Out for Blond

by V. J. Chambers

  “I’m not defensive.” I winced. Okay, so that was pretty ironic. Saying that I wasn’t defensive in such a defensive tone and all. “What I mean is, we’re good here. Things don’t have to get weird.”

  “Good.”

  “But this also doesn’t mean that I’ll completely write you off as the murderer,” I said. “Things aren’t weird, but they aren’t really different either.”

  He turned to the closet and selected a shirt. He shrugged into the sleeves and began buttoning it. “You didn’t think that I slept with you because I wanted to convince you I was innocent, did you?”

  I just gave him an even gaze. That was exactly how it seemed to me, actually. But I didn’t say that out loud.

  He finished buttoning his shirt. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I do have things that I need to be doing right now.”

  “Of course,” I said. I wasn’t one to cuddle either.

  “So we’re okay here? You promise?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He was out the door, leaving me alone.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt. The sex had been good. Really good. Not only was Gunner a very attractive man, but he was quite skilled at lovemaking. He done this thing, his fingers inside me… Anyway, I’d had a good time.

  But I was disturbed. On the one hand, I found Gunner’s behavior odd. Why had he slept with me? I didn’t get the feeling he done it because he was attracted to me. Oh, he’d seemed attracted during the act itself. Very attracted. I didn’t think that I’d been with a man so attentive to my pleasure in quite some time. But that was suspicious because it pointed towards another motive. Though he denied it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been intimate with me because he wanted to manipulate me in some way.

  On the other hand, I was disgusted with myself. I felt out of control. I didn’t want to get into situations like this with clients anymore, but it happened anyway. What was wrong with me?

  I left the farm quickly afterward. I didn’t want to think about what I’d done or whether or not I was a terrible detective or a terrible person. So I went to the bar. Crane was there, and I convinced him it would be a good idea if we both took shots. To his credit, he didn’t asked me what was wrong. I appreciated that.

  We both got drunk early and headed back to his place.

  In the morning, I felt even worse, because I’d slept with two different men in one day. I got up before Crane did, slipped out of his bed, and headed home. As my feet pounded on the sidewalk in the early morning light, I wondered if I had a problem.

  Even if I did, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I didn’t seem to be able to stop. I mean, that was the problem in a nutshell. I couldn’t stop. So, while it might be a good idea to stop doing it, I couldn’t.

  Maybe it was better not to think about this after all.

  It was earlier than I usually liked to go into the office. Generally speaking, I woke up fairly late. I usually didn’t make it in until around one o’clock. I didn’t have anything that I needed to accomplish in the office either but I figured I could make myself busy there. There was nothing I could do at home. Going back to sleep was out of the question, even though I was hungover and could have used it. If I closed my eyes, I would be barraged by feelings of guilt and confusion and worry. I needed to get away from that.

  So I swung by The Sunshine Skillet and got my typical breakfast and coffee and that I headed to work. To my surprise, when I got there, Brigit was already in the office. She greeted me with a cheery smile. “Hey, you’re in early.”

  I furrowed my brow at her. “You know that I can’t give you more money even if you’re here more hours. Especially if you’re putting in those more hours without my knowledge. I never told you to come in this early.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said. “I’m actually not working. The Wi-Fi is down at my place, so I thought I’d come in here and use the office’s to check my email.”

  “Got it,” I said. I headed back towards the inner office.

  “What’s up?” she said. “You got a lead or something? There a reason you’re here so early?”

  I kept moving. “Eh, I just wanted to get cracking today. No particular reason.” One thing was for certain, I wasn’t going to let Brigit know what a screwup I was. There was no reason for her to know that I had slept with the client.

  “Are you going to the farm? Because, you know, you really should reconsider taking me along with you.”

  I stopped and turned to her. “You know what? You coming along with me is actually a really good idea.” If Brigit had been there yesterday, I wouldn’t have slept with Gunner. I was an idiot for having denied her.

  * * *

  “My name’s Stella,” said the teenage girl. She was leaning against a fence outside the cornfield on the farm. Her hair was long and unbound, and she wasn’t wearing makeup. Her clothes were flowing rags—several torn and stained peasant shirts layered over a pair of leggings and boots. “And the cops are crazy if they think Gunner’s a murderer. There’s no way he would hurt anyone. He’s…” She let out a little sigh. “Amazing.”

  Here was more of this business with women gushing over Gunner. No wonder he’d been sure that I would be head over heels for him. Everyone else seemed to be.

  “Relax,” I said. “We’re actually only here because we want to ask you a few questions, okay?”

  Stella didn’t relax. “Gunner’s innocent, okay? I won’t talk to you if you think that he’s a murderer. I just won’t.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  Oh, Jesus. Spare me from teenage girls. I rolled my eyes.

  Stella saw it. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you? You’re here to hurt Gunner. Well, I won’t help you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Gunner is the greatest person on earth. He’s sweet and kind and good and gorgeous and—”

  “Gorgeous?” I said. No way. This girl was barely sixteen. “Is there something going on with you and Gunner? Something… romantic?”

  “I’m not saying a word.” Stella glared at me.

  Inwardly, I groaned. This girl was impossible. We should just move on. Talk to someone else.

  But Brigit turned to me with an eager look on her face.

  Oh, okay. She wanted to try to talk to this kid? Fine. I didn’t care. I shrugged at Brigit, giving her permission.

  Brigit grinned, rushing forward and offering Stella her hand. “Hey there, I’m Brigit Johansen.”

  Stella looked her up and down. “Good for you.”

  Brigit laughed.

  That seemed to throw Stella off a little. She uncrossed her arms, looking wary.

  “We’re not after Gunner,” said Brigit. “We’re after the truth. We really need your help. It’s important.”

  Stella chewed on her lip. “I’m important?”

  “Oh definitely.” Brigit nodded vigorously. “Can we ask you some questions?”

  Stella studied her fingernails. “I guess. About what?”

  “Well, about Gunner, about Tess, about Quinton, Kellen, Farrah and Odette. Do you know all of them?”

  “I know Gunner,” said Stella.

  “How’d you meet him?” Brigit asked.

  “Well, everyone meets him if they end up on the farm,” she said. “He runs things around here.”

  Brigit nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. And how did you end up on the farm in the first place? You didn’t grow up here?”

  “No,” Stella said. “I’ve only been here for maybe six months. I came here because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. They’re really nice here, you know. They take care of you if you need it, give you a place to stay if you’re all alone.”

  “So, you don’t have a family?”

  Stella shrugged. “The farm is my family now.”

  She was probably a teenage runaway, then. I didn’t know how legal it was for the farm to shelter kids like her, but I wasn’t going to say anything about it. After all, she might have left an even worse situation—drugs or viol
ence, for instance. Of course, for all I knew, Clayton was a vicious cult. Still, if Stella seemed happy, and nothing bad was happening to her here…

  “Why do you like Gunner so much?” I spoke up. I was going to press this point. If Gunner was sleeping with teenagers, I was going to make sure I found out about it.

  Both Stella and Brigit turned to me, eyebrows raised.

  “Would you stop it with that?” said Stella.

  “Ivy.” Brigit shot me an annoyed look.

  I didn’t care. “You like him sexually?”

  Stella blushed.

  “Did Gunner ever do anything to make you think—”

  “Stop right there,” said Stella, face flaming. “It’s not like that. You’ve got it all wrong. And I’m not talking to you anymore.” She turned and started walking.

  Brigit went after her, grabbing her arm. “Hold on, Stella.”

  I didn’t see why she was bothering to go after the girl. She was sullen and closed off. She was completely under Gunner’s thrall. She wasn’t going to give us anything good.

  “Look, it really is important,” said Brigit. “Don’t mind Ivy. She’s just trying to get to the bottom of all of this.”

  “Well, he’s not like that,” said Stella.

  “No, I know that.”

  Stella rubbed her toe against the ground, looking sheepish. “I’m not saying that I don’t, you know, think that Gunner is really amazing. And I should be so lucky as to have him be interested in me. But he’s never even acted like he was. And, anyway, I’m too young for him. But… I don’t know, maybe when I’m eighteen, then things might be different. I’d love to have him all to myself.”

  Brigit shot me a look.

  I shrugged again. I guessed that I didn’t think she was lying. She was a girl with a crush, but her feelings were unrequited. “Okay,” I said. “So nothing’s ever happened between you and Gunner.”

  “Well, he’s always really nice to me,” said Stella. Then her face fell. “But he’s nice to everyone, I guess.”

  Brigit reached out and patted Stella on the arm. “I’m sure he thinks you’re great.”

  “Gunner’s not a bad guy, okay?” said Stella. “He’s not a killer.”

  Brigit cleared her throat, redirecting her. “What about Tess? The victim? Did you know her?”

  “I met her,” said Stella. “But we weren’t close or anything.”

  “Can you think of anyone who might have had a beef with her? Did she have any enemies?”

  Stella furrowed her brow. “I don’t think so. It’s not like that here on the farm. People get along for the most part, you know?”

  “What about Kellen or Quinton. Did either of them have an issue with her?”

  “No, no one did,” said Stella. “Like I said, it’s peaceful here. We get along.”

  “Odette or Farrah? Those people?”

  “Farrah?” said Stella. “She’s the chick who’s with Quinton, right?”

  “With?” I spoke up. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, people don’t really get married on the farm, not exactly. But some people are in couples, and I’m pretty sure those two are. Yeah. Quinton and Farrah. Why are you asking about them again?”

  “Because they’re the ones who confessed to Tess’s murder,” I said. And Farrah had told me that she was celibate. Liar.

  “Oh, that was them?” Stella looked plainly surprised. “I didn’t realize… I guess I hadn’t seen them around much recently, now that you mention it.”

  “Do you think that Kellen and the others are responsible for Tess’s murder?” I asked her. I had to admit that Brigit had really brought this interview around. I was interested in Stella’s perspective.

  “Me? What does it matter what I think?” said Stella.

  “Well, you know them,” I said. “You live here on the farm with them. Are they capable of that?”

  Stella considered. “You know, I really can’t say. If you’d asked me before all this happened, I would have said no freaking way. No one here on the farm is violent, you know? But the truth is that I didn’t really know any of them that well. They’re older, and I didn’t spend a lot of time with them. Maybe they could have done it.”

  * * *

  I stalked back through the office to my inner office, feeling sulky. I’d spent the whole afternoon on the farm questioning people and gotten nowhere. Everyone was basically telling me the same story. No, there was no way Gunner could have killed Tess Carver. Gunner was a shining, pure saint of a man who could do no wrong—at least according to the residents of the Clayton farm. As for Quinton and the others, everyone seemed unsure. They echoed Stella. They wouldn’t have believed them capable of it before this happened, but in light of the events, they were unsure. Maybe so. They didn’t want to believe it, but they didn’t think it was outside the realm of possibility. Why they were so sure of Gunner but not of the others, they couldn’t say. They were anxious to repeat the party line that everyone was equal at Clayton and that Gunner wasn’t special in any way, but I could see that wasn’t true. It was obvious that Gunner was revered there, halfway worshiped. It all fit with the idea that Quinton and the others were lying to protect him.

  But I didn’t think Gunner had killed anyone.

  And not because I’d slept with him either. Considering everything that had gone down with Ralph, it was obvious that I was utterly capable of sleeping with a killer and not knowing it. Ralph had even been a serial killer, as close to pure evil as you could get. Had I noticed? Not at all. So, it wasn’t about sleeping with Gunner. (However, if it did turn out that I’d slept with two killers, I was going to flip my shit, seriously.)

  No, it was just a feeling I had. He wasn’t the saint that the others on the farm thought that he was. I could see that. But he wasn’t a killer either.

  So, I had gotten nowhere. I was no closer to figuring out who’d killed Tess Carver. And I hated feeling as if I hadn’t made any progress whatsoever.

  I would have slammed the door to my office in frustration, but Brigit stopped me.

  “Hey,” she said.

  I furrowed my brow. “What?” It came out sharper than I intended.

  She took a step back. “You know what? Forget about it.”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry, Brigit. I’m just annoyed because I’m not getting anywhere with this Gunner Bray thing.”

  “Because he obviously did it,” she snapped, turning on her heel and heading back for her desk.

  I leaned against the doorway to my inner office. “You really think that? Because I don’t. I think he’s innocent. I mean, he’s not a good person exactly. I think he’s manipulating all those people on the farm to think he’s wonderful. He’s obviously using his charisma for personal gain. So, maybe he’s a sleaze bag. But he’s not a killer.”

  Brigit sat down at her computer and jiggled the mouse. She wouldn’t look at me. “Now you want to talk about the case? The whole ride back from the farm I was trying to ask you about it, and you were completely tight lipped. Now suddenly you’re all vocal?”

  “You were trying to talk to me in the car?” I could swear that she hadn’t said a thing during the drive.

  Her shoulders slumped. “Why did you even bring me along, Ivy?”

  “Because you wanted to come.” Now I was starting to get annoyed. Seriously? Did nothing make her happy?

  “So, you don’t want my help, then? You brought me, but you aren’t interested in my thoughts or anything.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I said. “You have any thoughts?”

  She glared at me. “Forget it.” She went back to her computer.

  I went over to her. “Hey, I’m sorry. If you have something to say, you should tell me. Honestly, it’s been a while since I worked with another person. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m used to being inside my own head.”

  She was looking at her computer screen, not at me. “You know, you say that, but I don’t believe you’re even making an effort.” />
  “I am,” I said. “I want to.”

  She turned to me. “Oh really? Well, then, prove it.”

  “Prove it?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You know those bank accounts that you wanted me to look at for you?”

  Oh, right, the police officers. I needed to know who was getting a kick back from the O’Shaunessys. “What? You seeing anything out of the ordinary recently on any of those accounts?”

  “If I tell you, will you explain to me what this is all about?”

  Okay, now I really was annoyed. “Stop being a brat, Brigit. Tell me what you found out.”

  “You tell me why I’m looking at this.”

  “You don’t need to worry about why,” I said. “It’s not important.” I didn’t want her messed up with the O’Shaunessys. I knew how dangerous they could be, and Brigit needed to stay clear of all of that.

  “Come on, Ivy, tell me why are two of the police officers in this city suddenly depositing big chunks of money into their accounts?”

  “Which two?” I said.

  “Talk to me. If I’m working on this, I deserve to know.”

  I grabbed the computer screen and turned it away from her so that I could look at it. “Where are their names, Brigit?”

  She let out a long sigh.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I guess,” said Laura’s voice over the phone, “I’m just confused as to why it is you’ve been spending so much time on the farm.”

  I had my legs propped up on my desk, the phone cradled between my shoulder and my cheek. I wasn’t particularly thrilled about dealing with this phone call, but there was no one to field it for me. Brigit was so mad at me for not talking to her about the O’Shaunessy stuff that she’d left early. I had to field all my own phone calls. “It hasn’t been that much time on the farm, not really.”

  “Two days,” Laura said. “I suppose you’re going to be billing us for that time?”

  “Well, I’ve been working on the case,” I said. “So, yes, I will.”

  “But you’ve been questioning our own people. I’m not going to pay you for spending a bunch of time trying to prove that Gunner is guilty, because I know that he isn’t.”