Unfinished Sentence (The Charlie Davies Mysteries Book 2)
Page 2
For the purpose of clarity, I should point out that this particular ‘Find Charlie a Man’ party was not the party I mentioned before. Yep, I’d ditched two separate parties (organised for me) to hang out with James, my arch nemesis. My life was a mess. The first time had ended in me nearly getting shot. The second had ended with – well, now’s not the time to go into that.
“I was following a potential lead,” I said. “I’m sorry I missed the party, but it was for a good cause.”
“Yes, I suppose it was. I was kind of surprised you turned up tonight, actually. I thought after you managed to disappear from a party at your own home, you’d ditch this one for sure.”
“Oh, well, you know…” The inquisition was beginning. I tried to breathe deeply and keep down the rising panic. Distract her!
“My rent’s due and I can’t pay it!” I blurted.
As a distraction tactic, it worked well, however as a life tactic it might not have been such a good idea. Jo had a tendency to meddle.
“What?”
“I have three grand to pay off my credit card,” I continued. In for a penny, in for three grand, right?
“Three! Oh my god! What the hell are you going to do? I thought they paid you really well at your new job!”
“They do.”
“Haven’t you got your reward money from James yet?”
“I’ve already spent it.”
“Isn’t your rent really cheap?”
“Oh my god, Jo, what are you saying? That this is all my fault?”
Was I starting a fight with my best friend so she wouldn’t ask me for more details about the time I’d spent with McKenzie? Yes, yes I was.
Was it working? Yes, yes it was.
“Well, yeah, it kind of is your fault.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd. “Never mind, I’m going to save you, precious. You need a repayment strategy! Come on, you are going to talk to my husband.”
Her husband, Oswald, was an accountant.
“I don’t think I’m in that much trouble,” I said. She was pushing past people with force and we were creating something of a stir, nearly knocking other guests over as we went.
“Maybe you need counselling. It sounds like you’re a shopaholic! I mean, all that money! And what do you have to show for it?”
“Um, a blender?” I said, before realising that didn’t really help my case. It’s OK guys, I have three thousand dollars of debt, but my blender is top of the line. Don’t you worry about it. I’ve got all life’s problems covered with my blender. It’s all smooth sailing. (Get it? Because my blender makes things smooth. I’ll show myself out.)
Jo pulled up abruptly and I slammed into her. She’d finally found her husband, sitting on a lounge by the wall with a couple of guys I didn’t know. I wondered for a second if either of them were Stacey’s boyfriend, but they were both too young. Stace had a type, and they didn’t fit.
I liked Os. He was usually fairly quiet, but he and I got intoxicated at about the same rate (very quickly), so we made good drinking buddies. I have vague memories of doing the Macarena with him on top of a bar one time. I think I set something on fire and he started stripping. Don’t judge; we were at least three drinks deep by that stage.
Jo started ranting about my over-expenditure, not even worrying about the other guys sitting there.
“Charlottes’s addicted to shopping! She’s severely in debt, Os. She needs a plan.” She turned to me. “This is a serious problem, you know. How could you spend so much?”
“It’s the cost of living these days, Jo,” I said, wishing I hadn’t told her about the debt. I’d stopped one interrogation only to be hit with another.
“Bullshit it is,” she snapped. “How much was that dress? And those shoes? Your bag? I mean, you do look great, honey, so it was kind of worth it but –”
“Jo,” Oswald cut in. “Why don’t you go find Stacey while I talk to Charlie? I haven’t seen her yet.”
Jo, totally oblivious to the fact that her husband was just using that as a ploy to get rid of her, did as he suggested.
“Thanks,” I said, after Jo had left.
“No worries,” said Oswald. “Do you need help?”
“No thank you, Mr Accountant. I have a job. I’ll pay off my card with that.”
“And your rent?”
“That too.”
He nodded. “What about living costs? You need money for food, electricity, water, internet...”
“Well,” I answered. “Most of the house runs on solar and we have water tanks out the back, so no fees for that.”
“And the food?”
“I eat at work. Lea eats at her parents’.”
“Is Lea footing half the rent?”
“She’s a little short on cash at the moment, so I’m paying the rent this month and she’s paying next month. After that we’ll go halves.”
He nodded. “So you don’t need help?”
“Not yet.”
“Jo’s worried about you.”
“I know. She shouldn’t be. I’m fine.”
Yes, that was a lie. Oh well. It was for a good cause.
Jo returned with Stacey and Lea in tow. I should have known Lea would be here. The second I’d accidentally invited her to live with me, my friends had inducted her into the ‘Fix Charlie’s Life’ Club. She was partly responsible for organising the last party I’d ditched.
“Hi,” Stacey beamed at me. “I hear you overspent a bit online. You look great. Personally, I’m impressed that it’s only 3000 dollars of debt. I would have thought it would take more to…” To what?! She caught herself and continued, “And that dress suits her so well, don’t you think, Lea?”
“Yeah, she looks hot. I’d do her.”
Well, at least I was a shopaholic with taste.
“Hey, Charlie,” said a voice behind me. I cringed. I heard Jo growl. Lea smiled. Stacey’s eyes went all dreamy. It could only mean one thing – James McKenzie.
Chapter Two
“How is everyone this evening?” James asked.
“Poor,” I said. “Might be a bit late with the rent.”
“I’m in no hurry for it,” he said.
Maybe this was good. Sure, a feeling of dread had settled in the bottom of my stomach (I’d been intending to avoid him), however, as long as both he and my friends were here, no one would start talking about what happened after I left that party. James wouldn’t rat me out to them, and they wouldn’t question me in front of him.
There was an awkward silence while everyone tried to think of something innocuous yet interesting to discuss.
“I shaved my legs today,” I said. Yep. Master of conversation.
“Just your legs?” James asked with fake innocence.
I glared at him in disgust. We might not be worst enemies now, but he wasn’t going to get away with saying something that abjectly disgusting.
“My armpits too,” I answered. “They were really hairy. I wouldn’t have bothered, but it was holding in too much body heat.”
Another awkward silence.
“I like your dress, Charlie,” said James.
Better.
“Thanks. That’s where part of the rent money went,” I explained. “I bought a lot of clothes.”
“What else did you buy?” he asked. The others were just staring at us in stunned silence. I know – me and James McKenzie engaging in pleasant, vaguely normal small talk. This was worthy of staring.
“Uh, a blender.”
“What brand?”
“A Vitamix.”
“Oh wow!” said James with far more enthusiasm than I had expected. “They’re amazing!”
“I know, right?”
“You could blend a baby with one of them!”
“Exactly!”
I hadn’t realised how loudly we’d been talking until some people nearby turned to look at us, slightly distressed. Os and the men on the couch looked a little shocked, too.
“Not that
we would actually blend children,” James reassured them.
Stacey, Lea, Jo, Os and the guys on the couch let out slightly forced laughs.
“Shall we go get drinks, Charlie?” James said, obviously looking for an excuse to make an exit.
“Yes, let’s,” I said, keen to leave the weird mood here behind.
I followed him to the bar where he bought me a drink – a tonic water and lime since I was driving. He had some sort of boutique beer I’d never heard of.
“I don’t know how you can drink that stuff,” I said, as we walked over to a free lounge near the railing. The VIP floor was kind of like a massive balcony. It had a view of the nightclub downstairs, so you could watch people dancing and admire the lights on the dance floor. From the lounge where I was, you could even see drunk people staggering to the toilets. Prime seating. “Beer is so bitter. And yeasty. Like fizzy bread liquid.”
“It’s kind of an acquired taste. Although after the other night, I’m glad you’re taking it easy on the drinking.”
I cringed at the memory of that night. Or rather, at the lack of memory.
“You got me drunk.”
“I didn’t mean to! I only gave you two shots!”
“You know I’m a cheap drunk.”
“I do now.”
“You’ve known me my whole life, James McKenzie. Don’t try to pretend you didn’t do it on purpose.”
“You actually think I would try to get you drunk?” he asked.
I just looked at him and took a sip of my tonic water without breaking eye contact.
“OK, maybe I wanted you to get a little tipsy,” he said. “I thought it might slightly impact your gross-motor skills and make for a more interesting bowling match. I didn’t mean to get you so drunk you’d throw up on my shoes.”
“I did not do that!”
“No, well, most of it went on the carpet.”
“That didn’t –” Suddenly a flash of that night came back to me. I was sitting on McKenzie’s couch next to him, watching Pokémon on Netflix, when – “Oh my god, I did throw up on you!”
“Had you actually forgotten?” he asked. He looked slightly concerned.
“No, no, of course not,” I said quickly.
“Charlie!”
“Well, I’d already had a drink before I left the party! I was further ahead than you. And there was peer pressure!”
“There was literally only me there, and you’ve never before struggled with doing exactly the opposite of what I ask you to.”
It was true. We’d gone to a bowling alley that James owned, which wasn’t due to open for a couple of weeks. There had only been the two of us, which was why we’d been doing shots. It would have been weird if there were families with kids there. Not to mention dangerous. I had trouble throwing the balls in the right direction at the best of times.
After James annihilated me at bowling, surprising no one, we’d gone back to his house. Watched Pokémon. I’d vomited on him. He’d cleaned it up. And then…
Oh god.
Time to change the subject.
“Who invited you?” In hindsight, that seemed a little aggressive. By way of explanation, I continued: “I just wouldn’t have thought that you and Stace were that close.” Other than, like, in her head.
He laughed. “Lionel invited me.”
This piqued my interest. “You know him? What’s he like?”
“To be honest, I don’t really know him that well. We’ve just met at business things.”
“Oh, right. Because you’re a serious businessman these days.”
He laughed kind of bitterly. “Sure. I think most people just see me as Frank McKenzie’s idiot nephew more than a businessman.”
Even though he’d inherited his rich uncle’s estate, James still worked his day job as a police officer. The image of him working in an office, investing money and generally doing rich people things, didn’t quite mesh in my head.
“Can’t trust new money.”
“Apparently not,” he said. “Lionel seems alright, though. He obviously wants us to do business together.”
“Right, so you’re just here to network with the boys’ club. Next thing you’ll start donating to conservative political parties like a true capitalist swine.”
His jaw dropped open in fake indignation. “Is that really what you think of me?”
“All the signs point that way.”
“What signs? Having money and attending a party?”
“Exactly. Compelling evidence.”
Jo, Lea, Stacey and Os were walking towards us. James didn’t realise they were all behind him as he spoke. “OK, you’re right. I eat poor people’s children for breakfast.”
“You need to stop joking about killing babies,” said Os, directing a look of thinly veiled hatred towards James.
“He’s not joking,” I responded.
Jo plonked down on the couch on the other side of James, a little too close for anybody in the group to be comfortable.
“Sorry, did you two want some time alone?” Lea asked, looking between James and me. Everyone else laughed loudly, although I was pretty sure Lea hadn’t been joking. She suspected that something was up between us. My other friends were blinded by our past of hatred and property damage, but since Lea and I had only really become friends recently, she had the advantage of an outsider’s perspective. Oh dear.
“James was just threatening to evict us!” I blurted, trying to throw Lea off the trail. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. She looked pissed.
“What the fuck? I was not at all,” James protested, but it was too late. I felt a little bad for throwing him to the dogs, but I didn’t want anyone to think that I was getting friendly with him. My friends would not forgive me for a transgression like that. Better they murder him than me.
“James McKenzie,” Lea began, and I could tell she was ready to launch into a long one. “What the actual fu–”
“Ah, there you are, my dear,” said a voice I didn’t recognise. Whoever it was had an accent that I had trouble placing. I looked away from Lea to identify who had spoken and saw a large (be-muscled, thick-necked, bald, and terrifying) man standing with his arm around Stacey’s shoulders. Lonny Lionel, I guessed. Yeesh.
Stacey had varied interests when it came to men. Once upon a time it had been pretty boys like McKenzie, lean and sporty (a freakish trait, if you asked me – ‘sporty’, urgh), messy dark hair and a winning grin (according to some people, but not me, no siree), then she’d moved onto geriatric rich guys, and now this dude. Thug, Mafia, Nazi sympathiser, pro football player – I wasn’t sure which he was, but I didn’t like any of the options.
“Lonny! You haven’t met my friends yet,” said Stacey, and went around the circle doing introductions. “And I assume you know James, seeing as I didn’t invite him.”
“He’s probably just gate crashing,” I interjected.
James looked at me exasperatedly, before his eyes widened in realisation. He knew I was picking a fight intentionally. He set his jaw, gearing up for an argument.
“Some of us don’t have to gate-crash parties, Charlie. We actually get invited.”
Excellent. He was playing along.
“Some of us don’t joke about murdering children and feasting on their remains. I guess we’re just very different people,” I responded.
McKenzie’s bottom lip quivered and I could tell he was biting it to keep from smiling.
“Could you two just be civil for once in your lives?” Stacey said.
“You’re right, Stace,” I said. “I’ll rein it in.”
“Sorry,” said James.
“Although I don’t understand why someone as rich as James would get so hung up on a rent payment being a little late,” I continued.
“Maybe if you weren’t so terrible with money, you’d be rich too,” said James.
“That is not how the economy works and you know it.”
“Guys!” said Os, so loudly that we both
shut up and looked at him. He glared at us. We remained silent. It was fair enough, really. Os was kind of the only person here who really knew how the economy worked.
“It is good to meet you all,” Lionel said. “Any friend of Stacey’s is a friend of mine.” He turned to me and said, “If you need to borrow money, I could help you out.”
Perhaps he was a loan shark?
“It’s fine,” said James. “Like she said, I don’t need it right away.” He looked right into my eyes. “You can owe me a favour.”
I rolled my eyes at him, ignoring the sudden quickening of my heartbeat. Not in, you know, a sexy way. It was just that the idea of McKenzie having any sort of power over me was, frankly, quite scary. Sure, we were kind of civil now, but that could change at any moment.
“You’re Charlie, yes?” Lionel asked, looking at me. I nodded. “I think someone mentioned that you work for Adam Baxter.”
“I work for Harry Baxter,” I corrected. Harry, Adam’s father, was the person who had hired me. He owned the company, but was often out of town setting up new offices. Adam pretty much ran the Gerongate branch, but I liked Harry better. As you might have gathered from the events that had taken place earlier that evening, Adam and I weren’t exactly besties.
“Yes,” said a voice from behind me. “She works for me.”
Great. Adam was here.
I turned to face him and shrugged, explaining, “You weren’t the one who hired me.”
“I certainly wasn’t.”
See? Total. Prick.
“Mr Baxter, surely you are not saying something rude about my Stacey’s dear friend,” said Lionel. Maybe I’d been too quick to judge and I’d misread him. Now I kind of liked him. He was sticking up for me!
“Of course not,” said Adam. “She does admirable work as a filing clerk.”
James snorted with laughter. I shot him a look. He shrugged. You were the one who started this, his facial expression said. Which was true, but annoying.
James turned away from me, looking to Lionel and Adam in turn. “You’re both coming tomorrow, right?”