by CP Smith
“Taft is outside the buildin’ when Stutter is brought out, askin’ me questions. Bein’ a typical reporter.”
“Your apartment was broken into, and your computer searched, so we’ll assume that was Taft diggin’ for a story.”
“Or he was keepin’ tabs on me for Armstrong.”
“Doesn’t fit. You hadn’t made your move yet.”
“Not true. It was crystal clear to her aunts I was interested that first night, which they relayed to Eunice’s boyfriend. Calla told me Armstrong had been blackmailin’ him to keep an eye on things, so Armstrong knew about me before we ever found Stutter.”
“So he sends Taft to follow you around, and he watches from a distance, sees what’s clear to anyone watchin’ that you’re drawn to each other.”
“Right,” Devin said, and he began to pace. “Armstrong orders Taft to keep an eye on us, probably follows me hopin’ to get pictures he can use to discredit me in Calla’s eyes. By now he knows we’re together, because Jones is there when I come home and he threatens me.”
“So Armstrong has your brake lines cut by Taft to get rid of you, and then what?”
“Jones probably confided in his mentor about Maria, so Armstrong reached out to Yoo to get rid of Taft while he and Jones were in a meetin’ lookin’ innocent as a newborn babe.”
Strawn grinned. “It fits.”
“Yeah, it fits.
“We’ll know for sure within the hour. Tech guys are viewin’ the footage from the parkin’ garage and inside the hotel. Bad news is, Armstrong is now aware that we’re lookin’ at him and Jones for Taft. His attorney is on the phone right now with my captain, so if the footage doesn’t show anything, we’ve got nothin’ unless Yoo talks.”
“Then break her,” Devin bit out.
“She won’t say a word. Asked for an attorney, and we’re still waitin’ for him to arrive.”
“Bo, I need somethin’ to go on. I can’t protect Calla if I don’t know where the threat is comin’ from. If her grandfather is innocent and this is all on Jones, I can live with that, but you’ve got to break that woman now.”
“Agreed. But my hands are tied until her attorney arrives.”
“Play her the tape,” Devin said. “Play it then tell her you’re bringin’ Jones in.”
“Before her attorney gets here? I need this case ironclad tight.”
“Then take the phone in with you and lay it on the table where she can see it. Let her own imagination takeover.”
Strawn held Devin’s glare for a moment then replied, “Fine, but you’re stayin’ clear of the room. I don’t need any more holes in walls.”
Devin looked at the wall and sighed. “Tell your captain I’ll fix the damn wall when these assholes are behind bars.”
Strawn clapped him on the arm and they exited the room. Devin waited at Strawn’s desk while he retrieved the phone from evidence. Ten minutes later, he watched as Strawn escorted Yoo into an interrogation room, and it was the first time since he’d left the force that he wished he still had his badge. He would have given anything to be in that room.
Five minutes passed into thirty while Devin drank old coffee and paced. An older man in a cheap suit arrived while he waited, asking to see Yoo, so he stopped pacing and watched as he entered the interrogation room.
Showtime. The public defender had finally arrived. He’d give it fifteen minutes tops before Strawn came out with an arrest warrant for Jones and Armstrong. Yoo was too emotional to keep quiet. The minute she thought she was going down, her attorney wouldn’t be able to stop her from running off at the mouth.
Like clockwork, thirteen minutes later the door opened and Strawn exited. But the look on his face spelled trouble.
“What?” Devin asked as he approached.
“Tech boys called, and the footage confirms both Armstrong and Jones were in Savannah. They couldn’t have done Taft.”
“And Yoo? What does she have to say?”
“She’s singing like a canary. Jones’ goose is cooked. She did Billy Ray and he handled Maria. They finished him off when Maria stabbed him in self-defense. They knew the only way to keep Maria quiet was to kill her, and with arms dealers involved they didn’t want loose ends.”
“So it’s like we thought. They were runnin’ guns?”
“Yeah. Just as we thought. These guys are bad news according to Yoo, so that’s why they finished off Stutter. They weren’t sure he was gonna make it and didn’t want to chance him talkin’ while under the influence of medication, so they took the decision out of God’s hands if he lived or died.”
“So she did Taft for Armstrong to cover his tracks?”
Strawn waited a beat then dropped the bomb.
“Yoo insists she doesn’t have a clue who Taft is or who killed him. Insists she’s never had contact with Preston Armstrong and wouldn’t have dealt with Jones if Stutter hadn’t brought him in. And the fuck of it is, I believe her.”
“Then who the fuck killed Taft?” Devin hissed.
“My guess? Whoever’s usin’ you for target practice.”
Thirteen
The End is Nigh
SIX DAYS AGO, I had a normal yet admittedly boring life. Six days ago, I had a job I loved, a home that was just the way I wanted it, and grandparents, admittedly not your typical grandparents, who I foolishly thought gave a damn about me. Six days ago, I was also oblivious to the kind of evil that lurked in the hearts of others. But all that had changed.
Five days ago, I’d seized the day and allowed fate to lead me rather than close myself off from love and friendship. I’d grabbed hold with both hands to a future I desperately wanted, determined to navigate this new life as I stepped from the ruins of my past.
They say the grass is always greener on the other side, but when you get there, you’ll find that your own grass was just as vibrant if not more so than what you strove to find.
They’re wrong.
Sometimes the grass is greener, the flowers sweeter, and the hearth brighter than anything you could have imagined, and your heart truly beats with wild abandon for the first time in your life.
I’d found that by stepping out of my comfort zone and into the arms of a man who made me feel emotions I never had, made me want things I never had, made me want him in a way that scared me—and someone was trying to kill him.
And that someone might be my grandfather.
Pretending to have a headache, I went upstairs after Devin left. I couldn’t stop thinking about the bricks exploding beside his head and knew I would break down in front of my aunts if I didn’t hide.
Wearing a path in my carpet, I replayed the moment mortar burst into dust, filling my eyes with the debris. If Devin hadn’t leaned down to kiss me . . . I shuddered at the thought and wrapped my arms around my body.
“How do I stop him?” I mumbled, pacing back and forth. “I can’t lose Devin. He’s mine. I won’t allow anyone to take him from me.”
Pounding on my door stopped me in my tracks, and I called out, “I’m fine, Aunties. I just need to rest.”
I couldn’t talk to them now. I was too upset and afraid I’d let slip what happened. As much as Eunice and Bernice loathed their father, I knew that, just like me, they had held out hope he might change. Knowing what he was truly capable of would kill them.
“Cali, it’s Poppy and Sienna.”
I rushed to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. “What are you doin’ here?” I asked as the tears I’d been holding onto began to fall. I’d left them on the street, walked away from them just like I had Devin. I thought they’d gone back to work.
They stepped forward and drew me into a group hug. “Wallflowers stick together through thick and thin and never leave a Wallflower behind,” Poppy whispered. “We watched to make sure Devin found you and then saw him bring you back here.”
“My life’s a mess,” I hiccupped. “My grandfather is more than likely involved in Maria’s murder, which will kill my aunts; and someone took
a shot at Devin while we were on the street, and I’m afraid that was my grandfather, too. I have to figure out how to stop him before somethin’ happens to Devin. I can’t lose him.”
Sienna took my hand and led me to my couch, while Poppy went to my kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with water. She was halfway to me, the drink sloshing in her hand, when she stopped short and gasped. “Holy cow, you really are Honoria.”
“That was fiction, this is not. Real life doesn’t always have a Happily Ever After.”
“Yeah, but think about it for a minute. If your grandfather is behind this, then set a trap for him.”
It hit me then what she meant.
“I doubt my grandfather is the one actually pullin’ the trigger,” I pointed out. “If he’s involved, then it’s more likely Jessie is the shooter.”
“It still works, Cali. You could tell your grandfather you and Devin are goin’ someplace or let slip that Devin is somewhere he isn’t, and we could watch from a distance and see who shows up. If no one shows, then you’ll know that it isn’t your grandfather.”
I bit my lip and looked at Sienna to see what she thought.
She thought we were nuts.
“You’re both nuts!” she bit out. “There is someone shootin’ at people, and you want to draw him out and put a target on your own head?”
I looked at Poppy. “She kinda has a point.”
Poppy sighed, walked over to my bookshelf, and started rifling through the titles. “There ought to be some way to use all these books we read to our advantage.”
She started pulling out one book after another.
“Deception?”
“Too messy,” I pointed out.
“Raven’s Song.” She held it up.
“Do you own a sabre?” Sienna asked.
“Good point,” she mumbled.
Pulling another book from the shelf, she turned to us with enthusiasm, “To Lie To Cheat To Steal?” She looked hopefully at us both.
“Possible,” I said, “if it weren’t for the fact that I’d have to seduce Jessie to get a confession out of him.”
“Another excellent point.”
“Tryin’ to catch them in a scheme is too complicated. Why don’t you ask your grandparents’ housekeeper? They know everything that’s goin’ on inside a house. Why not call her and ask if Jessie was at home at the time of the shootin’?” Sienna threw out.
I jumped from the couch. “You’re a genius,” I cried out and dashed for my phone.
Douglas picked up on the second ring, and I asked to speak to Debra, the current housekeeper. She was a middle-aged woman who’d been with my grandparents for five years, and baked the best oatmeal cookies I’d ever tasted.
“Miss Calla?” she answered.
“Debra, I don’t have much time, so I’m gonna be direct. Has Jessie been with my grandfather all day?”
“Yes. He’s in the driveway now polishin’ the limo.”
Hope surged at the possibility.
“Did they leave at any time today?”
“No, miss. Your grandfather’s been here all day.” She paused for a moment, then whispered, “His attorney came here early this mornin’ and told him he had to prove his whereabouts last night. Somethin’ about a man who was murdered. Your grandfather was in such a fit, he hasn’t left his office since.”
I sank to my couch in relief. “Thank you, Debra. You don’t know . . . you don’t know how much this means to me.”
I hung up and looked at the girls.
“Well?” Poppy asked.
“He’s been home all mornin’. Jessie, too. They couldn’t have been the ones who shot at Devin.”
My bottom lip began to tremble. My grandfather was at least a known enemy. How do you stop someone when you have no clue who they are?
“This is good news, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Yes. But that still leaves the question, who is shooting at Devin?”
“Right,” Poppy mumbled. “There is that.”
Sienna stood and grabbed my hand, pulling me from the couch. “What we need is coffee and fresh air so we can think.”
“I promised Devin I wouldn’t leave.”
“The courtyard is fresh air. That wouldn’t be leavin’.”
“Good point. We can get coffee in the store.”
We headed downstairs and waved at my aunts as we walked into the kitchen. The pot was empty, so I pulled out a filter and began making a new one.
“This will only take a minute. Go on to the courtyard, and I’ll bring the coffee out when it’s done.”
Poppy snagged a biscone on her way out, then stopped and grabbed another with a grin, while I pulled down mugs then headed to the front to check on my aunts.
“The girls and I are havin’ coffee out in the courtyard. Do you want any?”
Eunice was up on a ladder changing out a mannequin, and she shook her head no. “I won’t sleep tonight if I drink it after three. Is your headache better, butterbean?”
“Yeah, I’m much better now.”
Better because my grandfather wasn’t a killer.
“Where’s Bernice?”
“She went out front mumblin’ somethin’ about trollops in high heels.”
I moved to the front window and looked out. Bernice wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
“Did she say where?”
“I didn’t ask, she didn’t say. She just mumbled somethin’ about trollops and ‘not on my watch.’”
I opened the door and stepped out. Tourists were everywhere, but no Bernice. I started to turn to head back inside when I noticed the door to Devin’s office wasn’t completely closed. I moved to it and pushed it open, assuming Bernice had gone inside.
My eyes had to adjust in the dark room, but when they did, I gasped and ran forward, falling to my knees next to my aunt’s lifeless body.
“Bernice!” I cried out as I rolled her to her side. She had a knot on her forehead and blood seeped from a wound. I started to get to my feet, needing my phone so I could call 911, when pain exploded at the back of my head. I dropped to my knees, grabbing my head, and felt someone move in behind me.
“Pity,” a woman’s voice whispered. “I had no intention of killin’ you, only Devin.”
Fear slithered down my spine, and I slowly turned my head and looked up into brown eyes I knew. Eyes that now held a hint of evil.
“Gayla? You’re the shooter?”
Gayla Brown was one of Poe’s copy editors and a woman most likely to die of a sexual disease. Her tales about her sexual conquests were legendary around the office. She dressed to be noticed and she was. She had long, blonde hair, a tiny waist, and breasts that pushed the limits of any blouse she wore. And apparently, she was just this side of crazy.
“You know, I find it ironic that when Poppy and Sienna came to me for advice on what to wear for a night out huntin’ men, I unknowingly dressed you to catch the one man who destroyed my life.”
What the hell?
“I don’t understand? How do you even know Devin?” I asked.
She actually pulled up a chair and sat down on it, crossing her legs and adjusting her short skirt as if she had all the time in the world.
I looked at the door to see if I could reach it before she got to me, but the gun she picked up from Devin’s desk and pointed at me scratched that idea off my list.
“I was a beat reporter in Atlanta. A damn good one, too,” she began as if retelling a fond memory. “I met Devin on a murder investigation. He gave me that look that said he wanted to do more than be interviewed and I, of course, was more than willing to . . . partake in the fruits of his loins.”
My stomach recoiled at the thought of Devin in this woman’s bed.
“Anyhow, I played the coy game that women and men play, even wrote a sterling op-ed on him to further his career, but he played hard to get. After a time, I got tired of the games, so I waited for him to come home one night, and do you know what he did?”
>
I shook my head.
“He had me arrested.”
I waited for the punch line, the heinous act Devin had committed, but she just sat there, her head cocked at an angle, and her eyes were just this side of wild, like she was waiting for my response. And since she was nuts and holding a gun, I said, “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that.”
“I lost everything because of him. My job, my reputation. I had to change my name just to get a job. Then I wake up Monday morning and there he was splashed across the front page like a conquering hero. I can’t even use my real name because of him.”
She was getting more worked up as she spoke, waving the gun around like an extension of her hand, so I looked around for something to use as a weapon.
“He wanted me,” she hissed, continuing with her tirade. “I could see it in his eyes.”
I felt something move across my leg as she carried on about how they were meant to be together, so I chanced a glance at Bernice and saw that her eyes were open. They darted down toward my leg, so I followed their path and saw her cell phone. I shook my head slightly, telling her not to move. In the dim light, Gayla would see the glow, and I couldn’t risk it. Not with a gun in her hand.
“So now what?” I asked to distract her from Bernice. “Are we gonna sit here until Devin comes back so you can shoot him?”
Please say yes. We just needed time for one of the girls to come looking for us. They’d call Devin, and then he’d ride in on his Harley and kick her ass.
“Wait? No, I don’t think so,” she replied, and my heart plummeted. “Now that I’ve had my trip down memory lane, I have a much better idea. He took my life from me, so it’s tit for tat. Get to your feet,” she ordered, standing herself, pointing the gun at my head.
I looked down at Bernice then back at Gayla. “Why? What are you gonna do?”
“It occurred to me that livin’ the rest of his life knowin’ he’s the reason you died is a much better punishment. He’ll be in a prison cell of his own makin’, and know what it’s like to be me.”
✿✿✿