My Sister's Murderer

by Liv Bennett

  But, I’m here with a purpose. With a newfound confidence, I square my shoulders and stick my chest out. His eyes glide down to my breasts, and I see his pupils dilate. Shit! How could I forget about my sweaty t-shirt outlining everything of my torso?

  “Hi, Austin. I…I gotta go.” Embarrassed to the core, I rush toward the door as if someone yelled fire.

  So much for my detective work! All I learned was how pathetically out of shape I’ve become, along with the name of the coach, and I didn’t even get a chance to talk with him.

  I drive straight to my hotel, throw myself into the shower and turn on the cold water to cool off my scorching body, all the while with Austin’s face before me. When he eyed my breasts, I felt naked, but not like the way I did with Max. His gaze was entitled and disgusting, while Austin looked truly astounded as if he’d come across a beautiful, hidden pond at the edge of the woods.

  The water isn’t cold enough to wipe the flustered look off my face. Feeling tired to my bones, I put on a long-sleeved black dress with a flared hem and the gray boots from yesterday and head for the hotel restaurant for the complimentary breakfast.

  Once the elevator dings open on the ground floor, I start toward the restaurant but stop in my tracks when I spot Austin. Without my control, my feet take a step backward. When Austin notices my uneasy reaction, he laughs and raises his hand holding up my gray jacket I must have dropped at the gym during my hasty exit.

  Giving up, I approach him. “Hi…again.”

  He’s still chuckling, amused by my obvious misery. “I think ours is destiny. Denying the sparks between us is a waste of time.”

  “What are you talking about?” I try to grab for my jacket in his hand, but he yanks it away playfully just as my fingers brush it.

  He hides my jacket behind him, clearly with the intention to make me suffer. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Where are you heading to?”

  “To the restaurant”—I point toward the tables ahead of us—“for breakfast.”

  “Knowing when your man is hungry…That’s an irresistible wifely quality if you ask me.”

  However hard I try, I can’t help my grin. “You’re not my man, and I’m not your wife.”

  “That can be easily taken care of.”

  With a shake of my head, I leap beside him and yank my jacket out of his hand. “The kitchen will close for breakfast in fifteen minutes. Hurry if you want to eat.”

  He doesn’t budge as I expect. Instead, he roams his eyes down my dress, looking more pleased with each inch. “You look lovely,” he says, his voice suave, his line practiced probably a hundred times. “But, I liked you better sweaty and flushed.”

  Blood rushes to my cheeks instantly when I remember his heated gaze on my peeking nipples. I bet I’m as flushed as at the gym right now. “Let’s eat. I’m starved.”

  He moves at last, perhaps feeling pity for me. He hurries to get in front of me so he can get the chair for me. Just as I start to protest, he lifts his index finger, wiggling it left and right. “It’s our first date. Let me spoil you.”

  I frown at him. “This isn’t a date.”

  “I know I should have asked for your number first and scheduled a date in advance, but we’re in a restaurant, and you’re all dolled up and beautiful. How can I possibly pass up such a golden opportunity?”

  “You’re crazy.” I settle on the chair and actually let him adjust it for me.

  “Crazy for you.” He’s using every cheesy, clichéd line in the book. I know it. Even so, I can’t stop myself from falling for them. At least, Lena isn’t around to get mad at me.

  “What if I have a boyfriend?”

  “A small detail.” He shrugs as if no girl can resist his charms and that contagious grin, boyfriend or no boyfriend. Honestly, he wouldn’t be all wrong.

  I grab the menu and scan the breakfast part. Despite the wide range of omelets, the complimentary breakfast includes only two options, one is pancakes, the other cereal. My shoulders sag. I won’t be hitting my macros for the day anytime soon.

  “I guess I’ll have pancakes.”

  He raises a distrustful eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, I love curves as much as any other guy, but if you’re going to continue RockAthletic, you need to eat protein.”

  “I know, but the complimentary breakfast only offers pancakes or cereal,” I say, ashamed to say it as if I’m admitting to a crime. My message doesn’t come across. He stares at me for more explanation, so I add, “I’m on a budget.”

  “This is a date. Order whatever you want from the menu. I’ll pay.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. I wasn’t trying to get to you pay for my meal. I’m sorry.” I push to my feet, ready to stop this madness. “Maybe, I should go.”

  His face falls with a look of sadness that stalls me. He leans forward and reaches for my hand, touching me cautiously with the tip of his fingers. “Please stay.”

  After all his humor and flirting, his request is an earnest plea, and for the first time, I consider he might really like me. I sit back down. “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “I am. I’m old-fashioned when it comes to first dates.” He takes a brief look at the menu. “Besides, this isn’t expensive at all. I had to pay close to a grand for some first dates.”

  “Is that so?” I glance down at my nails, feigning boredom, to hide the unfounded pang of jealousy that came out of nowhere. He’s not mine to begin with, and that’s in the past.

  He laughs, again amused by my reaction. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

  My eyes fly up to him, and I stare at him wide-eyed, like a deer in the headlights again! Damn, I’ve got to get control of myself with this man! “No, of course not. Why would I be jealous?”

  He shakes his head with a tsking sound, not believing a single word I’ve said. “Let’s order.”

  I order steak with eggs and hash browns while he goes for a bowl of tomato soup, two types of omelet plus a large bowl of Greek salad. Tears threaten when he says I should eat whatever I want to my heart’s content. Generosity aside, no one, not even my own father, has ever been so thoughtful and generous to me.

  I’m so hungry from standing up all day yesterday and the heavy workout today, I will drop dead if I don’t eat soon, and he goes out of his way to get me more than enough food. My lips are trembling from the rush of emotions. I can’t even thank him without showing him the meltdown I’m going through on the inside.

  If only he wasn’t this handsome and wealthy… I can’t compete with the girls who must be chasing him. I’ll just be one of the many he’s taken out on a first date.

  Still…

  I dig in, my only way to show him my gratitude, and eat like I have been starving half my life. He sits back, truly entertained by my lack of table manners, while popping a slice of steak here, a piece of lettuce there into his mouth.

  “So, you’re into RockAthletic,” he says more as a question than a statement.

  I can barely lift my head out of my plate of steak and eggs. I don’t know if it’s my hunger level shooting through the roof or if the chef has a Michelin star, but I can’t let go of my fork. “I actually am. I used to work at a RockAthletic gym in South Denver. They let me join the workouts for free. So I tried it. I felt like shit after each workout. And I sweat like a hurricane, but the long-term gains are undeniable. Now that I’ve decided to settle in Boulder, a town that values fitness, I thought I should give RockAthletic another try. How about you? You look like you’re no stranger to fitness and lifting.”

  “Why, thank you.” My compliment makes him grin from ear to ear. “I played football in college. I did RockAthletic on the side for a couple of years, had a great coach. After he moved to Nevada, I decided it was time for me to move on to more challenging areas. I tried it all; Stronglifts, Olympic lifting, powerlifting. Nowadays, I just swim and do my own program. I’m still at the gym five days a week.”

  I could tell he had a swimmer’s body the first time I met him. That
perfect triangle of his torso! “So, you’re mixing it up.”

  “Yeah, it gets boring after a while.”

  “Oh.” I wonder if boredom is an issue for him when it comes to girls. Probably not, considering girls must be coming at him by the dozens.

  “That’s just for sports. It doesn’t reflect at all how I am in the romance department.”

  I frown at first then burst into laughter. “Thanks for the clarification. And also, thanks for the breakfast.”

  “My pleasure. What time are you going to get off work?” he asks, having barely touched his food. He must be getting a kick out of watching me wolf down three different dishes. It makes me aware of my severely lacking table manners, and I feel the remorse of bulimic patients after a huge meal.

  I finally leave the fork beside my plate. “I’ll stay until closing. Yesterday it was ten thirty.”

  He nods. “Have you ever done donuts?”

  Some chocolate donuts actually sound the right way to end my feast of a breakfast, but something seems off. It may be a local slang for weed. “I have a feeling you’re not talking about deep-fried dough.”

  It seems he finds everything I say hilarious. He gives me a shake of his head, barely containing his laughter. “It’s a driving technique. You basically spin around in the car, best done on a dirt road or in snow.”

  “Sounds fun, even without real donuts.”

  “I was planning to drive up to Eldora with some friends tonight, but I’ll ditch them if you’ll come with me instead after you get off work.”

  “Wouldn’t it be late?”

  “Nighttime is actually better. Fewer distractions from other drivers.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. It’ll be a date. Two dates in a row in one day with me. Why would you say no to that?”

  “Such a humble thing you are!”

  “Come on! Say yes, and let me take you to work. It’s getting late.”

  I glance at the clock on the wall and flinch in my seat. Damn! It’s fifteen before eleven. “Lena will give me shit.”

  “No, she won’t. Do you need to get something from your room?”

  “I have everything.” Maybe except for my phone.

  “You have nothing to worry about then. I can drop you off at your work in ten minutes.” He grabs his wallet, leaves a crisp hundred-dollar bill on the table, and stands up, looking ready to leave for his car outside.

  I tilt my head back to look up at him. “Aren’t you going to wait for your change?” Even after the tip, he’s got at least thirty dollars change due.

  “Not worth making you be late. Come on!”

  Ch 6

  A New Target

  As promised, Austin drops me off on a parallel street north of Pearl in time for me to avoid Lena’s fury. As soon as I step out of his car, his last name in giant letters jumps out at me from a store window.

  Knight Technologies. He’s in the software business too with an office in downtown Boulder. If I stop to inquire, I’ll be late and risk losing my job. So I run like an Olympic runner (I wish) and make it in time to avoid Lena’s fury.

  Lena is particularly bubbly today. Whenever she gets a break from waiting tables, she goes on and on about a guy she met at a bar last night, a promising criminal defense attorney from Denver. She makes sure to mention his Mercedes SLC300 convertible and that he stayed at the St Julien, possibly the most expensive hotel in Northern Colorado. I wonder if she came to work directly from his hotel room.

  While I try to look attentive while listening to Lena’s bragging, Erin seems really impressed by Lena’s ability to bag a wealthy man. Her big innocent eyes widen with each detail Lena throws at us. Fran works like a robot, with little to no small talk with us between waiting tables. She’s the hardest to get a feel for of all my new colleagues.

  I’m starting to get used to them. Even Lena’s attics become normal after several hours of exposure to them. But Max, there’s no way in hell I’ll get used to his repulsive ogling of my body. His eyes barely make it to my face. Whenever he gets a chance, his eyes are on me, undressing me, scrutinizing me as if trying to engrave every detail into his small brain to use later for his jerking-off sessions. The thought of it makes me taste bile in my mouth.

  His isn’t simple rudeness or brief appreciation of a beautiful woman’s body. His stare is purposeful and meant to objectify and dehumanize. I have a feeling he’s in the restaurant business just to have attractive female employees working for him. If this doesn’t work out, I know which direction he’ll be headed: a striptease club.

  Was he the same to Ruby?

  A deep sense of repulsion washes over me, thinking about the possible ways he may have harassed her. There’s no mentioning of him in Tara’s journal. Ruby must have omitted anything related to Max not to worry her mom. She could barely convince Tara and Dad to let her move to Boulder to study and get a job. Dad would have never allowed her near the restaurant if he’d known she worked for a pervert asshole that was one step away from becoming a rapist.

  If I had to come up with a list of suspects, Max would make it to the top.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Erin whispers when we get a fifteen-minute break for dinner, after another disgusting confrontation with Max. “He’s harmless. I believe he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing is wrong. Some men can be clueless.”

  Despite the delicious looking steak slides on the house salad, my appetite is gone. “Yeah,” I say just to respond with something.

  “Anyway”—she waves her hand and beams with a smile as she gathers a small piece of lettuce on her fork—“your first official day at work has been going flawlessly.”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  “Getting used to our software can be a challenge, but you’re doing great. We had a few mix-ups with Fran and the other hire. You practically waltzed your way through it on your very first day.”

  “I worked as an office assistant. Probably, that’s the reason.”

  “That’s interesting. Why the change? You’d have better career options with an office job.”

  “You’re right, but it’s boring as hell. I’ll probably return to it after a while. I like the restaurant-bar scene much better. What about you? I bet waiting tables isn’t your long-term plan.”

  “I’m actually a graduate student at CU. This is only until the end of my studies. Once I’m done with my thesis, I’ll start looking for jobs in my area.”

  For a high school graduate like me, a graduate degree is practically equivalent to winning the Nobel Prize. “Wow, you must be smart!”

  She gives me a shy, humble smile with a wave of her hand. “It’s just hard work, but thank you.”

  Humility is the number one quality I look for in people, and Erin just hit the highest score. “What about Fran?” I ask, focusing on my mission to collect information. “She’s a college student, too, right?”

  “Yeah, she’s a freshman in Economics.”

  Blood freezes in my veins and I drop my fork on the table. Fran and Ruby were closer than I originally thought. Not only did they start working at the restaurant at the same time, but also had the same major. It seems Ruby omitted more than just the unpleasant parts of her new life away from her family.

  “She’s very quiet,” I comment to urge Erin to spill more beans while both of us watch her enter the kitchen to collect dessert plates. I narrow my eyes at her to scrutinize the mischievous look she shoots at the chef’s assistant. She’s not out there like Lena, but she has a certain seductiveness that comes with innocence. Her naïve look may very well be just an act while she nurtures a malicious persona underneath.

  As soon as Fran walks out of the French doors of the kitchen, I return my gaze to Erin. “Do you know where she lives?” I realize how tactless my question is when Erin’s eyebrows pull together in confusion. “I just asked because I’m looking for a room. She looks like a cool gal.” My immediate attempt at smoothing over my gaff doesn’t completely erase the
suspicion from Erin’s face.

  “She and Ruby, the previous employee who committed suicide, shared a two-bedroom condo together, I think, down on the Hill. I don’t know if she has a new roommate at the moment, but it won’t hurt to ask.”

  Erin’s words blow me away. I need to collect my jaw from where it dropped on the floor. Erin’s curiosity grows at my shock, and I can’t formulate something smart to say to save face. I start to mumble. When Max announces the end of my break, I rush to the front desk to welcome a family of five and walk them to one of Lena’s tables while Erin stays in the kitchen a little longer.

  It takes a good five minutes to shake off the shock of hearing the details about Fran’s close relationship with my sister. Either Tara has problems remembering names, or Ruby left out a big chunk of her new life from her mother.

  Fran quickly moves to the top of my suspects list.

  From that point on, my entire focus is on Fran. She becomes like a giant HDTV in front of me, monopolizing my attention. I don’t even notice Max coming in and out of his office. My eyes devour Fran, alert for any subtleties in her actions. The way she talks with the patrons, her sharp memory and the easiness with which she takes orders, how impatient she gets at an indecisive patron, how she swears under her breath, steals food off the patrons’ plates when she thinks no one is looking, how she hides in the hall to peek at her phone screen, to count her tips, and how she avoids Lena at all costs.

  Time flies while spying on someone. By the end of my shift, I have a good sense of Fran. I can’t exactly say she’s malicious enough to cause my sister’s death, but she definitely has some spite in her beneath her innocent exterior.

  Just before we’re about to close, the front door opens. I let out a sigh of frustration, not wanting to stay longer for a customer who’ll keep us around for at least half an hour longer.

  It’s not a new patron but Austin, thankfully, and he comes with French fries. How did he know I needed carbs? The man can read minds. He’s also a gentleman and offers some of the fries to the girls.