Something to Dye For (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #2)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “You’ve already said that,” I reminded him.

  “Well, now it’s for sure.”

  “You can’t blame me for being relieved. I have to ride all the way to Cinci and back with my partner. Forgive me if I don’t want to be stuck with a dud,” I told Adrian. “You’d feel the same way.” Being stuck in a car with someone was an intimate experience, not the same as sharing a bed, but you were trapped in a small space with them with very little in the way of entertainment to distract you if they were horrible to be around. My phone chimed in my pocket with an incoming text and Adrian and I both knew who it was from. “You’re an asshole, Adrian.”

  I couldn’t keep the smile off of my face as I read Josh’s message. Behave! Don’t make me piss on your leg before you leave the house each morning. Love you!

  He wouldn’t have a moment’s doubt if he fully accepted how crazy in love I was with him. He knew I loved him, but I doubt he grasped the depth of it. Hell, I was still coming to terms with it. The text I sent back was short and sincere. No one can replace my Sunshine. Love you more!

  Adrian and I exchanged a bro-hug and went our separate ways, but I knew I’d be texting or speaking to him throughout the day. I wondered if we were going to have a debate as to who drove, but it was solved pretty quickly when he saw my Charger in the parking lot.

  “You drive your own vehicle?” he asked once we hit the road.

  “Yeah, but I get compensated for mileage, oil changes, and tire rotations,” I replied. “I typically don’t rack up a lot of mileage under normal circumstances.”

  “Yeah, these are anything but normal,” he commented. “I was sorry to hear that Sampson was harassing you and your boyfriend.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I told him, but something in his voice told me that he felt that way.

  “I should’ve gone to the sheriff when I heard him making homophobic comments about you after Nate was found dead,” Dorchester said. “I’m sorry if my silence aided him in making things more difficult for you guys.”

  Billy didn’t harass us because we were gay, he did it because he wanted to cause trouble between Josh and me so he could step back into Josh’s life. I wasn’t going to say that to him though. Although the truth would most likely filter out into the community, it wasn’t going to be through my lips.

  “I appreciate your apology, Dorchester, but it’s not necessary,” I told him.

  We spent the rest of the trip talking about the upcoming March Madness tournament, which reminded me of the scornful look on Josh’s face when he realized his television was going to be showing more sports. I could’ve gone home to watch basketball the other night after my punishment, but I wasn’t really too eager to return to my empty house nor did he seem eager for me to leave. It was a conversation that we needed to have, but I was hesitant to bring it up. I wasn’t sure how well my heart would handle hearing that Josh didn’t want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him.

  My first impression of Detectives Weston Jade and Carl Harris was that they seemed like upstanding guys that were willing to work with us, but I had been fooled in the past by a Good Ole Boy routine. IA had cleared them, as well as me, of having acted improperly in regards to Nate Turner’s investigation and death so I was giving them the same benefit of the doubt that I hoped they were giving me.

  The four of us gathered around a table in a conference room to go over the case. Jade passed out blue file folders containing the interview notes and photos of evidence from all the agencies involved. “Has there been any evidence or rumors that Nate Turner was involved in trafficking or distributing drugs?” I asked.

  “Oddly, no,” Harris said. “We’d sent undercover cops into his club plenty of times and there was never any sign of dealing or trafficking out of that establishment.”

  “We’ve asked Detectives Seviere and Drake to join us in case you have questions about the undercover investigations they ran. They should be here any minute,” Jade said.

  I continued to look through their notes while we waited. “What about the silent partner, Marlon Bandowe?” I asked. “What were your impressions on him?” I noted there wasn’t much written about the man in the notes, which could mean that he just didn’t leave much of an impression or these guys weren’t as thorough as I would’ve preferred.

  “Truthfully,” Jade replied, “he was just kind of there. He appeared wholesome and… boring.” He shrugged indifferently.

  “Sort of nondescript,” added Harris. “Medium height, medium brown hair, average blue eyes. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him.”

  “Except his vehemence about people not knowing he was involved with the club. He kept saying that he had only fronted the startup money and wasn’t involved in the operation of the business,” Jade added.

  “Do you think he felt strongly enough about it to kill or hire a killer?” Dorchester asked. “It seemed to me that Nate’s killing was very personal and it didn’t seem like he was the type to build personal relationships. If he wasn’t running drugs or prostitution, then why was he being threatened? Better yet, why avoid the police if he had nothing to hide?”

  “All things we ask ourselves daily,” Jade admitted. “There are no solid clues to anyone.”

  “What about his family background?” I asked.

  “Well, he was the only child of Charles and Marie Turner. They’re both deceased.”

  “Adopted child,” Harris added. “The Turners were already in their late forties or early fifties when Nate was adopted. They were fairly well off and Nate enjoyed a privileged country club and private school life.”

  “So that explains why his home and personal belongings speak of a larger income than what he earned from the night club,” Dorchester commented.

  “Yes, he inherited quite a bit of money from his folks when they passed,” Jade answered.

  “Did they die at the same time?” I asked the detectives.

  “No,” Harris said then flipped to the page that had the notes about the parents. “Mrs. Turner died of lung cancer in May of 1999 and Mr. Turner died from a heart attack five months later. An online story I found on the couple indicated that he died from a broken heart.” So Nate didn’t kill his parents for money, he wasn’t peddling drugs from the club, nor was he involved in prostitution. What was he into then? Someone obviously wanted him dead for reasons he didn’t want disclosed. Why?

  There was a knock on the door and two people walked in. First, was a tall redheaded woman and behind her was a man I recognized, even if it had been a year since I last saw him. I swallowed hard when his eyes lit with recognition also. I chewed the inside of my cheek and hoped that working with him wouldn’t be awkward.

  “Detectives Allyson Drake and Paul Seviere,” Jade said in introduction, “meet Detectives Winchester and Wyatt.”

  “Dorchester,” John corrected. “Winchesters are the dudes who hunt demons and stuff on a television show. I’m not nearly as cool or bad ass.”

  “Sorry about that,” Jade said. I wasn’t sure if we was apologizing for the mistake that he made or because Dorchester wasn’t as cool or bad ass as the Winchesters.

  Drake and Seviere came over and shook both our hands. Nothing was said between Paul–now that I knew his name–and me. What was to discuss really? We hooked up at a hotel near Vibe one Saturday night a year ago and never saw each other again.

  “It’s good to meet you,” was exchanged between the four of us and everyone took a seat.

  “Detective Wyatt was someone that Nate Turner reached out to when the threats started arriving via email,” Harris said. I listened to him explain to the new arrivals the events that took place between my meeting with Turner and him being killed in my county.

  “So you think he was coming to find you?” Detective Drake asked.

  “That was the original theory,” I replied then told them about the drug bust and Billy Sampson’s arrest. “Was there any serious rumors or hints that he was moving drugs out of the cl
ub? We’re just trying to see if the two cases are tied together somehow.” The more information I heard about Nate made me think that they were two separate incidents. As much as we wanted to tie everything up with a Billy Sampson bow, we just couldn’t.

  “None,” Seviere said. “Sure, some of the club patrons had their own stash that they brought in, but no one even hinted that there was anything good I could score there. I didn’t just show up once or twice and ask either, I’m talking I was there as a regular club goer for more than six months and nothing.”

  “We didn’t find anything during the prostitution investigation,” Drake said. “Nothing. If he was breaking the law, then he was brilliant at it.”

  “Knowing what all of you know about the circumstances, how likely do you think it is that Nate Turner is connected to Billy Sampson’s drug bust?” I asked.

  “Not likely. Right?” Seviere said then looked at the rest of the group to see if they agreed. It was a unanimous agreement that we were looking at two separate cases.

  “So, we push all talk of Billy Sampson aside and focus solely on Nate Turner,” Dorchester said.

  I had thumbed through the interviews but didn’t have time to go through them all in detail before we starting talking. I decided to read them thoroughly at home, but for the time being I wanted the highlights. I started with Dorchester. “Who claimed the body?”

  “His lawyer did,” he replied.

  “What about the interviews you did with his employees?” I asked him. “Did anyone give any reason why someone would want to kill him? Any fights with vendors, city officials who wanted to close him down, or a religious group who protested the immorality of a gay club? Anything?”

  “Nothing,” Dorchester said. “They all seemed to really like working for him. He had a reputation as a hard ass and a playboy, but his employees didn’t see him that way. They spoke highly of him.”

  I asked some follow-up questions as they came to me, but I didn’t learn anything new after nearly two hours of talking about the case. I blew out a frustrated breath and said, “I want to set up interviews with all of them again, but only after I’ve had a chance to review all of the notes. I’m pretty good at the bad cop thing,” I told them. Of course, the last time I played the part I was knocked unconscious, but they didn’t need to know that. “Besides, I’ve been to that club a time or two and I can promise you that not all of his employees loved him.”

  I’d seen the looks that some of them gave him when he came out of his office. In most instances, people didn’t like to speak ill of the dead. In others, they had something to hide. What we needed to determine was if either applied to Nate Turner.

  “Can you tell me where the bathroom is?” I asked Jade. “It’s a long trip back.”

  “Sure, it’s the…”

  “I’m heading that way too,” Seviere said, cutting him off. “I’ll show you.” I knew he wanted to have a private word with me so I wasn’t surprised when he said, “I’m not out at work,” once he was certain we were alone in the restroom.

  “I have no desire to change that,” I assured him. “What happened between us was a long time ago and is no one’s business.”

  I saw the relief wash over his face before he smiled at me, very similar to the one he gave me the first night we met. I had a suspicion I knew where his mind was going and I wanted to make my position clear to avoid any more awkwardness than already existed. I looked at my watch and said, “I need to start heading back. I have things to wrap up at the station before my dinner plans with my boyfriend.”

  “Ah, I don’t want to hold you up. I’m sure we’ll see each other again before the case gets wrapped up,” he said. Although I appreciated his confidence, I figure it was more like if the case got wrapped up.

  Dorchester and I got on the road as soon as I finished using the bathroom. I was sure that Adrian would be glad to get a break from his new partner, if he hadn’t killed him already.

  “Let’s go rescue your partner from mine,” Dorchester said, reading my mind. I was once again grateful for the hand that fate dealt me and hoped that Adrian wouldn’t retaliate too terribly.

  I REGRETTED IT THE minute I sent Adrian that childish text asking if Gabe’s temporary new partner was cute. It made me look extremely insecure when I mostly wasn’t and I was reasonably certain that Adrian was going to tease Gabe about it. When Adrian told me that the new guy was fine, not cute, then I knew for a fact he was going to tease Gabe, so I bit the bullet and texted Gabe in hopes that I beat Adrian to the punch. Then Gabe sent me the sweetest damn text that made my insides melt.

  I sat there at my dining table staring at the change of address card that I picked up from the post office for the longest time. I had filled it out and all it needed was Gabe’s signature to make it official. Was I basing my decision to ask Gabe to move in with me on genuine affection or fear? There was no doubt in my mind how much I loved Gabe, but there was still that nagging fear that Gabe would wake up one day, look at me, and wonder what the hell he was doing with me. It was a demon I had to battle on my own because Gabe had never given me a reason to believe that he wanted anyone else. I was his Sunshine.

  Then I had to question: was having a healthy dose of uncertainty a bad thing? Wasn’t it good that I didn’t take Gabe and our relationship for granted or was it arrogant to believe that he could never find someone else? When did a healthy dose of uncertainty turn into something dangerous to a person’s psyche? What was the right balance of being confident that your man loved you without strutting around like an ignorant peacock? I had seen confident people’s relationships fail just as I had for the insecure ones. Why? I felt it was because the proper compromises weren’t met. I wasn’t just talking about food and television choices, but personality compromises. Opposites attracted, there was no doubt about it, but it took a lot of effort to make those relationships work.

  Gabe was worth putting in the time–we were worth putting in the time. I needed be sure he felt the same way before I made such a big leap. I found myself evaluating things for so long that I didn’t realize it was time to open the salon until Meredith came upstairs and found me staring at the form. Hell, I didn’t even do my preopen inspection of the salon to make sure it was perfect for our clients.

  Meredith sat across from me and reached for my hand. “He is madly in love with you, Josh.”

  “I know that he is,” I replied. Now, is the part I left out.

  “You’re just worried that it’s too soon or are you afraid that you’re ready and he’s not?” she asked softly.

  “Both,” I replied honestly. “Mere, it’ll suck hairy balls if I tell him I want him to move in or I ask him to and he says no.” She shook her head like she didn’t see it happening. One minute I agreed with her then the next I was right back to having my doubts cast a huge shadow over my confidence.

  “I know that you’ll find the right words, way, and time to bring it up with Gabe. Even if he says he isn’t ready it doesn’t mean that he never will be,” she reminded me. I nodded my head in agreement then she asked, “Ready to get your day going?”

  I folded up the completed change of address card and put it in my back pocket to remind me of a decision I wanted and needed to make on a future I wanted and needed to have with Gabe. I picked up Savage’s cage and followed Meredith down the steps. I expected him to spew filth, but instead he said, “Big Daddy loves me.” I giggled because Gabe had been working to clean up Savage’s language and those four little words reminded me how much Gabe wanted to be a part of my life.

  “He sure does, Dirty Bird,” I told Savage, as if he knew what the fuck I was saying.

  The decision was made, just like that. If I hadn’t been sure, then the list of songs the radio played that day would’ve convinced me to take a chance, to put love first. Holy fuck, I was starting to sound like one of those fortune cookie messages.

  That day, something happened that never did. I had a cancellation. Gasp! Less confident stylists might
’ve panicked and worried that the end was near, but I accepted it for what it was–a client with the flu. I was actually grateful for a little bit of extra time to treat myself to a delicious lunch at the diner.

  Oddly, it didn’t feel right going there without Gabe, even though I’d gone there without him for twenty-eight years and only a few months with him. I was starting to feel that way about several places, most importantly the place I lay my head down each night. I could quiver in my shoes and worry what would happen when Gabe left me or I could accept that he was in it for the long haul and take the next step to show him that I was too.

  My early morning decision was reaffirmed and I was starved to death. I had just ordered a plate of meatloaf, Brussel sprouts, and baked macaroni and cheese when I was joined by an uninvited, but not altogether unwelcomed, guest. “What’s up, Doc?”

  “A whole lot of nothing much,” Kyle said, taking a seat across from me.

  I don’t know where it came from or why I couldn’t stop the words from spilling from my mouth, but I blurted out, “Were you aware that Gabe didn’t know I cut your hair?”

  “I’m not at all surprised,” Kyle said. The crooked grin on his face told me he wasn’t too upset about it, but I felt terrible. It sounded like I was rubbing it in. “We didn’t connect the way you two did, not even in the beginning when things were new.” Kyle tipped his head and said, “He showed more passion with you in that parking lot kiss then he ever did with me.”

  I knew his receptionist told him all about the kiss Gabe planted on me in his parking lot, but Kyle sounded like he saw it with his own eyes. “How do you know?”

  “Outside camera,” he replied. “Alyssa told me about the hot kiss, but I thought she was exaggerating so I had to see it for myself.” Wow, there was no way in hell I could watch a video of Gabe kissing someone else. It just went to show that they weren’t meant for one another.

  “You thought she was exaggerating because I wasn’t his type?” I asked.