three of us squeezed together on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride to feel like a kid again. Mom had a calming and loving effect on our household. It was so strange and something I would've never predicted in all my years. She hadn't been like that when I was growing up, but I guessed people really are capable of change when they put their mind to it.

  Her cooking was definitely improving with each episode of Rachel Ray's cooking show. She was proud of herself too. She'd even insisted we have my sponsor, Rocco, over for dinner. Mom was not only interested in showing off her culinary skills but also hearing more about being an AA sponsor since she, too, was in the program and was planning to be a sponsor herself since she'd reached one year of sobriety a few months back.

  I was still a month away from that milestone, but I knew I'd make it. I had my support team and accepted life would never be what it had been before Jared died. It had been two years, and I was still finding my new normal, but I was getting there, slowly but surely. With my big one-year sober milestone on the horizon, both Mom and Zoey wanted to attend the meeting and have cake afterward. I'd tried to brush it off, saying it wasn't a big deal, and that I didn't need any fanfare. It was Rocco who had convinced me otherwise. I think his words had been, "Come on, Martina. You may be superwoman ninety-five percent of the time, but it's still important to celebrate your victories, and choosing to be sober was one of the most challenging things you've done in your life. So, dammit, have some cake."

  I couldn't argue with Rocco or Zoey or Mom, and I was feeling outnumbered by all the optimists in my life. Who knew, maybe they were even rubbing off on me?

  I reached Drakos Security & Investigations, opting to park in the garage before heading up to the office. After taking the elevator up, I strutted through the doors with my head held high, feeling just a little taller than I had the last time I'd entered the office. I was definitely ready to get back to work. "Well, good morning, Martina."

  "Good morning, Mrs. Pearson. How are you?"

  "Oh, I'm doing fantastic and you are looking well, if you don't mind me saying. How was your vacation? Did Zoey love Disneyland?"

  I grinned. "It was wonderful, and Zoey absolutely loved Disneyland. She hasn't stopped talking about it since we returned."

  "That's wonderful. You have a great day."

  "You, too, Mrs. Pearson." It was nice to be back in the office. Constants like Mrs. Pearson with her magenta lipstick and the gray cubicle walls were comforting. It was good to know some things never changed. I strolled back to my cubicle and set down my things before powering up my computer.

  I'd only be in the office for an hour to meet with Stavros. Our relationship had been tense since our big blowout after he ordered me to stop investigating a case I was working on. I had threatened to leave the firm and strike out on my own if he continued to treat me like a child. Only then did Stavros allow me to continue investigating. Both of us could use some space. Luckily, the CoCo County Sheriff's Department had offered me a contract to investigate cold cases alongside Detective August Hirsch. It helped that between the two of us, we'd solved two homicides, one of which was a cold case—the disappearance of my best friend. It didn't have a happy ending, but it had a definitive ending, allowing the family and loved ones to grieve and to find their own new normal. The press coverage landed the department funding for my contract. Stavros had agreed to the assignment without hesitation.

  I read through my emails and glanced up at the corner to see the time: 9:00 AM. It was time to meet with Stavros. I casually walked over to his office and knocked on the door. He tipped his chin and waved me in. I shut the door behind me and sat in the chair directly in front of Stavros. "Good morning, Stavros."

  "Good morning, Martina. How are you feeling?"

  "Recharged."

  "That's good to hear."

  I had called the meeting, and therefore it was my agenda to lead. "I know we spoke before I went out on my vacation, but I wanted the opportunity for us to clear the air. Things have been unsettled between us, and I just wanted you to know that I respect you and your opinions. Not to mention, I'll be forever grateful for the opportunities and second chances you've given me."

  "I appreciate that, Martina. You have been an asset to this organization. It's been mostly a pleasure to work with you."

  Mostly. Yikes. I suppose I deserved that. "Thank you. That's kind. I also need to level set with you. I need you to treat me like any other investigator—male or female. We have a dangerous job, and that is the what I signed up for. I can more than take care of myself and those around me. If you don't agree, I can't continue working with you. I don't want to leave this firm, but I will if I have to." It felt good to get that out. Last time I had tried to communicate that message, I was so angry I think it came out jumbled and nonsensical.

  Stavros nodded. "I understand. But you have to understand where I'm coming from. This is my firm and my reputation. Having an alcoholic on staff is something I need to be worried about. If you're drunk on the job, it could get you or someone else killed. It's not personal."

  Not personal? My blood was boiling, but I forced ice into my veins. I needed to be level-headed. Calm and in control. "I'm a recovering alcoholic, and I haven't slipped up once since I've been back, and you know that. If you don't think you can let my one mistake go, maybe it's best I go out on my own." One mistake was probably underselling it, but surely he got the idea.

  Stavros huffed. "Look, let's not make any hasty decisions. Starting today, you'll be working cold cases with the sheriff's department. It will give you the autonomy that you're looking for. I wish you all the best, and I hope that works out for as long as you want it to. We don't want to lose you, Martina. And"—he hesitated—"I admit, I may have been acting overprotectively, which is unprofessional. I still think of you as Jared's wife, someone I need to look out for, since he's gone. But hearing you now, I know if he was here and knew how I'd behaved, he probably would’ve given me a swift kick in the rear and then tell me to stop telling his wife what to do because you're more than capable. He was your biggest fan. You know that, right?"

  Was he trying to make me lose my composure? I ignored the tingling in my nostrils. I would not cry.

  He continued, "I have the utmost respect for you, Martina, and I know that you're trying hard and doing your best. But I know, there's always the chance you'll slip up. Addiction is a terrible burden. I promise I'll do my best to give you the benefit of the doubt and treat you like everyone else. I know that if anyone can kick a nasty h
abit, it's you. You're the toughest lady I've ever known. But I'll be watching."

  "Understood and I appreciate that." My body relaxed a smidgen. I believed him that he would try, but I also knew he'd be watching. And that was fine. I wasn't sober for him; I was sober for me, my daughter, and my clients. I had a lot to fight for, and I was a fighter.

  "You heading over to the sheriff's department now?"

  "Yep, Hirsch says he's got a space set up for me."

  "We'll miss you around here. Would you be agreeable to a biweekly face-to-face for us to touch base and, I don't know, to warn us when your picture will be all over the news for being a star investigator solving cold cases for the sheriff's department?" he said with a smile.

  "Of course. I'm still part of the Drakos Security & Investigations family. I won't forget that."

  "Great. I know you'll do wonderful things and bring closure to a lot of families. We're proud of you, Martina."

  "Thank you." I exited Stavros's office, feeling a little lighter. I was ready to start this new chapter in my career, partnering with the sheriff's department to bring home the missing and to bring justice for victims that have been waiting for far too long.

 

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