Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down (Forged Bloodlines #2) Page 6

  “Sweet, then I’m gonna get this collar too.” She placed a matching black and purple leather collar with a big metal ring on the front next to it.

  “Anything else?”

  “Now that you mention it…” she turned to look around, but caught the expression on my face. “Okay, okay, this is good, thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Actually, I really hoped she never did. I didn’t want to know who she’d be sharing those cuffs with, but I couldn’t picture Rob letting her tie him up.

  We had enough bags between us to give Pretty Woman a run for her money, and Bridget’s energy started to flag. “I need a caff fix or I’ll never make it through my shift tonight. Buy me a coffee and a donut,” Bridget demanded.

  Steering me towards Roastopia, I let her talk me into buying her the biggest espresso drink known to man along with a maple donut topped with crumbled bacon. Any brief flirtation I had with trying to see if donuts were still palatable died at watching her eat the disgusting concoction. We sat there talking over some of the night’s purchases (she was already making the case for borrowing a vintage black cashmere sweater with little black pearls sewn into the shoulders, not something I’d thought she would be interested in), when I spotted a group of people I knew.

  At first I waved to Bonnie and Sarah, but then I saw Melissa come in behind them and some of the starch went out of my smile. Still, I kept the smile, hoping she’d gotten over her bout of nastiness.

  “Look what the cat dragged in, I guess they’ll let in anyone off the street these days,” Melissa smirked.

  I guess not.

  Deciding to go for open communication, I approached them, Bridget following for moral support, or possibly to get a ringside seat to the fight. “Did I somehow do something to tick you off? Because the last time I checked, we were friends.”

  “I don’t make a habit of being friends with backstabbing losers,” she sniffed.

  “Backstabbing? You lost me,” I frowned in puzzlement. What she thought I’d done, I couldn’t imagine.

  “Come off it, Anja. Everybody knows you went to see Matthews to talk him out of picking me for the solo you wanted.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t bother denying it, he told me all about it himself. So you can take the poor little me look off your face.”

  “I swear to you, Melissa, I would never do that.” I couldn’t even imagine the argument I would possibly use to sway Matthews into picking me over her.

  “That’s not all he told me,” her smile turned malevolent. “He told me all about how you begged him for the part. Offered to scratch his back if he scratched yours.” The girls behind Melissa giggled and the color drained from my face as I caught on to what she meant.

  “You did not just say that,” Bridget hissed, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

  “You know that isn’t true,” I gasped, refusing to be cowed by an ugly rumor. “I can’t believe you’re even repeating such garbage.”

  “It takes trash to know trash,” Melissa looked down the edge of her nose.

  “Oh, that is it,” Bridget started forward, glaring angrily at all three girls. “You want me to cut her?”

  “Bridget, no,” I wrapped an arm around her waist, easily holding her back. “She’s not worth it. Besides, I can take care of myself.” Instead of backing down as I might have a few weeks ago, my chin came up a fraction. “Melissa, I’d definitely rethink repeating that rumor if I were you. That goes for all of you. You never know what can happen when you spread lies.”

  “We were leaving anyways,” Melissa took a step backwards, a light of fear behind her eyes. “It’s obvious this place doesn’t have very high standards. Come on, girls.” Without waiting for a response, she high tailed it to the door. Sarah and Bonnie followed, tossing a worried look in my direction before they stepped outside.

  “Damn, you’re friends with that chick?” Bridget clucked her tongue at me.

  “I used to be,” I sighed, watching them leave, still in shock over the ugly things she’d said. Did people really believe that stuff about me? “I don’t know what happened, but all of a sudden she hates me.”

  “Maybe it has to do with that giant stick up her ass?”

  “Maybe,” I shrugged. No sense in getting all upset over something I had no control over. Hopefully the people who knew me well enough would realize it was a ridiculous rumor and nothing more. “Whatever, finish your sugar snack, I want to hit that place we passed with the second hand stuff before it closes.”

  “I’ve created a monster,” Bridget grinned, shoving an impressive amount of donut into her mouth. “Let’s do this!” she crowed in delight around a mouthful of donuty goodness. It made me want to brush my teeth just being near her. “I still think we should go back and get you that corset. Trust me, a guy like Bishop would flip if he saw you in that.”

  “I’m doing enough pretending in my life, the last place I want to pretend to be something I’m not is in the bedroom.”

  “The clothes are just props, whatever you bring to it is your own. Who says you’re not the type to bring a man to his knees?” she raised a brow at me.

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Chapter Six

  I didn’t have any trouble staying awake the next morning, feeling like a kid on my first day of school with new clothes. The instant I got there, it felt like all eyes were upon me, but it only took me about ten seconds to figure out it wasn’t the kind of attention I wanted. All through my first class, I found myself the subject of stares and whispers.

  Unfortunately, I could only pick out bits and pieces of the hushed conversations, but I definitely knew it had something to do with my argument with Melissa the night before. So instead of getting to show off the gorgeous suede boots I’d picked up, I had to deal with more stupid gossip. It was enough to put me in a growly mood, and I spent more time trying to tune out those whispered half-sentences than paying attention in class.

  It wasn’t until the end of the morning that I ran into a single person who didn’t immediately giggle and look away when they saw me, and I clung to Ivy like a drowning man adrift at sea.

  “Please tell me you don’t think I’m sleeping with Professor Matthews too,” I sighed, slumping against the side of the building to stay in the shade.

  “What?” I could tell that wasn’t what she’d been expecting me to say at all. “No…”

  “Good, I don’t think I could take another dig from that harpy today. I’m thinking of skipping my next class to avoid her altogether. You haven’t seen her, have you?” Maybe it was the coward’s way out, but I was a little more afraid of what I’d do to Melissa if I saw her lying face again.

  “Seen who?”

  “Melissa.” Weren’t we just talking about her?

  Ivy’s eyes stretched wider. “Oh my God, haven’t you heard?”

  “Heard what? That Melissa’s been spreading even more rumors about me?”

  “No,” she lowered her voice, looking around before replying. “Melissa was killed last night.”

  “Shut the front door… Are you serious?” The irritation disappeared from my voice, replaced by a healthy dose of shock. “God, she seemed fine when I saw her last night.” Bitchy, but fine.

  “Ah, about that…”

  “What about it?”

  Ivy looked like she wanted to disappear into a hole instead of continuing to talk to me. “People are saying you threatened her about some rumors and being angry about her getting the solo spot.” My mouth opened and closed without making a single sound. I guess I had threatened Melissa in a way… “People are saying…”

  “You think I killed her?” My voice jumped an octave and we drew more than a few stares.

  “No, of course not,” she answered a little too quickly. “But people have been talking…”

  “I don’t believe this.” No wonder everyone was whispering about me! “That’s crazy, I would never…” My words fel
l away as the voice inside my head twisted the knife - but you have killed before, haven’t you?

  Moving like a shadow through the rest of my classes, I realized Professor Matthews had called my name twice as the class filed out after Music Theory. Feeling more than a little awkward not knowing what rumors might have made their way back to him, I approached the front of the class with trepidation. “Yes, Professor?”

  “Yes, I wanted to speak with you about taking over the solo spot vacated by this senseless tragedy,” he said gently.

  “You’re offering me Melissa’s solo?” I wasn’t sure how to react to that, especially since he smiled at me with his old good humor. What had happened to his attack of the grumpypants?

  “Of course. I realize the two of you were friends, but the show must go on, as they say, and I can’t think of a better choice for the part.”

  “But you said my voice isn’t well suited for solos,” I reminded him.

  “Don’t be silly, when have I ever said such a thing? Your voice is made to carry far past the footlights, my dear. I think you’ve proven that well enough.”

  Stunned for the second time that day, I could only stare back at him. What brought on that change of heart? Either way, I couldn’t possibly accept. How would that make me look if half the student body thought I’d killed her out of jealousy and the other half because she spilled the beans about me shagging the professor?

  “No, I couldn’t possibly,” I frowned, shouldering my bag.

  “But the part is made for you. To be honest, I’m not entirely certain why I cast Melissa in it to begin with.” His head shook in puzzlement.

  Curiouser and curiouser… “Thanks all the same, but you’ll have to find someone else, I can’t.” Without waiting for a reply, I got out of there before more rumors manifested as to why I’d been asked to stay behind after class. Deciding to call it a day, I blew off my trig class and took a cab home, not wanting to drag out my exposure to the sun since I had some extra dollars in my pocket.

  Dragging my sorry behind up the three flights of stairs, all I wanted was a cool, dark room and a plasma nightcap before I hit the hay. Lost to thoughts of spiking my snack with brandy, maybe I wasn’t paying as much attention to my surroundings as I should have been. When I felt a hand on my shoulder, I guess I panicked a little. Swinging around, I shoved against the decidedly male body standing behind me, sending Detective Lucas sprawling on his rump.

  I had to stop doing that! “I’m sorry!” I offered him a hand up, but he waved it away, climbing to his feet with a wince.

  “My fault entirely.” His hands came out in a supplicating gesture. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you, especially given the events of the past twenty-four hours.”

  “All the same I’m really sorry, Detective. Did you want to come in to talk to me?” With any luck I’d find Bridget either asleep or out.

  “I would appreciate that, Miss Evans,” he smiled, following me into the apartment. I did a quick visual sweep, but nothing looked amiss. “Do you have news for me about my case?” I could tell from his face his visit had nothing to do with my kidnapping, but it seemed like a logical question for a girl who supposedly knew nothing about her attacker. If he had known something about Jakob, I would’ve been floored.

  “No, that’s not why I stopped by today. Actually, I came to ask where you were last night between the hours of nine p.m. and one a.m.?”

  “Out shopping with Bridget until about eleven thirty, then I came home.”

  “At that hour?” He frowned over his little notebook, scribbling something down.

  “It’s San Francisco, there are places open weird hours. I have receipts if you doubt me. Um, what is this about?” Had he found out about the rumors at school already? Of course he had, that was his job. Why else would he be asking me about my whereabouts the night before? But I wasn’t going to come out and volunteer any information until he came right out and accused me of something.

  “Were you with Miss Russo?”

  “Yes… what’s going on, Detective? You’re starting to make me nervous.”

  “Why, have you done something to be nervous about?” he smiled wide, reclining on the sofa as he studied me carefully. Recalling the last time he’d questioned me about a murder, I remembered him having a little fun at my expense.

  “Is this the part where you’re messing with me because you don’t think I’m capable of killing someone?”

  “No, that was the last time we found a body with a connection to you. This time I have to take you seriously as an actual suspect.” He didn’t lose the smile, but I felt the weight of those blue eyes boring into me, trying to get me to reveal something.

  “I would never do something like that, she was my friend,” I replied truthfully.

  “But not a good one,” he pointed out, leaning forward a little.

  “Well…”

  “In fact, the way I hear it, you lost out on a prime singing part because of her. People saw you arguing with her at Roastopia. That’s a great name, isn’t it? I could sure use a cup of coffee right about now.” He gave me a hopeful look, but I didn’t take the hint, still trying to work out what he hoped to find. If Lucas really thought I was a suspect, wouldn’t we be having the conversation at the precinct? When I didn’t offer a cup of coffee, he cleared his throat, turning back to his notebook. “What were you arguing about?”

  “It wasn’t an argument. She said some things about me I didn’t like, and I confronted her about it.”

  “What sorts of things?”

  “Untrue things,” I emphasized. “Things about me and Professor Matthews.”

  “That must have really chapped your hide, huh?” he observed aloud.

  “It didn’t make me very happy, no,” I admitted freely. “So, I asked her to stop it.”

  “Then you didn’t threaten her?”

  Again with the threatening… I let out a long breath. “I realize now in retrospect, that my words could be taken as threatening, but…”

  “I’d be careful if I were you. You never know what can happen when you spread lies,” he read aloud from the notebook and I closed my eyes. Of course Bonnie or Sarah could have easily repeated the conversation to him. “That sounds like a threat to me,” he seemed almost cheerful about it.

  I leveled a frank gaze at him. “I didn’t say I’d be careful if I were you, I said something like I’d rethink spreading lies if I were her. I meant karma, that’s all. You know, what goes around comes around? I would never hurt anyone over a part or stupid lies. Anyone who knows me will tell you the same thing. I don’t even like to sing solo parts.”

  “But you did want that part.”

  “Maybe I did want to take a crack at it, but I turned it down.”

  “Oh?” he seemed genuinely surprised by that news. “When did that happen?”

  “When Professor Matthews offered it to me today. Why would I do that if it’s what I had my heart set on all along?”

  “Maybe you thought it would draw too much attention now that your rival turned up dead?”

  “You’re dealing in maybes now, Detective?” I huffed. “Maybe you don’t have any real suspects and you’re grasping at straws.” Edgy and tired as my body reached the end of the stims I’d taken, I shuffled to my feet. “I honestly don’t know anything about Melissa’s death. I couldn’t even tell you how she died.”

  Detective Lucas stood, tucking his notepad away. “She was found with her neck broken, her tongue ripped out and missing,” he said almost gleefully, and I recoiled at the graphic image that surfaced.

  “Sweet Jesus… who would do something like that?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he admitted with a rueful smile. “But you have to admit, people who have a history of arguing with you have a nasty habit of winding up dead. I’ll see myself out. Be sure and lock the door after me, Miss Evans. You never know who could be out there.”

  *

  I woke to the feel of someone gently stroking my hair.
<
br />   It was soothing, and clinging to the vestiges of sleep, I lay there, lazily enjoying the attention. A comforting weight pressed next to me on the bed, and I didn’t question it until my brain woke up enough to remember the last uninvited guest I’d had in my bedroom liked to play with knives.

  Jerking away from the touch, I reached for the nearest weapon, which unfortunately turned out to be Mr. Buns. Brandishing the inexpertly repaired stuffed rabbit in front of me, my head cracked against the wall in my haste to get away from… Bishop, who studied me with amusement.

  “Hey, you’re a little jumpy aren’t you?”

  “I’m sorry, it’s been a weird day,” I relaxed, rubbing the sore spot on my head that already started to fade.

  “No, I’m the one who should be sorry, I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.” His face was instantly contrite and I reached for his hand.

  “That’s alright, surprises like this I’m up for any day,” I smiled, leaning back against the pillow. “Is this a purely social visit?” I could definitely get used to that.

  “Mostly. The text you sent me was pretty cryptic, I wasn’t sure if I should bring the cavalry or not.”

  “The text?” I had no memory of texting him at all, but then again, I’d been pretty out of it after Detective Lucas’ visit. “I had another visit from the police today, another student was murdered.”

  “So? What’s it got to do with you?”

  “Nothing. Except I kind of got into an argument with her last night in front of gabby witnesses,” I scowled, pushing myself up to a sitting position.

  “What did you argue about?”

  “It’s not important. What’s important is everyone thinks I had something to do with her death.”

  “Did you?” There wasn’t any judgment on his face, just idle curiosity, and for some reason that struck me as worse.

  “No, I didn’t. How can you even ask me that after what happened before?” He’d been there first hand to see my total melt down when I’d killed Stan. “Melissa wasn’t even eaten, FYI, her neck was broken and her tongue… ripped out,” I swallowed back a wave of nausea at even having to say the words, pushing past him for the kitchen. I needed to eat.