A Test of Love: Interracial Erotic Romance (Chasing Love) (28 page)

That’s the shit I can never see. The masters. I can point out a puppet with no problem. It’s the motherfucking puppet masters who always get away.

I let out a long breath. “Answer something for me, Lucy.”

“Okay.”

“Black roses in the summer time.”
Music played from Chase’s bedroom.
“That’s how I felt when you said you weren’t mine.”

The volume increased, drowning out the headboard’s banging and thankfully, my sister’s moans. They must’ve figured out that everyone could hear their sexing from the hallway.

“Black grass, dark butterflies falling down to their death. Battered days and cold nights is all I have left.”

Because of the music’s blare, I walked over to Lucy and brought my lips close to her ear, enough to brush against them lightly. It hadn’t been what I intended. She smelled like strawberries with something sweet on top, but it didn’t move me like Viv’s scent did. Nevertheless, that accidental lip brush made things uncomfortable. Lucy jerked to the side in horror at being touched. Viv just about hissed and got into some sort of Kung Fu stance.

Chicks are crazy.

“My bad. I was just trying to whisper in your ear,” I said.

“That’s okay. I just don’t like to be touched, especially by people I don’t know.”

“Answer me something. What did you smell in Wendy’s glasses?” I asked.

Dread rose in her gaze. She checked the door with the green number two and mumbled back, “Nothing. I smelled nothing.”

“Nothing at all, right?”

“Yes. It was so strange. Sometimes I smelled hard liquor but not many times.”

“Why did you smell her glasses?” Viv tip toed our way.

“If there’s no rain, then it’s gray sunny days. Foggy abandoned roads. Forgotten photographs of better days.”

Wendy shrugged. “I just. . .”

“You just like to smell things, huh?” I guessed.

She directed her view to the floor. “Sometimes.”

On the videos, Lucy sniffed candles for hours. Sometimes Chase bought her odd perfumes and tons of scented candles. She had shelves with loads of fragrances. It had caught my eye because it reminded me of Viv and all of her buckets of bottles that she mixed together on any given day to create a new scent for her mood.

“It’s just something I like.” She gave me a weak smile.

“That’s cool. I’m not judging,” I said.

“So what does all of that mean?” Viv stepped closer to me, not enough to be between Lucy and I, but enough to make a point. Another inch and she would’ve been straight up putting her foot in the center to bump force us to back up. Viv’s alleged jealousy could’ve all been in my mind, but something deep within the secret areas of my heart was glad that she still wanted to claim me.

“You broke me down until there’s no sunlight.”
A sad little trumpet played along with the gloomy woman’s voice.
“No brightness in my day. No comfort in my night.”

I backed up to give us all some room. “I had lab tests done on Wendy’s bottles.”

“What is she drinking, liquid crack or something?” Viv asked.

“No.” I signaled for both of them to come closer to me just in case Wendy was listening and could somehow hear through the music. “Water. Her bottles were all filled with brown food coloring and water. She’s been acting drunk almost all of the time.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Lucy muttered. “But I couldn’t think of why she would want everyone to think she was drunk.”

“Didn’t you say she acted when she was a kid?” Viv whispered.

“Yeah, but that was religious stuff. Then she escaped that town and become someone else entirely. That’s when she became Wendy.”

“Ah.” Viv rolled her eyes. “The beautiful alcoholic, willing and able to deal with any bullshit handed to her as long as some cash and liquor were in her hand.”

Lucy sighed. “That sort of woman would be a prize in my world. Men like the kind that Chase work with, relish in control of their women. A lot of wives stay drugged up just to keep going each day.”

“Did Chase think he could control Wendy?” Viv asked.

“No.” Lucy leaned back into the wall behind her. “But Dawn thought she could control Wendy. She bragged about it to me sometimes and said that half the time she just poured Wendy a drink and she forgot about whatever problem rose.”

I thought back to all the videos I’d watched. Dawn did pour a lot of drinks at Wendy’s little bar in her apartment. Lucky for Wendy, it was all brown-colored water or poor Wendy would’ve had a serious alcohol problem.

So Dawn thought she could manipulate an alcoholic with liquor. That’s some twisted stuff. If she was capable of that, maybe she was able to do other underhanded things, like putting people in positions where she knew they would act in violent ways.

“Dawn and Wendy were lovers,” Lucy continued. “They used to let me watch them some nights. There was a deeper intimacy between them, then with Chase and Dawn or even Chase and Wendy.”

“Makes sense. They probably soothed each other a lot when Chase was giving them trouble,” Viv suggested.

“Oh, definitely,” Lucy said. “It was always Dawn who ran crying to Wendy. With all her drinking, Wendy barely went into crying fits, although she did fight with Chase a lot, but that was no big deal most of the time.”

I’d seen a few times when Dawn crawled into Wendy’s bed in the middle of the night. I could barely catch the whispering, but most of the time they made love and the video stopped. Chase’s people had the women’s entire sexual lives cut out of the footage. It aggravated me. Some of the best confessions and discussions happened on the pillows of couples that had just made love.

Dawn or Wendy probably planned a lot in those moments, but who was tugging whose strings? Which one of you was the master and who was the puppet?

“I always felt like a third wheel around Dawn and Wendy. Even though we would all go on girls’ trips together, they would sit in the corner and whisper while I usually kept the other girl company.”

“The other girl?” I asked.

“Chase had’ four girlfriends.” She bit her lip. “I try not to remember their names anymore.”

“So just the ladies would take trips, and on them Dawn and Wendy talked a lot and kept to themselves?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Were there cameras there?” Viv asked.

“No way. We would usually go to hotels or private islands that already had their own security.”

“And lots of privacy from Chase’s cameras.”

“Yes.” Something crossed Lucy’s face as if she’d just considered something that she’d never thought of before. “We took a trip the week before every girl died.” She covered her mouth. “I think. I’m almost sure of it. I know because Chase always scheduled waxes on the last day of our trips so that we would come back with bare legs. . .and everything else.”

Viv looked at me. “You see why I hate him?”

I chuckled. “They let him do that stuff. Jazz might have done it for the job, but now she won’t do that stuff unless she really wants to.” I signaled for Lucy to go on. “How do you know for sure about these trips?”

“Well, I’m the scheduler. It made me so busy. I had to get all my work done in time for the trip, then I had to make sure everyone had all of their spa appointments. The next week we would return, and I’d be making funeral arrangements and catching up on piles of work, which is pretty—”

“You had to do funeral arrangements after each girl’s trip?” Viv widened her eyes.

“Not everyone. I think we had two where nothing happened, but we took five in all. Three of those five trips happened before they died. I told Chase this. He thought it was unrelated. In all fairness, I’d been burning sage in the whole mansion and pissing everyone off.”

Considering what she said, I rubbed my face. “So Dawn and Wendy had plenty of time to talk and plot away from cameras. ’There’re too many coincidences. Wendy acts drunk but she’s a 100% sober the whole time. Do you remember taking something to the first girl’s room the night before she died?”

“My green smoothie? Yes. I figured that she should try to lift her spirits naturally.”

“Anything besides fruits and vegetables in the drink?” I asked.

“No way.”

“Was Wendy or Dawn around when you made it?” Viv asked.

“Wendy was, but she always hangs around when Dawn leaves on a business trip. She sat on the counter next to the blender while I cleaned the fruit, cut it up , and put everything in there to mix.”

“So Wendy could have dumped more sleeping pills into the blender?” Viv asked.

“Well. . .maybe.”

“Like I said, too many coincidences.” I sighed. “And Wendy just happened to be lovers with Dawn, who also had possession of that gun that Jazz was shot with. Or did you have the gun?”

“Black roses in the summer time.”
Jazz’s moans rode the lyrics, which made the song sound even darker.
“That’s how I felt when you said you weren’t mine.”

A wrinkle formed at the center of Lucy’s forehead. “What gun?”

“The George Washington gun.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lucy shrugged.

“Come on, Lucy. The gun Chase used to kill your father.” When the words left my lips, I knew I shouldn’t have said it that way. But I was so close to figuring out the whole picture, and it was too late to pull the words back.

Lucy cringed. She collapsed within herself, just crumbled within her core. Tears spilled out of her eyes. She screamed without sound, holding onto herself as if she was her own enemy. She scratched her arms. Red lines bruised her arms.

“Oh, shit. What do we do?” Viv scrunched her face in horror.

I reached out to grab Lucy. She shrieked. This time sound came out. It soared from her lips, so loud and high-pitched I thought the windows would break.

“Don’t try to touch her.” Viv trapped my hands next to her.

“No!” Lucy slid down to the floor and knocked the back of her head against the wall over and over. “No! No!”

“Black roses with sad little petals, puffed up in bloom. Empty chairs, plateless tables, and an unmade bed crowds my room.”

The music ceased’. I knew Jazz well enough to realize she’d be outside in a few minutes to make sure everyone was okay. Wendy even opened her door, came out, and leaned on the wall. She’d put on clothes now. Athletic wear. Her hair was slicked back like she’d taken a shower. I doubted she heard any of our conversation, though she still might have. I couldn’t get a read. I checked out her new sneakers, all green and outlined in white.

I hope you’re not planning to run from us, baby girl. Too many of us here are hungry to find the killer.

With a pissed face, Chase stormed out first. He had a female’s purple robe on. It was apparent he’d grabbed the first thing next to him as he moved in a rage of lust. He probably hoped a quick check outside would calm Jazz down and let him finish.

Not tonight man. You got your ex-chicks to deal with.

Lucy rocked and cried then rocked some more, mumbling incoherent words and wiping away her tears. None of us touched her or got to close.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chase stumbled out tying the fuzzy robe which barely fit him. The material stretched around his shoulders and looked about to rip open along his arms. As soon as he spotted Lucy, his mouth dropped. Lust left his eyes. Concern replaced his gaze. “Lucy, are you okay?”

“N-no.” She shivered. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.” She rocked.

“It’s okay, Lucy.” Step by step, Chase took his time getting over to her. “Can I call Dr. Thompson?”

Wiping her face, she nodded.

“Can I help you into your room?” Chase kneeled a little, which probably gave Lucy a view of what lay under that robe, but she didn’t notice it as her crying shifted to sobbing.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.” Chase extended his arm out. “I’m going to touch your arm. Is that okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, Lucy. Can I touch your arm?”

She nodded. He helped her up in the most delicate way possible, his fingers barely touched as he made sure plenty of space remained between them.

Too much crazy stuff was happening in such a short amount of time. But what did hit me as odd was that with all the chaos that occurred on the floor, Dawn had never opened her door.

“Dawn a heavy sleeper?” I asked Wendy.

“I have no idea. We never slept together.” She licked her lips real slow as if that were enough to snare me. I almost laughed at her lie and audacity with flirting.

Yeah, right. You don’t want my sort of trouble, baby girl.

“Maybe I should check on her then.” I went over to Dawn’s door and knocked right on the permanent-markered number one. No response. One more knock. Nothing. I turned the knob. If it had been locked, I would’ve picked it. The knob was such a simple thing to get through. There was no need. I turned it. The door clicked. I opened it.

Blood’s putrid aroma hit me first. I’d been around that murky liquid enough to never forget the scent. I had nightmares about blood—me drowning in it, being fed bowls of hot crimson sludge, and even a few where all of my own seeped out of my pores and I could do nothing but watch. There was no denying that odor.

I rushed in and closed the door behind me. If blood drenched the air, then death would soon follow. Viv had no business seeing death. Her eyes were too perfect and pure. That was the life I wanted her to maintain. No one should’ve seen the things that I’d witnessed in my life.

Dear God.

And no person should’ve had to see the gory scene that I stood in front of.

In Dawn’s bedroom, ringing sounded in my ears and deafened me from everything happening out in the hallway. Tiny bits of flesh and human remains rested on Dawn’s bed. How else could it be described? Hamburger meat among bones. A desolation of anything that had ever been human or alive. This thing that lay in front of me was wrong—perfect pea-shaped pieces of flesh amidst torn veins and smattered organs. Only a madman could stand along someone and do this with no worry or feeling of guilt in his heart.