Martinis After Dark (Bernadette's Book 1)

by Gina Drayer

  But that wasn't the sound she’d come to investigate. She glanced around. The window and mirror in that bathroom were all intact. The sound of breaking glass had come from somewhere else, and if it was related to the bar, there was only one other place it could have come from. She needed an answer, or it would bother her all night.

  She followed the hallway through the kitchen to the storeroom and office. The storeroom was the only room left on the main floor with a window.

  It’s nothing, she told herself. Someone broke a window and ran away. That was all it was.

  Once she confirmed there was no broken window, she could stop worrying. And if there was … Well, windows got broken all the time. It would likely be some kid that had done the deed. He’d thrown a rock through a window, maybe on a dare, and then ran away, soaring high on the adrenaline rush.

  She remembered seeing some plywood tucked against the back wall of the office. It was an odd small sheet. Dylon had told her it was there from the last time the back window had been broken. So once she found the window, it wouldn’t be a big deal to fit a piece of the plywood over the opening and nail it place. She’d patch it and leave Dylon a note in the office. Simple as that.

  She reached the back room where the inventory was kept. Cartons of whiskey, gin, and beer sat stacked in neat rows, waiting to be taken into the bar. Tucked in the back was the fire exit with the broken alarm.

  And there it was. The small window next to the door was broken in. Someone had smashed it from outside, sending the shards of window glass scattering across the concrete floor. The shards caught her flashlight beam, bouncing dots of light around the room.

  She scanned the floor for the rock. There should be one that the kid had thrown through the window on the floor. She couldn’t find it, and as she looked, the hackles on her neck started to rise. It wasn't there. There wasn’t a rock.

  Why was finding the rock so important? Why did not seeing one make her heart race?

  Probably because she'd sold herself on that scenario and now the pieces wouldn’t fit together properly. The broken window story involved a kid throwing a rock. If she found a rock, the rest of her story made sense. But there was no rock—none she could find, and that meant something else broke the window.

  The window was small. A person couldn’t fit through. It was next to the door but wasn’t really close enough to reach inside and open. It had to be an accident.

  She opened the steel door, pressing her hip against the metal bar that crossed it at waist height. The door heavy, but easy enough to open. If someone was determined enough … Maybe.

  Lee peeked outside. The light was bright, blindingly so after the dim interior of the bar. The delivery van she’d seen from upstairs sat a few feet away from the door, but no one was loitering in the alley. No other doors were open. She heard no voices, just traffic from the streets that flanked the building.

  She let the heavy door close and listened for the satisfying click of it locking again.

  Her eyes had adjusted to the bright light, and now she couldn’t see inside, even when she shone the flashlight. Blinking a few times, trying to get her vision to readjust. After a second, she turned back toward the office. Out of nowhere, arms wrapped around her from behind.

  The air gushed out of her lungs, and she desperately sucked in a breath to scream. Before she had the chance, a gloved hand clamped down over her lips.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Hello Lee,” an all-too-familiar voice whispered in her ear. “That’s not a particularly nice greeting. We wouldn’t want some curious passerby to come investigate, now would we? If you promise not to scream, I’ll let you go, love.”

  Christian spoke with an unnatural calmness that added to the wave of fear already coursing through her. Lee shook her head numbly, and he released his grip on her mouth. Once free, she spun around and was shocked by his appearance. The normally stylish man looked disheveled, almost unhinged. The designer suit he always wore was torn and rumpled, and his blond hair stood up in wild spikes. There was dried blood on his swollen lip where it had been busted, and his eye was encircled with a yellowing bruise.

  Overall, it was the look of a desperate man.

  “Christian,” she breathed.

  He made a mock bow. “At your service.”

  “Why are you here?” Lee said, taking a step away from him.

  “Actually, I’m not here at all,” he said with a little chuckle. “At this very moment, I'm hosting a few close friends at my apartment across town. Luckily, I have friends with a lot to lose if I go to jail. Every single one of them will swear I've been there for hours. As a matter of fact, we’ve been partying all weekend, and I never left their sight for more than enough time to go to the bathroom. I certainly never left them for long enough to get all the way to fucking Brooklyn.”

  The fact that he was telling her all this was a bad sign. He wasn’t here for a social visit, and that crazed look in his eyes worried her. She remembered seeing it a few times before. It was the look he got when he was ready to close a deal and was about to screw over some unsuspecting company.

  “You don’t have to do anything, Christian,” Lee said, backing up. She held her hands up and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. “I’m leaving town. I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He laughed. The brittle sound sent a chill down her spine. “But I’m going to fix it. After this, he’ll see. He’ll see I’m not a threat. I have everything figured out.”

  He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly and started to pace in front of the exit. Lee flicked a glance back to the dark and empty hallway. She could make a run for it, but the front of the bar was locked from the outside. There was always the fire escape. If she made it back to her apartment, she could get out through the window. Maybe even slow him down with a locked door. She just needed to keep him occupied while she moved into position.

  “How’d you find me?” she asked, taking a step toward the door.

  “Actually, after all this cat and mouse we’ve played, the truth is anticlimactic. I did it the usual way—I bought the information.”

  “From Janet?”

  He looked surprised. “That bitch has no idea how the world works. She should really pay her secretary more. All it took was a few thousand dollars and the young woman was more than happy to keep me updated on the comings and goings of my old girlfriend."

  Even though it was of little consequence, it was still good to know that Janet hadn’t deliberately compromised her. Lee wasn’t a total failure at judging people’s character. Of course, learning she could trust Janet now didn't make a damn bit of difference. Christian had found her. He had her cornered and he had an alibi in place. As much as she hated the idea that he might kill her, knowing he’d probably get away with that too made it even worse.

  “It’s a shame how executives undervalue the little people in their office. I mean, all it took was a little praise and a spot in my bed to get you to do all my dirty work.” He tsked and shook his head sadly, and took a step closer. “You do realize that’s what’s going to come out at trial, don’t you? I’m going to tell everyone how I gave you a position of trust and how you used that power for your own profit. You may have stolen my records, but you missed the one I kept in the safe. The one with the account in the Cayman Islands opened under your name. You see, I’ve been depositing a sizable percentage in that account for months.”

  He took another step forward into the light, and at his side she saw a crowbar in his hand. He saw her staring at it, and he laughed again.

  “This really is a handy tool, isn't it? I’ve probably had one in every car I’ve ever owned and never thought much about it before. But when I got here, well, it did a nice job on the little window, and it was just long enough to reach through and open the fire door.”

  He held up the crowbar and looked at it. Lee took the opportunity to shift her position away from the corner.

  “T
he window was handy, and that fire door was the perfect way to get in. Poetic almost,” he said, oblivious to her movements. “I thought the alarm would go off. I was ready to run you down and do things fast, but I got lucky.” He tipped his head. “Your new boyfriend really should’ve had that alarm fixed. It’s a safety hazard. But of course, now it won't matter."

  “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to keep him talking. Maybe Dylon would come home, or a cop would come to investigate the illegally parked van. “What exactly do you plan to do?”

  “Are you worried about yourself or your boyfriend?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. “A bartender. Really? You are slumming it, aren’t you?”

  She hadn’t been worried about Dylon until Christian mentioned him. “What does Dylon have to do with this? He doesn't even know you. I doubt he's ever heard of you.”

  “The way I see it, he’s guilty by association.” He caressed the crowbar as he answered. “Isn’t that the logic the cops use when they go after people who hide criminals? They want to set an example. Del Rossi understands actions. It’s to my advantage to make your bartender an object lesson on what happens to people who cross me.”

  “Leave him out of this. He didn’t do anything.”

  “He did more than enough,” he snapped. His lips curled into a sneer, and he gripped the crowbar until his knuckles turned white. “Everyone involved needs to be handled. After this case is old news, that ADA will get hers, too. Some night, she’ll work late and just not make it home. They’ll find her body, but there are a staggering number of people who would have a grudge against her—people with loved ones doing time, or people whose lives she’s ruined. Me, I’ll have no reason to hurt her. After all, my case is going to be dropped. But you, my dear, are a more pressing issue. I need to do something about you right away.”

  “Why?”

  “My friend is turning up the heat. He doesn't feel like I’m handling the situation. He wants me to shut down the trial. Or”—he reached up with his free hand and rubbed his chin—“he’ll make sure I’m not around for it.”

  “This isn’t necessary, Christian,” she said, taking another step to the side. She was so close to the door. Just a few more inches and she could make a break for the stairs. “I told the DA’s office I won’t testify. I was going to leave town in the morning, on the bus. No one will be able to find me.”

  “They’ll find you. You’re sloppy. They’ll find you, and then they will compel you to take the stand. My lawyers say that would be bad for our side. I can’t go to jail and just hope that Del Rossi’s men won’t kill me behind bars. Or I can turn state's evidence and hope that he doesn’t kill me before I get put into witness protection. Either way, I don’t like my odds.”

  “So you are going to kill me?"

  Asking the question wasn’t a stall. She just wanted to make him say it. All this dancing around the subject was driving her crazy. This wasn’t just about ensuring she didn’t talk. This was personal. He’d come himself instead of sending a hired goon. Clearly, he wanted the satisfaction of killing her. It was that knowledge that made her desperate to get out. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “Of course.” He tilted his head. “I thought I was rather clear as to why I came here this pit—to kill you.”

  His voice was so matter-of-fact that it unnerved her even more. She wanted him to scream it. To show some emotion. But he was calm. She glanced down at the crowbar in his hand, and he smiled. Raising it over his head, Christian waved the thing in a sweeping arc as she prepared herself for the blow.

  "I’m not going to kill you with this,” he said. “Smashing your skull open and spilling those too-smart-for-your-own-good brains all over the floor would give me a certain amount of satisfaction, I'll admit, but then you’d be dead. It would be over too fast, and you’d barely feel it. For all the trouble you’ve caused, that wouldn’t do. You need to be punished.”

  “Punished?”

  “I want your death to be painful. And I want you fully aware that your boyfriend will take the fall for killing you.”

  Lee focused on calming her breathing as Christian talked. She’d dragged Dylon into this mess, after all. She couldn’t let anything happen to him. None of this was his fault. She needed to get through her fear and make a run for it.

  She concentrated on taking deep breaths, calming herself as much as possible. Just letting Christian babble on about his plans wasn't an option, either. She needed to know more, and he seemed to be enjoying giving her details. “So what kind of punishment do you have in mind for me?”

  He smiled, obviously pleased she’d asked. “Burning to death, I’m told, is a very agonizing way to die. And so tragic. And, for me, convenient. With a little digging, I discovered your boyfriend seems to have dug himself into a financial hole. The poor guy isn’t much of a businessman, and when he bought the building, it tapped him out completely. He’s one bad month from losing this bar.”

  Christian sighed and shrugged as if empathetic to Dylon’s troubles. Lee had finally reached the doorway. She needed to hear the rest of it so she could protect Dylon from whatever he had planned.

  “So he’s bad with money. Why would the police pin my death on him?”

  “You always see the best in people. You never see the evil that lives inside of all of us, Lee. That’s always been your problem. It’s why it was so easy to manipulate you,” he said. “You see, when a man is pushed to the brink, he resorts to excessive measures. In this case, your bartender has decided to burn down the bar and collect the insurance money. As it turns out, just yesterday the amount the bar was insured for was tripled. The insurance company got an email and payment—a year in advance for the additional premiums.”

  “You intend to set the bar on fire with me inside?”

  He laughed. “Not me. Your new boyfriend. Now that I know you intended to leave him, I think it fills in the rest of the story. It’s all very tidy. Thank you,” he said, a mad gleam in his eyes. “Now, he’ll come home to find you packing to leave. The business is failing and without you to help him through it, he decides to set fire to his place and collect the insurance money. You fight, and he hits you. Hard.” Christian smiled and waggled the crowbar. “In a panic, he sets the fire and leaves. Your body will be found in the ruins, and the insurance company will tell the police that your boyfriend just bumped up his insurance—surely that’s no coincidence. No one will have sympathy for a man who kills his girlfriend and sets a fire to cover it up.”

  Lee could see it all in her mind—how it would play out. Christian’s timing was impeccable. Dylon wouldn’t even know about the fire until he was arrested for setting it and killing her. He didn’t deserve to suffer that. It would ruin his life.

  She’d never been in a fight, not even so much as a schoolyard scuffle, and now she was faced with the most important fight of her life. Being a nerdy numbers person hadn’t equipped her for dealing with a crazy man wielding a crowbar. She couldn’t outfight him, but she could outrun him.

  It was now or never. Lee dropped the flashlight and lunged for the door, pushing it shut behind her. As she reached the first flight, something heavy struck her in her right knee, and she stumbled forward. Searing pain shot up her leg, causing the entire lower right side of her body to cramp as she slammed into the wooden stairs. She fought through the pain and kicked out with her left foot, knocking Christian back down the stairs.

  Somehow, Lee found the strength to continue the climb. She knew if she didn’t keep moving, it was just a matter of time before he caught up. She had just made it to the third-floor landing, her apartment door in sight, when Christian came up behind her and grabbed a fist of her hair. He pulled her head back and slammed it into the wall.

  The world went out of focus and fuzzy around the edge. Stay awake! her mind screamed as she fought back nausea.

  Christian pressed the cold metal of the crowbar against her face. She was unable to move as he pressed his body against hers, still hol
ding her hair. “I told you this was a very handy tool. But I really didn’t want to hit you with it.”

  Her brain, foggy from the impact, couldn’t think fast enough. She couldn’t get away. Christian yanked her through the open door of the apartment, dragging her by her hair.

  As if it were happening to someone else, she was vaguely aware that her shoes had come off at some point during the chase, and now her bare feet were scraping across the cold hardwood. She noticed the pretty blue in the transom window over the door and the unique patterns of the ceiling tiles. She’d never appreciated the small details in the building before.

  He dragged her back to the bedroom and let her collapse onto the bed. She wasn’t able to put up much of a fight, but he still wrapped her hands with a pillowcase and used the cord from the bedside lamp to tie her to the headboard.

  With her completely at his mercy, Christian straddled her hips as he worked. When he was done, he sat back and looked down at her. She was helpless, and he knew it. A cold smile crossed his lips, and for a moment, she thought he’d rape her on top of everything else.

  He leaned down, but instead of trying to kiss her, Christian wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed.

  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to watch someone die. Do you know what I mean?” he said, relaxing his grip a fraction so she could take a breath. “To see that exact second when the light goes out of their eyes. I imagine it would be the most thrilling feeling, to watch as you snuffed out someone’s existence.”

  He squeezed tighter this time, and white starbursts blurred her vision. Lee pulled on her binding to no avail. She tried to kick and buck him, but he held on tight.

  Suddenly, he let go, and she took a big gasping breath.