A Demon in Stilettos

Also By Empress LaBlaque

Perchance to Dream

Black Satin Confessions ~ Revenge Anthology Series

She Volume 1

Her Chrystal Chameleon Volume 4

Caught in a Spider’s Web Volume 3

My Italian Vendetta Volume 2

The Paper Doll Volume 5

My Sweet Cherry Rose

Tari’s Treasures

TABOO!

Kennedy Kingston, PI

Victorian Dreams

Bad Boys Don’t Play Fair

Gideon’s Girl

In Pursuit of Passion

Love Among The Thorns

Private Chronicles of the Paranormal

An Empress for Pantheon

Cornbread & Caviar

Cat’s Desire

Hellcat on a Leash

A Demon in Stilettos

By

Empress LaBlaque

A Demon in Stilettos

A Whispers Publishing Publication

September 2011

Copyright © 2011 Empress LaBlaque

Cover illustration copyright © 2011 Anastasia Rabiyah

ISBN Not Assigned

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

Published by:
Whispers Publishing
, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165
.

Chapter One

It was a beautiful Saturday morning. Excited about her plans, Coy walked down the steps of her apartment carrying her straw tote and a large brimmed hat. She strolled toward her older model car with a carefree stride. After eight years of living in Yates, she still loved garage sales. The Scottsdale Community was near her job at the research center. Working as a lab tech, she was always in a hurry, never finding time to stop and browse. Friday, she promised to treat herself to a day of carefree shopping.

Braving neighborhood after neighborhood, Coy searched for unwanted treasures.Finally, she came across a large sign. The Methodist church was hosting an enormous outside bazaar. Tables were loaded with once-coveted items, baked goods, and great books. With her straw tote across her shoulder, Coy got out of her car and bustled through the crowded space. In the sweltering heat, her jeans felt tight and uncomfortable. A long sleeved tee had not been a good fashion choice for the sweltering spring weather.

Coy was not a rookie shopper, she never left home ill-prepared. However this time, she’d left her sun hat in the car. As punishment for this error, she browsed with the sun’s beams scorching her bare head. Perspiration beaded on her breasts and periodically, ran down her toned stomach. Ignoring the grit in her sandals, Coy persevered. Although it was unseasonably hot, she was driven to seek more. A garage sale junkie from birth, she needed her fix.

After browsing for almost an hour, nothing seemed to interest her. She raised her damp bangs, wiped sweat from her brow, then adjusted her black-rimmed glasses. Nothing could deter her mission for a great bargain. An organized display seemed to materialize right before her eyes. Knowing items were placed strategically to entice her, she approached the congested table.

What have we here?
A delicately beaded shawl had summoned her attention. She picked up the neatly folded wrap, and marveled at the intricate craftsmanship. Iridescent beads reflected the sunlight; she smiled, then placed the find across her arm.

Someone had placed a large painting against a table. Coy took a step backwards to take in all the colors. The hues were bright yellow with soft pinks and greens. Running her fingers over the muted tones, she visualized the picture hanging over her bed. Twisting her full lips pensively, she sighed. Since moving to her new apartment, she’d learned that less is more. With the shawl still draped across her arm, Coy placed the painting aside.

A crowded shoe rack drew her attention. Like kryptonite to superman, shoes were her one weakness. Already, owning far too many pairs, guilt tugged at her mind. Warring against her principles, Coy examined her frivolous need for shoes.
I might as well admit it—I’m sick. After I buy these shoes, I’m checking myself into the clinic. Monday morning. I promise. I swear I need help. This is the last pair of shoes I’m going to buy.

As she searched the rack of worn shoes, a patent leather stiletto drew her attention. Gasping at the extraordinary sight, she placed her tote on the ground.
My, my, my. What have we found here?
Coy looked over her shoulder to see if anyone else had noticed her magnificent discovery. The hardly worn shoe was impeccable, black, with an open toe. The heel was smooth and in great shape. Attached to the back of the shoe was a pleated patent leather bow.
Sassy bow. What a sexy shoe.

Coy pushed against the attractive bow, then buffed the dusty shoe with her sleeve. Seeing a brilliant shine emerging, she ran her gaze over the entire shoe. Quality leather seduced her. The open toe showed no signs of wear and there were no scuff marks of any sort. Coy admiredthe shiny black stiletto, then peered inside.

This was no ordinary leather shoe. Gold lettering bragged the expensive taste of the previous owner. Coy checked the shoe for size. Engraved into the leather was the number seven.
Perfect.
Holding the shoe to her breasts she searched for the mate.
My feet are too damp and dirty. I’ll try them on at home.
She looked beneath the shoe.A few gravel marks were embedded in the leather sole.
With that opened toe, they’ll fit perfectly.

Pushing her glasses up on her nose, Coy searched for the mate to the black stiletto. Unfortunately, it was nowhereto be found. She turned over items and pushed shoes aside, but still, there was no mate. In desperation, Coy inquired of a woman who was wearing a church bazaar apron and tag. “Excuse me, Miss. I’m trying to locate the mate to this shoe. Can you help me find it?”

The woman placed her clipboard on the table and removed the shoe from Coy’s grasp. “That’s one elegant shoe. Simply captivating!”

With the shawl still draped across her arm, Coy wiped her long bangs from her eyes.“I agree. They’re in perfect condition.”

The woman cast her gaze across the sea of shoppers, then she turned the pages on her clipboard. “Let’s see.Table seven. Table seven. Oh, okay. These items belong to Shela. She’s new at our church. I’ll bet she’s misplaced the match. Wait just a moment.” The woman caught the arm of another worker as she walked past. “Did Shela bring these shoes to the bazaar?”

The worker picked up the shoe and eyed the delicate craftsmanship. “Stunning shoe. I’m pretty sure Shela brought these. The mate probably fell off the rack someplace. She’s over there.” She pointed toward a woman who was fixing a dish display. From her side profile, Coy could see her skin was darkly tanned.With her long dark hair pulled back in a scarf, her Gypsy styled earrings were highly visible. “I’ll get her. Excuse me, please.”

As the woman walked past, Coy followed her. A gust of wind suddenly blew items askew, and volunteers rushed to retrieve them. Instinctively, Coy shielded her glasses to deflect flying debris. The closer they walked toward Shela, the higher the winds became.

When Coy touched Shela’s arm, the winds suddenly abated. Shela then turned with a smile. “Whew,” she pulled a stray hair back in place, “strange weather we’re having.” Noticing the shoe clutched in the woman’s hand, she asked, “What can I do for you?”

The woman showed Shela the black stiletto. “This lady is interested in buying these shoes. Would you happen to know the whereabouts of the mate?” Hesitating, she reluctantly passed the shoe to Coy.

A peculiar breeze raised Shela’s colorful full skirt. She grinned enigmatically, her voice haunting and deep. “So, she wants to buy the shoes?”

Pointing across the parking lot, the woman acknowledged. “You placed them on that rack over there.”

Shela’s green eyes glimmered. Slowly she pulled the shoe’s mate from her cobbler’s apron. Seeing the shoe, Coy heaved a sigh of relief. However, when she reached for the mate, Shela pulled it from her grasp. With a smug expression, she tapered her eyes. “I see the shoes have found you.”

“Found me?” Coy raised her brows, and then she reached for the shoe a second time. “No, I found them.”

As if holding a precious item, Shela suspended her shoe by the heel. “What is your name?”

Coy placed her tote on the ground and laid the shawl upon it. “I’m Coy VanAlstine. I work at the research center—the one near the medical center.”

Shela looked down her slender nose at Coy. “My name is Shela. Shela Neves. I’m new in Yates. I’ve been a member at this church for a short period of time. My new husband is a member here.”With long pink nails, Shela removed the shoe from Coy’s possession and paired it with the other.She cast her green eyed gaze over Coy’s medium frame; lastly, she gawked at the painted toes of her dusty feet. “I see you’re a determined woman.”

“I believe in hard work.” Coy wiggled her nose beneath her glasses.

“That’s obvious.” Shela gave a dramatic pause while running her fingers along the shoes. “Are you woman enough to wear these shoes?”

Coy sighed.
Another crackpot.
Then she looked into the woman’s mysterious green eyes. “I wear heels often. I love shoes, period. How much are they?”

In a breathy tone Shela replied, “They aren’t for sale.”

Hearing Shela’s response, Coy became anxious. “But, they were mixed in with the other items.” She pointed in the direction of the shoe rack. “Won’t you please consider selling them? I’d really like to have them.”

Shela placed her finger aside her nose. “I tell you what, Coy Van—Alstine. Answer my question, and I will give you the shoes.”

“Give?” Coy narrowed her eyes. “Answer a question and the shoes are mine for free?”

“Exactly.”

Feeling as if she should walk away, Coy pursued Shela’s offer. “Let me make a donation or something.”

Shela rolled her eyes. “No.” She put the shoes in her apron’s pocket, then placed her hand on Coy’s shoulder. “Seven years of marriage. A beautiful male. No sex. You love him dearly. What would you do?”

Coy stood blinking. She pursed her lips. “Is that the question?”

“Is it too simple?”

“No, it isn’t. Well, if I loved him, we would find other ways of sharing our affection.”

Shela looked toward the sky, then smiled. “Are you the one?” she whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“Inside your purse, there is a keepsake, one that you cherish. You’ve carried this item since childhood. Let me see it.”

Coy was puzzled, but picked up her purse. With eyes committed to the woman, she opened her large bag and rambled about. Her fingers met the cool metal of her keys. Immediately, she recalled the precious trinket on her keychain.

When Coy was ten, her family went on a picnic. While playing in the woods, Coy and her brother had found a pebble. There was nothing special or unique about it. This particular stone was smooth, sandy in color, but with a streak of blue embedded throughout the rock. Because that day had been magical, Coy equated the rock with family, togetherness, laughter, and good times. It was only a keepsake of that special day.