Black and Blue (Chubby Chasers, Inc. Series Book 3)

by Angie M. Brashears

A spirit from beyond warning of impending doom?

  But…there’s nothing there. No corpse Morse coding from the great beyond.

  My heart doesn’t buy it and continues to beat house music in my chest, which reverberates to the pulse at my temple.

  My head feels like it’s going to fly away. I’m a little too lightheaded.

  I’m about to go all girly and faint!

  Here it comes, I think. C’mon faint!

  Anything not to have to stand out here and think about all of this for another second. Going to faint, any second now.

  Bring it, I think, feeling myself wavering in the bubble-gum pumps.

  I close my eyes and she’s there. Blue. She turns to me and she’s pissed.

  You didn’t even question him. Just let him get away with…

  At the last minute, I savage my tongue with my teeth, which jolts my system. The odd floating feeling vanishes, but I fear it’s a temporary fix.

  I should’ve eaten breakfast today. It seems I’m in need of a sit-down after that scare. I look toward the air-conditioned garage. Yes, it would be cool in there. Maybe a cold drink, with a floating lemon slice, the glass sweating in anticipation of my first gulp. Along with a lovely fried chicken salad. So refreshing. Then, back on the case.

  Poor Carl must think I put him in isolation for his many offenses. Yep, a cool drink and shade sound A-OK right about now. My feet are moving before I’ve given the command.

  Would you like a foot rub, too? That’s Blue’s snarky voice.

  I shake my head, reluctantly peeling my eyes from the garage. There is no later. If I don’t ask the hard questions of Javi, she never will.

  From the bugs on the windshield to the thin coat of dust on the whole truck, it looks like he might have a little more than a head start.

  I start reeling in my criminal thoughts. Think, Sasha. Put on those detective specs and go through the evidence.

  He left in his Suburban with her. They flew together. Where did he leave his car at?

  The airport, of course. Did he fly with her to Vegas? All signs point to YEP. I won’t believe she’s dead. Nope, just missing. I don’t dare hope that she wised up and ran screaming towards the hills. This is Blue we’re talking about, after all. The biggest Javi cheerleader in the world. Those moony blue eyes staring raptly at him, waiting for some bullshit Javi-ism to spout off. No, my girl would’ve trusted him to the bitter end.

  She was his Bonita, after all.

  “Ugh, stop thinking of her in the past tense, Sash.” She is his Bonita, after all. There, that’s better. But my body doesn’t listen. The hairs on the back of my neck will not stand down. Something’s wrong. I know it.

  Without warning, I whirl around, trench coat billowing around me, expecting to find Javi with a butcher knife raised over his head, screaming like a banshee as he launches himself at me. The kick drum bangs my heart.

  I jump in my haste to turn, but no one’s there.

  Gretchen

  I glimpse a very distraught Sasha through the open front door. I take a calming breath and turn to him with a weak smile. Think of sunshine, Twinkies, flan, I urge myself, and my smile turns into a welcoming grin.

  “Javi,” I croon and walk into his embrace, which feels like he might shove a plastic bag over my head. I’m leery, on guard.

  “Gretchen, help.” He starts to cry against my shoulder. I take that opportunity to look at my redheaded friend playing CSI outside. I pat his back and move him away from the door and any windows.

  If he saw this, oh my God, what the fuck is she doing? She’s going to get him all riled up, and as it is, he’s not as trusting as he once was. Only believes about half of the stuff I tell him now.

  “Sasha pissed me off.” Inwardly, I cringe. If Sasha stays, I’ll never sleep again in this house. He could do a lot of damage in eight hours. First Tony and now Javi. It’s a sign.

  It’s a gash through my heart, but it has to be done. She’ll never understand, never take my side again. Especially against Blue.

  Sasha knows about Javi’s paper doll “fetish” but she thinks that’s all it is. Nothing more. I don’t take her on any of the doll hunts. She doesn’t know about the nondisclosure agreements, the piles of hush money. And once Blue tells her about the contract, well, goodbye Sasha. It’s better she leaves now, with nothing to use against me. Than later, pissed as a wet hen, once I’ve lied to her.

  No, it’s time.

  “Javi, where’s Blue?” I whisper.

  He lifts his head and looks at me like a lost doe.

  “Gretchen…I can’t. I just locked her up. Don’t make me open that door again!” He looks out at Sasha going over the vehicle with a fine-tooth comb. Without looking my way, he gives me a quiet heads-up, but not about Blue. No, this one’s meant for a nosy redhead.

  “Do we have any rat poison?”

  Then he strides away, banging the sliding glass door shut on the way out.

  Fuck.

  Sasha

  There it is again! Movement behind one of the kitchen curtains. There and gone. Is someone watching me? Gretchen? Him? Which pair of eyes is the two-headed monster looking at me with?

  I stare, willing a dark or blonde head to come into view. I need to know who exactly it is I’m up against…but no one surfaces. Dammit! After what feels like ages, my Spidey senses relax.

  It was the wind. Right.

  No one’s watching me. Double right.

  This is ridiculous. Sasha, get a grip. I’m on my own front lawn, looking at one of my Chubby Chaser vehicles. Crime scene blares through my brain. I have every right to be here. I pay a third of the bills, I’m entitled to at the very least, a third of the answers.

  I look through the car windows a second time, not wanting to miss any sign of Blue. Anything. If she drove in this car, she might have left something behind, a bread crumb, a clue, anything. So I can find her.

  Why don’t you just storm in there and ask him? What the fuck did you do with my best friend, Javier?

  My inner Wonder Woman puffs up, gold wristlets crossed in front and ready for action. Maybe drag him behind the invisible plane with my lasso of truth till he coughs up some information.

  My stomach squirms at the thought of confrontation. The acid bath leaves me with a punched-in-the-stomach feeling. I turn back to the empty windows, but only sun is reflected back at me.

  Because I’d like to walk out of here in one piece.

  The realization makes me shudder.

  I’m afraid of Javi.

  Have been since the moment I saw his mom in her basement dwelling. This realization does the opposite of placating me. In fact, I feel like a fire’s been lit under my ass. “Come on, crumb cake. This is no time to fall apart.”

  I stand a little straighter and really look at the car.

  On first glance, it looks empty. Impersonal. A loaner, devoid of any personality. My new inner Wonder Woman flings the door wide without even a cringe as it creaks on its hinges.

  Fuck it, nose, you haven’t failed me yet. I stick my head in and take a whiff. First of all, it smells like fast food. And Javi’s Eu de Hormones. I sniff deeply, trying to taste it. But no, no sign of Blue’s raspberry-vanilla body wash in the air.

  I rip open the ashtray—empty, unless a handful of change holds the key. I hit both visors, knocking them down. There’s a generic map, a rental info sticker, Avis. But not much else. The middle of the console is devoid of any personals. No CDs, no packs of gum, no cellphones or chargers, nothing.

  Except… I reach down the side of the console, feeling along the curve of each bucket seat. Nothing, not even a condom wrapper.

  Jeez, this car’s clean.

  Without even closing the driver door, I move to the back seat, flinging that door wide, too. Fuck him, I hope his battery dies.

  There’s not even a discarded jacket back here. Not one stick of luggage, either. Hmmm. Not only did he misplace his bride, but he lost the damn luggage as well.

  V
isions of Javi chucking blue suitcases over the side of a bridge into dark swirling waters dance behind my lids. It seems so real. My search is halted.

  I close my eyes, suck in stacked breaths of air, and think of my powdered donut-eating friend. Those doe eyes that begged to be taught. So open and willing to become a part of this life. When I open them, I stare down at the vacuum lines repeated on the dark backseat. Each line is uncut and runs the length of the seat. No asses have been there.

  I suck in a breath that sounds like a sob, and it comes to me.

  That’s Mickey D’s!

  I jog around the back of the car like a fat kid chasing the ice-cream truck, determined to find the source of the smell.

  I open the passenger door and am rewarded with my first official clue. So hidden, I’d missed it on the first pass. Just the tiniest corner of a white bag with a yellow M, sticking out from under the passenger seat.

  “M for murder, you bastard,” hisses out of me as I bend over and snag the bag, pulling it from its hiding place.

  My heart bleeds under squeezing pressure. It’s so like Blue’s car with the fast-food wrappers tucked under the front seat.

  I take it—it feels substantial, not just trash—and look inside.

  My heart kicks up a notch as I pull out one empty wrapper for an Egg McMuffin, or an Egg McLovin McMuffin, as Blue so lovingly calls them.

  I sniff it. Smells fresh. If Blue was with him, there’d be at least two. She loves McDonalds. I shake the bag. There’s something broken in there.

  I stick my hand in and grab slivers of something. White plastic, smashed to bits. McDonalds spoons maybe?

  I mean, it’s really pummeled, so it’s hard to tell.

  I snatch a quick glance over my shoulder—the coast is clear—before pulling the wad of napkins out and peeling open a corner of the wadded up ball of trash.

  My heart forgets how to beat.

  Blue’s signature magnolia, streaked in blood and dirt. I clench it in my fist, squeezing it tight to my chest. Her most treasured possession, a welcome gift from Hari, something she’d never leave behind.

  I remember the night Hari gave it to her. “When you want Bluebelle to come out, put this on and feel like a princess.” Hari had made a big production of crowning her with the powder-blue magnolia headband. “I christen thee Bluebelle.” That’s where I got my line from. I was under pressure.

  Blue’s most prized possession, bunched up and discarded like a wad of flavorless chewing gum. I see her shining blue eyes, dancing with mirth, her pink cheeks, this same headband on her head.

  Now crumpled and broken, wrapped with blatant hostility in dirty McDonalds napkins, discarded in the trash bag.

  I flick a glob of melted cheese off as I lament. Oh, Bluebelle, where are you?

  “Why are you out here sniffing Javi’s trash?” The authority in her voice is not lost on me.

  Shit! Gretchen! I jump and shove the hair accessory deep into my pocket, squirreling away a little piece of Blue, before turning with what I hope isn’t a grimace pasted on my face.

  “I was hungry. Thought he brought Mickey D’s for everyone.” I hand her the empty bag and lean in, before savagely whispering, “He’s done something with her. I know it, Gretch! We’ve got to find her!”

  She stands, arms crossed, and spits out, “Are you finished, policewoman?” It’s like she slapped me across the face. I back it up a step, shocked, and push my fist with the flower deeper into my overcoat pocket. She’d probably burn the evidence for that criminal!

  I’m shocked at the venom in her voice. Wow, what a difference two days makes.

  Hmm, no wonder she made no small talk when I got home. It didn’t have anything to do with me being out with Riley, it seems.

  It was all about…

  I thrust a finger in her face. “You weren’t concerned about Blue for one second. This whole time, the drama, the act, all because your precious Javi was gone and off the radar!”

  She looks away as she stabs me right in my feelings. “If you spent as much time running this place as you do on idle chatter, we’d make millions.”

  I raise my eyebrows to full salute. “I’m here all the time, Miss Thing. This is my first vacation in ever and now I’m shiftless?”

  Incredible, the absolute balls she has! Well I got a furry pair, too.

  “How easy you forget about the time you left with Tony, for a month! I thought you were never coming back! But I held the place down—with barely any experience, mind you—praying for your speedy return.”

  My arm flaps at my sides. “Beside the point. Where the fuck is Blue?”

  When she won’t even look at me, won’t even pretend like she cares about anything, I sashay past, done with her.

  “Fine, I’ll go ask the Lord of the Manor myself.”

  She puts an arm out, either to clothesline me or stop me, my choice.

  I choose to stop, a questioning look thrown at her. And all I see are her eyes. Glaring back at me, throwing poison darts my way, harder today than I’ve ever seen them. At least when directed at me.

  I hear the warning in her voice. “He’s had a rough couple of days. Apparently, your friend left my friend at the altar. Let’s give him a break, shall we?”

  I catch the slur, your friend. When did Blue become just my friend? When did this situation change? So I ask her. “When did Blue become just my friend, Gretch? I thought she was more than that—our sister? Or did something change and I didn’t get the memo?” My own hard eyes peer back at her. I’ve learned a trick or three while living in the chubby house.

  Surprise flashes across her face. Seems Sasha’s grown a backbone and won’t be dicked around with anymore. I was brought in, after all, to always be the nay vote in her war against Javi. A guaranteed seconder of all her crazy motions.

  I shake my head at her and make a face—two can play at this game—but my only reward is a calculating look. This bitch is sizing me up! A school-marm-who-found-one-of-her-charges-smoking-pot kinda look. Oh, no. I’ll snatch that blonde head right off of her bobble neck. In fact, she looks super pissed…at me!

  “Sasha, let’s not play Nancy Drew today. It’s gonna take all my strength to figure out how to fix this, and I don’t even wanna think of how many crying sessions I’ll have to sit through just to get some fucking answers from the high poohbah. I don’t need you adding to that burden.” She turns, leaving me standing in the driveway wondering when I became just another problem for her to deal with. That pisses me right the hell off.

  “Nancy Drew’s got nothing on this bitch!” I shout it at her stiff back as she walks away.

  It’s obvious by the slow way she turns that I’m not being the best representative of the Chubby House, yelling and carrying on in the front fucking yard.

  The stubborn set of her body makes me cringe. I’m in trouble. “He just needs some time. We all do.” I see in her eyes that she doesn’t believe this lie. She’s protecting him as usual. “Where do your loyalties lie, Sasha? Here, at this house? Or with some girl we barely know?”

  The wind’s sucked out of me. “Barely know? Are you kidding me right now?”

  I can see her rationalizing Javi’s behavior like she did so many years ago to me when I first found out about his mother in the basement, and it makes me sick. Sick to death that I let this go on for so long. But I’m not as young or as desperate as I was back then.

  Besides, Blue’s a true friend. I don’t have to question her motives, ever. “Are you seriously gonna go hide in the house without another thought for our friend Blue? Is that what you’re going to do?”

  Hurt flares in her eyes. I don’t care if she cries; I’m gonna give it to her. “’Cause if that’s where your loyalties lie…” I stab the air towards the house and then point at her accusingly. “Then I don’t belong here. This bitch right here.” I point two thumbs at my frosting-covered chest. “Is Team fucking Blue.”

  She doesn’t cry, not even a tear. The look of disdain on her
face, well that’s it! I turn and look at the disheveled Suburban and kick a door shut.

  I whirl around, full of vinegar and No Bitches! Ready to slay her with both sides of my tongue, but... She walked out on me?

  I can feel the digital clock winding down on the time bomb that is my mouth. In about 3-2-1, I’m gonna front-kick the shit out of that door and start chewing asses. I’ve got a matter of seconds before I explode.

  I know me. Precisely why I end up dressed in my latest Favor attire with a hastily thrown-on trench coat—instead of following her into the garage for a coffee and a quick brain wash—on my front lawn, wondering just what in the fuck to do next.

  I can’t go in there. Just looking at the place gives me the willies. It’s the first time I’ve been creeped out by my roommates. The first time I feel like this isn’t the place for me. Not anymore. Bad shit happens here. Blue is proof of that.

  I can’t even steel myself long enough to go in and get Sam, her cat. But there’s no way in fucking blue hell I’m leaving him here with these animals.

  I stab a text out and hope Shriektchen gets this message before she deletes me from her friend list.

  While I wait, I check my pockets. Yes! The jangle of the Mustang keys, my phone, a wad of cash, I’m good.

  I hear the garage door open, and I turn to head in, ready to face her. I want some shit explained, and Gretchen is just the one to give me answers. I stomp into the garage.

  “So I’m the asshole now? The Burden?” I yell, ready to do battle.

  But the only one listening is Sam, pissed about the Kitty carrier.

  “He looks…like he knows something’s going down,” I whisper, now worried about the shadowed spot in front of the vehicles. A perfect place to hide, crouching before jumping, hidden-dragon style, and…and forking me to death!

  I toss Sam’s carrier onto the passenger seat, no time to be gentle, and he mewls a big F U at me for my rough treatment. “Guess you’re getting kicked out, too,” I say, looking everywhere at once as I get in the car and hastily lock the doors, which takes too long. The finish line is so close. My hands shake as my eyes attempt to look every which way at once, sure that one or both of those goblins are gonna pop out.