by Leanna Floyd
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Jasmine said. “And it’s a good thing I’m flying to Washington tomorrow with my team, or I might just have to give my pathetic little excuse for a sister a piece of my mind. I’d love to do it at dinner tomorrow, with all of our family there. Bringing Charlie into her wild lies-what a desperate cry for attention. She’s pathetic!”
She pushed a thick strand of lustrous brown hair behind her ear, and Jacob noticed the exotic turquoise earrings she was wearing. “How I wish I could be there when you finally tell her off so I could watch the expression on her face! You ought to just show up at Mom’s house tomorrow just as they’re about to take their first bites of turkey! I’ll give you the address if you want.”
He tried to smile. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure what I want to do right now. I just can’t believe I fell in love with someone so cruel and despicable. I feel so stupid. I’ve always thought I was pretty smart, but this…” Jasmine reached across and placed her hand, cool and soft with perfect French nails, on top of his. He hated for this beautiful woman to see him so raw and vulnerable, but Jacob had no defenses left. Shifting away from his embarrassment, he said, “So you won’t be able to have Thanksgiving with your family?”
“Afraid not,” she said, shaking her head as she let go of his hand. “I’ve learned to live with it—when our nation’s defense is at stake, what can I say? No, I’ll be on an Air Force G5 trying to hear my boss over the engine noise. I’m sure they’ll save me lots of leftovers. How about you? Are you going back to Tampa for the holiday? Maybe it will help you forget all of this.”
Jacob signaled their waiter for the check and said, “Yeah, I need to get back to work, too. It was impulsive for me to come down here… I just couldn’t stand not knowing any longer. It was driving me out of my mind. Thank you for telling me the truth. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
The waiter returned with their check and placed a small black leather portfolio on the table.
“I’ve got this,” she said, snatching the book and sliding a credit card in before handing it back to the waiter.
“No! I can’t let you do that! Here let me get that,” Jacob said. “I never let a lady pay.”
“It’s the least I can do. You seem like a nice guy, Jacob, you really do. I’m sorry you got caught up in my sister’s web of lies. She’s always been a little wacko, creating trouble wherever she goes, but to my knowledge, she’s never done anything like this.”
“She’s awfully smooth not to have done it before,” he said. “I’ve always been a good judge of people—or so I thought.”
“I’m sure you are,” she said. “And for all I know, she might’ve done it before. Like I said, my job consumes me, and I don’t have time for my own social life, let alone keeping up with Alicia’s.”
She looked up, smiled as their waiter returned, and quickly signed her name to the slip. Once they were alone again, she reached in her purse and said, “Here’s my business card. I’ll write my cell on the back. Call me if you have any more questions or if you feel like Alicia’s not telling you the truth.”
It was clear their conversation was over so Jacob stood as Jasmine rose from the table. They stood in silence for a moment, and he noticed how beautiful her liquid brown eyes gazed back into his. “I know this is crazy,” he said, stepping closer. “But sometime, after I’m over this, would you be willing to have dinner with me again? A proper dinner, with no mention of… you-know-who?”
She touched his shoulder, smiled, and said, “I’d like that. Let’s stay in touch.” Jacob wondered if it would be the last time that he would ever see Jasmine or not.
Chapter 39
“What do you think you’re doing, Brooke?”
She froze at the sound of Kevin’s voice. “Uh, hey—nothing, just, you know, looking for an old shirt or something I could wear while I washed the gravy stains out of my blouse.” She slowly stood and turned around, leaving the bloody-looking shirt on the floor where she’d been crouched.
“In other words, snooping,” he said and flipped on the overhead fluorescent lights, blinding her. “Do you know what time it is? Couldn’t you sleep?”
She forced a smile and said, “Sorry I woke you.” Crazy thoughts had started darting through her mind the moment she saw the crimson Rorschach in the glow of the LED penlight on her key ring. Images of Kevin hacking the body of some defenseless woman in Miami, unavoidably splashed by innocent blood. But that was impossible, right? She knew Kevin and knew how he made her feel. Maybe it was just a coincidence that he had been in Miami for the past week, right? And who would keep a blood-splattered shirt around anyway, other than, well, Hannibal Lecter and Dexter?
“Are you okay? I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said, pulling her toward him and holding her close. Brooke could smell the clean musk of his body and hated how much she desired him. But she couldn’t just pretend she had never seen that bloodstained shirt. It was now or never.
She pulled away from their embrace and said, “Actually, I… I guess I was snooping, sorry. I was looking for your washer and dryer, and when I opened the door, I noticed… well, that,” and she motioned toward the floor behind them. The sleeves of the stained garment, apparently once a white dress shirt, reached out toward them.
“Oh, my god, you’ve got to be kidding!” Kevin said and burst out laughing and then kissed her forehead. “Come here, I want you to see this, okay?”
She tried to share his amusement, but her nerves remained on high alert. Was he going to reach in that suitcase and pull out the same knife to use on her? She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.
“Every year at the office,” he said, holding up the crumpled shirt with its bright Rorschach stain, “my co-workers give me a hard time for not dressing up at Halloween. Our boss throws a big party, everyone gets drunk, and more than a few people have hooked up without removing their masks, if you know what I mean.”
Brooke nodded and managed to walk one step toward him.
“So, this past Halloween, I decided to freak them all out with a good scare,” he continued. “I went to Goodwill and bought this dress shirt and this blazer.” He pulled a tattered corduroy blazer from the bottom of the suitcase. Originally a dull blue, it too was splattered with patterns of red-turning-to-brown. “I wore it all day, like I normally would at work, and then went straight to our office party. After everybody got there and had thrown back a few, I went in the bathroom, poured fake blood all over my face, neck, and chest, and stuck this in my throat.” He pulled half of a very realistic looking straight razor from the bag, and she winced automatically. “And then I came out screaming and scaring the holy bejesus out of everyone!”
Kevin held out the fake razor, and her hand was shaking as she took it. Gently testing it, the plastic blade felt spongy to her touch. It had a flesh-colored band so you could wrap it around your neck. It really was just a prop.
“Oh, look, here’s the rest of the fake blood I used,” he said and held up an empty canister dripping with scarlet goo. “I really should have just thrown all this away, but whenever I thought of it, I hated for my neighbors to see me carrying down an old bloodstained suitcase. What would they think? What did you think?”
Brooke couldn’t help herself and started crying and laughing at the same time. “Well, I thought…” He didn’t let her finish but swept her up in his arms.
“Oh, my god, you thought I—” Holding her to his chest, Kevin said, “I’m so sorry, babe! Did you really think I was Jack the Ripper?”
“Well, no,” she said and kissed him on the mouth. “Yes, I guess… I didn’t know what to think, okay? Forgive me. With the Barton case and the Surfside Killer… I guess my mind immediately wanted to jump to conclusions.” In the bright fluorescent glare, what had looked like blood only moments ago now looked too bright, too garish. She felt silly, like a little girl seeing monsters in her closet that became nothing more than dresses on hangers when her mother turned on the lights.
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“I understand,” he said. “I don’t blame you. Please know I could never! Like you, I can analyze that kind of stuff, talk about it, and write about it, but I’m not sure I’ll ever understand it.”
She nodded and led him toward the door. “Let’s go back to bed.”
Chapter 40
After his meeting with Jasmine, Jacob returned to his hotel. His mind wouldn’t stop spinning as he thought through his next steps. Not wanting to be alone, he headed for the hotel bar and ordered bourbon on the rocks. He noticed a text and several calls from Brooke but wasn’t ready to talk to her yet.
The whole thing was surreal. As angry as he was about Alicia, he couldn’t help enjoying himself with thoughts of Jasmine. Of course, in one sense, it felt like he was finally meeting the woman he thought of as ‘his Alicia’ because Jasmine’s pictures had been used. And Jasmine was as beautiful, and seemed as classy and smart, as he had come to believe Alicia must be. Plus, he had impulsively asked Jasmine if she would be willing to see him again, and she seemed sincerely pleased by his request. Wouldn’t it be funny, after all this, he thought, if Jasmine and I ended up together? He downed the last of his Maker’s Mark and ordered another.
He was torn about what to do. Part of him wanted to stay in Miami and stalk Alicia until the moment was right to confront her. The other part wanted to take his time and think this through. After all, didn’t they say that revenge was a dish best served cold? Maybe he could come up with some way to hurt her as deeply as she’d cut into him. In the meantime, he might just sit there and drink. Between the drinks and wine at dinner and his second, or was it third, bourbon, he was finally starting to feel the mellow numbness that melted Alicia from his mind if not his heart.
The hotel bar began to fill with new arrivals, out-of-towners there for the holiday or bosses closing one last deal before a long weekend off. Glancing up at the ball game on the flat screen, Jacob noticed a sexy woman smiling back at him from the other end of the bar. She wore a form-fitting lacy black dress cut so short; he could see the curve of a cheek peeking out from the edge of the barstool.
Shoulder-length platinum blonde hair framed a beautiful face and fell on shoulders expertly kissed by the tanning bed. A gold heart pendant pointed down to her ample cleavage, as if any man wouldn’t notice otherwise. Her attention shifted as a suited businessman, a heavyset, older type, bald with a fringe of white hair, came up behind her to order a drink and test the waters. The young woman turned and said something that made the man laugh and then began to loosen the repp-striped tie around his neck. He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed louder than he had.
Jacob knew her type, and at the moment, her company didn’t sound so bad.
Usually he despised this kind of woman who was so obvious about for whom she was looking and how much she cost, but at least she was transparent. At least you knew what you were paying for. Not like that bitch Alicia, playing head games for her own sick, twisted fun. God, he hated her. Lying about her own son, for god’s sake. Who could lie about that kind of thing? He hated himself for being such a sucker. How could he have allowed this to happen?
“Hey, there you are, stranger,” said a sultry voice and he knew to whom it belonged before he turned. “Been here long?” She finished the last of her drink through cherry lips.
He smiled and said, “Long enough. How ’bout you?”
Her arm was touching his, and she smelled of roses mixed with something sharp like citrus. Or maybe that was just the lime in her vodka and tonic.
“Just got here,” she said, leaning into his shoulder so she could put her lips closer to his ear. “Got off work and thought I’d pop over for a drink or two. You visiting for the holiday?”
“Something like that,” he said. “Bartender—can we get two more? Maker’s Mark and a vodka tonic with lime for the lady.” The hip, bearded young man behind the bar nodded and began pouring their drinks.
“So, uh, you meeting someone or are you alone?” Jacob felt himself being intoxicated by her presence as much as the bourbon. Why did beautiful women always have this effect on him? It was his weakness and he hated himself for it.
“Yes, I’m meeting someone,” she said and then added silkily, “you.”
He grinned and dug a twenty out of his wallet for their drinks. “Keep the change,” he told the bartender who thanked him and winked as he nodded toward the woman.
“Something tells me you’ve used that line before,” Jacob said.
“Lots of times. Well, hey, why fix it if it ain’t broke, right?” she said, batting impossibly long eyelashes. Then they both laughed and clinked their glasses in a toast. “To new friends,” she said.
“I’m Connor,” he said, using his favorite alias, which was the beauty of having a last name that sounded like a first name. He felt a blissful, dull buzz washing over him.
“Samantha—Sami,” she said. She remained standing and her left hand rested on his right knee. Then leaning in to whisper in his ear: “You like to party, Connor? Maybe you and I could start giving thanks a day or two early.”
“Oh, yeah, I like to party, Sami,” he said. “And truth be told, I got some bad news this week, so I could sure use something to make me feel better.”
“I’m sorry, sugar,” she said, her hand sliding up his thigh. “I’m all about making you feel better.”
He threw back the rest of his whiskey and realized how badly he needed to find the men’s room. “I’ll be right back, Sami,” he said, adding, “Got to make a call—a call of nature,” and then laughed at his own joke as only a drunk can do.
“You better be right back,” she said, then forming her wet lips in a mock-pout. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jacob staggered through the lobby and found it more crowded than the bar. He glanced around until he saw the sign for the men’s room. He liked the hotel, how bright and clean and elegant it felt, how even the bathroom seemed tasteful with marble tiles, dark oak molding, and porcelain fixtures. While taking care of business, he heard the door behind him and suppressed a giggle thinking how hot it would be if Sami had followed him. Instead, it was the bearded bartender, who nodded and began washing his hands. Jacob nodded back, lost his balance, and braced himself against the wall.
“You okay, man?” the bartender asked in a friendly tone. “I know Sami can be a little too much to handle sometimes.”
Jacob looked over his shoulder and realized the young guy was talking to him. “She’s a knockout, that’s for sure,” he said, zipping up and joining the young man at the sinks. “And it’s about time my luck changed.”
The bartender handed Jacob a couple of towels to dry his hands and said, “She has expensive tastes, if you know what I mean.”
Jacob smirked, “Oh, yeah, I know exactly what you mean. Women, can’t live without ’em, can’t afford to live with ’em.” He laughed at his own joke once again, and the bartender politely joined in before following him out.
When Jacob re-entered the bar, however, Sami was nowhere to be seen. More bodies had crowded into the place, and the sound of voices, the college bowl game on screens above the bar, and the clatter of glasses overwhelmed him. He looked around for his new buddy the bartender and caught his eye. The bartender shrugged as if he, too, didn’t know what happened to the sexy vixen. Then Jacob saw her, out in the lobby of the hotel, waiting by the elevator with the old, fat, bald businessman she’d been flirting with before she’d hit on Jacob.
A cold, electric current washed over his body as Jacob cursed her under his breath. Suddenly sobered despite the amount of alcohol in his system, he stormed over to the bar and ordered a double. The bartender said, “Guess she found a higher bidder. Sorry, buddy.”
“No worries,” Jacob said, forcing a smile. “She really wasn’t my type anyway.” Although he sat there for another hour, he never re-gained the blissful buzz he’d cultivated so carefully before Sami ditched him. Finally, he decided to call it a night and head up to his room. Alo
ne on the elevator, the very same elevator that Sami and her sugar daddy had taken that evening, Jacob smiled to himself. “Good luck, bitch,” he muttered. “I hope you get what you deserve.”
Chapter 41
Monday morning Brooke knew she was paying for playing all weekend. Pulling into the parking lot a block from the courthouse, she thought she looked pretty good, all things considered—that she had ironed only the front of her blouse, which of course meant she had to wear a jacket, which in turn meant her navy ‘interview’ uniform since she had worn the new grey chalk stripe when she testified. With her grandmother’s pearls and a new shade of lipstick called Fresh Berry Crush, she hoped she looked more put together than she felt.
She still felt guilty for neglecting her research and not grading student essays.
Between getting ready for her testimony right before Thanksgiving and spending time with her new boyfriend—Is that what Kevin was? She had fallen behind. When was the last time that she had met someone like Kevin, someone whom she loved being with so much? Maybe things were moving too fast between them now, but it was a nice problem to have.
Brooke noticed she wasn’t the only one who had enjoyed the long holiday weekend; the courtroom buzzed with animated whispers from various clusters of reporters and visitors. She looked for Jacob even though she knew he wouldn’t be attending and instead saw Kevin smiling back at her. She waved to him and raised her eyebrows as if to ask, “What’s going on?” Kevin shrugged back at her and mouthed, “Who knows?” before smiling and turning back towards the defense team.
Looking for a vacant seat, she saw D.A. Carver motioning her forward and pointing to a vacant seat behind his table. The dapper district attorney looked like he was already ushering in the Christmas season with his dark green suit, white shirt, and maroon tie. Brooke rushed toward him and nearly tripped in her navy heels with the ankle straps.
