The Dead Girl's Stilettos

by Quinn Avery

  Cineste’s eyes closed. Her head bobbed.

  “Hey, stay with me, sweet girl,” Bexley pleaded, lightly shaking her sister.

  Her eyes flipped back open. “Bexley, my Bexley!” She flung her arms around her big sister as if surprised to see her. “I’m so happy you’re here!” A moment later, she slipped back into unconsciousness.

  Holding her upright, Bexley glanced over her sister’s shoulder to where J.J. watched on. “Do we take her to the hospital?”

  The old man shrugged. “At the very least, she’s gonna need treatment.”

  “That’s it, I’m calling Grayson.” But she hadn’t even pulled her phone from her pocket when she heard the deep roll of his voice calling her name. She spun around to face him with her heart in her throat, tears burning behind her eyes. Although still in the suit coat and tie he’d worn that morning, he may as well have been in spandex and a red cape. He had become her hero in every way imaginable. “What are you doing here?”

  “Officer Danks called me, said there was a situation. I came as fast as I could.” He crouched down at her side, and pushed his fingers into Cineste’s neck. “Her pulse is steady. Do you want me to take her in or call an ambulance?”

  Bexley clutched his forearm with a surge of panic. “I don’t know how much of what she said is true, but I think whoever’s behind Willow’s murder is after Cineste. She kept mentioning someone named Alex…I think it might be the Commander’s son—the guy she ran off with. Maybe I’m wrong. Either way, she’s in serious danger.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to her,” Grayson promised, eyes hard. “I have solid contacts with one of the best rehab facilities in the country. They’re discreet—celebrities go there all the time. I won’t leave her side until she’s safely checked in.” He scooped her unconscious sister into his arms, and told Danks to get the door.

  Several hours later, as they waited to receive word back from the treatment facility in Minnesota, Bexley dozed off at Cineste’s side. Afraid someone from the club would learn her sister had been admitted to the hospital, she hadn’t left the room for anything. She stirred awake with the feeling of someone’s lips on her forehead.

  “You need some sleep,” Grayson whispered. “I’ll stay here with Cineste. Officer Danks will take you back to my place.”

  Bexley’s eyes met his. “It’s still early. I can’t leave her.”

  He lowered down until they were face to face. “Nothing will happen to her as long as she’s here. Even if someone were to sneak in past the guard posted outside this door, I’m not going to let anyone hurt her.” Then he leaned in, placing a tender kiss on her lips before drawing back. “You have my word, Bex.”

  He was right, of course. Nothing would happen to Cineste here. So she nodded, and let him pull her up to her feet. After a long, drawn-out hug, she left with Officer Danks.

  “I want to swing by my place quick and grab another change of clothes,” she told him as soon as they were out of the hospital’s parking ramp. She’d forever associate Grayson’s T-shirt she’d borrowed—which she'd turned around and tucked into her jeans—with the worst day of her sister’s life.

  The young officer’s eyes skipped across the road as he thought it over. “Yeah, okay.”

  They chatted about his childhood as Bexley directed him to the apartment complex. His parents had moved him from Virginia to Los Angeles as a kid; sure his sweet, youthful face would earn millions. But after appearing as an extra in a cop movie, he told them he wanted to serve and protect.

  “I’m glad guys like you have my back,” Bexley told him as he parked across the street. She opened her door. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  She hopped out of the car and started for the building. Just as she stuck her key into the outside door, the figure of a man materialized from the darkness. She let out a surprised shriek.

  “Hey, it’s me!” Dean hushed, waving his hands. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “A call would’ve been less jarring!” she snarled, holding a hand over her erratic heart.

  His eyes jumped between her and the door. “Can I come inside?”

  “That’s probably not a good idea. The police are following me.”

  “I have nothing to hide!” he snapped.

  “It has nothing to do with you.” Or at least she hoped. “Someone bombed my car after I left your house the other day.”

  “What? Were you hurt? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because quite frankly, I don’t know who I can trust these days.”

  Anger swallowed his expression. “You’ve got to be shitting me! You still think I could’ve killed Willow?”

  “Yes. I mean no. At least I don’t think so. I want to believe you’re telling me the truth, but the lies keep piling up. If nothing else, I think you’re covering for Shane.”

  His lips drew rigid. “I told you everything I know!”

  “Did you?” She pushed on his chest, shoving him back a few steps. It felt so satisfying that she did it again. “Are you going to pretend you didn’t know your boys’ club murders innocent girls for fun?”

  “You’ve become completely delusional! I would never stand back and let something like that happen if it were true! Why the hell would you think that?”

  “Because my sister told me!” she yelled back.

  “Your sister? I thought she was missing!”

  Exhaustion filled Bexley’s body in one massive swoop. She practically collapsed in Dean’s arms. “She was. They hurt her, Dean.”

  “Who hurt her? Where is she?”

  “She’s somewhere safe…we’re waiting for her to be accepted into a treatment program.”

  “Oh, Bexley.” Dean folded her all the way into his arms. “I’m so sorry. Let me take care of you and your sister. Tell me where they’re taking her, and I’ll set her up with everything she needs. I’ll make sure no one ever harms either of you again.” His lips pressed against her temple. “We’d make an excellent team. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”

  It felt nice to be comforted while given the highest compliment imaginable. But her mind wasn’t nearly as much of a wreck as her battered body, and she’d already set it on Grayson. She shrugged out of Dean’s embrace with unshed tears burning behind her eyes. “That’s not going to happen. I’m sorry.”

  With a defeated expression, he reached around behind him and handed her something heavy in a canvas bag. “At least accept this until you change your mind.”

  Once again, her heart sputtered. He had brought her a gun. She didn’t think she’d have the courage to pull the trigger on anyone. Was the damn thing even legal? “I don’t have a license.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I need you to be able to protect yourself.”

  She gently pushed the bag away. “I appreciate the offer, but it doesn’t feel right. Goodnight, Dean. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Bexley, please!”

  She ignored him, but felt the weight of his stare even after she was safely behind the locked door. She hoped Officer Danks had witnessed their exchange, and would pull him aside for questioning. She also hoped Dean wasn’t more clever than a newbie who was still a little green behind the ears.

  The moment she pushed on her apartment door, she sensed something amiss. She could feel a change in the air.

  “Hot Nancy Drew returns.”

  Pins and needles prickled her neck. With a shaking finger, she flipped the light switch. Shane stood in the center of the small kitchen, lips twisted in a sardonic manner. His hair was a mess, and his board shorts and T-shirt were wrinkled. Darkness stirred in his gaze. “Miss me?”

  Bexley wanted to scream for turning down Dean’s offer. If she had that gun, she wouldn’t feel so helpless. But what was Shane doing there? Had the two of them planned to ambush her together? How else did he know where to find her?

  She slipped her hand into her pocket, feeling comforted when her fingers grazed her cell phone. Shane wagged a finger.

&nb
sp; “Don’t even think about calling for help, you conniving bitch.”

  “I’d rather be called that than a murderous asshole.”

  “I. Didn’t. Kill. Her.” He stalked toward her. “What I did do was cut my surfing trip short when someone in my camp called to let me know a nosy little brunette had been sniffing around my place…they said a camera cable had even been cut at some point during her visit.”

  Bexley moved with him step-for-step, shuffling back until her shoulder blade collided with the freezer handle. Her bruised back shuddered with pain. “Yeah, well you should’ve stayed to catch another wave. I have enough dirt on you to put you away for life. You’re just lucky California threw out the death penalty, or you’d be crispier than Kentucky-fried.”

  His chest bumped into hers, sending a wave of pain rippling through her abdomen. “You think you can scare me?”

  She fought to keep her breaths steady, even though death seemed unavoidable. Jutting her chin, she stared him down with determination. “Maybe not, but I’m not someone you want to mess with.”

  “That’s funny. I was about to tell you the same thing.”

  His fist embedded in her hair. He attempted to throw her down. She cried out and grabbed everything within reach. Dishes that had been pulled from her cupboards shattered against the tiled floor. She caught herself on the countertop and twisted around. She cried out in pain and dug her blunt fingernails deep into his cheek. He howled and came at her again. She thrust the palm of her hand into his windpipe. He finally let go. She raced for her stun gun inside her handbag. He snagged her by the back of her shirt, throwing her across the room. She hit her nose against the countertop, and crumpled to the floor. Warm blood oozed down her face.

  “I won’t let you ruin my life!” he roared.

  Bexley felt around for her handbag, now conveniently at her side. The third time he rushed her, she was better prepared. The voltage of her trusted friend sent him to the floor just seconds before Officer Danks broke down the door.

  She could barely breathe through her nose as she greeted him. “Officer, I’d like to report a break in and an assault.” She held up her fingers. “I also snagged a little something to help with Detective River’s investigation.”

  21

  Two guards were stationed at Cineste’s side as they processed Bexley down at the station. Officer Danks had treated her bloodied, but not broken nose with a first aid kit as she’d refused to be seen by a doctor. Grayson lurked behind a lab tech as she carefully removed the evidence from beneath Bexley’s nails. He seemed conflicted between scolding her and patting her on the back for providing him with Shane’s DNA. Regardless, she was pleased with herself. She’d taken a crucial step toward finding Willow’s murderer by legally obtaining essential evidence.

  Once cleared to leave, Bexley was sure Grayson would turn away without saying another word. Instead, she gasped into his chest when he clutched her close. “Ever thought of applying to the academy?”

  She squeezed him back and laughed until she started to cry. “They wouldn’t let me through the front door.”

  “I would…in a heartbeat.” They parted, and he kissed her longer than any of their previous interactions.

  Bexley’s mind turned to goo. It more than fulfilled her teenage fantasies of making out with the swoon-worthy boy who helped her understand molecules and atoms. Her head was still in the clouds when he spoke again.

  “I’m personally taking you back to my place this time, and I’m not leaving until you fall asleep. Danks and two other officers will stay with your sister until I return. I don’t think it’s going to be safe for either of you to be alone until they’re all behind bars, but I’ll take care of her, get her where she needs to be.” His eyes narrowed. “No fighting me on this, Bex.”

  A long sigh fell from her lips. “Okay.”

  Bexley welcomed the rush of the chilled air against her face once they left in his open-top Bronco. The inside had been fully restored to its original condition, right down to the simple AM/FM tuner. It even had that new car smell.

  She’d survived Shane’s attack, Cineste was alive, and her hero was driving her home in his chariot. With the wind tossing his short hair and a sexy smile pulling at his mouth, she was able to see both the boy she’d fawned over, and the man who suddenly possessed her heart.

  Long before they pulled into the driveway of his one-bedroom bungalow, she fell asleep. Her thoughts drifted in and out as he carried her inside. She hadn’t believed in the concept of a literal hero until Grayson came back into her life. With all that had happened, the thought of losing him again terrified her.

  By the time he set her on his bed, she was wide awake and clinging to him. “Who was the woman outside Sandy’s? The one you hugged in the parking lot.”

  He set his forehead against hers and laughed a deep yet quiet laugh. “You mean Sandra? Her old man opened Sandy’s years ago after he thought she’d died. I rescued her during a prostitution sting. She was forced into it at an early age after being kidnapped. She’s still a little rough around the edges, but she’s getting there. Maybe the two of you could become friends one day…you could help her with the wardrobe thing. She never had a mom around. She could stand to have a solid role model like you in her life.”

  Relief swelled through Bexley, forming the hint of a smile against her lips. “So she’s not…I mean you’re not…”

  “She’s like a little sister to me, Bex. I’ve been a mentor to her the past several months. I’m not going to lie…she wants something more. I think she’s got a hero-complex.”

  Bexley ran her fingertips along the stubble on his jaw and whispered, “I know the feeling.”

  “Yeah?”

  She smiled and nodded. A wicked grin spread over his beautiful lips before his mouth crashed down on hers, and Bexley had a feeling all her teenage dreams were about to come true.

  Contentment spread through Bexley’s every crevice as she wiggled to life against the earthy scented sheets. Things were beginning to look up. Grayson had left her more satisfied than a hound dog with a rabbit before he took Cineste on a flight Minnesota-bound for her assessment at the treatment center. He’d called her early morning to let her know they’d accepted Cineste as a patient. Her little sister faced one of the biggest challenges of her life, but Bexley was confident Cineste had what it took to pull through.

  The lab had promised to deliver the proof she needed to nail Shane to the wall within 24-72 hours. The only crime left unsolved was the biggest of all, and undoubtedly the most perilous. If her sister’s heroin-induced rant was accurate, Commander Peachtree was the mastermind behind a vile game played by the filthy rich.

  She spent several hours on Grayson’s patio, drafting an article based on her notes while she waited for him to return. In the distance, the California landscape called to her deepest desires, reminding her of happier days spent with her mother and sister. She supposed it might not be the end of the world to give up the joys of New York in exchange for all SoCal had to offer—including Grayson. But did one blissful night have the power to change everything between them?

  Shortly after she made herself a sandwich for a late lunch, Grayson’s handsome mug appeared on her caller ID. She crossed her legs and smiled as she answered, “Are you planning to come home and sleep at some point?”

  “Alex Peachtree willingly came into the station for questioning.”

  Adrenaline brought her to her feet. “Is he there now?”

  “I said I wouldn’t start until you were here. You can sit in with me, but let me do the talking. Danks switched post outside my house early this morning with Officer Brock. I asked her to meet you at the front door. She’ll bring you in.”

  Grayson's doorbell rang before they ended the call. She snatched her handbag and hurried out to meet the tall, curvy woman wearing the same black uniform as Officer Danks. The woman greeted Bexley with a firm handshake and a friendly smile before they were en route to the station, siren blarin
g.

  Officer Brock escorted Bexley past a maze of cubicles bustling with more officers until they reached a quiet wing. Grayson and another man waited on the other side of a long surveillance mirror in a room containing a simple table and four chairs. The officer held the door open, and Bexley slipped inside.

  Grayson acknowledged her with a stern nod before he pulled out one of the two chairs across from the suspect. She would’ve much rather have hugged him for taking care of her sister, but she’d have time to thank him later.

  Her stomach swirled with unbridled energy as she lowered herself to the chair and studied the younger man. His polyester shirt stretched tight against his broad chest, and his arms were covered in naval tattoos. Clean cut and strikingly attractive, Bexley saw how Cineste may have been lured in from the start. With a shudder she realized he perfectly fit the description of the man Faith claimed to have seen hanging around Willow.

  “This is Cineste’s sister, Bexley,” Grayson said.

  Alex’s icy blue eyes locked on her. “Is she okay?”

  It took every last ounce of courage Bexley had not to leap over the table and demand answers. “We aren’t sure yet.”

  The kid rubbed at the back of his neck, sighing. “It’s my fault. I never should’ve started shit with my old man. She’s the only reason I’m ready to risk my life by turning him in.”

  Bexley’s blood ran cold. Was she supposed to find the act valiant? Was he trying to romanticize his relationship with her sister?

  Grayson settled in the seat beside her. “Start at the beginning.”

  “Back when I was in BUD/S school, me and a few of my buddies frequented a nightclub in downtown Papaya Springs on the weekends. I somehow got mixed in with this crowd of rich pricks. I grew up with old money on my mom’s side. It wasn’t my scene at first, but then they started sending hot chicks and free booze our way. A few months later, this one kid approaches me, asks if I want to be a part of this underground club. It sounded sketchy to me, but he said he’d give me a free taste so I could decide whether or not I wanted in.”