03 - Organized Grime (18 page)

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Authors: Christy Barritt

BOOK: 03 - Organized Grime
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I nodded, still staring off into space as I sat across from Riley at The Grounds. I hadn’t even touched my latte yet, and me with a cold latte was never a good sign. Riley had known me long enough to know that.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” But my voice sounded listless, even to my own ears.

He reached across the table until his fingers touched mine. Those lovely blue eyes of his met mine. “Give your dad some time. Give yourself some time. And then talk again. You guys can work this out.”

At the mention of my dad, all happy thoughts vanished. “He got drunk and went driving around town, Riley. He could have killed someone. He could have killed himself. He tells everyone that he’s changed, but he hasn’t.”

“Sometimes change takes time, Gabby. What he did was horrible. I agree with you, and I don’t have any tolerance for drunk driving. More so, I’m sorry he hurt you. I know you’ve been trying to repair your relationship for a long time now.”

I straightened, not wanting to talk about this anymore. I had to figure some things out and wrestle with my own thoughts for awhile before anything would make sense.

Instead, I looked beyond Riley. I looked at those paintings that depicted my life. Sharon had offered to take them down, but I told her not to. I still held onto the hope that maybe I’d be able to corner the artist if she stopped by again.

I had so much to process.

My thoughts drifted to Sierra again. Where was my friend right now? It wasn’t the same hanging out here without her. I needed to hear her crazy stories. I needed to tell her my crazy stories so she could tell her crazy friends. I wanted her to be here laughing with me about whatever misunderstanding it was that had stirred up this whole mess.

Would that be how this all ended? Would we ever be able to laugh about this situation? Or would it end in tragedy?

My cell phone rang—again. Who was it this time with bad news? I saw Parker’s number on my caller ID. My stomach sank. “What is it?”

“Someone else has been murdered, Gabby.”

“And you’re calling to tell me. That’s a first.”

“You haven’t been here to clean up because the scene hasn’t been released. There’s a picture of Sierra here, though. I thought you’d want to know.”

“What do you mean a picture of Sierra?”

“Someone stuck it on the bookshelf between pictures of the family.”

“What kind of picture is it?”

“Gabby, I don’t know how to tell you this, but it’s a picture of her with a bullet between her eyes.”

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

The room felt like it was spinning. “I want to see it.”

“You can’t see it. It’s evidence. Besides, you shouldn’t see it.”

“Is it real? Is the photo real?” It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be true.

“We’ll send it to our lab for them to look at it. It’s hard to say.”

“Who died this time?” Which crime scene was this at?

“I can’t release that information. The family hasn’t been told yet. As soon as the information is public, I’ll let you know.”

A sob escaped as my phone fell to the floor. I closed my eyes. Pinched the bridge of my nose.

“What is it?” Riley, who’d been staring at me, eyebrows scrunched, now slid his chair across the floor until he was beside me. “Your dad?”

I shook my head. “Sierra. They found a picture of her. Dead. She’s dead.”

Riley pulled me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Gabby.”

“This is my fault. I should have helped her. I should have tracked down the bad guys faster. She begged for my help every time she called, but I failed her.”

His piercing gaze met mine. “That’s ridiculous. You’re not guilty here, Gabby. Whoever is playing this terrible game is.”

No, I wouldn’t relinquish—my guilt or my responsibility—that easily. “I shouldn’t have been having shrimp boils and rejoicing that my brother is home again. I shouldn’t have even been going to class or bailing out my dad. I should have been spending every moment looking for my friend.”

He shook his head, probably the way he did in court when he argued before a jury. “You did everything you could. You followed every lead. You’ve been worrying yourself sick. Gabby, you’ve got to listen to me. This isn’t your fault. Do you understand that?”

I barely heard him. “I’m going to figure out who did this. I will find them...”

“I don’t like this, Gabby. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t like it. I think you should step back from this investigation.”

Step back from this investigation
. Those words pulled me from my daze and ignited something in me. “Nothing can keep me away now. Nothing.” I wiped a tear that flowed down my cheek. “I hate this. I really hate this.”

Riley cupped my cheek with his hand. “I’m so sorry, Gabby.”

He held me for a moment. I tried to digest everything, but I couldn’t. I needed some space for a moment.

I pulled back and grabbed a napkin to wipe under my eyes. “Riley, would you go get some ice cream?”

“Ice cream?”

I nodded. “Chocolate ice cream. I just need to process things, and ice cream always helps. I know the request seems odd, but…”

He nodded, seeming to understand.  “Don’t explain. Do you want to go with me?”

I shook my head. “I’ll wait here.”

“I’ll run to the market up the street and when I get back we’ll go back up to your place and try to sort this out. Okay? There’s nothing you can do right now, so we might as well talk and clear our heads.”

Ice cream. Talking through things with Riley. I could handle those two things.

Most of all, I could handle a few minutes alone so I could figure out my next plan of action. Who should I track down first about this? Lydia maybe? Broken Arrow?

I nodded. “It’s a plan.”

 

***

 

I tried to wait at The Grounds, but I really just wanted a moment alone and I wasn’t getting that here among the chatter of patrons and strands of acoustic love songs. Instead, I crossed the street, trying to ignore the frigid wind that crept through my clothing and chilled me to the bone. I’d told Sharon to pass on the message to Riley that I’d headed back to my place.

My head pounded when I walked up to the apartment building. How could this have happened? Could it be true? Could Sierra really be dead?

Could things be any more of a mess? And, to top everything off, I’d missed my class tonight. I couldn’t miss any more. I had to graduate or I’d let myself down—again. I wasn’t sure my ego could survive another disappointment like that.

At least I was alive to even contemplate these things.

I nearly felt too exhausted to even lift my key and shove it into the lock. Somehow, I managed. Inside, the stairway was dark. Had the light burned out again? Something had to be wrong with the socket. I needed to tell our landlord about it, because I was tired of changing that light bulb myself.

I stopped in front of Sierra’s door and felt more tears prick my eyes. She wasn’t dead. I refused to believe that it was true. She’d emerge from her apartment again one day with a plate of acorn brownies in her hands. Or she’d be wearing her tiger costume that she liked to don when protesting the circus. Sierra… well, she’d made me feel normal with her outlandish ways and that was quite an accomplishment in itself.

I took a step toward the stairs when I heard a creak. I paused. Or did I hear a creak? This place was old and full of odd sounds.

I tried to ignore that tension that pinched my back muscles, tried to ration that I was paranoid.

Just as my hand gripped the railing, a figure flew out from behind the staircase. His fist collided with my face, the force of the punch knocking me into the wall before I slid down onto the floor. My world began spinning, and I tried to right it. But before I could, another punch connected with my jaw.

Everything blurred around me as pain screamed down every inch of my body.

A man. Dressed in black. Ski mask. I tried to observe and soak everything in. I never got very far, though. His fist rammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

Fight back, Gabby. Fight back.

But I couldn’t even stand up. How could I fight back?

This man was going to kill me, wasn’t he?

Lord, help me.

The man jerked me to my feet and threw me back into the wall. Before I could even scream, he jerked me toward him, spun me around and shoved me back against the wall again. He pressed into me, pinning my arms at my side.

I could feel his breath on my neck and the very feel of it caused sickly sensations to pool in my stomach.

I needed to fight back. But I couldn’t move. The parts of my body that didn’t ache felt frozen. Tears rushed to my eyes as fear caused trembles to overtake me.

“Listen closely, Ms. St. Claire.”

I said nothing, so he rammed me into the wall again. My forehead slammed into the wood causing flashes to blink in my vision. My shoulder collided with the wall also and a screeching pain ripped down my arm.

“Are you listening?”

I nodded.

He pressed himself into me harder, and that sickly feeling roiled in my gut again.

“I said, are you listening?”

“Yes.” My voice sounded strained. I hated myself for sounding so weak.

“Leave it alone.”

“Leave what alone?”

“Whatever it is that you’re doing. Your investigation. Drop it.”

“Why?”

I could feel his lips on my ear. “Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you next time. This is just a warning. Got it?” He grabbed my hair and pulled back so far that my neck felt like it could break. A whimper escaped me.

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

“I’m going to make sure you don’t forget.”

He slammed my head into the wall again, and everything went black.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Gabby? Gabby, can you hear me?”

Someone shook my shoulder. I wanted to scream for them to stop, to explain the pain that seeped into every cell of my body. But I couldn’t. Instead, I wept.

“Gabby, it’s going to be okay. The ambulance is on its way.”

Who said that? Where was I? What had happened?

It all flashed back in my mind. Sierra was dead. I’d been beaten up. And, apparently, if I decided to follow this investigation, death would continue to follow me.

I opened my eyes and saw Riley’s blurry face peering at me.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he muttered. “I should have known better.”

I wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t feel guilty, just like he’d told me that I shouldn’t feel guilty only moments ago. But my lips wouldn’t move. Blood washed down into my throat. My entire face ached and felt swollen. My ribs felt like a thousand pounds rested atop them. My shoulder felt like it had been moved to a new location.

Yeah, someone had done a number on me. Didn’t they know that the more they tried to stop me, the more determined I would become?

“Gabby, stay with me.”

Blackness closed in on me, though. I reached for the light, tried to stay lucid. But it was no use. I slipped back into the darkness around me.

 

***

 

When I opened my eyes again, I was surrounded by bright light. I waited to hear the heavenly angels singing their choruses or to see some clouds float by. Instead, I heard beeping. I felt my body aching. No, this wasn’t heaven after all.

It was the hospital.

My gaze traveled down, and there was Riley. His chair was pulled up to my bed. His hair was tousled and his eyes closed as he rested his head on my hand. How long had he been here? How long had I been here?

I tried to sit up, but my neck hurt. My head hurt. Heck, my whole body hurt. Instead, I let my gaze travel the length of my body. A bandage of some sort was wrapped around my mid-section, as well as my shoulder. A neck brace prevented my chin from bobbing downward. I couldn’t be certain, but I was pretty sure that bandages circled around my head also.

I had to be a sight.

Riley lifted his head. His sleepy eyes blinked at me a moment before he straightened and leaned toward me. “Gabby, you’re awake.”

“I feel like I’d be better off dead.” My lips even ached when they moved. Not a good sign.

Riley’s eyes glimmered with concern as he stroked my hand. “Don’t say that. I was afraid you were dead there for awhile.”

My throat was dry, but I didn’t ask for water. There were more important things to ask at the moment. “How long have I been here?”

“Since last night.” He glanced at the clock beside my bed. “Fourteen hours or so.”

“Give me a damage report.”

“Bruised rib, your shoulder was popped out of place—separated I believe is the correct term—concussion, and lots of bruises and cuts.” His eyes softened. “What happened, Gabby?”

Everything flashed back, each memory hitting me like a blow to the stomach. I closed my eyes. “There was someone waiting inside our apartment building for me. He told me to stop investigating or else this was just the start of it.”

He dipped his head. “I should have stayed with you.”

“I should have stayed at the coffeehouse like I said.”

He didn’t seem to hear me. “With everything that’s happened, I should have known.”

I squeezed his hand. “Riley, you can’t be with me every minute. I’m a big girl. I don’t want my boyfriend babysitting me all the time.”

“You could have been killed. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you were.” His eyes said it all. He felt guilty, worried, burdened.

I patted his hand. I wished I could offer more, but the motion was all I could muster at the moment. “But I wasn’t.”

“Not this time. What about next time? You’ve got to stay out of this, Gabby.”

“Riley—” Someone burst into the room, effectively cutting me off.

For the first time in my life, I was happy to see Parker. He charged into the room before Riley and I could continue that conversation. I knew it wouldn’t go well when we revisited the topic. And I just didn’t feel up to arguing at the moment.

 

***

 

The next several hours were spent giving reports, being checked on by doctors and nurses, and delighting in my pain medicine.

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