by D. B. Shayne
***
Jasmine hurried out of the club. Night was settling in. She took out her cell phone and dialled Aleesha’s number. There was no ringing on the other end, it went directly to voicemail. Jasmine thought she had a pretty good idea what her friend was up to or rather, who she was under. She made her way to her car and was about to unlock the driver’s side when she was thrown against the vehicle. Jasmine found herself looking into the angry eyes of a very familiar face.
“What the hell!”
“So this is what you really want Jasmine, high living? A plain old construction worker not good enough for you?” His voice reached a higher pitch with every word, his face distorted with malice.
“You damned well know that’s not why I broke up with you. Get the hell away from me Calvin!” Jasmine screamed. Calvin grabbed her by the throat. Jasmine’s heart was pounding so hard in her chest she feared it was going to split her ribs apart. She dropped her handbag, keys and cell phone and began to struggle against his hold, her hands clawing at his arm but the fingers around her neck clenched harder. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to breathe. She tried kicking at his shins but the actions only seemed to enrage him further. His eyes were menacing slits.
“Don’t lie to me bitch!”
“Hey, get away from her!” A shout came across the car park. A parking attendant ran towards them and Calvin released Jasmine’s neck.
“This isn’t over Jasmine Moore. The next time I see you will be the last time we meet.” Jasmine felt nauseated as blood seemed to drain from every artery of her body.
Calvin fled, weaving quickly between the luxury cars and disappearing into the darkness of the cool night.
“Miss are you okay?” Jasmine was gasping and massaging her neck.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. My god I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t see us.” The attendant’s face was tight with concern. He spotted her dropped items, stooped to pick them up and handed them to her.
“Thank you, thank you so much.”
“Let me take you inside, we need to call the police.”
“No, no I’m fine.”
“Did you see who attacked you?” Jasmine did not want to tell the man who probably saved her life a bold-faced lie.
“Please, I’ll be okay, really.” The attendant gave her a doubtful look. He walked away reluctantly, glancing back occasionally. Jasmine tried to steady her breathing. She was certain Calvin was going to crush her throat with his bare hands. The rage in his eyes was terrifying. How could he still be so angry? She couldn’t fathom it. Jasmine was a trembling wreck when she unlocked the car and got inside. She tossed her handbag onto the passenger seat and tried calling Aleesha again to no avail.
“Dammit,” Jasmine muttered. She tucked the phone into a section between the front seats and started the car. Jasmine sped out of the car park and broke every speed limit on the way to the offices of Durham Financial Times; desperately hoping that working on the feature of Terrence would aid in suppressing the images of the attack that kept branding her brain like a horror movie. A movie she prayed didn’t end with her wearing a grave stone.
Chapter 7
“Mr. Devereux, may I speak with you a moment please?” The attendant approached the tiger shifter as he was crossing the lobby. Kevin had finished his shift an hour earlier but was anxiously waiting for Mr. Devereux to come out from a club meeting. Terrence was carrying a small briefcase in one hand and his cell phone in the other.
“Kevin, what’s going on,” Terrence asked noticing the worried look on the man’s face.
“Sir, the lady that came to see you earlier, I saw a man attacking her in the carpark.”
“What?”
“I heard a scream and I rushed out to see what was happening, it looked like he was choking her sir,”
“Where is she?”
“She left, sir.”
“What do you mean she left?”
“I offered to call for help but she refused.”
“The man, did you see him, did you get a good look at his face?”
“No, by the time I reached her he was gone. But I did hear her call out his name, it was Calvin I believe.” Terrence teemed with rage when the name dropped from the attendant’s lips. Kevin took a small step back.
“D-do you want me to get security to review the footage Mr. Devereux?” Terrence’s face was as hard as stone.
“No, show me where they were.” Terrence walked stiffly out to the brightly lit carpark with Kevin in the lead.
“Here sir,” Patrick said when they reached where Jasmine’s car was parked. Terrence slowly and deeply inhaled. He immediately picked up the lion shifter’s scent, and Jasmine’s. The remnants of her fear and the lion’s fury, still lingered. Kevin looked at Terrence with restless eyes.
“Thank you for telling me Kevin. I will take care of this.” Terrence Devereux hastily made his way to his car.
I don’t know much about you Calvin but I do know you will never hurt Jasmine again. Ever.
Chapter 8
Her bedroom was in complete darkness as she sat on the bed cross-legged and weary to the bone. When Jasmine left Apesse Polo Club she’d headed directly to Fontabelle Street where Durham Financial Times was housed and pounded her laptop for about two and half hours. She’d desperately needed a distraction from her ordeal with Calvin. And in her attempts to be distracted, she found herself giving serious consideration to a life with Terrence, briefly suspending recall of her frightening experience earlier that night. She barely knew Terrence but the pull between them was incredible- he seemed to occupy every possible space in her life, invading her thoughts, dreams, she swore even when she breathed the air was filled with his spirit. The truth was, she believed every word when he promised he would love her, take care of her always, the fact that it was happening to her made it seem like a fairy tale. Jasmine had popped into the bookstore around the corner earlier that day and picked up the book Aleesha had recommended. She immersed herself in the words between the book’s covers, imagining how her world would take shape if she became Terrence’s mate. The mating ceremony was of particular interest, it gave her a nervous thrill. But passion could not be the only glue to a union and building her career on her own was essential to her. Jasmine got off the bed and paced the room for a short while, already knowing her answer to Terrence’s proposal. Jasmine went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of fruit juice from the fridge, entered the living room, dropped onto the sofa and switched the television on to the news. She uncapped the beverage and took a few swallows and nearly choked when she saw the headlines. A picture of Calvin popped up on the screen.
“Oh my god,” Jasmine whispered, sitting forward. The news anchor reported that Calvin Simmons’ body was found in a wooded area an hour ago. Initial reports indicated that his throat was slashed and there was speculation that his wounds appeared to be inflicted by a wild animal. Jasmine felt a measure of sadness for Calvin, even though he put her through a scary experience. For a wild, brief moment Jasmine wondered if Terrence was the guilty party but he had no motive because she hadn’t divulged Calvin’s identity to the attendant at the polo club. Then Jasmine’s mind went crazy wondering if the attendant who helped her would think she murdered Calvin for what he did to her. Then she received another shock.
“Mr. Simmons was arrested and charged for assault in the country of Vuemont in December and was sentenced to six months in a Vuemont Correctional facility…”
Jasmine’s eyes grew large as the reason for Calvin’s hiatus in his harassment of her became evident. She stood and set the juice on the coffee table, and paced the room until she felt dizzy and her feet began to ache and throb. She eventually returned to her bedroom and dropped onto the bed, landing on her back, and stared at the roof in a daze until she fell asleep from exhaustion.
Chapter 9
As Jasmine walked through the open door of Annie Johnson’s office, the weariness she was feeling down to her bone m
arrow became amplified. She’d barely slept and just wanted to crash out for a week uninterrupted. The editor’s face was a lighthouse at Jasmine’s appearance and she rose from her chair. She waved her hands dramatically.
“It’s in the bag for you Ms. Moore. I read the draft you emailed me last night and I don’t’ have to wait to see the rest to know you will have the glowing recommendation you rightly deserve.” Jasmine somehow managed a smile that she didn’t think would be physically possible given the night she’d had.
“Thank you so much Ms. Johnson, this means so much to me.”
“You have a great future ahead of you and I’m not just saying that Jasmine. I believe it-I know it.” Anne extended a hand which Jasmine shook woodenly.
“I’m glad you feel that way and thank you so much for giving me an opportunity to work here.” Annie examined Jasmine’s facial expression.
“I thought you would be jumping up and down Jasmine Moore, what’s wrong with you. Is something troubling you?” You have some weighty bags under those brown eyes of yours.
“I’ll be fine,” Jasmine said.
“I must say, Terrence didn’t go wrong choosing you.” Anne’s face went still as the words left her lips.
“Excuse me?” Jasmine asked in surprise. She could tell by the editor’s demeanour that the words she just uttered were not meant to be spoken, at least not to her.
“Terrence Devereux specifically requested me for the interview?”
“Yes, yes he did Jasmine. He said he would only consent to the interview if you were the one conducting it.” Jasmine stared at Anne.
“I see.”
“I’m sorry for not telling you but he asked me not to disclose that information. I’m sure you understand.” Annie Johnson’s face sported a sheepish grin which became replaced by a slight frown when she noticed Jasmine tense body posture. She wondered why the spilled secret would cause Jasmine to react so strongly; if anything, she believed Jasmine would have been immensely flattered.
“Are you sure everything is okay, am I missing something here Jasmine?”
“I have to go. Look I’m not upset with you for keeping that information from me, believe me when I tell you, it’s not you,” Jasmine assured her boss.
“I’m meeting Terrence in a little while and I don’t want to be late. I’ll send you the final notes as soon as we’re done.” Jasmine hurried out of the office leaving the editor concerned and anxious, especially at the fact that Jasmine referred to Mr. Devereux by his Christian name. When she reached her station, Jasmine snatched her bag off the desk. She turned around abruptly and almost knocked over a woman with dark brown hair pulled into a tight knot at the nape of her neck. She was holding a black leather case in her right hand.
“I’m so sorry,” Jasmine apologized, assessing the woman’s dark pants and jacket with white shirt; and secretly envying her flawless skin which was the colour of milk chocolate.
“Are you Jasmine Moore?” The question was issued from lips pulled into a tight line.
“Yes I am, can I help you?”
“Maybe. I’m agent Dana Teslyk with the Department of Paranormal Crimes and I’d like to ask you a few questions about the murder of Calvin Simmons.” Jasmine’s heart jammed up against her ribs.
“Am I a suspect?” Ms. Teslyk’s expression remained unchanged.
“Everyone linked to him is, until I catch the murderer.” The agent surveyed the hive of activity of Durham Financial Times’ sprawling office.
“Is there somewhere I can speak to you in private?”
“Uhm, yes, follow me.” Jasmine headed for a recently vacated office at the end of the corridor. She opened the door and entered the room on shaky legs. Agent Teslyk closed the door behind them and the charged hum of people’s chatter, ringing phones and tapping on keyboards diminished significantly. She pulled out a file from the black case and spread it on the desk. Jasmine looked down and saw three photos stapled onto a plain sheet of paper. One was a clear head shot of Calvin Simmons.
“You know this man?” Teslyk asked tapping the picture of Mr. Simmons with a finger.
“Y-yes. We went out a few times,” Jasmine confirmed.
“He’s your ex-boyfriend?”
“No, it didn’t get that far. He was too possessive so I broke it off.”
“Where were you last night between the hours of eight and ten?”
“Here, at work.” The agent woman looked Jasmine straight in the eye.
“Alright, I will verify that with your boss and colleagues. So, assuming you were here at work, were you angry enough at Mr. Simmons to have someone kill him for you?” Jasmine’s eyes widened.
“Of course not. And when I ended things with him I was a bit scared of him but not mad.”
“Fear makes people do unusual things.”
“I did not kill him,” Jasmine reiterated in a high pitched tone. Teslyk picked up the other photo and handed it to Jasmine who took it from the woman’s hands as if it were a bomb about to go off.
“Does this person look familiar to you?” Jasmine perused the print. A tall man stood at the corner of what looked like a souvenir shop, turned to a side, talking on a cell phone. He was wearing a long dark coat and pants. It was very difficult to discern the man’s features because he was standing sideways, the phone was against his ear and the upturned collar of his jacket helped masked the side of his face. One could tell that he had white hair, possibly curly. A street sign marked Tudor Avenue stood a few feet away. Jasmine shook her head and handed the picture back. Tudor Avenue was less than a mile away from Calvin’s neighbourhood.
“Is that a no?”
“No, he does not look familiar,” Jasmine stated with a hint of annoyance. Teslyk fished another picture from the folder.
“This is a zoomed picture of a tattoo on the man’s wrist. Have you seen it before?” Jasmine pulled it from the agent’s hands, sighing. The tattoo, a tiger’s head with two crossed swords, was quite visible as the jacket cuff had shifted downward from holding the cell phone. Jasmine pointed to the mystery man.
“Do you suspect he may be the killer?” Teslyk’s cell phone began to go off and she pulled it from her pants pocket after the second ring. Jasmine weighed her lack of response.
“Agent Teslyk here,” she said walking off to a corner of the room and speaking in hushed tones. Jasmine sighed impatiently and looked at the folder. There was a print out of several security camera stills next to the pictures of the unknown man and Calvin. Her eyes narrowed as she thought she saw a familiar face. Jasmine gave Teslyk a cautious glance before edging closer to the desk. And she wished she hadn’t. The still also featured the street sign Tudor Avenue but the familiar person was several yards away on the opposite side of the street getting out of a car. Jasmine’s heart raced and her stomach felt uneasy; she backed away from the desk. Teslyk was walking back towards her.
“Do you have any more questions for me?” Jasmine asked sharply.
“No, we’re done here. Thank you for your time,” she answered brusquely. Jasmine released a long breath as the woman exited the office. Her head started to pound with a million questions but she quickly came to a conclusion about what happened to Calvin. It seemed agent Teslyk was oblivious to the fact that the killer may be staring her right in the face.
Chapter 10
Jasmine marched towards Waterfront Bistro, her posture rigid with anger. Waterfront Bistro was nestled by a careenage in the heart of Durham City. Jasmine was on a wrap up mission, just a few more questions for Terrence Devereux and then leave. No lingering and no small talk. She had only to see him once more and that was to personally deliver the print copy of the journal as per the agreement for him doing the interview. She chose a spot on the sidewalk at the corner of the building. The table sported a brightly coloured umbrella and a potted fern was tucked near the wall. Jasmine sat and deposited her bag on the chair next to her. Usually, the sight of the fishing boats and pleasure craft traversing the deep blue waters n
earby provided a calming effect- but not today. She was pleased that the waiter who appeared at her side, was one with whom she was quite familiar and shared endless little chats with.
“Ms. Moore, always a pleasure to see you.” Jasmine managed a faint smile.
“For the hundredth time, Alan, please call me Jasmine.” Alan smiled down at her.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Alan, I’d like-”
“An espresso, because you’re having a rough day,” the waiter finished.
“You always seem to know my mood and what I want. How do you do that?” The waiter smiled. He was a tall, quite hunky, attractive man with a mop of black hair and he wore glasses.
“I pay attention to my customer’s needs. You always order espresso when things are a bit rocky otherwise you order cappuccino. A latte means a hectic schedule is imminent. ”
“You’re so good at paying attention to detail, it’s almost scary.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. I’ll be right back miss-Jasmine.” Alan headed back inside. Jasmine watched the waiter as he walked away. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but she always felt Alan was more than he appeared to be. He seemed to be constantly tuned into what was going on around him, he always walked with his shoulders straight and the way he spoke implied a level of education not in keeping with waiting tables.
Alan appeared a few minutes with her espresso and quickly moved onto dispatching other patrons. Jasmine did not have to wait long for Terrence to appear; a limousine pulled up across the street and Terrence unfolded his powerful frame from the sleek black vehicle. He was wearing a grey suit with a purple shirt and dark tie. Many eyes swung his way but Terrence was solely focused on Jasmine as he crossed the street and approached the table. He slid smoothly into the chair opposite her. Jasmine had been on his mind the entire night, he’d barely slept.
