Authors: Shelley Michaels
My
stomach grumbling distracts me from my perusal. I haven’t eaten since
yesterday morning, not relishing the thought of airplane food. Grabbing
my handbag, I push it over my shoulder and make for the outside world.
‘There
she is,’ Marnie greets me like an old friend from behind the reception desk.
‘Oh, you look rested you, beautiful girl, you,’ she remarks. ‘You must be
hungry do you want me to make you something, honey?’
‘Do
you have a restaurant area?’ I ask, softly.
‘The
restaurant isn’t open until tonight now, honey. You want something, I can
rustle you up something,’ she offers. Her brown hair, sprinkled with grey
is pulled into a bun at her nape, her friendly grey eyes lined with mascara,
her mouth painted pillow box red.
‘That’s
really kind of you Marnie, but I need to report to the police station, I need
to find out what’s happening with my brother’s investigation, I’ll get
something in town. Anywhere you can recommend?’
‘Go
to Ellie’s, honey. She’ll set you up with something delicious,’ her eyes
soften, ‘I’m so sorry this has happened to you, Sophie,’ she touches my
arm. ‘If I can do anything to lessen your pain, you tell me.’
‘Thank
you,’ I drop my eyes to my passport held in my hand. ‘Do you need a
credit card on file, or for me to sign anything?’
‘It’s
okay, honey, we will sort it out another time. You do what you need to do
for your brother, and I’ll see you later. You want me to book you a table
for dinner?’
‘I
don’t think so, thank you. I will eat now,’ I smile. ‘Can you
direct me to the police station?’
‘It’s
the sheriff’s office, honey. Back down the hill and take a right, second
left. Ellie’s is on the same stretch,’ she notifies me, ‘I’ll call her
now and tell her to prepare you something.’ Marnie’s perceptive gaze
lingers on my slight figure, ‘when was the last time you ate, honey?’
‘Yesterday
morning,’ I admit ignoring the growl of my stomach.
‘You
have to eat, child,’ she tuts, her hand at her hip.
I
smile, it’s been so long since someone had fussed over me, I’d forgotten how
warm it makes you feel inside. ‘I’m okay, Marnie. Thank you,’ I
turn with a wave.
********
‘Yes,
Ma’am?’ A blonde, slim built police officer sits on the reception desk of the sheriff’s
office; his eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of him.
‘Yes,
I wonder whether I could speak to someone regarding Oliver Parker, please?’ I
request, politely.
His
alert, blue eyes move to mine, ‘Miss Parker, we were expecting you,’ his gaze
moves over me appreciatively. ‘If you would like to take a seat, I will check
if Detective Austin has a moment to speak with you.’ He picks up the
phone set beside him and without taking his eyes off of my breasts, I hear him
speak into the receiver. ‘Mo, can you tell Nate, Miss Parker is here to
see him.’ He grins salaciously before moving his eyes up to mine, ‘Frank
was right, absolutely stunning!’
I
glare at him as I turn and take a seat beside a blonde woman, who looks
slightly worse for wear. She’s dressed in a denim mini-skirt that leaves very
little to the imagination, her low cut tank exposing her well-endowed cleavage.
‘Hey
doll!’ she slurs.
‘Hi,’
I attempt to breathe through my mouth to prevent me getting drunk on the
alcoholic fumes that are emanating from her.
‘You
sure have pretty eyes,’ she announces through the squinting of her eyes.
‘I do girls, too, you interested,’ she states. I almost giggle at the
seriousness of her proposal.
‘I’m
good thank you,’ I smile, ‘I like penis’s.’
‘Me
too doll, me too,’ she shakes her head with a small smile set on her lipstick
smeared mouth.
I
wait for a full five minutes that I have to admit feels closer to fifteen until
I see a tall, dark-haired man with the bluest eyes I have ever seen, swagger
into the reception area from behind the counter. He’s dressed in jeans and a
grey button-down shirt, the shield of his badge hooked on his leather belt. He
speaks quietly to the guy in the uniform for a minute before moving his gaze
curiously to mine.
‘Miss
Parker!’ He calls over, his deep voice smooth, lazy and totally alluring.
I
walk towards him, and he signifies with a finger for me to move to the door to
the right of me, before disappearing behind the wall only to meet me at the other
side of the indicated door.
‘Miss
Parker,’ he holds out his hand, I place mine inside the warm, strong
grip. ‘I am so sorry for your loss,’ I squeeze his hand lightly, in
return, ignoring the drag of his penetrating gaze.
‘Thank
you,’ I pull my fingers from his hold and provide him a small smile.
‘Please,
come through,’ his eyes are intense as he leads me through to, what I presume,
is an interview room. To reach this room, we walk through an open planned
area that holds what looks like the entire Krystal police force. I feel a thousand
pairs of eyes directed towards me as I follow the cute backside of what I
presume is Detective Austin.
‘I’m
sorry for your wait,’ he opens the door for me to walk through, which I
do. ‘Please, take a seat,’ he steps up to the small table, which has two
chairs either side. I sit one side, and he sits the other. The room
has a stench that reminds me of a school gym, whether it’s bodily fluids or
staleness of the windowless room, I can’t be sure.
‘Thank
you,’ I sit, back ramrod straight, my bag and jacket grasped tightly in my hold
on my lap.
‘I’m
Detective Austin,’ he begins, his glance directed to mine. ‘I am in
charge of your brother’s case.’
‘His
murder,’ I interrupt.
He
looks surprised,
his eyebrow arches, ‘say what?’
‘I
would prefer it, Mr. Austin if you didn’t refer to my brother’s untimely death
as
a case!
’ I remark, snootily. ‘He was a human being, with a life ahead
of him, someone robbed him of the opportunity to live that life. I would
like to know why that happened.’
‘I’m
sorry, I didn’t intend to offend you, Miss Parker,’ although he looks anything
but contrite. ‘I assure you, we are all as keen as you are to establish
the circumstances that have led to your brother’s homicide.’
‘What
do you have so far?’ I ask.
He
regards me silently for a beat, ‘what do you know about your brother’s life,
Miss Parker?’
I
shrug, ‘day to day, not a lot,’ I admit. ‘I know he came to Krystal to
change the direction of his life.’
‘Change
the direction?’ He questions, ‘what path was he originally on, do you know?’
‘Not
really, well except he was working for our father in Boston. He wanted to
become a hairdresser, dad disagreed with his career choice, thinks a man should
thump his fists on his chest and swing through the trees of the Amazon. He cut
off all financial aid to force the issue. Oliver defied him, regardless, and
left Boston to start a new life here.’
‘Why
here?’ He frowns. ‘Do you have family here?’ He glances down at the
paperwork in front of him.
‘No
idea, our father was from New York, originally, the majority of our extended
family are around the east coast, I believe. None in Denver.’
‘Your
mother, she’s from England?’ He checks, scribbling down some notes.
‘Yes,
although she’s deceased,’ I add.
‘I’m
sorry to hear that,’ he regards me through his gorgeous long lashes. ‘You half
siblings?’ he regards me intently. My body alerts to the intensity of his gaze,
fuck he’s hot.
‘No,
why?’ his enquiry startles me.
‘Because
you have an English accent, from what I know Oliver was all American,’ he comments.
‘That’s
complicated,’ I announce, I am not getting into the dysfunctions of my fucked
up family.
‘How
so?’ He continues.
‘What?’
I frown.
‘Why
complicated?’ He presses, leaning back casually in the small hard chair.
‘That’s
personal information,’ I sit up straighter, not prepared to elaborate.
‘Miss
Parker,’ he places his pen on the folder in front of him, his impatience
evident, my gaze draws to his perfect fingers, knowing for sure he would know
how to use them to pleasure a woman. The guy is undeniably hot, probably
has a harem of women on the go, no wedding band. In different
circumstances, I may have made a play for him, to sample the delights.
Right now, I can barely keep things together as it is, without the added
complication of a man.
‘We
need to gather as much information as we possibly can to ascertain the details
of what happened to your brother, what seems like personal to you, could be a
vital part of the puzzle that solves the mystery of his death.’
I
stare him down, ignoring his spill. He watches this for a beat before his
lips begin to twitch, which only serves to make me madder.
‘My
family history has no relevance,’ I refuse to turn away from his somewhat
amused gaze.
He
shakes his head so slightly I could have imagined it, ‘okay, let’s move things along.’
‘From
the information you have so far, do you have any idea of why someone would want
to shoot my brother?’ I ask, bluntly. Who would want to stick a bullet in
the head of a standard guy just trying to work his way to a better life? Point
blank range, I was told on the phone. A shudder runs through me at the
knowledge he didn’t stand a chance.
His
eyes fail to miss the tremble and soften for a second before he continues, ‘we
have a few leads that we are currently following,’ he responds vaguely. ‘It
seems your brother formed a few unlikely friendships that we are currently
investigating. Do you know the circles he mixed in?’ His eyes assess me,
suspiciously.
‘No,’
I shake my head regretfully. ‘Ollie and my relationship relied mainly on
the internet,’ I admitted. ‘He visited me in London last summer, but
apart from what he told me on our weekly video calls, I know nothing about his
life, first hand. I was planning on visiting this summer, for a month, to
meet his friends and get to know him better,’ I confide, sadly.
‘I’m
sorry,’ I glance up to see the sincerity in his empathy. ‘I have a brother too,
I would be equally pissed, not to mention upset, in your situation.’ I nod, my
gaze returning to his long fingers, now fiddling with the pen on the table
between us.
‘You okay?’ He asks, softly.
I
snap out of my daze, ‘yes, thank you,’ I need to eat, I feel faint with
hunger. ‘If that’s all, I need to go,’ I stand to leave, but the
Detective remains seated his gaze pensive as he stares up at me.
‘You
are staying at Marnie’s, I hear,’ his bright eyes move lazily over my facial features.
‘Yeah,
until it’s okay to get into Ollie’s,’ I turn towards the door.
‘You
staying?’ He questions, randomly.
‘Staying?’
I repeat, dumbly.
‘In
Krystal,’ he stands to his full height, meaning I have to tilt my head up to reply
to him.
‘Just
until I know what happened, resolve it in my mind,’ I share. ‘Something doesn’t
sit right with me, a normal guy working a normal job, somehow two and two
equals five,’ I shrug my shoulders.
His
lip tilts slightly to one side, a small indent of a dimple flashing for a
quarter of a second. ‘What do you do?’
‘Do?’
His eyes send me giddy, but I mentally shake myself, I am here because my
brother was killed.
‘Yeah,
you know, how you pay your bills and shit! It seems you have a knack for
investigating,’ he teases.
‘Nothing
as exciting as that, I’m afraid, Mr. Austin.’ I stride to the door aware of his
proximity.
‘Nate,’
he mumbles.
‘Sorry?’
I probe, my hand on the door handle.
‘My
name, Nate,’ he hands me a card that has his contact details. ‘Any
problems, you call day or night. You should be able to get into Ollie’s place
by the end of play Friday. You hear anything that has you thinking or worried that’s
where you call.’ He points to the card in my fingers.
‘Okay,
thank you.’ I step into the corridor.
‘Does
that mean I get to use your first name?’ he falls into step beside me.
‘You
can call me, Miss Parker,’ I call back haughtily. I hear a chuckle as I make
my way out of the pit of alpha males.
********
When
I walk into Ellie’s, it is obvious she has been expecting me. The dark
haired, blue eyed beauty, smiles as I enter the diner.
‘Hey,
sit where you like,’ she calls over from behind the counter.
‘Thank
you,’ I all but collapse from hunger as I slide into the booth that sits against
the front windows, which will permit me to observe the comings and goings of
the town.
‘You
Sophie?’ She checks, from beside me.
‘Yeah,’
I smile, ‘Marnie?’
‘Marnie,’
she grins. ‘I’m Ellie. Marnie gave me firm instructions to feed you
up. How about some good old American pancakes, eggs, bacon?’ She tempts.
My
mouth is watering, ‘that sounds like heaven,’ I sigh, ‘thank you, Ellie.’
‘No
problem, babe. Sorry about Ollie,’ she watches me carefully as she passes
on her condolences. ‘There’s no doubting your DNA, you look just like him,’ she
responds warmly. Ollie and I shared the same colour hair and eyes, from
Mum.
‘Thank
you,’ I whisper, my voice trembling. ‘You knew him?’
‘Came
in most days,’ she nods, ‘good man behind all the hurt,’ she comments, her gaze
pensive.
‘The
hurt?’ my attention is piqued.
She
brightens, ‘sorry I tend to speak without engaging my brain,’ she rolls her
eyes.
‘Ellie,’
I call, ‘please, if you can give me any information on Ollie, I would truly
appreciate it!’
She
looks uneasy, ‘it’s just, he always seemed to have the world on his shoulders,
you know?’ She explains, ‘I’ll get your food,’ she smiles gently before turning
to the kitchen.
I
sit running things over and over in my mind, trying to remember our recent conversations,
recalling whether Ollie ever hinted at there being a problem, serious or
otherwise, that could have led us being where we are now. I come up with nothing
if he had indeed had an issue, he kept it from me. Someone must know
something, where are all his friends he spoke about, I wonder? I
know he had a friend and colleague that worked with him in the salon, someone
called Simon. Where is he now?
Ellie
lays down a plate before me, a huge oval plate that held a mountain of
scrambled eggs, maple bacon, pancakes and a jug of maple syrup.
‘Oh,
my!’ I gasp, as I take in the mountain of food in front of me.
‘Coffee?’
Ellie grins.
‘Could
I be a total cliché and have tea?’ I wince, everyone knew us Brits loved a
cuppa!
Ellie
giggles, ‘sure, Hun!’
‘Ellie,
do you know Simon, who worked with Ollie?’ I query, while I have her attention.
Her
lips tighten slightly, ‘he’s disappeared off the face of the earth,
apparently,’ she arches an eyebrow. ‘The cops are trying to get a hold on his
whereabouts, so I hear.’
‘You
knew him too?’ I question.
‘Yeah,
Sophie.’ She provides me a look of confusion. ‘Everyone knows everyone in
Krystal, did Ollie not notify you of that?’ I shake my head, which amuses her
somewhat, ‘good luck with that girl, if you think for one second the entire
town hasn’t been informed of your arrival, believe it when I tell you, everyone
in Krystal knows of your arrival.’
‘Was
he and Ollie, close?’ I ask, ignoring the clenching of my stomach at the
prospect of everyone staring, knowing what brought me to Krystal.
‘Unfortunately,
yeah,’ she walks behind the counter and collects a cup and saucer, pours some
boiling water from the drum kettle in a small stainless steel teapot and picks
up a couple of English Breakfast Tea bags. I pick up a piece of bacon and
hum as I chew on it, savouring its maple taste.
‘He
wasn’t a good fit for Ollie,’ she admits as she places the tea on the table
beside me.
‘A
good fit?’ I repeat, not understanding her meaning.
The
door swings open, and we are interrupted as my attention is taken by Detective
Austin, accompanied by another man of equal size and hotness, only this one was
a dirty blonde haired beauty.
Ellie
turns, ‘Hey boys!’ she greets them brightly. ‘Enjoy your meal, Sophie,’
she smiles as she makes for the direction of the doorway.
‘Hey
gorgeous,’ the blonde grabs Ellie around the waist and pulls her to him. Wrapping
her arms around his neck, she pushes provocatively against him.
‘Hey,
baby,’ Ellie coo’s sweetly. ‘I wondered when I was going to get my fix,’
she purrs up into his sparkling green eyes and you can almost taste the desire
that flares between them.
‘Hey!’
Detective Austin lifts his chin over to me from a stool set against the
counter.
‘Hello,’
I mumble, avoiding his penetrating blue gaze.
‘Hungry?’
he continues, his eyes moving with amusement to the huge pile of food on my
plate.
‘Yep!’
I affirm, refusing to be drawn into conversation with him. Fuck if I
don’t just want to eat in peace. I lift a forkful of egg to my mouth, and
chew it deliciously. I glance up to see him smile to himself as he helps
himself to coffee from the pot set on a warmer on the counter. ‘El, I’m
starving over here,’ he calls to Ellie.
‘Patience,
brother!’ she scolds him, playfully. She’s his sister! Leaning up on her toes,
she plants another kiss on the lips of the surfer blonde before turning to the
kitchen. ‘What you boys, fancy?’
I
plough through the mound of food as I listen to the easy banter of Ellie and
the two men. Now they are together the resemblance is clear. The
semblance that Ollie and I once shared, suddenly my appetite diminishes, and I
am no longer hungry as my gut tightens in loss. I gaze out of the window
and sip my tea, zoning out of the activities of the diner.
‘You
okay, Sophie?’ Ellie’s voice penetrates my preoccupation.
‘Sorry,
yes, I was miles away,’ I mumble, apologetically.
‘I
was calling you,’ she announces, ‘do you need anything else?’
‘No,
I’m good Ellie, thank you. I’ll take the check, please,’ my gaze moves to
the counter where the boys are finishing their sandwiches and coffee.
‘No
need, this one’s on me. Welcome to Krystal,’ she insists.
‘Oh
no, I couldn’t, please,’ I frown, the woman hardly knows me, why would she give
me a free meal?
‘You
will soon get that there are pro’s, as well as con’s to the small town, babe.
Next one is on you,’ she smiles. ‘You fancy hitting the bar tonight?’ She
asks, ‘do you good to meet some of the locals.’
My
stomach warms unexpectedly at her kind gesture, ‘I’m going to sleep off a bit
more jet lag, tonight. But I appreciate the offer, Ellie,’ I throw a
hefty tip on the table and grab my belongings, ‘maybe another time?’
‘Sure,
tomorrow night is Karaoke?’ She tempts. ‘Me and my girls will be there,
swing by and meet them all. Jessie’s bar on the main drag.’
‘Okay,
I’ll pop by for a bit,’ I promise, ‘but I don’t do Karaoke,’ I warn her.
Maybe I should talk to a few of the locals and find out more about Ollie and
his life in Krystal. ‘What time do things warm up?’
‘I’ll
be there from seven, I have a curfew to meet if I want to open up this place
the following morning, but things go on into the early hours,’ she waves a hand
flippantly.
As
I walk past the counter, a pair of incredible blue eyes burn into me, ‘See you,
London!’ he calls, quietly.
‘Detective
Austin,’ I respond smoothly, as I exit the diner, my heart pitter-pattering at
the intensity of his gaze. Fuck, he is hot!
‘Tomorrow,
Sophie!’ Ellie shouts out.
‘Tomorrow!’
I wave my hand in her direction.
********
I
wake at four a.m. and when I say wake, I mean there is not an ounce of sleep
left in me, and I am laying frustrated in the darkness. I had submitted
to tiredness and flopped into bed at eight thirty last night. Now,
I see that was a huge mistake.
Deciding
to make the most of the time, I turn the light on and call through to Charley,
in the London salon, who is, unfortunately, busy with a client. I chat
for a while with Lulu, who is one of the stylists and ask her to get Charley to
call me when she gets a moment.
Leaving
Charley in charge of my salon in Battersea Park was incredibly hard for me.
She is more than competent, I wouldn’t have done it otherwise, but to hand over
what is essentially, my baby, is doing something that feels alien to me. Trust.
I find it incredibly hard to trust, especially with something as important to
me as my business.
It
had taken me six years to build up the remarkable clientele that I currently
have, business was booming, to the point of extending the shop into next door’s
space when it became available. I took out a huge loan to renovate,
which, due to the success of the beauty therapy section, is almost repaid.
Beauty was something that I decided to branch out into on first opening, a way
to broaden my knowledge and clientele.
Initially,
I swore I would never touch the allowance from my father, as far as I was
concerned, it was guilt money. I reasoned that somewhere buried deep in
his cold heart he must have experienced some degree of guilt for abandoning me
as a newborn baby, with my maternal grandmother. An hour after my mum’s
funeral, he sent me back to live in London with my mother’s family. The
worst of it was that he chose to keep my brother, who was only five years old
at the time, with him in New York.
He
justified his decision to split up the family by expressing to my grandma that
he couldn’t contend with a newborn baby alone, not to mention a female
one. Apparently, from what my Aunt Marie told me, he made it seem like he
was doing my grandma a favour by leaving me in her capable hands. It
would take the edge off of the grief of losing her daughter, he told her.
That’s
all I ever felt I was there for, to make everyone else feel better. I
couldn’t grieve for someone I didn’t know, even if it was my mum. How the hell
could I? My whole childhood I was weighed down with suppression. I
couldn’t be me, I had to be the perfect granddaughter and, along with everyone
else, keep my mum on a pedal stool.
My
grandma did her best to raise me, and on a lot of levels she succeeded, but
there was always that feeling that I was replacing my mum, who died while
giving birth to me. I can’t say I wasn’t loved, I was. But, I was brought
up amongst the unspoken grief of a family who lost their daughter and
sister. No matter how hard they tried, I knew I would never be enough to
replace her.
As
for my relationship with my brother, it never stood a chance. We both
knew we had a sibling, but Oliver wasn’t permitted to visit me in London, and I
wasn’t invited to America to see either my father or Ollie. It wasn’t until
four years ago that we finally managed to connect and decided to build a
relationship between us.
Both
Oliver and I inherited our looks from my mum, me even more so, which for me was
a curse. I knew that every time my grandma and grandad looked at me, sadness
filled their gaze. I wanted for nothing, materially, but emotionally I
had profound issues.
I
never felt good enough, I always felt as if I was to blame for my mother’s
death. The fact was, if I hadn’t been born, she would still be alive. When I
looked into the eyes of her family, I saw the same deliberations within the
measured depths of their gaze.
When
I finished school, I took an apprenticeship for hairdressing, initially to
please mum’s family, as mum had also been a hairdresser. Although it started
off as doing what was expected of me, I had to admit that I genuinely loved to
play around with hair and was glad that I followed the career path that I did,
for whatever reason. To witness the delight in my grandma’s eyes when I
notified her I was going to follow in her beloved daughter’s footsteps, was an
added bonus.
When
I qualified, I took a junior position within a salon on the Kings Road,
Chelsea, where I met Steve Bond, a guy who shaped my future without even being
aware. He was a stern man, but I watched avidly and absorbed the way he
created art within his work and had an incredible way with people, which I
adopted as my own. He had high aspirations in life, leaving me also
wanting to reach for the sky.
Steve
ended up owning a chain of salons across London. When I stood by and
observed him achieve all he dreamed of, I withdrew the guilt money that my
father had been paying into a bank account for me, since birth, and bought my
first salon in Battersea Park.
I
needed to succeed for me. I needed to do something to prove to myself that I
was more than an inadequate replacement for a woman that no one could
fault. Do I wish I had her in my life? Absolutely, but that was never to
be, and I couldn’t miss what I never had.
After
chatting to Lulu, I call Shauna to catch up on her world and update her on my
arrival to Krystal. She seems assured that I have found a friend in
Ellie, although something stops me mentioning Detective Austin and his intense
sapphire eyes. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t be happy for me, she would of course,
but I felt an immense amount of shame for even noticing his gorgeousness while
my brother’s body was still warm on a slab.