Velvet Shadows

by Aubrey Rose

How could he have forsaken his art, his ethics, his integrity? When did he lose sight of his purpose, abandon his life path and begin to flounder in greed and decadence?

  He was ashamed.

  He was afraid.

  Struggling to his feet after sitting so long in one position, Micah started back for his beachfront loft. If he left for Detroit tomorrow, as he intended, would it be enough to set things right? Could he live with the knowledge of all of the lives destroyed by his actions?

  Jamie Lynn’s face haunted him, would until the day he died. Could he now abandon Velvet to a similar fate?

  “Well hello, Micah.”

  Micah didn’t need to turn around. He knew that voice. “Just leave me alone. I’ll be gone for good tomorrow.” Refusing to veer from his course, he ran. If he made it to the loft, locked himself inside --

  His arm was grasped from behind. A knife’s sharp blade pressed against his throat, ending his frantic retreat. Stunned and horrified, Micah was dragged into an alley between two buildings. A firm palm in the middle of his back shoved him deeper into the gloom. “You didn’t honestly believe it would be that simple, did you?”

  Micah scrambled forward, trying to outdistance his assailant. One more day! He’d only needed one more day. “Just let me go!”

  Pain erupted across the back of his head as his antagonist grasped a fistful of his hair. He was slammed face first into the brick wall. The rough surface scraped his skin and the pressure on his hair increased. He closed his eyes against the pain.

  “You’ve come too far to walk away.”

  Scalding pain sliced through his side. Micah cried out.

  “And you weren’t quite fast enough to run.”

  The same searing intensity shot through him in quick succession as the knife pierced his flesh again and again. He clutched the bricks beneath his fingertips until the burning pain of his tearing nails joined the agony exploding though his torso. A strangled scream tore from his throat. He slid down the wall, crouching in the dirt.

  He had to reach Roger.

  He had to warn Velvet!

  In a haze of pain and confusion, Micah stumbled from the alley, collapsing across the sidewalk. His vision faded in and out. He heard a scream and several unintelligible shouts. Someone called out nine-one-one. He was unable to connect the odd pieces of information with his own peril. Blood covered his hands. The smell of it, taste of it, saturated the air.

  As if in response to his frantic urging, Roger’s face appeared above him, gradually coming into focus. “Listen to me,” Micah began urgently.

  “What happened? Who did this to you?” Roger demanded, rage and anguish equally apparent in his voice.

  “I have insurance. You have to give it to Velvet.”

  “Rest, Micah. Help is on the way.”

  Micah moaned. The pain overwhelmed him. He licked his lips, wondering why his mouth was filled with blood. “Insurance!” He groaned.

  “Hang on, Micah. Hang on!”

  “Velvet…” he whispered stubbornly. Waves of red-hot pain crashed over him, sweeping him into oblivion.

  And the ambulance arrived too late.

  * * * * *

  “Is it against the law to open someone else’s mail?”

  The utter disbelief that crossed Elliot’s face was the only thing about the entire day Velvet found amusing. Coming here had been an impulse. In the parking lot of the police station she’d realized that having Depalma arrested would serve no purpose. He’d not left marks upon her body, so it would be her word against his. Besides, having him charged with attempted rape was no longer good enough.

  She wanted to destroy him!

  “Velvet, what are you doing here?” Elliot’s patronizing tone called her back to the present. “I have work to do.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” How often in the past ten years had she apologized for intruding on his busy schedule? “I need your help.”

  He leaned against the burgundy leather of his desk chair. Making his impatience obvious, he took off his wire-rimmed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Everything about him was neatly pressed, elegant. “What have you done now?”

  Ignoring the provocation, Velvet focused on her new mission in life. “I need you to call Captain Gordon and check out the Depalma Agency for me.”

  “What is this about? What do you suspect?”

  “I’m not sure what’s going on.” She nervously licked her lips. “I just know that something is going on.”

  “Then hire an investigator. I’m an attorney.”

  “I’m already working with an investigator…well sort of. I need to know what isn’t in public records. Brian knows you. He’ll tell you things he wouldn’t tell a reporter.”

  “Fine. I’ll make a few phone calls.”

  She forced a smile. “Thank you. I’ll be at the beach house. Give me a call.” Turning toward the door, his next statement stopped her.

  “The answer is yes.”

  “The answer?” Apparently she’d forgotten the question.

  “It’s illegal to open someone else’s mail.”

  * * * * *

  Velvet grinned rebelliously and intentionally broke the law. Her weapon of choice was a letter opener. Calling to verify that Chester was home before she drove to Hollywood, Velvet retrieved the considerable collection of Jamie Lynn’s mail and headed out to the beach house.

  She sat at the kitchen table and sorted through the standard assortment of flyers and advertisements. Two fashion magazines, a clothing catalogue, and several miscellaneous bills formed a second pile. Nothing unusual. Nothing helpful. Velvet turned to the last item, a bubble-insulated mailer.

  There was no return address to indicate where the package had originated. It was postmarked San Diego, CA. Velvet pulled the tab along one end and lifted a slim leather wallet from the large envelope. A handwritten note had also been tucked inside.

  I wasn’t sure what else to do with this, so I’m mailing it to the address on your driver’s license.

  -- Star

  Velvet’s heart lurched within her breast. Star had worked for the Depalma Agency about a year ago. Rushing for her cell, Velvet found the number Trevor had given her and activated the phone. She held her breath until Trevor picked up the phone. “Oh, thank God, you’re there.”

  “Well, hello to you too,” he said with a laugh.

  “Can you come out to the beach house?”

  “Are you all right? What’s so urgent?”

  “My heart is pounding.” She paused for a deep breath. “I think I’ve found Jamie Lynn. Oh, it’s not that simple. I know where she went or at least… Just get over here!”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Velvet returned to the table and examined the postmark more carefully. Two days. The wallet had been mailed two days before. There was no way of knowing how long Star had the wallet before she mailed it.

  “Oh shit, what is Star’s real name?”

  Opening the wallet, Velvet rummaged through its contents. Thirty-six dollars still nestled within. Various receipts, snapshots, and the driver’s license which had allowed the wallet’s return. The back of a matchbook caught Velvet’s attention. ‘The Snake Pit’ was printed in bright red gothic letters and a phone number had been scrawled across the back.

  Velvet glanced at the driver’s license photo and smiled. Only the DMV could make a model look awful.

  How was Star involved? She wouldn’t have returned Jamie’s wallet if she were…

  Velvet’s thoughts trailed away as her gaze focused on the information neatly centered beneath the photo. Jamie Lynn Sutton.

  Unconsciously clutching the wallet, Velvet whispered, “Trevor Sutton. He really is her brother.”

  Before she allowed herself to react to the information, Velvet flipped back through the stack of discarded mail. All the envelopes were addressed simply to Jamie Lynn. Even the bubble-insulated mailer hadn’t revealed Jamie’s last name.

  This was unbelievable. Velvet w
as too stunned to be angry. He’d lied to her. Well, not really lied, he’d misled her. She’d known there was something still wrong with his story. Now she understood.

  She picked up the matchbook cover and punched in the number on the back.

  “You got the machine. I’m probably at the Pit. If you don’t know the number there, you’re shit out of luck.” The man’s unconventional greeting ended with a laugh.

  “Charming,” she muttered, flipping the cover over. There was no address or business number, just the three words: The Snake Pit.

  Determined not to confront Trevor the second he walked through the door, Velvet silently led him into the kitchen.

  He smiled tentatively. “Was I lured here under false pretenses or have I done something horribly wrong?”

  “I’ve never been good at pretending,” Velvet began as they took their seats. Trevor lounged in the chair directly across the table from her. He tossed his ever-present black leather jacket over the back of another chair. How could she find him so appealing now that she knew he was using her?

  “Well, were you pretending on the phone or are you now?”

  “Neither.” She wanted to rail, but shouting wasn’t her style. She’d always been better at avoiding confrontations than controlling them. “I’ll come right to the point. I know who you are.”

  His eyebrow arched subtly, the only change in his expression. “Meaning?”

  “I guess it’s more accurate to say that I know who Jamie Lynn is.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze narrowed. She was no longer fooled by his nonchalance. His every expression was calculated. Why hadn’t she trusted her instincts? Trevor Sutton was a dangerous man.

  “Do you know where she is or was that bait to get me here?”

  He sounded annoyed and Velvet laughed. There was no way in hell he would steal her thunder. Shoving back from the table, Velvet grabbed the wallet and opened it to the section displaying Jamie’s ID. She walked to Trevor and held it up in front of his face. “When I phoned you, I hadn’t yet noticed the name on this license.”

  Trevor snatched the wallet from her outstretched hand. “Where did this come from? How did you get it?”

  “A woman named Star mailed it to Jamie’s apartment. The package was postmarked two days ago in San Diego.”

  He stood suddenly, brushing past her as he reached for his jacket. Velvet thought he meant to leave and her heartbeat hammered. He had what he needed, so…

  But he fished a cell phone out of his pocket and Velvet exhaled raggedly. After thumbing through the menu, he raised the phone to his ear. “Hi Clay, it’s me. I have a possible lead. I need you to book the next flight to San Diego.” He paused as the other person spoke. “Ring me back as soon as you find one. Thanks.”

  “Who is Clay?”

  “Clayton Morris. He’s an employee, sort of. Was Star’s address on the package? Do you know her?”

  Velvet crossed her arms, allowing indignation to fill her gaze. “We’ll get back to Jamie in a minute. I think I deserve an explanation.”

  He leaned against the kitchen counter, capturing her reluctant gaze with his own. “What would you have done?”

  She wanted to hit him, to beat the truth out of him. He’d lied to her, deceived her, used her. And he was so damn good at it she’d likely believe anything he told her, even now. Tears welled in her eyes. She quickly blinked them away. Why couldn’t the attraction be real. She was a means to an end, nothing more.

  “Jamie Lynn is your sister.” She needed to say the words out loud, just to establish that they were talking about the same thing.

  “Yes, Jamie’s my sister. Jamie got pulled over for speeding two days before Halloween. A friend of a friend notified my father. Dad used to be a cop. I went to her apartment and one of your other tenants told me about the party. I grabbed a costume and figured if I couldn’t find her, I’d just go back to her apartment. I slept in the parking lot that night waiting for her to return.”

  “Why didn’t you call the police? I know I was the first one to report her missing.”

  “I had no real indication anything was wrong. I didn’t recognize her at the party. For all I knew she could have spent the night with a boyfriend.”

  “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

  “How was I supposed to know that? Don’t you think it’s tortured me knowing I was there that night and I couldn’t stop whatever happened to her!”

  “I’m still confused. Why pretend to be a reporter? What made you contact me?”

  “Every instinct I possess told me Depalma was involved in her disappearance, and the deeper I dug the dirtier it got.”

  Her chin quivered as she stubbornly pressed her lips together. “Why did you lie to me?”

  He reached for her. She twisted way, not nearly ready to forgive him.

  “Let’s go sit down and sort this out.”

  She walked to the living room and plopped down on one end of the sofa. He sat facing her and put his phone on the floor.

  “I knew you worked for Depalma, but I hadn’t seen you in eleven years.” Trevor scooted toward her, gently touching her knee. She didn’t pull away. “People can change. I had to be careful. Most of what I told you was true. My greatest sin has been omission.”

  “You ran into dead end after dead end, so you decided to push your one advantage.” She glared at him. “Poor little Velvet was putty in your hands. Give her some attention and she’ll spy for you. Touch her just right and she’ll --”

  He grabbed her ankles and she yelped. Dragging her across the sofa, he pulled her onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. She shoved against his chest. Trevor didn’t budge. “I never manipulated you like that, and I won’t accept the accusation. What I feel for you began long before this investigation. One has nothing to do with the other.”

  Velvet wanted to believe him. No, she needed to believe him. Her eyes dropped to his chin. “You used me, Trevor. You can’t deny it.” His hands swept up her back and drew her forward, molding her against his chest.

  “I love my sister. I won’t deny that. But I never meant to hurt you.”

  His voice was soft, intoxicating. Velvet felt her irritation melt. He brushed her hair behind her ears and traced the curve of her cheek. If he kissed her now, it would end their conversation, and too much was left unsaid. Wiggling out of his embrace, Velvet scooted back to her end of the sofa. “What are we going to do?”

  Trevor chuckled. “You just crawled away from me, so I’ll presume you’re asking about Jamie. What do you know about Star?”

  “She didn’t work for the agency long. I’d heard she became an exotic dancer, but I haven’t spoken to her in months. Starling. Theresa Starling. That’s her real name. Oh, and there’s a matchbook cover with a phone number on it. I tried the number and got a man’s machine. He didn’t identify himself.”

  “Where is it? I’ll have Clayton run the number.”

  “It’s on the kitchen table. The name Snake Pit is printed on the cover. It’s probably a bar or a nightclub.”

  “When did you go get Jamie’s mail?”

  “After I left the studio.” She shuddered as Anthony’s cruel smile flashed through her mind. As vaguely as she could, Velvet explained what had happened.

  “Anthony caught you looking at the pictures?”

  Unable to voice the admission, Velvet nodded.

  When Trevor reached for her ankles the second time, Velvet released her pent-up breath in a shaky chuckle. His hands framed her face and he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “What did he do?”

  The words sounded casual, but Velvet recognized the dangerous intensity in his hazel eyes. “He didn’t hurt me,” she insisted, too quickly. “He just frightened me.”

  “How?”

  It was a demand. Excitement fluttered in the pit of Velvet’s stomach. His anger proved that he cared. “He shoved me against the wall and…groped me. Gwen returned before he could do anything else.”


  “And if she hadn’t?” he snarled.

  “I can’t think like that, Trevor. I don’t know if he would have raped me or not. I drove to the police station, but I had nothing worth reporting. I want to get this guy, badly! And it will work to our advantage if he thinks I’m running scared.”

  Chapter Eight

  It felt so good just to be held, to be surrounded by the warmth and security of another human being. Trevor didn’t try to kiss her or change their embrace into something more intimate. Velvet rested her head on Trevor’s shoulder and looped her arms loosely about his waist. She was still seated on his lap. Trevor seemed content to just hold her. One of his arms pressed across the small of her back, while he brushed up and down her spine with the fingertips of his other hand.

  “What about Dillon?” Trevor whispered against her ear.

  Lethargically, Velvet raised her head from his shoulder. “What about him?”

  “Where is he? Who will watch over him while we’re in San Diego?”

  “He’s spending the weekend with a friend. Maybe I should let Elliot know that I’m going out of town for a while.”

  “The fewer people who know the specifics of our travel plans, the better.”

  “I’ll just call the house while he’s at the office and leave a vague message on the machine.”

  “This could get dangerous. Maybe you should --”

  “Don’t even think about it. We’re in this together, come what may. I want to bring Depalma down just as much as you do.”

  His phone rang and Velvet went to get the matchbook cover, while Clayton gave Trevor their flight information. After explaining what he’d learned, Trevor ended the call. “Tomorrow morning is the best he could do. Everything else is standby, and I’m not playing that game.”

  “We could drive.” Velvet returned to the sofa beside him.

  “We’d still arrive in the middle of the night. The flight gets us there about 9:00 a.m. Clayton will give me an update in the morning, so we’ll just have to find something to occupy our time.”

  She smiled. “I can’t think of anything, right off hand.”

  “Well, I sure as hell can.” He pressed his lips against her temple. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”