“Around five o’clock.”
“So, right before the fire.”
“Yeah.” Natasha put her hand on her back. “Vee, I’m so sorry.”
Victoria pursed her lips together and felt the heat rising to her forehead. She inhaled deeply through her nose and then said, “You know, Natasha, I don’t think Will was ever faithful in our marriage.”
“I know. Vee, you were so much better than him.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know why I married him.”
“I do! He swept you off your feet, in every way possible. But it was all for show, we know that now.”
She took a deep breath and leaned back. “So who is this girl?”
“I don’t know. But, I’ve been thinking…you should tell the police about it.”
“You think she might have had something to do with the fire?”
“Who knows? And that’s exactly why you should tell them.”
Victoria contemplated. “I might have another way of finding out who she is and if she was involved.”
Chapter 9
Natasha zipped up her faux fur jacket as she walked down the steps of the Four Seasons. Fall was in the air and she loved it.
After having one more round at the bar, she and Victoria went back up to the suite, ate some Chinese food and Natasha hugged her goodnight. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her friend. She was very aware that she was the only person Victoria really let into her personal life, and Natasha didn’t take that lightly. She was ready and willing to help her friend in any way possible.
As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she suddenly got the indescribable feeling that someone was watching her. She took a few glances around but didn’t see anyone looking in her direction. Thinking it might just be the vodka playing tricks on her, she shook it off.
A few more steps and she still felt uneasy. She glanced over her shoulder. Walking behind her was an old married couple holding hands and a female jogger just beyond them. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Cars whizzed by on the street, the sound of music from a local bar and laughter from college students filled the air. A normal downtown Austin evening. She should feel comfortable. But she didn’t.
Picking up her pace, she gripped her purse straps a little tighter.
Just get to the car, Tasha.
Her pulse picked up as she quickened her pace even more, almost to a jog. She was almost to the parking garage when she had a flashback that a parking lot was the murder location in the latest horror flick she watched.
Well, shit, she thought. She needed to stop watching those damn movies.
She paused at the entrance, hoping her knight in shining armor would show up and walk her safely to her car. But, no Knight. No white horse. In fact, not a single person was around.
She took a deep breath, took one last glance over her shoulder and walked into the garage.
No music, no laughter, no noise at all as she opened the door to the stairwell. Goosebumps raised on her arms as she jogged up the stairs. Her heels clicked on each concrete step, almost in perfect rhythm with her elevated heartbeat. She pushed through the door to the second floor and spotted her car. Relief washed over her.
She was halfway to her car when she heard the door to the stairwell open and close shut, echoing against the walls. Her stomach fell to the floor. She stopped and turned around.
She was completely alone on the second floor, other than whoever the hell just opened the door.
Her heart started to pound like a hammer in her chest.
She turned back around and broke out in a jog. Just about thirty more feet to go. Fumbling for her keys, she glanced back over her shoulder. Who the hell opened the door?
She raised her key fob and as she unlocked her door, an ear piercing shrill echoed off the walls. She swallowed a scream, froze, her pulse pounding.
A black cat skirted out from under her car and ran like crazy across the lot.
“Damn you!” She exhaled. A cat.
Catching her breath, she jumped in her car, locked the doors and reversed out of the parking spot, scanning the area for whoever had opened the door behind her. Besides a handful of empty cars, she still appeared to be alone on the second floor.
She shook her head, feeling silly and embarrassed as she rounded the corner and descended down ramp.
She didn’t notice the man standing in the shadows.
* * * *
Danny dragged himself up his apartment steps. It was already eleven o’clock and it had been a hell of a day. On his way out of the station, he got called to a hostage stand-off at a local pawn shop. Some eighteen-year-old druggie, trying to steal a gun. It took four hours to convince the kid to release the hostage, and two minutes after that he was on the ground in handcuffs.
It was days like this that made Danny miss the Teams even more than usual. As a SEAL, he ran critical missions, most to directly defend the safety of the American people. He thrived on the importance and intensity of those missions. But now, as a Texas cop, he fought mostly drunk drivers, drug dealers, gang members and thugs–people who were wasting their lives for the hell of it.
Today, he had looked into the eyes of a cracked-out teenager and wanted to punch him in the face and tell him to turn his life around. Danny was a firm believer that no matter what your circumstance or where you came from, you truly could be anything you wanted to be. It just took hard work and perseverance.
He unlocked his apartment door and his finely tuned instinct immediately kicked in. He drew his weapon and slowly opened the door. Inside was dark, not a light on. He listened, but heard nothing. He glanced over his shoulder to confirm no one else was outside, then he silently stepped over the threshold and scanned the living room. Clear.
He was halfway to the kitchen when he heard something in his bedroom. Glancing around the corner, a soft glow seeped through the crack under the door. Weapon drawn, he stepped to the door and listened. Silence.
One short inhale, then he swung open the door and swept his weapon across the room.
“Danny!”
Dressed in a see-through, red lace negligee, hair down and hard nipples on full display, his ex-wife sat up in his bed, shocked.
“Damn it, Crissy!” He pointed down his gun. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She motioned around at the candle lit room and bottle of champagne on the nightstand. “What the hell does it look like I’m doing here?”
Taking a second to soak the situation in, he put his gun back in its holster and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. “I could have killed you.”
“I see that.”
He stood, dumbstruck for a moment. “How the hell did you get in?”
She smiled a mischievous smile. “I learned a thing or two from you, you know.”
“You broke into my apartment?”
“Yep, just like you showed me. Your lock sucks, Danny.”
“Mental note to fix that immediately.” His eyes trailed from hers down her neck and to her flawless chest. His skin prickled just looking at her nipples.
She smiled and swept back her blonde curly hair. “I’ve been waiting for you for two hours.”
He shook his head trying to get it together. “I was working.”
She sat up on her knees, legs spread. The soft candlelight danced across her lean body. Eyes locked on his, she trailed her manicured fingernail down her breast to her belly button. Danny’s pulse picked up, his animalistic need for sex kicked in. She bent over on all fours and crawled to the nightstand, picking up the champagne bottle. “Let me pour you a drink.”
His mind was telling him to say ‘no thanks’, but his pants were telling him something else.
She held the bottle in-between her knees, fingered the cork and popped it across the room. Champagne bubbled up and oozed from the tip of the bottle. Danny felt his pants begin to tighten.
“Crissy…” Danny stood frozen in the same spot.
“Shhhh, baby.” S
he sipped from the oozing bottle, the froth dripping off her chin onto her breasts. With a seductive smirk, she wiped the champagne from her breast, lifted the lace negligee and trailed her finger below her belly button.
“You always did like the flavor of champagne.” Her finger disappeared underneath her panties for a moment before she pulled it out and slithered off the bed. “Relax, Danny. Just don’t think.”
That didn’t take much effort. His mind was already a mush, clouded with sexual desire. She stepped up to him toe-to-toe, leaned forward and pressed her chest against his. As she put her hands on his hips, she looked into his eyes with a look that reminded him of the first time they’d made love.
His heart started pounding, his cock grew hard and pulsated.
She swept her hands over his butt and up his back. Keeping his arms straight at his side, Danny closed his eyes and inhaled. He needed this. He needed to have sex. A man needed sex.
Her whole body pressed against his. She trailed her hands from his back, to his stomach and down to his pants. Lightly, she ran a single finger across his bulge.
His breath picked up as she began to undo his belt.
Giving in–he was only human after all–he lifted his arms and ran his fingers through her hair. He’d always loved her hair. He grabbed hold of the blonde strands as she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Lifting his shirt, she placed her mouth on his hot, ripped chest. Her warm, moist breath against his skin gave him goosebumps. He already felt like he was going to explode. He’d lost all control of rational thought.
She ran her tongue down his chest, down his stomach and slowly got onto her knees. He lost all sense of rational thought.
Inhaling deeply, he grabbed the dresser as she pulled down his pants and removed his shoes. His boxers slid to the floor as she trailed her tongue up his inner thigh. His hard cock began to throb in response.
He felt her warm, moist breath between his legs as she began to pull away, tease him.
That was it. He had to have her. He had to have sex. He bent over, picked her up by her waist and threw her onto the bed. She smiled as he got on top of her and pulled the lace negligee over her head.
She was panting now. Squirming, ready. He knew that look in her eyes. It was the same look she had the first time they were intimate.
The first time they were intimate. A long, long time ago.
He froze. There was his ex-wife, laying on his bed, completely naked except for a thong. There she was, laying on the bed that he had to buy after she betrayed him. After she betrayed their marriage and threw away their vows. After that bitch fucked his best friend.
His eyes narrowed. He felt his head clearing, his desire wavering. She lay still, her eyes wide at his gaze.
“What?” Her voice was low and sensual.
He pushed himself off the bed. “Get out.”
She sat up, glanced down at his boxers laying crumpled on the floor. “You’re joking.”
“The hell I am. Get out, Crissy, I’m serious.” He pulled on his jeans. “And don’t come back here.”
Embarrassed and infuriated, she covered her bare breasts and scooted off the bed. “I don’t believe you.”
Aloof, he raised his eyebrows. “Believe it, sweetheart.” He was in control again, and it felt good.
Scrambling to get dressed she said, “You’re such a jerk, Danny.”
He laughed in her face. “Am I? Am I the jerk?”
“Yes!” She grabbed her keys. “You must be seeing someone else!”
He smirked. He enjoyed letting her think that.
“Bye, Danny.” She turned around. “And you blew it.”
“Actually, it looked like you were about to, sweetheart.”
She slammed the door.
The smirk faded from Danny’s face. He walked over to the window and watched her stomp down the stairs, slam the car door and squeal out of the parking lot. He was proud of himself for not giving in–he’d passed that test with flying colors. He’d succeeded at reminding her of how she single-handedly ruined their marriage. He also succeeded at feeling guilty for throwing her out. Although he would never get over what she did to him, he still hated to see her upset.
Sighing, he closed the curtains, walked to the kitchen and poured two fingers of whiskey. Another long night, of course.
He had just lifted the glass to his lips when his phone buzzed, alerting him to a text message. He had a moment of hope that it might be Crissy telling him that she was going to come back and fuck his brains out whether he liked it or not.
You up?
Yep.
You better sit down for this. Or, quit jacking off at least.
Blow me, Jenny. What’s going on?
Burn vic from the King house–NOT WILLIAM.
A spike of adrenaline pumped in his veins…the same feeling he got right before something big was about to happen.
What? Who is it?
Unidentified right now. But the burned body does not belong to William King.
Are you sure?
Don’t insult me.
See you first thing in the morning.
Better bring me coffee, dickhead.
Danny hung up and blinked a few times. Rubbing his head in deep thought, he re-read the texts twice, and gulped his whiskey. If the body that burned to a crisp wasn’t William King, who was it? And more importantly, where was William?
He thought of Victoria. What was she hiding? Was she hiding William? Why?
He poured another drink and said to himself, “Looks like I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Mrs. Henry.”
* * * *
Victoria hugged Natasha goodnight, made herself a drink and took a seat outside on the balcony. Not a single cloud drifted in the dark night sky and the stars twinkled like diamonds. The evening was cool with a light breeze, carrying the crisp scent of fall. She kicked up her feet, laid her head back and listened to the street noise from downtown. The music, the laughter, the commuters. She longed for a carefree life. One with no bad memories, no chains holding her down. No drama.
She dreamed of a quaint house, a perfect husband who loved her more than anything, and their little kids playing in the backyard. She wanted a family. A solid, loving family. She wanted no more pain in her life.
Maybe it was time to open up the past. Maybe it was time to face her monsters. She picked up her cell phone and twisted it in her hands while she contemplated her next move.
Slowly, she dialed the number.
“Hello?”
“Hi.”
“Mrs. Henry, it’s a pleasure to hear from you.”
“Am I calling too late?”
“No, not at all.” Pause. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
Click.
Victoria’s stomach tickled with nerves as she walked back inside. She paced the suite until she heard a knock at the door.
“Hi, come in.”
Anthony stepped inside, smelling of musk cologne as he stepped past her. He wore grey slacks with a white linen shirt, untucked. His hair perfectly quaffed as usual. His eyes penetrating.
He looked around the presidential suite. “Well, if you can’t be at home, this is the next best thing.”
She smiled. “Would you like a drink?”
“Sure. Tequila if you have it.”
Victoria retrieved his drink from the bar and sat on the couch. “Please, sit.”
Curiosity hung in the air. “Mr. Ramos…”
“Anthony.”
“Anthony.” She paused. Had she thought this through? After all, she barely knew Anthony. On the other hand, her carefully crafted world had been tossed upside down and her life was already being dissected by the irritating Lieutenant Dabrowski. She needed help. What did she have to lose?
Ignoring the apprehension she felt in her stomach, she said, “I have something I’d like you to look into, additionally.”
He leaned f
orward. “Yes?”
“A woman I saw with my husband.”
“Do you have a name?”
“No. But I can pull a picture from the gallery security cameras.”
“Was she breaking in?”
“No, nothing like that. She was in a deep conversation with my husband a few days before the house burned. She also was with him the day he died.”
He sipped his tequila. “What are your initial thoughts?”
She paused. “The obvious is an affair.” She shook her head and sarcastically said, “Which would be shocking, of course.”
“Your husband was unfaithful?”
She laughed a humorless laugh.
He scooted to the edge of his seat, closer to her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It is what it is.” Pause. “So, the obvious is an affair, but it seems suspicious that she was with him the day he died. And they were arguing.”
“You saw them?”
“No, a friend did.”
“When can you get me the picture?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Morning?”
“Possibly. I’m considering taking this information to the police first thing.”
Anthony stood, concern washed over his face.
Victoria cocked her head. “What?”
“Victoria.” He took a seat close to her on the couch and sat his drink on the coffee table. “I’ve uncovered a few things already.”
Her stomach sank. “Yes?”
“Your past…your father’s death.”
She looked down.
“Can you tell me about it?”
Heat rose to her head. She looked up, anger in her eyes. “It was a murder, Anthony. My father was murdered, you—I guess you already know that.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“I barely remember.” Lie.
“Do you know who did it?”
“Of course not.” She eyed him. “Do you?”
He shook his head. “Not yet, but, I believe there may be a connection to Williams death.”
The shock didn’t jilt her system as something in her had been expecting to hear these words. “What connection?”
“I’m not sure, yet. I also believe there’s a connection to a few of the local cops.” He put his hand on her knee. “They’re dirty.”
Lethal Legacy Page 8