Deadly In Stilettos (4 page)

             
Dirty dishes filled the sink in the tiny kitchen, the source adding to the foul odor. Demi almost cleaned them up. Aunt Charlotte had not tolerated a dirty kitchen, ever, so Demi knew all too well how to keep an immaculate house. At times her cleaning skills go her in trouble, because she would go behind her aunt, redoing what she had just completed.

             
The memories of Aunt Charlotte brought tears to her eyes. She missed her so much, and maybe life would have turned out differently if Aunt Charlotte had lived. Demi also thought of her mother. What would life have been like living with both of her parents? Would her father still have beaten her? Demi brushed away her emotions, remembering the reason for her visit to her father in the first place. All at once, anger and hurt filled her again. She wiped a tear from her cheek. The house was sadder than she remembered. The dust was working on her allergies overtime. She put her hand over her nose several times to keep from sneezing.

             
The couch was worn, covered with the same floral pattern from when she was a child. The carpet looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed or cleaned in years. Several bottles of liquor stood on the fireplace mantel, while others were scattered around the living room. The scene was depressing, yet Demi did not feel sorry for the person living in such squalor. The inside of the house was the picture of her life—sad, depressing, lonely, crying out for a good cleaning, and messy enough to destroy any living vessel.

             
Turning around with each step to make sure no one was behind her, Demi made her way up the narrow stairwell. One of the steps creaked, and she froze holding her breath. When no one appeared, she continued her journey. There were five closed doors on the second level of the house. Which one did her father occupy? It had been years since her last visit there, and she couldn’t remember which room was what.

             
Slowly, she walked down the hallway, pushing open the door at the very end. It was a small room painted light pink. A canopy bed with several stuffed animals on it took up most of the room, yet it had a cozy feel to it. As she stepped inside, she saw a vanity with a white jewelry box on top of it. Demi was confused. Did her father have another child? Did she have a little sister whom she knew nothing about?

             
Walking around the bed, Demi saw a window seat with built-in bookshelves. As a child, she had always wanted to have a window seat with bookshelves for her many books. Reading had been her only refuge until she met troy. Even now, she still made time to read, preferably a great mystery.

             
Something about the room felt familiar, and then it hit her. It was her old room.
The room she had once stayed in when Aunt Charlotte went away. The room she once loved, before she got locked in the basement. There were the things she left in case he came to bring her home one day. It was also the room she escaped to when her father was drunk so he couldn’t put her in the basement. The abuse was most intense when he drank, which was all the time.

             
A sound from outside the door bought her back to reality. She had to do what she came to do and get back to the airport in time to catch her midnight flight. Tomorrow, she had to pay someone else on her list a visit.

             
Closing the door quietly, Demi stepped back into the hallway. She checked inside all the other doors until there was only one left. The room was dark and quiet. She eased the door open and walked inside. An eerie feeling came over her. It was as if her father was waiting for her. A cold breeze swept across the dark room, and she shivered. She stepped farther into the room.

             
Her father lay on the bed face down. He was fully dressed and on top of the covers. The stench of alcohol permeated the air, along with the smell of fresh vomit. Demi almost coughed barely able to breathe. She fought a sudden urge to throw up herself.

             
The Something Blue satin Manolos sparkled as the light from the full moon shining through the window hit them. They gave her power. Demi walked over to the bed, pulled out the piece of fishing wire from her pocket, and slipped it around her father’s neck. Surprisingly, he did not move. “Hello, Daddy,” she surprised myself saying aloud. “I have loved you all my life, but you never wanted me. Now, I can finally move on with my life and stop allowing others to treat me the way you said they would. I am special. I deserve better, and I will find love.”

             
Demi pulled with all the strength she had. Going to the gym each day paid off tremendously. When she heard her father’s neck snap she pulled the wire from around it, placed it back in her pocket, walked to the door and left. Just like that, her father was dead. He could not hurt her anymore. For once, Demi would be able to live her life without thinking he would come for her. That would never happen. He had just entered an eternal sleep.

             
“Rock-a-bye, baby,” she said closing the door to her father’s bedroom behind her. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She was not sad she no longer had a father, but happy that he was no longer able to keep her from sleeping at night, as she relived all the horrible ways he treated her or thinking he would someday rescue her.

             
Demi did not feel any remorse as she drove her rental car back to the airport. Her flight was in an hour, so she had time to get something to eat. When she boarded the plane, she took off her Something Blue Blahniks, slid them into their special satin bag, and tucked them away in her carry-on. She rubbed her feet. When she got to her next destination, she would definitely need a pedicure. The bright red polish still shone, accenting her beautiful toes, but a different color was needed. Demi was blessed with shapely feet that garnered her many compliments, feet she knew Troy Dunbar adored especially when she wore pink polish.

             
Taking out another satin bag from her bag, Demi removed a different pair of Blahniks. Troy purchased these for her long ago. Now he would see them once again. This time, it wouldn’t be in a way he loved, but a way he was surely never to forget.

             
The flight to Chicago was four hours, so Demi put the shoes back into their bag. Closing her eyes, she drifted off into much-needed sleep. Demi was relieved. She had no nightmares involving her father. The first name was crossed from her list.

Chapter 3

AS HER
plane landed in Chicago right on schedule, Demi felt rejuvenated. The few hours of sleep had renewed her mind. Sadly, she didn’t think about her father or what she had done. There was no time for regrets, remorse, or rewind. What was done was done, and Demi wanted to move on to the next person on the list. Before she went to complete her next mission, she stopped at a local spa for a day of pampering. The full-body massage was just what she needed. Her mind was free and clear of all the negative energy from the long flight to Chicago. The last twenty-four hours were completely wiped out of her mind. To Demi, Dallas no longer existed. She had no father, and that was perfectly fine with her. He hadn’t wanted her and she no longer cared. She hoped when he got to hell, Satan would set fire to his ass.

“Is this your first time in Chicago, Miss?” the spa attendant asked.

Demi didn’t want to make small talk. She didn’t need to draw unwanted attention to herself. She was only there for a day or so, but she didn’t need anyone giving her description to the police when word got out about a death in the area.

             
“No,” she answered rudely. “I am here on business, but if you don’t mind, I would like to get dressed in peace. Please shut the door when you leave.”

             
The woman did as Demi asked, but gave her a look of disgust before leaving her alone. Demi didn’t like being rude to anyone because of the way she had been treated all her life, but she couldn’t take any chances.

             
Once dressed, Demi admired her stilettos: open-toe Manolo Blahnik sandals made with a bronzed snakeskin and aged brass. They sparkled, looking great on her earth-toned feet with their freshly painted pink nail polish.

             
As she walked out of the spa, several people admired her shoes, complimenting her on them. Demi smiled. She loved getting attention, especially because of her shoes. Stilettos were a work of art, transforming even the most unattractive legs into pure beauty. She nodded in response to the compliments and slipped on her large sunglasses.

             
After Troy gave Demi her first pair of stilettos, all of the money Demi saved went to purchasing another pair, and another. Before her sixteenth birthday, she had as many shoes as most women had in a lifetime. She had to hide them from her aunt, fearing she would ask where she got them and find out about Troy. Aunt Charlotte was a simple woman. She did not have much use for shoes, clothing, or any other item that brought attention from the opposite sex. She only had five pair of shoes. “Girl,” she had said to Demi, “you can’t wear but one pair at a time, so why you need so many?” Demi smiled, thinking of the way her aunt placed her hands on her hips when she felt inclined to share something important with her. Those were a few of the things she missed about her aunt. Recalling how serious her aunt’s face would get sometimes made Demi laugh out loud. Several women eyed her suspiciously, in passing thinking she was probably a lunatic.

             
Even though Manolo Blahniks were her favorite, Demi also had her fair share of Jimmy Choo, Kate Spade, Gucci, Christian Louboutin, Michael Kors, and several other famous designer names.

             
Troy loved to see her walk around in stilettos. He told her they made her look older, like a woman, sophisticated and classy. Demi done all she could to please Troy. Some of her friends, like Anya Bankston, called her stupid for that. Demi did not care what they thought, as long as she kept Troy satisfied. Her life was filled with joy and the love she never had from a man—until he starting abusing her behind closed doors. Even then, she still craved the attention he gave her when she didn’t make him so angry.

             
Until he left her in the middle of the desert, Demi still loved him, and she hoped that he too would one day come back for her. Unfortunately, that never happened. The place he once held in her heart vanished, replaced by the bittersweet revenge she would soon fulfill.

             
It had been hard to track down Troy at first, because he constantly moved from place to place. With the support of his family’s money, Troy worked as a music producer. He was doing well in the industry, producing several tracks for King Lot, Summer Breeze, and the Hard-knock Boyz. Many who knew him said he had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. The oil industry was big in Texas, and Troy’s father seemed to own about half of it. Demi never wanted Troy for his money, though. She loved him. He made her feel special, safe, and like a woman, instead of the teenage girl she was. She hadn’t even known until few years ago who his parents were. Troy looked exactly like his father.

             
At first, Demi wasn’t sure showing up at the huge office building that housed the Dunbar oil business was a good idea, but when she told the receptionist who she was, Mr. Dunbar saw her immediately. They chatted for hours. Demi also spoke to Troy’s mother over the phone when his father called to tell her that their son’s fiancée was in town. Demi had been amazed how Troy’s name barely came up and neither parent asked any personal questions about her. Once Mr. Dunbar disclosed the whereabouts of her prey, Demi promised to stay in touch. Under different circumstances, meeting Troy’s parents would have been a delight, but she knew she would never see them again. Just for a minute she hated what she was going to do to their beloved son, but that thought quickly passed. Troy didn’t have any remorse for all the pain and suffering he caused her, so why should she worry about him or his family?