by Cate Remy
“What did you mean?” He viewed her with an unreadable stare.
“The service takes place in the evening. I don’t expect you to follow me around everywhere at all times. If you have other plans, or...other people you want to see in the evening, I’ll understand.” Other people he wanted to see? Oh no, that sounded too much like dating language. The way she said it made her sound nosy. “I mean if there are other people you want to spend time with.” Goodness. Why couldn’t she get her words and phrases to come out right?
“Don’t worry about my personal life,” he replied, dryly. “I can get the job done.”
She held up her hands in mock defense. “I’m just trying to be considerate.”
He looked away. “It came off a little harsh, didn’t it?”
“A little.”
“Sorry, Dahlia. I’m only trying to say you can trust me. I don’t want you to feel like I can’t protect you because I’m distracted by something else.”
Was there something else? Was that why he seemed distant one moment and present yet guarded the next?
“I don’t feel that way. It seems like I keep hitting a sore spot with you whenever I talk about things that don’t have to do with your job.”
“I like to stay focused. Since I’m going to this service as Dan Ringgold, I better read up on his books.”
She saw the traces of humor in his eyes and in a slightly upturned curve of his mouth. “Just make a joke and say that people mistake you for the author all the time.”
“I don’t plan on doing much talking.”
She walked with him to her office. “If I have to make up another name for you again, I don’t want to, either.”
Chapter Seven
The evening of the memorial service brought with it rain and cold skies. After Dahlia finished changing into a black long-sleeve dress, she reached in her closet for a wool coat and her umbrella. She got a text from Cy, saying he was on his way.
She checked her appearance. She pinned her hair into a low bun and did her makeup in neutral, conservative colors. She wanted to pay her respects to her friend and client, not draw attention to herself.
Her doorbell rang ten minutes later. Cy must have been just up the road when he texted. She belted her coat and took the umbrella in her hand as she went to answer the door.
He stood before her, clean-shaven and dressed in a black suit and dark tie. The suit looked like it was made from expensive fabric. It had a subtle sheen and was tailored to fit his broad shoulders and long legs. He always looked neat and professional, but tonight he took the clean-cut, polished look to a whole new level. “Nice suit.” She hoped her little compliment would make him too offended.
He looked down at himself as though he noticed what he was wearing for the first time. “Since I started my firm, I don’t wear these too often.”
That was a shame. For an instant, Dahlia wished they were going to a happier place together, all dressed up, instead of a sad occasion. “ I’m ready to go. Do you know where all Saints Victory Church is?”
“The big building off of Peachtree Road in Buckhead. I’ve passed it several times.”
“That’s the one.” She locked the door to her house and followed him to the car.
The drive was an uneventful and quiet one all the way Buckhead, Atlanta’s richest suburb. They got into traffic that went straight towards the church. The memorial service was going to be a crowded event.
Cy found a place to park in the church lot. As he put the car in park, Dahlia watched people fall into line to go into the church. Their dark coats and hats concealed their identities. She got out of the car and fell in step behind a couple. Cy walked close beside her, his arm brushing against her coat.
Inside the church, ushers waited with lists of attendee names in their hands. Dahlia gave one of them her name and Cy’s borrowed moniker, Dan Ringgold. She froze as a thought came to her. What if they asked to see ID? Then they’d know she gave them a false name.
“Here you both are.” The usher checked off the names she’d given him on the paper. “I’ll show you to your seats.”
He led her and Cy to one of the middle pews and had them take the seats on the end. Dahlia placed her umbrella under her feet and took off her coat. Up front, a large picture of Mary’s smiling face resided on a metal tripod. Sadness curled in her stomach as she looked at the picture that showed the deceased actress in a moment of happiness. Her hand flinched. Her purse spilled in her lap and she heard the clatter of her compact mirror as it hit the floor.
People in the pew turned at the noise. Embarrassed, she bent down to pick it up. Cy grabbed it first.
She gave him a grateful nod. “Guess it hit me all of a sudden. I remember when she went to have that picture taken.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” He dropped the compact mirror in her purse and then put his hand on top of hers.
A warm buzzing current went from her hand to her arm. For a moment, she looked in his face. He stared back before removing his hand.
A tap on her shoulder made her turn. Her movement caused Cy to look behind, too.
Keke stood over her, dressed in a form-fitting dress with matching jacket. A diamond brooch rested on her right lapel. “I thought that was you who came in the door.” She flicked her gaze to side. “I see you brought Shakespeare with you.”
Cy chose to look at her instead of responding. Keke’s smile hovered for a moment before she visibly realized he wasn’t going to play along with her little joke. She cleared her throat and sat down in the pew behind them. She leaned over close to Dahlia. “Mary and I filmed a chick flick last year. How did you know her?”
Dahlia’s stomach curled in on itself. She had to keep her answer as simple as possible. From what she learned last week from doing Keke’s hair and makeup on set, the actress liked to talk. A lot. Especially gossip. If word got out that she was at Mary’s house on the night Mary died, Keke would tell the whole world. The ongoing police investigation could be compromised and so could her growing career. Clients would be afraid to work with her because they thought she was bad luck. Dahlia whispered to Keke, “I also used to style Mary’s hair and do her makeup.”
That satisfied the actress. She nodded and began to open her mouth. Just then, a tall man dressed all in black approached the podium in front of the church.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to get started with the service. I’m Emmett Jones, Mary’s attorney and estate manager.”
Dahlia was glad for the interruption. She faced forward to listen to a singer come up to perform a hymn.
The service proceeded with various people getting up in front of the podium to speak. Some shared funny stories. Dahlia saw blurred movement from the corner of her eye. She twisted in her seat slightly to see a man in a black sweater and black pants get up from a pew. He walked like a caged animal, each step a deliberate press into the wooden floor. Her heart pounded as he skulked to the back of the church.
Cy touched her arm. “Dahlia.” He spoke very low and hushed. “Why are you staring at the back of the room?”
Her hands broke out into a cold sweat as she whirled to face him. She whispered, but her words felt like she was screaming. “I saw him.”
CY SCOUTED THE BACK of the church after hearing Dahlia whisper in fright that she saw someone. The door swung open and shut. Whoever left was now gone.
A woman up front at the podium told a story of how she and Mary first met. Cy edged closer to Dahlia while she was speaking. He brought his face close to her ear in order to whisper. “Who did you see?”
The glow of her skin from earlier completely disappeared. She put one hand over the other to hide it from shaking. “A man wearing a black sweater and pants. I think he’s the same one who was in Mary’s house. He just stepped out.”
“Shh,” A couple of people in the row motioned for them to be quiet. Dahlia clasped her hands and crossed her ankles.
Cy looked to the back of the church again
. If Dahlia thought she saw the masked man who was in Mary’s house here at the memorial service, then he needed to investigate. “Stay right here.” He got up to leave the sanctuary.
Once he pushed open the door to go out, he focused all of his senses. He did a sweeping gaze around the area. People who couldn’t get into the memorial service on time stood outside in the hall, watching the service on two mounted televisions. He looked around for a man in a black sweater and pants. The men he saw all had on suits or wore pants with dress shirts and ties. He did a casual walk around the area to see if he missed anyone in the crowd. He strolled along to the restrooms. There was a large trash bin and a sign outside the men’s room that read Cleaning Do Not Enter. The man Dahlia had to be gone from the church at this point.
He returned to the sanctuary and found his seat beside Dahlia. The service was wrapping up. The woman at the podium stepped down after receiving applause for her speech. The lawyer Emmett Jones returned to the front. He adjusted the microphone to his height. “Thank you all for coming and celebrating Mary’s life. Refreshments are in the lobby.”
As people stood to their feet, Dahlia moved in Cy’s direction. “Did you see him out there?”
She looked so tense. He hated what this was doing to her. He also hated that his answer wasn’t going to help her feel any better. “I didn’t see him.”
Her face fell. “He walked fast. He probably left already.”
“Who left?” Keke stuck her face in between them. In that moment, Cy came to understood the meaning of a term nosy. Did she have to take such an interest in them?
“We thought we saw someone we knew.” He was annoyed, although he tried to keep his answer polite.
“Who? I might know them, too.”
“A man in a black sweater and pants,” Dahlia provided. “He left a minute before the last speaker came up.”
“I saw him. That’s Trey Marsters, Mary’s ex-husband.”
Wasn’t he a potential suspect? Cy glanced at Dahlia. She traded looks with him. Without saying a word, he had a pretty good guess that she was thinking the same thing he did. “We’re going to head out.”
“Have a good night, Keke.” Dahlia waved at the actress as she turned sideways to get out of the pew and follow Cy.
He waited for her to catch up to him. Not wanting her to walk behind him or ahead into the growing crowd, he kept his hand on the small of her back and walked out of the church with her. She moved, stiff. He felt her tension beneath his hand, as though it were coiled tight in her back.
He remained watchful as they walked across the parking lot and to his car. He made sure she got in first before he went around to the driver’s side. Cy turned on the ignition and managed to get out as more people came into the parking lot and created traffic.
Dahlia stared at the rear view mirror. A yellow traffic light from above washed over her face. “I might be crazy, but I could have sworn that the guy in the church had the same height and walk as the man I saw in Mary’s house.”
“I believe you. I just wish we knew whether the police have him listed as a suspect.”
“You don’t think they do? They wanted me to come to the station so they could ask me if I knew him.”
“They could have been covering all their bases.”
She sighed. “Maybe they already ruled him out. I mean, there were police officers at the memorial service. If they suspected Mary’s ex-husband, it wouldn’t make sense for them to let him run around town.” She hugged her arms as if she were cold.
He wanted to comfort her without coming off as disingenuous. He also wanted to make her feel safe, something which he was doing a terrible job of at the moment. “If her ex was guilty, showing up for the memorial service wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do.”
“Maybe. I’m hoping I’m wrong.”
He drove her to her house. The night patrol was already there. He got out and walked her to the door.
She turned the key. “I keep thinking I shouldn’t have gone to the service since I’m in a witness safety program.”
“Mary was your client. You wanted to pay your respects.”
She pushed the door open. Before going in, she turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. Soft light from inside her house highlighted the tips of her hair. “Thanks for coming with me tonight, Dan.”
He went along with her humor. “Shouldn’t you be thanking Shakespeare?”
She laughed at Keke’s nickname for him. “You’re starting to get so many aliases I can’t keep track of them.”
He liked seeing her laugh and forget about her anxiety. The night air created a breeze. He smelled her creamy floral scent. They both remained standing in the doorway. Cy felt a pull towards her. He wanted to get closer.
Dumb idea.
He remained right where he was and took a deep breath of the cold night air, letting it jar his senses. “I’ll see you in the morning, Dahlia.”
“I know the drill. You get some rest, too, for a change.”
“Will do.” He got in the car, but didn’t leave until he made sure she was safely inside the house.
Chapter Eight
With the Iron Guard patrol car circling around her neighborhood outside, Dahlia managed to sleep during the night despite being alarmed earlier at the memorial service. Her alarm went off at six in the morning. After a few quick stretches, some morning carbs and a couple cups of tea, she was ready to head into work.
Cy showed up at her house at seven-thirty. He was freshly shaved and his hair looked slightly damp like he stepped out of the shower only a short while ago. “How are you feeling today?”
“Better than last night.” She was glad he asked. She eyed his hand on the steering wheel and had a brief memory of when he touched her hand to reassure her last night. A flutter of heat went up her spine when she thought of his hand on her back, too.
“What’s on your agenda for today?” he asked once they reached her office building.
“Three interviews and two video tutorials. The launch is in two weeks. The rest of this week, my team and I have to really work hard.”
“Knowing you, you’ll do just fine.” He shut off the ignition. “I’m not saying that to flatter you. You do work hard.”
“You can be sweet sometimes.”
He tilted his head and an angle. “Me and that term don’t go together.”
The way he said it made her chuckle. “I disagree. I know you have an image to uphold, though, so I won’t argue with you.”
He got out without saying another word. Dahlia wondered if she had said too much. Did he think she was flirting with him? Did she? She made an attempt to be friendly, yet he kept that guard up nearly all the time. Sometimes he let it down, but it was for a very short time.
She shook her head. I can’t worry about it. She had other things she needed to think about. If Cy could be all business, so could she.
She worked all day, clocking in for her last interview with an influential blogger at four-thirty that afternoon. Cy drove her to Jumpy Java where the interview took place. Along the way, she noticed the skies turned grey and a light rain began. She checked the forecast and saw that it called for freezing rain later that night.
The interview wrapped up at a quarter to six. She got up, planning to order another cup of coffee. Cy sat at the table across from her, blending in effectively with the other caffeinated patrons. “I’m getting one for the road. Want anything?”
“No thanks.” His phone rang. Dahlia saw him stiffen immediately and stare at the number on the screen. “This is weird.”
“Who is it?”
He regained movement in his body. “Sorry, I have to take this.” He hit the green button and put the phone to his ear. “Mom?”
Cy’s mother was calling? That was unexpected. Dahlia stepped away to give him privacy to speak. She could still hear him in the quiet surroundings.
“Jeff? Are you serious?” He put his hand to his forehead in exasperation. “Grounding
him is a great idea.” He ended the call and walk towards Dahlia with a sigh.
She debated whether to say anything. “It’s none of my business, but is everything good?”
“It’s my little brother Jeff. My mother called to tell me he’s grounded for two months because he got suspended from school for fighting.”
She remembered Cy’s little brother when he was in kindergarten. Now he was getting in trouble for fighting other kids in high school. Guess he wasn’t so little anymore. “Sorry to hear he got suspended.”
“Me, too. I’ll talk to him to get him straightened out.”
“You’re a tough older brother. Those are usually the best.”
That got him to smile. “You’re an only child. How would you know?”
She shrugged. “It’s what I hear.”
He put on his coat. “Guess we’d better make the drive to your house before it gets too late.”
“What about your brother?”
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow after he cools off, since he doesn’t have school in the morning.” His phone rang again. “It’s my mother. She’s really upset.”
“Go on. Take the call. I’m not in a hurry.”
He gave her a grateful smile before he answered. “Hey, Mom.”
Dahlia stepped aside again. There was something sweet about watching him talk to his mother. Just as she was about to take more steps away, she saw his entire expression change. His jaw clamped down hard.
“Mom, please listen to me. You need to stay in the house. Keep your phone by you along with the charger in case he calls. I’m on my way.” He put the phone in his coat pocket. “Dahlia, I need your help.”
She was surprised to see him this way. “What do you need me to do?”
“Jeff left the house while my mother was talking to me on the phone. She’s scared he’s trying to run away. Can you sit with her while I go look for him?”
“Absolutely. Has she called the police?”
“They can’t do anything until he’s missing for twenty-four hours. We’re not going to wait that long.” He shot past other people in the restaurant to hurry outside to his car.
