A Test of Love: Interracial Erotic Romance (Chasing Love) (19 page)

I swallowed down the sour taste in my mouth. “Let’s see the night that Yancy died.”

Troy frowned. “There isn’t anything. Chase said she was attacked. It happened outside of his building. Coincidentally, no cameras recorded the area where it occurred.”

“It’s funny how that coincidence came up in that moment.”

“Yep. Even stranger, all I have is this.” He press played on the video.

Dawn, Wendy, and Lucy lounged in the huge sitting from on the first level. Willow Park was massive, a mansion with five bedrooms. Gray bricks made up the big foundation. The property had originally been owned by the founder of Oshane City, a paranoid man who’d built all the apartments within the home and given each door a different lock. There were even secret escape routes all over the property. Chase’s apartment had a crooked stairwell that linked his closet to everyone else’s. According to the founder’s theory, whoever was trying to kill him would have to figure out which apartment he rested in that evening and somehow break in.
Looney
. That being said, Chase took advantage of the poor man’s madness. Every woman had her own apartment on the second floor. Chase lived like a king on the third, as if he just had to be on top, overseeing them all.

I bet that was Dawn’s idea. Not even Chase is that narcissistic. Or is he?

But the first level, Lucy explained, was where Chase and Dawn hosted events together. The rest of his girlfriends sat upstairs, hidden like good little women until they finished.

I guess they can hold emergency meetings downstairs too.

“What time are they coming?” Wendy chugged some of the brown liquid in her glass.

“Chase said he’ll let her know immediately that the date is canceled and that they should go to the house to discuss something with us.” Dawn twisted a gold pen between her fingers.

“I’m really nervous about this.” Lucy held a bushel of green stuff. “Why won’t you let me burn this?”

Dawn sighed. “Because every time you burn sage it just fills the whole place up with smoke and irritates my allergies. Stop being worried. Yancy’s bullying of you is over.”

Lucy still held on to the bushel. “I bet Chase won’t give her up.”

“He’s tired of her,” Wendy slurred. “We all are.”

Dawn took away Wendy’s glass. “Why don’t you stop drinking until after we all meet?”

Instead of bursting out with anger like I’d seen Wendy do with Chase, she nodded and set the glass on the table.

“Dawn’s got those chicks trained,” Troy said.

“All of them except the fourth girlfriends,” I added.

“Which is why they’re dead.”

“Definitely, but Dawn is too easy of a solution. She’s the ultimate bad guy. Wouldn’t she have made herself less suspicious?”

“Yeah.” He paused the screen. Dawn’s face froze on his laptop. Her lips were curved into a devilish smile. Troy leaned so close to the screen, until his nose was barely two inches away. “It’s not her.”

“Excuse me?”

“She doesn’t look like a killer. Every time I get a good pan on her face, I just can’t see it.”

Oh, please.

“What the hell is a killer supposed to look like?” I snorted.

“It’s hard to describe, but
you
should know. You walk around them all the time.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Chase, Benny, me, Sherman, Mike—”

I raised my hands. “Okay. Okay. I got it.”

“Think of what all those people I just said have.”

“Hard heads and overconfident swagger.”

“You’re not taking me serious, Jazz.”

I shrugged. “Clearly.”

“Dawn didn’t do it. It’s not in her eyes.”

“Okay. Let’s say that’s true, but she’s not completely innocent.” I considered how she’d given Chase the loaded gun that night when they witnessed Lucy getting raped on the beach. “She might’ve played a part. At least, it wasn’t Dawn’s hands that did the murders, but I bet she orchestrated them.”

Troy exhaled and sat back against the wall, shaking his head the whole time. “Maybe, but that’s too strategic. Dawn can’t act. Killers like the one murdering these girls, they perform. They would have to act normal. Dawn’s emotions are always all over her face. She hides nothing. Anytime she sees Chase with another female, you can see the hate and jealousy. Anytime she’s annoyed, I can guess what she’ll say and how she’ll say it, right before the words even leave her lips. She’s too much of a predictable bitch. Dawn looks and acts like the bad guy, but she can’t scheme like one, at least not a good one. If she did the murders, she would’ve already been caught.”

“So then it’s Lucy or Wendy?” I huffed.

It was his turn to shrug. “Or maybe it is Dawn.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m just stating the facts, sis.”

“No, you’re confusing the shit out of me.”

“You know what you should do, right?”

“Yes, I know. Leave Chase.”

“Yeah, but I got a feeling neither Chase nor this crazy bitch who shot you will leave you alone.” He scratched his head. Dread filled me. My nerves rattled. Beads of sweat appeared around my forehead. Troy checked my face and cursed under his breath as he embraced me in his huge arms. “I forgot you get anxiety attacks.”

My teeth chattered against themselves. “No. This isn’t anxiety. It’s just fear.”

“Just relax. Your big bro is on the case.” He released me and turned back on the video.

“Here, Lucy. Put this up for us.” Dawn handed over Wendy’s drink.

Like a dutiful servant, Lucy dropped her sage on the chair next to her and grabbed the glass. I focused on Wendy and Dawn, straining to hear their whispers.

“What the fuck?” Troy stopped the tape and stared at the screen.

Wendy and Dawn froze in midconversation. Dawn’s gaze remained on Wendy’s breasts. Wendy’s hands hung in the air in front of her. In the background, Lucy sniffed the glass behind her with an odd expression on her face.

“What’s weird about this picture?” Troy grinned.

“Um. . .I don’t get it.”

He rewound and played the last twenty seconds over again.

“Dawn and Wendy are flirting,” I said.

“Look at Lucy.” He pointed her way. “You see how she’s smelling that glass?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s crazy about that?”

“Man, I don’t know. Just tell me.”

“Lucy doesn’t drink, right?”

I thought back to when Lucy, Wendy, and even Viv hung out at Junior’s, one of my favorite bars in Oshane. We’d all done shots, though Lucy only one. She’d ended up vomiting in the back of the car.

“Yeah. Lucy doesn’t drink,” I admitted.

“Then why isn’t she twisting her face up or something. Wendy drinks this expensive brandy from this same sort of bottle every day. Once and a while, she rushes out to the store or somewhere and comes back with one.”

“That’s weird.”

“Yeah. Something is up with Lucy.”

“Or Wendy.” Something kept nagging at my brain. “Wendy is pretty lazy. Each woman has her own servant. Why would she go out to buy her own liquor? She could just have it ordered.”

“Maybe she’s going to meet someone.”

“Maybe.”

Troy played the video. Lucy sniffed it even more.
What do you smell?
Her face reddened. She tapped her pinky finger in the glass. Whatever she smelled freaked her out because she hurried out of there as if her life depended on it.

Chapter 18

TROY

We all sat in Chase’s dining area for brunch. It had been a late morning for everyone. By the time we all made it downstairs, it was close to twelve. Red wine rested in the center of the table. Any other time, I wouldn’t have started so early, but after seeing Wendy down a bunch of drinks in almost every piece of footage that I’d seen this morning, I was pretty thirsty for a drink. It was something about Lucy sniffing the glass that I couldn’t get out of my head.

What could a person smell in a glass to make them scared? Is Lucy really just crazy or is Wendy hiding something?

I poured a glass of red wine for myself right as Viv entered the room. Fluffy white clouds decorated her blue pajamas. She should’ve looked like crap with her hair in disarray and bunny slippers on her feet. She didn’t. An instant erection hit me. I’d yanked those pajama pants down many a morning and used my tongue on her flesh to tell her all the things I couldn’t.

She hadn’t said a word to me in a day and a half. Why would she? It was dumb and immature to run off like that, but what else could I do? The alternatives would be detrimental to the both of us. She had to realize that. Sex between us would be wicked and twisted and. . .so fucking good I could never stop fucking her. Not until someone actually carted both of our naked, humping bodies off to a mental hospital.

I can’t and she’s probably done with me anyway.

It was on her face as she pulled out her napkin and placed it on her thighs. Sorrow. It glazed over her eyes and gave them a dim glow when she sat down across from me.

“Good morning, everybody.” Her voice was hoarse like she’d been crying. One of the cooks came up to her and asked if she would like tea, to which she nodded. The other cook set plates in front of each of us, stacked with bread and some weird looking stuff on top.

Is that cheese?

Chase, Viv, and I directed our views to Jazz. I almost laughed. Back at home when I was a kid, I always checked what Jazz thought of the food first, before eating it myself. Although she loved strange stuff, her tongue knew when a meal worked and when it just didn’t. Jazz had ruined fast food spots for me. One of the times, I was out for a few months, and I went up to visit her at that snooty school she went to. She cut school that day and had us sneak off to McDonald’s where she bitched about the bad quality of practically everything in the meal and could not care less that she’d only spent a few dollars.

“It’s the principal of these things.” She slung her uneaten French fries and half bitten burger into the trash next to us. “This is simply a disrespect of food, and to try and sell this garbage to me is to say that I am stupid.”

“So McDonald’s thinks you’re stupid? I think I like this place even more.” I chomped down on my Big Mac. “Special sauce” lathered my lips.

Jazz made a show of dry heaving and then flung napkins at me. “Eww. And not only does this freaking satanic chain think I’m stupid, they think the world is dumb.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Next time give me your fries before you throw them away.”

“This is the last time I walk into this place.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “My body is a temple. If I’m going to tear it down with a burger, it will be dripping with the best salted blue cheese money can buy, stacked with greasy peppercorn bacon, placed between two slices of ciabatta bread, and served with some sort of honey dipping sauce.”

“That’s too much stuff. It sounds nasty.”

“That’s because you’re a hater.”

“You’re one to talk.” I finished my sandwich and reached for the other one. “You still hungry?”

“Of course.”

“You’re not getting this one.” I lifted the new Big Mac up and licked my lips.

“You’re an ogre. I bet when we go back to my dorm room, you’ll raid Vivian’s mini fridge.”

“Hells, yes. I love that bean dip she has.”

“You better leave her hummus alone before she kills you.”

“No way. Viv loves the hell out of me.”

Back in Chase’s dining area, we continued to watch Jazz sample the food in front of her.

“What’s this?” I gestured to my plate.

“It’s
casu marzu
,” Chase said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Cheese.” Chase smirked. The way he curved that mouth up told me that it was more than that. I returned my attention to Jazz.

“Oh, my god. This is just”—Jazz stuffed her mouth-”insane! I’ve always wanted to try this.”

“I told them that you were an adventurous, eater and they had
casu marzu
delivered from Sardinia this morning.” Chase knitted his fingers together and watched my sister eat with an odd fascination. That shit always made me uneasy. What type of man looked at his woman in a way that suggested he would either devour or trap her somewhere far away?

Jazz needs to be more careful or I’m going to have to handle this motherfucker.

I checked out my plate. If I hadn’t known Jazz, I would’ve guessed it was some sort of tan cheese smeared onto a thin slice of wheat bread. A pungent odor rose from it. Not necessarily an unappetizing scent, but not exactly appealing.

No way. Jazz doesn’t squeal over cheese. This is something nasty.

“What is this really?” I turned to Chase.

“Just try it,” Jazz mumbled between bites.

“What is it, man?” I asked Chase again.

“Don’t tell him.” Jazz waved her hands. “Just take a freaking bite, Troy. You’re such a scaredy cat.”

Fucking Jazz.

Chase chuckled to himself and took a sip of his red wine. I noticed he’d still not tried his own portion.

“We only live once.” Jazz finished her cheese smeared bread and reached for the other. “Go ahead. If you can take a bite, I’ll stop making you eat things without telling you what they are.”

Yeah, right.

I raised my slice up to eye level. From my plate it seemed like bread with tan stuff smeared on it. At eye level, tiny beige worms, or maybe maggots, writhed and squirmed on top of the bread. A closer look showed me that they were more translucent than beige and barely half an inch long.

“I should beat your behind, Jazz.” I cringed and sniffed it. There went that pungent odor which I couldn’t decide was disgusting or good. My fingers itched to fling the bread at Jazz. We used to do that when we were kids, throw food at each other when Mom wasn’t looking. Jazz ’was lucky that we were in someone else’s house and Viv was around.

“Try it.” Those were Viv’s words. They hummed through me. “Just try it for once and stop being so scared.”

I gritted my teeth. That message couldn’t have been all about the cheese, but I had no intentions of discussing our dysfunctional relationship for brunch. “I try things.”