“I don’t hear you asking me to quit. You’re worried.”
“Yeah.”
“I think we should table this discussion for now because we’re on vacation, and we should be laughing and having lots of sex.”
Her frown turns into a smirk.
“When do we have to go back?”
“We can go anytime,” I reply.
“Let’s stay here, in the treehouse, one more day.”
My hand glides down her side to her hip.
“Okay, but there will be rules.”
“Really? What kind of rules?”
“Well, for starters, no clothes are allowed. This is the nudity day of the vacation.”
She laughs, her whole body shaking with delight. “Ooh, I like nudity day. What else?”
“We don’t leave this bed unless it’s for sustenance. We have bread and peanut butter in the kitchen. We won’t starve.”
“Delicious.” She kisses my chin and slides her hand over my ass. “Have I told you how much I like your butt?”
“I don’t think you have.”
“I seriously like your butt.” She kisses my neck. “It’s firm and just the right size.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
“Do you have any other rules?”
“We’ll make them up as we go.”
~Starla~
“Again,” Leo Nash, international rock god, instructs me from behind the piano. We’re in the booth, and we’re running through the song, making it perfect before we record it. “You keep missing the note in the second verse.”
“You know, I wrote this song,” I remind him. “Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to sound.”
“Is it?”
“No.” I laugh and smile at Sam when she comes into the room with two bottles of water. “Your husband is a slave driver.”
“Don’t let him bully you,” Sam says before planting a kiss on his head. “Need anything else? I’m going to head over to Mom and Dad’s for a bit.”
“No, thanks, Sunshine,” Leo says before pulling her into his lap to kiss the hell out of her. “Tell them I said hi.”
“Tell them yourself. You’re coming to dinner at six. Don’t forget.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She winks at him, sends me a wave, and is out the door again.
“I like her,” I say, shifting the paper on the music stand. “A lot.”
“Me, too.”
“Was it hard? Settling down? What with the job we have and all?”
He drinks his water, thinking about it. “Marrying Sam, being with her, was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. My life doesn’t work without her. But it’s not been easy finding the balance. I tour constantly. Or, did.”
“Did?”
“Yeah, we’re slowing it down some. We’ll still tour, but for shorter stretches, and we’ll go longer in between. I’m at a place where I want to make music, but I also want to be home more.”
“Yeah.” I sigh and sit on the stool, looking at the floor.
“Is this about Levi?”
“Yeah,” I say again. “I just don’t see how people like us can make it work, you know? I’ll be gone soon. I only come to Seattle about once a year to see the family, and that’s usually around a tour date. Levi’s a cop, and I would never ask him to give that up.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have to ask him,” Leo suggests.
“Well, he isn’t volunteering either. And I don’t blame him. Maybe I’m just overthinking it all.”
“How much longer are you in Seattle?”
“Another month. And then it’s back in the studio and to the rest of the grind.”
“You sound thrilled.”
I laugh and shrug. “I love it, too, you know? I love the lifestyle. But it’s exhausting.”
“Balance,” Leo says as if it should be the easiest thing in the world.
“I haven’t had anyone in my life that I was afraid to lose. Not for a long time,” I confess. “But I’m terrified now. Levi understands me. He reads me well. He’s a rock star at putting up with my moods.”
“Moods are what artists do best,” Leo says.
“He takes care of me, you know? Not financially or anything, because . . . duh. But he takes care of my soul. My heart. In ways I didn’t know I needed.”
“You’re in love with him.”
“So much it makes me lose my breath.”
“Good for you, my friend.” He smiles, but when I don’t smile in return, he sobers. “What is it?”
“I don’t come from love, Leo. What I knew my whole life was dark and mean and just . . . bad.”
“I understand. I come from all of that, as well.”
My gaze flies to his. “You do?”
“Oh, yeah. The foster system isn’t a walk in the park.”
I swallow hard and feel tears threaten. He might be one of the few people I’ve ever met who could possibly understand me.
“I’m afraid to love Levi because . . . what if I don’t know how?”
“Man.” He exhales loudly. “He fell in love with you because you showed him who you are. He loves you because of the way you love him in return, Starla. And, frankly, it might sound trite, but you have to talk to him. You have to confide in him about your fears because they’ll fester. Hell, Sam and I have been together since Jesus was born, and we still have our moments. Talk to him. And despite where you come from, you know how to love. Hell, a person doesn’t write a song like Wish and not know love.”
I grin, thinking about the song we’re working on. It’s the one from that night in the turret in Montana.
When we confessed our love.
“Now, enough of all of this crap about feelings. Let’s record a song.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re such a man.”
“Thank you for noticing.”
The next hour goes so much better. I’m able to hit the note in the second verse, and by the time we’ve recorded the song, I’m absolutely in love with it.
“This is damn good,” Leo says proudly. “It’s going to be a big hit for you. Feel free to record in my studio anytime.”
“Don’t make an offer like that unless you mean it, because I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot more time in Seattle.”
“I do mean it. The next time I have all the guys here, you should come jam with us.”
“I’d like that. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. And, Starla?”
“Yeah?”
“You deserve Levi and all the happiness he brings to you. You can have both the man and the job. You’ll figure it out.”
I nod and pat him on the shoulder. I don’t pull away when he tugs me in for a hug.
“Thanks. You’re right, we’ll figure it out.”
Once I’m in my little Jag and headed toward Seattle, I call Levi.
“What are you wearing?” I ask when he picks up.
“Way more than I’d like to be.”
“No, if you’re in public, you should be fully dressed. I don’t share.”
He chuckles in my ear. “What are you up to? How’s the recording going?”
“We’re done, and it was fabulous. I’ll play it for you when you get home. I’m headed there now. Should we do salads from Salty’s tonight?”
“I don’t want you to be home alone,” he says. “The guys had to be pulled off your detail for another investigation, and I don’t have anyone else on it yet.”
“Levi, I’m fine. I’m going right home, where I’ll lock the door and set the alarm. And you’ll be home in like two hours. Seriously, it’s okay.”
“Don’t forget to set the alarm.” His voice is hard. He’s in bossy-cop mode.
It’s kind of hot.
“Ten-four, good buddy.”
“You’re in a good mood.”
“I know, I had a good afternoon with Leo, the song is fantastic, and he gave me some sage advice.”
“What’s that?”
“To basically
keep doing what I’m doing.”
“Well, okay then. I’m glad it went well, and I can’t wait to hear the song. I think I can get things wrapped up here in just a little bit, and then I’ll be there.”
“You don’t have to rush.”
“Yes. I do. Love you, babe. See you soon.”
“Love you back.”
I click off, and before the radio has a chance to come through the speakers, my phone rings.
It’s my assistant, Rachel.
“Holy shit, I haven’t talked to you in years.”
She laughs, the sound a welcome one after not hearing from her in so long.
“I know. You went on vacation and left me to my own devices. So I went on my own little vacation, but I thought it was time to check in on you. How are you feeling?”
“Much better than the last time you saw me.”
“That’s awesome. I’m glad to hear it. I’m actually in Seattle for a few days and thought it would be fun to have dinner.”
“What? When did you get here? Why don’t I know this?”
“Calm down, woman. I just got here this morning. So, we’re on for dinner then?”
“Absolutely. Does six work?”
“Six is perfect. Just text me where to meet you. I’m excited to see you.”
“Me, too. Yay! Okay, see you later.”
“Bye.”
Today is a really good day. I was beginning to worry about Rachel. It’s not unusual for her to go off and do her own thing when we’re between tours or if I don’t need her. But I start to miss her because we spend so much time together when we are traveling and working. She’s my right hand. I don’t know what I would do without her.
Traffic is light for this time of day, which is a miracle in itself. The rain that pounded down just a few hours ago has cleared, and it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful evening.
The clear skies also mean I can take a quick swim in the pool.
Once I’m at the house, I make sure to set the alarm and then run upstairs to grab a bikini. I would swim naked, but it’s the middle of the afternoon, and I don’t know . . . Something tells me to wear a suit.
I have to deactivate the alarm to get to the backyard. It’s not a big deal. I’ll only be in the pool for twenty minutes, tops.
I quickly braid my hair and then jump in, easily moving with long, slow strokes, gliding through the water.
It’s colder now that fall has settled into the Pacific Northwest. The pool isn’t heated, but it still feels good against my skin.
I enjoyed Montana so much. Every minute of it was relaxing and exactly what I needed to recharge my batteries. But I missed this pool.
When my hand touches the wall, I tuck under in a somersault, then push off and swim to the other side.
The swim is invigorating. When I stand and push the water from my face, I’m panting hard from the exercise.
Whoever said swimming is an excellent workout wasn’t lying.
I blink my eyes open and screech, covering my chest in surprise.
“Holy crap, you scared me!”
“Sorry.” Rachel is sitting in one of the lounge chairs, one leg crossed over the other, watching me with calm eyes. She’s not jumping up to hug me. She’s not smiling.
She’s not excited to see me.
Something feels wrong.
“What are you doing here?” I walk out of the pool and reach for a towel, trying to stay calm. “I don’t think I gave you this address.”
“You didn’t.” Her smile is brittle and cold. “I’ve known where you were for a while. Donald tells me anything I want to know.”
“Of course.” I wrap the towel around myself and start to walk toward her, then see the gun in her hand and stop short. “What the hell, Rach?”
“I have to tell you, it’s been seriously annoying that you’ve had cops all over the place these past weeks. How’s a girl supposed to get close to you when you’re guarded better than Fort Knox?”
I tilt my head to the side. “You can always get to me, you just have to call.”
“You’re pretty stupid, aren’t you? You can sing, I’ll give you that. And you’re a pretty little thing. But you’re dumb as a box of rocks.”
Rachel is my stalker?
“I can’t call ahead when I plan to kill you. That would be stupid.”
“K-k-kill me?”
“Well, I’m not holding this gun for my own health.” She laughs and stomps her feet on the concrete. “Oh, come on. That was funny.”
Since when is Rachel fucking crazy?
And why did I leave my phone inside?
Where are you, Levi?
“So, you’ve been in Seattle for a while then.”
“For as long as you have been. Oh, and the dizziness? The headaches? That wasn’t from stress, princess.”
“You were poisoning me?”
“Yeah, and it would have all gone to plan, but you went to that fucking doctor and fled to Seattle in the blink of an eye. Must be nice to be rich and able to go anywhere, anytime you want.”
“So, what did I do to you exactly?”
“You have what’s mine.”
I narrow my eyes, completely confused as to what she’s talking about.
“Your entire fucking career was supposed to be mine. Donald was supposed to give me the big break. He’d already taken me on, and then he found you slumming it in a hotel, and you probably fucked him so he’d work for you.”
“I didn’t—”
“Shut up.” Her eyes are manic now. I have no idea who this person is. “Suddenly, any shot I had at being a singer was swept away, and I had to fucking apply to be your assistant. How is that supposed to make me feel? To be more talented than you, but I have to fetch your fucking tea? I have to clean up after you. I wonder what your fans would think if they found out that you have people do everything for you?”
“They’d probably think that’s pretty normal, actually.”
“You think you’re so funny. God, I hate you. I hate you!”
She’s on her feet now, holding the gun up and aimed at my face. She’s going to kill me, and I don’t know what to do to stop her.
I don’t know if I can stop her.
“You thought you could protect yourself from me? Well, you can’t. Because I’m smarter than you, and I’m better than you, you stupid bitch.”
“So, do you think you’ll just kill me, and then you’ll be the famous singer?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think! It’s none of your fucking business. You’ll be dead, and you won’t care anyway.”
“I don’t want to be dead.”
“Beg me.” She cocks her hip to the side. “Beg me to let you live, and I’ll think about it.”
“You’re sick.”
Her face crumples in rage.
“That’s not begging me. If you don’t fucking beg, I’ll shoot you right now. DO IT!”
“No.” I shake my head slowly, holding her gaze with my own. “I won’t beg for what’s already mine, Rachel. But I can promise to help you.”
“I don’t need your help!”
“Starla!”
I turn at the sound of my name, but then there’s a loud crack, blinding hot pain, and I’m falling.
Suddenly, everything is dark.
~Levi~
If people would stop interrupting me, I could get the hell out of here and home to Starla. I don’t like leaving her alone. I know she thinks that a couple of hours isn’t a big deal, and she might be right, but I’d feel better if I were there with her.
“Have a minute?” Jim Parker asks, leaning his head around the doorjamb.
“Not really.” I sigh and look up at him. “What’s up?”
“Update, but not a great one. We’re still not able to find a definitive source for the emails, but I think I found something today. There’s one specific thread that’s come through a couple of times, not enough that we’d catch it if we weren’t looking, but it’s there.”
“Great, keep pulling it.”
“I plan to, just didn’t want you to think I was slacking on the job.”
“You’re here more hours than I am, and there’s only three of you in your department. I know you’re giving me all the hours you can spare. I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure. I think we’re getting somewhere. I’m going to stay after for a couple hours and keep working on it. I’ll try to charm my way to the source.”
“Well, that won’t get us anywhere, given you’re the least charming asshole I know.”
I grin when Jim glares at me.
“Kidding. Thanks, man. I’m going to head out. Starla’s home alone.”
“I thought she had a full-time detail.”
“They were needed elsewhere, and we didn’t have anyone else to spare.”
“Get home then. I’ll call if I find anything.”
“Appreciate it.”
I clip my holster to my belt and toss my jacket on before locking my office behind me and walking out to the car.
I’ve written my letter of resignation. I had breakfast with my parents this morning, gave them a heads-up. I know they have concerns, and at my age, I don’t have to ask their permission, but I do value their input. They’ve been married for forty-five years, and they’re smart people.
Despite their concerns, they also support my decision. The Lubbock case assured me that homicide is not for me. And how can I ever stay here in Seattle, working the job, while wondering if Starla is safe, wherever she is?
No, I’ve made my decision, and now I have to talk with Starla about it, get her input before I quit a job that’s been more than good to me for most of my life.
As I turn the corner to Starla’s house. Something feels . . . wrong.
I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Starla’s Jag is in the driveway. No other cars are parked on the street. I glance at Wyatt’s house, but it’s quiet as well.
I park and get out of the car, looking up and down the still street. There’s no noise. Not even any birds, and that’s not normal.
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