by Quinn, Lucy
When it spilled over onto her chest she stared in horror as reality slapped her in the face. Dora wasn’t the one dying. When Steve’s eyes went blank, she didn’t need to check to know what she’d done. She’d killed Steve!
Even though the third floor had been soundproofed to keep the restaurant noise from interfering with work in the offices, Dora couldn’t be certain the sound of the gun hadn’t been heard somewhere below. Marco Franklin was not the kind of guy to listen to excuses before acting, and if he found his father lying on the floor in a pool of blood while Dora was still there, she really would be dead. She needed to get out of there. Fast.
People say you never know how you’re going to react in an emergency situation, but anyone who knew Dora would have bet money she was the type of woman who would freeze. They would have lost that bet, though, because she hopped up and sprang into action.
She grabbed the extra outfit she kept hanging behind her door. Without giving it a second thought, she quickly stripped out of her bloodstained clothes and into a travel-friendly shift dress and another pair of flats. Gathering her discarded clothes, she rolled them into a ball and shoved them into the tote bag she carried every day before she left her office.
She jogged down the stairs and exited the building still on autopilot, and it wasn’t until she was behind the wheel of her Toyota sedan that she began to shake. Dora knew she was in shock, but the fear that an entire restaurant had heard a gun go off and that Steve’s body might have been found by now was a powerful motivator, and it kept the adrenaline rushing through her veins long enough for her to drive home.
When she got inside her rental, locked the doors, and closed all the blinds, Dora allowed herself to fall apart. She went to her kitchen in search of the bottle of wine she kept in the fridge but didn’t manage to open the door. Instead she turned her back to it, leaned on the cold metal surface, and slithered down to the floor as her sobs finally escaped.
Chapter 4
Dora wasn’t sure how long she cried, but her burning eyes and mucus dripping from her nose finally forced her need for cleanliness to kick into gear. She got up from the kitchen floor in search of a tissue and began to process what she’d done. The financial information she’d uncovered definitely pointed to a money laundering scheme which she now knew both Steve and Marco were involved in. And considering Steve had jammed a gun in her side, she was pretty sure he would have killed her if she hadn’t—
Dora’s stomach clenched hard, and she barely made it to the bathroom to vomit up the entire contents. The tile floor was cold under her knees as she sat back and tried to think of what she should do. Lindy knew Dora had been in the office with an angry Steve just moments before the gunshot. And it wouldn’t take a genius to know Dora was there when it happened. She had to turn herself in.
But she’d fled the scene, and anyone who had been raised on TV knew that was a darn good sign of guilt. Even worse, she was Two to Mango’s accountant. When the truth came out about the money laundering scheme, who would ever believe she didn’t know about it?
She chuckled dryly to herself as she stood up to brush her teeth. She’d underestimated Marco as a man who was so concerned with appearances that he didn’t have brainpower to devote to his business. Apparently, he was far cleverer than she’d imagined, because he’d managed to run his scheme right under her nose.
Even though she looked guilty, Dora knew in her heart she had to go to the police.
Hello! The police, Dora thought as she hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. Dora’s next-door neighbor, Brian, was a policeman. Even though he was almost two decades older than she, they’d become good friends over the years. They collected each other’s mail when one went away, had shared a vegetable garden one year until they’d both realized neither had a green thumb, and even exchanged romance-gone-wrong stories over a few beers more than once. Brian was a man Dora could trust.
She grimaced as her empty stomach rolled again when she had to dig past her blood-soaked clothing to find her phone, and she called Brian to ask for his help.
It was less than a minute before Brian let himself in through her back door with a bottle of her favorite wine his hand. The moment Dora saw him she burst into tears, and he opened up his arms to her. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you just cry as long as you need to before saying a word.”
Dora wanted to let the kind man’s embrace comfort her, but the truth was that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Since she didn’t have many tears left, she managed to control herself after a few moments and stepped out of Brian’s embrace to whisper, “I killed someone.”
His eyes widened slightly before he said, “Damn. This calls for whiskey.” He walked into her kitchen, put the wine down on the counter, and reached into the cabinet over the fridge for the hard stuff.
“Brian?” Dora asked in disbelief at his calm reaction. “Did you hear what I said?”
Two glasses thumped onto the counter as he retrieved them. “You think you killed someone.”
“Not think. I did!”
Brian gestured for Dora to take a seat at the kitchen table and handed her a glass of amber liquid. “Drink this and then you can tell me what happened.”
The whiskey sloshed in her glass as Dora raised a shaky hand to take a sip, and after a hefty amount of alcohol burned its way down her throat, she relayed the entire story to him.
When she was done Brian got up and opened up the drawer where she kept plastic bags and pulled one out. He put it over his hand like a glove and grabbed her tote bag. “These the clothes?”
She nodded.
He rummaged through the bag as he said, “I’ll take care of them, but Dora, you need to listen very carefully to me.”
Brian’s serious tone scared her, and Dora said, “Okay.”
“I want you to pack a bag, and I’ll drop you at Evie’s house to hide. If the police come looking for you, do not let them know you’re there.”
“I don’t understand. Why would I hide from the police?”
Brian let out a sigh with a pained expression. “The force is full of corruption right now, and from what you’ve told me, I’m worried the Franklin scheme might be bigger than we know. You’re going to hide out at Evie’s until the thumb drive arrives. Call me the minute it does, and I’ll get you to a safe house. I’m going over to the restaurant to get the security tape footage that will prove your innocence. I don’t trust it will get into the right hands, and I want to make sure what really happened doesn’t get erased.”
Dora’s heart stopped when it occurred to her the tape wasn’t the only thing Marco would want to erase. She picked up her glass of whiskey and downed the contents. Tears burned in her eyes, but they weren’t from the drink. Dora had a sinking feeling that life as she knew it was going to be forever changed.
“Dora!” Evie called as she heard her best friend open the front door of her cottage and close it again. She carefully set the margarita glasses out, and added, “I hope you brought the big bottle of tequila. It’s been one heck of a day.”
Footsteps sounded on the tile floor of Evie’s small cottage as Dora made her way through the house.
“You won’t believe what happened,” Evie continued as she dumped a generous helping of tequila into a shaker. “You know who Nancy Lemon is, right? Lemon Fashions? Anyway, she came in today and was not pleased with my unsolicited advice, and—” Evie, who’d just turned around and spotted a white-faced Dora, stopped mid-sentence, her insides turning cold with trepidation. Dora was the steadiest person she knew. Her best friend never let anything get to her, but in that moment, Dora looked like she’d just seen a ghost. “What happened?”
One lone tear rolled down Dora’s face, and her bottom lip quivered as she whispered, “It’s Steve… he… I...” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.
“What?” Evie blinked at Dora, her ire up. “What did that jackhole do to you? Please tell me you kicked him in the nads. Did he get handsy?” St
eve had always given Evie the creeps.
Dora slowly shook her head, her mouth working but no words escaping her lips. The faint tap, tap, tap of dog nails on the tile filled the silence as Sunshine, Evie’s dog, trotted into the room. The little bichon ran up to Dora and jumped on her leg, desperate for attention. Dora glanced down at the little dog for just a moment and snapped out of her horrified trance. But instead of picking up the dog as she usually would, she ran over to the kitchen window and quickly lowered the blinds. “Help me close all of the blinds, Evie,” she ordered as she ran to the dining room and started yanking on the cord to lower the blinds on the French doors. “I can’t be seen here. It’s too dangerous for both of us.”
“Whoa, Dora. Come on. Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little?” But even as she asked the question, she helped Dora get the windows covered. If it was important to Dora to sit in the dark after whatever happened with her boss, Evie was down for it. She’d do whatever Dora needed. Ride or die. Dora and Evie were besties for life.
Dora paused before disappearing into the living room and turned sad eyes on Evie. “I wish I was, honey. But I…” The words got caught in her throat and she just shook her head and hurried into the other room.
Not sure what else to do, Evie ran into her bedroom, where the blinds were already closed, and grabbed a handful of candles out of the drawer that housed all of her date-night supplies. After searching through a handful of condoms, lube, and silk ties, she finally found the lighter that was hiding in the back. A small smile played on her lips as she recalled the month before when her on-again, off-again boyfriend Trace had gotten really creative with the red silk and melted caramel. Who knew that caramel was better than candle wax?
“Evie?” Dora’s frantic voice called from the other room. “I think someone’s watching the house.”
Evie slammed the drawer shut and ran into the other room to find Dora peeking out through the blinds, one hand pressed to her throat. “What do you mean someone is watching the house? Why would they do that? Because you kneed your boss where the sun don’t shine? Wait. Knowing him it might have considering he went to—"
“Evie! I didn’t knee him, I killed him. And now people are looking for me.” Dora’s eyes were wild, and she turned a putrid shade of green.
The candles landed with a thud on the coffee table where Evie dropped them, followed up by a softer thud when one rolled off and hit the floor. Her eyes went wide as her friend’s words started to sink in. “You did what? You can’t be serious.”
Another tear rolled down Dora’s cheek as she just nodded and turned her attention to the window again. Her shoulders sagged as she let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, thank goodness. I think the person outside is your neighbor. He just disappeared into his house.”
Evie blinked at her, trying to keep up. “Long black hair? Tattoos covering both arms? Hotter than Trace’s spicy martini? I swear if I wasn’t already dating a rock star—”
“That’s him.” Dora sank into the couch and sucked in deep breaths.
Evie shoved some candles aside and sat on the coffee table in front of Dora, leaning down to pick up Sunshine. She needed the soft pooch to settle her rattled nerves. She looked her best friend in the eye and said, “Tell me everything.”
Dora stared at the little dog and started to talk. She filled Evie in on how she’d broken into Marco’s computer, uncovered a money laundering scheme, and how she’d been confronted and threatened by Steve. “That’s when he pulled his gun on me.”
Evie let out a gasp. “No!”
“Yes.” Dora took Sunshine out of Evie’s hands and cuddled the dog tight to her chest. “We fought. The gun went off. He’s dead, and I was too scared Marco would come up and I’d be next, so I just left him there.”
“It’s self-defense then.” With her heart pounding against her ribcage, Evie jumped up and ran to grab her phone. “You have to tell the police, Dora. If you don’t, you’re going to end up in an orange jumpsuit. And we both know orange is soooo not your color.” A shudder rolled through her as she imagined Dora locked up in a maximum security prison with women named Cue Ball and Pinkie Pearl as cellmates. Dora couldn’t kill a fly; she’d never survive life in the big house. “We’ll call them now and explain everything. Surely they have security cameras that will show what really happened.”
Dora popped up off the couch and yanked the phone away from Evie. “I already talked to Brian. He said to lay low until tomorrow. He went to get the tapes.”
“Why?” Evie frowned. “Don’t they want your statement? And if Brian knows, then why are all my blinds drawn?”
“Evie,” Dora said in a hushed whisper. “He said there is corruption at the Pensacola police station, and he doesn’t know who we can trust. So I’m to hang out here and lay low.”
“Corruption?” Evie placed her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I always did think Leonard Kemp was on the take. Did I ever tell you about the time he tried to get me to polish his knob in exchange for not giving me an indecent exposure citation?” She shuddered again. “Old pervy bastard. He’s over seventy years old.”
“He wanted you to wax his vintage T-bird, Evie,” Dora said, rolling her eyes.
“No, he didn’t. I specifically remember him leaning against his red—oh. T-bird.” She tsked, secretly pleased that she’d seemed to calm her friend down enough to at least correct her on the indecent exposure story. “Well, I still think it was a euphemism.”
Dora moved toward the window again, no doubt to peer out at the street, but before she got there, someone knocked on the front door once and then barged right in, the door banging open. Dora flung herself against the wall, flatting herself to the sheetrock.
“Hey, baby,” Trace, Evie’s long and lean rocker and sometimes boyfriend, called as he kicked the door shut. “I’m back! Ready for another hot night of caramel and orga—”
“Dora’s here!” Evie said brightly, waving at her friend behind him. Her heart swelled as she stared at Trace’s perfect backside. It had been more than three weeks since she’d seen him last. He was a bass player in a local band, and they were on the road a lot. It wasn’t unusual for him to surprise her when he rolled back into town.
Trace turned his brilliant blue eyes on Dora and gave her an easy smile. “Ahh, hey, Dora. Didn’t know you were going to be here.”
“It’s margarita Tuesday.” Dora blew out a breath and slid down the wall.
Trace’s eyebrows rose as he turned back to Evie. “Isn’t today Thursday?”
“We both needed to blow off some steam.” She linked her arm through his and pulled him into the kitchen. Once they had a bit of privacy, Trace pulled Evie into his arms and gave her a searing kiss that made her tingle all the way down to her toes.
“Missed you, babe,” he muttered against her lips.
Man, her rocker was yummy, but now wasn’t the time. Evie pressed a hand to his chest and gently pushed him back. “Me, too. But it’s not going to happen. Dora needs me tonight.”
Disappointment flashed in his soulful eyes, but he quickly switched gears and gave her a lopsided grin. “So, no caramel?”
“It doesn’t look good. Sorry.” She chuckled as Sunshine ran into the kitchen and started yapping at Trace. “Looks like Sunshine’s a little jealous.”
Trace reached down and pulled the bichon into his arms. “How are you doing, Sushi?” he asked the dog as she licked his face.
“Her name is Sunshine,” Evie said, just as she always did when he called her dog Sushi.
“Come on, Evie. She looks like a little ball of rice.” His voice changed to the universal baby-talk tone nearly everyone used for pets. “I could just eat you up in one bite!” He pressed his lips to Sunshine’s head and gave her a kiss. Then he grinned at Evie.
She shook her head at him, wondering what all his bandmates would think. But then she remembered the redwood tree-sized drummer who talked that way to Sush—Sunshine!—when he’d met her too. “Whatever. B
ut if she stops responding to her actual name, you’re the one who is taking her to obedience school.”
“Just roll with Sushi and everything will be fine,” Trace said, winking at her.
Evie took Sunshine from his arms and tucked her against her chest. “Okay, rock star. Time to go. It’s girls’ night, and we have margaritas to drink.”
Trace gave her a remorseful look. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Dora’s having a bad day.”
He nodded. “All right. Call me tomorrow?”
She set Sunshine on the floor and then pressed up onto her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss.
He pulled her in and deepened the kiss, making it clear he wasn’t thrilled about leaving. She wasn’t either to be honest. Trace was one heck of a good time, and it had been weeks. But Dora was her bestie and she needed her.
“It’s margarita time,” she said, pulling back.
“I could be one of the girls,” he teased even as he let her lead him toward the front door.
“Trust me when I say that’s entirely untrue.” Evie swept her gaze down his body, letting her attention linger just below the belt.
He laughed. “Night, Dora. Watch her as she mixes the margaritas. She’s been known to be heavy-handed on the tequila.”
“I need it,” Dora muttered. Then her head snapped up. “You never saw me here, right, Trace?”
“Uh…”
“Dora doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here,” Evie said quickly. “She’s laying low for a bit. Just don’t say anything if anyone asks where I am.” If someone was looking for Dora, no doubt they’d check at Evie’s house, but there was no need to broadcast her whereabouts. And if they did look for her at the little beach cottage, all of the blinds were closed, and the lights would be out. It would look like no one was home.
“Sure thing.” He mimed tipping a hat and disappeared out the front door.