F-BOMB: Curvy Vigilantes 3: Feign
Autore
Mary E Thompson
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Chapter 1
Karli
Karli Sloane knew the minute someone broke into her apartment. It was a feeling, like she was being watched, but deeper, like someone whispered she wasn’t safe.
She was in her bedroom, taking off her jewelry after a quick trip out. Her best friend was coming over to share the dirty details of her first date with the guy she’d been lusting over forever. But whoever was in Karli’s apartment was definitely not Jessica. Or Karli’s roommate, Raina. It was someone else—someone who was trying not to be heard.
Karli tiptoed to her bedroom door and peeked through the crack. She sucked in a silent breath. The woman could have been her twin—especially at first glance. Same natural, shoulder-length dark curls. Same brown skin. Same full lips and wide nose. Even the woman’s clothes were things Karli could have seen herself wearing.
For all her similarities, Karli had no idea who the woman was. She definitely would have recognized her if they’d met before, which brought back the question of why the hell she was in Karli’s apartment and sneaking around like she was looking for something.
Stay or go? Fight or flee? Karli debated with herself for a few seconds as panic overwhelmed her and the need to run away consumed her. Then the woman walked into the kitchen, where Karli couldn’t see her.
Adrenaline pumped in her veins, but not the good kind that made you fearless and fight. It was the bad kind that made Karli want to vomit and cry—the kind of adrenaline that would have her in a puddle if the woman discovered her.
Karli had to get the hell out of there. Now.
The fire escape outside her window was the only option. She didn’t know why the woman was there, but Karli would get out and find a way to call the police.
She crept to the window and eased it open. Thankfully, she used it enough that it slid quietly. When she had just enough space to fit through, Karli squeezed her body out and closed the window so the woman wouldn’t realize Karli had left.
She resisted the urge to race down the fire escape, knowing the metal stairs would be loud and draw attention. She was just out for a casual stroll down the fire escape. In the fall. No big deal. There wasn’t any reason to be freaking out.
Besides the woman in her apartment.
Karli finally reached the ground and let out a heavy sigh of relief. She didn’t want Jessica or Raina to arrive and encounter the woman, but her phone and purse were by the front door, and she had no way of letting her friends know what was going on. If she was lucky, she would catch them outside the building.
And if she wasn’t, she’d catch the woman who broke into her apartment.
Karli leaned against the brick exterior near the front of the building. She tried to blend in and look like she was waiting for someone. Her adrenaline was sky-high, pulsing through her system and making her hyperaware of everything around her. The smell of exhaust when a truck went down the street. The blast of a horn when someone was cut off. The rumble of an engine, voices shouting, food from the burger place a block away.
It all yanked her attention, making it impossible to focus on one thing. She did her best until she heard a siren.
It came closer, the rhythmic whoop echoing louder and louder until she saw the lights. Red and blue flashing, synchronized to the sounds. It was enough to make Karli take a step away from the door.
The cops ignored Karli and everyone else on the street and rushed inside. An ambulance pulled up a minute later. The paramedics didn’t rush.
Karli watched the scene with a strange sense of detachment—like she was witnessing it through a TV screen or someone else’s eyes. She was numb, her fear making it hard for her to understand what was going on. Not that she knew what was going on. Someone else must have seen the woman and called the police.
“What happened?” someone asked a police officer as they walked out of the building.
“A woman was killed,” the cop said. “We have to lockdown the building. Do you live here?”
The officer came toward the man who asked what happened. His hand rested on his hip—like he was getting ready to draw a weapon.
Karli backed away slowly so they didn’t notice her. The officer and the man on the street talked. When Karli made it to the corner, she turned it and took off.
She didn’t know where to go. Her purse with her phone and wallet was inside the apartment. She had no way of reaching out to anyone. She didn’t know what happened in the building and really didn’t want to become a suspect for anything—especially not for murder.
Niagara Falls wasn’t the most walkable city, but it was okay. All she had to do was lie low for an hour or two, and then she could go back home. She didn’t have another option.
* * *
“Art therapist, Karli Sloane, was murdered in her apartment earlier today. The police are looking for Jessica German for questioning. Ms. German was seen fleeing the apartment building where Ms. Sloane’s body was found. I’m going to warn you—the picture you’re going to see might be hard to handle.”
Karli wanted to laugh when she heard the news report two hours after she left her apartment. For one thing, she was obviously not dead. For another, who in the world would ever think Jessica had anything to do with anyone’s murder?
Karli rolled her eyes as she looked up at the screen—and saw her best friend covered in blood.
The news report clicked in her head. Jessica was wanted for questioning. The police thought Karli was dead. But someone was dead. And if Karli had to guess, it was the woman who’d been in her apartment—the one who looked like her. The one she fled because of.
She hated that she wondered, for a second, if Jessica could have had anything to do with it. She dismissed the idea as soon as she had it, but it lingered in the depth of her mind.
Karli wasn’t safe. Whether Jessica had anything to do with killing that woman or not, Karli wasn’t safe. She couldn’t go back to her apartment. She couldn’t go to Jessica. Raina could be in danger, but Karli didn’t know how to contact her. Raina was smart, though. Raina would find a safe place. Karli just wished she knew of one.
Karli left the convenience store and walked toward the park a few blocks away. She’d always found the outdoors refreshing and invigorating. She had no intention of sleeping there, but for an hour, she could hang around.
She walked through the park and tried to figure out what was going on. Someone broke into her apartment, then was killed. She wasn’t sure if she was more worried about the woman who broke in or the fact that someone killed her, but either way, Karli knew she wasn’t safe. She was in danger. She had to find somewhere to hide.
After she left her apartment, Karli wandered for a few hours. She tried to go back, but there were still police cars sitting outside, so she left again, pretending she was just walking by. No one paid her any attention. She’d considered asking if she could get into her apartment, but it would have meant explaining where she lived and where she was when the woman was killed.
Now that Karli knew the police suspected it had been her, she was relieved she hadn’t spoken to them. But she still needed somewhere to go—a place to sleep—or at least shelter before the fall evening turned colder.
The evening air gave her a moment of clarity. If she could make her way to one of the big box stores that was open twenty-four seven, she could stay inside and be safe. There were cameras in those stores, which meant someone would see if she was attacked. And she would be warm.
The walk there made Karli tense. She hadn’t walked so much in years. She was grateful she hadn’t kicked off her shoes when she walked into her apartment. She didn’t have money or a phone, but she had sneakers.
Inside the store, the bright lights and colorful displays were almost too much. But it was warm and safe, and Karli knew it was her best option. She just had to pretend to be a customer and not give anyone any reason to be suspicious of her being there. Simple. Right?
* * *
Cade Murray hung up the phone and squeezed it tight. He wanted to throw it across the room, but he couldn’t afford to buy another phone this month.
He knew something was wrong. His one and only client wasn’t answering his calls. She hadn’t since he told her he found someone who might know something about where her cousin was.
Why did he tell her?
Cade kicked himself for revealing the information. He was smarter than that. Well, he thought he was. Who the hell knew anymore? Cade also thought he was smarter than to get attached to a woman who would sleep with someone else, but he was wrong about that, too.
But this time, it was costing him what little future he had left as a private investigator. When Tonya Warren came to him and said her cousin had gone missing and she thought something had happened, Cade told her he wasn’t interested. The last case he worked on blew up in his face in the most epic of ways, and he had become a laughingstock. He wasn’t looking to take on a missing person case the police said wasn’t worth investigating.
Tonya didn’t show up without proof, though. She had phone records and emails and financial documents that made it hard to believe anything other than her cousin was in serious trouble. And that one of the city’s most notorious and invisible men was behind it.
Cade agreed to take the case, with a hefty retainer up front, and a contract for even more once he found Tonya’s cousin, Edie. Tonya was happy to pay, but the second he shared information with her, she disappeared on him and stopped returning his calls.
Last time he trusted a woman.
It had been forty-eight hours since he’d spoken to Tonya. His research uncovered the name of a woman who used to be involved with Damon Street, the man Cade believed was responsible for Edie’s disappearance. Tonya pushed him to reveal who the woman was. Cade wanted to do a little more digging into Raina London, confirm what he thought, and then talk to her. But Tonya was impatient. She said she just wanted to know the woman’s name. Said she wondered if Edie had ever mentioned her.
Cade told her what he knew and what he suspected. It wasn’t much, but anyone who used to be connected to a man like Damon Street and got out was someone Cade wanted to talk to.
Damon Street was notorious for being a ghost. The police had never arrested him. There were no pictures of the man. He was a legend, one Cade wasn’t even sure was real. But if there was a chance, and Cade took him down, he would go from worst to first for private investigators in the area. No more mockery about not being able to see what was right in front of his face. He would be a legend himself.
But first he had to find out where the hell his client was.
Cade stuffed the file he had on Raina London into his bag with his computer and charger. It was going to be a long night, but before he could head home, he needed to find Tonya.
The motel Tonya was staying in was not the best place in the city. It was cheap, and it was clean, but it was old and small and had zero security—which worked to Cade’s advantage when he was able to go straight to Tonya’s room instead of speaking to someone at the desk.
He parked near the staircase at the back of the parking lot, closest to Tonya’s room. He glanced around before he took the stairs up. He knocked on her door, but there was no answer. He pressed his ear to the door. Nothing.
He glanced around again. He didn’t see anyone around, so he dug out his lock-picking set. Tonya could be hurt. He justified his actions that way, even as he knew he could get into a lot of trouble for what he was doing.
A few seconds later, the cheap lock snicked open. Cade let himself in and closed the door behind him. He pocketed his kit and scanned the room quickly.
The bed was made, neat and tidy like it had been done by housekeeping and not a guest. The door to the bathroom was wide open. The light was off, but the shower curtain was thrown back, showing him how empty the bathroom was. There was a closed closet near the bathroom. Even though there was no way to surprise someone if they were hiding in it, Cade crept forward.
He yanked open the closet door and jumped back when the hangers swung at him. A small pile of clothes was on the floor in an open suitcase.
No, Tonya.
Cade took a deep breath and stopped. He was trained to see what other people wouldn’t notice. A dozen years in the Army, a degree in criminal justice, and close to seven years as a private investigator—Cade saw things differently.
Except when your girlfriend was fucking someone else.
Cade winced at the voice in his head. He sucked in a sharp breath and tried to push the thought away. Alanna was out of his life, but Tonya was not. And she was the one Cade needed to focus on.
The room looked like Tonya had just run out. Like she would be back at any minute. Her toothbrush was on the side of the sink, but it was dry. The shower had shampoo bottles in it, but again, it was dry. She had clothes in the dresser and a bottle of water on the nightstand. The entire place looked like nothing was out of the ordinary.
Which meant Tonya hadn’t left town. She was still hanging around. So why wasn’t she returning his calls?
Cade tried her phone again, but it went straight to voicemail like it had for two days. He looked around the room, wondering what he missed. He had to have missed something. But it all looked normal.
Which was never normal.
He decided to just wait for her. If Tonya ran out for something, she’d be back. Her purse was gone, but all her stuff was there. She’d be back. He knew it. He just had to wait.
* * *
Cade woke up to the sound of a car door slamming. An engine started. He looked around the motel room, but nothing had changed. Tonya wasn’t in the bed. None of her stuff was missing or moved. She hadn’t come back.
Could she have seen his car and decided to wait until he left? Or was something else going on?
Cade dragged himself out of the chair he made his bed overnight and wrote a quick note for Tonya to call him when she got back. He scribbled his number, even though she had it, just in case she lost her phone or something.
Then he left. He stopped by the welcome desk, but the man working there didn’t know anything about Tonya. He had no idea the last time she’d been at the motel or even when she checked in. He said she left a card on file and had the room for two more weeks.
Cade went back to his office. He ran a trace on her phone, but as expected, it was off. Next, he got into her financial reports. Nothing had been used in two days.
“What the hell?”
She got breakfast the morning after they spoke at a diner near the motel. Then nothing. No more food, no gas, nothing. She could have used cash, but he found it unlikely since she’d been paying with credit up to that point.
Where could she be?
Cade turned on the TV in his office, listening to the newscaster drone on and on about crap he didn’t care about. He was barely paying attention until he heard a report about a woman who was killed over the weekend.
He looked up at the screen and saw Tonya’s picture.
No. It wasn’t Tonya. She looked a lot like Tonya. And the newscaster called her Karli Sloane.
“Ms. Sloane was beloved by the kids she worked with. It seemed everyone adored her. To have her life cut short has shaken our community to the core.”
Cade stared at her. She looked like Tonya—remarkably. It was strange. There were differences between them if you looked closely enough, but at a glance, they could have been sisters.
“Ms. Sloane’s funeral will be tomorrow at noon. All the information is on our website.”
Cade didn’t know why he wanted to go to the woman’s funeral, but he knew he had to—if for no other reason than to distract himself from his own missing client.
Tonya had to be out there somewhere. And if a woman who looked just like her was killed, maybe she found Raina London, and maybe Raina London was still connected to Damon Street.
Cade had to find Tonya. Now.
