Murder at The Blues Stop

by Wendy Byrne

“By the looks of it, yep.” Shane rubbed his jaw. “Somehow, I lost the son of a bitch. He had to have a car waiting for him.”

  “Did you know there were two guys? One came upstairs, and I hit him over the head with a lamp.”

  Shane stopped and stared at me. “Did you see him leave?”

  “He ran out right before you and the other guy tumbled outside.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Young. Skinny. Kind of scruffy. Do you think the cop that threatened you hired somebody to do this?”

  “I get threats all the time. Normally, it’s bull. Besides, O’Brien’s a loser. He wouldn’t have the nerve. I just wish I knew what they were after. Maybe somebody wanted to screw with me.” He shrugged. “They must have stumbled on the extra key card in Cara’s desk in order to get upstairs into your apartment.”

  “How’d they get in to begin with?”

  He pointed toward the broken window in front. “Takes some balls to do something like that. Either that or they were high.”

  “At least they didn’t have guns.” I brushed my fingertips along his face. “You have a scrape on your cheek.”

  For the first time since he’d gotten there, Shane smiled. “You should see the other guy.”

  I tsked. “What are you going to do now?”

  I wanted him to call the police but couldn’t come right out and say it. He ignored my implication. “I’m going to get something to board up the window and call it a night.”

  I followed so close behind him when he went into the back storage room, I’d practically attached myself to him. “What do you think they wanted?”

  “I don’t know, but they wouldn’t have gotten much. Every night Cara sends any new data to a remote backup system, and I put the important stuff on my memory stick.”

  “Any hot cases you’re working on that somebody might want to see disappear?”

  “There are always somebody’s secrets you’re dredging up in this line of work. I guess it depends on how much they have to lose if I uncover the truth.”

  “When you put it that way, everybody’s a suspect.” I shrugged and looked around, oblivious to any thoughts tumbling through his brain. “Do you want me to help you clean this up?”

  “Naw, there’s only so much of you dressed in boxer shorts, a thin t-shirt, and no bra that I can take.” He laughed. “Besides, we both need to get some sleep. I’ll come back and help Cara in the morning. Get what you need for the night. You’re staying with me.”

  For once, I had no intention of arguing with him. While I’d like to think I could pretend to be brave and stay alone in the apartment upstairs, I had absolutely no intention of doing something that foolish. I didn’t want to be in that place by myself, even if it would be morning in another hour or two.

  I got into his car with the barest of necessities—toothbrush, hair brush, flip-flops, underwear, shorts, t-shirt, and my Florida Gators rain slicker.

  “I’ve had a rough couple of days.”

  He glanced at me. “Besides tonight?”

  “Yesterday I thought somebody followed me home from the club—”

  “What? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because the cabbie lost them. At least I’m pretty sure he did. And you were already being…ahem...difficult.” I huffed out a breath. “And then today I found Vanessa dead—okay, not quite dead—but for all the blood and all, I—”

  “Who the hell is Vanessa? And why am I just hearing about this now? Start from the beginning.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “When I got into the cab the other night, I kept seeing headlights shining into the back seat. Then the cabbie noticed it too. At first I thought it was you, trying to catch up with me to apologize for being an idiot about Patrick, but that would be a big giant...ah, hell to the no. Anyway, the cabbie lost whoever it was. And Vanessa, who I found bleeding in her apartment, was Annie’s sponsor.”

  I sucked in a breath and continued. “Donna had to leave because her son got hurt, so I tracked down Vanessa at her apartment. When I got there, she’d been stabbed, and her baby was screaming in the other room. Then I fainted. It was a total clusterfuck.”

  I couldn’t tell in the dark car, but I was pretty sure he rolled his eyes. “You called the police?”

  “Of course. I’m not police phobic like you. If you must know, that’s why Patrick came in tonight—to make sure I was all right, which was pretty darn sweet of him.”

  “Sweet? Yeah, right. And you didn’t tell me—”

  “Because as usual you were being Mr. Cranky Pants. But now that you’re being halfway civil, did you ever see Annie with a boyfriend?”

  “No, why?”

  “Her counselor said something about her hooking up with some stable older guy and that she thought Annie was clean. She was just as surprised as Donna that she went back to her old ways and overdosed.”

  “Addicts are good at fooling people. Relapse is part of the cycle.”

  “I get that, but…the whole thing seems weird. Nobody is buying that she went back to drugs. Even if she did, how do you explain her sponsor getting stabbed. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  He shook his head but didn’t say another word. Which worked out fine since it didn’t take more than ten minutes to get to his place. He pulled into a garage in back of a three-story brick building. From the look of things, the building was probably at least seventy years old, but even from a superficial in-the-dark once-over, it appeared immaculately kept. Then again, I would have expected as much from him.

  “Is that Lake Michigan over there?” He seemed distracted, and I itched to fill the silence. I never did well with long stretches of quiet.

  He nodded and put a key into the back door lock. “I live in Lincoln Park, a yuppie haven. It’s a mix of old and new buildings, with the lake and the park and zoo only a couple of blocks away. You haven’t been able to do much sightseeing since you’ve been here, have you?”

  “Not really.” Not that he’d offered. And not that I’d had a chance with all the drama going on.

  We walked up a flight of stairs to his door. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but what I saw was a blend of old and new. The arched doorways, high ceilings with intricate woodwork detail, and stained-glass windows were probably as old as the building itself. The kitchen was state-of-the-art modern with sleek black granite counters, stainless-steel appliances, and natural cherry cabinets.

  “Your place is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” After keying in a security code, he placed his keys on a hook, his wallet on a table, and walked toward the refrigerator. “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “I’d love a beer or wine, something to make me think I’ll get some sleep tonight.” The change from humid weather to his air-conditioned space made me break out in goose bumps. Without my bra, my nipples were like headlights under my t-shirt. I tried to cover them by folding my arms across my chest.

  “I don’t drink, but I do keep some beer in the fridge for company.” He pulled out a bottle, opening it with a twist, and set it on the counter. “You’re freezing. Let me get you a shirt. It will also camouflage the whole no-bra look.” He chuckled and walked into another room.

  I sat on one of the stainless-steel and leather stools at the granite breakfast bar. Taking a giant gulp of beer, I let the liquid travel through my body, hoping maybe it might help me forget all that had happened in the last couple of days. A few minutes later, Shane handed me a blue-and-black plaid flannel shirt, and I couldn’t think about his earlier words.

  “Sorry, it’s not Ralph Lauren, but it will keep you warm.” Even though he smiled, I could tell he was feeling awkward or preoccupied or a combination of both.

  “Thanks.” The softness of the fabric slid over my skin. That ocean breeze scent of Shane lingered in the shirt. “You don’t drink?”

  He shook his head and sat on the stool next to me. “Never cared much for it.” His short answer made me believe there was much m
ore to that story.

  “I don’t drink much either.” Despite my words, I finished the beer in one long slug. “Which explains why I’m already starting to feel a buzz.”

  He grinned before returning to his normally stern expression. “I’d understand if you wanted to leave town. I wouldn’t blame you. With everything that went on tonight, and considering Annie...and Vanessa...I won’t be a prick about it if you want out of your contract.”

  I touched his arm and wondered about the sudden rush of heat. Not five minutes ago I was freezing. “You just don’t want to share your place with me, do you?” Shane being nice and accommodating confused me.

  “You can’t stay back at the apartment until I know what’s going on.” As he spoke, his mind seemed a million miles away.

  “And you’re too cheap to put me up in a hotel,” I said to make things a little less serious. “But watch out, I kind of like it here. Close to the lake. Nice big apartment. Beautiful kitchen, even if I don’t cook.” An alarm system. Heck, I felt more comfortable than I had all day. “One more beer and I think I could fall asleep.”

  “Coming right up.” He got a beer, along with a bottled water for himself. “Here you go. But take it easy. I don’t want to have to carry you to bed.”

  In full-flirt mode, I touched the bicep peeking below the sleeve of his t-shirt. “I know I’m tall, but I don’t weigh very much. I think you could manage.”

  He smirked. “That’s not the problem. It’s what I’d be tempted to do afterward that might come back to bite us both in the ass.”

  I rubbed my hand over his as it rested on the counter. “Why Shane, are you saying you might possibly be attracted to me? ’Cause if you are, you are great at covering it up, except for that remark about me not wearing a bra. Just a heads-up. Women don’t wear bras while they’re sleeping.” Every nerve ending in my body kick-started. And it had nothing to do with fight or flight.

  He chuckled. “You’ve got to know you’re beautiful and sexy. Even in a t-shirt, boxers, and my flannel shirt, you’re sexier than most women stark naked.”

  I flushed and gulped at my beer, which didn’t help matters. It only made me feel dizzy on top of everything else.

  “Then you wouldn’t mind if I tried something out.”

  “What—”

  I didn’t let him finish because if I had, I would have lost my nerve. Quickly, I moved my head toward his and kissed him. I’d been itching to do that since the first time I’d seen him.

  Before I knew what was happening, he yanked me off the stool in one fluid move and pressed me against the counter with his body. His hands wound around my back and held tight.

  Just as I thought there was definitely a horizontal tango in my future, he pulled back. Even though only six inches or so separated us, that was a lot more room than I wanted right now. He peered at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Was it my beer breath?” This close, his eyes were unbelievable—clear and blue and positively hypnotizing.

  Shane laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. “One of us has to be the voice of reason.”

  “Why?” It was a logical question and one I couldn’t seem to think of an answer for.

  “I can think of a million reasons. You’ll only be in town another couple of weeks. Technically, I’m your boss, even if you don’t believe anybody can tell you what to do...” His voice trailed off. While I could tell he wanted to say more, he didn’t.

  “That’s the beauty of it. I will be leaving town soon. Isn’t that how you like things? No way to get emotionally entangled.” I chewed on my fingernail as if trying to conjure up our discussion from a few days ago, when in fact, I practically knew his script by heart. “All you’re looking for is the occasional night of straight-up, no-commitment sex. Isn’t that what this would be?”

  I couldn’t believe I’d said that, practically begged him to have sex with me. Somehow, I’d morphed from a clothes slut into a plain old slut.

  I didn’t know how to explain how I felt other than to say it was like my body was itching from the inside out. A ‘Shane rash’ had invaded me, and I didn’t know how to get rid of it except for the obvious. Chalk it up to a case of his aloofness coupled with his lack of emotion and his take-no-prisoners control. My hormones perked up ready and willing. The guys who showed zero interest in me I was most attracted to. Sort of like the old forbidden fruit analogy.

  His lips inched up as if suppressing a grin. “Despite your tempting offer, I don’t think anything between us could ever be simple. Why muddy a perfectly bad relationship with hot, steamy monkey sex?”

  I erupted into a giggle. “When you put it that way...hmmm...it would get kind of complicated back on the job, you being all surly, with me knowing the whole time I’d seen your junk.” I shook my head. “That couldn’t be good.”

  For the second time in five minutes, he laughed. “And I certainly wouldn’t want to think about sucking on interesting places on your amazing body when you’re complaining about no maid service or no music or whatever is on your bitch list for the day.”

  Despite the fact my whole body nearly erupted into flames at the visual he presented, I managed to shake my head. “Couldn’t have that.” But I wanted so badly to jump his bones at that very second and worry about the rest later.

  “So we’re agreed. No sex.”

  “Right. No sex.” While my mouth formed the words, my traitorous hormones waged a war inside. A chorus of ‘jump him, jump him, jump him’ pulsed between my legs and spread through my nervous system.

  “Good.” He hitched back onto the barstool. “Now tell me why you really left Florida.”

  In my hormonally driven state, it took me a few minutes to realize he’d asked me a question. Once I yanked my focus off developing a plan on how I could seduce him without reneging on our agreement, I concentrated on his question.

  “After college, I started singing. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” My heart still rat-a-tat-tatted in my chest, and it took supreme effort not to lose focus.

  “Why college then?”

  “My mother insisted. And I complied, with only a little whining along the way.”

  “I’m sure.” He smiled and took a sip of water.

  “After schlepping around looking for work on my own, I figured out I needed a manager. So I hooked up with Max.” I drew in a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s really very boring.”

  “I’m fascinated.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “At the time I thought, ‘This is great. I get to do what I want, and somebody else does all the dirty work for me.’”

  “I sense a but coming here.”

  “Exactly.” I might as well lay all my cards out on the table—or at least most of them anyway. Some things were better left unsaid. “You might not know this about me because I keep it well hidden, but I’m kind of naïve. My brother tried to warn me about Max, but I didn’t listen. Did I mention I’m also stubborn?”

  “Were you involved with Max?”

  I nodded, feeling a hint of the old shame resurface. “Not at first. But let’s say Max was screwing me over in more ways than one by the end. My brother found out that not only was Max cheating me professionally, but he was married with two kids and a third on the way. Let me go on record as saying that it burns me to know my brother figured it out before I did.”

  “Were you in love with Max?”

  I shook my head, realizing at that very moment that it was shame, regret, and disappointment I mostly felt. There had been companionship but never love between me and Max. “No. But we spent a lot of time together. Things kind of evolved.”

  “If you fired your manager, how did you get the gig at The Blues Stop?”

  “I made the call pretending to be my booking manager. At the time, I wanted to get as far away from my family as I could since they’ve got this weird notion they have to protect me from myself.”

  Although I gave him the opening to probe further,
for some reason he didn’t. “Why Chicago?”

  “It was the one place I could count on to be alone without family interference. If I’d stayed in Florida or even in a state close by, there’d be a cousin, aunt, uncle, somebody asked to keep an eye on me.”

  “You don’t seem to be the type who needs watching.”

  “Tell that to my family.”

  ***

  Despite the strange environment and all the craziness last night, I’d slept in. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the spare bedroom he’d put me in was outfitted with a comfy queen-sized bed with high-quality cotton sheets.

  By the time Shane came to pick me up so I could get ready, it was close to one o’clock. The dreary weather from early morning had continued, and I’d put on my Florida Gators slicker over my shorts and t-shirt.

  Shane was suspiciously quiet on the ride over, but then again, after last night when I’d thrown myself at him, he probably feared I might jump him any second. Every time I thought about it, an embarrassed flush ran through me.

  Spotting Cara inside the office, I stopped briefly to see how the cleanup process was going. After taking off my coat and hanging it on the hook, I helped her sort through some of the remaining mess.

  “I heard you spent the night with the boss.” Cara’s eyes twinkled as she smiled. “He tells me you slept in his guest room, but I’m not sure I believe him.”

  “Believe it. But he let down his guard a bit as evidenced by the fact that he actually laughed last night. Of course, it was at my expense, but nonetheless…” I shrugged, feeling the blush crawl up my neck.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Gabriella, I like you. But I swear to God if you hurt that man, I’m going to have to cause you some bodily harm.”

  In some ways it seemed ironic to think this young, petite thing felt a need to protect Shane O’Neil. But I couldn’t help thinking about the man who brought out such fierce loyalty. For the first time I understood it. Shane was a good person. His delivery most times lacked the necessary finesse.

  “No need to worry. We talked it all out last night and decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to get physically involved.” At least one of us thought that.