Weakness

by Shelley Michaels

  ‘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 a normal 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 bedmate 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.

  ********

  Chapter Two

  When I walk into Ellie’s, it is obvious she has been expecting me. The dark haired, blue eyed beauty, smiles as I enter the diner.

  ‘Hey, sit where you like,’ she calls over from behind the counter.

  ‘Thank you,’ I all but collapse from hunger as I slide into the booth that sits against the front windows, which will permit me to observe the comings and goings of the town.

  ‘You Sophie?’ She checks, from beside me.

  ‘Yeah,’ I smile, ‘Marnie?’

  ‘Marnie,’ she grins. ‘I’m Ellie. Marnie gave me firm instructions to feed you up. How about some good old American pancakes, eggs, bacon?’ She tempts.

  My mouth is watering, ‘that sounds like heaven,’ I sigh, ‘thank you, Ellie.’

  ‘No problem, babe. Sorry about Ollie,’ she watches me carefully as she passes on her condolences. ‘There’s no doubting your DNA, you look just like him,’ she responds warmly. Ollie and I shared the same colour hair and eyes, from Mum.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whisper, my voice trembling. ‘You knew Ollie?’

  ‘Came in most days,’ she nods, ‘good man behind all the hurt,’ she comments, her gaze pensive.

  ‘The hurt?’ my attention is piqued.
r />   She brightens, ‘sorry I tend to speak without engaging my brain,’ she rolls her eyes.

  ‘Ellie,’ I call, ‘please, if you can give me any information on Ollie, I would truly appreciate it!’

  She looks uneasy, ‘it’s just, he always seemed to have the world on his shoulders, you know?’ She explains, ‘I’ll get your food,’ she smiles gently before turning to the kitchen.

  I sit running things over and over in my mind, trying to remember our recent conversations, recalling whether Ollie ever hinted at there being a problem, serious or otherwise, that could have led us being where we are now. I come up with nothing. If he had indeed had an issue, he kept it from me. Someone must know something, where are all his friends he spoke about, I wonder? I know he had a friend and colleague that worked with him in the salon, someone called Simon. Where is he now?

  Ellie lays down a plate before me, a huge oval plate that held a mountain of scrambled eggs, maple bacon, pancakes and a jug of maple syrup.

  ‘Oh, my!’ I gasp, as I take in the mountain of food in front of me.

  ‘Coffee?’ Ellie grins.

  ‘Could I be a total cliché and have tea?’ I wince, everyone knew us Brits loved a cuppa!

  Ellie giggles, ‘sure, Hun!’

  ‘Ellie, do you know Simon, who worked with Ollie?’ I query, while I have her attention.

  Her lips tighten slightly, ‘he’s disappeared off the face of the earth, apparently,’ she arches an eyebrow. ‘The cops are trying to get a hold on his whereabouts, so I hear.’

  ‘You knew him too?’ I question.

  ‘Yeah, Sophie.’ She provides me a look of confusion. ‘Everyone knows everyone in Krystal, did Ollie not tell you that?’ I shake my head, which amuses her somewhat, ‘good luck with that girl, if you think for one second the entire town hasn’t been informed of your arrival, believe it when I tell you, everyone in Krystal knows of your arrival.’

  ‘Was he and Ollie, close?’ I ask, ignoring the clenching of my stomach at the prospect of everyone staring, knowing what brought me to Krystal.

  ‘Unfortunately, yeah,’ she walks behind the counter and collects a cup and saucer, pours some boiling water from the drum kettle in a small stainless-steel teapot and picks up a couple of English Breakfast Tea bags. I pick up a piece of bacon and hum as I chew on it, savouring its maple taste.

  ‘He wasn’t a good fit for Ollie,’ she admits as she places the tea on the table beside me.

  ‘A good fit?’ I repeat, not understanding her meaning.

  The door swings open, and we are interrupted as my attention is taken by Detective Austin, accompanied by another man of equal size and hotness, only this one was a dirty blonde-haired beauty.

  Ellie turns, ‘Hey boys!’ she greets them brightly. ‘Enjoy your meal, Sophie,’ she smiles as she makes for the direction of the doorway.

  ‘Hey gorgeous,’ the blonde grabs Ellie around the waist and pulls her to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pushes provocatively against him.

  ‘Hey, baby,’ Ellie coo’s, sweetly. ‘I wondered when I was going to get my fix,’ she purrs up into his sparkling green eyes, and you can almost taste the desire that flares between them.

  ‘Hey!’ Detective Austin lifts his chin over to me from a stool set against the counter.

  ‘Hello,’ I mumble, avoiding his penetrating blue gaze.

  ‘Hungry?’ he continues, his eyes moving with amusement to the huge pile of food on my plate.

  ‘Yep!’ I affirm, preferring not to be drawn into conversation with him. Fuck if I don’t just want to eat in peace. I lift a forkful of egg to my mouth and chew it deliciously. I glance up to see him smile to himself as he helps himself to coffee from the pot set on a warmer on the counter. ‘El, I’m starving over here,’ he calls to Ellie.

  ‘Patience, brother!’ she scolds him, playfully. She’s his sister! Leaning up on her toes, she plants another kiss on the lips of the surfer blonde before turning to the kitchen. ‘What you boys, fancy?’

  I plough through the mound of food as I listen to the easy banter of Ellie and the two men. Now they are together the resemblance is clear. The semblance that Ollie and I once shared, suddenly my appetite diminishes, and I am no longer hungry as my gut tightens in loss. I gaze out of the window and sip my tea, zoning out of the activities of the diner.

  ‘You okay, Sophie?’ Ellie’s voice penetrates my preoccupation.

  ‘Sorry, yes, I was miles away,’ I mumble, apologetically.

  ‘I was calling you,’ she announces, ‘do you need anything else?’

  ‘No, I’m good Ellie, thank you. I’ll take the check, please,’ my gaze moves to the counter where the boys are finishing their sandwiches and coffee.

  ‘No need, this ones on me. Welcome to Krystal,’ she insists.

  ‘Oh no, I couldn’t, please,’ I frown, the woman hardly knows me, why would she give me a free meal?

  ‘You will soon get that there are pro’s, as well as cons to the small town, babe. Next one is on you,’ she smiles. ‘You fancy hitting the bar tonight?’ She asks, ‘do you good to meet some of the locals.’

  My stomach warms unexpectedly at her kind gesture, ‘I’m going to sleep off a bit more jet lag, tonight. But I appreciate the offer, Ellie,’ I throw a hefty tip on the table and grab my belongings, ‘maybe another time?’

  ‘Sure, tomorrow night is Karaoke?’ She tempts. ‘Me and my girls will be there, swing by and meet them all. Jessie’s bar on the main drag.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll pop by for a bit,’ I promise, ‘but I don’t do Karaoke,’ I warn her. It suddenly occurs to me that maybe I should talk to a few of the locals and find out more about Ollie and his life in Krystal. ‘What time do things warm up?’

  ‘I’ll be there from seven, I have a curfew to meet if I want to open up this place the following morning, but things go on into the early hours,’ she waves a hand flippantly.

  As I walk past the counter, a pair of incredible blue eyes burn into me, ‘See you, London!’ he calls, quietly.

  ‘Detective Austin,’ I respond smoothly, as I exit the diner, my heart pitter-pattering at the intensity of his gaze. Fuck, he is hot!

  ‘Tomorrow, Sophie!’ Ellie shouts out.

  ‘Tomorrow!’ I wave my hand in her direction.

  ********

  I wake at four a.m. and when I say wake, I mean there is not an ounce of sleep left in me, and I am laying frustrated in the darkness. I had submitted to tiredness and flopped into bed at eight thirty last night. Now, I see that was a huge mistake.

  Deciding to make the most of the time, I turn the light on and call through to Charley, in the London salon, who is, unfortunately, busy with a client. I chat for a while with Lulu, who is one of the stylists and ask her to get Charley to call me when she gets a moment.

  Leaving Charley in charge of my salon in Battersea Park was incredibly hard for me. She is more than competent, I wouldn’t have done it otherwise, but to hand over what is fundamentally my baby, is doing something that feels alien to me. Trusting. I find it incredibly hard to trust, especially with something as important to me as my business.

  It had taken me six years to build up the remarkable clientele that I currently have, business was booming, to the point I extended the shop into next door’s space when it became available. I took out a huge loan to renovate, which, due to the success of the new beauty therapy section, is almost repaid. Beauty was something that I decided to branch out into on first opening, a way to broaden my knowledge and clientele.

  Initially, I swore I would never touch the allowance from my father, as far as I was concerned, it was guilt money. I had reasoned that somewhere buried deep in his cold heart he must have experienced some degree of guilt for abandoning me as a newborn baby, with my maternal grandmother. An hour after my mum’s funeral, he sent me back to live in London with my mother’s family. The worst of it was that he chose to keep my brother, who was only five years old at the time, with him in New York.

/>   He justified his decision to split up the family by expressing to my grandma that he couldn’t contend with a newborn baby alone, not to mention a female one. Apparently, from what my Aunt Marie told me, he made it seem like he was doing my grandma a favour by leaving me in her capable hands. It would take the edge off the grief of losing her daughter, he told her.

  Consequently, that’s all I ever felt I was there for, to make everyone else feel better. I couldn’t grieve for someone I didn’t know, even if it was my mum. How the hell could I? My whole childhood I was weighed down with suppression. I couldn’t be me; I had to be the perfect granddaughter and, along with everyone else, keep my mum on a pedal stool.

  My grandma did her best to raise me, and on a lot of levels she succeeded, but there was always that feeling that I was replacing my mum, who died while giving birth to me. I can’t say I wasn’t loved, I was. But, I was brought up amongst the unspoken grief of a family who lost their daughter and sister. No matter how hard they tried, I knew I would never be enough to replace her.

  As for my relationship with my brother, it never stood a chance. We both knew we had a sibling, but Oliver wasn’t permitted to visit me in London, and I wasn’t invited to America to see either my father or Ollie. It wasn’t until four years ago that we finally managed to connect and decided to build a relationship between us.

  Both Oliver and I inherited our looks from my mum, me even more so, which for me was a curse. I knew that every time my grandma and grandad looked at me, sadness filled their gaze. I wanted nothing, materially, but emotionally I had profound issues.

  I never felt good enough, I always felt as if I was to blame for my mother’s death. The fact was, if I hadn’t been born, she would still be alive. When I looked into the eyes of her family, I saw the same deliberations within the measured depths of their gaze.

  When I finished school, I took an apprenticeship for hairdressing, initially to please mum’s family, as mum had also been a hairdresser. Although it started off as me doing what was expected of me, I had to admit that I genuinely loved to play around with hair and was glad that I followed the career path that I did, for whatever reason. To witness the delight in my grandma’s eyes when I notified her I was going to follow in her beloved daughter’s footsteps, was a bonus.