Vicious Justice

by Tobi Doyle

  Adrianna laughed. “Nah, his car in the driveway will send the required message.”

  Adrianna looped her arm through mine, and walked me through the front door.

  “Who is Mrs. Galvez?” I asked.

  “My neighbor who keeps trying to set me up.” Adrianna locked the door behind us, and then spoke in a heavy Spanish accent. “You’re not getting any younger, Adri.”

  “I had three children when I was your age.” Elena used the same accent.

  “She means well.” Adrianna took my hand and led me into the kitchen where I was bathed in a the scents of garlic and butter. She dropped her purse onto the counter.

  The table was set for three people, with a big bowl of spaghetti in the center, fresh sliced sourdough bread on a board, and a tossed salad set off to the side.

  “That looks delicious,” I said to Elena.

  “Thanks. What do you want to drink?”

  “Adrianna would like a glass of wine.” I rubbed her shoulder, hoping she would allow me to massage the tension out later.

  Elena stopped. “Adrianna, would you care for the red or white?”

  “Quit and sit, ‘Lena.” She waved at me. “You, too.” She looked in the refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle of Blue Moon beer, and a Guinness. “Want one? Or water, or milk?”

  “You don’t have wine?” I asked.

  Elena laughed. “It’s box wine. It’s awful and she’s embarrassed to admit it.”

  “It’s not awful.” Adrianna’s cheeks pinked with her declaration.

  “I’ll try the wine.” Was she embarrassed?

  “I’ll have the Moon, and tell me what happened.” Elena sat and reached for a piece of bread.

  Adrianna pulled out two juice glasses, and slid a box out of the pantry. She poured two wines, took the top off the beer, and brought them to the table.

  Adrianna sat next to me, and held up her glass. “Here’s to the end of a weird-ass day.”

  “Here-here.” Elena tapped her bottle against Adrianna’s glass.

  Adrianna passed me the spaghetti bowl. “My car windshield was broken, and then someone trashed the inside. I called Alyosha, and he helped me sort it out.”

  I held the bowl and waited until Adrianna served herself before taking some and passing it to Elena.

  “Has anything weird happened to you, ‘Lena?” Adrianna put a piece of bread on her plate, and passed me the plate.

  “Me? No.” Elena handed me the salad.

  “That’s good.”

  “Do you want Eric to replace the windshield?”

  Adrianna barked a laugh. “No. I’m done. I’m getting rid of the car.”

  “Finally.” Elena breathed out a huge sigh. “You promised to take the bus.” Her voice was tight, and worry clouded her eyes.

  “I know. I overslept this morning.” Adrianna twirled the spaghetti on her fork, but I sensed she was avoiding her sister’s all-too-knowing glance.

  “You can borrow the sedan.” I sipped the wine. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t great, either.

  Elena’s eyebrows shot up. “Does he have a brother?”

  “His brother’s name is Misha.” Adrianna’s hand slid down and squeezed my thigh before returning to the table. The action so quick, I didn’t think she realized she’d done it.

  Elena leaned forward. “And does your brother also drink box wine and lend luxury vehicles?” The smile she wore promised a challenge.

  “He prefers motorcycles.” I said in a careless way calculated to weigh her reaction.

  Elena waggled her eyebrows. “I could work with that.”

  “Yeah, because that wouldn’t be awkward.” Adrianna cringed.

  “Would you consider renting Adrianna’s room to him?” I asked Elena.

  Adrianna’s fork stilled, her jaw clenched, but she met her sister’s gaze.

  Worse, Elena shot her sister a look I recognized as both hurt and accusing.

  Fuck.

  “Why would I be renting your room, Adri-ahhnnna?”

  “You won’t be.” Adrianna put her hand on my arm. “Look, Alyosha is going to help me figure out the financial mess the probate has left us in so we can sell this house.” Her calm tone sounded reasonable.

  Elena sat back in her chair, slack-jawed, and eyeing her sister like she’d just channeled the devil himself.

  But Adrianna’s words surprised me, too. She valued getting rid of the house more than owning her own business. I hadn’t considered how much she hated the house before. I’d offered the wrong bargain. The house was small, but clean, and in an older neighborhood, but it would sell quickly.

  “When?” Elena asked.

  “I’ll have my lawyer begin investigating tomorrow.” I promised. Even if Adrianna didn’t want to get married, I could do this for her. But, the thought of her accepting my proposal kicked my heart rate into triple time. I kept my face neutral. Elena needed to believe Adrianna and I had talked this through.

  Elena bit her lip. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but Suzanne’s roommate just got engaged, and wants to move in with him. Suzanne’s looking for a roommate.”

  “Tell her you’ll take the room,” Adrianna said.

  “Are you sure?” Elena asked.

  “Absolutely. I’ve got this covered.” Adrianna’s eyes found mine, a look of hope mixed with concern.

  It’s covered, I said with my eyes. Did she have any idea I would do whatever she asked? I was so fucked.

  Elena sized me up like I was no better than Herndon. I appreciated her concern. However, I wasn’t sure what I could say that would alleviate her fears.

  Adrianna’s shoulders squared, and she shoveled spaghetti into her mouth. Her eyes never left her plate.

  “Did you call the cops about your car?” Elena asked around a mouthful of salad.

  Adrianna raised an eyebrow at Elena. “Yeah… no. I looked for cameras and I swear I’ve found the one place in San Francisco that isn’t covered by CCTV. I got stopped on the way home, though. Gave me a fix-it ticket.”

  “Jeez, what are the chances?” Elena shook her head, seeming to be baffled by her sister’s bad luck.

  “I know, right? Shoulda bought a lottery ticket, ‘cuz my luck can’t get any worse.” Adrianna pushed back from the table. “God, could we just have one week where nothing expensive happens?”

  Elena let out a gust of air, sounding like the offspring of a grunt and a sigh. “The collection agency called. We’re 120 days over for Mom’s hospital bill. I explained Mom was dead and he’d have to wait for probate. I gave him Dad’s executor’s work phone and cell phone, so maybe he can move this shit along.”

  “Who is your father’s executor?” I added more spaghetti to my plate.

  Adrianna’s face pinched and paled. “Lee Smith. He works at the bank. He’s the one who suggested I get the loan.”

  “He’s a—” Elena stabbed at her spaghetti.

  “Elena,” Adrianna’s voice warned. She caught my eyes. “He’s not been particularly helpful.”

  “Why did your father pick him?” I asked.

  “They played poker together for years. I guess they were friends.” Adrianna smiled at Elena. “Dinner was great. Thanks for making it.”

  “You ate like five bites. Don’t go anorexic on me.” Elena passed her a piece of bread.

  Adrianna took it. “I lost my appetite. God, I hate this place.” Her head lolled back on her shoulders, and she winced at the ceiling.

  I looked up and saw a light brown splatter on the ceiling. Blood, probably from a broken nose that sprayed, but it could have been arterial. It was faded, jaundiced, but based on her reaction, she was reliving the night that blood spilled. Fury burned in my gut that she had to endure this house, and returned for her mother.

  “We should probably paint this place.” Adrianna sounded far-off, and tired.

  “I know someone. Let me handle it.” I reached for her hand and squeezed. Please, let me do this for you.

  She blinked. “I�
��” She sighed, the sound mournful. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, please do that. Please.” Elena stood. “Adri, let the man help. For god’s sake, would you just let someone take care of you?”

  Adrianna’s face crumbled. “I’m sorry Elena. I never thought we’d be here this long. When can you move into Suzanne’s?”

  “I’ll text her tonight. You look exhausted.” Elena looked me up and down. Take care of her, her eyes said. “I’ll clean up. Just go relax.”

  “Thanks.” Adrianna dropped her head, and her shoulders slumped. Probate, Herndon, her car, this house with ugly memories, and yet she wasn’t broken. Her strength amazed me.

  I stood and pulled her close. “Let me help. Please.”

  “Why?

  I kissed the top of her head and answered with honesty. “Because I need to. Because I can’t leave you alone.”

  She hugged me, her face buried against my chest. “I’m so tired.”

  “Take me to your room, kotyonok. Everything will be better tomorrow, I promise.”

  She shook her head and huffed. “Just like a man to think a bed solves everything.”

  My thumb caressed her jaw. “It does when you need sleep, and maybe a massage.”

  Her eyes widened. “Massage?”

  “Your shoulders look like they’re going to crumble.”

  She pouted. “They could do with a rub.”

  My cock swelled. Her lower lip jutted out, and I wanted to bite it. Nip at it until she opened her mouth and let me in. But not tonight.

  Tonight I would show her that I could be the man she needed.

  The man who would take care of her.

  The man who could comfort her.

  The man she could rely on.

  Fuck, I had it bad.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I couldn’t complain Alyosha was a bed hog when he had more body than I had bed. And firmer. With interesting lumps. After my massage last night, I’d become pure putty, molded into a mess of mushy muscle.

  He’d stripped down to boxers and I peeked at tattoos, but then he turned the lights out and pulled me on top of him, making me his human blanket.

  I woke surrounded in his scent of spicy forest and warmth. My thigh rested on his morning wood. His impressive wood, which twitched when my lips kissed his chest.

  My lips acted on their own accord, because I certainly wasn’t the kind of woman… Yes. Yes, I was. I was the kind of woman that wanted the very sexy man under me to want me. His warm skin felt perfect, and comfortable, and like home.

  “Kotyonok, has Elena gone to school?”

  “Hmm?” I slid my hand over his smooth, hard, heated skin.

  He tilted his head, golden eyes examined me, lust-filled.

  Heat pooled low and I straddled him. My hands slid up, over his ink, tanned fingers against blacks and blues.

  “Has Elena gone to school?”

  I looked at my clock. “She leaves in an hour.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That is inconvenient.” His serious tone washed over me, causing a sensual shiver.

  But now fully awake and in my childhood bedroom the idea of having sex in this house caused my lady parts to cringe. Major bone-killer. Just for me, apparently, because Thor’s hammer kept seeking me out.

  I giggled and then laughed. My heart light at the ridiculousness of this situation. Sexy man on my tiny bed, taking up every inch of mattress. My more than generous curves snuggled into the best parts of him. I pushed up on his shoulders. My t-shirt clung to me, and his gaze flicked to my breasts. My nipples, hard and pebbled caught his attention.

  He closed his eyes and muttered in Russian. “You think this is funny to torture me?” His cock prodded my ass, as if to remind me he pictured the morning going differently.

  I leaned forward and kissed him quickly and hopped off the bed. “I’m not into torture.”

  He threw his forearm over his eyes. “Prove it and get dressed.”

  “Fine. I’ll make coffee, too.”

  He rolled onto his side, his golden eyes and mane making him look very regal and lion-like. “Marry me.”

  I wanted to say yes to sexy Thor, to Alyosha, to my guardian angel, but my common sense sealed my lips tight around that answer and instead chose to tease him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, wait until after you’ve had your coffee to make any rash proposals.”

  I turned and headed to the kitchen, not wanting to hear his reply.

  My clients kept me occupied through morning at the salon. We were discussing whether Colin Firth or Matthew McFadyen made a better Darcy. Then Morris pushed through the door. Today his grey slacks were paired with a pale yellow shirt and brown tie that looked like a log of poop floating in pee. Kendra’s eyebrows shot up and followed his progress to my station.

  My customer, Mrs. Reed, a retired third grade teacher, was describing her grandson’s latest win on the football field and gave him the wait-your-turn glare. With half her head covered in foil, the glare lost some impact.

  “Ms. DelToro.” He pulled out a badge and waved it for Mrs. Reed’s benefit.

  Mrs. Reed dialed back the daggers.

  “What?” I kept the fuck-off silent, also for Mrs. Reed’s benefit.

  “I need a few minutes of your time.” He sounded polite and professional, but still, my creep-o-meter was at a nine.

  I caught Mrs. Reed’s curious eyes in the mirror.

  “I’m busy. You can check with Haley, the receptionist, to schedule an appointment.” I wrapped and painted more of Mrs. Reed’s hair.

  “You can’t take a few minutes?” Morris asked.

  This guy was a detective? I continued to color and foil Mrs. Reed’s hair. “Detective?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I can’t stop in the middle and this process will take an hour. Now, if you’d like a few minutes of my time, you need to talk to Haley, our receptionist, and schedule it.” Was he behind the drugs planted in my car? A spike of fear morphed into anger. My skin felt stretched tight, and then I remembered, I had a lawyer. I jutted my chin at him. “Or better yet, call my lawyer.” Three simple words that felt like victory.

  “Why do you think you need a lawyer?” He ground the words out, but his nostrils flared and oh-shit flickered in his eyes.

  “Why do you think you can ask me questions without one present?” I turned my back to him, and swiveled Mrs. Reed’s chair so she no longer faced the mirror. Enough with the nosey peepers, already.

  “I have a few follow up questions regarding Gregory Herndon’s disappearance. It won’t take more than a minute and you to want to help, right?” Detective Morris moved to stand in front of me.

  I was almost done with the Mrs. Reed’s hair. Also Morris didn’t look intimidating anymore and he’d piqued my curiosity. I could give him a moment of my time and call Alyosha and the lawyer after. Besides, Mrs. Reed needed to sit for twenty minutes before I could rinse her hair, and that guaranteed I could get Morris off my back quickly. I put my color bowl down and wiped excess dye off Mrs. Reed’s forehead and her neck.

  “Can I get you anything, Mrs. Reed?”

  “No dear. I’ll be fine.” She looked at Detective Morris standing behind me. “Do you need a minute?”

  “Yes, thanks.” I smiled brightly.

  The detective followed me to the laundry room. I tossed my gloves and washed my hands in the sink.

  “Ms. DelToro, were you having a sexual relationship with Mr. Herndon?”

  “Eww.” Repulsion shuddered through me. I turned the faucet off and faced him. “No.”

  “Then explain this.” He thrust a photo toward me.

  My fingers clenched the glossy paper. It was me, dressed in hot pink boy shorts and matching bra, in my bedroom. My. Bedroom. The slats of the blinds could be seen at the top and bottom of the picture. The photographer had been outside my window. Watching. Me.

  I swallowed hard against a lump of bile. “Where did you get this?” My voice sounded shrill.

>   “That’s from Herndon’s computer. There are dozens. You two into role play or something?” Morris leered, losing all pretense of professionalism.

  “Call my lawyer, Abe Finowitz. I don’t know why Herndon had pictures of me. I never let the man touch me.” I pushed past him and ignored his following footsteps.

  “I’ll be seeing you soon, Ms. DelToro.” His insincere tone sparked my anger.

  I focused on breathing. One after the other. Calming the adrenaline that surged through my body, composing myself. Finish work. Panic later.

  Mrs. Reed talked about pastry recipes and celebrity weddings, and I loved her for not asking questions. Right before she left, she patted my arm. “I never trusted Herndon as DA. I heard rumors about him.” Her eyes held mine for a moment, sharing understanding, concern, even strength with me.

  I nodded, my joints feeling strangely loose. If she believed me, maybe others would, too. But then, she knew me. I was just a stylist, working at an upscale salon. The headlines would definitely read Stylist Seduces Missing DA.

  During my break, I hid in the bathroom and studied the photograph. It was taken at night, because my work clothes lay on my bed. Had Herndon followed me home? Where was he now? Dread, that familiar sensation started with my chest tightening. My body prepared for an attack, my breaths slowed, quiet, my body curled up, disappearing into nothingness.

  Was Herndon out there? Had he watched Alyosha hold me last night?

  “Adri? I gotta pee.” Michelle said from the other side of the door.

  I trembled, my back against the door, cold and frozen. “Sorry. Just a sec.” I washed my hands, studied my face, now pale and too wide-eyed. I practiced a smile, a normal smile that said everything was okay and opened the door.

  I smiled at Michelle and went to the front desk to welcome my next client.

  “Hey, everything okay?” Haley whispered.

  “Yeah. That guy was a jerk. He should have called ahead instead of just showing up, you know?” I gave her a tight smile and ushered my next client to my chair. Small talk filled my ears and subdued the frantic thoughts, the images of me undressing. And Herndon. Watching. My over sensitized skin prickled when the small hairs I cut flittered onto me. My skin that Herndon photographed. And saved.