After a long, exhausting and dangerous career with the CIA, Clive retired and started a private investigation agency, Black Rose Investigations—a name picked out by his wife.
Black Rose specialized in civil investigations, but accepted all kinds of cases including surveillance, fraud, corporate investigation and infidelity, among other, more obscure areas.
Dixie, Roxy and Scar grew up running the halls of the agency, earning their allowances by doing small tasks for their father, and learning the ropes in the process. Clive made it his life’s mission to raise three strong, independent women who could handle themselves in any situation. At a young age, the sisters were taught the skills needed to become a private investigator, advanced self-defense techniques, and how to handle a gun.
After high school, the sisters followed in their father’s footsteps, each majoring in Criminal Justice and graduating college with honors.
The pieces of the Knight family puzzle seemed to be falling into place until the day that changed the sisters lives forever—the day their mother and father died in a tragic plane accident on the way back from vacation.
In one day, the three sisters inherited a massive, multi-home estate and thriving business. And after ten long years of working their asses off promoting and growing the company, Black Rose Investigations had become one of the most prestigious private investigation companies in the country.
By appearances, the sisters could be triplets—each having long, dark hair, flawless porcelain skin, and killer bodies that women envied and men drooled over. They inherited their enchanting beauty from their mother, and their take-no-prisoners attitude from their father.
By personalities, the three sisters couldn’t be more different.
Roxy, the oldest, was the glue that held the sisters together. Always cool, calm and collected, she handled the lion’s share of the business part of their business. Roxy was the type of woman to keep her emotions tucked away, only to be released in the privacy of her shower, and even then, it was only a single, glistening tear. She was one tough gal, no doubt about it, and a hell of an investigator. Roxy had her father’s analytical mind—she was able to put random pieces of a puzzle together that no one else could. She worked outside the lines, always, and sometimes outside of the law to get the job done.
Scar, the youngest, was the more reserved, free-spirit of the sisters, and mirrored their mother the most. If Scar didn’t have her head in a book, she was working twenty-four hours on her cases—the definition of a workaholic. Scar had an uncanny way of pulling information from the tightest-lipped clients and suspects, using her soothing and trusting nature—or aura, as she would call it. The local PD often called her to interview witnesses, when they were at their wit’s end. Her only fault was that she had a tendency to take her work home with her, becoming too emotionally invested in each case.
And then there was Dixie, the middle child, the only frugal sister, who felt like she never quite fit in. Always running to catch up, it seemed, Dixie was the type of girl that was always late, always forgetting things, always losing things, and, according to her sisters, always had her head in the clouds. But Dixie was smart. Super smart. Dixie had inherited two things from her father—his eye for the smallest details and pieces of evidence that were always missed, and an almost infallible instinct when it came to a crime scene. She saw things that others simply missed, and those “small things” had helped solve countless cases. Each of the sisters were highly sought-after investigators, but Dixie had a reputation all her own—Eagle Eye, as she was known.
CHAPTER 3
Dixie drained the last of her coffee and flicked on the light as she stepped into her office.
She tossed her purse on the floor, maneuvered around a stack of boxes overflowing with files, and sank into her leather chair. Before she could take a breath, Ace poked his head in… and immediately wrinkled his nose.
“Dude, what’s that smell?”
Her eyes rounded, and a second of panic shot through her… she’d remembered to shower, right?
Yes, she’d definitely showered, and even dabbed on a little perfume that Roxy had brought her back from her last vacation to Italy. So according to the description on the box, she should smell like white calla lilies and not something worthy of a wrinkled nose.
She frowned and looked around, her gaze landing on a small pizza box under her desk. “Oh. Dammit, I forgot to toss the pizza.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “From Friday?”
She shrugged and picked up the box from the floor. “What’s wrong with three-day old pizza?”
“The scent, Dixie. The scent is what’s wrong with it.” He shook his head. “Why can’t we hire a maid?”
She powered on her computer. “We are absolutely not paying someone to do what decent human beings are supposed to do themselves.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Besides, someone’s got to feed Krestel.”
“Krestel only eats little children.”
“Or, your little girlfriends, who seem to disappear immediately after the first date.” She winked. “How’d it go Saturday night?”
He pushed off the doorframe and sank into the only chair that wasn’t covered in papers and candy wrappers. “She was boring.”
“Boring? Pea-sized, bleached-blonde Pepper from the drive-in was boring?”
“Not every woman can be as beautiful as you, dear Dixie.”
She laughed. “No, I’m saying that maybe you should go for a different kind of woman next time. Someone with a college degree perhaps, and maybe a real pair of boobs every once in a while… you know, mix it up a bit.”
He gazed lustfully at the ceiling, “But life’s so much more fun with them… blondes I mean.”
She grinned. “Of course.”
“Anyway, I don’t think she took too kindly to my digs.”
Dixie flashed her best sarcastic shocked face. “What? You mean she didn’t like being brought to this dark, scary mansion after you took her to Tubby’s BBQ?”
“I took her to Mario’s Pizzeria, thank you very much. But yeah, after I told her the house was rumored to be haunted, she was creeped out through the remainder of the movie.”
“First, quit telling people this place is haunted, and second, what movie did you pick?”
“Deadman’s Cross.”
Dixie shook her head. “Probably not the best choice… in movie or girl.”
He leaned back and kicked up his feet. “You’re probably right, anyone who doesn’t like this palace ain’t for me.”
Being quite the ladies’ man, it wasn’t uncommon for Ace to bring girls to the house, and Dixie got the vibe that he made a game out of the haunted rumors—spook the girls, so that he could draw them into his big, muscular arms and fight off any ghouls lurking in the shadows. But the sisters didn’t bat an eye at his late-night, extracurricular activities. Ace was as smart as a whip, with a double major in Computer Science and Criminology, and was indispensable to the company. His title “officer manager” was more of a façade, as most of the work he did for the company wasn’t exactly on the books. Ace spent most of his time hacking into systems, files, phone records, public records, etcetera, to assist with cases. With dark hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and a thick, muscular body, Ace was as handsome as he was smart, and was paid damn well for the work that he did for them.
His phone beeped and he stood up. “Anyway, just wanted to say good morning. And by the way, bleached-blonde Pepper has a cousin you should meet. A Marine passing through town, visiting relatives on his two-week leave.”
Dixie was already busy clicking through emails, giving Ace only half of her attention. “Ha. A jarhead in town for two weeks. Sounds like marriage material.”
“Hey if you don’t start seriously dating someday, I’m going to have to marry you just out of pity.”
She gave him the side-eye and glanced at the door. “That’ll do, Ace.”
He grinned and turned. “Always a
pleasure, Eagle Eye.”
She grunted a laugh as Raven walked in.
“Hey… whoa, it kind of stinks in here.”
Dixie rolled her eyes and blew out a breath. “Okay, okay, I’ll throw out the pizza just as soon as I get through these damn emails.”
Raven walked over and plucked the grease-stained box off the desk. “I’ve got Hank on line two for you. Sounds wired.”
“Wired?”
“Yeah, especially for nine in the morning.”
Dixie frowned—it wasn’t like the small-town lawyer to sound wired, no matter what time it was.
“Thanks, and don’t forget…”
“I’ve already ordered a new sign.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Drown in an endless pit of pizza boxes and Snickers wrappers.” Raven gave her a wink before walking out.
Dixie grabbed a notebook and pen, and picked up the phone.
“Dixie Knight here.”
“Dixie, it’s Hank.”
“Howdy Hank, what’s got you out of bed so early?”
“Always the smartass. I’ve got a client that could use your services.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Does the name Suzie Blevins ring a bell?”
She wrinkled her nose and searched her memory. “Ah, yes, the neurotic wife of that rich guy, the doctor, lives up on the mountain. Fire-red hair, fancy sports car, carries that stupid small dog around with her all the time. No job, although that’s just an assumption.”
“Damn you’re good with the details.”
“That’s why I pay myself the big bucks. So what’s her problem?”
“She thinks her husband, John, a doctor at Den Care Clinic, is cheating on her with a young, blonde, twenty-something—a pharmaceutical rep that goes to his office. She says he’s cheated on her before and is finally done with him.” He paused. “I’ve never seen a woman have such hatred toward a man. She can’t stand him. Anyway, apparently there’s an infidelity clause in their prenup and she wants him caught so she can get his money after she files for divorce.”
“Sounds like a charming woman.” Dixie shook her head and leaned forward. “But nope, no way Hank. Wrong gal, I don’t deal with that bullshit. I can patch you through to Scar, she’s taken a few infidelity cases lately. Hang on…”
“Wait, Dixie…”
“Yeah?”
“I came to you for a reason… our young, blonde, twenty-something pharma rep was just declared a missing person.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Missing? As of when?”
“As of this morning. Didn’t make it home last night, her cell phone’s off, and there’s no sign of her whatsoever. Suzie is practically drooling with this new information—if her husband had something to do with it, she’d get every penny of his money.”
“Name?”
“Lizzie Meyers.”
“Last seen?”
“Leaving Den Care Clinic yesterday afternoon.”
“The husband’s clinic?”
“Yep.”
“Who reported her missing?”
“Her parents. Apparently, she and her mom, Beth, text throughout the day, every day. The last time Beth heard from Lizzie was four in the afternoon, yesterday. Her mom texted her again around eight, with no response. Tried again multiple times through the night, and finally, drove to her place at five this morning—Lizzie wasn’t there and showed no signs of sleeping in the bed.”
“Maybe she just skipped town for a while, taking a break from life or something.”
“No, her mom feels positive something bad has happened. Abducted, or worse. Mother’s instinct.”
“Hmm. Did Suzie say if John was home last night?”
“She said they had dinner together, and after that, she thinks he didn’t go back out.”
“Thinks?”
“Big house.”
“Do the police know about the alleged affair?”
“That I don’t know. It’s hot gossip though, so it wouldn’t surprise me. Anyway, just find a link between John Blevins and Lizzie Meyers, and my client would be more than happy, and would pay handsomely.”
It wasn’t about the money for Dixie—it never was—and the last thing she wanted was to get caught up in some bullshit infidelity case. But a missing person? Here in Devil’s Den? That was right up her alley.
She glanced at the forty-one unanswered emails glaring at her from her computer screen, and at the angry, blinking light on the phone, alerting her of unreturned calls. She really didn’t have time for another case.
“I’ll take it.”
“Fantastic. I’ll email you Suzie’s contact information, and I’d like you to get started right away.”
“You always do. I’ll send you through to Raven to discuss payment.”
“You always do.”
She smiled.
Click.
CHAPTER 4
Dixie clicked off with Hank, waited a moment, and picked the phone up again.
“Den Care Clinic, how may I help you?”
“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment with John Blevins, please. This morning if possible.”
“Name?”
“Dixie Knight.”
“Just a moment…” Click, click, click. “I’m sorry, Dr. Blevins is all booked up today, we can get you—
“No, that’s fine. Has he made it into the office this morning?”
“Yes, just a few minutes ago, actually.”
“Was he in yesterday?”
“Um, yes ma’am.”
“All day?”
“Um, I’m not sure… I’m sorry, is there something—
“Thank you.”
Click.
Dixie pressed the intercom button.
“Raven, come in my office and grab Ace, too. Please.”
Beep. “You got it, boss.”
Under a minute later, Raven stepped through the door with Ace at her side. Ace took a seat as Raven carefully pulled the papers and folders from the other chair, stacked them neatly on the file cabinet, and then sat down.
“Okay guys, we’ve got a new case.”
Raven raised her eyebrows. “A new case?”
“Yes…”
“On top of the zillion you’re already working on?”
“Yes…”
Raven shrugged. “Alright, what we got?”
“Does the name Lizzie Meyers ring a bell?”
Ace’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, that hot pharma rep, big boobs.”
Raven shook her head in disgust.
Dixie rolled her eyes. “Aside from the size of her chest, what do you know about her?”
“That’s about it. Drives a white sports car. I’ve seen her around from time to time but we’ve never spoken.”
“I’m surprised, considering the size of her chest.”
Ace grinned. “Just waiting for the right time to strike.”
“Well that time might have already passed—big boobed Meyers is officially a missing person.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
Raven clicked her pen and opened her notebook.
Dixie continued, “Suzie Blevins, wife of John Blevins MD, believes he is having an affair with Lizzie. She’s hired us to confirm that. I accepted the case because I want to find our missing blonde.”
“Last seen?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Does Suzie think her husband had something to do with Lizzie’s disappearance?”
“She’s hoping—if we confirm the affair, and especially if he had something to do with the disappearance, she gets his money after she divorces his cheating ass. But according to Hank, her lawyer, she believes her husband was at home last night.”
Ace leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “First order of business is to determine Doctor Cheats-alot’s whereabouts for last night.”
“Exactly. I just hung up with the clinic. He’s already in toda
y and was there yesterday.”
“So we know he and Lizzie didn’t skip town together.”
“Exactly.”
Raven looked up from the notepad. “What about the wife? Any chance she’s involved? Jealous, neurotic wife kills husband’s mistress?”
Ace shook his head. “She’d be the dumbest criminal on the planet to hire a PI to look into Lizzie’s disappearance if she had something to do with it.”
Dixie shrugged. “Or the smartest—maybe she covered her tracks well and wants all eyes off of her, and on her husband.”
Ace nodded. “Or hired someone to do the job.”
“That too. But remember we don’t know if Lizzie is dead, just that she’s missing.” Dixie stood and walked to the dry erase board on the wall. “Okay, so as of this second, with what minimal information we have, John Blevins is at the top of our suspect list.” She plucked the top from a black marker and began scribbling on the board. “Ace, I need you to verify that John was at home last night, or that he wasn’t—that’s step one. Then, we need to narrow down the window of time Lizzie officially went MIA—check her credit cards, see when her last transaction was, check her cell phone.”
Ace nodded.
“Raven, I need you to dig up absolutely everything you can on Lizzie Meyers, her family, boyfriends, anything. And then look into John and Suzie, too, but spend most time digging into Lizzie’s life.”
“You got it. I’m assuming the cops are already on this. Have you spoken with Zander?”
“I'll call him today.” Dixie’s phone rang. “Okay guys, that’s it for now. Let me know what you find.”
***
Dixie yanked up her hood as she pushed through the back door. The snow was coming down in blankets now, sure to snarl the mountain traffic on her way into town. The knot on her hip—from her fall earlier in the day—reminded her to tread lightly across the slick ground.
She winced as she slid into her truck, grazing her bruised hip across the seat.
She started the engine. It had been a crazy, busy day and now all she wanted was a couch and a glass of wine.
Damn, damn, damn, it was cold.
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