Stripped

by Stacy-Deanne

  Sylvia stepped out the door, gaping. “Is this about your case?”

  Dee smiled.

  “He’s on the back patio.” She pointed to the side gate. “You need me to show you—”

  “Nope, it’s fine,” Dee said. “Come on, Connie.”

  Connie waved at Sylvia and followed Dee through the curvy walkway and into the metal fence that separated the backyard from view.

  “Wow.” She stopped in place. “This is amazing, Dee.”

  “It’s not mine.” They continued through the stone pathway and made it to a large patio where Grayson sat in the gazebo with a woman who looked young enough to be his daughter.

  “Hm.” Dee turned up her nose.

  “What?” Connie stood beside her, smirking. “Jealous?”

  “No.” She smacked her lips. “Look, if this is gonna work then stay out my business. We only need to discuss the case. I’m not trying to be your friend.”

  Grayson and the young woman exited the gazebo and started toward Dee and Connie.

  “Grayson is a part of the case,” Connie said. “Like it or not your relationship with him might tie into it at some point.”

  “Grayson and I are over.”

  “You seem jealous.” Connie snickered as Grayson and the girl approached.

  A wry smile spread across Grayson’s lips, the sun hitting his pale skin.

  “Well?” Dee held her palms out to him. “You going to just stare or what?”

  “You came to my home, remember?” His black hair was almost completely gray now. “Seems you should tell me what you want.”

  Dee pointed at the girl. “Is this your long-lost daughter or something?”

  He chuckled. “Funny.”

  The shapely, brunette woman fidgeted with a notebook in hand.

  “Grayson, what are you doing hanging around this young girl?” Dee observed the brunette. “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-two,” the young woman snapped.

  “Twenty-two?” Dee shrieked. “Grayson, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Nothing is going on between us,” he said. “Tammie is a writing student at the community college where I often give signings and seminars.” He took off his reading glasses, his almond-brown eyes flickering. “Tammie is a huge fan of my work.” He glared at Dee. “Just like you used to be.”

  “I still love your work.” Dee flashed a stiff smile at Tammie. “If I’m wrong I apologize.”

  “You thought I was having an affair with Mr. Paul?” She scoffed, grimacing. “Ewe. He’s older than my dad. Oops.” She covered her mouth. “No offense, Mr. Paul.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered.

  Dee snickered.

  “Mr. Paul is an amazing author,” Tammie gushed. “It’s a wonderful opportunity to pick his brain. I’m writing my first mystery novel and he’s been reading it and giving me tips.”

  Grayson raised his eyebrow, still holding that sly smile. “And, who is this lovely creature?” He alluded to Connie.

  She smiled, blushing. “Detective Connie Wilks. I’m Dee’s new partner.”

  “Wonderful to meet you.” Grayson kissed her hand, another thing Dee swore he did to make her jealous.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’ve enjoyed some of your books.”

  “Only some?” Grayson’s eyes twinkled.

  “I mean...” Connie dropped her head, blushing. “I haven’t read all your books but the ones I have, I liked them a lot.”

  He smiled.

  “Hello, can we get to business here?” Dee rubbed her palms together. “We have something important to discuss with you, Grayson.”

  “Certainly.” He dismissed Tammie and showed the detectives to the little round chair with the centerpiece made of violets and tulips from his garden. “May I?” He held Dee’s chair out for her. “That perfume.” He sat beside her and placed his glasses on the table. “All it takes is one whiff to remind me of how things used to be.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Grayson, we’re not here to stroll down Memory Lane,” Dee said. “Autumn Stuart is dead and we’re on the case.”

  He sat back, mouth open. “What did you say?”

  “Autumn Stuart is dead,” Connie repeated. “Her property manager found her this evening. She’d been strangled.”

  “Oh my god.” Grayson covered his mouth, rocking forward. “Jesus Christ, who would do something like that?”

  “That’s our job to find out,” Dee said. “Her property manager says you and her were dating.”

  “Yes.” He gripped the edge of the table, holding a deadpan expression. “For about three months, but it ended.”

  Dee got out her notepad. “How did it end?”

  “Uh...” He fidgeted, eyes moving from left to right. “It just ended.”

  “Relationships don’t just end, Grayson,” Dee said. “Is there something you’re hiding?”

  “Why am I not surprised that you’re suspicious of me yet again? I didn’t kill Autumn if that’s where you’re going.”

  “How did the relationship end?” She tapped the pencil on the table. “It’s not a hard question.”

  “Okay.” He exhaled into his hands. “She broke it off a few weeks ago.”

  “She dumped you?” Connie asked.

  Grayson focused on her. “You can say that.”

  “That must’ve irked you, huh?” Dee crossed her legs as she wrote. “You don’t take breakups too well.”

  “No one wants to be dumped.” He squinted at her with a scowl. “But, I didn’t feel half for Autumn what I felt for you.”

  Dee looked away, clearing her throat.

  “I didn’t strangle her. Why don’t you check out Jonathan Wild?”

  Dee batted her eyes. “Where have I heard that name before?”

  Connie tapped Dee’s arm. “That’s the guy that runs The Circle.”

  “That cult?” Dee wiggled her pencil. “They’ve done stories about him on the news from time to time. His daddy was famous, right?”

  “His daddy was Montgomery Wild,” Connie said. “He was a scientist and invented that herbal medicine and became a multimillionaire.”

  “Jonathan is a botanist from Harvard.” Grayson rolled his eyes. “He concocts all these herbal medicines and things on his compound outside Baltimore. That’s who you should focus on.”

  Connie set her elbows on the table, staring at Grayson as if he were a movie. “Autumn was in The Circle?”

  He nodded. “She and Jonathan became involved, and that’s why she quit things with me.”

  “That still gives you the motive,” Dee said.

  “I was fine with the breakup, trust me.”

  “Have you been here all day?” Connie asked.

  “Yes, I haven’t left. Tammie’s been here most of the time. You can ask Sylvia.”

  “May we have access to your security cameras to confirm you were here?” Connie asked.

  “He doesn’t use security cameras,” Dee said. “He’s not into them.”

  “I don’t want cameras all over my house.”

  “A big, beautiful home like this?” Connie whistled. “What did this cost you, a couple million at least?”

  “Like I said, I was right here.” He exhaled. “A woman disappeared before from The Circle.”

  Dee and Connie exchanged glances.

  “It was a few years back. Autumn told me the woman left, but no one has heard from her since.”

  “What was this woman’s name?” Dee asked.

  “Autumn didn’t even know.” He pulled a flower from the centerpiece. “She heard about it when she’d go to Jonathan’s compound. He built that place, and it’s like his own little city where he commands all these women. She says he’s possessive.”

  Connie’s eyebrows dipped. “Jonathan?”

  “When she first told me she was involved with the group, I couldn’t believe it. Jonathan manipulates women so he can have control over them and keep them as his sex slaves.�
�

  Dee grimaced. “Sex slaves?”

  “What do you call it? He has all these brainwashed women locked away, promising them the moon and the stars. I tried to get Autumn to leave him alone but she wouldn’t. No matter what Jonathan does those women remain loyal to him. More loyal to him than even to themselves.”

  “We’ll check him out, and I hope you’re telling the truth for your sake, Grayson.” Dee rose when Grayson touched her hand.

  “Can I talk to you alone?”

  She relaxed back in the chair and nodded at Connie.

  Connie got Dee’s keys and pushed her chair against the table. “I’ll be in the car.” She waved at Grayson and left through the gate.

  “What do you want?” Dee struggled to keep the edge in her voice though a part of her missed Grayson very much.

  “I wanted to say I’m so sorry for your loss.” He flattened his warm, soft palm over her hand. “I know how much your dad meant to you.”

  “That’s nice of you.” She stiffened. “Is that all?”

  “I still miss you.” He touched her hand. “I still want you.”

  “Stop it.” She tried to move her hand but couldn’t. “I’m tired of going through this song and dance every time we see each other. It’s been a year and a half.”

  “I don’t give a fuck if it’s been ten years, Dee. I love you and we belong together.”

  “If that were true we’d still be together.” She snatched her hand free. “Please, don’t do this. I’m with Winston and happy.”

  “Winston.” He rubbed his fist. “It’ll never last.”

  “It’s lasted a year which was longer than when you and I were together.”

  “That fire you had with me, you don’t get that with Winston.” His jaws clenched. “He’ll never love you like I do. I bet he still wants Lisa and is using you to get close to her.”

  “I said stop it.” She stood. “I refuse to have this conversation with you again. It’s over, Grayson.”

  “I don’t agree.” He stood, grabbing her hand. “Make me believe it’s over, Dee. You can’t.” He stroked her cheek. “Because deep down you don’t want it to be.”

  She bumped into the chair on her way to the pathway. “I gotta go.”

  ****

  After an hour ride to Broadville Port the next day, Dee and Connie arrived at Jonathan’s compound, which included multiple dwellings and over ten thousand acres of landscape.

  Dee drove through the steep road leading to Jonathan’s Mediterranean-style mansion in the middle of yards of fresh grass and regal, porcelain statues. She stopped at the wrought iron gate and looked up at the building, its roof reaching the clouds.

  “My god.” Connie’s lip hung on her lap. “It looks huge on the website but that doesn’t compare to seeing it in person.”

  “Are you the Detectives?” a man asked before Dee could push the button on the intercom.

  “Uh.” Dee chuckled. “We are.”

  “Please pull up to the house,” the man instructed.

  The gates opened and Dee crept through the lengthy driveway.

  “It’s so beautiful.” Connie turned left and right. “How much you think this place costs?”

  “More than we’ll ever see in our lifetimes.” Dee followed the curves of the driveway while losing herself in the mansion’s warm, beige palette accented by bursts of orange, red, and green.

  A petite Asian man with slicked-back salt-n-pepper hair and a cleft chin, came down the orange-bricked steps as Dee and Connie got out the car.

  “Hello.” A smile inched its way onto the man’s stern face, one eye bulging. “I’m Tran.” He held out his hand to the detectives, his head reaching their bosoms. “It’s nice to meet you.” He took Dee’s hand, and his was so tiny it made her feel gigantic.

  “Nice to meet you.” She inhaled the bitter and sweet fragrance of the flowers sitting in front of the mansion. “I’m Detective Dee Quarter and this is Connie Wilks.”

  Connie bowed and then fidgeted.

  Dee and Tran gaped at her.

  “Why are you bowing?” Dee whispered.

  Connie took Tran’s hand with a tight smile. “I meant no offense.”

  “I’m not offended.” Tran pulled back his hand. “You’re the one who looked like the fool, not me.”

  Dee laughed under her hand.

  Connie closed her eyes, sighing.

  “Welcome.” Tran clasped his hands. “This is your first time here so you need to learn the rules. We don’t allow guns inside.” He gestured to their holsters. “Please remove your weapons.”

  “I’m not removing anything,” Dee said. “We’re police officers who have every right to carry our weapons.”

  “It’s no big deal,” Connie said. “We can put them in the car—”

  “The hell we will.” Dee moved closer to Tran. “I’m not taking my gun off. It’s your problem if you don’t like that.”

  “It’s not my problem.” Tran smiled, batting his eyes. “You’re the ones who need answers. If you want to come in, then leave the guns outside. If not then you can leave.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “We’re not leaving.” Connie took her gun from her holster. “Let’s just do this so we can handle our business.”

  “No.” Dee crossed her arms, lips poked out. “He has no right to ask this of us.”

  “This is private property, Detective Quarter,” Tran said. “Unless you have a warrant, we don’t even have to allow you inside.” His bigger eye twitched. “Either you want to come in or you don’t.”

  “We wanna come in.” Connie snatched Dee’s gun from her holster and put the guns in the car. “May we come in now?” She stood beside Dee again.

  “Follow me and don’t touch anything.” He led them inside with his nose to the sky.

  “Excuse me.” Dee stuck her pinky in the air, and Connie laughed.

  As if the exterior of the mansion wasn’t to die for, the inside was an oasis of shiny marble floors and antique stone columns with a mild Vanilla aroma every time Dee turned her head.

  They walked through the hallway past colorful rooms with posh furniture and decorative light fixtures.

  They turned a corner, passing the winding stairwell.

  “You ever get lost in this place?” Connie walked, looking at the ceiling.

  “It can intimidate if you’re not used to it.” Tran’s tiny frame disappeared in his airy white slacks. “Intimidation is good in Jonathan’s eyes.”

  “Is it?” Dee stopped as they passed a cracked door.

  “Something wrong?” Connie turned back.

  Dee peeked inside the room to see at least twenty women of various races mediating on the floor in flimsy white dresses with their hair in tight buns.

  “They’re meditating,” Tran said. “It’s a huge part of our culture.”

  “Your culture?” Dee stood back from the door. “Jonathan describes The Circle as a spiritual group of peace and harmony.”

  “That’s right.” Tran smiled.

  “Yet, no mention of a certain religion.” Dee raised an eyebrow.

  “People think religion is the same as spiritual and it’s not.” Tran wiggled his fingers, showing off the sparkling gold ring. “We’re not a religious group. We just believe in living our lives free of negativity and other emotions that rot the soul.”

  Connie nodded, sucking her lip. “I thought Jonathan was a Buddhist or something.”

  Tran guffawed with his mouth open so wide Dee saw the cracked wisdom tooth on the right side. “We’re not Buddhists.”

  “What’s your role in this?” Dee asked Tran as they continued walking.

  “My role is to keep everything running so Jonathan doesn’t have to worry about such matters.” He opened the door to a caramel-toned room with a brown sectional and a white, stone fireplace. “Please come in and sit down.”

  Connie and Dee sat on the sectional; the sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows introducing a tinge of brightness
.

  “Would you like refreshments?” Tran put his hands together. “Fresh fruit and nuts, perhaps? We grow a lot of our own fruit and vegetables.”

  “No thanks.” Dee smiled, getting out her notepad.

  “I’d love to see outside the property.” Connie straightened herself on the couch, bumping against Dee.

  “This isn’t a field trip, Connie. I don’t mean to be rude, Tran, but we’d like to get this show on the road so we can get back.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He left the room and returned with three women in thin, white dresses.

  The brunette woman glided in front of the others as if she were royalty while the blonde and the redhead stood in place as if they needed permission to move.

  “This is Mistress Shauna.” Tran gestured to the tall, curvy woman with loose, black crinkles flowing across her shoulders and back. “This is Emma,” He pointed to the blonde-haired woman with the slanted brown eyes. “And, this is Ana,” he introduced the pale redhead with her face covered in tiny freckles.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Shauna’s hair settled against her round face. “Detectives Quarter and Wilks, I hope you’ve enjoyed checking out our home.” Her arched eyebrows added length to her face.

  “Hold on.” Dee held in a chuckle. “What the heck is going on here?”

  Her thick, red lips flattened. “As Tran said, I’m Mistress Shauna.”

  Dee swallowed a grin. “Why do they call you ‘Mistress’?”

  “Because I’m the Head Mistress of The Circle.” Her chestnut eyes brought drama to her face. “I’m second command to Jonathan.”

  “Wait, wait.” Dee laughed, covering her mouth. “Is this a joke?”

  “I see nothing funny,” Shauna said, not a trace of humor. “In your world I’d be a queen.”

  “Okay, queen.” Dee flicked her hand, grinning. “Whatever you say.”

  “Where is Jonathan?” Connie asked.

  “Jonathan’s busy.” Shauna wiggled her toes in her sandals, wearing white nail polish. “You can talk to me.”

  “We don’t wanna talk to you,” Dee said. “When we called, we were told we could speak to Jonathan.”

  “Well, Jonathan has more pressing matters.” Shauna hiked her narrow nose in the air. “I’m closer to him than anyone so I can answer for him.”