Boxed Set: Traitorous Heart Volumes 1-6 (The Traitorous Heart Series) (14 page)

The living room was decorated in chic minimalist. There was a large flat screen TV on the same wall as the front door. Across from the TV stood a silver coffee table and then a white couch. There were four black pillows on the couch. I knew there should be five because I’d purchased them with Reid.

On either side of the couch were matching silver end tables. Behind the couch was a row of black candles. They rested on a sofa table.

Something was under the couch. I went over and bent to see what it was. A rope. Before I could pick it up, Cage shouted, “Don’t touch anything.”

I pulled my hand back like I’d been burnt. “Sorry. It’s just a rope,” I said.

He bent down, pulled some plastic gloves from his pocket and put them on, then picked up the rope. “Does this look like something Reid would use?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea,” I said. “But I doubt it.”

“Then it could be evidence. We don’t want to tamper with possible prints.” He put the rope in his brief case and stood. “Anything else look out of place?”

“There’s only four pillows on the couch. I know he purchased five because I was with him.”

Cage nodded. “That makes sense. There was a pillow placed into evidence. It’s in the report.”

“Okay.”

Cage walked over to the remote sitting on the coffee table and used it to turn on the TV. A basketball game was on. He pushed a button. Two women were in the throws of some very moany sex. “Interesting,” Cage said, turning off the TV.

“Really?” I asked. “Why’s that?”

“Maybe no reason. Just another aspect of his life we can check into.”

“His TV habits?”

“Yeah. If we want to catch the real killer, we need to turn over every rock, right?”

That surprised me. He was a lawyer. Most just wanted to prove their client didn’t do it… at least beyond a reasonable doubt. His method seemed to go along with my way of thinking. I wanted to find out who actually killed Reid and why. But I hadn’t shared that information with anyone.

“Why?” I asked, wanting to ask so much more.

Cage moved up the landing to Reid’s office.

“I like knowing the whole story. It’s unorthodox, but my way gets results.”

“Is Jonathon Bird okay with that?”

Cage gave me a serious look. “He hired me, knowing the way I worked, so I’m going to say yes. He’s never once told me not to do it my way.”

“Huh.” Apparently Jon Bird was an arrogant ass, but he was also smart. Maybe I wouldn’t mind working for him after all. I followed Cage into Reid’s office. It was small but functional. Built in black shelves lined the top half of the wall to my left. It was filled with books. The bottom half held a counter with cupboards underneath. A shiny black desk and chair stood in the center of the room. Behind it was a window covered by thick black drapes. A sweet stench permeated the room. I guessed it came from the opened box of cigars sitting on the desk.

Cage picked one up and smelled it.

“You like cigars?” I asked.

“I like the smell. They remind me of my grandfather.”

“It looks like someone took his computer. It was sitting right here.” I touched the empty spot and then walked over to the bookshelf, perusing his library without really seeing.

“According to the police report they took a computer into evidence.”

“Figured.” I pulled a copy of
Moby Dick
from the shelf and flipped through the pages.

“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Reid?”

The question caught me off guard. I closed the book and returned it to its place on the shelf. “Besides me, no. But then I’m beginning to realize I didn’t really know the man.”

“Oh?” Cage came to stand beside me. His hands were tucked into his front pants pockets.

I sighed, picked up another classic, and flipped through the pages. “I was his fiancée. We were going to be married. If anyone should’ve known him, it would be me. But I didn’t know him at all.” I put the book back.

Cage watched me. It was a little disconcerting. “How do you know you didn’t know him?”

I laughed. The question perfectly summed up the way I felt about Reid—confused. I crossed my arms and met Cage’s gaze. His eyes were amazing. “A few weeks ago I went to The Attic with Birdy. Reid was there… with another woman. They weren’t just talking, if you catch my meaning.”

Cage grunted and nodded.

“I threw his engagement ring at him that night. The next morning he showed up at my apartment. He was upset. Brian, the guy Birdy hooked up with, told him to leave and he did. But later on I got a call from Reid’s lawyer saying he was suing me for personal injury.”

Cage raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, when I threw the ring at him, it hit his cheek and cut him. It wasn’t bad. Not much more than a scratch. Plus I saw him the next morning and it was small. But the lawyer claimed he was getting stitches. I figured he was just being an ass. Trying to get back at me for hurting him. No one messes with Reid and gets away with it.”

“Until now.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. 

“Sounds like a scare tactic,” Cage went on, opening a cabinet and looking inside.

“That’s what I figured. So I decided to do some of my own digging on Reid.”

“Really?” That seemed to pique his interest. “What did you find?”

I went over to the chair behind Reid’s desk and sat. “More than I ever expected.”

Cage leaned against the door. “What?”

I rested my head in my hands. “I have a thick file, if you want to see it.”

“Fuck yeah,” he said, putting a hand out for me to take. “Come on, let’s check the bedroom. Maybe something there will be out of place as well.”

I froze. “I won’t be able to help you out,” I finally said, standing and ignoring his hand.

“Really? You’re telling me you were engaged to the man but didn’t engage in… bedroom activities.” He studied me carefully.

“He’d told me he wanted to wait until we were married.” I walked out of the office and into Reid’s bedroom. It was like looking at a stranger’s room. I’d only been inside once, and that was when Reid gave me the grand tour of his place. It was a long time ago.

“So you and Reid never…” His voice trailed off.

“Nope. Thank god. Reid was into a lot of shit, and it’s highly unlikely he was careful.”

“I see,” Cage said, coming to stand beside me. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off him. “Well I’d love to get a look at what you’ve found.”

I turned to face him.

“If the two of us work together, I’m sure we can get Birdy’s murder charges dropped. Deal?” He stuck out his hand again.

This time I took it. He gave my hand a warm squeeze and I felt it all the way down to my toes. “Deal,” I said, walking out of the bedroom. “Is there anything else we should look for?”

“No, I think we’re done.” He walked to the front door and held it open for me. I went under the yellow tape and into the hall. Cage followed.

After the door was shut, he glanced both ways down the hall. To the left was the elevator. To the right were more apartments and the door that led to the stairs. “What’s behind that door?” he asked, heading toward it.

“The stairs,” I said.

“Let’s take them down.” He pushed open the heavy metal door and we walked down. The stairs were concrete, the railing metal. Our feet echoed as we walked down.

When we got to the bottom floor there were three doors. One led out to the garage, another led to the front desk, and the third went outside. Cage opened them all, then chose the one that led us outside. It was an alley and smelled like rotting trash. There was a white van parked in front of the door. A man in jeans and a tee shirt loaded boxes of candy onto a dolly.

“You mind holding the door for me, my man?” he asked Cage.

“Sure.” Cage held open the door while the guy when through.

When the door closed, Cage said, “A service entrance. Interesting.” He looked up and I followed his gaze. There was a camera over the door. The lens faced down. “I wonder if the police took the surveillance tapes?” He checked the file. “It says there weren’t any. That a tape hadn’t been installed.” He smiled. “I think we just caught our first break. I’m going to go talk to the security guy. Wanna come?”

I shook my head. “I’d better go home and grab Birdy’s suit and stuff for tomorrow.”

“Cool. But I want to see what you have on Reid. I was going to hit The Attic tonight. Want to meet me there? I can tell you want the security guy said and you can show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay,” I said, ignoring my rapidly beating heart. I wasn’t sure if it was because that meant I’d see Griffin tonight or because I’d get to see Cage again.

He checked his watch. “I’ll see you at ten?”

“All right.”

“See ya, Dandelion.” Before I could yell at him to stop calling me that, he disappeared back inside the apartment building.

I walked down the alley and hailed a cab.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 8

Griffin

 

 

 

The Atti
c
wouldn’t open for an hour still. Me and the guys had practiced a few songs. I thought about sharing the lyrics to the song I was writing for Katie, but decided to wait.

“Group meeting,” I said when we finished the last song. I walked to the end of the stage and picked up my shirt. As I pulled it on the guys stowed their instruments. I hopped off the stage and went over to the nearest table.

Nancy, one of the waitresses, brought us over a round of drinks, ice water with lemon slices. I took a long drink while I waited for the rest of the band to come over. The cold liquid felt good on my throat and I sucked the glass dry, then shook it, letting Nancy know I was empty.

She quickly came back with another. “You sounded great,” she said, picking up the empty glass and setting it on her tray.

“Thanks, Nance.”

She winked and walked away.

I swallowed the water as I watched her walk. She rolled her hips as though she knew my eyes were on her. I couldn’t help but smile. Nancy was a beautiful woman, tall and thin with breasts only the plastic surgery gods could bestow. Tonight she had on black shorts to emphasize her long, lean legs and a red tank top that showed off her endowments. Her curly red hair was piled on her head.

We’d been together once, but it was very apparent she wanted a long-term relationship. I wasn’t interested, so we flirted and stayed friends.

The guys came over, Eddie and Brian in the lead.

“What up, Griff?” Brian asked, sitting across from me and taking a long drink of water. 

“Lay it down,” Eddie added, sitting next to Brian and doing the same.

When Hammond and Steve were seated as well, I looked each guy in the eye. My band mates. But they were so much more. They were my brothers.

“Dude, what the fuck,” Steve said, smirking.

“We have a sit down with Warren Records Friday at two o’clock.”

“We as in you?” Hammond asked.

The other members nodded like they understood. I couldn’t blame them. It was frustrating when labels only asked for me. I always kept the guys in the loop though because I wanted to be honest.

“No, Hamm, we as in
we
,” I said, and smiled.

“Get the fuck out,” Steve quipped.

I shook a chunk of ice in my mouth and crunched. When I finished I said, “I’m serious.” I chewed on another piece of ice. The guys were starting to get antsy.

“Give us the fucking details, you prick,” Hamm said, always the most impatient.

“Tickets have been purchased. A limo will be by Friday morning to pick you up, so get your shit together. In two days we’re fucking going to LA.” I raised my glass.

“You’re serious,” Eddie said, his serious nature insisting that I verify.

“I’m heart attack fucking serious, man.”

“Bout fucking time,” Brian said.

He, Eddie, Steve, and Hammond raised their glasses.

“To fucking making it,” I yelled.

“Fuck yeah!”

We clinked glasses.

Nancy came over. “What are we celebrating?” she asked, her smile genuine.

“Should we tell her?” Brian asked, smiling big.

“Yeah,” Hammond pulled Nancy onto his lap. She giggled, squirming her ass against him.

“We’re gonna need a bottle of your best tequila,” Steve said.

Hammond turned Nancy so she was straddling him. “We have a meeting with Warren Records.” He pulled her close and stuck his tongue down her throat. She reciprocated with a squeal. When he released her, she stood, her face flushed.

“Be right back.”

Hammond winked.

“Remember what I told you about her. She’s sweet. Don’t play with her emotions,” I said.

“Nofux, man,” Hammond replied, adjusting himself in his jeans.

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