by Laina Turner
“What’s going on?”
I could tell now he was worried. “I just walked in to the store, and it’s been trashed. Worse than the way your folks left it.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there. Don’t stay in the store, go outside and wait for me.”
“Why? I won’t touch anything.”
“Just do it. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
Willie arrived ten minutes later to find me sitting on my sweater in front of the store, sipping my coffee and watching traffic go by. It was a nice morning, and I had grown tired of standing. I had worn jean trousers and a sweater twin set, so I was perfectly content people watching. He rushed up to me.
“Are you okay?” He looked so concerned, it made me melt.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Getting tired of having to clean up the store, but what can I do?” I smiled, and he smiled back. “Maybe hit James up for a raise.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re all right. Now stay here while I check the place out.”
“Why can’t I come with you?” I said, standing up.
“Because someone might still be in there”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” Now it made more sense that he had wanted me to stay outside, and I grew a little weak in the knees thinking that I might have been in the store with the person who ransacked the place. I sat back down to wait as he went into the boutique, gun drawn.
He came back a few minutes later. “No one’s in there, and you’re right, the place is trashed. I’m sorry to say the back room is, too. The crime tech guys should be here any minute. I need to ask you a couple of questions and get an inventory list so we can see if anything has been stolen, but then you can leave.”
“I assume I will have to wait for the crime tech guys to get done again before we can try to open?”
“You got it. Now what can you tell me about this?”
“Not much. I unlocked the door and walked in and saw the mess and called you. Not much to tell, do you think this is related, you know, to Solange’s murder?”
“Hard to tell for sure, but I would say yes. Up until this week you haven’t had any trouble, at least from what you know and have told me. It would be quite a coincidence for these to be two unrelated incidences.”
“True.”
The crime tech van pulled up behind Willie’s car.
“Hi, guys.” I waved, nothing like being on a first name basis with the police department. This was sure to come in handy someday. “Are you done with me?” I asked Willie.
“For now.”
Great, now I once again had time to kill. I decided on hitting the thrift stores I was used to frequenting with Solange. It would not only be a good idea for the store—we were running low on vintage— but a fun way to spend a few hours.
I stopped at Starbucks and grabbed another latte—such a bad and expensive habit I had—and then walked down North Street to a resale shop that was one of Solange’s favorites. Since we would soon be going into fall, I looked for denim. The previous year Solange had found some great Seventies flares and vests with embellishments. They sold within a week at a 500 percent markup, all because she had put them with new merchandise that created a look our clients had to have. I hoped maybe I would be that lucky and happen across some great vintage find.
After about twenty minutes of looking through racks, I gave up that notion, at this store anyways. That was the frustration of looking for vintage pieces. You often had to spend hours looking to come across that one great piece. I had a lot less patience than Solange had. I hit up a few more stores with no luck, so decided to grab a Caesar salad from my favorite deli. Enjoying my salad while reading a book, using the Kindle app on my iPhone, was a nice change of pace from being at Silk. It brought me back to wondering why someone had trashed the boutique so soon after Solange’s murder and made me think someone was looking for something. Was that what had happened the night Solange died? She was in the wrong place at the wrong time? What could anyone possibly want at Silk? We sold things that people didn’t need. Nothing in the store was worth killing someone over. Or was it?
I had plans to meet up with Anna and Jared for dinner and a few drinks. I was more than ready for a couple of cocktails. The last few days’ excitement was starting to catch up with me, and I needed to talk to my friends. I also wanted to show off Willie, as he had agreed to meet us there. Not only was he cute, but he was also a cop and a fun blend of playful and serious. Since our dinner date, we had talked on the phone a few times, outside of crime related issues, and had been texting. I felt if nothing else, we could be good friends. Oh, who was I kidding? I would love to date him. I was anxious for him to meet my friends, because if we were going to have some kind of relationship, he had to get along with my peeps.
My friends had been after me to date when Cooper and I decided to call it quits, but I just hadn’t been in the mood. Willie was the first person I thought might actually make me want to give a relationship another go. I knew Jared and Anna would like him and hoped he would have fun with us.
I had already arrived at Muldoon’s, our favorite hangout because of its low priced martinis and fifty cent Guinness Wednesdays. That night wasn’t Wednesday, so I went with my normal raspberry martini. It was sweet enough to take the alcohol edge off, but not so sweet it makes you sick. I ordered chips and salsa for all of us to snack on, and sat back to people watch while I waited for everyone else to show up.
After airports, bars were the best place to people watch, and it was an environment where you could do so without seeming obvious about it. I wished I were a fly on the wall next to the couple that seemed to be arguing a few tables away. I loved to pretend I knew what strangers were talking about, making up imaginary scenarios and assumptions. That’s why I felt I would be a good writer. I had a vivid imagination even as an adult, and surely I could channel that imagination and use it for good, or at the very least someone’s entertainment.
I was scanning the crowd for someone else to watch and make assumptions about, when a strong arm reached around my shoulders and hugged me. I looked up at Jared, my best friend next to Anna, and smiled. He was such a great guy. Blond, good looking, totally into fashion, and gay. The best friend a girl could have, eye candy who could help me pick out the perfect outfit. I had met him here at Muldoon’s one night, while I was employed by corporate America, and some co-workers and I came in after work to unwind. I had thought he was cute and had just enough cocktails to shamelessly start flirting with him across the room. He flirted back for a while, and just when I was about to walk across the room, introduce myself, and ask him out because I was just inebriated enough to be that courageous, he came over to me and said while he appreciated a pretty girl hitting on him, he was gay so not to waste my time. Once I got over my sheer mortification that he had noticed my interest, and that I was so off the mark as to his sexual orientation, we became fast friends. I loved how he would just say what was on his mind with no fear.
“How’s my girl?” he said kissing me on the side of the head.
“Great! Well, except that my boss was murdered and my only source of income is closed right now.”
“See, that’s why you need to sit down and finish one of your books. Sell it and become rich. Then take all your friends with you as a freeloading entourage.”
“If I ever start one, I will be sure to try and finish it,” I said dryly. This was a constant source of annoyance for me. Jared was always pushing me, as a good friend should I supposed, but I felt like a big loser when I wasn’t able to do what I so wanted to do, because of my stupid mental block.
“What do you mean? You’ve started a lot of books I thought.”
“Not since eighth grade, and they’re all about horses.”
“So go after the young adult market. Tweens is where it’s at these days, the largest market segment of disposable income.”
Jared made it seem so easy. “You have an answer for everything don’t you?”
He shrugged, “Pretty
much. That’s how I roll.”
I couldn’t help but smile. He was one of my best cheerleaders. “Enough talk about my non-writing, let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay, how about your love life?”
I groaned. This was even a worse topic to discuss, but at least tonight I had a little progress that would get Jared and Anna off my back for a while. “You will be happy to know I have something to report in that area, and you will meet him tonight.”
“What! Shut the front door, Presley got a man.”
“Stop. He’s not my man; he’s a friend.”
“With the potential to turn into more?”
“Maybe. Right now we need to be just friends. He is the detective investigating Solange’s death.”
“How did that happen?”
“What—how’d she die?”
“No, you already told me that. How did you get so friendly with the cop? And why didn’t you mention this at coffee this morning? Why am I just now finding out?”
“We just sort of hit it off. I thought…” I stopped talking because I saw Willie walk through the door, and oh my gosh, he was hot. He did not look like Detective Landon, in fact he looked nothing like a cop. If I had to guess, I would think he was an artist of some sort by the way he looked. Black skinny jeans that hugged his frame, long sleeved shirt also black, with the sleeves pushed up just a bit so you could see his tattoos sticking out, black leather vest unbuttoned, and accessorized with a black belt and a black hat. On most people I would think the black hat was over the top, but on him it worked.
“Presley, tell me.”
“Shhhhh. He’s right over there. I don’t want him to hear me talking about him.”
“Where?” Jared followed my line of vision.
“Don’t stare,” I hissed.
“Like anyone would notice. But really, Pres, I don’t see anyone.”
“He’s walking right to us, all in black.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Him?”
“What? He’s cute,” I said defensively. I couldn’t see how Jared wouldn’t like him. I thought both he and Anna would think Willie was good looking. I didn’t care what they thought because he was hot.
“Cute? He’s more than cute. He’s smokin.’ But Presley, he’s not what I would call your normal type. He’s—”
“Be quiet,” I elbowed him in the ribs as Willie arrived at the table.
Willie reached over and hugged me. “Hey, Presley, you look nice. This place isn’t as busy as I thought it would be.”
“It usually fills up about eight, so we have a half hour or so before it gets super packed. Willie, this is one of my best friends, Jared. Jared meet Willie.”
Jared stuck out his hand and looked Willie over. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“So, you don’t look like any cop I’ve ever seen.”
“You don’t look like any felons I’ve arrested.”
“I’ve never been arrested,” Jared said indignantly.
“Oh. Well, you said I didn’t look like any cops you had seen so I assumed you’d been in trouble with the law.”
I liked this. Willie was already able to banter with Jared, and I knew Jared would be impressed.
“Well, the cops I do know definitely don’t look like you.”
As the guys were chatting, Anna walked up behind me and whispered “That him?” in my ear while setting her purse on the table.
“Yes,” I whispered back.
“Cute. Good choice for your next boyfriend.”
“I told you he’s not going to be my boyfriend.” But even as I said the words, I was kind of wondering what might become of this.
“Hey, Jared, can you stop harassing Willie long enough for him to meet Anna?”
“I’m not harassing him. I mean, if he can’t handle a few simple questions, he must not be a very good cop.” Jared was smiling as he said this, and I could tell from Willie’s expression he didn’t mind the good-natured teasing.
“Anna, meet Willie. Willie, this is my other best friend Anna.”
“Nice to meet you, Anna”
“Same here.”
“Hey Willie,” I said.
“Yeah, Pres?”
“Look over there.” I pointed across the room to the back right corner where a group of men were sitting.
“Where? Oh, that’s interesting.” His eyes locked on what I was pointing out. The German man who had come into the store demanding a necklace the previous night was sitting at Muldoon’s drinking a beer. Kind of strange to see him at the same bar we were all at since I had never seen him before, though I guess I didn’t have a monopoly on the bar, and just because I hadn’t seen him didn’t mean he hadn’t been here.
“Willie, do you think this is just a coincidence?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe he lives in the area. He has a right to be wherever he wants.”
“I know, but I’ve never seen him here before. Have you guys?” I asked Jared and Anna.
“I haven’t, but I only pay attention to the regulars,” said Jared.
“Same here” Anna said.
“Should we go talk to him?” I asked.
“No. We don’t have any reason to, and we don’t want to look as if we’re harassing him,” Willie replied.
“Well, then drink up,” I said.
We spent the next couple hours just hanging out and having a good time. Willie hit it off well with Jared and Anna, which was great. He fit in like he had been part of the group for a long time. At about eleven, we decided that since most of us had to work the next day we should call it a night.
“Call me tomorrow, Presley,” Anna said.
Jared walked past me and whispered, “Good catch.”
“Stop!” I whispered back.
Chapter 8
So, how come you are single? You seem like a pretty decent guy, for a cop. Why hasn’t some nice girl snapped you up?” This was the question every girl wanted to know about a single guy she was interested in, one that didn’t appear to have any readily noticeable flaws. If there wasn’t something wrong with them, then why were they still single? After thirty, you thought about these things.
We had left the bar relatively early for a night out, but once we said our good-byes to Jared and Anna, we decided to go for coffee. Neither one of us was tired, and I think we both wanted to talk some more, at least I know I did. It had been hard to talk in the bar, plus we were with Anna and Jared, so the conversation was more basic and not so much on a personal nature. I wanted to get to know him better.
“I was snapped up for a long time. I just recently got out of a long-term relationship.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. How long were you together?”
“Almost three years.”
“That’s a long time. May I ask what happened?”
“We just seemed to be in different places in life. She was pushing to get married. I wanted to wait until we were both more settled in our careers and financially stable. It started a lot of arguments as you can imagine, and we just grew apart. We both felt like we were walking on eggshells, and it began to seem like a better idea to be apart than together. We still cared about each other; we just couldn’t seem to get along, and after awhile caring just isn’t enough.”
“That sucks. You had a lot of time invested. Do you not want to get married or just not yet? And feel free to stop me if I’m being too nosy.”
“Not at all, I don’t mind talking about it. I was married before.”
I must have looked startled because he quickly rushed on. “It was right out of high school. We thought we were in love, but we were infatuated kids. We broke up and divorced after five years. Even though now both of us can look back and realize we were just young and immature and not at all ready to handle being a grownup, I remember how painful the divorce was and don’t want to go through that again. I guess I just don’t need the actual marriage. You know, been there, done that.”
“I guess I
can see your side, but as a woman I can see hers, too. Most women want the romance, the white dress, the ceremony, and all. In any case, it’s a shame after all that time.”
“Yeah, it happens I guess. What about you, do you want the white dress and all it entails?”
“Of course I do, someday. I am a romantic, and I want to meet my Prince Charming and have him carry me away on my white horse.”
“Wow, you do want it all.”
“Of course, but seriously, I haven’t had a really long-term relationship in a while. I dated a guy for a year or so and caught him cheating on me. Then I was dating this guy named Cooper for a while. We had gone to high school together, and I re-met him during the whole Senator Daniels debacle, but he traveled so much, it became impossible to maintain a long-distance relationship. We really connected, and I really liked him. It just didn’t work, at least not right now. Pretty much the same situation as you and your ex. We were in two different places in life and location, and then the timing was just as bad. I think that makes it harder in some ways, don’t you? When you both care about each other, but things just aren’t working, and you can’t figure out how to make it work.”
“I agree. Emotions can be so complicated.”
“Switching subjects, why do you think someone broke into Silk?”
“There has to be something in there someone wanted, or thought was in there. When we checked the stock against the inventory list you printed out, there were only a couple of discrepancies, and it was a couple of shirts and a jacket.”
“Those are probably special orders that haven’t come in yet. They show in inventory once we get shipping confirmation.”
“Even if that’s not the case, I can’t see someone tearing apart the store over a few shirts. I know, I know, you carry high-end exclusive stuff, but still.
“You’re right. So, what do you think they were looking for?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Do you think that German guy is involved? Maybe he was harassing me for a reason?”
“Could be. You said he had never been in to the boutique before, and it seems a little odd that he would raise such a fuss … but then maybe he really wanted a necklace.”
