‘If you could open the vehicle, Ma’am, and step back onto the sidewalk,’ his hand is still hitched to his hip belt. Jesus, don’t they need a search warrant to check your car?
‘Don’t you need a warrant?’ I test tiredly, but I open both of the doors that face against the sidewalk before stepping back, as instructed.
‘You just gave me permission, Ma’am,’ his accent is lazy, his gaze informs me otherwise.
The officer refuses to turn his body away from me but glances casually inside the empty vehicle. My luggage is in the boot, my handbag on the front passenger seat along with my travel documents.
‘Can I see your ID and license, Ma’am,’ he twists in my direction and grasps his radio calling in my car details.
‘My papers are in the car if I am permitted to fetch them?’ I arch an eyebrow towards him in question. He nods his agreement. I climb over the driver’s seat and bring out my handbag, which holds my passport and license.
‘Move your hands slowly, Ma’am,’ he commands, I comply, as fear wakes me from my fatigued state.
I watch as he keeps one eye on me and another on the paperwork that I pass to him.
‘You Oliver Parker’s sister?’ His eyes flicker up to me, his tone less severe.
‘Yes, sir,’ I swallow, painfully.
‘I’m sorry for your loss, Ma’am,’ he nods. ‘Where are you heading? Forensics haven’t quite finished here, expected to be done by Friday.’ He returns my paperwork.
‘Oh!’ I feel my shoulders sag. I am dead on my feet and would die for a shower and a soft, clean bed right now. ‘I didn’t know that,’ I hear the squeak in my voice, the tears that have been threatening the entire journey about to erupt at this unwelcome information.
‘There’s a hotel on the hill, not sure anyone is there to book you in now,’ his eyes soften at my evident distressed state. I try to swallow down the lump that lodges in my throat.
‘Okay, am I free to go?’ I ask I’ll sleep in the car if I must.
‘Of course, Miss Parker. Let me just call through to Marnie, she owns the hotel, see if she can help you out. Sit in your vehicle,’ he encourages, his eyes softening at my apparent emotional state.
‘Thank you, officer,’ his kindness is doing nothing to suppress the locked emotion that curls in my chest.
I take a deep breath and wipe away one stray tear that has somehow managed to escape. ‘I can get through this,’ I recite to myself, as I climb in the Jeep and lay my head back against the soft headrest closing my eyes against the throbbing in my temple.
‘Miss Parker?’ the officer is leaning into the car, ‘you okay, Ma’am?’
‘Yes, sorry. I have been on the go since yesterday,’ I explain.
‘Of course,’ his previous hostile glance now exposes his concern. ‘Marnie said if you go on up, she’ll get you a room prepared.’
‘I am so grateful,’ I murmur. I expel a relieved breath at this news.
‘No problem, Ma’am. If you continue up to the second set of lights and turn a left up to the hill, you’ll see the hotel before you. Marnie will meet you there.’
‘Thank you again, Officer,’ I call as he closes my door with a courteous nod.
True to his word, as soon as I pull into the small hotel car park and turn the engine off, the front door of the hotel opens. A middle-aged woman, who I suspect is Marnie, wrapped in a white towelling dressing gown, waves at me warmly.
I wave back as I open the boot, and lift out my rolling suitcase.
‘We can get your things in the morning, honey. You come in now and get yourself some sleep,’ Marnie calls over affectionately.
‘It’s okay. I need my toiletries,’ I explain, as I lock up the vehicle and move towards the doorway.
‘Come on in, honey. You look like you are sleeping on your feet.’ Her accent is warm and welcoming, instantly calming my insides.
I send her a watery smile, ‘Thank you so much for opening for me, Mrs?’ I question.
‘Just call me Marnie, honey. You go straight on up. We can deal with the booking-in tomorrow,’ she passes me a key card. ‘First floor, room seventeen. You think you can manage from here?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ I take the key card and search for the lift to take me up to my bed, ‘I’m Sophie,’ I smile.
‘Elevator on your left Sophie honey, sweet dreams now,’ her hand squeezes my bicep gently, reassuringly.
********
I wake and glance at the bedside clock, which enlightens me to the lateness of the hour. Two-thirty in the afternoon and I have slept solidly for ten hours. Stretching out against the soft white sheets, I lay and take in my surroundings. I didn’t take much notice in the early hours of the morning, all I had for me to do, was shower and flop into the waiting bed. The room is clean and comfortable providing everything that you would require as a guest. The décor is neutral, the shower room basic, but again clean with fluffy grey towels.
Stepping inside the bathroom, I go about my business and take another shower to wash away the lingering fatigue. Dressing in skinny black jeans and a black tank top, I dry off my short elf shaped dark locks enticing the longer front over to one side. I apply my daily makeup of liner and mascara and line my lips, colouring them in with gloss, before pushing my feet into my cute ankle boots. I look in the mirror and notice how sad my substantial hazel eyes appear beyond the long lashes.
My stomach grumbling distracts me from my perusal. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, not relishing the thought of aeroplane food. Grabbing my handbag, I push it over my shoulder and make for the outside world.
‘There you are,’ Marnie greets me like an old friend from behind the reception desk. ‘Oh, you look rested you, beautiful girl, you,’ she remarks. ‘You must be hungry do you want me to make you something, honey?’
‘Do you have a restaurant area?’ I ask, softly.
‘The restaurant isn’t open until tonight now, honey. You want something, I can rustle you up something,’ Marnie offers. Her brown hair, sprinkled with grey pulled into a bun at her nape, her friendly grey eyes lined with mascara, her mouth painted pillow box red.
‘That’s kind of you Marnie, but I need to report to the police station, I need to find out what’s happening with my brother’s investigation, I’ll get something in town. Anywhere you can recommend?’
‘Go to Ellie’s, honey. She’ll set you up with something delicious,’ her eyes soften. ‘I’m so sorry this has happened to you, Sophie,’ she touches my arm. ‘If I can do anything to lessen your pain, you tell me.’
‘Thank you,’ I drop my eyes to my passport held in my hand. ‘Do you need a credit card on file, or for me to sign anything?’
‘It’s okay, honey, we will sort it out another time. You do what you need to do for your brother, and I’ll see you later. You want me to book you a table for dinner?’
‘I don’t think so, thank you. I will eat now,’ I smile. ‘Can you direct me to the police station?’
‘It’s the sheriff’s office, honey. Back down the hill and take a right, second left. Ellie’s is on the same stretch,’ she notifies me, ‘I’ll call her now and tell her to prepare you something.’ Marnie’s perceptive gaze lingers on my slight figure, ‘when was the last time you ate, honey?’
‘Yesterday morning,’ I admit ignoring the growl of my stomach.
‘You have to eat, child,’ she tuts, her hand at her hip.
I smile, it’s been so long since someone had fussed over me, I’d forgotten how warm and fuzzy it makes you feel inside. ‘I’m okay, Marnie. Thank you,’ I turn with a wave.
********
‘Yes, Ma’am?’ A blonde, slim built police officer sits on the reception desk of the sheriff’s office with his eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of him.
‘Yes, I wonder whether I could speak to someone regarding Oliver Parker, please?’ I request, politely.
His alert, blue eyes move to mine, ‘Miss Parker, we were expecting you,’ his gaze
moves over me appreciatively. ‘If you would like to take a seat, I will check if Detective Austin has a moment to speak with you.’ He picks up the phone set beside him, and without taking his eyes off my breasts, I hear him speak into the receiver. ‘Mo, can you tell Nate, Miss Parker is here to see him.’ He grins salaciously before moving his eyes up to mine, ‘Frank was right, absolutely stunning!’
I glare at him as I turn and take a seat beside a blonde woman, who looks slightly worse for wear. She’s dressed in a denim mini-skirt that leaves very little to the imagination, her low-cut tank exposing her well-endowed cleavage.
‘Hey doll!’ she slurs.
‘Hi,’ I attempt to breathe through my mouth to prevent me getting drunk on the alcoholic fumes that are emanating from her.
‘You sure have pretty eyes,’ she announces through the squinting of her eyes. ‘I do girls, too, you interested,’ she states. I almost giggle at the seriousness of her proposal.
‘I’m good, thank you,’ I smile, ‘I like penis’s.’
‘Me too, doll, me too,’ she shakes her head with a small smile set on her lipstick smeared mouth.
I wait for a full five minutes that I must say feels closer to fifteen until I see a tall, dark-haired man with the bluest eyes I have ever seen, swagger into the reception area from behind the counter. He’s dressed in jeans and a grey button-down shirt, the shield of his badge hooked on his leather belt. He speaks quietly to the guy in the uniform for a minute before moving his gaze curiously to mine.
‘Miss Parker!’ He calls over, his deep voice smooth, lazy and utterly alluring.
I walk towards him, and he signifies with a finger for me to move to the door to the right of me, before disappearing behind the wall only to meet me at the other side of the indicated door.
‘Miss Parker,’ he holds out his hand. I place mine inside the warm, strong grip, ‘I am so sorry for your loss.’ I squeeze his hand lightly, in return, ignoring the drag of his penetrating gaze.
‘Thank you,’ I pull my fingers from his hold and provide him with a small smile.
‘Please, come through,’ his eyes are intense as he leads me through to, what I presume, is an interview room. To reach this place, we walk through an open planned area that holds what looks like the entire Krystal police force. I feel a thousand pairs of eyes directed towards me as I follow the cute backside of what I presume is Detective Austin.
‘I’m sorry for your wait,’ he opens the door for me to walk through, which I do. ‘Please, take a seat,’ he steps up to the small table, which has two chairs either side. I sit one side, and he sits the other. The room has a stench that reminds me of a school gym, whether it’s bodily fluids or staleness of the windowless room, I can’t be sure.
‘Thank you,’ I sit, back ramrod straight, my bag and jacket grasped tightly in my hold on my lap.
‘I’m Detective Austin,’ he begins, his glance directed to mine. ‘I’m taking care of your brother’s case.’
‘His murder,’ I interrupt.
He looks surprised, his eyebrow arches, ‘say what?’
‘I would prefer it, Mr Austin if you didn’t refer to my brother’s untimely death as a case!’ I remark, snootily. ‘He was a human being, with a life ahead of him, someone robbed him of the opportunity to live that life. I would like to know why that happened.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to offend you, Miss Parker,’ although he looks anything but contrite. ‘I assure you, we are all as keen as you are to establish the circumstances that have led to your brother’s homicide.’
‘What do you have so far?’ I ask.
He regards me silently for a beat, ‘what do you know about your brother’s life, Miss Parker?’
I shrug, ‘day to day, not a lot,’ I admit. ‘I know he came to Krystal to change the direction of his life.’
‘Change the direction?’ He questions, ‘what path was he originally on, do you know?’
‘Not really, well except he was working for our father in Boston. He wanted to become a hairdresser, dad disagreed with his career choice, thinks a man should thump his fists on his chest and swing through the trees of the Amazon. He cut off all financial aid to force the issue. Oliver defied him, regardless, and left Boston to start a new life here.’
‘Why here?’ He frowns. ‘Do you have family here?’ He glances down at the paperwork in front of him.
‘No idea, our father was from New York, originally, most of our extended family are around the east coast, I believe. None in Denver.’
‘Your mother, she’s from England?’ He checks, scribbling down some notes.
‘Yes, although she’s deceased,’ I add.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he regards me through his gorgeous long lashes. ‘You half-siblings?’ He watches me intently, his eyes burning a hole into mine. My body alerts to the intensity of his gaze, fuck he’s hot.
‘No, why?’ his enquiry startles me.
‘Because you have an English accent, from what I know Oliver was all American,’ he comments.
‘That’s complicated,’ I announce, not wanting to get into the dysfunctions of my fucked-up family.
‘How so?’ He continues.
‘What?’ I frown.
‘Why complicated?’ He presses, leaning back casually in the small hard chair.
‘That’s personal information,’ I sit up straighter, not prepared to elaborate and resenting the casualness of his tone of such a serious subject.
‘Miss Parker,’ he places his pen on the folder in front of him, his impatience evident, my gaze draws to his perfect fingers, knowing for sure he would know how to use them to pleasure a woman. The guy is undeniably hot and probably has a harem of women on the go, no wedding band. In different circumstances, I may have made a play for him, to sample the delights. Right now, I can barely keep things together as it is, without the added complication of a man.
‘We need to gather as much information as we possibly can to ascertain the details of what happened to your brother, what seems like personal to you, could be a vital part of the puzzle that solves the mystery of his death.’
I stare him down, ignoring his spill. He watches this for a beat before his lips begin to twitch, which only serves to make me madder.
‘My family history has no relevance,’ I refuse to turn away from his somewhat amused gaze.
He shakes his head so slightly I could have imagined it, ‘okay, let’s move things along.’
‘From the information, you have so far, do you have any idea of why someone would want to shoot my brother at point blank range?’ I ask, bluntly. Who would want to stick a bullet in the head of an ordinary guy just trying to work his way to a better life? A shudder runs through me at the knowledge he didn’t stand a chance.
His eyes fail to miss the tremble and soften for a second before he continues, ‘we have a few leads that we are currently following,’ he responds vaguely. ‘It seems your brother formed a few unlikely friendships that we are currently investigating. Do you know the circles he mixed in?’ His eyes assess me, suspiciously.
‘No,’ I shake my head regretfully. ‘Ollie and my relationship relied mainly on the internet,’ I admitted. ‘He visited me in London last summer, but apart from what he told me on our weekly video calls, I know nothing about his life, first hand. I was planning on visiting this summer, for a month, to meet his friends and get to know him better,’ I confide, sadly.
‘I’m sorry,’ I glance up to see the sincerity in his empathy. ‘I have a brother too, I would be equally pissed, not to mention upset, in your situation.’ I nod, my gaze returning to his long fingers, now fiddling with the pen on the table between us. ‘You okay?’ He asks, softly.
I snap out of my daze, ‘yes, thank you,’ I need to eat, I feel faint with hunger. ‘If that’s all, I need to go,’ I stand to leave, but the Detective remains seated his gaze pensive as he stares up at me.
‘You are staying at Marnie’s, I hear,’ his bright eyes move
lazily over my facial features.
‘Yeah, until it’s okay to get into Ollie’s,’ I turn towards the door.
‘You staying?’ He questions, randomly.
‘Staying?’ I repeat, dumbly.
‘In Krystal,’ he stands to his full height, meaning I need to tilt my head up to reply to him.
‘Just until I know what happened, resolve it in my mind,’ I share. ‘Something doesn’t sit right with me, a normal guy working a normal job, somehow two and two equals five,’ I shrug my shoulders.
His lip tilts slightly to one side, a small indent of a dimple flashing for a quarter of a second. ‘What do you do?’
‘Do?’ His eyes send me giddy, but I mentally shake myself, I am here because my brother was killed not to make a bed mate of a sexy detective.
‘Yeah, you know, how you pay your bills and shit! It seems you have a knack for investigating,’ he teases.
‘Nothing as exciting as that, I’m afraid, Mr Austin.’ I stride to the door aware of his proximity.
‘Nate,’ he mumbles.
‘Sorry?’ I probe, my hand hovering above the door handle.
‘My name, Nate,’ he hands me a card that has his contact details. ‘Any problems, you call day or night. You should be able to get into Ollie’s place by the end of play Friday. You hear anything that has you thinking or worried that’s where you call.’ He points to the card in my fingers.
‘Okay, thank you.’ I step into the corridor.
‘Does that mean I get to use your first name?’ he falls into step beside me.
‘You can call me, Miss Parker,’ I call back, haughtily. I hear a chuckle as I make my way out of the pit of alpha males.
8 stepped outside of Denver International Airport and glanced around at the crowds of people scurrying around eager to reach their intended destination. Whether they were flying into unknown horizons or returning from new discoveries, they were hugging, some crying, with the emotion of being reunited, or possibly separated, from their loved ones. This fleeting realisation causes pain to sear directly through the centre of me. Sort yourself out, Sophie! I instruct myself harshly. I knew there would be no one here to welcome me, to hug me tight and promise me that everything was going to be okay, but witnessing it first-hand only brought home how alone I truly was.
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