Chapter Fourteen
The café sat nestled between antique and craft stores, framed by several large maple trees that provided some shaded relief for customers seated on the patio. A large coffee cup with steam rising from it and a piece of cake on a small plate were etched in white upon the front glass window along with the name of the place—Sugar & Spice Café—written in a fancy font.
Inside, most of the round tables that sat two to three people were taken, and Isla glanced around, trying to determine which table would be empty soon. The scent of freshly baked muffins, scones, and sweet breads mingled with the dark aroma of roasted coffee beans, and Isla made her way through the throes of people to stand in front of the glass-fronted counter that held an array of cakes, pastries, and sandwiches.
“May I help you?” the barista asked.
“I’m waiting for a friend. Is there any seating out back?” Isla craned her neck toward the patio door, but the wooden shelves lined with prepackaged coffees and teas obstructed her view.
“Let me check,” the woman said as she dashed away. From behind her, she heard the impatient sigh of a customer. A few seconds later, the barista came back. “There’s a table out there. I put a reserved sign on it for you.”
“Thank you so much,” Isla said. “I’ll have an iced cinnamon macchiato made with almond milk, please. And a mozzarella, tomato, and basil panini.”
“Did you want your sandwich warmed up?”
“Yes, please.”
With drink and panini in hand, Isla maneuvered her way to the patio and sat at the small wrought iron table near the fence. Multi-colored umbrellas adorned the tables, and boxes filled with an assortment of colorful flowers dotted the outside area. When she sat down, she took out her phone and glanced at the empty screen, her mouth set in a semi-pout. Even though it was bright and sunny on the patio, grayness clouded her mind. Sangre had yet to respond to her texts. She’d sent him two the night before, after recording, and one before she left her house to meet Madison at the café. Nothing. Her mood ricocheted between low and lower. He’s ghosting me. What if he never contacts me again? Like he did all those years ago after I left him that letter. I can’t believe he’s doing this to me.
“There you are. Sorry I’m late.” Madison flung her purse and several shopping bags on an empty chair. “I’m so glad that you got us a table outside. I love it here. It reminds me of being on vacation. What did you order?” Isla told her and she crinkled her nose. “I want real milk. I want all the calories and decadence they can shove into one cup.”
Isla laughed. “Go for it.”
“I plan to. I’ll be right back.” She walked back into the restaurant.
Isla nibbled on her panini, not really very hungry but knowing she had to have something considering she hadn’t eaten since the morning before. When Colt came over earlier that morning to pick up the lemonade, she’d been sullen and had tried hard to be interested in what he was saying. If she hadn’t promised Carly and Letty she’d make the lemonade, she wouldn’t have answered the door. When Madison called proposing a coffee break, she’d almost said no but knew all she would do instead was check her phone a million times and brood.
“It’s so crowded in there. I guess everyone had the same idea we did.” Madison plopped down on the brightly-colored cushion on the black iron chair. “So what’s new?” She stirred her coffee and licked off the foam from the small wooden stick.
“Sangre and I kissed yesterday.”
Madison held the stirrer in mid-air, her eyes wide. “What the hell did you say?”
Isla pressed her lips together and leaned forward slightly. “Sangre kissed me, and it was so fuckin’ incredible.”
“Is that all that happened?”
“Yes, but that’s because Arsen came over and interrupted us. I know if he didn’t, things may have gotten out of control. I wanted to be with Sangre so bad. He was so ready.”
Madison laughed. “Was he hard as hell?”
“Oh yeah. I kind of freaked when Arsen was there. I know he thought I fucked Sangre. I felt weird about that, and the whole way to the studio, I kept telling him how it’s good to have a friend whom I’ve known for so long. I told him all we do is talk, talk, talk, but I knew he wasn’t buying what I was saying. It would’ve been better if I had just kept my mouth shut.”
“So he thinks you and Sangre did it?”
“I’m pretty sure he does. He would never tell me that. He doesn’t get involved with stuff like that, but I know he was thinking about Benz.” She groaned as Benz’s anger-filled eyes flashed in her mind. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never cheated on Benz, and there I was, kissing Sangre like I was single or something.”
“You’re attracted to him. Face it, you always have been. I think you even liked him before high school.”
It was true. As she got older, her first and only real love had been Sangre. When she’d turned twelve, she started to think of him as her boyfriend. Of course, she’d never told him that, but whenever her dad would rant and rave about all the time she was spending with her boyfriend, it had made her feel warm and fuzzy. Each and every time. “You’re right, but he doesn’t feel that way about me. Remember the letter and me pouring my heart out to him the summer I had to move? He hasn’t even mentioned that letter. I think he’s just looking at us as a ‘friends with benefits’ type of relationship. I’m sure he has a ton of women around him. He always has.”
“Have you brought up the letter to him?” Isla shook her head. “Why not? I think it’s real important you find out why he dissed you after you poured out your feelings.”
“Maybe I don’t want to hear him say that he never cared for me as more than a friend. The kiss was from a man who liked the way I looked. It had nothing to do with feelings.”
“How’s he acting now?” Madison took a bit of her sandwich.
“He’s ghosting me, but I think he’s pissed because I told him not to come over after recording. I told him the band was going to jam, and he didn’t believe me.”
“Why didn’t you ask him to come over and watch you guys jam?”
“Because Benz was going to be there. The two of them don’t mix.”
“If Sangre’s pissed about Benz, he must have feelings for you that go beyond friendship.”
“I don’t know. It’s complicated. Anyway, just because he may be caveman-like and want to fuck me doesn’t mean he has real feelings for me other than friendship. Haven’t you slept with a guy that you weren’t in love with?”
Nodding, Madison quirked her lips. “More times than I care to remember. I guess you need to figure out who you want in your life—Benz or Sangre. The answer may be neither, and that’s okay too.”
She sipped her macchiato. “I need to break it off for good with Benz. I’ve known that for a long while,” she said in a soft voice.
“How do you feel about doing that?”
“If I were in LA, I wouldn’t want to think about it. Not because I’m madly in love with him. Hell … I’m not even a little in love with him. I like Benz a lot. I admire his genius, his passion for music, his drive to succeed in a career that kicks your ass so much. But I’ve always been afraid of change even though I’ve had a lot of it in my life. Maybe that’s why I cling onto things even when they are decaying or dead.”
“To me, you’re one of the strongest people I know. You left your family, all that was familiar to you when you were just out of high school, and went to LA. That took courage, and to pursue your dream takes guts.”
“The weird thing is that I feel strong in some areas of my life and not so much in others. I guess the problem is that even though I live in a big city, sing in a band, and hang with friends, I feel lonely. It’s weird, but I feel less alone in Alina than I do in LA. The year before I crashed was horrible. I’m not quite sure how to describe it other than to say that time felt thick and viscous, and I felt stuck.” Isla propped her elbows on the table and shook her head. “I don’t know, but I don’t feel like my life in Alina is surreal. I know in my heart I have to break up with Benz. I don’t love him, and it isn’t fair to him. I also am still terribly attracted to Sangre, and even if nothing happens between us, my heart will be with him and not Benz.”
“It sounds like you have the answer.”
She breathed out slowly. “Yeah. The thing I’ve found the most surprising about change is that what was once fine for so long isn’t anymore. It’s amazing how suddenly that shifts.”
Madison put her hand on Isla’s, patting it. “I’m here if you need me. For what it’s worth, you’re doing the right thing. I always thought you shouldn’t have taken Benz back after he cheated on you.”
“And I think he’s doing it again. I guess I can’t blame him this time around. I haven’t wanted to be intimate with him. Last night he was so mad at me when I told him I needed to be alone. Arsen just threw me one of those looks before he pulled Benz out the door. I’ve known Benz for a long time. He helped me through some of the shit I was going through with my fucked up family.”
“Can’t you still be friends with him?”
“I suppose. We’ll just have to see. I’m good with it, but I’m not so sure about him.”
“And Sangre?”
Isla gave a half shrug. “I guess the ball is in his court.”
“It was the last time too, and you spent years trying to forget him. I’d go to his house and talk to him. Don’t make the same mistake twice.”
“He lives at his clubhouse.”
“Then go there. Don’t leave Alina without talking to him.”
Isla glanced at her phone again. Nothing. “I’ll have to think about it, but for now I’ve got to rework a few songs and write down another one that’s in my head.”
“A ballad?” Madison asked.
“Yeah. No surprise. Right?” Isla smiled. “Enough about me. Tell me about the fabulous trip you and Miguel are going on.”
Madison’s eyes sparkled. “We’re going to Martinique. The resort is to die for. Let me pull it up,” she said, taking out her phone.
“I’m so jealous. I want a tropical vacation in the worst way.” While Isla watched Madison search for pictures of the place, warmth spread through her. She was so happy that one of her best friends had found the love of her life. Sitting with Madison and spilling her guts out to her felt right and real. She didn’t have any friendships in LA that could even begin to compare to the one she shared with Madison. I’m going to miss all this when I go back.
“I found it.” Madison passed her phone to Isla. “Isn’t this the most spectacular place you’ve ever seen?”
Isla nodded, a thread of sadness wove through her when she saw the photo of a Mai Tai. Just call me, Sangre. “It looks beyond amazing.”
For the next two hours, the women laughed, talked, and ordered another round of caffeine pumping drinks. By the time Isla arrived at her house, happiness filled her instead of melancholy.
She pulled into the garage then came back down the driveway, waving at Carly and Letty who sat behind the lemonade stand. Two neighbors from across the street were in front of the booth, waiting for their purchases.
As she walked toward the stand, she saw a police car pull in front of her house, and her heart sank. The last person she wanted to see or talk to was Deputy Jeffers. The guy was a creep and assumed an awful lot of untrue things about her. She’d noticed that he’d been driving by her house, stopping to buy lemonade and watching her.
“Let me know if you need me to make any more,” she said to the girls as she rushed up her driveway, hoping to avoid bumping into Jeffers.
“Ms. Rose?” a deep voice called out.
She turned around and saw Sheriff Wexler, and a sense of calm washed over her.
“I need to talk with you.”
The calmness was short-lived as dread crept through her. “Is everything all right?”
“Let’s go inside.”
Did something happen to Sangre? Wait … if that were true why the hell would the sheriff be telling you about it? He’d go to his parents. Benz? Oh no. Please let everyone be okay. She opened the door, and Wexler followed her inside.
Gesturing for him to sit on the couch, she sat on the edge of one of the cushy chairs. “What’s going on? Did something happen to one of my band members?”
A small smile whispered across his lips. “I’m not here about that. I wanted to talk to you about Sharla Davidson, Taylor Prentice, and Lizbeth Kelly.”
Her muscles twitched, and she brought her hand to the base of her throat, fiddling with the silver necklace she’d bought in a small, eclectic shop on Melrose Avenue in West Hollywood. “Aren’t those the women who were killed?”
“Yes. I understand they went to Jefferson High School.”
“Yeah. They were all in the same grade as me. We used to be in a lot of the plays and musicals together.”
“Do you know Carrie Nolan?”
“Let me see.” She tapped her lips with her finger, mulling the name over and over in her head. If I hadn’t killed some of my brain cells with coke, my head would be a lot clearer. She laughed dryly then looked up at him. “Sorta. Can you refresh my memory?”
“She was in your class too. My understanding is that she was in the school choir.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to remember her. Then again, I wasn’t in choir, and she might not have been in any of my classes. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t in any of the musicals or any of the other theater productions I was in.”
“Did anyone in particular have a problem with you or the other women because you were in the plays?”
She tilted her head back. “Just the usual petty jealousy that’s present in high school. Some of the girls were mad that I kept getting the leads in the musicals.” Lexi’s face popped into her mind. “I can’t believe that all these years later one of them would do this because we were in the school plays. I mean how sick would that be?”
“Believe me, I’ve seen all kinds of sickos, and what doesn’t make sense to the average adjusted person, makes perfect sense to them. Have you noticed anyone watching you? I know you have security. Some of your neighbors have called me about strange cars parked in front of your house all night and day. I checked it out and found you employed Precision Security.”
“I did. I’d been getting crazy fan mail from someone, and it was persistent. It creeped me out, and I did feel like someone was watching me. I haven’t received any more of the letters since the bodyguards came on board.” Icy fear weaved through her. “Do you think the wacko who killed those women is the same one who’s been sending me the fan letters?” Goosebumps broke out over her skin, and she trembled in spite of the heat.
“I’m investigating any leads. Right now it seems that the common denominator with all the murders is Jefferson High. I’m warning you to be very careful. Do you still have the fan mail?”
“Yes. I’ll get them.” She rose up and went to the small built-in desk in the kitchen. She opened the bottom drawer and took out a shoebox. “Do you want something to drink? Water, lemonade, or iced tea maybe?”
“Water would be great. Thanks.”
She came back into the living room and handed Wexler the shoebox and a cold bottle of water.
He flashed a quick smile at her, took a gulp of water, and then opened the box. “I’d like to keep these.”
“Go ahead. Hopefully you can get some DNA off of the envelope.” She was going to tell him about the incident a few days before when her car broke down, but she didn’t actually see anyone; she sensed someone was watching and following her. She got the idea the person meant to harm her, but the sheriff would probably think she was a loon, so she kept quiet.
“When did you start getting these letters?” he asked, flipping through them.
“About a three weeks ago. I received some similar ones when I was in LA, but I didn’t get them as much as I have here. When I first got here, I stayed inside most of the time except to go to the grocery store. I sometimes even called and had my groceries delivered to me. I was totally incognito, but I’d emerged from my cave when my bandmates came to Alina. The letters started around then. The information that I’d returned to my hometown was shared on Instagram, so I was no longer invisible.”
“Do your bandmates know about the letters?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll need their names and phone numbers and where they’re staying while in town.”
She shook her head. “They have nothing to do with this. Why would any of them do this?”
“I just need to talk with everyone.”
“They weren’t even here when those other two women were killed. I wasn’t either.”
“I’m not accusing them of anything. I just need to talk with them.” He stared at her, the frown lines between his eyes deepening. She gave him the information, and after he jotted it down, he stood up. “Let me know if you receive any more letters or if anything out of the ordinary happens.”
“Okay.” She walked to the front door and opened it, watching him until he drove off. I wonder if I should’ve told him how one of his deputies keeps coming around here. I can’t believe this whole nightmare. Fear curdled in her stomach as she contemplated the possibility that the person who murdered the three women could be the same one sending her the letters. It was too horrible. She glanced over and saw Mark sitting in his car looking at her, and it calmed down her fears a bit. Isla closed the door and went back to the living room to work on a new song that kept swirling in her mind.
After several hours of writing, she stretched her arms over her head to loosen up the kinks. The room had grown dark, and she switched on a floor lamp near the chair she sat in. Standing up, her legs screamed from stiffness; the time had escaped her. Glancing at her phone, she was surprised that it was almost nine o’clock. There were a few texts she’d received while working, but none of them were from Sangre. He’s ignoring me. Well … fuck him.
She padded over to the hallway closet, took out her gym bag and terry cloth hoodie, and went to the garage. What she needed was to exercise her stiff muscles, and then take a relaxing swim in the pool to void her mind of all thoughts, especially the ones about Sangre.
After she pulled up in front of Fitness Gallery, she walked over to Mark’s car. He stepped out and waited for her, his head moving as he looked all around.
“I’m just going in for a quick workout and a swim. I should be inside for about an hour. Do you want me to call you when I’m ready to come out?”
“I can wait inside.”
“You don’t have to. I need the space. Remember Sangre said it was okay when I was in the gym?”
“All right. You have my number if you need me. No reason to call otherwise. I’ll be in front when you come out.”
Mark was all business. He never chitchatted or even cracked a smile with her. He was efficient, reliable, and capable, but she thought it a bit odd that he never engaged in any conversation with her. Keith would ask about the band or how she was doing, but Mark never did.
Nodding her head, she walked away and went into the fitness center. When she entered, she saw Scott sitting at the front desk reading a textbook. He looked up when she came up to the counter to swipe her card.
“You’re coming in late tonight,” he said.
“I lost track of time. I’ve been working on songs that have been stuck in my head for too long. What’re you studying?”
“Forensic Investigation. I’m getting a degree in Criminal Justice.”
“That’s cool. Where do you go to school?”
“I go to Fort Lewis College in Durango, but a lot of the upper division classes in my area are online. I’m taking a couple of summer school classes so I can graduate at the end of the year.”
“That’s awesome. I hope it all works out for you.”
“Thanks.” He threw her a wide smile, and she returned it then went into the weight room.
The first thing Isla did upon entering was glance around to make sure Devin wasn’t around. The last person she wanted to see was him. He was so pushy and aggressive, and he definitely didn’t catch on that she was flat out not interested in him at all. As she made her way over to the treadmill, several people looked at her, and a few of the women pointed at her, smiling. Not in the mood to engage in conversation, she opened her gym bag and rummaged for her ear buds and MP3 player.
“Did you just get here?”
Hearing Devin’s voice froze her in motion. Fuck. He’s always here when I am. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s planned rather than a coincidence. Turning around, his dark eyes bored into hers. “Yeah. I needed to chill out. My brain is mush, and I just need to get lost in my zone.”
His gaze roamed slowly over her body as though he was undressing her, and Isla cringed and clutched her duffel bag in front of her chest. “Your workouts are really paying off,” he said, leering.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not really in the mood to chat.” She backed away.
“You are being rude.” Hardness etched his voice.
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “No, you are. I told you I want to zone out and that I don’t feel like talking, and you don’t give a damn. You think you can bully or manipulate me to talk to you when I just told you I don’t want to,” her voice was loud and high pitched and a couple of men turned to look at her.
He pressed his lips together, his gaze raking over her body again, lingering on her breasts. “You’re even prettier when you’re mad. This is our first fight.” He chuckled.
She threw her ear buds into the gym bag and turned away from him.
“Where’re you going?” he asked.
“I’ve changed my mind about working out.” She pushed through the doors and stormed past Scott as she made her way to the pool.
“Wait,” Scott said.
She whirled around. “What is it?”
“The pool’s closed.”
“Seriously? I so need to decompress. I really need a swim.”
“Sorry.”
“Can I bribe you? I can give you two tickets to our show next week. Please?” She batted her eyelashes at him in an exaggerated way.
He laughed. “If you throw in an autographed CD by the band, I’ll give you forty-five minutes.”
“Deal.” Laughing, she winked at him as she opened the door leading down to the pool.
The minute she slipped inside the water, her limbs began to relax. Isla lay on her back floating, the water softly lapping around her as the lights from inside the pool cast wavering shadows on the ceiling. Bobbing in the water, she felt a tingle between her legs as the memory of her kiss with Sangre filled her mind. She was totally enthralled by him. She wanted him, every part of him, and she desperately wanted him to feel the same way about her. But the fact that he’d been dissing her since their kiss didn’t bode well. When she’d first seen him at the club after her band’s show, she’d thought he looked like a heart breaker and that she needed to stay away from him. That was before she knew he was Sangre, but she should’ve taken her own advice and kept their encounters at a minimum. He’s the only one who can shatter my heart. He’s done it before and now I’m letting it happen again.
Then she heard it. The soft shuffle of footsteps like a threatening whisper. Isla’s insides stiffened as she moved up, her legs treading water. Darting her eyes all around the room, she couldn’t see anything. Her pulse ramped up. It’s nothing. I’m imagining things.
But then footfalls clacked on the tiled floor. Louder.
The footsteps didn’t seem to come from any direction. Just a sound enveloping her in dread.
“Hello. Is anyone there?” her voice resounded through the room.
Nothing except for the sound of water and her panting.
The overhead lights dimmed. It was so slight that she thought she’d imagined it, but then a metal scraping sound—like nails on a chalk board, bounced off the walls.
Isla froze—all her breath trapped. She was most definitely not alone. Someone was there. Continuing to tread water, she strained to hear, but her heart pounded loudly. Tendrils of terror curled into her stomach. The shadows that played on the walls and ceilings earlier now took on grotesque, eerie shapes lending to the rising panic inside her.
The scraping sound stopped.
Isla doggie paddled to the shallower part of the pool until her feet touch the bottom. She stayed perfectly still, her knees bent, water tucked in around her chin. Despite the warmth of the water, her teeth chattered and she shivered.
After what seemed like an eternity, she began to relax just a little bit. I bet it was the pool’s heater turning on and off. I’m such a fuckin’ baby. Looking toward the dressing room, she decided to get out of the pool. She waded over to the pool stairs, gripped the cool banister, and took a step, pushing herself upward.
Then she heard it. A clicking sound like some people do with their tongues. Very faint at first but then louder and faster. She pushed backward into the water and swam to the middle of the pool. Why she did that, she had no idea. She only knew that she couldn’t get out and face whoever was tormenting her.
And someone was. Isla could feel eyes on her.
Water splashed around her as she spun around, checking out the entire room, a cry breaking from her lips.
That was when she saw the shadowy shape of someone against the wall.
Her pulse roared.
“Who are you? Leave me alone!” The echo of emptiness magnified her strained voice.
A rush of footsteps.
The lights went out plunging the room in darkness.
Isla screamed. I’m going to die. The killer is here. I hear him. He’s coming closer. Oh!
Then a flood of illumination from the overhead lights.
“Miss Rose? Are you okay?” Scott asked, standing in the doorway.
Confusion flashed through her. “What?” she murmured.
“I heard you scream. I’m just making sure you’re okay. Why were the lights out?”
Her limbs turned to jelly. “I don’t know. I think someone was down here.”
“You’re the only one who came down. The circuit must’ve blown. We had some problems in the fitness area too. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, then.” He turned around.
“Wait! Don’t go.” She swam to the pool steps. “I’m coming right out.” Isla pulled herself out and walked toward the dressing room. “I’ll just grab my stuff and walk out with you.” She dashed in, scooped up her clothes, and shrugged on her robe.
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Miss Rose. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m glad you came down. Something spooked me, that’s all. Are you sure you didn’t happen to see anyone coming down to the pool area?” She followed him upstairs.
Holding the door open for her, he shook his head. “Yup, but now that I think of it, someone could’ve slipped past me. I was pretty busy and had to leave the desk for a few minutes to help with one of the machines that was acting up. Was someone bothering you?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t see anyone. It was just a feeling I guess.”
He smiled. “It can definitely be spooky when you’re the only one in the pool. Sometimes when I go down there to lock up, all the noises and echoes give me the creeps, but that’s just between you and me.”
She laughed. “Your secret is safe. I’m sure that’s all it was. I’ll bring the tickets for next week’s show when I come back in a couple of days to work out.”
“Do you want me to walk you to your car?”
“Thanks, but I’m parked right in front.” She pointed to a black Kia Soul, relief warming her when she saw Mark’s vehicle. “I’ll see you.”
The whole drive home, she kept checking her rearview mirror, making sure Mark was behind her. The more she thought about what happened, the surer she was that someone had been trying to scare her. I didn’t imagine shit.
After she pulled into the garage, she tapped in Mark’s number.
“Is there a problem?” he said.
“No, not really. I’m just feeling kind of spooked. Can you come in and do a safety check?”
“Stay in your car. I’m coming now.”
When she saw him enter the garage, she slid out of the car. Feeling foolish, she shook her head. “I know I’m being silly, but sometimes I just get nervous.”
“No reason to explain anything to me. I’ll make sure everything’s secured.” He went in and walked around the whole house while she stood in the foyer chewing the dry skin on her thumb. When he finished, he nodded at her then went out the front door. She watched him get into his car then she set the alarm. Isla went over to the wet bar and poured a double shot of vodka, downing it in one long gulp.
She glanced at her phone, the urge to talk to Sangre overwhelming, but he hadn’t texted her back. Not even one sentence—he was ghosting her. Isla put the phone away and plunked down on the couch. What had happened that night reminded her of the night that her car had conked out. This wacko is playing a cat and mouse game with me. What the hell does he want from me? When is the cat going to catch the mouse?
She shuddered at the thought as she wrapped her arms around herself.
That night, sleep would not come easily.