She brightened. “Oh that’s right. This is my meeting. So you’re actually helping me!”
Three
Tim was still trying to optimize the tables and crates and chairs his sister had given him to create a bar for the evening when Julia led another rich socialite over for a drink.
“Hey Tim, I’ve got to go fetch Jessica from the train. Can you keep an eye on things?”
Tim looked around at the half dozen well-groomed women wandering about the gym. “Can I spank them if they’re bad?”
Julia had already walked away. She turned to gave him a warning glare. “Evelyn, can you keep an eye on my brother?”
Evelyn laughed nervously and looked back down at her phone.
Julia mouthed the words be nice to Tim and then propped open the swinging doors on her way out. Tim waved goodbye and turned to the newest member of the Fight Childhood Obesity Committee to arrive.
The woman, a sharply dressed bottle blond, her hair swept up in a tight chignon snapped a business card down on the makeshift bar. “Kimberly Davis, CEO Love Incorporated. Pour me a buttery chardonnay.” She immediately turned to greet Evelyn with a cold hug and air kisses. Tim considered introducing himself and his business but he had no cards. So he pulled the only chardonnay The Freckled Dog had sent over from the ice chest at his feet and filled a flute to the very rim.
Evelyn looked at the drink, at Tim, and then returned to her texting.
Kimberly Davis, CEO sneered at the glass. “This is the wrong stemware.”
Tim flashed the shadow of a smile at the woman. He leaned forward, ignoring the buzzing in his pocket.
“I match the glass to the woman,” he murmured, “not the beverage.”
She flushed and looked away, glancing over at the ladies gathering around a semi-circle of chairs.
“And why did you fill it right to the top?” Kimberly’s question came out in a husky whisper.
Tim glanced over at Evelyn quickly to make sure she was listening in. Then he pinned Kimberly Davis with his gray eyes and whispered back, “I was distracted by the line of your neck.” His phone buzzed again. He reached down to silence it and then looked up at Kimberly as if the idea had just struck him. “Were you a ballerina?”
“Well yes, when I was a little girl.” Kimberly fished in her purse, avoiding Tim’s intense stare. “How am I supposed to pick this up without spilling it everywhere?” She asked, her wallet now in her hands.
Tim pretended to lean casually against the back wall of the bar. Pretended, because the back wall was just a flat held up with a couple of two by fours and sand bags. Julia had promised there would be a better bar by the day of the actual fund-raiser. Tim suspected he would be the one building it.
He let Kimberly finger the cash in her eel skin wallet for a few moments. When she looked up into his eyes again, he grimaced prettily and finally answered her question. “If you really must leave me, I’m sure you can find a way.”
She kept her face impassive but Tim saw her pupils widen. Then she quirked an eyebrow and leaned over the glass. Without touching the stem, she sipped the wine down to a reasonable level.
“Evelyn,” Kimberly turned only her head to the committee chair, showing off her neck. “Is it alright if I wander around a bit before the meeting begins?”
“My dear, that’s why we’re here. Enjoy yourself.” Evelyn kissed the blond on each air cheek.
Kimberly Davis turned her eyes back to Tim. She smiled flirtatiously and slipped a twenty dollar bill into the tip jar. Tim nodded his head in appreciation but the woman had already turned away. He waited until she was out of earshot before he stepped forward and picked up the Love Incorporated business card.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.
“I would throw it out.” Evelyn suggested. “You can’t trust an unmarried matchmaker.”
Tim tore up the card and tossed it in the paint bucket he was using for trash as Evelyn finished another text. His phone buzzed again and he slipped it from his cargo pocket. Domestic had contacted him. Tim labeled his clients according to the most pertinent information he had about them. At the moment, he was fielding offers from three potential clients; Domestic, Cheek, and Underbelly. Underbelly had been conversing with him for a few weeks. Tim doubted that lead would ever find the guts to identify the target. Cheek was a referral from a contact in Vancouver who had decided to give her target one more chance. Tim had no doubts he’d hear from her again.
He hadn’t expected to hear from Domestic again. He hadn’t heard from the number since he’d quoted his price.
I can’t pay what you asked. He controls the money. I should be able to get you ten grand in cash.
Tim set his phone on the linen covering his door on two sawhorses bar. He scraped at a wax stain with his thumbnail. Ten grand was a pittance. He’d taken three jobs in town and each had been a disaster. The drugs deal client turned out to be a liar and he’d returned the payment. The superintendent gig had basically been pro bono even before Kissy and Avi had blackmailed him for a cut. Halloween’s hospital job had paid extremely well. But money could never make up for what he’d done to the girl he’d been in love with since high school.
He suddenly realized Evelyn was talking to him. “I’m sorry. Drifted off there. What did you say?”
She tilted her head at him. “I asked if we’re going to have a real bartender on event day?”
“What am I?” He asked. “Chopped liver?”
“No dear. You’re eye candy.” Evelyn blushed and took a deep drink of her whiskey.
Tim chuckled. He glanced down at his phone and flipped it over, hoping Domestic had found enough money to make his decision easy.
Plus I stole the key to his secret storage locker. You can have everything you find inside.
That was intriguing. Tim loved a good mystery. Hell, Tim was a good mystery. Still, he really needed to stop taking so many jobs in this city. If you got right down to brass tacks, he really needed to leave this city. He’d only moved in with his sister temporarily to help her with her broken leg. But Dr. James had removed her cast and Tim was still crashing in her second bedroom. He’d tried to leave twice. He’d gathered his two bags and written his sister a postcard.
The first time he’d not even made it to the door of his room. The second time he’d made it to the back porch. The wooden steps led down to the courtyard and out back to his bike. But the wooden steps also led up, to Kissy’s apartment. He couldn’t leave his sister to deal with all that alone. So he stayed.
His problem was he hated turning down anyone who needed him. He offered a very special service and most of the people who’d been lucky enough to find him had nowhere else to turn. But it was a dangerous job and one way to make sure his clients honestly wanted his help was making them come up with the cash. He didn’t trust clients who didn’t want to pay. And he really didn’t trust clients who had no trouble paying.
Evelyn set her empty glass on the bar. “Other people may want mixed drinks, you know.”
Tim pulled out the Jameson’s and added two fingers to the glass. “Don’t worry. Julia just went to get the real bartender.”
He set his phone aside again and upended the fishbowl tip jar on the bar. A pile of twenties slid onto the linen.
“And imagine how much better the tips will be when the drinks are good.”
Evelyn smiled. “You’re doing okay for yourself already.”
“This is yours.” Tim said. “You said you needed cash.”
Evelyn caught her breath and then winced a little. She held a hand to her chest for a moment.
“Aren’t you sweet?” Tears welled up in the eye not covered by her hair. “But I don’t think a hundred dollars is going to help me.”
Tim was going to ask what she needed the cash for when a little white-haired woman slammed her walker into the swinging door Julia had not propped open. Evelyn perked up and jogged over to help the newcomer.
Tim sighed and pulled
his phone from the bar. He swiped to the third text from Domestic.
I really need your help.
He rolled his eyes at himself as he decided. He’d take the meeting and if the job was legitimate he vowed it would be the last one he’d do in town. His phone buzzed again and he glanced down at yet another text from Domestic.
Please. I need it done tonight. You need to kill him tonight.
Four
She took a deep breath, ran her fingers through her thick black hair, letting it fall in her face. Julia was moving her car to the back alley to leave the front parking lot open for the committee members so she could slip back out the front door and run away if she wanted. She was tired of hiding in her third-floor apartment, tired of dodging everyone’s calls. But she was terrified of walking into this room filled with people.
She strolled over to the news clippings and posters decorating one wall of the foyer. The mayor had come to the school’s inaugural performance just a few years ago. Thanks to his endorsement Circus Freaks had been able to build out the space, erect a permanent flying trapeze, and hire Julia as the full-time manager.
Julia had wanted to run away with the circus since she was seven years old and saw a clown performing a static trapeze act in a traveling carnival. When she asked her parents for money to take a class she’d learned the meaning of violently opposed. So she set out to learn everything she could from the internet. And the very day she turned eighteen, she’d moved to the city and started training with La Grand Mariposa, a Spanish aerialist who was tired of the road. Together Julia and The Butterfly had raised the money to start Circus Freaks.
A peal of laughter floated through the open door. The young woman took another deep breath and set down her guitar case for a moment to flex her fingers. She’d been gripping the handle too tightly. Case in hand, trying to keep in mind that she had nothing but good memories from this place, she shook her hair into her face again and faced the door.
She made a deal with herself. I can leave. I have to step through that door. But if there are too many people, I can leave.
She stepped through the door.
And nothing happened. Nothing exploded. Nobody threatened her. Nobody even noticed her. She let out her breath, just realizing that she’d been holding it. The room was nearly empty. A few women gathered around a semi-circle of chairs arranged along the mat next to the static trap practice arena. They were all very well dressed, some in business suits, some in workout clothes. To a woman, their hair was perfect.
Another small cadre of women were gathered closer to the office door where a flat had been set up to shield the extensive permanent medical station. These women were gathered around a white haired little spitfire with a walker who was holding court.
One woman stood to the edge of this circle. Her fashionably gray hair was set in waves that strategically covered one eye. She leaned a bit too heavily on the linen covered table beside her and occasionally held her glass up to her face for a moment when none of the others were looking. A blond with enormous swinging earrings pushed through the little group and grabbed this loner around the shoulders. She side-kissed the woman and said something that made all of the ladies raise their glasses. They clinked and drank.
As soon as she was no longer the center of attention, the loner turned away to fix her hair. She winced and tenderly felt the ribs on her right side. Then she looked up.
“Our entertainment is here!” The woman turned to the others and they all moved away from the bar to greet the newest arrival.
They surrounded her and her heart rate shot up. She found herself answering questions and fielding compliments as the gaggle of rich ladies hustled her over to their little bar. She kept her head down initially and then remembered that Julia had brought her to play. She was an entertainer tonight. She had to be. If she didn’t want to do it, she should have said no days ago.
“Get our singer a drink!” One woman demanded.
Another added, “We’ll all have another drink!”
“Don’t order anything fancy.” The loner whispered loudly. “He’s the worst bartender in the city.”
“The worst!” A red head concurred.
A tall blond said, “But who cares when he’s so pretty?”
Then she looked up and saw the worst bartender in the city. And he saw her. She tensed, waiting for her adrenaline to spike, expecting her heart to beat right out of her chest. But her heart slowed. The pressure in her head and neck released. She saw him and she felt calmer.
She’d been avoiding him, blaming him. But he was the man who had stayed with her while her boyfriend ran after that other woman. She felt an honest smile replace the fake one she’d plastered on to greet these women.
She managed to say, “Hi Tim.”
Her smile spread to her eyes as he stared at her. His face had turned as pale as his white blond hair. His mouth was open as if he were going to say something but he didn’t. He just stared. She reached up and adjusted the collar of her sparkly turtleneck. Then, remembering again that she didn’t have a black eye anymore, she brushed her hair behind an ear.
He still stared. She giggled.
“Hi, Tim,” she repeated.
He inhaled, closed his mouth, and looked down at the empty tumbler in his hand. Red crept along his skin from the loose neck of his typical black t-shirt, then up over his ears until his hair glowed from the blush. He peeked up at her and laughed to cover an enormous sigh of relief. Then he smiled, his charming mask firmly back in place.
“Hi,” he replied, “Kissy!”
Five
“You can’t serve Evelyn any more alcohol.” Kissy slipped in behind the bar and set her tumbler in the crate Tim had designated for used glasses.
“She seems like a woman who needs another drink.” Tim glanced at Kissy’s turtleneck and made himself look away.
Kissy didn’t notice. She bent to grab a bottle of water and a Newcastle from the cooler. The ladies had all left the bar to settle in the chairs and start their meeting. They were expecting one last committee woman to arrive. Evelyn wanted to wait for her but she’d been overruled by the others.
Kissy wiped the bottle with an edge of the tablecloth. She glanced over at the committee before turning back to Tim.
“She has broken ribs and a black eye. I’d bet your standard fee she’s taking some pretty serious pain killers.”
“I saw the black eye. Are you sure about her ribs? She carried a crate for me earlier.”
“Like I said, pain killers.” Kissy pointed out, popping the top off the beer.
Tim took the bottle from her. “You’re on some pretty good painkillers yourself, aren’t you?”
“The beer is for Julia.” She took it back. “And I weaned myself off the Oxy already. I hated how it made me feel.”
Tim leaned on the bar top and looked over at Evelyn. She sat in the nearest chair but kept looking over her shoulder at the swinging doors. She was careful to fix her hair when she turned back to the ladies but Kissy and Tim got a very clear view of the swollen blue and purple bruise shining through Evelyn’s pancake makeup.
“I should teach her how to use a bruise box.” Tim mused.
Kissy had known him as a kid. She knew why he’d become a master at using stage makeup to cover bruises.
“Or you could teach her how to fight back,” she suggested.
Tim turned to look at his friend. “That is a very good idea. How about you? You want to get in on those classes?”
Kissy smiled, “I could always learn more.”
Tim put down his glass. “More?”
“Get away from my bar, Cherry Coke.” A new voice hollered from behind them.
They turned to find Jessica, Kissy’s fellow bartender from The Freckled Dog glaring in horror. She had a long black apron over a short skirt topped with a crisp white shirt and black vest. Her wildly curly hair was pinned up in two buns on the top of her head.
Tim backed away from the tablecloth covered door on
a pair of sawhorses. He dropped down and rolled under the linen draped folding table at his side and popped up on the far side, his hands up in submission. Jessica stepped into the precarious square of the bar and immediately started reorganizing the bottles and glasses.
“Alright.” She barely glanced at Tim. “You go ask the ladies if they’re thirsty now that we’ve got two competent bartenders.”
Kissy slipped out the way Jessica had come in. “I’m the entertainment, tonight.”
“Your friend promised I wouldn’t be alone.”
Julia sidled up beside Kissy and wrapped an arm around her friend’s waist. “And I keep my promises. I brought you my brother.”
“Your brother?” Jessica asked as she continued to rearrange the temporary bar, flipping crates and creating origami dragons from napkins. “I’ve heard about your brother.”
“Yeah.” Kissy nodded towards Tim. “That’s him.”
Jessica gave Tim a careful once over and then turned wide eyes to Kissy.
“Cherry Coke is Timothy?” she asked. “He’s the pretty boy you had a crush on in high school?”
“Shut it.” Kissy warned.
Tim bowed and stepped in close. “Tell me what else Kissy has said about me.”
Kissy zipped around the table and grabbed Tim’s elbow. “Let’s go. . . somewhere else.”
Julia joined them. “I stashed your microphone and stuff in the equipment closet. Tim can help you set up.”
Despite the two women dragging him away, Tim turned and waved a goodbye to Jessica. When he turned back, Evelyn had gotten up from her seat. She was headed for the bar and Julia dragged both Tim and Kissy with her to intercept the woman.
“Are you excited, Evelyn?” Julia kissed her on the cheek. “I thought you were bringing Mason and, what’s your daughter’s name?”
“Mason is home resting. Madison is babysitting.” Evelyn kept walking as she talked. “I’m just going to get a real drink now that we have a bartender. No offense, Tim.”
Julia held on to Evelyn’s arm, turning her to the other two. “Evelyn and I met at Dr. James’ office. How perfect that her son and I share an orthopedist right when she was looking for a venue for this fund raiser, right?”
Killer on Call 6 Book Bundle (Books 1-6) Page 19