Scorned Page 11

  “Did she give you the name of this former employer,” Reed asked. Thornton took a deep breath and regretfully said no. “Well, you can’t touch his office then. Was there anything else?”

  “The video also showed another woman inserting herself between Ambrose and Ms. Fuller.” It was our only other shot to getting the warrant and wasn’t about to let Thornton screw it up. “When questioned about it, Ms. Fuller said she didn’t know the woman and was checking out her bag. We believe this was a diversionary tactic.”

  “Why would this woman cause a diversion?”

  “We believe Ambrose slipped something into the drink that was meant for Ms. Fuller. The mystery woman must have seen it and tried to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

  Stacy Reed tapped her fingers nervously on the back of her chair. Hearing about Ambrose participating in something so heinous didn’t seem to faze her, but accusing him, even after death, had her rattled. “Did you physically see Ambrose slip something into the drink?”

  Thornton chimed in before I could answer. “We didn’t see what he put in there, but we did see him on camera reach into his pocket and drip something into one of the shot glasses.” It was an outright lie. The video I saw had Ambrose walking towards a table, but we weren’t able to see what he was doing. We could only speculate. “Ms. Fuller confirmed that Mr. Ambrose appeared very intoxicated after drinking for only a half hour. He eventually let it slip that Ms. Fuller had no way of winning her case.”

  We all knew Blake Ambrose promised to work the case only to get close to the woman. He never intended to file the paperwork or to actually bring the case to trial. This was a rumor we all heard about but could never prove. It was his way of breaking the ice and getting the potential client to sleep with him. Then he would pawn it off onto someone else at the firm.

  A.D.A. Reed backed away from her desk and began pacing the room. Her index finger lightly tapped her lips while she contemplated placing a call in to a judge. “Okay, I’ll call the court house and speak to a judge to expedite a search warrant for Blake Ambrose’s house. You better find something, liquid vials, drugs, or anything of that nature.” Reed’s hand hovered over her phone. “Could you please wait outside for a moment?”

  Her request was a bit odd. I’ve worked with other A.D.A.’s in the past and none of them kicked me out of the office just to call a court house. I knew something was up, but didn’t have a second to investigate my suspicions.

  Thornton was all over me before I had a chance to eavesdrop. “So things didn’t go exactly as I planned, but I got the job done.”

  “By lying to her,” I whispered angrily. “You realize we could get in a lot of trouble if anyone checks that tape and doesn’t see him pour anything into drink.”

  “Relax, we needed to get the search warrant and it worked.”

  “Don’t be too sure of yourself yet. She still has to convince the judge. Even if we do get it, the defense would rip our case to shreds if they knew the truth. Any evidence we uncover would be inadmissible.”

  “I’m not worried.” He might not have been, but I was. This was our last chance to get a warrant for Blake Ambrose’s house and office. It had been almost a week since his death. I was sure his loyal secretary had already been trying to find and destroy anything negative Ambrose was associated with.

  The door opened a moment later. A.D.A. Reed stepped out of her office. Her eyes flickered between Detective Thornton and me. “There’s nothing that can be done today or this weekend. All of the judges were either in session or were unreachable. I did make an appointment for Monday morning.”

  Panic set in. Our moment to shine a light onto Ambrose’s deceitful ways was about to be extinguished. “We can’t wait that long. There’s no telling how much his secretary has already tampered with. If we wait until Monday, there’s no telling if there’ll be anything left for us to find.”

  “Then I suggest you find a way to make sure that doesn’t happen.” A.D.A. Reed opened her office door, grabbed her jacket and briefcase, and stormed towards the elevator. “Have a great weekend detectives.”

  Her remark and advice was directly meant to punish us for bothering her this late on a Friday. We jeopardized her weekend, now she was doing the same to us.

  Thornton flashed his green eyes at me and raised his eyebrows. “I guess I’ll see you Monday then.”

  “Oh no, you’re not getting off the hook that easily. We’re going to be housesitting this weekend. I’ll call ahead and have someone keep an eye on the secretary while we make sure no one touches his house.”

  “Wonderful,” he moaned while shuffling towards the elevator. His finger pushed the down button. A loud ding rang over our heads and the doors slid open. He stepped inside. “I’ll meet you at the station. It’s a date.”

  The suggestion of spending any time with Detective Thornton made me queasy. The fact that he insinuated it was a date made my skin crawl. The doors closed before I could object to the notion. I was left there biting my lip trying to stop myself from smashing my fist into the wall.

  Instead of getting mad, I decided to get even. I took my cell and dialed Rodney’s number. “Hey, if it isn’t my favorite partner.” At least this time I could honestly say that without the joke being implied.

  “Uh oh, what do you need Ali?”

  “Can’t a girl just call her friend, her partner without there being some hidden motive?”

  “Not when that person is you.”

  Damn, he knew me too well. “I need a favor. We can’t get the search warrants we need for the Ambrose case til Monday. We’re sitting on his house and his secretary this weekend. Can you meet Detective Thornton at Ambrose’s house?”

  “Why can’t you do it?”

  “I’m going to tail the secretary.”

  Rodney let out a deep sigh. “Fine, I just gotta tell the wife and kids that daddy won’t be home this weekend.”

  He was trying to guilt me into letting him off the hook. As much as it pained me to do it, we needed to make sure no one tampered with either location more than it already had.

  “Sorry partner, we’re both giving up our weekends this time.”

  ************************************************************

  The stilled silence of my car pained me with regret as I pulled up to my house. I knew it would be another night without Matthew. It had been too long for us to go without speaking to each other, which meant this time I really screwed up. I hated when we fought. I hated coming home to an empty house, but more than that, I hated not being around him. Thankfully the lights were on tonight. There wasn’t a need for me to go searching blindly from room to room with my gun.

  The feint sound of music filled the night sky. I walked up my front steps, slid the key into the lock and prayed Amanda wasn’t throwing a party. The door opened to the deafening sound of loud rock and punk rock music. My eyes darted around the living room. It was empty and void of any beer bottles, cans, food or trash. It was a relief to find no one there, but something felt off about the house being that clean. The carpeted floors had line marks that indicated they were recently vacuumed. There were no dishes in the sink, the counters were immaculate and the tiled kitchen floor had a nice shine to it.

  “Hello,” I shouted. “Anyone here?” There was no response, just loud music pumping through the speakers in Amanda’s room. I walked towards the sound and found Amanda’s door wide open. I peaked inside. The bed had the comforter tossed against the windows. The pillows were stacked in the corner of the room. But unlike last week, someone had removed all the junk from the floor. “Amanda, are you here?”

  The door to my left opened. Steam billowed out from the bathroom as a thin pale raven haired girl appeared in a fresh white cotton towel. She jumped back tying the top of the towel across her chest. “Shit Ali, you need to stop scaring the hell out of me.”

  “Maybe if you turned down your music…” I wanted to complain more about the music, but it was hard to be mad at her. A
manda had done more in one day than she had in six months. I followed Amanda into her room and turned down the music. “Did you do all the cleaning?” She nodded which confirmed what I already thought. “Thank you.”

  She shrugged it off. “I was bored and needed something to do.” For once her inability to cope with life worked in my favor. I know that’s mean to say, but it was nice to have someone help out around the house for once.

  A blue denim skirt, a low cut black tank top and black heeled boots that came up to the middle of Amanda’s shin were displayed on a chair. “You going out somewhere,” I asked.

  She shied away while slipping into a white thong and raised it underneath her towel. “For your information, I’m going out to a bar tonight with some old friends from college.” She slipped the blue denim skirt on next until it was hidden as well. She dropped the towel and wrapped her black bra around her body.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Amanda pulled the tank top over her head before taking a seat in the chair by her desk. “Yeah, why not?”

  “I just don’t think going out to bars or clubs are going to help…”

  I could see the annoyance building within her. “That’s not your decision to make.” She pulled the boots closer and slipped a foot into each, zipping them up on the sides. “Besides, you’re the one who told me I needed to get out more.” She stood up and walked over to the mirror. My little sister was gone and was replaced by some sexy look alike.

  There was nothing more I could say. She was determined to go out, have fun and get drunk. In reality, she just wanted to be like a normal twenty-two year old. “Just be safe and don’t drink too much.”

  Amanda wrapped her arms around my neck and lovingly embraced me. At least one of us could enjoy the night.

  Chapter 15-Claire

  The sleek cobalt blue Camaro pulled up in front of Claire’s house just before ten. Sheila jumped out of the passenger seat. Her long blond hair landed perfectly on her shoulders next to the straps of a leopard print dress. Her four inch black and gold plated heels clicked against the pavement as she approached the front door. One press of the yellow glowing button elicited a response from the doorbell. The door opened seconds later with Claire ready to go.

  “Well, this is a first,” Sheila said with a shock of surprise in her voice. “Usually we gotta bang on your door twenty times or more before you answer it.” Her eyes took in Claire’s hot red dress and her three inch strappy peep toe heels. The smile on her face was evident, Claire was on top of the world and nothing was going to kill her mood.

  Rebecca strutted up the walkway with the same look of amusement and shock on her face. “Damn girl, you’re looking hot tonight. You’ll need to beat the guys with a stick to keep them at bay.”

  Claire had no interest in meeting a guy. She wasn’t even entertaining the thought of hooking up with anyone, especially someone she met at a club. The two women stood before her, both looking like someone on the hunt to bring someone home to play with. As tempting as Sheila’s dress was, Rebecca’s was just as seducing. She stood in a lacy black top that barely covered “the girls” and a skirt that came low enough to leave little to the imagination.

  Sheila put her arms around her friends and brought them into a hugging pose. “We’re three sexy bitches, and I think it’s time we let all of Kingston know that.” The trio marched down the path to the Camaro. The sound of loud bass pumping house music filled the car to a deafening level.

  It took them an hour for them to arrive at Club Steel. It was further than the clubs they frequented, but knew partying with V.I.P. status was a one-time deal they couldn’t pass up. Rebecca led the way and gave her name at the door. With a bit of grace, she leaned on her tip toes and whispered the name of her client into the bouncer’s ear. He radioed it in and escorted the trio into the club.

  Club Steel had a surprisingly good turnout for only a quarter after eleven. Crowds of people waited outside while those inside were doing their best to get a bartender’s attention. Flashing neon lights swirled the room, moving to the beat of ear splitting music. Claire could barely hear either of the girls as they followed the bouncer to their sectioned off table. It wasn’t anything special to her. In Claire’s mind, the V.I.P. section was nothing more than a large booth that could fit a dozen people in it that happened to be roped off with security ensuring no one bothered them.

  “Rebecca wasted no time in ordering a bottle of patron and a bottle of vodka for her and the girls. “You ordered two bottles,” Claire questioned.

  “He told me drinks were on him tonight. He might stop by later to celebrate with us.”

  “Who is this mystery guy,” Sheila asked.

  Rebecca waved off the questions and danced in front of the booth with her hips swaying seductively from side to side. “Who cares? He set this up for us, told them to get us whatever we wanted and told us to have a great time on him.”

  Sheila shrugged and started bouncing on her toes to the sound of the music while throwing her fist in the air.

  Claire was the more skeptical one of the group and continued to wonder why some guy that she didn’t know and that barely knew Rebecca would offer to pay for the three of them to have an incredible and expensive night out, all expenses paid.

  One of the male bartenders showed up carrying a tray filled with a bucket of ice, three glasses, a salt shaker, lime wedges, a bottle of orange juice, the bottle of vodka and the bottle of tequila. Sheila wasted no time in checking out the hunk that brought them their drinks. Her hands wrapped around his massive arms begging him to stay and party with them for a bit. He tried to shy away from her, but her big pouty lips made him decide to stay for a shot or two.

  The bartender took one shot of tequila with Sheila and tried to slip away. Her hand jutted out and grabbed his. “You can’t leave without doing a doing a body shot with me.” The bartender smiled and decided to stay, especially if that meant body shots were on the menu.

  Sheila grabbed the salt shaker and dangled it in front of the bartender playfully. “Do you wanna do me first?”

  Claire was sickened by Sheila’s antics. She averted her eyes just as the bartender’s tongue licked and massaged the spot on Sheila’s neck where the salt had been placed.

  “We’re here not even ten minutes,” Claire shouted to Rebecca who could barely hear her over the music.

  “Loosen up,” Rebecca replied. She saw the look on Claire’s face and stopped dancing. She placed her mouth near Claire’s ears and whispered to her. “I know what you told me, but you need to lighten up for once.”

  Claire pulled back. She hated being reminded of what she went through. It was something she did her best to forget. The only friend that knew was Rebecca and she chose the one night Claire decided to go out to a club to bring it up. She was ready to leave, but had no way of getting home. She picked up one of the glasses and fixed herself a weak tasting screwdriver. She put a fake smile on her face and raised the glass to Rebecca.

  Rebecca went back to jumping up and down with her hands in the air which was what she referred to as dancing. Guys were taking notice of her as she almost bounced out of her top several times. They were toasting to her and asking if they could come up. The bouncer was having a hard time trying to keep the creepers at bay.

  After a few minutes of body shots and making out, Sheila allowed the bartender to go back to work. She was done with him, for now anyway. She rejoined her group of girls and filled their hands with more drinks.

  “This place is awesome,” Sheila shouted. She looked at Claire and cocked her head to the side, disappointed that she wasn’t as enthusiastic as her friends were. “You having fun?”

  “Not as much as you are,” Claire joked.

  “That’s because you’re not putting yourself out there. Let’s get you a guy to dance with. Maybe that’ll loosen you up a bit.”

  Claire tried to object, but it was too late. Sheila was already picking out a good looking man from the crow
d. He didn’t look as drunk as the others that were vying for the girls’ attention. He was dressed in a button down emerald green shirt and khaki pants. Sheila was waving him forward and whispered to the bouncer to let him in.

  The bouncer stepped aside and removed the velvet rope. The man started up the steps and was greeted by Sheila. She whispered something into his ear as she escorted him to meet her friends.

  Rebecca stared at him like she was about thrown him down on the table and mount him in front of everyone. Then Sheila walked him to Claire.

  “Davis, this is my good friend and my boss Claire.” He extended his hand which Claire reluctantly grabbed. “I’ll let you two get acquainted.” Sheila pulled a pouting Rebecca away.

  “Care for a drink,” Claire timidly asked.

  “Sure, what do you have?”

  “I don’t know, Becky always gets a little carried away with what she orders.” Claire picked up the bottles and showed them to Davis. His eyes lit up when he saw tequila.

  “You wanna do shots?”

  Claire didn’t like the idea of drinking alone with this guy and really didn’t want to sit around doing shots with some guy she just met.

  “I’m not really a shot drinker.”

  “Okay, let me make you a drink then.” This didn’t sit well with Claire either, but she allowed him to make her one anyway. Davis took her glass and placed two ice cubes in it. He then filled it up a quarter of the way with vodka. It was a little much for her, but Claire could handle it. Davis took the orange juice and a bottle of cranberry juice that someone just brought up. He splashed both inside the glass filling it up a little more than half way. Then he took another bottle and topped off the drink with a little tequila.

  He’s trying to get me drunk; Claire thought. She smiled and held the glass. Not wanting to be completely rude, she took a sip to appease her unwelcomed guest. She grimaced at the horrendous taste and placed the drink back on the table. Claire stuck her tongue out in distain for the concoction.