by Maeve Hart
My plan with the dishes had worked. “Yes, I was just about to do them when you called.”
She walked on further, inspecting everything as she went.
“Well, let’s go and get that coffee.” I figured the less time she spent snooping around the loft, the better. I knew my mother’s brain was working overtime and that, coupled with the divination she’d suggested, could be a recipe for future disaster.
We headed out the door and as we walked down the stairs, she asked, “I’m guessing the person who owns the loft is a male?
“Yes, but don’t go reading anything into it. He’s just a client.”
My mother’s lips twitched at the corners.
“Change the subject, Mother.”
“Okay. I won’t ask again, but if you can’t trust your mother, who can you trust?”
I hesitated at the door that led into the street. She’d hit the nail on the head. Trust was something I had a problem with. “Don’t give me a hard time. I’m still getting over the shock of Don being killed.”
She put her hand softly on my shoulder. “I was only having a bit of fun with you. I’ll behave.”
“Thank you.”
“Lead the way to wherever makes the best coffee.”
I managed to get through lunch with my mother without her getting too suspicious about my new relationship. She had no idea that I was a shifter.
Chapter 5
Abbie and I had arranged to meet after she finished work at our old favorite hang out. It was a nightclub we used to frequent long before she started dating Steve and way before I’d met Donald.
I was disturbed about Granny telling me that the Alpha had wiped out her whole family and wondered if it was true.
There was a line of people outside the club and as I got out of the taxi, I saw Abbie talking to one of the well-muscled bouncers. She whispered something to him and as I approached he unclipped the rope so we could pass through.
I would’ve made some humorous comment to Abbie about him not checking our IDs now we were older, but she was already pulling me through the crowded dance floor to get to the bar.
I’d expected the bar to be different, but it was still the same. The vibe was still hectic, and the music was more thumping than what I’d remembered. Seeing girls with pink tulle arrangements on their heads, I knew we were walking through a bachelorette party. I pulled Abbie away and steered her off to the side. She pulled a face and soon we were at a less rowdy section more suitable for a couple of girls just out of their twenties.
When we got to the bar, Abbie ordered us two cocktails before I could open my mouth. The guy on the opposite side of her tried to strike up a conversation. She did her best to fob him off and, once we were armed with cocktails, we headed to the upstairs area. From there, we had a good view of what was going on below. We could see everyone who was dancing and only the bar area was hidden. As I stared at the intoxicated, rowdy people dancing and making strange gyrating movements, I realized that I was once one of them. Now, the day after was enough to have me stopping at two drinks.
“How are you and your new boyfriend, Jacques, doing?”
Typical Abbie, getting right to the point.
I giggled at her calling Jacques my boyfriend. “Things are good.”
“And the sex is good?”
“Naturally,” I lied through my smiling lips rather than explain that I didn’t know how it was because nothing had happened between us yet. It was kind of weird and complicated and I didn’t want to get into it with Abbie.
“So you’re a kept woman?”
“I guess I am. Which is probably just as well, otherwise I might have starved.”
“I don’t believe that. You would’ve made it. You’ve got a lot of talent. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Thanks. You’ve always believed in me.”
“I still do.”
I looked down at the dance floor to see that the girls in the bachelorette party were attempting to form some kind of conga line, but no one was interested. It seemed people were too drunk to know what the girls were trying to do. Now one had fallen over and the other girls were trying to help her up. It was quite tragic.
“How does your mother feel about you moving in with Jacques?”
“I haven’t actually told her. I’m staying in his loft apartment for a few days and I told her that it belongs to someone overseas and I’m housesitting.”
“And she believed you?”
I shrugged, trying not to look at what was happening below. “I don’t think so. She knows something is up.”
“Yes, she’s not stupid.”
“Detective Andrews called me and he wants to have coffee with me.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “You’ve got men coming at you from every direction.”
“It’s not social; it’s about the case.”
“Is that what he said?”
“That’s what it has to be. He mentioned something about having coffee before, but he said he wanted to do it when this was all over. And it’s hardly all over.”
“He would’ve forgotten that he said that. The trial might drag on for a long time anyway and that might be too long for him to wait. He’s a man, after all.”
“I suppose so. He doesn’t know about Jacques, so I guess…”
“If you’re not interested, you should’ve just told him you’re seeing someone.”
“It’s not as easy as that. I don’t think Jacques wants to be mentioned to the police.”
“Why not? Does he have something to hide?”
“I think it’s just… just that he doesn’t want someone looking into his business operations.” I shrugged. “I guess that’s all. Tell me what’s been happening with you.”
I listened for the next fifteen minutes while she told me about everything that was happening in the advertising agency where she worked. Apparently there was a hierarchy among the staff and everyone was climbing over each other to get to the top. It reminded me of the interior design company I worked for before I went out on my own.
“Let’s have another,” Abbie suggested.
“I’ll get one for you, but I can’t have any more. I don’t want to be hung over when I see the detective tomorrow.”
“Just one more will be okay.”
I shook my head. “You wait here.” I made my way downstairs to get us more drinks, figuring I’d just have a soda. When I stepped off the last step, I thought I saw Detective Andrews on the other side of the dance floor. He wasn’t dancing. He’d just been standing there, looking my way. Not sure if I was seeing things, I walked over to get a better look at where I thought I’d seen him. There was no one there. I had a weird feeling that he’d followed me. I decided to get the drinks and keep an eye out once I got back upstairs—I’d be able to see better from the higher vantage point.
I made my way back to the bar through the crowd, finding myself next to the same man who’d hit on my friend earlier. Once I’d ordered the drinks, he started hitting on me. He smelled of stale beer and smoke and he put his arm around my shoulders. I moved away from him and bumped into a man on the other side of me who glared at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the one I’d bumped into. He turned away without saying anything.
When my drinks were ready, I grabbed them and headed away just as the drunk guy was about to make another lunge at me. Once I was back upstairs I placed the two glasses on the table before I looked down at the crowd. It was hard to make out faces with the pulsating lighting pumping to the beat of the music. Giving up, I sat back down.
“I hope I wasn’t too long.”
“No,” Abbie said. “I was entertained by watching.” She nodded her head toward the dancers.
It was nice to be with Abbie. She was the one piece of normality right now in my crazy life.
As I was walking up the stairs to the loft, Jacques called me.
“Are you still out with Abbie?” was the first thing he said after I said hello.
/> I hadn’t recalled telling him I was seeing Abbie, but I must have. “I’m just home now. Are you coming over?”
“No, I’ll stay where I am now and catch up with you tomorrow. I’ve had a long day and I was just checking to see if you were okay.”
“I’m fine. I had a good day.” We didn’t say any more but we both knew I had the appointment the next day with Detective Andrews and we were both a little nervous over that.
I had a feeling Jacques had someone following me to make sure I was safe. That’s probably how he knew I just got home from being with Abbie. As soon as I saw him I wanted to hear from his lips whether or not what Granny had told me was true.
Chapter 6
The next morning, I paced up and down the floor of the apartment with my phone clutched in my hand. Glancing down at it, I saw it was a few minutes to eleven and very soon I would find out why the detective wanted to see me.
The trial wasn’t over and for all I knew they could still be investigating the murder despite what Jacques said.
The more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed that Jennifer would have killed her brother, especially now that I’d received the package proving that Don knew about things he shouldn’t have known about. Taking my emotions out of it, the obvious choices seemed to be Jacques, Granny, or maybe whoever had posted that package to me.
Something was going on and I had to put the pieces together. For all I knew, I could be next since I now knew what Don had discovered about Jacques’ family. Is that why Don was killed—because he knew too much about the shifters? Who else knew what Don knew? Don was working with someone. If only I had someone to talk the whole thing through with. I placed my cell phone down on the kitchen counter and continued pacing. The intercom sounded and I knew it had to be the detective.
I pushed the button and when I saw him on the video monitor I spoke. “I’m coming down now.”
“Okay,” he answered.
I grabbed my keys and threw my phone in my bag, locked the door, and headed down the steps.
I pushed the door to the outside world open. The detective was looking out toward the street. He turned around and smiled when he saw me.
“Hello, Ms. Stephens.” He was just as handsome as I remembered him. His eyes were as blue as ever.
“Please, it’s Destiny.”
“Fine. Destiny.”
“How are you?” I asked.
“I’m fine.” He nodded to the northern end of the street. “Why don’t we head up this way? Is that where the best coffee shops are?”
“Yes.” We walked up the street together. A voice in my head told me if things didn’t work out with Jacques I should turn my attention to the detective, but I dismissed that thought. Of course things were going to work out with Jacques—they already were.
“This is a good one here,” I said as I pointed to my favorite place.
The detective made a gesture with his hand. “After you.”
I walked in, hoping I didn’t look too fat from behind. And then I wondered if he’d be looking. Jacques didn’t mind about my weight, which was a welcome change because Don had complained about my size constantly.
I chose a table in the corner of the room so whatever the detective had to say he could say with no one around to hear. I sat with my back to the wall, as I was more comfortable if I could see everything that was going on around me.
A waiter hurried over, handed us menus, and told us the specials of the day. I wasn’t really listening and I could tell Detective Andrews had something on his mind—probably whatever he was about to say to me. Somehow I just knew that the news was not going to be good.
When he ordered a salad and coffee, I resisted the cakes and pastries that I normally had and ordered the same, not wanting to be judged by the handsome detective.
I thought I should get right down to the point and find out why we were there. “What is this about, Detective?”
“We’re not at the police station now and if I’m calling you Destiny, you should call me Logan.” His clear blue eyes crinkled at the corners. I didn’t know if it was his kind face or the way he said my name but I had a feeling he was trustworthy.
“Alright then. Logan it is.” I stared at him, waiting for him to speak.
“Don’s wife is contesting his will. That’s how we found out he was still married.”
I shook my head not thinking I was hearing right. “No. No, he wasn’t married. He was divorced.”
“We checked into that. He was separated but never divorced.”
My mouth was still open. “He told me he was divorced and I had no reason to think that he was lying about it.” I put my elbow on the table and held my head in my hand. “It’s just one shock after another.”
“Have you had other bad news?”
“I was referring to his death and the way his family has treated me.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry about that.”
“I just can’t believe it. Did his family know he was still married—legally?”
“No. Don told them he was divorced. His wife was living in England and came back after she heard about his death. She doesn’t get along with his family, apparently.”
“And she wants her share of the estate?”
The detective nodded.
“Was there much? I never knew.”
“Just under a million dollars.”
“Oh. That is a fair amount.”
“And since she was still legally married to him, she wants her share.”
“Would she get any since he made a will and she wasn’t in it?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got no idea how these things work. Only a lawyer would know. I guess she’s got some kind of claim, or she wouldn’t have come back here.”
I sighed, and then the waiter bringing the coffees interrupted us. The waiter informed us that the salads wouldn’t be long before he left us alone.
Staring at Logan, I asked, “What does this have to do with Don’s murder?”
“Maybe nothing. I contacted you because I didn’t think you knew he was married.”
“I didn’t. It’s an awful shock. Why would he ask me to marry him if he was still married? We had an engagement party and everything. He stayed most nights at my apartment so we were as good as living together.” In reality, I knew exactly why. He was only acting. He was using me to find out about my grandmother and, through her, Jacques. He probably figured it was only a matter of time before Jacques met me. Maybe that’s why he had the engagement party and invited Jacques. He wanted the two of us to meet because he needed more information. That had to be it.
“Are you okay, Destiny?”
“I’m sorry. I was a million miles away.”
“Speaking of millions, do you know Jacques Hunter?”
He’d asked me that before and I’d already told him that I’d met Jacques at my engagement party. “Yes, I’ve met him. He was Don’s boss. You must know that?”
He nodded.
A tear trickled down my cheek and I turned slightly away before the detective could see. I felt so deeply betrayed by Don. I had really loved him and all the while I was just a source of information; he never loved me at all. Hurt and betrayal stabbed at my heart.
Andrews looked at me with wide eyes full of sympathy. “I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you, Destiny.”
I sniffed and nodded. “I would rather know the truth. I don’t know why he didn’t tell me. He was obviously separated and I suppose he felt that was good enough. He’d even booked our honeymoon, so I don’t know what that was all about.”
“I’d imagine he would’ve thought a woman like you would have nothing to do with him if he was still married.” He smiled at me kindly.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
“What for?”
“Being nice to me, and for being understanding,” I said.
My eye was caught by the waiter bringing over our salads. The only thing I felt like was a huge bowl of ice cream
with hot fudge chocolate sauce. The news about Don would’ve devastated me more if I hadn’t had Jacques, but it hurt me badly enough nonetheless. He was the first man I’d ever really loved.
“Thank you,” I said to the waiter as he placed my salad down in front of me. I looked back at Logan who had just put a forkful of salad into his mouth. “I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me this in person. It would’ve been awful to hear it from Don’s family, seeing how they treated me the last couple of times I came into contact with them.”
With a mouthful of food, he could only nod.
“How is Jennifer doing?”
“I’m not going to win any popularity contest with her, that is for certain.” He gave a little chuckle.
“Are you still sure she’s the one who killed him?”
“She had the motive and she was there at the apartment on the day. We have a witness.”
Of course, I’d forgotten about the witness. Part of me wanted to point out that witnesses could be paid to say anything, but that might lead to the police looking in my direction again and I didn’t want that.
“Has there been any other information come up?” I asked.
“No.”
“What about the toxicology report?”
“We’re expecting that any time now.”
“That’s taking such a long time. Don’s murder was weeks ago.”
“It normally takes four to six weeks for us to get it back.”
“It seems a long time.”
“It is, but we have to work around it. It’s hard in a murder investigation where time is of the essence.”
“Yes, it would be,” I said, looking at the leafy greens I was going to have to eat.
“I don’t think there’ll be any surprises. There were pretty good indications that it was strychnine that killed him.”
They had positively identified strychnine in a bottle in my fridge, which also contained soda. I didn’t keep soda in the place. Don didn’t drink it, and neither did I. My best guess was that someone visited Don and made him an alcoholic drink and added the poisoned soda to the drink. The police had explained to me that strychnine has a bitter taste and needs to be masked by something sweet.
