31
Two women ran past us, one crying and the other attempting to console her, but both were visibly shaken by whatever they’d seen. Santino pulled me to my feet as a small group gathered near the shoreline several yards ahead.
“What do you think is going on?”
He shook his head and held my hand. “Nothing good.”
Had the commotion broken out anywhere else, we would have minded our business and kept moving, but this was practically Illusion’s backyard. What had rattled these people to screams and tears certainly seemed worth investigating.
The closer we got, the louder the cries and unintelligible chatter. A group of young men had pulled out their phones, some snapping pictures while others recorded or live-streamed.
“Santino,” I gasped when I saw a bloody foot with ashen skin still attached to a six-inch heel.
I slipped from his hold and ran toward the body, a sinking feeling churning in the pit of my stomach.
“Amara, wait!”
Santino took off after me, but I was already halfway through the crowd, pushing them out of the way. I stopped cold when I stumbled to the center and found myself staring into the lifeless eyes of a familiar face.
“It’s Star,” I breathed out as he threw an arm around my waist and tucked me to his side. “Who could have done this?”
Star and I had never been particularly close, but not for her lack of trying. I was just never interested in that most often fake camaraderie that came with working this type of job. They all shared a dressing room, while I had my own. I figured I’d save myself the trouble of petty differences and envy for what they deemed special treatment.
“Come on.” He tugged me through the growing crowd, his eyes scanning our surroundings. “We don’t know who’s watching.”
Sirens could already be heard in the distance as we made our way back inside the club.
“Should we tell the others?”
“Not yet. Cops will be here soon enough, asking questions and permission to view surveillance footage.”
When we crossed the threshold into his office, he locked it and motioned for me to take a seat while he zoomed to camera angle twelve.
As he combed through the footage, I caught a glance of us in the water, and despite the tragic situation with Star, I couldn’t help smiling. Santino’s eyes fixed on me briefly, and I knew he felt the same spark, as inappropriate as it was.
“There!” I said, jumping to my feet and pointing at a dark figure who looked to be dragging a half-conscious Star. “She was alive just an hour before we walked onto the beach.”
The image was too far to make out faces or her exact cause of death, but from what I saw on the scene, it looked like she had a neck laceration and several puncture wounds to the chest.
“Star never showed up to work today,” he said, panning to the parking lot to her usual spot. “Dumping her body on this beach was deliberate. Someone is sending us a message.”
“Luca,” we said in unison.
“I’m going to pay him a visit. But maybe you should lay low, preziosa . Stay home. I can have Blaise keep an eye on your place. Or—” He rounded his desk and pulled me against his chest. “Come with me.”
The thought of going home to Santino was terrifying and tempting in all the best ways, but I was tired of hiding, least of all from Luca.
My phone vibrated inside my bag, and as if the universe had heard my wishes, the text message on my screen couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Is there any way your private jet can pick us up sooner than next week?”
His eyes creased curiously. “I told you just say the word.”
“Good. Because we leave for Philly tomorrow at noon.”
Santino nodded once and gripped my wet shirt when I tried to slip away. “Where do you think you’re off to?”
“Change of plans means I have to go home, pack, and drop Phoenix off at Cambri’s.”
He tilted my chin and kissed me. “Then come back to my place tonight.”
“We almost had sex on the beach, Santi. If I do that, I’m afraid I won’t want to leave in the morning,” I said as I wiped sand from his cheek.
His protest died on his lips at the sound of a knock at his office door. We both whipped around to the camera feed of a man in a blazer, his eyes trained directly on the camera.
“Detective Braga.”
Santino moved toward the door. “And the coincidences never cease.”
My neighbor’s eyes betrayed his poker face when the door swung open, and they landed on me, then Santino.
“Amara.”
“Detective.” Santino stepped between us. “Amara was just leaving. I assume you’re here about what happened on the beach.”
His gaze swept our wet clothes and sand-dusted bodies. “Before you leave,” he said, ignoring Santino and peering around his shoulder. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“That won’t be necessary. I can give my statement, and that should suffice.”
“That’s not how this works, Mr. Leone. We may be in your establishment, but being that our victim was an alleged employee of yours and her body was dumped near the property, we must interview all possible witnesses.”
“We saw nothing.”
“That may well be the truth”—he glanced at our disheveled appearances again—“but I must follow protocol. In any case, Miss Carvalho can speak for herself.”
“Of course, I can,” I said, touching Santino’s arm, hoping to ease the tension I felt coiling beneath the surface.
Raymond already had his suspicions where Santino was concerned. It was best to comply and stay off his radar.
Cambri threw her good arm around me the moment she opened the door. The swelling in her face had resolved, and her bruises were still visible, but instead of purple and black, they were yellow and in the final stages of healing.
“How much longer do you have with this?” I asked, pointing to her cast and running a finger where I’d signed my name with a heart.
“Two fucking weeks.”
I placed Phoenix’s crate on the floor and let him loose. “Almost there.”
“Yeah. I’m going stir-crazy.”
Guilt flared inside me. I hadn’t been by nearly enough to see her or help out. That would change when I got back, I promised myself.
“I won’t be in Philadelphia as long as I originally planned. We can have slumber parties when I return.”
Cambri laughed and hauled me to the sofa. “Sounds fun, but unlike me, you still have work.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I don’t.”
Her dark eyes narrowed in confusion. “Elaborate. You quit or something?”
“No, but I won’t be dancing anymore.”
Cambri hadn’t said a word for a good minute after I explained everything that happened between me and Santino. I finally got tired of waiting for a response and shook her back to life by the shoulders.
“Say something. When have you ever been speechless?”
“Not until now,” she said, shaking her head and blinking three times as she flung herself into my arms. “Amara! I’m so mad at you for keeping this from me, but I’m also so fucking happy for you, babe.”
“It’s only been a few days. I’m still processing it all myself.”
“Bullshit! You should have texted me the second it happened.”
I chuckled, surprised by the strength in her one-armed hug.
“Are you okay?” she asked, an easy smile on her lips.
“I am.”
It was my turn to pull her to my chest. Until a few days ago, Cambri was the only other soul who knew what I’d been through. The only one who understood my pain and the reasons why I did what I did. She was my best friend.
My angel.
“Amara, I want all the details.”
Taking her hands in mine, I sighed, my smile fading with the news still left to share. Her forehead creased. “Cam, I have something else to tell you, but it’s not good.”
“What is it?” She squeezed my fingers, bracing herself.
“Star was murdered today.”
Cambri’s eyes popped as she gasped. The two weren’t the closest of friends, but they’d worked together for years before Illusion.
Again, she was lost for words, shocked by her colleague's death.
“Santino and I think Luca might be behind this.”
Tears sprung to her eyes, and I tugged her toward me, placing her head in my lap as I combed my fingers through her hair.