Texas and Tiaras (The Book Cellar Mysteries 2) Read online

  She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

  Brooke! This is all her fault. She should have just killed me.

  Chapter Four

  Brooke

  If Brooke could have killed Vi right now, she would have. Vi had started all of this when she’d welcomed weird, clown-haired Annabeth into their world. So what if it turned out she wasn’t a crazed pedophilic serial killer? She sure knew plenty of people who fit that bill—people who had turned up at her gala and messed with her goddaughter.

  Yes, it had all started with Vi, and now that things were getting real, she’d locked herself inside that shabby, little house of hers and refused to leave unless someone came and forcibly removed her. She wouldn’t even let Brooke say she was sorry for the whole oops-I-shot-you thing. Brooke had tried to explain, “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. You kind of just got in the way. You know I would never shoot you on purpose!” But none of it did a lick of good.

  Brooke’s life needed to be restored to its last known working configuration—the day before Annabeth moved in. The day before silly lambkins Vi invited the ravenous wolf into their pen. But, no, suddenly kitty had claws. And whether Vi was actually a lamb, a kitten, or just a straight-up jerk of an ex-best-friend, she’d refused all attempts Brooke had made to set things right. Wouldn’t even accept a lousy delivery of groceries to help assuage a bit of Brooke’s guilt!

  Ridiculous!

  Okay, so maybe she felt a little—or a lot—guilty about what had happened, but couldn’t Vi see she’d been trying to help? Couldn’t she at least give her the chance to explain? Well, thanks to Ligia at least, Brooke now had a younger, hotter model BFF-slash-roomie. Yeah, Liggy was a bit of a drama queen and even shallower than Brooke herself, but she was kind and worked hard. That is, when she actually showed up to work.

  Together they were working toward building something amazing with the new pageant consulting business that was the brainchild of Ligia but legally fell under Brooke’s ownership—since Brooke was the one with the fancy American citizenship and the actual capital to pay the bills.

  Texas and Tiaras, they’d named it, to play off the popularity of that awful, but somehow wonderfully addictive, reality show. Jesse had even built them a website with all the bells and whistles. It had a mailing list, blog, photo gallery, event calendar, and even SEO—whatever that was. Their Instagram account already surpassed 10,000 followers, largely due to all the bikini pics Ligia so often posted of herself.

  Speaking of which, here she was now, sauntering into the kitchen wearing only a pair of Joe Smiley boxers and a sports bra. “Good morning, Auntie B!”

  Morning? If you could call practically noon morning, sure. “Hi, Liggy. Don’t you have class today?”

  “Canceled.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged and poured some champagne into a glass with orange juice. “Dunno. I’m making mimosas. Want one?”

  Brooke’s stomach did a somersault at the thought. Or maybe it was the baby in her stomach who’d performed the acrobatics. Your baby is the size of a lime, announced the email she’d received this morning. Twelve weeks, a lime. Soon you won’t fit into your old clothes anymore. As if she needed an email to tell her she was getting fat. Besides she hadn’t even signed up for the creepy TMI emails, so how in the world did they know how big her baby was—or even that there was a baby?

  “Better not,” she said with a smile, “But you go ahead.”

  Ligia studied her for a moment, then frowned. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I have noticed you’ve been putting on a bit of weight. Look, we’re all messed up after what happened that night, but gorging yourself is not the way to deal with the stress or whatever. Want to put that muffin down and talk about it?”

  “I’m good, thanks.” Brooke took a big bite out of the blueberry muffin to prove a point.

  “Suit yourself.” Ligia headed out to sun herself on the back porch.

  Brooke shrugged it off and returned to her email inbox, which was bursting at the seams with unread messages, including new client contacts, interview requests, and myriad other things which couldn’t really wait but simply had to until she could get caught up again. Realistically, she shouldn’t be spending so much time helping Ligia build her business, especially when Liggy herself slept in until noon. Not to mention the day-drinking while lying half-naked for all the horny middle-aged neighborhood men and preteen boys to see…

  But these days she much preferred building something new to trying to repair something old. Like Parties by Brooke, which badly needed a second employee or a full time PA to meet its growing demand. Like her marriage to Brian, which had become tenser still since the gala. Like the baby, which was new and should be exciting but sure as heck didn’t feel that way.

  An instant message popped up on her Facebook. She laughed to herself when she noted Jesse’s new profile pic—an image of him posing with his two daughters and making silly monkey faces. He was one heck of a dad to those little girls, but then again, she hadn’t known him before he’d become a parent. Had he always been so light-hearted and nurturing, or had holding his first daughter in his arms somehow changed him? Could Brian rise to the challenge of fatherhood, or were some men just not cut out for such things?

  The demanding little popup window flashed blue and white in a desperate attempt to catch her attention.

  Want to grab lunch at the Book Cellar?

  Can’t. Working, she typed back.

  Boo. You’re no fun. Then a moment later, a horribly creepy kissy face clam GIF that really looked more like a butthole than it did anything else. But I love you anyway.

  <3 U 2, she typed to make it seem like less of a big deal than it was. Because lately she’d begun to notice that the way she felt about Jesse had evolved somehow. He now filled the role in her life that Brian and Vi had once filled together—only now all rolled up into one, amazing person. Her best friend, her closest confidant... her secret crush?

  No, that was crazy.

  Jesse was happily married to Heather, and she was expecting another man’s baby, her husband’s baby. It’s not like that with Jesse. I’m just grateful to have a friend.

  But now that the thought was there, now that she’d acknowledged it, she had a hard time shaking it loose. Periodically throughout the day, as she worked through emails and updated the Texas and Tiaras blog, images of Jesse naked on top of her would flash through her mind.

  “Does pregnancy make you horny?” she typed into Google and found that the answer was a resounding YES. Chuckling in relief, she closed the browser, found her keys, and decided to take a little field trip to her favorite lingerie store. Maybe if she surprised Brian with a sexy new teddy when he got home, they could finally begin to repair their relationship—starting with amazing, hair-pulling, lung-bursting sex.

  Maybe then once they’d done the deed and he was lying on top of her in an exhausted heap, she could sweetly whisper in his ear and tell him about their baby. Maybe then everything would get back to normal and life would be good again.

  Hadn’t her mother always said good sex could fix anything? Yes, her mother had said that, which was part of the reason Brooke didn’t really speak to her other than on the odd holiday.

  Would Brooke’s baby hate its mother, too? Would Brooke be the kind of mother who flirted with her daughter’s boyfriends and stole clothes from her closet?

  A mother. Me. How can I possibly do this, and all on my own?

  Just then a knock sounded at the door, startling Brooke from her reverie. She looked down at her frumpy sweats. Oh, she was really slipping lately. How much harder would it have been to put on a nice sundress instead of this yucky ensemble? Hopefully she wouldn’t find anyone too important like a client or a vendor waiting on the porch. She swung the door open, mentally preparing excuses for her slovenly appearance and her longer-than-usual response time between emails.

  “Oh, it’s just you.” She breathed a sigh of relief and stood back to allow Jesse to
enter.

  “Gee, you sure know how to make a guy feel welcome,” he teased, placing a large paper bag on the table. “Anyway, whether or not you’re too busy, you still need to eat. Right?”

  “I suppose…”

  “So I swung by the Golden Dragon and picked up some takeout. There’s enough here for two, but I’ll leave it to you to decide whether or not I’m invited.” He twiddled his fingers on the table and smiled.

  “Of course, you’re invited. I could use a break. Hey, thanks.” She loved that he knew what she needed even when she denied it adamantly. No, not loved. Liked like a friend. She liked like a friend that he knew… Oh, crap.

  “As usual, we save the best for first. Pick one.” He stood before her holding a pair of fortune cookies in her palm.

  When she reached to pluck the left one from his hand, a tiny sparked jumped from her skin to his. Normally, they’d laugh and make a joke about it, but this time neither said a word.

  “W-what does it say?” Jesse asked gesturing toward the still-wrapped cookie in her hand.

  “Oh, right.” She tore into the thin plastic wrapping, broke her cookie in two, and read the message inside:

  Now is the time to be bold and make big changes in your life.

  “Well?” Jesse prompted.

  “It says look no further. You are already on the path to happiness,” she lied.

  Chapter Five

  Annabeth

  Annabeth stretched her legs and took another bite of her greasy burger. She’d become hooked on a chain restaurant in the neighborhood and reasoned that her regular running and swimming regime would counteract whatever damage the thousands of calories were doing to her body. Then there were the cigarettes…

  Ugh...I need to quit smoking. Sitting all day in her vehicle made it hard not to light up out of sheer boredom.

  The information that she’d gleaned from Carlos’s phone—before the police had shown up on the scene—had not been as helpful as she’d hoped. Marcus spent a few weeks weeding through all the crap and finally found a possible safe house location. The address, a new home in one of the upscale subdivisions, had been listed on one of the contact cards in his favorites section of his phone. They’d had to go through twenty names and their boss was getting restless. If they didn’t come through with their promises, he would show them the door—leaving them broke and homeless. Not to mention it would leave those poor girls high and dry.

  Marcus had worried about her going to the house alone, but she’d somehow allayed his fears long enough to leave without him putting up too much of a fight. She couldn’t blame him for worrying, considering what had happened under her watch last time.

  She had parked a few houses down to observe with her binoculars from a safe distance, just like the FBI had taught her once upon a time. There were times when she forgot she wasn't with the Bureau anymore, and when she remembered how they’d asked her to turn in her badge and gun, it stabbed at what was left of her self-worth. She wondered once again if she was really cut out for this work. This need to prove herself to the FBI, to Marcus—to everyone who’d ever doubted her—kept her working late into the night every night. In the end, she would bring these men to justice, and all the women they had taken would finally be free. Which was why she’d been sitting in a cramped car for over five hours watching what looked to be an empty house.

  Buzz, buzz, buzz.

  She picked up her phone and looked at the new message from Marcus.

  Hey babe, hope it’s going well!

  She shot him back a quick message saying she was fine, but bored. The house looked empty as far as she could tell. If nothing happened in the next half hour, she was going to call it a day. She was eager to get out of the car and into his arms.

  Her phone buzzed.

  She picked it up, expecting some silly response from Marcus but the message wasn't from him. The hair on her arms stood on end. A picture of her sitting in her car reflected back at her from her phone screen. He’s watching me.

  Without being too obvious, she looked around her. He or one of his men could be anywhere and she was alone and armed only with the pepper spray that hung on the end of her keychain. Her breathing turned shallow and her heart pounded in her chest. She pulled out a cigarette and held it between her teeth to light it.

  With one thumb she texted him back.

  Olly olly oxen free.

  She drew in the sweet tobacco smoke and let it leak out the side of her lips. The quietness of the neighborhood left her unsettled. Her body buzzed in a mixture of fear and anticipation, making her feel like a jack-in-the-box all wound up and ready to pop.

  Her phone’s vibrations on her vinyl seat caused her to jump. Ashes from her cigarette shook loose and landed on her bare leg. “Ahh...jeez!” She brushed the burning ash away and examined the red mark on her thigh. Stupid cigarette! She tossed the rest of it out the opened window and picked up her phone to read his message.

  Say please. Better yet, beg.

  “Seriously?” She leaned out the window, shouting into the twilight.

  A woman walking her dog eyed her suspiciously.

  Great, the last thing I need is to have her calling the cops on me.

  It was official, the stakeout was a bust for the night. The text from Marcus and the games Fin was playing made her want to drive off and never look back.

  Her phone lit up again.

  You’re hot when you’re angry. Better get going. I think that dog lady just wrote down your license plate and you know what will happen if the police get involved.

  Annabeth looked in her rearview mirror and sure enough the nosey woman was looking at the car and talking on her cellphone.

  “Just great! Perfect!” She slammed her fist on the steering wheel and started the car.

  The woman glared at her as she drove past. Annabeth waved and smiled. Her foot hit the gas a little too hard and her tires squeals. At the light, she stopped and took a deep breath.

  Buzz, buzz, buzz.

  “Of course,” she shouted. “What? You want to gloat now?”

  She snatched up her phone and pulled up the next message. Three pictures loaded on her screen. Vi, sitting on her sofa surrounded by bottles of pills, Marcus watching a ball game, and Ligia in her underwear, brushing her teeth.

  I can so easily destroy them, one by one. All you have to do is play by the rules. Don’t worry, baby. We’ll be together real soon and I promise I will make it worth the wait. Oh, and in case there’s any doubt, you will be begging me in the end.

  She turned off her phone and tossed it back on the seat. Her hands strangled the wheel and her jaw set as she did a U-turn in the middle of the road—narrowly missing two other cars. His threats were escalating along with the creepy stalker pictures. If she went to the cops for help she’d miss the chance to find him and destroy him herself.

  That must mean I am close to something…he really wants me away from the house…why?

  She turned around and drove back to the neighborhood and down the street. The woman with the dog was gone, but now a car sat in the driveway of the house she’d been watching. A man that looked to be about eighty years old stepped out of the vehicle and walked into the house.

  Annabeth snapped a picture of the car’s plates and a few of the man. She sat and waited, but when nothing more happened for over an hour, she put the car in drive and took off toward home. Marcus could run the plates first thing. The house was listed under a shelter corporation, but hopefully the car would be registered to a real person. Most likely a wife.

  As she drove into their subdivision, she was struck by the Halloween decorations that had begun to pop up in the last few days. The homes on Brooke’s street were all decorated with chic spooky decorations that probably cost them a fortune. Annabeth stopped at the corner stop sign and spotted Brooke, dressed in day-glow workout clothes and running like she was being chased. Then suddenly Brooke stopped and bent at the waist. She clutched her stomach and cried. Annabeth was ab
out to pull over and see what was wrong, when a car pulled up behind her and honked for her to go.

  Brooke looked up and put on a fake smile and waved. Annabeth waved back. Something about the exchange was off-putting. Was Brooke okay? She hadn’t really talked to her much since the event. She thought again about talking to Jesse about her. Everyone was falling apart. It’s all because of you. If you hadn’t come to Herald Springs, Brooke and Vi never would have been pulled into this. They would still be friends and causing their small town drama—happy as clams.

  The car behind her honked again, breaking her thoughts. “Come on, lady!” The man hung out his window and hollered at her.

  She gave him the one finger salute. Jerk! Texans were the rudest and worst drivers she had ever seen. The nerve. She pulled forward and gave her sad looking neighbor a half wave as she drove past. In her rearview mirror she saw Brooke’s statuesque frame crumple as Annabeth drove off home.

  Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

  Chapter Six

  Vi

  Thursday morning might as well have been any other day. Vi awoke drenched and screaming from yet another nightmare. Her heart pounded and a rivulet of sweat dripped down the side of her face. She twisted the bedsheets with her hands as a fresh wave of pain overtook her. I can’t keep going like this.

  The lyrical sounds of her phone’s ringtone intruded on her moment of agony, demanding her full attention. There was a time she would have jumped to solve all the world’s problems, but not anymore. The Beatles’ Help—her ringtone for the shelter—continued to play, waiting for her to answer the call of duty.

  “He-hello…”

  “Hey, Vi. How are you feeling?” Her boss Lauren had sent a small bouquet of flowers, but had not yet called to check up on Vi following the shooting. Not that she was keeping track of these things…