Cunning Attractions

by Christy Barritt

  But it was mostly gone. All of it.

  I still couldn’t believe it. No more impromptu talks with my neighbors. No more watching the crazy antics of the eclectic community around me. No more reminders of where it had all started for Riley and me. I held back my tears.

  Someone knocked on my window. I jerked my head toward the sound and saw Sharon. The owner of The Grounds had a personality as colorful as the community around us. She had more piercings than I could count, and constantly changed her hairstyle and color. Right now it was short and dark with purple highlights.

  As I rolled down my window, she slipped a cup of coffee inside. “I thought you might need this. It’s your favorite—a vanilla latte. Lattes always make everything better.”

  “Thanks . . . a latte.”

  “At least you still have your sense of humor.”

  “At least.” I allowed the drink to warm my hands. “How are you doing?”

  I glanced at The Grounds. Wood covered the windows. Someone had spray painted graffiti on one of the boards. A few pieces of broken glass glimmered on the sidewalk.

  “I have a crew inside working to restore everything,” Sharon said. “I hope to open again by the beginning of next week.”

  “That’s good.” Did she know that Tim might be responsible? I wasn’t going to ask. Not yet, at least.

  “How are you?”

  I shrugged. “I thought I was doing okay. But seeing this place now just makes reality kick in again.”

  “That’s understandable. It will take time. Can I do anything for you?”

  I thought about it a moment before shaking my head. “No, I don’t think so. Only if you can turn back time.”

  I almost launched into Cher’s song by the same name, but I stopped myself.

  “Well, you know where I am if you need me.” She tapped the car roof as she stood.

  “Thanks, Sharon.”

  Where would I ever find another place to live that was in walking distance of my favorite coffeehouse?

  I had to stop feeling sorry for myself, though. Enough was enough. There was a time to mourn and a time to move on.

  With that thought in mind, I put my car in drive and took off again. This time I headed toward Jerry Lewis’s place.

  I pulled up just as someone bounced out of a car in the driveway. I stopped a safe distance away, hoping Jerry’s guest wouldn’t see me. Then I watched carefully.

  My eyes widened when I recognized the person getting out.

  Sarah Babble.

  Sarah Babble? Was she stopping by to offer her condolences? Or would she confront the man because she heard he may have killed her best friend?

  I held my breath, waiting to see what would play out.

  To my surprise, Jerry stepped outside, strode across the sidewalk, and the two threw their arms around each other. Then they. . . kissed?

  I blinked.

  Was Jerry’s secret girlfriend Sarah Babble?

  Just when I thought I’d seen it all . . .

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I almost charged out of the car to confront the two lovebirds when my phone rang. I glanced down and saw that it was Garrett Mercer calling.

  I frowned, glanced back at the happy couple, and I knew I had to answer. Garrett was one of the few phone calls I knew without a doubt I had to take.

  “Gabby St. Claire, I saw you left a message for me. For what do I owe this honor?”

  I bit down as I remembered the main reason I’d called. How would I break the news to him? “I have bad news, Garrett.”

  “I know about the apartment building.”

  I sat in stunned silence. “You do?”

  “Yes, the fire department called me.”

  I swallowed hard as my thoughts flopped from one thing to another. “Did they tell you what happened?”

  “As far as I know, they still haven’t determined a cause. Did you hear differently?”

  My throat tightened. “No, that’s what I heard also. They only have theories at this point. How are you dealing with it?”

  I watched as Sarah and Jerry held hands. They walked over to his motorcycle and climbed on.

  I frowned, contemplating my options. Should I follow them? No, that wouldn’t give me any answers. I already figured they were dating. Following them would do no good and only waste my time.

  Garrett let out a chuckle. “Sweetie, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I was worried about you. How are you dealing with this?”

  Relief swept through me at his compassion and understanding. “I’m doing as well as can be expected. I’m sad, but I’m also grateful to be alive.”

  “I’m grateful you’re alive also. That’s the important thing. Buildings can be replaced. People cannot.”

  “You’re a good person, Garrett Mercer.”

  “Well, thank you. I take that as a compliment, especially coming from you.”

  I swallowed hard, fearing I might sound like I was taking advantage of him. That was the last thing I wanted. “Can I ask you another question?”

  “Of course. Anything. Unless it’s about that conversation I want to have with you.”

  That was right. He wanted to meet with me about something. Hopefully, it wasn’t about us.

  “I promise,” I said. “We’ll talk. I just need a little time to get myself together. I’ve been a little busy.”

  “Becoming an Internet sensation?” Humor laced his voice.

  I really hoped no one else had posted videos of me. I couldn’t handle anymore. “That was only once . . . right?”

  He chuckled. “As far as I know it was only once. I try not to Internet stalk you, though.”

  Whew! “Okay, I haven’t forgotten. I still want to talk. But I have another question in the meantime. I beg for forgiveness in advance if I’m overstepping my bounds. I do that frequently.”

  “Overstep away.”

  “I need to go to that fundraiser tomorrow night for Philip Munich.”

  “Munich, huh? I saw you as being more of a Stead supporter.”

  “I have not officially declared who I’m voting for, thank you. This is for . . .” How much did I tell him? I stared out the window in thought, noting that Jerry and Sarah were now long gone.

  “An investigation,” he finished.

  “Yes, an investigation. You know me too well.”

  He clucked his tongue. “Do you know how much tickets are per plate?”

  “I’m sure it’s a lot.” I should have never asked . . . except how could I not?

  “You can say that again. But I might be able to get some for you. I have some connections.” He didn’t sound taken aback at all. Thank goodness!

  “I’d be forever grateful. And I’ll pay you back.”

  “Remember that payback when I ask you for my favor.”

  “Your favor?” He hadn’t worded it that way at first. Now I really was curious.

  “Yes, a favor. Next week. Next week we’ll meet. I can’t wait any longer.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I hung up, more curious than ever.

  As I walked down the hallway toward my hotel room, I spotted Katarina exiting her accommodations. I planted myself in front of her before she could pass.

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  Her eyebrows flickered up in surprise, but she stopped and crossed her arms. “I busy.”

  “Where are you going? To the spa again?”

  She pursed her lips ever-so-slightly, and I knew I’d hit the nail on the head.

  “This can’t wait,” I continued. I realized I was using my mom voice, which was weird since I wasn’t a mom. I’d been aiming for my kick-butt crime-solver tone. I need to work on that more.

  “Fine. What you want?”

  “Why are you dating Bill?” I started with the basic and most pressing question.

  Her eyes widened as if I’d offended her. “Because I love him. Of course. What you saying?”

  I probably wasn’t going to get very far with that l
ine of questioning, so I switched to the next most pressing question. “You weren’t at the gala for the Harrison Group last week. Why did you lie?”

  Her eyes went from wide to narrow. “Why you think that? Of course, I at charity gala.”

  I moved aside as a bellhop passed with a brass cart in tow. “I called. You weren’t there. You’ve been lying, and I want to know why. I’m beginning to believe that you’re the one behind all the incidents around Bill.”

  She gasped. “I almost abducted. You think I do that to self?”

  “Maybe.”

  She gasped again, this time even bigger than last time. “Then you no smart.”

  “You knew one of the men who rescued you, didn’t you? The tall blonde.”

  “I have no idea what you talk about.” A family passed this time, but I barely budged. I feared if I gave Katarina too much room, she would run.

  “Then where were you when Emma Jean was murdered? You weren’t in Atlanta.”

  Katarina huffed. Looked away. Glanced at the floor.

  I waited for her to deny it again.

  “I here,” she said instead.

  I let that announcement settle over me. “What were you doing here, and why did you lie about it?”

  “I try to revitalize my career. I lose contract with Harrison. I want more jobs.”

  “So you lied?” I clarified.

  “You no understand how hard to get jobs at my age. I practically ancient.”

  “I thought Bill was paying your expenses?” Maybe I shouldn’t have gone there. But I did.

  “I like be my own woman.”

  Sadly, I believed her. She was a has-been catalog model having an identity crisis. Did that also mean she wasn’t guilty of any of this?

  I wasn’t done with the conversation yet. “Who was that man you met with last night?”

  She blinked, as if my question shocked her. “I answer enough questions. I done. No follow me anymore or I call police.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I had to work the next morning, but, thankfully, my training workshop was close by in Newport News. Instead of eating with the officers as I normally did for lunch, I decided to take my food and eat in my car alone. I just needed a minute to think.

  I took a deep breath as I sat there. The autumn sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow around me. My tuna salad sandwich didn’t seem very appetizing, and I really hoped I had a breath mint for later.

  My thoughts went to Tim. Detective Adams had called this morning and confirmed that the cause of an explosion was a meth lab in my apartment. Tim would be going to court soon, and my father hadn’t gotten him out on bail.

  Those thoughts only churned up my angst, though. I needed to think of something happier. Something like . . . this investigation.

  All along, I’d been trying to deny the fact that this could have anything to do with the presidential election. It seemed too big, too out of the normal scope of the crimes I investigated. But what if all of this did somehow center around the election?

  I sighed. Tonight was the fundraiser. Garrett had texted me earlier and said I had two tickets. Maybe I could discover something there. Maybe I could even decide for sure whom I was going to vote for. I thought my choice was clear, but lately I wasn’t so certain.

  My phone rang. I looked down and saw that it was Leona from church. Great. Had she somehow heard about yoga? I almost ignored the call, but I was too curious to do that.

  “Hi, Leona,” I started, keeping my voice upbeat.

  “Gabby.” Her voice sounded reserved. “I heard about your apartment. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Our Bible study group would like to throw you and Riley a shower. We intended to do one anyway since you got married. But we’re accelerating the process in light of what’s happened.”

  Surprise ricocheted through me. “That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

  A shower would help us rebuild. We still had nothing. No plates or silverware or towels even. I’d tried not to dwell on it too much because it felt overwhelming. I knew that one way or another it would all work out.

  “And I’m sorry about what happened at church on Sunday. My emotions got the best of me.”

  She’d apologized? I hadn’t expected that. “I appreciate the apology.”

  “But I still don’t think you should vote for Munich.”

  I finished my tuna sandwich and washed it down with a sip of water. “I never said I was.”

  “Just in case.”

  I smiled as I hung up. Well, at least that had happened. If nothing else good came from this evening, I could remember that Leona had apologized. Maybe good always would win over the ugly. We just had to give it time.

  That night, I showed up at the fundraiser dressed in my newly-purchased best. And I had the best-looking man in Virginia with me.

  I stepped out of Riley’s rental car and took his arm as we walked to the stairway of the parking garage. I paused by one vehicle, and my breath caught.

  “What is it?”

  “This is the vehicle driven by the person who tried to snatch Katarina at the mall, and the guy who followed us.”

  He stepped closer and peered inside. “I can’t see anything. It’s dark in here, but the insides look clean. I’m not sure how much you’re going to discover looking here.”

  “That means that whoever tried to abduct Katarina must be here tonight.”

  I took his arm as we continued toward the rally. But I no longer felt relaxed and relishing this moment. Instead, I glanced around, half-expecting someone to jump out and hijack this moment.

  We managed to get to the sidewalk outside without injury. It was already dark, and a strange fog had fallen over the street. Other guests were also exiting their vehicles and heading to the historic theater. It was normally a dinner theater, but tonight it would be transformed into a banquet hall.

  Inside, we were shown to our table. I soaked in the strings of lights hanging above us, setting a romantic, cozy atmosphere. There was a stage up front, and I had no doubt that’s where Munich would be seated. A stringed quartet played soothing music in the opposite corner.

  I wasn’t sure who everyone here was, but I’d guess they were wealthy business leaders, local politicians, and community movers and shakers. Several people stopped by our table and chatted with Riley. He knew more people in these circles than I did. I used the opportunity to let my gaze wander, looking for a sign of the person who’d been driving that dented SUV.

  Finally, I spotted some familiar faces. Starting with Godfrey. He mixed and mingled and even seemed to have a fan club.

  Go figure.

  Bill was also here, which was surprising since he didn’t like Munich. Katarina was at his side, like the trophy he wanted her to be. He also mixed and mingled.

  There was a lot of that going on. I needed to get more comfortable at circulating in these situations, but everything in me rebelled against the whole networking thing. I wanted to build relationships with people because I cared about them, not because of what they could do for me.

  My gaze caught on someone else in the distance: the older gentleman I’d seen Katarina with at the beach restaurant.

  I nudged Riley. “Do you know who that is?”

  His gaze followed mine. “That’s Walker Manning.”

  My eyes widened as realization hit me. “The media mogul? Really?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I saw Katarina meeting with him.”

  My gaze shot across the room again. Was that . . . Sarah Babble? Why would she be here? She was a carhop at a drive-in restaurant. I knew how much tickets to this event cost—I’d looked it up earlier to satisfy my curiosity. How could she afford it? Was Jerry with her? I didn’t see him.

  My thoughts continued to churn, turning things over and over.

  I was almost ready to try my hand at the whole being social thing, mostly so I could talk to Godfrey, Sarah, and Bill, when Garrett Mercer appeared at
the table. Handsome, rich, and charming Garrett Mercer with the incredible British accent.

  “Gabby, fancy seeing you here. You look lovely, as always.” He winked before turning to Riley. “Riley, you too. Congratulations, you two, on your marriage. I can’t think of two better people to end up together. Truly.”

  I released my breath. He knew! Thank goodness, he knew. That saved me having an awkward conversation with him later.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. I kept one eye on Garrett and the other on the rest of the room. I didn’t want to miss anything.

  Garrett leaned closer. “Look, I know we’re supposed to meet next week about that favor I mentioned to you. But I’m just going to throw my proposal out there to you now. I’m putting together a cold case team, and I want you to lead it.”

  I flinched, certain I hadn’t heard correctly. Of all the things I’d thought he might say, that wasn’t one of them. For a moment, I forgot about all the suspects I was supposed to keep my eye on. “What?”

  He nodded with a sly grin. “That’s right. It meant so much to me to have closure after the murder of my family. I want to do the same and help others, so I’m personally funding a cold case team to review unsolved cases that I’ve chosen. I want you to head it up. What do you say?”

  “I’m . . . I’m flattered.” Truly, I was.

  His intelligent gaze locked on mine. “I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m asking you because you’re good at what you do. You put your heart into it, and that’s what these families need: compassion and closure.”

  I glanced at Riley. He nodded with encouragement.

  “I . . . um, I’ll need to think about it.” I didn’t want to be too hasty.

  “There’s pay involved, and you get to pick your own team. Plus, you work on your timetable. You can continue to work your other job and do this on weekends or vacations.”

  “Wow. That sounds amazing.” Like, amazing amazing. What an opportunity.

  “So say yes.” Garrett’s eyes sparkled as he looked down at me.

  “I’d be a fool to answer without sleeping on it. But I’m very interested.”

  He smiled. “I thought you might say that. So sleep on it. Let me know tomorrow, okay?”