Dylan
ASHER HUGGED ME again. I’m pretty sure physical contact with an inmate was off limits, but he didn’t seem to care as he pulled me into his chest. I breathed in the clean, spicy scent of him.
“Someone is setting me up,” I whispered.
He smoothed my hair back from my face then pulled my chin up, forcing my gaze on his. “I know, and we’re going to find out who. I know this will be difficult for you, considering your past, but I need you to promise me you’ll be okay in here until Monday.”
“Until Monday?”
“Oregon doesn’t hold bond court on the weekends.”
I had to stay locked in that freaking cell all weekend. The reality of it crushed the air from my lungs. Forcing myself to breathe anyway, I smiled at him. “Piece of cake. I already took down the biggest chick in there, and I’m currently fashioning a shiv out of a plastic spoon. I got this.”
He chuckled and kissed my forehead. My stomach started gurgling, so I stepped away. He gathered the photos of my dead ex-boss and stuck them back into his briefcase. We lingered there, between uncomfortable silence and good-bye avoidance.
“You should probably go,” I finally admitted. No need for us both to spend the day locked in a cell.
“Yeah. I have a lot of work to do.”
I grimaced. “Sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you anticipated spending your weekend.”
“I signed up for this, Dylan. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I took the bar. You’re the one being dragged in, and I’m sorry. Detective Parker is a good guy, and I’m sure he’ll get to the bottom of this and figure out who really left that body on your doorstep.”
I didn’t share his faith in the legal system, so all I could do was nod.
Shortly after Asher left, and I was taken back to my cell, Detective Pike swung by and informed me that Addison had put money in my account. I didn’t even know I had an account, and I certainly didn’t want my friend filling it with her money. But when I realized I could buy decent toothpaste, snacks, and an extra blanket, I felt nothing but absolute gratitude.
Addison showed up for the Saturday afternoon visit. She appeared on the other side of the Plexiglas partition and immediately started wiping down her chair and countertop with a bleach wipe. I picked up my receiver and waited, watching her take out a second wipe and start on the phone. She looked so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but giggle.
She picked up her receiver and mean-mugged me. “Stop laughing at me. You have no idea what kind of germs are on these phones.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.”
“I wish I could slip you a bleach wipe.”
And I wished she could slip me right out of there, but mentioning that would only make her feel bad, so I nodded. “Me too.”
“How is it in there?” she asked.
Lonely. Scary. God, don’t let me get stuck in here. “Not too bad. I’ll survive. Thanks for the money, by the way. I’ll pay you back when I get out.”
“First, nice deflection,” Addison retorted, “but don’t think I’m not onto you. Second, don’t be an idiot. I’ll give you money any time I want, and you’ll just have to deal with it.”
I blinked back tears. “Addie—”
She waved away my protests. “Deal with it, Dylan. You can’t stop me from in there.” She crossed her legs and straightened her shirt. “Besides, it’s the only thing I can do right now, and that pisses me off. Now talk to me about how you’re really holding up.”
“I don’t want to. Can we please just talk about what you’ve been up to?”
She eyed me for a moment before agreeing. Then she launched into a tale about muffins, her gun, and the apparently delicious detective working on my case. If it was anyone but Addison, I’d swear she was making the entire thing up. I shook my head, laughing.
“So you’ve got a thing for Detective Parker?” I asked, still unable to believe my ears.
“I did not say that!” she replied, sounding like I’d accused her of committing treason or something. “But ohmigod, Dylan, have you seen him? We’re talking Patrick Flueger meets Johnny Depp-type yummy.”
My mind did a visual mashup of those two men, creating a Picasso-inspired nightmare that was anything but “yummy.” “How does that even…?” I shook my head. “Never mind. I get it. Built, dark, and handsome, with over-sexed hair. That’s kind of your thing.” Yep, Detective Parker was definitely Addison’s type, whereas mine was… well… Asher. I couldn’t remember ever being attracted to anyone else.
“What the hell is ‘over-sexed hair’?”
“The kind that is a perfect mess…like he’s been laid often…and well.”
“Whatever. He’s hot.”
“It sounds like I got locked up so you could meet the man of your dreams. No wonder you’re putting money in my account to pay me off.”
“Not funny. But yeah, he makes me all floaty, and when he smiles... well, it’s a most definite panty-losing kind of smile.”
“Gah. TMI, Addie. Way TMI.” I’d never seen her like this before. Sure, my bestie lusted over hot guys, but her eyes didn’t normally take on that dreamy haze they had now. It was like she’d stepped out of the script of The Notebook or one of those other lame romance movies she loved so much. I didn’t even want to know what was going on in her mind. “What’s wrong with you? You just met the guy. It’s like you’re in heat or something. I swear, Addie, if you start spraying all over the place, I’m out.”
That snapped her out of it. “Ha-ha,” she deadpanned. “He’s a little old, but I can maybe work with it.”
“How do you know how old he is?”
“I asked Asher.”
I waited for her to fill me in, but she didn’t. “Ohmigod, Addie. How old is he?”
“Thirty.”
“That’s ancient,” I droned sarcastically.
She grinned. “Just as long as he has enough energy to give me babies, I’m good.”
I rolled my eyes. When Addison decided she wanted something, she generally got it, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the detective proposed within a year and she had a baby soon after.
All too soon it was time for Addison to leave. She promised to return Sunday for both the morning and the afternoon visits, which was impressive since the morning visit was so early. She teared up a little when the guard herded her toward the door, but I put on a brave face and promised her I’d be okay.
The rest of the weekend crept by in a sleep-deprived haze of buzzers, ominous door clicks, and barely-edible food. Seriously, Saturday night’s meal was some sort of soup comprised of the week’s leftovers, making me beyond grateful for the snack money Addison had put on my account.
True to his word, Asher got me out on bail Monday morning. There was absolutely no way I could go back to my apartment (the crime scene), so I didn’t even argue when Addison insisted I stay with her. Arguing was actually out of the question since everything but my furniture had magically made its way into Addison’s second master bedroom. Granted, my furniture consisted of a mattress, a box-spring, a couch, and a nightstand, but they were mine. Every time I asked her how she’d gotten past the police tape to spring my stuff, she just smiled coyly and said she had her ways.
“I’m out of jail now, Addie. You can stop trying to find ways to get locked up with me,” I said as we drove toward her condo.
“Oh honey, this isn’t about you. I’m trying to get locked up with Detective McSexypants now. I wonder how good he is with those handcuffs…”
“Detective McSexypants?” I gagged. “You make him sound like a happy meal.”
“Well…”
I turned up the radio, drowning her out before she could traumatize me for life.
As soon as we got to her condo, I stripped and climbed into the shower, where I tried to scrub off the nauseating scent of jail. It felt like it had seeped beneath my skin, though, which meant I wouldn’t get rid of it until Kirk’s murderer was found.
And what if they didn’t find his murderer? Would I get locked up for a crime I didn’t commit? It was my knife, after all. And he was found in front of my apartment. At least the tests had come back from the blood in the bathroom and I’d been embarrassingly cleared there.
By the time I dressed, dried my hair, and reemerged, I felt discouraged. Sure, I was out of jail now, but how long would my freedom last? I plopped down on the sofa and waited for Addison, who was standing in the doorway paying the takeout delivery guy.
When she finished, she nodded me off the sofa, setting a gigantic bag of food on the dining room table next to fancy china and silverware she’d put there earlier (she was weird that way... when you ate at Addison’s, you ate properly).
“You’re my favorite,” I said, scooting my chair in.
“I know. I’m amazing.” She smiled and waved toward the food. “Dig in, honey. Etiquette be damned tonight.”
I chuckled and dumped noodles on her Royal Copenhagen dinner plate that probably cost more than my car and made me nervous every time I handled it. Thankful for the first real meal I’d had since Friday night, I gobbled down the food while Addison picked at her plate, seemingly distracted.
“Thanks for buying all my favorite shampoo and stuff,” I said. “I can’t believe you found a black toothbrush.”
“Yeah.”
“And thanks for the giant stuffed unicorn.”
“Anytime.”
“You didn’t get me a giant stuffed unicorn.”
“Huh?”
I set down my fork and asked, “Okay, Addie, what’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking about this situation,” she replied.
“And…?” I prodded.
“And what if they don’t find the killer?”
I wanted to tell her not to be so pessimistic, but I’d been thinking the same thing. “I still didn’t do it, and they have to prove I did.”
“Theoretically. But I don’t think we should leave that to chance.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You’re one of the smartest people I know, and I’m intuitive, with mad people skills. Plus, I watch all those murder shows, you know? I’ve learned a lot from them. I bet if we really put our minds together and worked on it, we could solve this mystery and find the killer ourselves.”
“Possibly.” I took another bite, thinking over her proposition.
“I know it sounds crazy, but why not? It’s not like we have anything to lose by trying.”
“Good point. But yes, it does sound crazy.”
“Come on, Dylan. I want to help you. You’d do everything you could if I was the one facing murder charges. I say we do this. We solve the crime, clear your name, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll impress the sexy pants off Detective Jake Parker in the process.”
I laughed. “Oh, so that’s what this is really about, huh? Using my misfortune to seduce you a cop?”
She kicked me gently under the table. “No, but that’s what I call turning a negative into a positive. It’s a good thing, Dylan. Help me.”
Of course I’d help her. Addison was right, I had nothing to lose. And if I didn’t do something, I’d probably go insane from worry long before the case ever went to trial.
“I’m in. And that poor cop has no clue what he’s gotten himself into.”
“If he’s lucky, he’ll be getting into my pants.” She rolled her body suggestively, then stood long enough to throw in a couple of hip thrusts.
I began to laugh uncontrollably, choking on the bite I’d just taken.
“What?” she demanded.
It took me a minute to bring my coughing under control enough to level a stare at Addison. “You wanna have little cop babies, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “You gonna finally grow a backbone and kiss my brother, Dylan?”
That killed my laugh. I chewed my bite and swallowed it. “I just got out of jail. Can we please discuss my complete and total lack of game later?” Like never. I was so over this topic, I would cut my tongue out if I thought it would get me out of rehashing it.
“Seriously, Dylan, how long do you expect him to wait for you?”
Nope, we were clearly doing this now. I took a drink, buying myself time to think. “I don’t expect him to wait for me, Addison. But I don’t expect him to be my sugar daddy either.”
“Nobody thinks that but you. Why are you so hung up on money?”
“I’m not!” I defended. And I definitely wasn’t the only one who thought he’d be my sugar daddy. “I don’t even have any money to be hung up on, Addison.”
“And nobody cares about that, but you. Seriously, who cares that you’re broke?”
“Yep, I’m broke. Thanks for pointing that out, Addison. Like I didn’t already know. Super sweet of you.”
She laughed. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what, Addison?”
“Using my name after every frickin’ sentence because you’re mad at me.”
I glared at her, going over the entire conversation in my mind. Yep, she was right.
“You know Asher bailed you out of jail, right?”
“I knew it was one of you, but it’s not like I’m going to run or anything, so he’ll get most of it back, and I’ll find a way to pay him back for the fees they keep.”
Addison frowned. She got up and poured herself a glass of wine, offering me one. I shook my head, unsure if my stomach could handle it. When she sat back down, she asked, “How?”
“How what?”
“How will you pay him back? You have no job. Your apartment is trashed. You have nothing of value to sell. What will you do?” She sipped her wine, watching me.
I kind of wanted to grab her glass and dump the damn wine over her head. Why was she being so mean? “I don’t know. I’ll find another job, and in the meanwhile I’ll go sell plasma or eggs or something.”
“I’m so sure.” She sighed. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to be a bitch, I’m trying to point out that you have people who love you and want to help you. It’s not a bad thing. Do you know why the judge let you out on bail?”
“Yeah, I get it, already, Addison.” I threw my hands in the air. “Asher’s a great lawyer and he worked hard and then paid the bail.”
“And… when I went to your apartment to get your stuff, two thugs broke in and were looking for something. I hid in the kitchen and recorded their bizarre conversation. They didn’t come out and say who killed Kirk, but they did give away enough for the judge to let you out on bail.”
“You did that?” I asked, my blood pressure spiking. “The recording Asher played during bond court was from you? I thought it was police surveillance or something. Addison, what the hell were you thinking?” I stood, thinking of all the ways they could have hurt her. “You could have been killed! You shouldn’t have gone there alone.”
She snorted. “And you shouldn’t live there alone. If you were living here, they never could have framed you. They wouldn’t have made it past my security system. But you’re too damn stubborn to accept anyone’s help.” She stood, taking her glass of wine with her. “Asher and I have both humored you, waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass, but apparently it’s stuck so far up there not even jail could dislodge it.”
Addison always spoke her mind. It was one of the things I loved most about her. Usually. But right then it hurt… a lot. Shock and outrage coursed through my veins, but I was too beaten and tired to defend myself. Besides, I knew she was right.
Her eyes glistened, making me feel even more like crap. “Dylan, you’re my best friend. I can help you… and it hurts that you won’t let me.”
I lowered my head. “I am letting you help me.”
“Now. And only because you’re out of options and have no choice.” She set her wine on the table and walked around to hug me. “But you need to let Ash help you, too.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just…”
“Crazy-stubborn-independent?” she provided.
My lips tugged up into a smile. “Something like that.”
“Well that shit has to stop because if my brother gets tired of waiting for you and marries some money-chasing harpy, I’m going to cut you. I love you, but I’ll make you bleed.”
“Aww, you say the sweetest things.” I squeezed her shoulders. But then I seriously considered her words. What if Asher did give up on me and find someone else? Just thinking about it made my chest hurt. “Do you think he will?”
“Get sick of waiting?”
I nodded, unable to even voice the possibility.
“If I thought it would make any difference whatsoever, I’d tell you yes, he’ll get sick of waiting.” Addison sighed. “But I know him. He won’t. He’s dated, what? Two girls, and those lasted less than a year because neither of them were you. He loves you, dummy, and if you’d just give him a chance to prove it, you’d see that.”
“Fine,” I said.
“Ohmigod, Dylan, you seriously need to pull—wait... what?”
“Fine,” I conceded.
“Fine, as in…?” she asked, gesturing for me to finish the sentence.
I sat back at the table with a grunt. “Fine, I will drop my guard and explore this thing between me and Asher.”
“Without waiting until you’ve achieved some imaginary status that you think will make you worthy?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”
She stared me down, looking hopeful, but still skeptical. “You promise?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Swear on those ugly boots you love so much!”
“Ohmigod, do I have to write it in blood?” I asked.
Addison squealed and began dancing around the room. I dropped my head to the table (over and over again) when she started singing about kissing in a tree or some shit like that. In the end, I decided against further brain damage and did the dishes. I needed something to do with my hands so I wasn’t tempted to wrap them around her irritating throat.