My heart was in my throat and I took a second to calm myself down. I was being dramatic. Probably I was wrong about Helena altogether. She was probably just one of those poor, misunderstood rich girls. She was probably really sweet and—
Banging on my door sent me screaming away from it. “I have a gun!”
“No, you don’t! You’re for gun control. Open this door, woman!”
“Yeah, we just chased you all down Biltmore! You knocked a linebacker down.”
“You don’t even know what a linebacker is, Devon.”
“Who do you think I was sleeping with last winter?”
I threw open my door and stood there, facing Sammie and Devon, with my hands on my hips. “You two scared the living hell out of me.”
Sammie raised her eyebrows and pushed past me. “We scared you? Hardly. You have a lot of explaining to do. You’ve been acting shifty and avoiding us.”
“You haven’t come down to see us all week.”
“You skipped our lunch date.”
“We tried calling you.”
I held up my hands. “I get it. Jesus H Christ. You two are like the nagging mother I never needed.”
“If by nagging you mean concerned, then yes. Yes, we are.”
Sammie gave me her best doe eyes. “We love you.”
“We’re worried.”
“You two are horrible. Stop it. Stop speaking together like you’re my parents. I’m fine. I’ve just been tired and not feeling well.”
Devon looked at Sammie. “She’s lying.”
“She’s definitely lying.”
I groaned. “Okay, fine! I am lying. I think I saw something crazy and I’m trying to process it. I’ll talk to y’all about it when I get it figured out.”
They looked at each other and then back to me. Sammie nodded. “That’s all we needed.”
“But you have to promise to tell us as soon as you can.”
“Soon.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.” I gestured into my living room. “Do you want to come in, all the way, so I can close my door?”
Devon shrugged and strutted past my living room and into the small kitchen that was the other half of the room my living room shared. “We would’ve brought stuff for soup, but you were running so fast. We thought someone was chasing you.”
“We were chasing after you, while looking around for whoever else was chasing you. We were totally going to kick someone’s ass for you.” Sammie wrapped her arms around my waist after I kicked my door closed, and hugged me. “We would mess someone up for you.”
Warmth spread over me and I hugged her back, tighter. “Thanks.”
She pulled back and put the back of her hand to my forehead. “No, I’m worried you actually are sick. You’re never soft and mushy.”
I shrugged away from her and rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t being soft and mushy then, either.”
Devon shut my fridge door and made a face at me. It looked as if he’d seen a starving dog eat a kitten. There was pity and an equal amount of horror and disgust. “There’s literally nothing in your fridge.”
“I’ve been meaning to go grocery shopping.”
“Something serious happened, Sammie. I’ve never seen her fridge empty. She hasn’t gone shopping. There’s no ice cream, no little tub of icing with a plastic spoon sticking out of it, no cheese.”
Sammie went to feel my forehead again and I slapped her hand away. She frowned. “Something is wrong and even though you promised you’d tell us in time, I really am worried. Could you just tell me and pretend like you didn’t? I won’t make a big deal out of it.”
“No. Let’s just drop it.” I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and unzipped my skirt. “I’m going to get changed and then we’re going to order pizza. We’ll talk and hang out, or we can drink wine and talk shit about people. I don’t care. I’m just ready for anything but talking about why I’m upset.”
They both stared at me for a few seconds and then nodded. They were so in sync with each other that they even nodded at the same time. Devon pulled me in for a hug and tugged at my ponytail. “Fine. We’ll play nice.”
“Or not nice. I want to gossip. It’s so weird, though, because we normally talk shit about Paul Porter, but he’s dead.” Sammie made a grossed-out face. “Although, with all the rumors going around about his death, we really could still gossip about him.”
I went into my small bedroom and stripped. I pulled on a tank top and some men’s pajama bottoms stolen from an ex before going back out. I wanted to grill them about what they’d heard about Paul’s death, but I didn’t want to look too eager. “I haven’t been out of my office much and Mr. Caldwell hasn’t caught on to the idea of gossiping yet, so I haven’t heard anything else.”
Devon got his eager face on. “Oh, well, let us fill you in.”
Sammie nodded. “It’s just getting weirder and weirder.”
“Someone said he was found with a plug up his you-know-where. Strangled to death with a butt plug up his ass.”
My stomach turned. “That’s… not good.”
“No. He’d also been conked on the head pretty good, apparently. The cops don’t have a clue what happened. Someone said they think it was some kind of auto-erotic asphyxiation.”
My brain turned. “That’s… really not good.”
“No…” Devon drew the word out and gave me a strange look. “Are you okay, Elizabeth?”
No, I wasn’t. I stood up and hurried to the bathroom. I made it to the toilet just in time to upchuck the little bit I’d eaten that day. My stomach kept roiling and my brain practically cramped, it was running so fast.
Sammie grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet and wet it in the bathroom sink. She folded it up just so and handed it to me. “Maybe you really are sick.”
I nodded. “I think I ate bad yogurt today.”
“We’ll go get stuff to make you soup, okay?”
I shook my head and gagged again. “No. No soup. No anything.”
“Well, we’ll just sit here and take care of you.”
I wiped my mouth and sat back against the bathtub. “I think I’m just going to get in bed and try to sleep it off. I’m exhausted.”
Sammie frowned, but she eventually nodded and stood up. “Call us if you need anything, okay? We’ll come right back over. Even if it’s just getting you a glass of water from the fridge.”
“Sure.”
She sighed. “I’m worried about you, Beth.”
I stayed quiet because it just made me feel even worse. She never shortened my name and when she did, it meant she was serious. I stared at the tile beside the toilet and noticed a ball of hair that I’d apparently missed when throwing away the hair from my hairbrush. It stared back at me, probably just as grossed out by my lying to my friends as I was by it.
“We love you.”
I looked back up at Sammie and nodded. “I love you. And Devon. I’m sorry.”
Chapter 6
After spending a weekend worrying and stressing over my Monday morning assignment to sit at Brenda’s dirty desk, I was so exhausted on Monday morning that I breezed through it, barely awake. Helena didn’t come in for most of my time there and when she did, it was with her brother, Mark, and another member of the board.
That afternoon, back at my own desk, I tried to convince myself that things could just go back to normal. I was almost out of it enough to persuade myself that they could when I saw Helena walk past my office with her hands clasped in front of her, walking with an older woman who was sobbing into a napkin.
Helena was as stiff and cold as she always was, but I could see her mouth moving in the few seconds she was there, and what I saw sent lava through my veins. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Porter.”
Paul’s mother, I assumed. Sobbing over the death of her son. Correction—the murder of her son. Her only son, if my memory was correct. Sobbing to the woman who’d been performing intense sex
ual acts on her son just hours before his death. Maybe less. Maybe seconds. Maybe I’d heard her son’s death.
My stomach lurched and I had to shove my chair back and drop my head between my knees so I didn’t vomit all over the paperwork covering my desk. Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I stayed there for a few minutes. “What the fuck?”
“Whoa, Ms. Shore.” Mr. Caldwell had his professional voice on and I instantly knew there was someone with him.
I sat up, head still spinning, and took in him standing next to Mark Stelton. I winced and balled my hands into fists on my knees. “Sorry, Mr. Caldwell; I’m feeling sick.”
Mark frowned. “Sick or not, Ms. Shore, language like that is frowned upon here at the Stelton Firm.”
I wanted to flip the preppy little asshole off and remind him that he didn’t own the Stelton Firm. His father hadn’t left it to him. Stupid prick. “Of course it is.”
“Just don’t let it happen again, Elizabeth.” Mr. Caldwell gestured Mark into his office and then winked at me. “Hold my calls for now.”
As if on cue, the phone on my desk rang. I answered it and ran my hand through my hair. A few more strands than normal came out with my hand and I gasped.
“Elizabeth?”
I took a deep breath in and shook my head. “Yes?”
“Hey. It’s Marie. I was wondering if you were coming to yoga tonight. I saw that you missed last week and I was thinking that if you were going to miss this week, too, I could bring my friend, Karen.”
I scowled. I’d waited for months for my spot at Monday and Wednesday night yoga. The class led by Callie Conn was notoriously hard to get into. The time slot was ideal and Callie was amazing. It pissed me off that Marie was trying to steal that spot.
“I’ll be there.” I knew I sounded short, but I had more things to worry about than Marie’s friend, Karen.
“Are you sure? I just hate to see a spot in the class go wasted. Karen would love to be in it. She’s next on the waiting list.”
“And it looks like she’ll be staying on that list until someone else drops out. I’ll be there tonight. I’ve gotta run, Marie. Sorry to cut you short. I’ll see you tonight.”
I dropped the phone and sat back in my chair. It only reclined so much and I needed a full recline so I could curl into the fetal position and pretend that everything was as boring as it’d been the month before. Maybe that was my key to moving on. I just needed to live my life like normal.
So that’s what I tried to do. I finished the workday and caught an early dinner before changing into my workout clothes and going to the sacred yoga class.
I loved yoga. I usually went to class religiously and even sometimes did it at home. It helped me relax and settle down, something that wasn’t always easy for me.
I took my normal spot in class, earlier than I usually was, and sat on my mat, stretching. I tried to clear my head, but it wasn’t easy. I wished I was self-centered enough to force the idea of murder out of my head so I could relax, but it didn’t seem to be in my cards.
Even when class started and Callie’s calming voice led everyone through a series of gentle poses and even-breathing cycles, I kept picturing Paul Porter’s mom. It cost me my focus and balance. I fell more times than I could count, distracting everyone in class, and I was a sweating, panting mess within minutes of class starting.
Halfway through, I decided I couldn’t do it. I was drawing so much attention away from Callie that people were starting to glare at me. I grabbed my mat and water bottle and hurried to the locker room to grab my bag.
“Hey! Elizabeth, right?”
I turned to find Lauren, the woman I normally put my mat down next to, coming over to me. She was gently glowing, compared to my tomato glow. I nodded and finished shoving my mat in some semblance of a roll.
“You okay? I noticed you were missing last week and you don’t seem like yourself this week.” She sounded sincerely worried and, for some reason, it got to me.
“I…” I unwound my bun and worked it back, higher on my head. “I’m having a hard time at work.”
She sat down on the bench behind us and patted it. “We’ve been yoga neighbors for months now. Tell me all your secrets.”
I shook my head, but I found myself sitting anyway. “You don’t want to know my secrets.”
“Because then you’d have to kill me?” She said it in a dry way so that I knew she was joking, but my horrified face must’ve tipped her off that something wasn’t right. “Are you in trouble?”
I groaned and shook my head again. I was starting to feel like a bobblehead. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m not in any trouble.”
“Because if you are, I work at a security firm. I work with five huge men who just so happen to like protecting people. Most of the time.”
I hesitated. “I’m really not in trouble. I just…”
“What, Elizabeth?”
“Do they ever offer advice to people?”
She furrowed her brows. “Advice on what?”
I sighed and chewed on my lower lip. “I think I witnessed a crime.”
“What kind of crime?”
I frowned and stood up. I wasn’t going to start talking. Even though I wanted to. I couldn’t do it.
She stood up and opened a locker a few away from mine. She grabbed a wallet out and pulled a card from it. She produced a pen next and scribbled something on the back. “My number is on top. The bottom number belongs to one of the men I work with. His name is Branson Wright and he’ll help you. He can give you advice. Or at least tell you who you should talk to, if he can’t help.”
I took the card and stared down at it. Branson Wright. I ran my finger over the fresh ink and smeared it slightly. Could I really just call someone up and tell them what I saw?
“I’m going to head back in. Just give him a call. Or me. I’m always around, too.” She smiled and took a few steps back towards the room we’d been practicing in. “Also, don’t miss any more classes or Marie is going to swoop in and take your spot for her annoying friends.”
I tucked the card into my bag and threw it over my shoulder. “Life is going back to normal soon. It’s got to.”
“See you in a couple of days, then.” Lauren strode back towards Callie’s yoga class, a perpetual pep to her step.
I practically slid across the floor, like some goo-wielding slug. By the time I made it out of the gym, I felt like I’d burned five hundred calories, just trying to move. I felt worse than before. I felt sick. I felt like the weight of the world was sitting on my chest. The weight of someone’s death.
Walking down the street felt stressful. There was so much life, so many people walking around. I wondered if any of them had known Paul. Were they sick with grief and confusion over what had happened to him? I knew his mother was.
On the other hand, I worried that Helena would be on the street, watching me. Like she knew that I’d seen her with Paul. I knew what she had on the line. I’d watched Law & Order. I knew how crazy bad people could get.
I slipped into a little hole-in-the-wall café and sat at a table in the back. Living like nothing had happened wasn’t working. It just compounded my anxiety when I tried to ignore that I had any in the first place.
I pulled out the card that Lauren had handed me and stared at the man’s name. I could call him and easily get an answer about what I should do. I could just say that I thought I saw my boss kill someone. It’d be fine. I could do it on my company-provided cell phone, too. That made sense.
Running my hands down my face, I sighed heavily and looked around. There were a few other people in the café, all minding their own business. The woman standing behind the counter looked bored beyond belief and like she had way better things to do than stand there and wait on some schmuck to give her an order.
Then there was me. Going through some kind of crisis that I was nowhere near mentally capable of handling. I was out of my depth. I needed help. I just didn’t know the best way to
get it.
Just then, a couple walked into the café, holding hands and looking sweet. They ordered and then sat at a table in the front of the room, with a clear view of the busy street outside. They sat close and whispered to each other, so caught up in their little world that no one else around them seemed to exist.
And just like that, I knew how I was going to solve one of my problems. I pulled out my cell phone and tapped the card while dialing Branson Wright’s phone number.
A gravelly male voice answered before the first ring even got all the way through. “Wright.”
I cleared my throat and told myself that I wasn’t actually asking a stranger out on a date. “Hi. Branson?”
“Who’s asking?” There was suspicion in his voice, enough to amp up my anxiety.
“Um… Elizabeth Shore.” I took a deep inhale and pushed through. “I got your number from Lauren. She suggested I give you a call.”
“Why?”
“Well, she thought I should talk to you about… something. Would you be interested in joining me on a date some night soon?”
Silence was the only answer I got. I had seemingly shocked him into silence.
“We can meet wherever is best for you. Just nowhere in the city. Somewhere low-key. I’ll pay.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Taking you out on a date.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to meet you and talk.”
“No.”
I stuttered. “Why not? Do you have a girlfriend or something?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have a girlfriend or a wife? Why wouldn’t you want to go out on a date? A date that you don’t have to pay for, too.”
“Because I don’t know you, lady.”
“Well, you can get to know me. Didn’t you hear me say I have to talk to you about something? Now, name a place. I’ll meet you there when you’re free.” Annoyance made me pushy, the way it usually did, and I forgot the nerves I’d felt at first.
Branson was quiet for a few beats and then he heaved a sigh that would’ve made a weaker woman let him go. “Apple’s. In Ambrose.”
Black Dog Security- Complete 5-Part Series Page 19