Black Widow (24 page)

Needing another shot, I head back to the kitchen when I hear the sound again but only louder. I listen more intently to try to figure out where it’s coming from. It’s a fast beat, a song, but I have no clue what. I can’t pin the instrument but it reminds me of a Jamaican steel drum with the high, shallow beat.

After taking another swig, I put the bottle down, going to investigate the sound further. It sounds like it’s coming from my bedroom but when I get there it feels like the sound is coming from the kitchen, where I just was.

Storming back in there, I grab the bottle, taking yet another shot before stumbling back, closing my eyes and listening carefully to the beat that sounds like it’s on repeat.

This time, I take the bottle with me as I roam the house again. Looking in every room, following the sound everywhere yet nowhere. I’m losing my fucking mind and, since I never ate dinner, my consciousness too from the six shots I took in the past ten minutes.

Holding the bottle up, I go for one more shot before I realize it’s empty and, without thinking twice, I throw the bottle against the wall. Happy to hear that the blast of the bottle stopped the tune playing over and over in my head as I fall down on my bed, my face smashed into the blankets and pass out.

My head spins as I open my eyes, trying to move my body but the stiffness from sleeping sideways, half on and half off my bed hurts more than I like to admit. I’ve never been a big drinker and this is exactly why.

After trying and failing to lift my head, I plop it down where it landed last night only to feel the drool that slipped from my mouth throughout the night. Sighing, I pull my body up further on the bed to a more comfortable position and pass right back out.

If it’s not the sun shinning through the window hours later that wakes me up then it’s that damn beat again. I must be losing my mind. I grab my head, letting out a deep groan trying to rid the sound. But I can’t. I hear it, over and over. The same beat and it’s driving me fucking nuts.

Dragging my sorry, stiff ass out of bed, I blindly reach for the remote that always sits on my dresser. But it’s not there.

I look around the room, confused that it’s not where I
always
put it. I’m anal about things like that. There is nothing more irritating to me than a missing remote. Grabbing my head from the pain and annoyance that’s running through it now, I look up to see the remote sitting inside my shoe by my bedroom door.

I know I was drunk last night but why in the hell did I put my remote there? Leaning over to pick it up, I turn on my sound system that’s linked to my Pandora station as
Blow Me Wide Open
by Saint Asonia begins.

The deep guitar strings play hard against my ears but the sound drowns the drum beat out so I could care less that my head is pounding as I strip to take a hot shower, trying to rid my body of this pain I’m in.

I
don’t waste any time and go straight to Kevin’s office the next morning. Do I think he did it? I don’t know. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that people are capable of unbelievable things and to never be surprised by what someone can actually do, especially when it comes to revenge.

As the elevator doors open, I’m greeted by a receptionist giving me a warm smile, “Good morning, can I help you ma’am?”

“Good morning. I’m here to meet with Kevin Foster.”

“Of course, is he expecting you?”

“No, actually, if you could just tell him his friend is here, and please emphasize the
friend
part, to visit him, I’d appreciate it.”

She gives me a weird look as she picks up the phone doing exactly as I asked while looking down and not at me. Within seconds Kevin is walking down the hall with a smirk on his face as his eyes meet mine.

“Well, well, well. Hello
friend
. I kind of hoped it’d be you. To what do I owe this surprise visit?” he smirks walking up to wrap me in a hug.

I shrug out of his embrace immediately, “Can we talk?”

“Sure, come on back.” His hand lies softly on the small of my back as he leans to his receptionist, “Thanks, Lynn.”

Once in his office, he closes the door behind us and walks to where I’m standing with a look of lust on his face as he reaches to place his hands on my hips. “So… here we are. Did you miss me?”

I push him off and walk across the entire room. “Drop the shit, Kevin. You know why I’m here.”

“Well, I have hopes of why you’re here but since you just walked out of my embrace, I’m starting to think I’m wrong. So why are you here, Kamii?”

“Did you do it?” I ask bluntly.

“Did I fuck you? Yes. And damn was it good,” he smirks as he rubs his finger along his lower lip.

“No. Becca... Did you do it?” I ask, trying to push through his bullshit.

“Becca? Is that the girl I fucked at Passage last night? Hmmm, do I sense some jealousy from you?”

“Stop playing dumb. I’m the best criminal defense attorney in the City, if you did it, I’ll find out so you might as well admit to it now. You said you would make Preston pay. How could you?”

“What? Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” his hands go up, slowly waving back and forth like he’s holding a white flag and giving in.

“Answer me, did you murder Becca?”

“Did I WHAT?” he yells in shock.

“You heard me. Preston Babcock is being framed for the murder of Rebecca Anderson and you’re the only person who knew them both
and
you said that Preston would pay.”

“Look, whoa, stop right now. I DID NOT murder anyone. Yes, I was pissed at Preston for yanking my membership but I would NEVER murder anyone. When I said he would pay I was just talking out of my ass. I never planned on actually doing anything.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” I walk up close to him, trying to change his mood by throwing him off by being seductive with him. “You sure were pretty believable when you had me pressed up against that wall downstairs.”

He doesn’t fall for it and puts up his hands between us, “Look. I don’t even know who Becca is and I can promise you, I
did not
murder anyone.”

“You do know who she is. Becca was the other woman with me when we all had sex at the club together.”

He sits down in his chair, the look on his face unmistakable. He didn’t do it. I can tell by the expression on his face. The thought that someone he just had sex with being murdered hit him hard enough to prove to me that he’s innocent. That’s a look that no one can fake because you truly never know how you’ll act until the moment happens. Believe me, I know.

Everyone thinks you’d be surprised, over emotional but that’s not it at all. It’s more of a dead silence of emotion and expression as every thought flashes through your mind in realization of what really just happen. You’re mind and body go into shock more than anything else.

He runs his hands slowly down his face, like he’s trying to wipe the memories from his mind. “Look, I never knew her name. Just like you, she never gave me her
name
and I first met her that night. I promise you, I didn’t do this.”

I place my hands on the desk that sits between us. “I’m going to need an iron clad alibi or believe me, I’m giving your name to the head detective on the case as someone who we believe is the main suspect. So far, you’re the only person who both knew Becca and Preston, you were also the only other person, besides Becca, that knew who Preston was and that he was the owner,
and
you
did
threaten Preston to me, personally.” I turn around to leave but before I reach the door I turn and taunt, “You know where to find me.”

Even though I could tell he didn’t do it, I still wanted to scare him a little and the look on his face was priceless. That’s what he gets for messing with me like he did.

As I walk into my office, Stefanie hands me a message saying the Detective has some news for me. My stomach twists when I hear him on the other end of the phone line explaining to me that the tests came back positive. The semen they found inside of Becca was positively identified as Preston’s.

“Stop the shit, Kamii. You and I know he’s guilty. This is a low, even for you. Please don’t waste my time, dragging this out to trial just to prove to you over and over again that this guy did it,” the detective scolds me through the phone.

I’ve built quite the reputation within the police department over the last few years. I’d love to say I’m their favorite person to work with, but, by the tone of his voice, I know deep down they dread when they see my name attached to a case. I’m a hard ass, the best in the city, and this case will be no different.

Without giving away anything, I calmly reply, “He’s innocent and I’ll prove it to you. Thanks for the phone call but if that’s all, I need to get back to proving you wrong.”

“Fuck, Kamii. Really? I hope he’s paying you good for this shit. Looks like your good name is about to go down. Have fun with that.”

He slams the phone down making me wince in pain as I remove the earpiece attached to my ear. I’ve never let the detectives get under my skin but this took me for a loop. Whoever is framing Preston planned this out thoroughly, trying to make it an open/shut case.

They just didn’t plan on me.

I send a text to Preston telling him to meet me at my office and wait for him to arrive.

He walks in twenty minutes later wearing an old 49er baseball cap, looking down to the ground as he whispers hello. In that moment, everything hits me about how hard he is really taking all of this.