Love, Lies, & Crime: Anthology

by Kimberly Blalock

  “Daddy,” I sigh, “I love you, but I really need to get going before I get too far behind. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  He winks at me and I scoot past Cooper, trying hard not to inhale his spicy scent or touch him as I make my way by, and tell him it is nice to meet him. It’s hard work not to turn around and drag him along with me like a cave woman, but I manage. I’m not entirely sure what has come over me but I never have this issue when it comes to men. I am always in control.

  I stand in the middle of the room, searching for the person I actually came to see. Except instead of finding him, my eyes stop on the girl in the holding cell. I watch her as she braids her hair, scooting away from the guy that’s in there with her when he gets closer. The rubber band snaps in her hand, and by the look on her face, it’s like her entire world is going to crumble because of it.

  After a second she finally realizes she’s being watched and seeks me out. She pulls herself together quickly and it’s like a shield comes over her, protecting her. Her brown to pink ombre style hair cascades around her face in waves as the braid comes undone.

  I want her.

  I need her.

  Spinning on my heels, I stride back to my father’s office. Since the door is still open, I don’t bother knocking.

  “The girl in the cage with the creepy guy,” I say, snapping my fingers to gain his attention. I know he hates it when I do that so the irritated look doesn’t come as a surprise. “Who is she?”

  Hovering in the middle of the doorframe, I wait for him to answer. I can’t keep my eyes away from her though. The possibilities with a girl that looks like that are endless.

  “Don’t know,” he says, walking up behind me. “She started showing up on patrol’s radar about a week ago. I guess she told them her first name is Harper, she doesn’t know her last name, or so she says. We ran her prints, but she’s not in any missing person’s database. She has no record, so it’s going to take some extra digging to find out.”

  “Why is she in here?”

  “She’s been sleeping outside. One of the patrol officers saw some guys harassing her so he brought her in to keep her safe.”

  My heart aches for the girl and the emotion throws me. For a while there, I was starting to wonder if I even had a heart left inside my chest.

  “Why is she in lockup?” I whisper.

  My father’s hand settles on my shoulder and I lean into him. “She fought him the first time he tried to help her. She almost broke his nose and then took off,” he chuckles. I hold back a laugh. “This last time she tried to fight him off again, so he cuffed her and told her she was under arrest for assaulting an officer. She didn’t fight him on that.”

  I have to have her.

  “She has nobody. If anyone has been looking for her, you would think she would have been reported missing by now.” His voice grows sad as he talks.

  “Release her to me.”

  “Danielle, I know you want to help,” I listen as his voice grows hesitant, “but you don’t know what you’re getting into with someone like that.”

  I spin around so I can see my father’s face. His eyebrows are drawn together and he looks worried. I haven’t seen him look like that since I crashed his car when I was sixteen. He was worried that I had been hurt, I was more worried that I had crashed his car. I reach up, smoothing the wrinkles out from between his eyes with my thumb and press my lips against his cheek.

  “Everyone needs someone. Let me help her.”

  Even if she wants nothing to do with what I plan on offering her, something about her makes me want to help her. He finally caves, waving an officer over. I slip from between my father and Cooper—who stands by, watching silently—and walk over to the cell Harper is sitting in. Her hair is still everywhere, so I reach into my clutch and pull out an actual hair elastic to replace the broken rubber band in her hand.

  “Hey,” I tip my head toward her, holding the elastic out to her. She stares at it but doesn’t move. “It won’t bite. I promise.”

  Harper eyes me suspiciously but holds her hand out. I drop it into her palm. Her nails are a mess, her clothes a disaster, and don’t even get me started on the boots on her feet. Her face though, other than the dirt marks over her eyebrow, is flawless.

  Keys jingle behind me so I step aside. Officer Hadley steps up and opens the door to the cage.

  “Harper,” he says, jerking his head toward the door. “You’re free to go.”

  She stands, making no effort to move from where she is. Almost like she’s wondering if she’s being tricked.

  “Harper,” Officer Hadley says again, “out of the cage.”

  She takes a tentative step, but stops to eye him. I finally hear her voice and it’s perfect. Not too high, not too low. I know I need her to work for me even more now because my clients will love her.

  “Why? You guys arrested me, and now I’m just free to go?” Her eyes flick to me, and then back. “I don’t get it.”

  Officer Hadley sighs. I bite my tongue to keep from saying something audacious. “You’re being released. Don’t question it, just go.”

  She doesn’t argue anymore and bolts from the cell. Her boots hit heavily against the floor, a completely different sound than the heels I hope to have her in by the end of the night.

  “Harper,” I call out, stopping her in her tracks, “you were released to me.”

  She wraps her arms around her body in an effort to protect herself. “I don’t know you,” she whispers, staring at the floor.

  With a smile on my lips, I step up to her. In my heels, I stand a few inches taller than her, so I have to look down to watch her face. “You’re right, you don’t know me. But believe me, you should want to know me.”

  I don’t give her a chance to think before spinning around and telling her to follow me. At first, I don’t hear her boots behind me, but by the time I hit the door she’s within a few steps of me.

  I almost forgot the reason I came here in the first place until I see the man I came for. I tell Harper to wait for me outside and wait until the door closes behind her to move or speak.

  “Mr. Jonathan Rice, I thought we had an understanding,” I say, keeping my voice low as I walk him backwards until his back hits against the wall. “You keep my girls safe, I keep your pockets lined. That was the deal. But, it seems to me that I am the only one that is holding up my end of it.”

  Jonathan attempts to step out of my reach, but he should know by now that I won’t touch him while we’re here. In fact, I won’t touch him at all. I wouldn’t want to get my hands dirty like that.

  “Dani, it’s hard to keep your girls safe when they aren’t where they’re supposed to be,” he whispers.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean? My girls are always where they’re supposed to be.”

  “No, they’re not. First Becky and now Elle. They both went off-book and left where they said they were going to be. You can’t blame me for something I can’t control. Learn to control your girls and you won’t be losing them left and right.” Jonathan looks from side-to-side to make sure we’re still alone before looking back at me. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here.”

  “You’re right. You better be at my place the second you’re done with your shift because this isn’t over.”

  Without another word, I spin away from him and march out of the station. Harper is waiting for me on the bottom stair and follows me through the parking lot without a word. My keys jingle in my hand as I walk toward my silver Aston Martin Vanquish. I smile like I always do when I look at it and the smile grows when Harper speaks again.

  “What the hell is that?” Harper whispers as she runs her eyes over my car.

  My hand comes up to rest on her shoulder as I press the unlock button on my key fob. “That, my dear, is a three-hundred-thousand-dollar car. Please do your best not to get it dirty.”

  She looks down at her grungy clothes nervously and back at me. I pull the door open, doing my best Vanna W
hite impression, and tell her to get in. I can always get it detailed later. I wait for her to get situated before closing the door and climbing in on my side.

  “Why did you bail me out?” she whispers as soon as I’m settled.

  I chuckle, trying not to give up the secret of why she was here, because I don’t know if she’ll want any part of what I’m offering. If she doesn’t, she may end up back here and I don’t want her to fight them on it.

  “Because I think I can help you get out of the situation you’re in.”

  She turns toward me in her seat. “How?” she asks.

  I mimic her move, turning toward her. “By giving you a job.”

  Harper hangs her head dejectedly. “I’m not sure what I know how to do.”

  “Well,” I say, “I’ll teach you everything you need to know but you need to agree to a few things first.” She hesitates for a second but nods when she finally does make up her mind. “Lie to me, you’re out; disrespect me, you’re out; steal from me, steal from my company, or report anything to the police, and you’ll disappear. You’ll do best to remember that nobody reported you missing in the first place.”

  “OK,” she utters. I barely pick up on the wobble in her voice.

  I laugh again before turning and starting the car.

  “You agreed to that awfully quick. How about you tell me why.”

  She runs her finger across the dash. “I want this.” She motions to her dirty clothes and boots. “Not this.”

  I shrug. That’s a good enough explanation for me so I don’t ask any more questions. We settle into a comfortable silence as I drive toward my place so I can introduce Harper to her new life as one of my girls.

  CHAPTER TWO

  After stopping the car, I toss the keys to Patrick, the day valet, and grab Harper’s hand. I pull her along behind me, walking us toward the elevators. I look over at her and I can’t help but laugh because the sudden urge to reach over and pull her chin off the floor hits me, but I don’t. Since I was the exact same way when I came here the first time, I can’t say a thing. At times the architecture does still hit me like it’s the first time I’m seeing it, but most of the time I’ve become so used to it that I don’t even notice how amazing it is.

  “You live here?” she whispers.

  I bite back my smile and swipe my card, granting us access to my penthouse condo. “Welcome to the Silo, Harper.” The doors begin to close but are interrupted by a briefcase sliding in the way. They spring back, allowing Aaron Zimmer from the third floor to get on. He eyes Harper and her boots and dirty clothing suspiciously.

  “Aaron,” I tip my head in greeting, attempting to pull his attention from Harper.

  “Ms. Beckett, I see you have another new friend.”

  The snide remark doesn’t faze me. It’s not the first one he’s made in the past few months. “Mhm, I have a lot of friends, Mr. Zimmer. This is Harper. Harper, this is Aaron Zimmer, he lives on the third floor.”

  Aaron scowls when I mention the floor he lives on, even though he’s about to get off on it in a second and she’ll know anyway. When you live here, it’s all about status, and he knows exactly how far below me he is. Harper does the same nod as I had just as the elevator chimes and he steps out.

  “Have fun down here.” He turns just in time for me to see the scowl on his face again, but the doors close before he has a chance to say anything else to me.

  Harper leans back against the rail on the wall. “That was a little condescending, don’t you think?” I feel like she might be scolding me, but when I look at her, she’s grinning. I have a feeling she will fit right in.

  “He needs to be put in his place every now and then. The only thing that you need to know right now is that he’s beneath you from now on. Both literally and figuratively,” I sigh, stepping off the elevator when we reach my condo. “He doesn’t make enough to even look at you anymore.”

  She follows along behind me like a puppy, trying to take in everything around her at the same time. “I don’t know what that even means.”

  “You’ll understand it soon enough. I hope by then you’ll see exactly what I can give you and why you want to work for me. But, in order to get you to that point, I need to get you sitting in on the staff meeting tonight.”

  Harper shrugs, her eyes on the two-story vaulted ceiling in my living room. “Whatever you need from me, I’ll do it.”

  Well, this is easier than I expected it would be. “First things first, we need to clean you up. There is a shower in the guest room, and I’ll lay out some clothes for you while you’re in there.”

  Nodding, she slides out of the atrocious boots on her feet and starts pulling at the hem of her sweatshirt. The edge of the shirt underneath pulls up with it, revealing a graphic, tattooed, underwater scene covering her entire side and dipping below the waist of her jeans.

  “Holy shit, Harper.”

  She drops her shirt nervously. “What?”

  “Your tattoo.”

  “My what?” she squeaks.

  I reach for the hem of her shirt and pull it back up. Harper’s eyes widen instantly when she sees the ink on her skin. She licks her finger, reaches down, and proceeds to try and rub the tattoo off, muttering, “Shit,” over and over under her breath.

  “Fucking thing is real,” she whines. Eventually, she gives up and drops her hand. Completely defeated.

  I rest back against the arm of the couch, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Did you actually think it wasn’t? Looks fresh, too. Go wash up, we’ll talk when you get out.”

  She nods deliberately and follows direction like the good girl I knew she would be. The sway in her hips, the way she moves so gracefully on her feet has me wondering what she did before she didn’t know who she was.

  Making my way into the sprawled out closet in my bedroom, I haul out a black dress similar to the one I’m wearing, but with an open back, and a pair of bright red heels that should fit her. I set them carefully on her bed so the dress doesn’t wrinkle and retreat from her new room.

  I’ve never had any of my girls live with me. In fact, rarely ever does someone stay with me at all. I know most people will think I’m crazy for having Harper stay here when I don’t even know her, but that’s fine with me. If I cared what most people thought of me, I wouldn’t be who I am today.

  For the first time in what seems like forever, I slip out of my heels, dropping roughly six inches, and pad across the floor into the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and notice an envelope by the entrance of the apartment. I bend to grab it; it’s not something I dropped because my name is written across the front of it. The hair on the back of my neck stands up when I realize that there’s no way for someone to get into my apartment without my access card.

  My hands shake as I try not to touch too much of the envelope. Everything my father has ever told me growing up slams back into me as I empty the contents out onto the counter. A piece of paper floats to the floor, but all I can see is Ella Smyth’s face, beaten and bloody, staring back at me across five or six photos.

  I rush to the trash can, emptying the contents of my stomach into the empty bag. This is the second set of photos I have received, the first being of Becky Pender a few weeks ago. I can’t bring them to the police though. If I bring them to their attention, everything I do will come out. I will lose everything and end up in jail. I can’t go to jail.

  I hear the shower water shut off and know I have to get rid of the photos before Harper comes out. I scoop them up, shuffle them into the envelope without touching anything but the corners and grab the note.

  You stop, I stop. Simple.

  This stupid fucking asshole is playing with fire when it comes to me. This guy knows exactly how to get to me, but what he doesn’t know is I don’t back down and I will win. I know it’s cold and heartless to keep putting my girls in danger, but it’s just until I figure out where the hell the bastard is hiding, and why he’s targeting me and my gi
rls.

  I stuff the note in with the photos and slide it into the drawer next to me. I mentally remind myself to stick it in the safe later just as Harper emerges from her room. Her hair is pulled back into a tight knot and the shoes I placed on her bed dangle from her fingertips. The corner of her mouth tips up in a slight smile as she runs her hand across the expensive fabric draped across her body.

  “Can you walk in those?” I laugh.

  For the first time since I pulled her from the jail cell, I’m graced with a full blown smile, but as soon as it’s there, it disappears. Her teeth are perfect; straight and white. There is no way in hell that this girl was a homeless chick for long. “I haven’t tried yet. Do you have Band-Aids? I seem to need some for my toes before I put your shoes on.”

  I look down at her feet; they’re a complete mess. Not homeless-gangrene-infected type feet, but years of training in hardcore ballet feet.

  “I don’t know what happened to them,” she murmurs.

  After I grab the bandages, I grip her chin lightly, pulling her head up until her head is held high like it should be. “Head high, heels on, and remember how high your standards need to be now.”

  Harper nods once, just to let me know she understands what I’m saying, and begins to cover the sore spots on her feet with the Band-Aids I handed her.

  “Sooner or later, Harper, you’ll remember who you are. Until then, be whoever the hell you want to be.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she grins.

  I shake my head and laugh quietly as I make my way toward the door and hold it open for her. What the hell is up with people calling me ma’am today? “Put the shoes on before we’re late. We don’t do late, on the beginning of the time clock or the end.”

  “Sit here.” I point to the white leather chair to my right as I take my seat at the head of the table.

  The rest of the girls file in one-by-one and take their seats. There is still an empty seat, the one that Ella used to fill. The emptiness is a reminder that we lost her, and a nagging threat at the exact same time.