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“ S hit,” I muttered under my breath as I backspaced yet again. I had been unable to focus on this latest round of notes and was struggling to even spell simple words. Thank goodness for spellcheck or what I needed to hand over to Adrian would more than likely be riddled with errors.

I could hear the low rumble of his voice from behind the cracked door to his office, but I tried not to focus too much on it. I had bared my soul, among other things, to him last night, but now I was wondering if that was a wise decision.

“You should have minded your own business,” I said to myself. “On the other hand, if you had done that, you wouldn’t know what you know.”

What exactly did I know?

I knew that PainSlut, aka Melissa Watson, had been at Lotus last night. I knew that Adrian had been extremely angry during and especially after our scene; so angry that he had gone in search of the woman when he thought I was sleeping off the adrenaline drop. Part of me wished I had slept through it all.

I also knew that Adrian had had words with her. I couldn’t hear everything, but I could definitely see everything. I saw Melissa’s facial expressions. I saw her get angry and defiantly face him. I saw him grip her by the throat and pin her to the wall. It was about that time that the conversation around the bar dropped low enough for me to hear the phrase

“You’ll be fucking sorry.”

And now… PainSlut was dead.

“Shit!” I whispered angrily, hitting the backspace key and resisting the urge to just delete the whole document.

I needed some space and some air. Tuning in to the meeting dialogue briefly, I knew I had a few moments and would be able to walk to the kitchen and maybe take a few moments to gaze out the large windows on the other side of the office. I grabbed my phone in case Adrian contacted me via the inter-office chat.

Pushing back from my desk, I decided to take my water bottle as well. I might as well fill it while I was up.

Several minutes later, I stared absently out at the various high-rise buildings which made up downtown San Francisco. Blair and I had loved the feel of this city when we had visited the first time. She was the brave one to move here and establish roots first. In some ways I had been her shadow when I opted to do the same. I suppose I had been her shadow my entire life.

Same city, now I was living in her house. Hell, I was even fucking her boyfriend. No, he hadn’t been that exactly. But Adrian had mattered to her.

He mattered to me, too. This went far beyond the employer/employee dynamic because that line had been crossed so long ago.

I didn’t know what we were, but I knew I mattered to him, too, and he didn’t like it. For whatever reason, being different with me made him angry. He wanted it, but he didn’t want the feelings or vulnerability that came with it. I always got the impression that he didn’t feel he deserved to be happy, or to have someone care about him.

“Everyone deserves to love and be loved,” I whispered, pressing my hand against the coolness of the glass.

It was at that moment that the realization hit me: we were more alike than I thought. I, too, had battled feelings of not being worthy or not deserving to have someone care about me. Those had been with me my entire life. Thanks to my mother, love had been conditional. It had strings and would only be given based on what I could offer or do that was of benefit. My father wasn’t like that, but he had moved away out of necessity when I was a child. Blair and I had kept each other together and had loved one another fiercely…but she was gone, too. Lug Nut loved me no matter what, but he was a dog. And then there was Adrian…

I tried to reconcile the man who had indulged my need to spread Christmas cheer with the livid man I had seen with a hand around PainSlut’s throat. He hadn’t tried to bring her pleasure, rather, he was trying to scare her. It had certainly worked. She’d been scared and so had I. After witnessing that exchange between the two, I somehow managed to stay undetected until Adrian had left the club. Then I’d put my shoes on, the bartender had placed a call with Raul and I was taken home.

Lug Nut greeted me when I got there, bumping my thigh with his head in comfort because he knew I was upset. My dreams had been full of strange colors and Adrian yelling. Then I’d heard on the news about Melissa Watson being found dead. Her body had been recovered from the docks, which brought Blair’s death back into focus. Wait a minute…

My cell vibrated, signaling an inner office ping. Adrian was requesting a couple of files for his next meeting, and he was respectful enough to ask rather than rummage through the filing cabinets.

“I don’t know what your system is and I don’t want to screw anything up,” he’d once said.

“It’s the same as Bea’s,” I’d replied.

“I didn’t know what hers was either.”

Typing back a reply, I began the walk back to my side of the floor when my phone buzzed again. This time it was a call and Caller ID indicated it was San Francisco Police Department.

“Brynn Davis.”

“Ms. Davis? This is Detective Meloni with SFPD.”

“Hello Detective. It’s been a while.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been actively working your sister’s case, even though it may not seem like it.”

It hadn’t seemed like it at all. In fact, it had been on my to-do list to reach out to the police department and request an update, but I’d been distracted the last several weeks.

“How may I help you, Detective?”

He paused and I heard him blow out a breath. He probably thought I was being a frosty bitch, but I didn’t exactly care. My threshold for giving a shit about anything was about to be reached.

“Ms. Davis, would you have some time today to come down to the station? I would like to have a conversation with you about a few things and ask a couple more questions.”

I intentionally dropped my voice, turning to face the window and glancing around to confirm I was alone. “I saw the news report about Melissa Watson’s death. She was also a member of the same club my sister went to.” There was no real need to hold back with this detective since his business card had been in a couple of my sister’s diaries. Diaries that he wasn’t aware I was hanging on to.

“How do you… you know what? Now I really do need to speak with you about several things. I can’t go into detail, but I really do have an update on your sister’s case. Can you be here later this afternoon?”

“I will make arrangements to be there. What time are you off shift?”

Elliott gave a mirthless laugh. “Are you trying to avoid me? I’ll be here no matter what time you come. Time is relative anyway.”

We agreed on a mutual time, then I hurried back to my desk. It had already been longer than expected, but thankfully, I knew exactly where to go to find what Adrian needed.

I approached his office, hearing only the click clack of his fingers on a keyboard. Nudging the door open, I stepped through and slipped inside, trying not to disturb his train of thought. He looked up from his laptop, nodded at the folders in my hand, then stared at me intently.

“You’ve been quiet today.”

“You’ve been busy. I don’t like to disturb.”

“Since when?” His eyes narrowed slightly at my weak attempt to laugh. “I’m busy every day, Brynn. Today is no different. Do we need another evening at Lotus?”

Suddenly feeling nervous, I shook my head, placing the folders next to his left hand. “No. No, Sir. I… I will need to leave on time this evening. I have an appointment with a detective at the San Francisco PD. He has news about Blair’s case and he wants to speak with me.”

Adrian’s face became unreadable, and he suddenly stood, turning to face the large windows. Like me, he would stare over the city to think or gather his thoughts.

“What kind of news?” he asked.

“Well, I… I’m not sure. But he led me to believe it was important. Maybe he has a lead on who killed her.”

“You don’t need to go see the detective to find that out,” he replied, raising his arms and leaning heavily against the glass. He looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I go talk to the police? I need to find out who killed Blair.”

Adrian turned back to face me and the look on his face caused a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

“You don’t need the police to tell you who killed Blair.”

“I don’t?”

“No,” he said warily. “I know who killed Blair.”

“You do? Who?”

His eyes met mine. “I killed your sister.”

TO BE CONTINUED in PROMISES IN THE DARK