Deadly Connections

by Renee Pawlish

  The bedroom window was open, and he heard a dog barked. Then silence. She stirred and mumbled something. He froze, then took a quiet step back and waited. Her breathing evened again. He slipped stealthily into the room, his footfalls silent on the carpet. He moved to the window, quietly closed it, then shut the blinds. The square of moonlight on the bed vanished. He gazed at the woman for a moment longer. His heart sped up, his palms began to sweat inside his gloves. He gripped the knife tighter and stepped over to the edge of the bed. The woman’s mouth was slightly open, as if she were about to say something. He put the knife blade to her face, ran the edge of the blade along her lips, then up to her cheek, not enough to cut the skin, but enough that the cold metal woke her. She blinked a couple of times, then her eyes flew open. She started to sit up. He pressed one hand to her mouth, and pushed the blade against her neck. She sank back into the mattress, her body trembling.

  “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Do what I say, and you won’t get hurt.”

  She nodded slowly, but the terror in her eyes betrayed her. She knew everything would not be okay.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The sound of the 1940’s-style jazz quartet greeted me with gusto as I walked into the banquet hall of the Westin Hotel near the Sixteenth Street Mall. The upbeat tune was familiar. Then I placed it. “Who Can It Be Now” by the Australian band Men at Work.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath. It was bad enough I had to come to this event, but to have a cheesy jazz quartet softening up a great 80s tune, that was too much.

  I scanned the dimly lit room, searching for Harry Sousen in the throng of guests. Practically every man in the room was wearing a dark suit. I had no doubt Harry would be similarly dressed, which made finding him even harder. I walked between round tables covered in neatly pressed white tablecloths and scanned faces. I recognized a few by name only. This wasn’t my crowd. Truthfully, it wasn’t Harry’s either, but being the president of his own computer consulting company, he had to rub elbows with many of these people; it was good for business.

  The band finished “Who Can It Be Now” and I listened to the next tune. This one I didn’t recognize, but it, too, had a familiar ring. I looked to the stage. Above it hung a large banner with blue lettering: “Denver Small Business Association.” A podium sat centered on the stage, surrounded by chairs, ready for the awards presentation. I shouldn’t have been so down on the event, but in my mind, Harry should’ve been receiving the award for Business Person of the Year, not Darren Barnes. I frowned. I’d met Darren a few times at this type of event. He was smug and arrogant, and he always left me feeling as if I needed to wash away his presence. Seeming to know I was thinking about him, Darren materialized in front of me.

  “Sarah Spillman.” He flashed a set of gleaming white teeth at me, his salesman smile in excellent form. He moved smoothly between people and approached me, took my hand, and pecked my cheek. “You look lovely this evening.”

  I resisted the urge to wipe away the subtle kiss. “Darren, it’s nice to see you. Congratulations on your award.” I was as sweet as I could be, which wasn’t much, I admit.

  The smile remained plastered on his face. “I suppose you’re looking for Harry.”

  He wasn’t faking the smile very well, showing too many teeth, keeping his brown eyes open. With a real smile, the eyes tend to close as the cheeks enlarge, forming the classic crow’s feet around the eyes. None of that from Darren.

  I nodded. “I got tied up at work and got here as soon as I could.” I didn’t know why I was explaining things to him. He made me feel as if I had to, which was part of what I didn’t like about him. Among his many negative qualities, he’d made blatant comments in the past about the police, and how he didn’t think my profession as a homicide detective was commendable. In some ways he reminded me of my sister, Diane, who often implied the same. A psychologist would say I was transferring some of my frustration with her to him. Possibly. Or maybe Darren just wasn’t a nice guy.

  “Well,” Darren said, his smile intact but his eyes cold, “a woman like you shouldn’t be left alone.” He appraised me. “You know, you may be a homicide detective, but that would be fine with me.”

  I gritted my teeth and forced a laugh. That was another thing I didn’t like about Darren. He joked about my relationship with Harry. I wasn’t sure whether Darren was kidding about his interest in me or not. Regardless, I would never be interested in him.

  “Darren–”

  “Don’t say a word.” He stepped back and surveyed me again. “You do look ravishing. That blue dress does wonders for your eyes.”

  I didn’t reply to that. “Have you seen Harry?” I said. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my smile.

  “I just bought a Corvette. It’s spectacular. Black. Sleek lines. We could take it out for a spin.”

  “What, are we in high school?”

  He ran a hand over his brown hair. “Trust me, I’m better than any high schooler.”

  Was his act all in jest? I didn’t want to make an enemy, but I wanted to take my handbag and smack the slimy look off his face. Instead, I made a show of rummaging in the bag so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “So … have you seen Harry?” I asked again.

  “I’ll give you a call.” Before I could protest, he went on. “I believe he’s talking to the mayor.” He was tall and could look over the crowed. He reached for my elbow to escort me to Harry, then someone called his name. He glanced over his shoulder, disappointment in his eyes. His gaze fell back to me and lingered, an uncomfortable moment. “That dress does look good on you.” The voice called again. Darren’s eyes flashed hot. “Excuse me, please. I do hope to see you after the ceremony.”

  “Of course.” It was insincere, but I don’t think he caught it.

  He smiled again, pointed toward Harry, and brushed against me as he stepped by.

  “What a douchebag,” I muttered under my breath. I smoothed my dress, wishing Darren hadn’t made the comment about my eyes. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, then made my way across the hall. Of all the people to run into the second I walked through the door, it had to be Darren Barnes. I was still silently grousing about him when I saw a tall, handsome man with steel-gray hair and dark eyes. His dark suit and yellow tie fit him perfectly, enhancing his sleek physique. He turned, saw me, and his eyes lit up. All thoughts of Darren slipped away.

  “Sarah.”

  With that one word, Harry made me feel like a queen. He held out a hand, his smile warm and genuine. I reached out and his hand enveloped mine, that small gesture a reassurance of my love for him. Harry, ever the gentleman, introduced me to the man he was chatting with. “I’d like you to meet Mayor Carlson.”

  I’d been in the same room as Mayor Carlson a few times, but the circumstances had been different, dealing with a homicide investigation. This time, it was much more pleasant.

  Carlson obviously remembered me, and he smiled. “It’s so nice to see you, Detective Spillman. We’ve never met formally. I’m Boyd.” He held out a hand and I shook it.

  “Sarah,” I said.

  “I sure appreciate your hard work.”

  I murmured a thank-you, and he gestured at Harry. “Harry and I were discussing the upcoming elections. In general terms, I assure you. I’m not pounding the pavement for votes.” Harry and I laughed. Carlson waved a hand in the air. “Boring stuff. But it’s what I have to do.” He smiled, as practiced as Darren Barnes in that art. And yet I didn’t feel the slime as I had with Darren. “If you’ll forgive me,” Boyd said. “I do need to mingle. Part of the job.”

  “It was good to see you again,” Harry said.

  Carlson nodded, and we watched him move away and greet other people with precision. He knew how to make people feel comfortable, eliciting genuine smiles and laughs from everyone he spoke to.

  “He’s a nice enough man,” Harry said in a low voice, “but I don’t agree much with his politics.”

  “I co
uld never rub elbows and schmooze people like that,” I said. “I’m too blunt.”

  Harry put his arm around my shoulder. “Yes you are. And I love you for it.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “No worries. Would you like a drink?” Harry took in my dress. “You look stunning. I love that blue. What it does to your eyes.”

  “Thanks.” I frowned.

  “What?”

  “Darren Barnes just said the same thing. Then he asked me out for a drive in his new car.”

  He tipped his head, bemused. “He did? You think he was kidding?”

  “I would like to think so,” I said. “I’ve never liked the guy. He’s … smarmy.”

  “In what way?”

  I mulled on it for a moment. “I can’t put my finger on it. His words are nice …”

  “Well, he’ll be busy schmoozing with other people the rest of the night. And if he comes by, we’ll dodge him.”

  I smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Now let’s enjoy the party.”

  “Right.”

  He caught the sarcasm. “Thanks for coming. I know you don’t like these events.”

  “Anything for you.” I meant that.

  He kissed my cheek, and that I didn’t mind. “How about that drink?”

  I nodded toward the bar behind him. “I would love a martini.”

  He took my hand. “You got it.”

  We made our way to the bar, got drinks, and went to a table with several other guests. Soon everyone was taking their seats. Harry introduced me to a few people, and I played the chit-chat game. Finally a prime rib dinner was served. I had to admit, it was delicious. Unfortunately, it came with a side of awards, and that meant having to listen to Darren give a speech. He was good, though. He had a way of working the crowd, punctuating his speech with well-timed jokes that elicited plenty of laughter. At one point, Harry leaned over and whispered in my ear. “He aspires to politics.”

  “That explains why I don’t like him.”

  “Yeah, I don’t much care for him either.” Harry caught a whiff of my perfume and whispered, “I can’t wait to get out of here and take you home.”

  He put his hand under the table and squeezed my knee. I wanted nothing more than to go home with him right then. Instead, we suffered through more speeches. Finally, the award ceremony was over. Harry stood up.

  “Let’s go home.”

  We said polite good-byes to the others at the table and turned to go. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Darren Barnes making his way toward us.

  “Harry,” I murmured.

  He glanced over my shoulder and saw Darren. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll talk to him later.”

  Darren was too quick for us. “How about this?” he said, holding up a plaque with his name on it.

  “Congratulations,” Harry said. He put an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “If you’ll excuse us, Sarah and I need to go.”

  “Sure,” Darren said.

  We turned and hurried for the door. I felt Darren’s eyes on me. Harry held me close as if to shield me from Darren. We went outside and the valet brought our car around.

  “What is it with Darren?” I said as I slid into the passenger seat.

  “I’ve never really liked him, but he throws a lot of business my way.” Harry pulled onto the street.

  “I know.” It was part of why I was trying not to make too big a deal about Darren. “You know how he is about the police.” I thought about my encounter with him. “It’s like I’m somehow not worthy.”

  “Of being a cop? You’re a great homicide detective, and you know it.”

  I thought about that, trying to pull together what I felt. “It’s more than that.”

  “Wait. He thinks you’re not worthy of me?”

  I stared out the windshield. “Maybe.”

  He rested his hand on my leg. “You know that’s not the case. Sarah, you’re beautiful, smart, and I love you.”

  I dismissed that with a wave of my hand. “It reminds me of Diane.”

  He drew in a breath, looked over, then back at the street. “What’s going on here? Is this about Darren, or about you?”

  “What?” I snapped. “You should’ve heard him.”

  “I’m sorry I missed it.”

  “Me too.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, then suddenly pulled over and put the car in park. He drummed the steering wheel, and I stayed silent. He finally spoke. “Sarah, I don’t know what happened between you and Diane when you were in college, but you can’t continue to let it overshadow things now.”

  “I’m not.”

  He twisted in his seat to lock eyes with me. “Are you sure? I get that Darren isn’t a great guy, but he’s not Diane.”

  “No,” I said slowly. “He’s not.”

  “And maybe it’s time to talk to Diane, to tell her how you feel about what happened to you in college.”

  A long time ago I made a mistake. A big mistake. I was a sophomore in college. Diane was in med school, and she messed up, did something she shouldn’t have. She was terrified it would screw things up for her, that she’d get kicked out of med school. I stepped in to help her, and I worried then that what I did could cost me my career in law enforcement that I’d dreamed of since I was a teenager. The whole incident has been eating at me ever since.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Hey.” He leaned over and kissed me, long and lingering. “Let’s go home and forget about both of them.”

  I put a hand on his chest and felt his heart thumping. “That sounds good.”

  He kissed me again, then forced himself back to the wheel. He pulled into the street and we drove home. And I didn’t think about Diane or Darren for the rest of the night. However, I would have to deal with both sooner than I realized.

  Coming fall 2020, keep reading Deadly Invasion, Sarah Spillman Mysteries Book 2: reneepawlish.com/DIwb

  Free Book

  Sign up for my newsletter and receive book 1 in the Reed Ferguson mystery series, This Doesn’t Happen in the Movies, as a welcome gift. You'll also receive another bonus!

  Click here to get started:

  reneepawlish.com/RF2

  Renée’s Bookshelf

  Reed Ferguson Mysteries:

  This Doesn't Happen In The Movies

  Reel Estate Rip-Off

  The Maltese Felon

  Farewell, My Deuce

  Out Of The Past

  Torch Scene

  The Lady Who Sang High

  Sweet Smell Of Sucrets

  The Third Fan

  Back Story

  Night of the Hunted

  The Postman Always Brings Dice

  Road Blocked

  Small Town Focus

  Nightmare Sally

  The Damned Don't Die

  Double Iniquity

  The Lady Rambles

  A Killing

  Reed Ferguson Novellas:

  Ace in the Hole

  Walk Softly, Danger

  Reed Ferguson Short Stories:

  Elvis And The Sports Card Cheat

  A Gun For Hire

  Cool Alibi

  The Big Steal

  The Wrong Woman

  Dewey Webb Historical Mystery Series:

  Web of Deceit

  Murder In Fashion

  Secrets and Lies

  Honor Among Thieves

  Trouble Finds Her

  Mob Rule

  Murder At Eight

  Dewey Webb Short Stories:

  Second Chance

  Double Cross

  Standalone Psychological Suspense:

  What’s Yours Is Mine

  The Girl in the Window

  The Sarah Spillman Mysteries:

  Deadly Connections

  Deadly Invasion

  Coming Fall 2020

  The Sarah Spillman Mystery Short Stories:

  Seven for Suicide

  Saturday Night Spec
ial

  Dance of the Macabre

  Supernatural Mystery:

  Nephilim Genesis of Evil

  Short Stories:

  Take Five Collection

  Codename Richard: A Ghost Story

  The Taste of Blood: A Vampire Story

  Nonfiction:

  The Sallie House: Exposing the Beast Within

  CHILDREN’S BOOKS

  Middle-grade Historical Fiction:

  This War We’re In

  The Noah Winter Adventure Series:

  The Emerald Quest

  Dive into Danger

  Terror On Lake Huron

  About the Author

  Renée Pawlish is the author of The Reed Ferguson mystery series, Nephilim Genesis of Evil, The Noah Winter adventure series for young adults, Take Five, a short story collection that includes a Reed Ferguson mystery, and The Sallie House: Exposing the Beast Within, about a haunted house investigation in Kansas.

  Renée loves to travel and has visited numerous countries around the world. She has also spent many summer days at her parents' cabin in the hills outside of Boulder, Colorado, which was the inspiration for the setting of Taylor Crossing in her novel Nephilim.

  Visit Renée at www.reneepawlish.com.