Page 8

Jaelynn

A s we left, I thought I saw a man duck behind a truck, but as we rode past, I realised I’d been seeing things. The sun was dipping low in the sky, but the air was chilly.

Slate told me there was somewhere else he wanted to show me if I was okay with that, and I agreed.

I’d worked last night because Mac had asked me to swap shifts to review everything with me. Usually, I’d have been off. In return, Mac was giving me either Thursday off or overtime. Naturally, I’d accepted the extra work.

“Have you ever been here?” Slate said as we pulled up outside an attraction.

“What is it?”

“A haunted house experience. This is open all year round. Friends of mine run this, and a hunch told me you’d like it,” Slate answered but seemed unsure.

“Slate, I love haunted houses and Halloween. There’re escape rooms, too?” I questioned, seeing another sign.

Slate looked uncomfortable, and I guessed I’d said something wrong.

“There are. And they’re pretty good, but a friend got attacked there, and she’s still recovering. Still, we can visit them if you want. Security is a lot tighter than before,” Slate replied.

“The haunted house is great,” I stated, not wanting to distress Slate any further.

Slate smiled at me, and he visibly shrugged the negativity away. Something horrible had really happened here.

“Can we go elsewhere? This place makes you upset.”

“No, it’s fine,” Slate said.

“No, it’s not,” I argued.

Slate caught my hand up. “Jaelynn, I’m good. The house and gardens weren’t part of the bad memories. Come on and watch out for zombies!”

“Zombies?” I demanded as he yanked me through a creepy graveyard.

A couple of times, I screamed as zombies popped out of the ground, and as one made a grab for me, I shot off, yelling.

◆◆◆

Slate was laughing hard an hour and a half later as we exited the grounds. “I can’t believe you ran backwards to escape the Horseman. Damn Jaelyn, you ended up getting chased all over two more times!”

“Shut up,” I said mock grumpily.

“You fled from those statues, then headed back into them and ran out again. And you still wouldn’t cross that bridge. It’s a good job I knew a diversion,” Slate stated, chuckling.

“You’re mean!” I replied, laughing.

“There’s a restaurant, fancy a bite or a drink?” Slate asked.

“You promised me doughnuts,” I reminded him.

“Jaelynn, I had to get you through that maze somehow.”

“Doughnuts, Slate,” I threatened, and Slate laughed again.

“Come on then. This place does fresh ones.”

◆◆◆

Slate parked on the drive and walked me up to my door. I felt a little unsettled and smiled uncertainly.

“Thanks for today, it was nice…”

“Jaelynn, I’m going to kiss you. I’m telling you now so I don’t scare you when I grab you,” Slate interrupted. “Tell me if you don’t want me to touch or kiss you.”

I shook my head, and Slate stepped into my space. He cupped my cheeks and held my eyes before lowering his head and claiming my mouth. He was gentle, not pushing or trying to force the kiss.

I sighed and parted my lips, and Slate took that as an invitation. He didn’t command or take over but gave me one of the sweetest kisses I’d ever experienced. And hell, just the sweetness was sexy.

When it ended, I was pressed up against Slate on tiptoes. I blushed a little, but Slate ran his thumb over my bottom lip and smiled.

“We’re gonna take this slow. Like a fuckin’ snail. I’m not going to trigger you, and I realise what you suffered. Lynda assured me you weren’t raped, but it came damn close. That means you’ve got trauma, baby, and if I’m any sort of decent man, I’m going to take care of you. Jaelynn, we’ll move at your speed,” Slate murmured.

Slate gave me a gentle kiss one more time and ushered me inside. He waited until I’d locked the door before leaving.

I heard Slate’s Harley roar off and walked dazed into my living room. Holy shit, a unicorn!

Slate

“Need to talk,” Ramirez declared, entering the club.

“What’s up?” I asked, reaching for a water bottle and grabbing a stool.

“Did you visit the Haunted House last night?” Ramirez questioned.

Slate looked over his shoulder as Ben entered, expressionless. That put Slate on guard. Something had happened.

“The girls…” he said, rising.

“They’re fine. But security discovered a body dumped there. The victim died around eight o’clock, give or take an hour. It’s murder,” Ben stated.

“I was there on a date, you’d have checked the cameras,” Slate replied.

“They don’t provide full coverage,” Ramirez replied.

“Are you accusing me of something?” Slate demanded, temper heating.

“No, you damn idiot. We’re asking if you saw anything,” Ramirez retorted and shook his head.

“Oh. No, nothing stands out. You got a name or image?”

“Show him,” Ramirez ordered. Ben pulled something up on his phone and turned it so Slate could see. Slate’s blood ran cold.

“You say she was murdered?” Slate asked.

“Yes,” Ben replied, watching Slate’s face.

“She worked at the bar. Her name is Ariel Waddle. She lost her job due to pulling a fake sick day. That was two weeks ago. Mac sacked her and a few other girls. Was this a damn trap?” Slate demanded.

“Fuck you, drop the attitude, dude. We had no identification because she’d no purse or ID on her. Nor are Ariel’s prints in the system. Until you just gave us a name, Ariel was a Jane Doe,” Ramirez explained.

“Shit, I feel bad. Mac told us Ariel came begging for her job back, but he threw her out. How did she die?”

“Victim was beaten, and her throat slit. Whoever beat her did so for the fun of it, they got enjoyment out of it,” Ben said. He looked weary and tired, and Slate felt sorry for him.

“Fuck.”

“Did Ariel have a boyfriend? Husband? Girlfriend?” Ramirez asked.

Slate glanced at him incredulously. “Do I look like I stand around gossiping with the waitresses?”

“You might have overheard something or walked in on a girl pow-wow,” Ramirez replied with a sigh.

“Nah. Not that I can think of. Your best bet is to speak to the other girls and there were two others we sacked. Hailee tended the bar, Skylar waited tables. We were incredibly annoyed because all three called in sick and headed to a concert, leaving us in the lurch. That’s why they were all fired. No one held a grudge, to my knowledge. But I’m not at the bar often enough to witness problems. We alternate weekends.”

“True. We’ll speak to Mac. And we’ll need your date’s address,” Ben said, pulling out a notebook.

Slate eyed Ben steadily. “Jaelynn won’t tell you any different.”

Ramirez frowned. “We have to cross out Ts and dot our Is.”

“Why so reluctant?” Ben pushed.

“Ah, shit. Look, I’ll take you to Jaelynn, but you can’t interview her without me,” Slate responded.

“What’s going on, Slate?” Ramirez asked.

“Jaelynn’s running from an abusive relationship. She’s not trusted me with the details yet, but we’re building something. Whoever this guy is, Jaelynn is terrified,” Slate replied.

“Sorry, Slate. We’ll go easy, but you know we need to talk to her to clear you,” Ben said.

“Yeah. This ain’t gonna be pretty. Let me do the talking at first.”

“That we can do,” Ramirez agreed.

Jaelynn

I had boxes everywhere, and it was great! Jared had stacked everything neatly, and I was sitting at the desk putting away the stationery I had bought. Pens, pencils, drawing pins, the whole lot went into the drawers, leaving me with the files, punched pockets, and stacks of paperwork. My anal-retentive self was happy as a pig in muck.

The coffee machine had been set up, and Ezra was grateful. I’d put the mixed cookies into a cookie barrel, the sachets of sugar sat in a bowl, and I’d discovered a larger bowl for the milk containers. Ezra had promptly given me a fifty-buck-a-week snack allowance for the office.

Now I had the little label printer out, and I was sorting through the first stack of invoices dated as early as two thousand and two. Ezra’s idea of filing had been to dump everything into a box and write the year on it. This was shaping into a massive nightmare.

I’d decided to put the paperwork in date order before entering them into the new system I had bought. Ezra said my laptop was pretty new, but it lacked the programming I needed. I’d hunted for an office program last night and had uploaded it while I set up the coffee machine.

Once I’d entered the details, it would allow me to create a client profile, and I could see if any were return customers. Ezra also still tracked everything on paper, so I’d installed payroll and Quik Accounting software so he could track things much easier. This was stuff I loved doing.

Luckily for me, Ezra had known how to use a stapler and any receipts relating to the job Ezra had stapled to the invoice. Now, it was just a matter of sorting through and getting them in order—date-wise—and shoving them into a punched pocket. Then I’d print off the client details from the laptop and a label and shove them in the filing cabinet!

I was smiling when the office door opened and Slate entered.

His face was stern, and my smile faded as two men walked in behind. No sooner had I looked, I knew they were cops.

Fear swept over me, and I slammed back, smashing into the wall of the portacabin with my chair. I lifted a hand to ward them off and began curling into myself. A wail escaped my mouth.

“I’m not going back. You can’t make me,” I cried loudly, staring at them.

Slate jumped as an animalistic noise escaped me. His head swivelled between me and the officers, and enlightenment crossed his face.

“Ramirez, Ben, outside now!” Slate snapped.

I grabbed the stapler to defend myself.

Both detectives nodded and left. The Mexican-looking one seemed worried as he sent me a glance over his shoulder.

“I’m not going back!” I screamed at Slate.

He rushed around the desk, and I fired the stapler. Slate jumped but kept coming and wrapped me in his arms.

“Nobody’s gonna make you. Babe, a murder occurred, and Ramirez and Ben need to question you. This isn’t about you. You’re safe. They’re good people and wouldn’t expose a victim to her abuser. Trust me, baby, they’re not here to take you anywhere,” Slate kept repeating stuff as I tried to calm down. Seeing two officers walk in had been shocking.

“They’re not here for me?”

“No, and I wouldn’t let them take you either. There was a murder. Do you remember Ariel?”

“The girl that accused me of stealing her job?”

“Yes. Ariel was murdered last night. Her body was left at the Haunted House attraction while we were there. They want to know if you witnessed something,” Slate replied as he rubbed my arms.

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Just need to tell them that. I’ll be here the entire time,” Slate said.

I nodded but clutched his hand. “You’re bleeding,” I murmured.

“Baby, you shot me with a stapler.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t. That reassures me that if someone did try to take you, you’d go down fighting.” Slate chuckled. “I’ll fetch you a fancy coffee from that damn thing and bring them back in.”

Slate was as good as his word; he made me a vanilla latte, checked I was composed again, and then headed outside. I was unaware of what Slate was saying, but his voice was loud and firm.

Slate

“Damn, Slate, did you expect that?” Ben demanded.

Slate turned to glower at him. “Fuckin’ warned you Jaelynn was on the run. We’re going to give her a few more minutes to compose herself.”

“Did you know it’s a cop Jaelynn was running from?” Ramirez asked.

“Fuck no. You picked that up as well?” Slate replied.

“When she had a reaction like that? Jaelynn knew we were cops, which means she has been around a lot of them. She’s also terrified of us. Your girl is hiding from an abusive police officer,” Ramirez stated.

“And one who holds power because Jaelynn thought we were working for him,” Ben agreed.

“You’re going to have to keep her name out of any report,” Slate said.

“Yeah. We’ll speak to Howser. A dirty cop, the last thing he fuckin’ needs,” Ramirez responded.

“How do you know he’s dirty?” Slate demanded, narrowing his eyes.

“Jaelynn’s reaction? That asshole is filth. I’m betting she reported the abuse, and shit got covered up. Will she talk?” Ben asked.

“Yes, but don’t push, and certainly not about her private life. Keep to questions about the case,” Slate replied.

“That we can do easily. Go in front, Slate, so Jaelynn’s not threatened by us entering without you,” Ramirez said.

“Women shouldn’t live in fear like that,” Ben complained as he followed Slate.

Slate found he couldn’t disagree. Nobody should be so terrified. It’s why he supported every effort made by Phoe to raise money for the Trusts.

Jaelynn was watching warily as the cops entered behind him. No sooner had Slate stood by her chair than she grasped his hand tightly.

“Jaelynn, I’d like to apologise for the fright we gave you. But we need to speak to you about a murder that happened. Last night, the body of Ariel Waddle was discovered, and I’m sorry to say she’d been murdered. Can we ask you a few questions?” Ben said.

“Yes.”

“How did you know Ariel Waddle?” Ramirez asked.

“I didn’t. I met Ariel once on Monday evening when she came into the bar and accused me of stealing her job. But I hadn’t. Slate and Mac had offered me it because I’d helped them out two Fridays back.”

“How did you help?” Ben inquired gently.

Jaelynn graced him with a suspicious look. “I needed a drink after a terrible workday. But there was only one waitress on, and she was really struggling, so I stepped up and helped.”

“Did you expect to get paid or given a job?” Ramirez questioned, and Jaelynn scowled.

“No, people help sometimes because they just want to and are good people. That may be hard for you to understand,” she snapped, and Slate smirked.

“Not at all, Jaelynn. These are questions we must ask. You might have noticed something that you don’t think is important, but it is,” Ramirez said.

Jaelynn bit her lip. “I did notice an oddity when we left the strip club. I thought I saw a man in a baseball cap watching, but he vanished before I could register his looks,” Jaelynn admitted.

“Can you recollect any details?” Ben asked.

“No, he was gone too quickly. At first, I believed I’d imagined it, but I know I hadn’t.”

“Okay, can you remember anything odd at the Haunted House? Could you walk us through what happened?” Ramirez said.

Jaelynn related everything she could about the Haunted House to the cops and then spoke about their date after and what time Slate dropped her off. She basically confirmed everything Slate had told them and couldn’t add anything else.

As she talked, Slate wracked his brains to think of any details, but there was zilch. Slate’s focus had been fixated firmly on Jaelynn. Slate was puzzled. What were the odds that Ariel’s body would turn up where he’d been on a date?

A chill ran down his spine.

“You just thought of something,” Ben said.

“Yeah. Jaelynn panicked at the Headless Horseman and headed back the way she’d come. If she hadn’t done that and we’d not veered off, Jaelynn and I would have walked past the dump site,” Slate replied.

“Wait, you diverted?” Ramirez asked.

“Yes. We should have walked over the bridge, which would have taken us directly past the scene, but Jaelynn refused to cross it. Instead, I took her the long way around, which is on camera, so you’ll see us. But yeah, we should have passed close to Ariel,” Slate confirmed.

“What’s with those looks?” Jaelynn demanded.

“Because, babe, we were close to the killer,” Slate explained.

Slate swapped glances with the others and shook his head. Jaelynn didn’t need to know what he was considering. Because honestly, Ariel’s body being near to them screamed a warning to Slate. Somebody had followed them there and dumped it. It was too much of a coincidence.

He could see Ben and Ramirez thinking the same. Someone had tried to set Slate up for murder. The question was, who? A Venomous Fang? Another enemy? Why had they come after him?

“Thanks, Jaelynn. We won’t put your name in the system, and we’ll let Chief Howser know. He’ll accept it as Howser does a lot for the Trusts,” Ramirez said, getting to his feet.

“You okay while I show these guys out?” Slate asked Jaelynn.

“I’ll be fine. I was starting the filing. You can go back to work, Slate,” Jaelynn stated.

Slate studied her. Jaelynn remained pale and shaky. No way was he leaving her. He bent over and tilted her head up to face him.

“Ain’t going nowhere, baby. Forget it,” he replied and gave Jaelynn a light kiss.

Slate held her eyes for a few seconds and ran a finger down her cheek before departing to speak to Ramirez and Ben.

“That’s no coincidence. Slate, you were followed,” Ben said as he approached. Slate noted how Ben kept his voice down.

“Yeah, but by who?”

“That’s the question. Keep your head on a swivel, Slate. Someone has targeted you,” Ramirez agreed.

“Is Jaelynn at risk?” Slate asked. He was fully prepared to stick her on a plane and get her out of the country.

“No. It’s one death. I believe the person tried to set you up and was unsuccessful. They’re not going to be too happy they failed, but I can’t see them trying again. Just make sure you keep company over the next few days and stay as much as possible on camera. Note everywhere you go and the roads you took getting there. Let’s cover your back,” Ben said.

“Pain in my fuckin’ ass,” Slate complained.

“So is getting locked up!” Ramirez stated.