Lightning Chasers
Page 1
Table of Contents
Synopsis
By the Author
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
About the Author
Other Cass Sellars Titles Available via Amazon
Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
Lightning Chasers
Sydney Hyatt and Parker Duncan were never meant to be more than a one-night stand. A year later, they can’t imagine life without the other. But Sydney’s urge to protect Parker, and her devotion to justice, strain their relationship when a cop and close friend is murdered and Sydney joins forces with the Silver Lake Police to stop the killer. Hidden evil and unexpected past entanglements test their love, and Parker fights for Sydney once again as she faces death at the hands of a new enemy.
Book Two in the Lightning Series.
Lightning Chasers
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Lightning Chasers
© 2017 By Cass Sellars. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-966-2
This Electronic Original is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: September 2017
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Ruth Sternglantz
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design By Melody Pond
By the Author
Lightning Strikes
Lightning Chasers
Acknowledgments
Thank you always to Ruth and everyone at BSB for allowing me to be here and for constructing a space to create and find so many stories about us. A special thanks to Cara who manages to read and proof right along with me despite her crazy life. To Ashley, Michelle, and Tracy who were Sydney and Parker’s first friends.
Dedication
Love and gratitude to Dee for your unwavering support and indelible belief that I am capable of anything.
Chapter One
Sydney Hyatt worked diligently from her home office that was tucked into the loft of her nineteenth-century repurposed warehouse. A large window formed the longest wall and offered her a sweeping view of her living space below. The old red brick contrasted perfectly against the modern white columns, visually separating the rooms from each other. She mused at how different the space felt now she often shared it with someone else.
A black convertible swept into the space next to hers and she leaned over to watch the driver walk toward the building. Parker was wrestling to balance her workbag on her shoulder and she clicked the car’s remote key before managing a graceful march toward their building on three-inch heels. Syd forced herself to return to her current project, despite the fact that she would rather be across the hall with Parker, her neighbor who long ago stopped being just someone who lived in her building.
* * *
Parker undressed and laid her suit over the slipper chair in her small bedroom and relished the feel of shedding her dress clothes after what had turned into a twelve-hour workday. Cotton shorts and a fitted T-shirt bearing a unicorn straddling a rainbow was as dressed up as she planned to be before she began it all again in the morning. She dragged her long brown hair into a loose ponytail and took a moment to appraise the space she spent little time in anymore. The journey had been paved by obstacles of wild emotions, a failed relationship, and fresh discoveries. The final destination brought a welcome independence and the person who had managed to round out her universe in a myriad of unconventional ways.
She snatched her keys from the table and locked the barn style, rolling door despite the fact that the other tenants, who ran businesses out of the space, rarely graced the halls after five p.m. She padded across the dark foyer carpet to Unit A.
She smelled the coffee that regularly accompanied Syd throughout her workday and a faint reminder of the cologne that her girlfriend wore. She glanced up to see Sydney hunched over her desk and proceeded to the bar which spanned the old brick of the outside wall. She deftly assembled a double scotch on the rocks and filled a stemless Riedel glass with a cabernet franc, taking a grateful sip of the earthy red before heading to the loft.
She could still hear Syd clicking away at the computer as she climbed the black iron stairs. She awkwardly balanced the drinks and pressed her thumb to the bio pad, releasing the door lock.
Syd turned her chair and smiled as Parker offered her the heavy rocks glass filled with the amber alcohol.
“Not what I want,” Syd said seductively and she curved a finger meant to encourage Parker to come closer.
Parker smiled and placed both glasses on the counter. “Fine. I’ll just let you get back to work then.” She shrugged playfully and turned toward the door when she felt strong arms around her waist. She was pulled onto the chair and into the crushing embrace that never failed to spur her heart into a drumming rhythm in her ears.
Syd skimmed her hands under Parker’s long hair, pulling the tie away, and bringing their lips together. Parker sank into the kiss that always felt like home base for her. The place she reset and regrouped. Syd’s arms were firm around her as Parker curled against her.
“How does being here always make me feel better?” She emphasized here with a tap on Syd’s chest. “You make all the daily crap seem insignificant.” Parker breathed into her neck and skimmed the skin below Syd’s ear with her lips.
Syd shivered at the contact that invariably caused her breathing to deepen and goose bumps to skim down her arms.
“I’m glad.” Her voice was husky from the sensory assault that Parker had delivered. “It means you still love me.”
“Maybe a little,” Parker teased and closed her eyes for a moment. “What are you working on so late?”
“This case from Bob’s office.” Syd knew she sounded frustrated as she turned the screen so Parker could see the DA’s latest pretrial case video she was constructing.
“You usually love these.”
“Well they’re usually much easier. Facts are all there and I just have to put them all together and make it look like a movie.”
“And?”
“And according to the investigator, the wife says the husband came home early from a business trip and walked in on an intruder. He died in a bullet exchange with the neighbor, who was allegedly breaking into their house. She says she only heard the commotion, but I have to replicate the wife’s movements from the bedroom. She says she was sleeping and hadn’t woke
n up until she heard the shots.”
Parked leaned into the animation that Syd had created on the screen, still pretty fascinated that she could make it look so real. “Okay.”
“Bob is fairly certain she’s lying about something significant and he sort of hopes we can prove it here”—she pointed at the now frozen image on the monitor—“since neither man is around to talk.”
Parker turned away from the video and bent over the police pictures of a tall woman with auburn hair tipped with platinum. The woman stood, looking distraught, in satin sleep shorts and matching top. The hooks of a lacy bustier peaked from the bloodstained camisole.
“She says she bent over her husband, which is fairly consistent with the staining on her pajamas since he was bleeding across his torso.” Syd pointed to the photo of the prone man’s body contorted between the walls of a narrow hallway. “They couldn’t find any GSR on her hands or any indication that she had changed clothes.”
Parker briefly considered the fact that she could now look at crime scene photos with Syd without wanting to throw up. She declined to consider it progress. “No gunshot residue just means she didn’t fire the gun—it doesn’t mean she wasn’t involved somehow,” Parker reasoned.
“True, and that’s what Bob says too but his new investigator is struggling with how.”
“Did he ask her about any affairs?” Parker glanced back at Syd.
“I have to imagine he did. Why?”
“Because she wasn’t asleep.” Parker was certain of this. “And I doubt she planned to be alone that night.”
“Oh, really. Do tell, Inspector Duncan, why do you say that?” Syd reclined in the chair as Parker dragged the woman’s photo toward them both, and pointed at her pajamas.
“She’s supposedly by herself because her husband is out of town? Please,” Parker scoffed. “I wear your faded Forensics Academy T-shirt and boxers when you’re out of town.”
“Still sexy as hell,” Syd said as she glided a palm along Parker’s thigh before Parker slapped it away playfully.
“Even if you are home, I would save satin bustiers and matching lingerie for special occasions. No woman sleeps in that crap. It’s ridiculously uncomfortable and a waste of a come get me outfit.”
“Do you have any such outfit you can wear for me right now? It might help me visualize,” Syd said teasingly, pulling Parker against her.
“You’re not listening to me.” Parker laughed at the playful bites Syd was doling out across her shoulder.
Syd straightened and released her hold on Parker so she could resume her explanation. “Sorry. I’m listening. I promise.” She snuck in a last peck against Parker’s cheek and angled the chair back toward the photos.
“Her hair is perfect and looks newly colored. Her manicure is fresh and she’s wearing earrings. I bet Bob’s investigator fell for the damsel in distress story, assisted greatly by her long legs and big boobs.”
“And you think she was meeting someone for a rendezvous of the sexual kind. Makes more sense than being sound asleep looking like a Victoria’s Secret model, I suppose. I guess I should have done the math myself.” Syd shook her head and began clicking the screens.
“You were probably admiring her big boobs and long legs too. I seem to remember that you had a type.”
Syd colored slightly and shook her head at the reference to her dubious past. “We both know my type consisted of willing and not too bright. I lucked out when you reformed me.”
“Damn right, you did,” Parker lobbed back jokingly and watched Syd work. Being reminded of Syd’s regular prowl of the Pride Lounge and less than significant encounters no longer made Parker feel wary or the least bit jealous.
“Did they see if there was any connection with the neighbor? Maybe while the mouse was away…”
“Great minds think alike.” Syd felt the new avenue of investigation taking shape and she scribbled thoughts onto a notepad for her conference call with the District Attorney in the morning. She pushed her new list of questions at Parker. The last one said, Affair with neighbor? “Maybe she and the lover wanted her husband out of the picture or hubby discovered that she was cheating and came home to confront them.” Syd marveled at the fact that the investigator seemed to have left those stones unturned. “Doesn’t mean she had a hand in it, but it certainly means she’s possibly being less than honest.”
“Right. Now how about you stop working for the night and order us Chinese and a bad movie?” Parker sipped her wine and slipped off Syd’s lap to stand beside her chair.
Syd skimmed a hand over her military short hair and leaned in to save her file. “Way ahead of you. Food should be here any second.”
“You think you know me, huh?” Parker levered her from the chair with comically exaggerated effort.
“Indeed.” Syd followed her down the stairs and fought the urge to steer her toward the bedroom instead of waiting for dinner. “I still think I need to study your come get me outfit, though.”
“Maybe I’ll give you a show later.” Syd was enchanted by the way Parker still flirted with her. The buzzer sounded from the lobby door and Parker jerked a thumb in the direction of the entrance. “But you’ll have to feed me first.”
Chapter Two
Sergeant Mack Foster tapped her thumb on the steering wheel of her SUV and watched for signs that her wife would make it to the car before the event was over entirely. The life she shared with Jenny now was many shades different than the carefree existence they had known before a baby and careers complicated it. She wouldn’t trade the life with her daughter for anything but it felt nice to be headed to an event with their friends for what Jenny had coined adult time.
“Sorry,” Jenny breathed as she heaved her tiny frame into the passenger seat and slammed the door. “Olivia was playing with the dog and I wanted pictures.” She held up her phone promising a later slide show.
“It’s okay. I called Sandy and they were running a bit behind as well.” She wound her fingers through Jenny’s thick blond mane absently as she backed down the driveway.
“Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, it feels weird leaving her for me as well,” Mack said reassuringly. “Anyway, they understood. Sandy’s been a cop as long as I have—schedules are nice, but never guaranteed, as you can attest.”
Jenny nodded with a wry grin. “Tell me about it.” She smoothed a hand over her midnight blue silk column dress and Mack planted a chaste kiss on her wife’s pale shoulder when a stoplight afforded her the opportunity.
Jen turned, smiling. “You look very handsome, Mack. I kind of miss doing these grown-up things together. I mean, I would do anything to be with Olivia Grace,” she rushed out guiltily, obviously thinking of their daughter now probably sleeping soundly at the neighbors’, “but it means a lot to be able to have this, just you and me.” She caught Mack in a soft kiss and sighed.
“You don’t have to qualify that with me. I miss my hot, carefree wife sometimes. We just need to remember to have date night more often, okay?” She considered her light gray pantsuit and midnight-blue shirt, and the small square silver cuff links at her wrists. “I kind of feel like we’re going to the prom since my shirt matches your dress.” She laughed and looked self-consciously at Jenny.
“I planned it like that. This way someone can return you to me if you wander off,” Jenny joked, gently kissing Mack’s cheek as she drove.
“We both know that is something you’ll never have to worry about.” Mack covered Jenny’s hand with her own.
“Are you happy, Mack?” Jenny’s tone was suddenly serious.
Mack looked carefully at her wife. “What would make you ask me that? I tell you how much I love you constantly.”
“I know, but there have been so many changes for us since last year and I just feel like I need to check in sometimes.”
Mack smiled as she pulled Jenny’s hand into her lap. She stroked a thumb over her fingers and glanced over at her. “I walked into a party many years ag
o expecting boring people telling half-truths about their accomplishments and overselling their dim children.” She brought Jenny’s hand to her lips. “But I walked away knowing that the only thing that would ever make me truly happy was a tiny blonde in a bad peasant blouse and the highest heels I’d ever seen someone stand upright in.”
Despite her attempt to insert humor in her answer, Mack was totally serious and her emotions rode close to the surface. “Do you know that I look at you every morning before you wake up and wish we could have known each other longer? That way I could have more years with you.” She couldn’t imagine sharing her life, her home, her daughter with anyone else.
“You know, I bought that blouse just for the party. It was very expensive.” Jenny looked mock-wounded.
“And it was very ugly, sweetheart.” Mack smiled and turned onto a residential street lined with dark brick bungalows.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Foster. I don’t let just anyone insult my wardrobe.” Jenny leaned against Mack’s shoulder. “But thank you for saying those things, Mack. I love you in a way I never thought would be possible.” She suddenly sounded wistful. “You know, when I realized I was attracted to women, I never thought I would grow up and get married, not to mention have a baby. You gave me all that. You make me feel very loved.”
Mack glided a strong hand over her wife’s back and took a deep breath. “If I ever forget to make you feel those things, hit me with something, okay?”
“Deal.” She held on for several more seconds, as if silently absorbing the woman who loved her so completely.
Mack stopped in front of an unassuming Craftsman bungalow just as the front door opened.