I thought getting back into my normal routine would relax and center my mind. It's hasn't. Sparring with Jase for an hour this morning only distracted me for a short period of time. At least this time, I didn’t walk away with another swollen cheek to match the one Jase placed on the left side of my face on Tuesday.

  My head has been a fucking mess since my brief conversation with Detective Manning following my father's memorial service yesterday afternoon. I had been avoiding his calls. Honestly, I hadn't realized I was avoiding his calls until he left me a voice message earlier this week. A lot of people were blowing up my phone since word of my father's death was on the local news. If a phone number wasn't attached to a name in my contacts, then I didn't feel the need to return their call or message them. Not that I returned any that were, because I didn't.

  A meeting.

  He wanted to discuss the investigation of my father's murder. Yes murder. That's what it is. I'm not living in a fantasy where I'm pretending I didn't kill him. I did and I'm not sorry. Well, not really. There is a ping in my chest every time I think about it, but it's always followed by what he did to Shannon, what I allowed him to do and the guilt, the sorrow goes away only to be replaced with anger.

  Anger toward myself. I fucked up and Shannon doesn't know it. I sigh out a deep breath. What the hell am I going to do now?

  "Nicholas, you’re here."

  My eyes glide over to the entrance to my office to see a stunned expression across Teresa's face.

  Fucking great.

  I should have known leaving the door to my office open would be a bad idea. But I've been gone so long. I missed my weekly meetings with my staff that report directly to me last Friday. Had Rachel not rescheduled their meeting with me today, I would have had her to, but I didn't want my staff to feel they couldn't come in if they needed me and most of them would only enter if they had to.

  "Why wouldn't I be here, Teresa?"

  "Maybe because your father was killed a week ago and was only buried yesterday. That is why you shouldn't be here. You should be with your family."

  So the fuck what!

  She pushes off the doorframe and saunters in. I've seen Teresa when she doesn't know I'm watching. She walks completely differently. She walks, well normal. This isn’t normal. Who the fuck walks while swaying their hips from side to side? Do chicks really think that's attractive? Maybe it is to some. But to me, it looks dumb. I'm not stupid. I know this is her trying to get my attention.

  As she nears me, I have no choice but to take in her appearance. Her blonde hair is hanging in loose waves just above her shoulders and she is wearing a black, sleeveless A-line dress that hits a few inches above her knees. The dress fits her body perfectly.

  "Yes, well that doesn't mean I can stop running my company now, does it?"

  "Of course not. That is not what I meant." She rounds my desk and props herself against the corner of it. I have to rotate my body and chair to look at her.

  "You do know you bypassed two perfectly good chairs, right? I don't need you sitting on top of my desk. If there is something you need, then spit it out. If not, then please leave. I have work to get done and a pending meeting on my agenda." I know I'm being rude, but she is the one making herself comfortable on the edge of my desk.

  So fucking inappropriate.

  So fucking Teresa.

  "Well, you don't have to be nasty. I've been concerned about you, Nicholas. You haven't returned any of my calls." She crosses her arm across her chest and gives me a slight pout.

  "If there was a problem, then you could have left a voice message or sent me a text, which you did not."

  "There was no work problem. I had everything under control here. I always do. You know that."

  I wish she would leave me the hell alone today. I feel a migraine coming on and having her in here will only make it worse.

  She smiles at me and scoots off my desk. I think she got the message and is about to turn to walk out, but no, she moves closer.

  What the fuck?

  "You look so tense, Nicholas," she says as she bends at the waist and moves her hands to my shoulder.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I question as I place my hands on her hips, halting her advancement.

  "What does it look like?" Her eyes are coy and lips are turned up.

  "For one, the goddamn door is wide the fuck open. Anyone could walk in right now. And—"

  "So what?" The bitch states as she so rudely interrupts me.

  "And," I emphasize the word strongly, "what do you think we would look like?" I ask her as I push her away from me and cross my arms over my chest.

  "Um, two adults, one massaging and taking care of the needs of the other. Really, Nicholas, what is the big deal. There is no policy against you and I being intimate."

  Fucking Christ.

  "Okay, here is the deal. We are going to forget you just said that and move on. What happened between the two of us was a mistake and I take full responsibility. We were both intoxicated and it should never have happened. You work for me and that's all. You are my employee. Its ends there. We aren't friends, Teresa, or anything else for that matter. Do you understand?"

  "Nicholas," she forces out. I hate the way my name rolls off her tongue. "If you would just stop for a minute. You would see we could be good together. This company is great. We did that. We are two strong people and together would be even better."

  What the fuck is this bitch smokin'?

  "Stop right the fuck now. This, whatever it is you think could happen between us, isn't going to happen. I have a girlfriend and she isn't you. She won't ever be you. So you can stop now and we can forget it. If not, then you will be looking for another job. Now, do you understand that?"

  "What?" she places her hands on hips. "You’re back with her, that bitch who screwed your father? Are you serious?"

  Breathe Lockhart. Just fucking breathe.

  The mention of my father and Shannon has my body screaming to hit something. I can't do that in here. This is not the place for me to show emotions, showing them would make me look weak and I’m not weak.

  Uncrossing my arms, I place them on the armrests of my chair and push myself into a standing position. This makes Teresa have to take a step back.

  "This conversation is over. I won't say it again. If you value your job here, then I suggest you leave my office. Now." My voice is firm and I my eyes are trained on her brown eyes. I can tell she wants to fight me on this. I can see it in her eyes, in her body language. But she doesn't. She is smart enough to know I'm not calling her bluff.

  Without another word, she turns and exits the room. Before I can move to close my door, the desk phone rings.

  "What?" I demand, even before the receiver touches my ear.

  The nerve of that woman. I've always known she had a thing for me, but today she took things too far. It's one thing to flaunt her tits in front of me. It's another to touch me. There is only one woman I want touching me and Teresa Matthews certainly isn’t that woman.

  "You have a Detective Manning here, claiming to have a meeting with you," Rachel says calmly.

  "Right. I didn't think to mention it when I walked in."

  "It's okay, boss. Should I show him in now?" Well, no I'd rather you not. I'd rather not have to talk to him at all, but I know I’m not getting out of it. Besides, I know it's best to know how the investigation is going and what leads, if any, they have. And well, do they suspect me?

  Fuck, what if they do suspect me?

  "Yes, please do."

  Within a few seconds, Rachel enters my office followed by the man I met yesterday. He is dressed in a black suit wearing a dark grey shirt and black tie, similar to the attire he was wearing at my father’s funeral. He's younger than my father but older than me. If I had to guess, I'd say he's in his early to mid-forties.

  "Come in," I say while trying to plaster on a fake smile as I round my desk and move in his direction. When he is close enough, I extend my hand, which he accepts.

  "Why don't we sit over there," I say, pointing to the couch and chair on the other side of my office after he draws his right hand back.

  "Certainly, Mr. Lockhart. I do appreciate you meeting with me this morning." I nod and turn my attention to Rachel.

  "Will you bring us a couple of bottles of water?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "Nothing for me," the detective interjects. "I don't see this taking up too much of your time." I'm not exactly sure if that’s a good sign of a bad one. Guess I'll find out soon enough.

  "All right then, let’s take a seat."

  I follow him over. He takes a seat in one of the two chairs and I proceed to the couch so that I am facing him.

  "What is it I can help you with, Detective Manning?" I ask as Rachel hands me a small bottle of water before turning and leaving my office. She gently pulls the door closed as she leaves.

  "I’m sorry for your loss. I don't like this part of my job, but it has to be done. I’m sure you can understand that and please do not think I'm being insensitive to your family. I'm here to solve a crime and bring a criminal to justice. In doing so, I often have to ask questions and gather information that may upset you or even your family."

  "No apology needed. You can be frank and to the point with me, Detective."

  "Good. That will make this easier. First, can you tell me where you were on the night your father was killed?"

  "I stayed the night at my girlfriend’s house. What does that have to do with my father’s death?"

  “Hopefully nothing, but in order for me to do my job and find the person who killed Judge Lewis, I have to know all the facts. Did someone have a grudge against him and hate him enough to take his life? Was it a random act and just being in the wrong place at the wrong time? In order to get all the facts, I have to know the people closest to him and their whereabouts the night of his murder.”

  Well, I did ask the man to be frank, didn’t I.

  “Of course.”

  "Thank you and her name?"

  "Shannon Taylor." I won’t have her involved in this.

  "And can anyone besides Miss Taylor verify you were there the full night?"

  "No, there is not," I respond as I twist the cap off my water and take a small sip.

  "Fair enough. Now, can you recount the events of that night? What time you went to bed, and what time you woke up?"

  I never went to sleep. Not that I can say that. I take another swallow of water trying to buy myself time. I hope I'm coming off as thinking about his questions.

  "My sister and a close friend were over with us earlier in the night. They left and I guess we went to bed maybe around eleven," I answer him as I remember Shannon falling asleep on top of me and me holding her for a long time before I placed her in bed. "I'm not sure what time we got up. My sister arrived around seven the next morning I think. Shannon was sick a few minutes prior, so maybe a quarter to seven."

  "Miss Taylor was sick on Friday, you say?" He removes a small notebook from his jacket pocket and jots something down. The way he questions that seems a bit odd.

  "Morning sickness from what I'm told. She's pregnant."

  "Ah, a baby. Well, congratulations then." For some reason, this makes me smile. He's the first person to tell me that and I might just like hearing it.

  "Thank you.”

  “Yes, well, she did seem upset when I spoke to her last week.”

  “Excuse me?” Why the hell don’t I know this already?

  “Last week, Friday afternoon actually. I was looking for you and I couldn’t reach you by phone. You mother told me you may be at her home.”

  “I apologize. I wasn’t aware you were looking for me. It’s been a long and rough week. Shannon must have forgotten to tell me.”

  “Understandable. Tell me, did you know your sister, Nicolette, got into an argument and hit your father the day prior to his death?” The detective’s face is unreadable and something I’m not used to. I like to think I read people well. Paying attention to your surroundings is really all that it comes down to, but this detective doesn’t give an inch away.

  “I heard. Nikki and my father didn’t have that daddy’s-little-girl, father-daughter type relationship. She is independent, strong willed, hardheaded, but I can assure you, my sister would never kill someone. She was at a mixed martial arts fight that night. She manages a fighter, Jason Teller. She was there later and then celebrated at a local club until early in the morning.”

  “Yes, that was her statement too.” He pauses and makes another annoying note on his pad. “And several people have backed that up. Your family has been very cooperative and the police department appreciates that. I appreciate that. I’m looking into Judge Lewis’ past cases to see if I can find a link there. So far this week, I haven’t found any leads. I know that isn’t something you want to hear, but it’s the facts.”

  “Okay.” Keeping my response simple seems the best as I drain the remainder of my water out of the bottle. He isn’t giving anything away and neither will I. At least I feel somewhat at ease. My sister doesn’t seem to be a suspect.

  “Is there anyone you can think of who would want to do harm to the judge?”

  Lots.

  “No, I cannot. I’ve wracked my brain over the last week and still can’t think of one person. He was well respected in the community, in the courtroom,” I lean forward on the couch, “and at home,” I lie.

  Respect is earned, never given freely. My father never earned that from his family. He never wanted to.

  “I spoke to Mrs. Lewis earlier this week about the investigation. I assume she has filled you in?”

  “Somewhat. We spoke briefly, but my father’s death has been hard on her.”

  “Certainly understandable. My team has hit a standstill. That doesn’t mean our investigation is over, but currently, I don’t have much. Evidence was lacking to link anything. The parking lot the judge’s car was found in did not have a working video camera and none of the residents in the community saw or heard anything. I’m sorry I don’t have more to offer, but like I said, the investigation is ongoing.”

  I nod my head, not exactly knowing how to respond.

  “Well, I don’t want to keep you any longer, Mr. Lockhart. You have answered all of my questions. Thank you and I’ll be in touch as the investigation progresses.” He stands and I follow.

  “I’ll show you out.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure I have taken up enough of your time this morning.”

  “Thank you,” I state as I extend my hand again. The detective shakes my hand and stares at me. He is slightly shorter than me so he casts his eyes up to meet mine before letting go and walking out of my office.

  Sitting back down on the couch, I lean my head back to relax. Exhaling, I let out a deep breath. That was one of the most nerve-racking meetings I’ve ever been in.

  “Boss?”

  “Yeah?” I look up to see Rachel standing just inside my office.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine,” I lie. I seem to be making a habit of that lately. “What do you need?”

  “I was wondering if it was okay if I took an extra thirty minutes to an hour for lunch.”

  “Yes, that’s fine. Is there anything else?”

  “No, that’s it. Want me to bring you something back?”

  “Sure, doesn’t matter what. You can decide. I need to get some work done here. Thanks, Rachel.”

  She looks at me with an odd expression, making me wonder if I really am such a dick that I don’t thank her that often. Then I remember I am.

  Reaching for my phone, I shoot Rob a message asking about the car I bought Shannon.

  Has it arrived?

  Yes. Delivery still at 7, right?

  Correct. You have the address?

  Yes

  Finally, something to be excited about. I smile and sit down in my chair and roll forward in front of my computer.

  I hate emails.

  THIRTEEN

  I end up leaving the office much later than I anticipated. I wanted to make it to Shannon’s by six, but as I’m pulling in the driveway, it’s a quarter-to-seven.

  Shit, Rob will be here with the delivery and I need to distract her.

  As I climb out of the Audi, I see Jase’s Jeep parked along the curb in front of Shannon’s house. That means my sister is here and she owes me.

  Making my way up to the front door, I turn the knob, open the door and walk inside. Immediately, I’m greeted by my dog jumping up and down. I toss my keys into the basket next to the door and bend down, scooping Charmin into my arms.

  Closing the door, I look around and see Shannon, Nikki and Jase out on the back deck. Nikki turns her head and sees me. I make a come-here gesture with my finger. She hesitates as I watch her, but eventually comes inside.

  “Want a beer?” she asks as she tosses her empty one into the trash. I follow her into the kitchen.

  “Sure,” I respond as I place the dog back onto the floor. Charmin quickly runs to the doggy door going out the back.

  Handing me a cold bottle of beer, I take the cap off and toss it onto the counter as my sister does the same.

  “Reason you avoided me during the entire service yesterday?” she so calmly asks, knowing she already knows.

  “You know why. Let’s not play stupid on that one.”

  Tipping the bottle back, I let the icy cold liquid drain into my mouth and down my throat. I damn near empty the contents in one drink. It’s been a long day, dealing with that detective and then Teresa pulling her bullshit little games.

  “Fine. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Not accepting her sorry-ass apology I lightly grab her by the wrist as she tries to walk past me, heading back outside.

  “I’m tired of you doing shit, fucking up and then wanting back into my good graces after the fact. I don’t play that, do it and then ask for forgiveness later shit. What’s up with you? This, what you have been doing, isn’t like you. You’ve been off lately so let’s hear it.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26