Stilettos & Scoundrels (42 page)

“Presley
,
you need to stop asking questions. When you find this stuff out
,
just come to me and I will handle it.”

“No
,
Cooper.
T
his is a team effort remember.
Do you want the answers to your other questions or not?
”

“
No.
You don’t know what you are doing. Leave this stuff to me.
I
…”

I snapped my phone shut and quickly turned it off.
Now
Cooper’s calls
would go right to voicemail.
I
could later claim the battery died
.
Oops, should have brought my car charger.
I
threw
my phone in my purse and started the car. I was calling it a night. I
wanted to go home and
stuff my
self wit
h some of the chocolate cake I knew my
mother made for dinner. That would definitely be worth listen
ing to my
mother
complain
about me not
being
h
ome hours ago with the stuff I
picked up.
Wait a minute... Jackpot!
Yes!
I
knew
that if I waited long enough I
would see Tobey’s guest. What’s that saying:
“
Good things come to those who wait?
” I
watched Bobby Johnson stroll up the w
alkway to Tobey’s building. I
couldn’t tell what apartment he went into, but
I
doubted he was visiting anyone else this time of night. That would be quite the coincidence.
Part of me
wanted to go back to Tobey’s and surprise him and Bobby. If he would even open the door, that is.
I
decided against it. For one, I
was sure they didn’t murder the Senator
, and I
might as well give them some privacy. Eventually this would be out and everyone would be gossiping about them soon enough.
And for another thing
, the thought of chocolate cake was much more enticing than solving a myst
ery at this moment. Besides, I
needed to figure out how to deal with
Cooper. I
knew he wouldn’
t be happy about me
hanging up on him
,
and he was pissed off to begin with.

I put my
car in drive to pull out of the apartment complex and turned left.
“
Shit!
” I
was supposed to turn right
; this was a dead end. I
pulled in to an empty parking spot
, put my
car in reverse, and backed out, noticing a black Cadillac
through my rearview mirror
.
Was that Simon?
There couldn’t be that many b
lack Cadillacs in this town. I
looked harder and realized it was Simon’s
car
.
What
was he doing
t
here
at
Tobey’s apartment complex
’s
parking lot
—
with a wom
a
n
?
And, most surprising of all, the woman was
Helen! Of all people.
What the hell was going on?
Helen had just told me
she was afraid of Simon and here she was in a car with him
!
This was getting weirder by the s
econd. Now I
regretted hanging up on
Cooper because I
would love to tell him about this turn of events.

******

“We shouldn’t be meeting like this,” Helen hissed.

“Relax, Helen.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, Simon. Tobey lives here for God sakes. This is a small town. I can’t afford to have anyone see me with you.”

“But it’s okay to be seen with Chris?”

“Oh, stop it. You know that has to be done.”

“Well, I don’t have to like it.”

“You need to worry about Garrison hanging around.”

“Baby, I told you I can handle him.”
“You’d better.”

Walking out o
f the Coffee Café sipping on my
large latte, looking up at the bright sky,
I
wished they made gallon
-size cups and that I hadn’t left my
sunglasses in the car. Last night
I
hadn’t been able to sleep at all, tossing and turning until finally giving up at 5
a.m. and doing some work on my
computer
. I put together the notes I had thus far for my
piece on the Senator
—the job I neglected when I
took a nap y
esterday. No matter how much I
tried, I
couldn’t come up with much. Complete writer
’
s block. Not enough information and all this drama,
and the stress of this being my
first time as a writer, was about as good a combination
as a brown and orange sweater: e
veryone knows that was so tw
o seasons ago. I
’d been do
dging Trevor’s calls because I
didn’t know what to tell him. It shouldn’t be this difficult to write a stupid article.

It was way too early to be up
, and I
needed some
chemical help. So I
threw on some jeans and snuck out
of the house to get what my
mother called
“
fancy
”
coffee
. My
parents had already left to do something
together
early
that morning.
My mother was always yelling at me about spending my
mo
ney on things like that, but I missed my
latte.

After a co
uple sips of the hot brew, I
finally started to feel human again. This was worth every penny. The sunshine held the promise of it being a warm spring day
,
which was exciting. There was nothing better than the first few days of spring.

As
I
was enjoying the effec
t the caffeine was having on my
body and basking i
n the warmth of the morning, I
saw a figure in the parking lot, hands in pockets, staring at
me. As I
headed toward my car and got a couple steps closer, I
realized who it was: Simon Atkins.
Uh-oh
. Something told me
he wasn’t waiting to chat,
not at seven in the morning. I
looked around
,
but there was no one out except
a couple of senior citizens. I
wasn’t sure they would be much help unless they’d started taking karate lessons instea
d of playing bingo. Oh well, I shrugged. What did I
have to be afraid of? It’s broad daylight
. He wouldn’t do anything to me
in broad daylight.
Would he?
I groaned. I
definitely needed more caffeine for t
his and a better outfit. Now I
regretted walk
ing out of the house the way I did. At least if I looked good I
would have the upper hand
, but i
t was hard to feel
confident in dirty jeans and I
didn’t even have cool shoes on to offset the jeans.
I patted my hair, unable to remember what it even looked like when I walked out of the house. I
lo
oked down at the tennis shoes I
threw on and wished
I had my
red Enzos with
the
three
-
inch stilettos. Not only would they look hot, but
they
could be used as a weapon.

I
ha
d
no choice
but to walk over to him because he was parked right next to my
Kia
. As I neared him, my
false bravado wan
ed
when I
saw
that
Simon’s face
was
set in a stony grimace
.
T
his was definitely not a social call.
He looked downright
menacing
or maybe I just felt more vulnerable today due to the shoe thing. When I
g
ot within a few feet of him, I
stopped, wait
ed, and just looked at him. I
sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first one
to speak. As hard as it was, I
was determined to wait him out
, and m
ake him
think I
wasn’t scared.

“Is there something you need
,
Simon?” Ok
ay, so I
got impatient.
I managed to keep my
tone neutral
;
there w
as no reason to let him know I
was scared shitless
.
I
needed to give off the impression
that I could hold my
own with him. He didn’t say anything. He just stared back.
He was pretty good at the staring thing. Didn’t even blink.

“Well? Cat got your tongue?” I thought maybe if I
didn’
t act scared he would think I
was tough.
Ha! Fat chance of that.
Looking at him
, I once again cursed my
self for not putting on a better outfit to get coffee. The outfit always made the difference.
He was wearing
black boots, faded jeans, un-tucked blue
-striped
button
-
down shirt, and a
black
leather jacket; the effect was very casual and sexy in an intimidating way. Had he worn, say, a y
ellow polo and tennis shoes, I
probably wouldn’t be as nervous. You can’t look scary in yellow
, t
hough
there’s
not much you could do about the bald
head and lots of muscles, even if they were encased in yellow.

He smiled at me,
but it didn’t reach his eyes. His blue eyes were cold and flat. He looked all business. “Enjoying your coffee?”
He asked
in a seemingly gracious tone, as if he didn’t have a care in the world and was
just
making conversation.

Please!
As if he really cared about my
coffee.
I rolled my
eyes and gave him a look
—
the kind that was supposed to make the other person feel stupid or belittled
. That happened to be one of my
best looks
; I
worked hard at it and used it often
, but it didn’t seem to affect him at all.
“It’s wonde
rful. Thank you for asking,” I
replied dryly. “You really should go try some. They make a mean cappuccino. Or maybe you like straight espresso
,” I
sai
d in the most charming voice I
could muster. Maybe
I
could kill him wi
th kindness before he killed me for real. I
was getting overly drama
tic. He wasn’t going to kill me
. Why would he? This wasn’t the movies.

“So, you fancy yourself some kind of investigator?” he asked, puffing on a lit cigarette
.

Yuck, who even smoked anymore? Well, besides Helen. Funny they had that in common.
This made me
not like him all the more
—
filthy habit.
“What are you getting at, Simon? I don’t have time to sit here and chat.”

“You seem to be poking your nose into a lot of things that aren’t your concern,” he replied.

“What’s it to you?”

“A pretty little thing like you could get hurt sticking her nose where i
t
doesn’t belong,”
he said, taking a step toward me
.

“Why, Simon, are you threatening me?”
I raised my eyebrows.

He shook his head. “Now, now. There’s no reason to get all
dramatic on me. I’m not trying to threaten you. Let’s just say it would be in your best interest
s
to just enjoy this time with your parents and go back to the city. Relax. You don’t need to be trying to find out who killed the Senator. Leave it to those who know what they are doing.”