Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery (16 page)

             
“Three years ago my life pretty much imploded,” I began and told him everything. About the miserable job, my philandering ex-husband, financial troubles, rehab, moving in with my mom…pretty much everything. When I was done Simon looked at me for a long time without speaking.

             
“I think you’ve come a long way Natalie. I would never have guessed what your life was like back then. To me, you’re a very remarkable and strong woman and I feel lucky to have met you,” he said with sincerity in his twinkling eyes.

             
I looked at him feeling one too many conflicted emotions. There was no denying I was physically attracted to him, but the reality of that attraction always felt so far off course. But now, after sitting here and discussing our pasts, I felt a twinge of something. Could it be the possibility of something actual transpiring? No, I was obviously interpreting the situation wrong.

             
As if on cue, Gilles put forth an image of red and pink roses, which symbolized happiness and love.

WTF, Gilles?

 

CHAPTER
TWENTYONE

             
To say I slept badly would be an understatement. I spent the night tossing and turning, not plagued by dreams or ghosts, but by my own damn mind. One too many indecent images of Simon kept creeping into my thoughts every time I was about to fall asleep. I finally gave up at five, dressed and went out for a run. By 6 a.m. I was back, showered, fed myself and Honey and collapsed back into bed. Talk about pent up sexual frustration.

             
I slept until nearly 11:30am, when I sat up with a jerk, remembering my lunch date with Debbie.

             
“Shit!” I said as I scrambled out of bed and threw on a pair of American Eagle jeans (which worked well on my ghetto booty), a fitted long sleeved t-shirt and my worn leather boots. I ran to the bathroom where I applied a swipe of mascara, some Laura Gellar Baked Foundation powder and lip gloss.

             
I was out of the apartment and on the road a little after twelve. I was going to be a little late, but there was nothing I could do about it now and I was definitely not going to try and break speed limits to get to the restaurant. I found myself at a four-way stop sign, where a cop sat across from me. I motioned for him to go, thinking it was the noble thing to do, when he raised his hand, informing me to go. I shrugged and hit the gas and pulled just past him when I saw his cop car make a U-turn in the intersection and come after me, lights blazing.

             
“What the fuck did I do?” I asked myself.

             
Knowing how little bullshit the Treeville cops take, I decided it was best to immediately pull over. I eased the car to the curb, which was in a quiet residential section.

             
“License and registration ma’am,” the young clean cut officer instructed.

             
Ma’am? Seriously? I had now entered Ma’am territory? Good God, I was old!

             
“Ah, what did I do wrong officer?” I asked snapping myself out of my own pity party.

             
“License and registration, please,” he replied with no humor.

             
I figured this guy was going to operate by the book, so I slid my license out of my wallet and grabbed the registration from the glove compartment.

             
“Here you go,” I said handing him my documents with shaky hands.

             
“Thank you. Please remain in your car,” he said and walked back to his cruiser.

             
My mind began to race. Had I not made a complete stop? Was my tail light out? Did I not pay my last parking ticket? Dear God, please don’t let anyone I know see me. Being pulled over was so embarrassing. The people who drove by where craning their necks trying to get a good look at me. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice my passenger door open and in slid Zack.

             
“What the hell?” I asked in shock.

             
“You look good, are you on your way somewhere?” he asked grinning.

             
I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the patrol car pulling away and driving past us.

             
“I’m going to ask again, what the hell is going on?” I demanded.

             
“Calm down, I just wanted to talk to you,” he said.

             
“So, call me! Don’t have be detained like a criminal!”

             
“I love it when you get all worked up, but seriously I just put a BOLO out on you, nothing serious, just that I needed to question you,” he said.

             
“You’re an asshole,” I muttered.

I couldn’t believe him. What an abuse of power and waste of tax
payer’s money.

             
“Would you have answered the phone if I had called you?” he asked.

             
I thought back to our earlier conversation regarding Emma and her part in my near sexual assault.

             
“No, I probably wouldn’t have,” I admitted.

             
“See? There you go,” he said as if it justified his humiliating action.

             
“Oh, yes. Completely warranted a BOLO alert,” I muttered in disgust.

             
“Well, I think it did. Especially since I had a nice conversation with Scott Chan this morning and found out that he had not only been visited by his lady’s king, but a bonafide psychic detective. You wouldn’t have anything to add to this, would you?”

             
I squirmed in my seat. I really did not want to get into this conversation. I was already running late, and if this impromptu interrogation lasted much longer, Debbie was sure to be furious with me, and rightly so.

             
“If you already spoke to him, then you know he’s not your guy. So, all of this,” I said gesturing to the scene he had caused, “was all for nothing.”

             
“Oh, I beg to differ. Didn’t I tell you to stay out of this investigation, to stop running around with Bellamy? But you never listen. If I wanted your help, I’d ask. I do not need your assistance in this matter. Do I make myself clear?” he said with a bit of a growl leaning closer to me.

             
“Crystal,” I said with a gulp and a nod. Zack was a sexy man. Hell, I’d venture to say that he was even better looking than Ryan Gosling. But, our past was so complicated and the present even more so, I simple did not understand why we kept finding ourselves in these strained and uncomfortable situations. He had a girlfriend, a very vicious and cunning one too, which she more than proved by setting me up with my boss. I had no desire to get mixed up in some crazy affair with Zack. I was not a home wrecker, I had the pleasure of being on the losing end of that one, and it sucked. I could never hurt someone else in that way. Even though Emma had a history of breaking up marriages, I wouldn’t sink to her level.

Still, it was becoming difficult to resist his charms. He may have put an unwarranted BOLO out on
me, but he was still hot as fuck. With his light aftershave scent and the fullness of his lips so close to mine…immediately I began caving in to temptation, as he moved closer and his lips found mine.

His kiss was hard and smothering and I returned
it with equal measure. Man, when was the last time I’d kissed a man? One? No, two? Yes, two years. I was so hungry for him, that all my declarations from moments ago went out the window. His hands found the bottom of my sweater and slowly made their way under to my bra. He began to cup my breasts and lightly moaned. He greedily thrust his tongue in my mouth and lightly touched mine. He tasted of coffee and cigarettes.

Cigarettes
?

As if someone poured cold water on me, I quickly pulled away from him. I moved so fast,
the back of my head hit the driver side window.

“What’s wrong?” he asked bewildered.

“Are you smoking again?” I asked still tasting the horrible nicotine flavor in my mouth.

“Seriously? You’re freaking out because I smoke?”

“I thought you quit. When did you start up?” I asked trying to calm myself.

Zack licked his lips and tried to regain his composure.

“I started a few months ago. It’s no big deal, just a couple here and there when I need to unwind,” he said.

“How many is a ‘couple’?” I pressed.

“Like two or three a day. It’s not that bad, I don’t understand why you’re pissed,” he said sounding offended.

“You don’t understand? Well, let me enlighten you. My father died a very slow and painful death, due to smoking nearly his entire life.
So, excuse me if I don’t have compassion for smokers.”

My father had died ten
years ago from a long battle with cancer. It was the worst thing I had ever gone through and it was something I would never wish on my worst enemy. The way the disease robbed him of his life and dignity was unbearable to witness. I vowed to never smoke, and I also decided I would never hang around with those who did.

“Oh, you’re one of those,” he said a bit bitterly.

“What?” I asked, not sure if I heard him correctly.

“You’re one of those preachers who
think their way is right and everyone else is wrong. You know Nat, here’s a news flash, it’s a free fucking country,” Zack said with anger in his voice.

I sat in shock. Had he really just said that to me? The man, who moments ago was sucking my face, practically depriving me of oxygen, was being so hateful?
Anyone who knew me knew of my intolerance to smoking. It was rude and nasty and there was no way I was going to take this shit from him.

“Get out,” I
commanded.

Zack cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

“Are you kidding? I’m the police; you can’t just kick me out. I could have you arrested for speaking to me in a hostile manner,” he said in an authoritative manner.

“Listen to me
Zack; do you really want to go down that path? You put a negligent BOLO out on me, for what? To fuck me in my car? Don’t you dare try to pull that cop shit. It may fly with someone else, but not with me. I’m sure your sergeant would be very disappointed if he found out you were misusing your position for personal gain. Now get the fuck out!” I yelled.

He sat for a moment, and there was a brief look of sadness in his eyes,
but it momentarily evaporated and was replaced by anger. Quickly he pulled himself out the passenger seat and leaned in.

“Do me a favor
Natalie; keep your nose out of my investigation. I don’t want you or your fucking spirit guide popping up again. If you don’t listen, I’ll have you arrested for interfering with an investigation.”

With that he swung the
door hard, but it didn’t shut. He slammed it again and it just bounced back.

“You have to lift up on the door when you close it,” I explained with irritation.

“Jesus!” he muttered after doing as I instructed. “Get a new fucking car!”

 

The unplanned encounter with Zack made me nearly twenty minutes late. Thankfully, Debbie was running behind, or at least that’s what she said. In any event, Debbie wasn’t mad and lunch ended up being very insightful. Our matching orders of pulled apart pork sandwiches with homemade French fries were delicious. It was a Judy’s special and the food was fantastic. We didn’t really socialize outside of work, so this was the first time I learned of personal details about her. She was quite open as she explained her reason for moving to Treeville.

“I was trying to get away from an abusive ex. I broke up with him, but he just wouldn’t accept that it was over. I finally had to get a restraining order, but what’s a piece of paper going to do? The cops down in L.A. had bigger things to worry about. I can’t even tell you how many times he violated the order, and ea
ch time I called the police, by the time they arrived, Michael was long gone. I finally got fed up and packed my car up in the middle of the night and decided to leave. I drove for about six hours and I finally had to stop for a break. I found myself here, and I kind of liked it. It had that small town appeal. Worlds apart from L.A. and I felt like I could see myself living here.”

I felt immediate compassion for her. How awful to have to flee your home in the middle of the night to escape a crazed ex? I couldn’t even imagine. I was trying to focus on Debbie, but Gilles kept trying to interrupt.
I could see that she was getting emotional and I wanted to give her my full attention. Impatiently I swatted Gilles away from my thoughts and returned my focus to Debbie.

She went on to explain that she was an only child,
whose parent had died when she was six. She ended up in the foster care system until she was eighteen. Since then she had been on her own.

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