Chapter Three Bradley #2
I hurried outside, slid behind the wheel of my Genesis GV80, and turned onto the street in the club’s direction. It didn’t take me long to arrive.
“Mr. Longboard.” I joined him at the bar top. “Do you have something for me?”
“Nice to see you guys are taking things seriously enough to send two detectives.” I let his words sink in.
I wondered if Kennedy had come by after the game.
“Well, like I was telling the other detective, my bartender who was working the night of the second murder—” He grimaced. “Guess what his blood work showed.”
“Traces of something unknown. Yes, we know.” I held up the file.
“Yeah, poison.”
“That hasn’t been confirmed. I suppose it’s possible he could somehow have ingested something, and that same something could have been what killed the victim.” I decided to give him that much.
“I see.” He studied my face, and I knew he wanted this storm to be cleared up fast. “I heard a rumor the first woman had traces of it, too, right?”
I wasn’t about to give out any information on the case. I ignored him as I thought.
“Detective Stone, I get this is just a nightclub to you, but it’s my business, and when word gets out women are dying here—”
I finally looked up, and I saw him swallow. I knew that behind that expensive shirt, which no doubt cost half my salary, he was terrified of losing business.
“Where is the bartender now?”
“Resting at home, but he’s willing to help.”
“Call him.”
His face brightened. “I’ll make the call.” He whistled at a busboy to move as he whisked by him. I leaned into the bar and watched while the rest of the staff prepared the place before they opened for the night.
I snatched up one of the menus . . . My eye caught the beer ads on the side.
East Dog Brewery and Sea Foam Brew. I wondered who came up with the names.
I did recognize Sea Foam Brew. I’d never tried it, but I often noticed cases of it kicking around in the dressing room at the local college where I coached.
“They said you’d be here.” The captain waltzed into the room. I pushed off the counter and went to meet him. “Need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” I looked around at a few people who had stopped to look at us. “What about?”
“Not what, but who. I brought someone with me from the station.” His face twisted as he stepped back and indicated whom he referred to.
I saw him steal a quick glance at me as he ran a hand over his face.
I knew he would be unsure what my reaction would be as I took in the very fit brunette in tight jeans and a T-shirt with a flannel shirt wrapped around her waist. She stood with her back to me as she spoke to one of the bouncers. “Don’t kill me, Stone,” he breathed.
I stood frozen as I looked at her. I saw her shirt lift when she raised her hands to explain something to the bouncer, and my gaze slipped down her small curves to the bare skin that showed.
The guy smiled at her, and she tossed her head back and laughed as she put a camera back into a bag that was slung around her neck.
Her long, glossy brown hair tumbled around her midsection.
“Why would I kill . . .” My words faltered when she turned, and her dark eyes found mine.
So many things ran through me at once. The box I had tucked deep inside cracked open for a moment, but I shut it down fast. I knew she’d feel uneasy to see me again too.
It had been years. Her neck contracted, and she reached for the table next to her.
I hated that she was still unbelievably gorgeous.
It was as though time had stopped with her.
“Excuse me,” she whispered to the man and headed toward us, shooting daggers at Captain.
“I see no introductions are needed,” Captain said and gave a nervous chuckle. “Shit, guys, how long’s it been?”
“Twelve years,” we both said within a half beat of one another.
Captain’s eyes bugged out as he absorbed what we’d just said. “Well, nothing like ripping the Band-Aid off.”
“What are you doin’ here?” I sounded rude. I didn’t mean to be. I also couldn’t help but feel a little lighter at the sight of her.
“Saving your ass, apparently,” she fired back, and I smirked.
“I see nothing’s changed.”
“Fuck, I hope it has.” She sank onto the chair next to a table, and Captain joined us. “Robert here asked me to come.” I glanced at the captain, who nodded.
“Our hands are tied at every corner, Stone.” He explained what I already knew. “I need these murders solved. I’m getting zero help from above.”
“So you bring me on as the lead, and you want to play dirty?”
“The hell you say!” Bree snapped, and I fought a grin; she was just as feisty as the girl I once knew. “I know there’ve been some issues with the public not trusting cops. It’s not my problem some assholes ‘tarnish the badge,’ but I hardly think my being here means we play dirty.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I hated that she was right. A few bad cops, and we all got labeled as crooked.
“I just work the system a different way and get what needs to be done.” She stood defiantly and stared me down.
“Come on, you two. We’re all professionals here.
” Captain held a hand between us. “We’re also all friends.
At least we used to be. Stone, I got you lead on this case, but if one of the others got it, I’d be pulling the same card.
We need this case wrapped up.” He took a long breath to calm down.
“Surely, we can come to a level playing field and get this mess cleared up?”
“I wasn’t the one that ran,” I muttered and eyed Bree hard, and she sank back down onto the chair. I remembered that day very well. She just up and left without a word. It was the same day I asked Sherry to marry me.
“Could you blame me?”
Silence blanketed the room while years of pent-up hurt and damage from that long-ago day pricked at my core.
“If anything, Bree, you’ll bring fire to this PD.” Captain chuckled. “All right, well, here’s the cherry on top: Bree starts today, and you two will be working together.”
You could have bounced a ball off the tension as we swallowed that little tidbit.
“If anyone asks, you’re a consultant on this case, Bree. Stone brought you on,” he added and shot me a shit-eating smirk that faded fast as he took in my expressionless face. “Stone, get her up to speed.”
“Understood, Robert.” I used his name on purpose, and he looked at the two of us and let out a long puff of air as he clapped his hands together.
“Well, this is incredibly awkward. I’m leavin’.”
Once the door shut behind him, we both broke into big smiles at his reaction.
I tossed the menu back into its place, needing something to do. “That was fun.” I laughed.
“Yeah.” She tucked her long, wavy hair behind her ear. “Making Robert uncomfortable used to be our thing.” She gave that throaty chuckle I remembered, and it felt so good.
“Easy target.” I gathered my things, but her words about not being able to stay bothered me.
We could pretend it was all an act, but we were far from being okay together.
I still struggled with my decision to choose Sherry over trying things with Bree back then.
In spite of how close I’d been with Bree, I’d felt Sherry was who I needed after all the trauma I’d been through.
“Detective Stone.” Mr. Longboard hurried toward us, and I pulled my head out of my memories. “He’s on his way.” His gaze shifted to Bree. “Hello again, Detective Jaminson.”
“It’s not detective,” Bree said. “I’m a PI, and a consultant on this case. Hope my captain didn’t confuse you.” He shrugged. “Please call me Bree.” She turned her pearly whites on him, and I gave her a slit-eyed look.
Longboard whistled. “First name basis already.” He grinned at her. “Perhaps by the end of all this, we’ll do dinner.” I fought not to roll my eyes. The guy might be worried about his business, but it was clear he thought he had a way with the ladies.
“Well”—she checked her phone—“that depends on what you’ve got for me.”
Longboard turned his grin on me, but I glared back at him; I had no time for this. The bartender arrived, and I was glad we could focus on him instead. We settled onto barstools to wait.
“Hi.” I shook his hand to ease his nerves.
“I’m Detective Stone, and this is our consultant, Ms. Jaminson.
I know you gave a statement before at the hospital, but given what’s come to light, I was hoping you could walk me through your night and any interaction with the second victim, Maggie Deloitte. ”
“Nice to meet you both.” He pulled out a barstool and sat next to us. “I work the weekends—it’s the busiest time of the week. I got bumped pretty quickly to bar manager because of my BA in hospitality management.”
“How well did your quick promotion sit with your fellow workers?” Bree cut in.
He shrugged. “I didn’t get much time to make friends before they gave me the position. Probably for the best.” He paused. “If you think one of my staff members did this, you’re wrong.”
“Everyone’s a person of interest,” I reminded him. “Keep going.”
“My shift was like every other night. Nothing stood out. All the regulars were there. I wasn’t working the night the first girl, Shelly something, was killed.”
Bree opened the file she was holding and scanned staff photos. “Shelly White?” She made sure to confirm the name. “All right, so where was Maggie when you took her drink order?”
“Right there. She was standing close to that jar of olives.” He pointed at a large olive jar that sat on the bar top. “I’d just finished serving a guy who ordered five Stellas for his table.” He pointed at a table.
I noted that he used a lot of detail. “That’s a good memory.” His face twisted, and I could see I’d hit a nerve there. Interesting.