by Stacy-Deanne
STRIPPED
(Book 1 in the Stripped Series)
By
Stacy-Deanne
Copyright © 2017 Stacy-Deanne
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Readers: Thanks so much for choosing my book! I would be very appreciative if you would leave reviews when you are done. Much love!
Email: [email protected]
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Other titles by Stacy-Deanne Include:
Bruised Series
Tate Valley Sexy Suspense Series
The Seventh District
Dead Weight
You’re the One
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Author’s Note:
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER ONE
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Author’s Note:
The Stripped Series is a spinoff of the Bruised Series featuring Dee, Winston, Lisa, Connie, Grayson, and Jake. The Bruised Series focused on Jake and Lisa while the Stripped Series focuses on Dee and Winston.
If you haven’t read the Bruised Series and would like to check it out, the entire series is available now on all retailers.
Enjoy!
Other Books in the Stripped Series Now Available:
Captured (Book 2)
Damaged (Book 3)
Haunted (Book 4)
CHAPTER ONE
Baltimore Detective Dee Quarter threw her keys on the nesting table by her front door and headed into her ivory-tone living room, loving memories of her father filling her head.
“You okay?” Detective Winston Lewis stood in the living room doorway and slipped his hands into the pockets of his black blazer.
Usually one look in his fascinating, ocean-blue eyes took Dee’s worries away but not today.
She kicked off her black pumps and freed her long, wavy extensions from the bun.
“Honey, listen.” Winston sat on the foot stand by the leather recliner. “You’ll get through this.”
“Oh, I know I’ll get through it.” Dee released a distant chuckle, relying on sarcasm to escape the pain. “That’s what I do, remember?” She half-smiled. “I get through everything.”
“This is me you’re talking to.” Winston stroked his chin, the tiny sprigs of hair barely resembling a goatee, but Dee found it sexy. “You’re in pain and it’s okay to show that. It’s not a sign of weakness.”
“It wasn’t Dad’s time.” She laid her head back on the polyester couch and propped her feet on the cinnamon-brown table that matched her skin tone. “He was only fifty-nine. He had, so many years left.”
“The funeral was beautiful. That speech from Jake and Lisa was amazing.”
“I fucked up the eulogy.” She sighed. “Too choked up so things didn’t come out right.”
“It was beautiful because it came from your heart.”
“It’s funny. When my mom died I was fourteen, and I dealt with it. I dealt with it better than Dad did. So why at thirty-eight does it feel like I can’t handle this?”
“You can handle anything.” Winston moved to the couch and pulled her into his arms. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.” He kissed her cheek, giving Dee a welcomed chill. “Besides, you won’t have to do it alone. You have me, Lisa, and Jake.”
“But not the one person I should have.” She took her pearl studs out her ears. “How can Lydia not show up for her own dad’s funeral? She is so damn selfish.”
“At least she called—”
“Called?” She gaped at him. “Our father had a heart attack and died, Winston. If that doesn’t get her ass back to Baltimore then what will?”
“Today’s not the time for you to get upset about Lydia.”
“How can I not?” She flung her arm. “She’s on an archeology dig in Africa somewhere with her boyfriend, but she can’t come bury her damn dad? It’s no excuse.” She shook her head. “Daddy always let her off the hook but I’m not doing it this time. Her ass should’ve been here and no amount of phone calls makes this okay.”
“You’re right.” He scratched through his curly, toasted-brown hair. “But what good is it getting yourself more upset, hm?” He placed her feet into his lap and massaged her toes through her black stockings. “Lydia will have to deal with the guilt of this on her own. Don’t even worry about her.”
“But, I’ve always been there for her. After Momma died, I was the one who raised her. I became mother to an eight-year-old girl while being homemaker to my dad. I’ve given up so much for Lydia. I didn’t have a childhood so she could and she can’t come to the funeral?”
“Stop it.” Winston pressed his index finger to her lips. “Forget Lydia and concentrate on yourself. That’s the problem, Dee. You’re always the one holding things together and never deal with what you go through. Worry about yourself, okay?” He guided her head to his shoulder. “Let me handle the other shit.”
“Okay.” She sobbed. “I love you, Winston.”
He rubbed her cheek, chuckling. “I love you too.”
“What?” She lifted her head, sniffling. “What’s so funny?”
“Can’t believe it’s been a year since we got together.”
“Me either.” She managed a light smile. “Time flies doesn’t it?”
“I hope it slows down though.” He locked his firm lips on hers. “I want time to enjoy this ride.”
****
“Winston, I’m fine for the last time.” Dee got to her desk at the police station the next morning. “I’d prefer to be here working than at home wallowing.”
“Your father just died.” He sat on the edge of her desk, swinging his leg. “You need to grieve.”
“Don’t tell me what I need.” She hooked her purse on her chair and sat. “I’m more than capable of doing my job.” She turned on her computer. “Staying busy is how I cope.”
“It’s an excuse for you not to deal with things and that’s unhealthy.” He leaned toward her. “I’d rather you go home and deal with this.”
“How much wax do you have in your ears?” She folded her arms. “I’m fine. What about that don’t you get?”
“Excuse me for being worried.” He got off the desk. “I got a case to deal with, anyway.”
“Winston.” She stood and walked around the desk toward him. “I’m sorry, baby.” She
hugged him. “I don’t mean to be a bitch.”
He put his arm around her, snickering. “You mean an even bigger bitch than usual?”
“Hey.” She hit his chest. “Seriously, working will help me more than anything else.” She caught sight of the thin woman with straggly blonde hair coming their way. “Ah, shit.” Dee let go of Winston and walked back behind her desk. “This is the last thing I need.”
Winston covered his grin as Detective Connie Wilks joined them.
“Morning, Winston.” She straightened the badge on her tiny waist.
“Connie.” He stood aside so she could approach the desk.
“Dee.” Connie smiled. “How are you?”
Dee sat in her chair, staring at her black and white Clark Gable screen-saver. “I was better before you started talking to me.”
Connie cleared her throat. “Again, I’m so sorry for your loss. How was the funeral?”
“How do you think it was?” Dee glared at her.
“It’s no secret you don’t like me.” Connie flicked her ponytail to the back. “But I care how you’re doing.”
“Why do you care, Connie?” Dee leaned back. “So you can spread my personal business around the station?”
“No.”
Winston lowered his head, tapping his foot.
“I’m not always after gossip.” Connie fidgeted. “Even though we’ve had issues, this is a terrible time in your life and I wanna be there for you.”
“Girl.” Dee swept her hands over her face. “Ooh, Jesus. Connie, get the hell out my face.”
“Dee,” Winston said. “She’s trying to be nice.”
“No, she’s trying to be nosey.”
“Why do I bother?” Connie scowled. “You’re just as nasty as you ever was.”
“That’s right.” Dee stood, planting her hands on the desk. “I don’t need your fake sympathy or anything else from you. I can’t stand you and you can’t stand me and my father being dead won’t change that.” She plopped in the chair. “Now unless it’s something to do with work, go back to your desk.”
“You don’t want to see me, well that’s too bad.” Connie scoffed, leaning to one side. “Because we’ll be close as ever now.”
“What are you talking about?” Winston asked.
“Captain Salinger wants Dee and me to be partners.” Connie grabbed her waist with one hand.
Winston guffawed so loud officers around the room turned to watch. “Are you kidding?”
“Lying ass.” Dee shook her head. “Captain Salinger knows I hate you.”
“Well, it’s true.” Connie wiggled her neck, specks of brown shooting from her green eyes. “I just came out his office.”
“No way.” Dee sneered, not finding Connie’s claim funny. “I can barely tolerate you. How will I work with you on cases?”
Connie’s white face reddened. “It’s no walk in the park for me either, Dee.”
“This is insane.” Dee stretched. “I don’t need a partner. I’ve done fine since Lisa resigned.”
“Salinger thinks differently, and he’s the boss.”
“I don’t believe this.” Dee laid her head on the desk. “Kill me now.”
“You’re gonna kill each other before this is through.” Winston walked off, laughing.
Dee sat up. “Is this for real?”
“Go ask Salinger yourself if you don’t believe me.” Connie shrugged. “Speaking of Lisa, how’s she and Jake doing?”
Dee scoffed.
“I care. Come on, Dee.”
“Lisa’s doing okay,” Dee muttered not wanting to answer. “She moved in with Jake about a month ago.”
“Really?” Connie’s eyes lit up. “How is her health?”
“She’s healed physically from the shot but not sure about mentally.”
“I miss her.” Connie hooked her hands behind her back. “Place just seemed brighter when she was around. Is she really not coming back?”
Dee pinched the corner of a piece of paper. “She says so.”
“Bummer.” Connie sat on the desk. “Things seem to be going well between you and Winston. Can’t believe it’s been a year since you two got together. My, things change so fast, don’t they?”
“Get off my desk.”
Connie jumped off it.
“I’ll talk to Salinger about this partner issue because he’s lost his mind. Out of all the people here why would he put me with you?”
Connie turned to the side, winking. “Maybe he feels I’d be what you need.”
Dee rolled her eyes. “Like a bullet in the head.”
CHAPTER TWO
That evening, Dee and Connie arrived at 33-year-old Autumn Stuart’s house on Peachtree Drive ten minutes after getting the call. They got details from forensics and first responders and then met with the distraught woman sitting in the red chair on the porch.
“You’re Nelda North?” Dee asked in her softest tone. “The property manager?”
The 50-year-old nodded, a tear dissolving into her peach cheek.
“I’m Detective Dee Quarter. Homicide.” Dee showed her badge as Connie pointed to the one on her waist. “And this is Detective Connie Wilks.”
“Do we have this right?” Connie read off her notepad. “You came around six-thirty and found Autumn strangled to death in the living room.”
“Y...yes.” The grayish-black curls of Nelda’s shoulder-length bob gyrated in the spring breeze. “I’d been trying to contact her for a few days. No one had heard from her.” She lifted her head, displaying her soft, moss green eyes. “Autumn’s been a tenant for about eight months.”
“We sympathize but we need you to tell us anything you can about Autumn,” Dee said.
“She was a nice person.” Nelda stretched out her feet, wearing a denim skirt and white Keds. “She had a good sense of humor and could brighten your day with one joke.”
Dee jotted in her notebook. “Were you two friends?”
“Yes. We got close when I’d pick up the rent. She’d ask me in and we’d talk. I rarely spend much time with tenants because they’re not very nice when you’re getting on them to pay rent and stuff.”
Connie smiled.
“But, Autumn was the best tenant I could’ve asked for.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “Can’t find a bad thing to say about her.”
Two forensics officers walked out the front door as another one entered.
“Could you tell us where you were before six-thirty?” Dee wiggled her pencil.
“Am I a suspect?”
“This is procedure,” Connie said. “We need to rule you out if you’re innocent.”
“I am innocent.” Nelda shifted her shoulders back. “I couldn’t strangle Autumn. I’m only five-three, and she was five-eight. There’s no way I could’ve overpowered her. Why would I want to hurt her, anyway?”
“Like we said, this is procedure,” Dee said. “No one is accusing you of anything but you’re the only one who was here.”
“I was with my dad all day.” She rubbed her forehead, making it red. “He’s in a nursing home. I live alone and I’m not married.” She shrugged. “I’m lonely so I spend as much time with him as I can.”
“What nursing home?” Connie pushed blonde strands out her face.
“Pine Village on Ash Street.”
“How long has he been there?” Dee asked.
“Five years. He has Alzheimer’s. He won’t be here much longer so I treasure the time we spend together.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dee said, struggling to evade thoughts of her father. “I lost my dad a week ago. He had a heart attack and died in his sleep.”
“That’s horrible.” Nelda’s forehead crinkled. “My condolences.”
Dee nodded with tight lips. “Had the funeral yesterday.”
“You a daddy’s girl?” Nelda’s oversized, top lip covered the bottom one when she smiled. “I am.”
“What can you tell us about Autumn’s life?” Connie asked. “Did sh
e have friends and work?”
“She worked from home. She wrote freelance articles for money.” Nelda wiggled her feet. “She was dating a writer.” She squinted, snapping her fingers. “Now, I’m not a big reader but this guy is a local author. Famous. I think he writes mystery books.”
Dee’s breath caught in her throat. “Grayson Paul?”
“That’s him.” Nelda waved her finger. “He’s a little older than her I think.”
“He’s forty-seven.” Dee sighed, glaring at Connie. “So Autumn was dating Grayson?”
Nelda nodded. “Yes, and I think he was helping her get a book published.”
“I don’t believe this.” Dee lowered her notepad. “Am I ever gonna get that man out my life?”
“You know Grayson Paul personally?” Nelda asked.
Dee groaned. “We have history.”
“What about Autumn’s family?” Connie asked.
“She wasn’t from here and she didn’t speak about her family much. Mentioned a brother somewhere in Arkansas or something I think.”
“Once again we’re sorry you had to see her like that,” Dee said as she and Connie handed Nelda their cards. “Please call us if there is anything else we should know.”
“I will, Detective Quarter.” Nelda secured the cards in her hand. “Thanks.”
“My god,” Dee muttered to Connie as they walked off the porch. “Grayson Paul? Are you kidding me?”
They headed toward Dee’s white, Chevy Malibu.
“This case is gonna be mighty interesting.” Connie got into the passenger’s seat.
****
“It’s always so nice to see you, Dee.” Sylvia, Grayson’s loyal housekeeper, smiled from the front door.
“Hey, Sylvia.” Dee took off her shades, gesturing to the woman beside her. “This is Connie Wilks. She’s helping me on my latest case.”
“We’re partners.” Connie shifted her eyes toward Dee without turning her head and took Sylvia’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too. I guess you want to see Mr. Paul?”
“Not really ‘want’ to.” Dee hooked her shades on her blouse. “Need to discuss business with him. That’s all.”
