Dead For Good Book 1

by Stacy Claflin

  She made it to the room without a sound. It was hard to see in the dark, even with her eyes adjusted. She felt her way, bumping into a dresser, and after her hand brushed a trophy, she found the bat on a shelf.

  It teetered.

  Her stomach plunged.

  She grabbed it and steadied it. Bumped the bat.

  It rolled toward the edge.

  Her fingers brushed it. As it tumbled off the shelf.

  She whispered for it to stop. Pleaded as she reached for it. Maneuvered herself under the bat to break its fall. Somehow managed to catch the thing between her side and arm. Wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed. Clung to the wood while desperately trying to catch her breath.

  The gun would’ve been the better idea.

  Or it could’ve been worse, given her current clumsiness.

  She needed to get outside. It was dumb to think she could face off with two people. And it wasn’t like Duke could use any of his stuff anymore. But that didn’t give them the right to come in and ruin any of it.

  He also wouldn’t want her risking her life over some things.

  Slam!

  Were they leaving? Or was it a trick? They could be trying to lure her out.

  She hurried to the stairs, gripping her new weapon.

  Silence.

  Hadley waited a moment before making her way down again. This time, she avoided any creaky boards.

  At the bottom, she listened. Then, breath hitched, headed toward the front door. She was ready to clobber someone, despite her shaking hands. Or at least give it her best effort. Looked around. Didn’t see the burglars or what they had been destroying.

  Hadley darted to the window.

  Two people, a man and a woman. Racing away.

  Heading up the walkway to her house.

  Probably for a conversation with Dad.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Faye waved goodbye to her client and headed back to her station to sweep the hair from underneath the chair.

  Cheryl stepped in front of her as she was reaching for the broom. “I heard about Duke. What a shock!”

  “I know.” She moved around her friend and swept the mess, trying to ignore the pressure building near her temples.

  “He lived near you, right?”

  “Next door.”

  Cheryl gasped. “Did it happen there?”

  Mandy and Bella inched closer.

  Faye sighed. May as well share the story now, while none of them had clients to hear. “Yes.”

  “Were you guys home?” Bella asked.

  “Your kids?” Mandy asked.

  Faye considered her words carefully. “The police don’t know exactly when it happened, so it’s hard to say.”

  Cheryl embraced her. “You must be so shaken up! I don’t think I could come into work after one of my clients was murdered so close to home.”

  “I’ve had the weekend to process it. Besides, the neighborhood Super Bowl party was held in his honor.”

  “It’s so nice everyone could come together like that.”

  Faye smiled and checked the time. “It was, but I’ve got to get ready for my next client.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Bella’s doe eyes were even bigger than usual. “I’d seriously be freaking out. I mean, he’s one of your regulars.”

  “And super hot,” Mandy added.

  Bella shoved her. “Not the time. Seriously?”

  “Duke was a really nice guy.” Faye sprayed the chair and wiped it. “He was the kind of guy that would give anyone the shirt off his back. I think that’s what’s the hardest. It doesn’t make sense why someone would want him dead.”

  Mandy leaned closer. “Did he give you any clues?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was in every week, and you two were always chatting. He ever say anything about someone who didn’t like him?”

  “It was every other week. And no, he mostly talked about things that were going well for him. His business always seemed to be booming. He’d just hired another virtual assistant because it was too much for him, even with the two he already had.”

  The other stylists exchanged knowing looks.

  “What?”

  Bella tilted her head. “It sounds like you know a lot about him.”

  “Not really.” Faye glanced toward the door. No client coming to save her.

  “Do the police know about his assistants?”

  Faye tidied her supplies. “I don’t know. They’re more interested in asking questions than confiding in me.”

  Ding!

  A customer walked inside.

  Saved by the bell.

  Mandy patted Faye’s shoulder. “Think about what he told you. There’s probably a clue in there somewhere. Even if it was just a passing comment.”

  Faye didn’t respond as the others dispersed to their stations. Her mind turned over their recent conversations. She’d already replayed them what felt like hundreds of times, but maybe being at work, where she’d spent the most time cutting his hair, would jog a memory.

  The rest of the morning went by in a blaze and she distracted herself by asking her clients about their weekends and telling them about Hadley’s lead role in the play. None of them brought up Duke. Though between clients, she did think back to their conversations with him in her chair.

  As she was sweeping purple curls, something Duke said about a month ago struck her. He’d been complaining about an online troll who refused to leave him alone.

  After the last client left the salon before lunch, her coworkers crowded around her again.

  “Think of anything?” Mandy asked.

  Faye hesitated.

  “You did!” Bella’s eyes lit up. “Tell us everything.”

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “It’s definitely something.” Cheryl stepped closer.

  They all stared.

  “He had an online troll. But he sounded annoyed about it, not worried.”

  “Because the troll was threatening him?” Bella plopped onto Faye’s chair. “Did he want Duke dead?”

  “He didn’t say anything about death threats.” She focused, trying to recall what exactly he’d said. “It was a few weeks ago. He could’ve already resolved it.”

  Mandy pursed her lips. “Or the situation could have escalated.”

  “Have you told the cops?” Cheryl asked. “That could be a clue.”

  “I just remembered.”

  “You have to tell them,” Mandy urged.

  The others nodded in agreement.

  “I’ll think about it.” Faye marched to the back room and pulled her sack lunch from the fridge.

  “Think about it?” Bella exclaimed. “A great guy was murdered, and you have a clue that could solve the case.”

  “Or it could be nothing.” Faye sat at the table and dug into her jalapeño popper chicken salad. “There’s a huge jump from internet troll to cold-blooded killer.”

  Mandy sat, holding Faye’s gaze. “Or maybe there isn’t.”

  “The police have spent the weekend at his place — it’s still taped off. I’m sure they’ve pulled everything from his computer and phone. I wouldn’t be telling them anything they don’t already have access to.”

  “But you don’t know that.”

  Faye’s stomach churned acid, and she put the lid back on her salad. “Maybe.”

  “No maybe about it.”

  She drew in a deep breath.

  Cheryl rested her hand on Faye’s. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  “Brad doesn’t know I’ve been cutting Duke’s hair.”

  “So?” Mandy asked. “My partner doesn’t know about most of my clients.”

  “Are any of your clients your partner’s neighborhood rival?”

  All three scooted closer, showing surprise in their own ways.

  “Duke was Brad’s nemesis?” Bella asked.

  “It was nothing serious,” Faye said quickly. “Nemesis is an awfully big word for th
eir friendly competitions. Super Bowl decorations, Christmas lights, fireworks displays. That sort of thing.”

  “Is he a suspect?” Mandy asked, then left her mouth hanging open.

  “No. The police have only asked us questions.”

  Bella said, “Brad can’t seriously be that upset. I mean, the guy is dead. And it’s only hair.”

  “You don’t get it. I know it sounds crazy, but he really didn’t want us interacting with Duke. The guy really got under his skin.”

  “Wait.” Mandy narrowed her eyes. “You said he and Duke had a friendly rivalry, now you’re saying he didn’t want any of you interacting with him. Which is it?”

  “A friendly rivalry.” Her stomach knotted, but she managed a smile.

  “Why didn’t he want you interacting?” Bella asked.

  “It got under his skin.”

  “So, he and Duke weren’t friends?” Cheryl asked.

  “The competition was friendly. That doesn’t mean they were buddies.”

  Mandy lifted a brow. “Sounds suspicious to me.”

  Faye never should’ve said anything. “You’re making it sound worse than it was.”

  “Really?” Bella looked at her. “Your husband didn’t want you interacting with Duke, and you don’t want him to know you were cutting Duke’s hair. Sounds pretty cut and dried to me.”

  Cheryl frowned. “I didn’t realize Brad was like that.”

  “He’s not. Everyone has their quirks. That’s one of his. I’m telling you, it’s no big deal.”

  “Why didn’t you ever mention it before?” Mandy asked.

  “Do you have other rules you have to live by to keep him happy?” Bella asked.

  Faye pinched the bridge of her nose. “No.”

  “Do you feel safe at home?” Cheryl asked.

  “Oh my gosh!” Faye leaped up, nearly knocking the plastic chair over. “I’m not an abused wife! It’s just one little secret — every marriage has them. This only seems like a big deal because Duke is now dead. Maybe I’ll tell the cops, and maybe I won’t. But I really don’t think the troll issue has anything to do with the murder.”

  She shoved her salad back in the fridge before storming into the salon. Another fifteen minutes before her next client.

  Footsteps sounded behind her on the tile.

  Faye rushed outside and stood under the eaves, watching the rain pour down. But it didn’t soothe her frayed nerves. Now her coworkers thought Brad was some kind of control freak or an abusive husband — exactly what she didn’t want them thinking.

  Unfortunately, given their recent argument about a home salon, standing up for her husband wasn’t as easy as she wanted it to be.

  After a few deep breaths, she began to relax.

  Could the other stylists be right? If she told the detective about the online troll, it might move the focus away from Brad. That would definitely be in their favor. Especially if it panned out as a legitimate lead.

  But if word got back around to Brad that Faye had been the one to tell them, that would surely invite a new set of problems into their marriage. They’d need to return to counseling. No doubt about that.

  Though really, that might not be a bad idea. Both Hadley and Zeke were upset about the murder. Something like that would’ve shaken her up at their ages. It shook her even now at her current age. She was worried about her children’s safety and preoccupied with her little secret. And that’s all it was, nothing to worry about. Her coworkers were making far too big a deal about nothing.

  Maybe Faye could find a way to mention the internet troll to the detective in a way that wouldn’t add more suspicion than there already was. She’d already screwed that up with the other stylists.

  She’d have to be far more careful when speaking with the detective. This was a practice session. Something to learn from so she didn’t ruin anything with the investigation.

  But word might get back to Brad. The detective would want to know when Duke told her about the troll. She could not say work. What if the cops put two and two together, figuring out that she’d trimmed his hair that night, even without her saying a word?

  She flashed back to seeing the blood behind Brad’s ear the night of the murder.

  What had he really been doing? Was it really something innocent?

  And what about the way Rose had been hanging on Brad at the party?

  He was hiding something.

  Faye needed to find out what.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brad killed the engine but didn’t get out of the car. His head pounded, and the only thing he wanted was to go upstairs and sleep. Kurt still hadn’t shown up to work nor given Brad any of the promised help — no call from an attorney or from the man himself. His boss might have been nursing a hangover from his party the night before — it wouldn’t be the first time he’d missed work for that — but it was inexcusable for him to leave Brad hanging like that for this long. Kurt had promised to help him on Saturday morning, and it was now Monday evening.

  To make matters worse, the detective had shown up at work asking questions. Based on what she was asking, they had nothing new on Brad. She just wanted to intimidate him by appearing at his job and even tossed a few queries at the other employees. Rose had jumped to Brad’s defense, saying she and Justin had seen Brad and Faye that night, to which Justin agreed. But Rose stood so close to Brad and acted so flirtatious, she almost made it seem like they had something to hide.

  The girl had never been the brightest on a personal level, though it could’ve been an act since she was such a talented assassin, or maybe she had some small crush on Brad, but either way, she wasn’t helping his case. She’d piqued the detective’s interest, which would only make things harder on Brad.

  Before Detective Stewart had left, Brad mentioned Lucas saying that Fallon and Duke had had an altercation. She made a note but hadn’t seemed all that interested in following the lead. Probably thought Brad was making it up.

  He dug into the glove box, found a bottle of ibuprofen, and popped a few, swallowing them with a flat soda. With any luck, they would get him through dinner, and then he could either go to sleep or lock himself in his office and try to reach Kurt. Again.

  He took a few deep breaths and prepared himself for his family. As upset as everyone was about Duke, they’d likely all be mopey. He needed to help them focus on the positive so they could all move on with their lives.

  He stepped inside and heard cartoons and Luna’s laughter from the living room. The scent of something cooking made him salivate. Roast?

  His evening was turning around.

  Until he entered the kitchen. As Faye mixed something in a bowl at the counter, Allison stirred something in a pot on the stove.

  Brad bit back an annoyed retort and instead kissed Faye, ignoring her guest. “Need any help with dinner?”

  “No. But can you check on Zeke? He’s supposed to be doing homework, but I think he’s still playing Zombie Wars.”

  “You bet.” Then he whispered in her ear. “She isn’t staying for dinner, is she?”

  Faye shook her head and gave him one of her looks, which meant they would talk later.

  Yes, they would.

  Brad snuggled Luna before checking on Zeke, who was glued to his computer and tapped his shoulder.

  His son looked up, guilt in his eyes, and pulled off his headphones. “This round is almost over. Then I’m going to start my algebra homework. I swear.”

  “Your mom said you were already supposed to be doing that.”

  “This round went long.” He eyed the screen. “And my squad is winning. Please let me finish. I’ll wash the dinner dishes. For the rest of the week.”

  “All right. But you better finish all of your homework.”

  “Thanks, Dad!” Zeke beamed as he pulled back on his headset and spoke to his online friends while adjusting the mic.

  At least he was on someone’s good side for a change.

  Brad patted his son’s shoulder
before changing into something more comfortable, then checking his phone for a call from Kurt. And, of course, still nothing.

  He glanced out the window before heading back downstairs.

  Allison was walking down the sidewalk. Brad swore he heard a choir of angels.

  He hurried downstairs and stirred creamed corn as Faye checked the temperature of the roast. “Why is Allison around so much suddenly?”

  “She’s just being friendly.”

  “Friendly?”

  “Is there an echo in here?”

  He stepped back as she pulled the meat out of the oven. “You don’t really think she has any other motive?”

  “I called her to come and get her decorations if you must know. I didn’t want them to get mixed up with our things and potentially lost.”

  “She doesn’t like me.”

  “Perhaps you should try being a little more likable.”

  His skin prickled. “You’re putting this on me? The woman has never had a good thing to say about me or any of my decorations. Nothing is ever good enough for her.”

  “Maybe she’s lonely. Or she’s worried about us since the murder was so close to our family.”

  “Or she wants all the dirt. We’re the ones most likely to know what’s going on since the police won’t leave us alone.”

  “Did the detective show up at your work, too?”

  Brad gave her a double-take. “She showed up at the salon?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “Same thing we’ve been saying. If she’s waiting for us to change our story, she’ll be waiting a while. What did she ask you?”

  “Nothing new. That woman just wants to get under our skin.”

  “Or she wants to solve the case,” Faye said on her way to the table. “As much as she may want us to be guilty, it doesn’t matter. We didn’t do anything. Right?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  She put her roast on the table and held his gaze. “If neither of us committed the murder, we don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Not that. You said ‘right.’ You don’t believe me?”

  “That isn’t what I said.”

  “What did you mean by right?”