“Yeah, I know. He used to give my dad shit for fucking pennies. But who the hell could he be working with? No one likes the dude, and he’s too stupid to be trusted to cover up a damn murder.”
“Looks like he’s our next person of interest.”
***
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” my dad asked, storming into my office. He slammed the door shut with extra force and stood in front of me, his arms crossed. I got back from the office five minutes ago and had been waiting on the Wilson storm to come through.
I leaned back in my chair and kicked my feet up on my desk. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I answered. “And please knock next time you make a trip in here.”
He took a step forward, his upper lip snarling. “Meeting with Ivy’s parents. I swear to God, if you say one wrong thing, it can come back to bite us in the ass.”
I raised my hand to stop him from going on. “They’re helping me, helping us. They don’t think we did it and feel like the police aren’t doing enough.”
“They’re on the team of our enemy. They may not think we had anything to do with it, but what are their thoughts on John? They may think he’s the guilty one and are trying to get more information on him.”
“No one knows anyone’s ulterior motives right now, but I’m trying to prove to them that all of us are innocent, and you stomping in here like some madman isn’t making it any easier.”
“Then what do you have that’s so great? It better be something good.”
“Ivy was receiving threatening letters,” I disclosed.
He raised a brow. One point for me. “Please tell me you got your hands on those letters.”
I held the papers up in my hand. Lonnie did as promised and sent me the pictures. I’d just finished printing them out. Every single one had been typed out, and according to the inventory report, there was no trace of DNA on them. They were all short and straight to the point.
I grabbed the first one and read it out loud.
“Keep your mouth shut, slut, or you’ll regret it.”
I grabbed the second one.
“I’ve already warned you once. You didn’t listen. Prepare for the consequences, bitch.”
The other three were of similar nature.
Who the fuck wrote these?
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked.
“Yeah. These sound exactly like they’re from John.” His face turned red. I swear he was about to pop a blood vessel. “That motherfucker! He better not be lying to us. I will not let him ruin my business.” He turned around to leave, most likely to confront John, but I stopped him.
“I think Harold … or someone else at the station has something to do with it.”
He froze, but didn’t turn around to look at me. “Go on.”
“There’s hardly anything in the evidence log, and Ivy’s parents said they gave them more than what’s listed. Lonnie said it looked like someone wasn’t even working on the case, which we know is a lie, considering they brought me in. The only things listed are the letters, the statement from her parents saying Gabby and I showed up at their house, and the video footage of us at her apartment.”
He finally turned around to look at me. “Looks like someone is trying to set us and John up, and I bet you Harold is somehow involved.”
“What’s the beef between you two?” I asked. “Why would he want to do this?”
“Let’s just say Harold wasn’t man enough for his wife, and she had to go other places to be satisfied.” His lips formed a confident smirk, causing my stomach to churn. He screwed his best friend’s wife and didn’t even feel one ounce of remorse. The man continued to make me lose respect for him with each passing day.
“Looks like you sticking your dick into places it shouldn’t be brought us into this mess.”
That smirk collapsed into a frown. “That’s what gets all men in trouble: pussy we shouldn’t be craving. John with Ivy. Me with Summer. You with Gabby. That’s our downfall.”
With that, he turned back around and left the room.
***
“So how was work?” Gabby asked, on our way to dinner.
“Interesting,” I answered. “Definitely interesting.”
“I can’t believe Ivy’s parents came to talk to you.” She blew out a breath. “I’m glad they did, though. There’s no way they’d come to you if they thought you were responsible for her death. That’s a big step to prove our innocence.”
My girl was looking good in a body hugging red dress, her hair a wild mess after our quickie session over the bathroom counter. I couldn’t help myself when I had walked in, seeing her in only a bra and panties.
And that’s all I wanted to focus on tonight.
Her and me.
I knew she wanted more, but that was going to have to wait. I needed a moment without work talk. I grabbed her hand in mine and brought it to my lips. “I know, babe. But no more talk about work, John, Ivy, or my dad. Tonight is about us.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
GABBY
“I want to ask you something, but if you don’t want to do it, say no. I promise I won’t get mad if you do,” Dalton said.
We were sitting at the kitchen table after another round of incredible shower sex. The shower had become my new favorite place to get it on.
I was only wearing his t-shirt, sans bra, and panties. That’s what I felt the most comfortable in lately. He looked at me from across the table, bare-chested, and only wearing a pair of shorts.
“Okay,” I drew out. Please don’t be something with your family. Or John.
“Ivy’s parents gave us a list of people she was close with and the contact information of them. I called her old roommate, who was also her best friend growing up. She agreed to meet with us today. I think it would be of our best benefit if another woman is with us, so she won’t feel like she’s getting ambushed by two men.”
He looked nervous, like asking me this was the equivalency of giving him a kidney or something. “So that’s why you just gave me that mind blowing orgasm?” I snapped, shoving my plate forward “You seriously want me to do that?”
He shook his head, his eyes meeting the floor. “Never mind. I was stupid for even asking.”
He looked up when I reached across the table and smacked his shoulder, laughing. “Geez, I’m kidding. This whole situation is seriously killing your sense of humor. Of course I’ll go.”
He blew out a breath and cracked a smile. “Jesus, why did I have to fall in love with one of the biggest smartasses in the world?”
I shrugged, biting into my lower lip. “Maybe you should do something about it. Fuck the smartassness right out of me.”
He got up from his chair and stalked the few steps towards me. He turned my chair around so I faced him. “Mmmm … that might take awhile.” My adrenaline spiked when he opened my legs and pulled his shirt up over my head. “But I’m up for the job.”
***
I frowned when we pulled up to Delaney Melton’s apartment. Ivy’s building had been ritzy – complete with a doorman, amenities, and all that jazz. Delaney’s was quite the contrary. No doorman to be seen. In fact, the entry looked like it was in need of some TLC. It wasn’t the worst. I’d lived in more run-down places with my mom, but it definitely wasn’t luxury living. Ivy had moved up and left her bestie in the dirt.
What a great friend.
I stood in the middle of the two men when we made it to her apartment door and glanced over at Dalton. “You made an appointment, right?” I asked.
He nodded and knocked on the door. “Yes, and she seemed pretty cool on the phone. I guess her and Ivy had some kind of falling out, but she still cares about her and wants to help out in any way she can.”
Perfect.
The door swung open before I had the chance to ask any more questions, and just like the exterior of her building, Delaney was nothing like her friend. Thick, red-rimmed glasses rested on the base of her
slim nose. Her face was make-up free, her black hair thrown into a ponytail, with flyaway strands everywhere. She was sporting a baggy t-shirt and jeans.
How in the hell had these two been best friends?
“Hi … Delaney?” I asked, questioning myself more than her. Maybe we were at the wrong door.
She let out a sigh. “Hi,” she said, her voice soft. She looked between the three of us. “I take it you guys are the ones here to talk to me about Ivy?”
“Yes,” Dalton answered. He held out his hand to shake hers. “This is Gabby and Murphy. Thank you for giving us your time. We really appreciate it.”
“Sure, no problem.” A small, yet uncomfortable smile passed over her lips. Dalton was right. Me tagging along was a good idea. I hoped my presence made her feel more comfortable.
I walked in first, the guys following behind me. The apartment was on the smaller side. The furniture made it seemed even more cramped, but it was extremely clean and organized. A plaid sofa sat in the middle of the room with a TV stand a few feet away. A four-person dining room table was situated on the outside of the kitchen.
“Can we sit at the table?” I asked, pointing at it. She nodded. “Thanks.” I shot her a friendly smile and took the seat next to her while the guys took the chairs across from us. Murphy’s hand went to his pocket to pull out his phone.
“Do you mind if I record this?” he asked, sitting it down on the table. “It’s easier than trying to write everything down. Plus, we won’t miss any details.”
“Sure, that’s no problem,” Delaney answered, timidly. “I’m not sure if I’ll be of any help. I’m only doing this because Ivy’s parents asked me to.”
“We understand,” Dalton said, and Murphy hit the record button. “We all have one goal – to find out who did this to your friend and get justice for her.”
“So how long did you and Ivy known each other?” I asked, ready to get started.
She played with her hands in front of her and took a deep breath before answering. “Since middle school. We were best friends, practically sisters, throughout high school. We decided to move in together after graduation.”
“That’s a pretty long time. Is this the same apartment you guys shared?” She nodded. “Were you roommates with her when she started seeing John?” I stopped to correct myself, just in case Ivy hadn’t been on a first name basis with her boyfriends. “I mean, Governor Gentry?”
“Yes.” Her voice shook before she went on. “After she took that job, even though I tried to talk her into quitting, everything changed. She changed. She turned into a completely different person. She lied about it at first, which I don’t blame her for. I mean, who wants to confess to the world that they’re banging guys for money? But I knew something was up, so she finally broke down and told me.”
“What?” all three of us blurted out at the same time.
Why did shit always seem to get more interesting?
We were always hitting detours – sending us in a completely different path.
“I thought she was an intern for John’s campaign?” Murphy drew out.
“An intern?” She snorted. “That’s definitely not what I’d call it.”
“Then what would you call it?” I asked.
“She was a hooker before John got her a job.” We still couldn’t hide the shock on our faces. “Not like a stand on the street corner kind of hooker.”
“Is there a difference?” I asked.
“There is. Ivy was a high-end escort. I guess that’s a better word for it. It wasn’t long term, probably about a month. She met this girl at the bar she was working at. She told Ivy she knew a way to get fast cash and introduced her to her madam or whatever.”
“Jesus,” I cried out. “So the man was into prostitutes, too?” Why did my mom have to choose the scummiest man to be my father?
“She did small jobs until one of the girls asked her to tag along on one of hers – a better one with more money. She had no idea that meant a threesome and chickened out. The girl was her ride, so Ivy waited in the lobby until her so-called friend got the job done. That’s where she met John. He bought her a drink, and she ended up telling him about the whole situation and her financial problems.” She shook her head. “The girl couldn’t save money. She blew it faster than her paychecks came. According to her, John offered to make a deal with her. He wanted her to be exclusive with him, no more prostituting, and he’d find her a job and help pay her bills.”
Holy fucking shit. The plot kept thickening.
“So did that piss off the pimp or madam or whoever was in charge?” I asked.
“It sure did. Three girls showed up at our doorstep threatening to kick her ass, but we didn’t answer the door.”
“Did they ever come back?” Murphy asked.
“Once. Ivy wasn’t here, so I ignored them again. They haven’t been back since then.” She shrugged. “I figured they’d given up.”
“Great,” Dalton muttered. “So now we’re not sure if she was killed by her madam and a slew of escorts, her sugar daddy, or an ex-boyfriend.”
“Did she have any other boyfriends?” I asked.
She shook her head. “John was pretty much her go-to guy for everything,” she answered. “He was really strict about her seeing other men. She stopped seeing them when he gave her the ultimatum of them or the apartment. She obviously took the million dollar home.”
“So there was no one else?” Dalton pushed. Delaney stayed quiet, her gaze moving to the table. “Delaney, whatever you know will help us find your friend’s killer. Anything you tell us will be completely confidential. You have my word.”
“And if you don’t feel safe, we’re more than happy to get you a hotel that you can stay in until we find them,” I offered, patting her arm.
Things weren’t adding up. The chance that a madam or prostitute waited that long to kill her didn’t sound convincing.
“There was another guy,” she said, timidly. “I never met him, but she told me about him. She said he was manipulative, someone she didn’t trust, but loaded. She only slept with him a few times, but that’s not what he wanted. He paid her for … information.”
“Information?” Murphy repeated. “Information on what?”
“On John.”
The three of us looked at each other.
Bingo.
Now all we needed to do was find this man.
“Do you know a name?” I asked.
“No.”
“What he drives?”
“No. All I know is he used to meet her at some expensive hotel … The Chancellor or something like that.”
“The robe,” Murphy said.
“Is there anything else you think we need to know?” Dalton asked. “Anything you think is important?”
“I think that’s it. Ivy and I had a falling out when she moved out, so I don’t know what she’d been up to since then.”
Dalton grabbed his card and slid it her way. “Thank you. If you think of anything else, give me a call. I don’t care what it is – big or small.”
I patted her arm again. “Yeah, thanks so much, Delaney.”
“Does this mean the cops won’t be coming around anymore?” she asked, when we started to get up.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Dalton answered.
She groaned. “If you talk to them, please ask not to send that chubby cop here again. The dude seriously gives me the creeps.”
“Did you get a name?” Dalton asked, suddenly interested.
“Harold. All he kept asking me about was John and if Ivy was scared of him. It was weird. He also kept asking me if I’d testify against him.”
“If he comes back, give him my card,” Dalton said.
“I guess it’s time we finally visited the Chancellor,” Murphy said, from behind us while we walked down the stairs. He tapped my shoulder. “You want to tag along?”
“I think I’ll pass on that,” I answered, opening up the door and heading back to Dalton
’s car. “I’ll leave visiting the hooker hotel to you guys.”
“So I was thinking,” Murphy said, from the backseat when we all slammed our doors shut.
“Yeah?” I asked.
He smiled a childish grin. “If you have a boy, I have the perfect name for him.”
“Let me guess … Murphy?”
He pointed my way. “How did you know? That name must’ve been on the top of your guy’s list.”
“Oh hell no,” Dalton cut in. “I’m not naming my child after a law that states that anything that can go wrong will go wrong. That’s like setting them up for disaster.” He looked over at me. “Please tell me you’re not a fan of the name?”
“That’s rude,” Murphy said, faking offense. “You could’ve just said no.”
“Then no,” Dalton and I said in unison, and Murphy cracked up in laughter.
Baby names were the last thing on my priority list.
The only name I wanted to know at the moment was the guy who’d been paying Ivy for John info.
***
“So …. I want to ask you something,” Cora said, walking into the living room of the condo. It was my second time hearing that question today, and I hoped hers wasn’t as serious as Dalton’s. “If you don’t like the idea, tell me.”
I had Dalton drop me off at home before they went on to their next stop. Going to that hotel was definitely something I didn’t want to get into.
“Okay,” I drew out. “Shoot.”
A grin erupted along her glossy pink lips. “I know it’s kind of early and all, but I want to help throw your baby shower. I’m leaving for school at the end of the summer, which means I’ll miss out on all of the action if you have it later.” Her grin turned into a pout. “This is your first baby shower. I want to decorate it, plan it, do everything on my Pinterest board.”
I laughed. “It’s definitely early.” I was only close to eleven weeks along, according to my doctor that Dalton and I visited yesterday. “I don’t even know what the gender is yet.” Didn’t you need to know these things before throwing a shower? Did I need pink or blue balloons?
Breaking Karma Page 11