It's A Shame (19 page)

Chapter
18

I opened my eyes
and immediately closed them. The sun was strong as it penetrated the silk curtains, lighting a trail from the window to the bed where I lay. I sat up and took a deep breath as I stretched my arms out. The intoxicating smell of fresh coffee wafted into the bedroom, and like I was under a magical spell, I stood and robotically walked over to the chair and grabbed my robe, wrapping it around me. While I was tying the sash around my waist I caught a glimpse of something shiny and held my hand up.

I looked at the
most perfect ring, that perfectly fit my finger and I got downright giddy.
I’m his… he is mine
. The thought reverberated within my sleep-laden mind making me as ecstatic as a little kid on Christmas morning. I became so excited I was finding it hard to not jump up and down and scream with joy. Those butterflies have nothing on this.
I am going to be Mrs. Cole Grayson.

I
had everything I’ve ever wanted. There wasn’t anything else I could possibly need.

I shuffled my way
out of the bedroom towards that enticing scent, the pads of my bare feet tapping lightly along the wooden floor.

“Good morning Mr. Grayson
,” I said groggily.

“
And good morning to you, future Mrs. Grayson.” He looked up at me as I approached, and smiled, his eyes lighting up his entire face. My stomach lurched, and as the adrenaline surged through me, I shivered.

“That was a little cumbersome…huh?” I laughed, my eyes still half closed.
“‘Grace Grayson’. Sounds like a comic book damsel, Superman’s gal pal or something.”

“Hey, hold on there,
that’s my future wife you’re talking about,” he said playfully using his best cowboy twang. “
She is faster than a Wal-Mart shopper, more powerful than a speeding cabby, able to leap
…”

“Whoa…cowboy. H
ere in Mighty Metropolis there aren’t any Wal-Marts,” I laughed.  “I don’t know what flies for style in the Midwest, but if you think for one second I’d be caught dead in a Wal-Mart, well, we Metropolites just won’t stand for that shit…”

He walked over and lifted me up
high, then loosened his grip, letting me slowly slide down the length his body. When our lips were aligned he covered my mouth with his.  Warm lips that tasted so sweet, so full of promise, claimed my own. His tongue slid along my lips gently spreading them as it darted into my mouth finding its mate.

I melted into him
molding my body to his, noticing the fit was perfect, as if it were custom made. The power of that kiss took me by surprise, stealing the strength from my legs. Now that we were engaged, I was astounded by how different everything was, even our kisses. We were bound to one another by a promise. Now forged as a united front. Strong. Confident. I couldn’t help my sappy smile.
It felt pretty damn good to be me.

“You were saying
?” He pulled his lips away achingly slow, and his eyes lit up as he smiled victoriously.

“Okay…this one time we will
take whatever shit you give us.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and bit his bottom lip.

“Ouch
!” He pulled away and tried to bite me back. “You fight dirty in Mighty Metropolis.” He licked my lips and my mouth opened, and without a second of hesitation, his tongue delved inside. I felt the instant tightening in my core and I was suddenly hungry…but not for food. My pulse quickened, sending an inordinate amount of blood rushing to the sweet spot right where my legs met.

Just then t
he doorbell rang…and all hell broke loose. The frying pan on the stove started smoking like crazy, and the smoke detector started blaring.

Cole
grabbed a magazine from the counter and was waving it frantically back and forth, fanning the smoke away, in an attempt to stop the loud obnoxious noise. The doorbell rang again. I ran to the closet. Flinging it opened and grabbed a broom, then walked quickly back into the kitchen. I took the stick end and jabbed like a madwoman at the blaring beast on the ceiling.

Cole
answered the door to cease the bell from ringing. The smoke detector broke apart, falling into plastic shards onto the floor. The battery fell out and skidded along the tile floor bumping against the wooden molding.

“That’ll get you ten in the big house.”

That voice was all too familiar and I didn’t even have to turn around to know who was standing behind me. However, I spun around and saw Dean in my foyer, his partner Carry Verdi stoically at his side. The three of them stood there and watched me as I lowered the broom.

Normally I would laugh at how ridiculous I looked at that particular moment
, but a feeling of dread sent a cold chill running up my spine, ending with an all too familiar feeling of unease.

Cole
quickly walked over to the stove moving the fry pan to the other burner and turned off the gas, but it was too late, the entire apartment was clouded in thick grey smoke.

“Shit…burnt the fuc…the eggs
,” he sputtered. His head snapped up. His eyes level with Dean’s. “What brings you guys here?” he asked impatiently.

“Someone’s cat gone missing
?” I asked the pair. Although I could see from the expression on Dean’s face he was not in a playful mood.

“
Too funny,” he replied dryly. He was quiet, which for Dean, Detective Johansen, was not the norm.

“Seriously what’s brings you both here?” Cole asked the duo
. The tone in his voice bordering on the serious, which told the pair he was finished parrying. When he received no response he offered, “Coffee?”

He walked back over and stood next to me.

“Wow, looks like breakfast is a bust,” Carry Verdi said, raising her hand half-smiling. “I’ll take a cup.”

“You’re not in school Carrie
,” Dean mumbled under his breath.

“Yeah…
I had more pressing matters I guess,” Cole replied to Detective Verdi, ignoring Dean’s comment. He looked at the fry pan, then back at me squeezing my hand. He pulled me closer and draped his arm possessively over my shoulders. He held me to him for several seconds then, regretfully, released me to pour four cups of coffee.  He added cream and sugar to my mug and handed it to me.

“Help yourselve
s.” Cole looked to them, pouring just a bit of milk into his cup, and walked back over to where I stood.

“Thanks
,” Carry said as she poured cream and shoveled three teaspoons of sugar into her mug.

“Black
,” Dean instructed Carry when she turned and looked at him.

“I know how you like it, Dean
. Do you want one?” she asked. “Such a cranky bastard,” she added under her breath. That got her a glowering look from her partner, who apparently heard her.

“Sure.”

“I’m sure you’re not here investigating smoke detector vandalism and fire code violations, Dean… or should I say Detective Johansen?” My eyes bore into his.

He
shifted uncomfortably. His relationship with my best friend was hot and heavy, and here he was standing in my kitchen with his partner, Detective Carrie Verdi, and I was certain it wasn’t a social call.

“Grace…” He stopped,
apparently searching for the right words, which for Dean was not something he was typically called upon to do. He was as straightforward as they come. “I need to speak with Cole…alone.”

Cole took a step forward
, his arm never leaving my shoulder, “She stays with me.”

Dean took one look at Cole’s expression and knew not to insist.

He glanced in my direction as I brought my coffee cup up to my mouth.

“Nice rock
,” he pointed out. I shook my head as I realized nothing got past his mans eyes.

“Really
? Wow, congrats you guys,” Detective Verdi said. Dean shot her a look, which looked like he was warning her not to mix business with pleasure.

I looked at
the hand holding my cup, totally surprised that I had momentarily forgotten I was now engaged. 

Shit, Michelle would kill me if
she knew that Dean found out before she did,
but I was snagged.

“Yes…it is.
It’s beautiful.” I glanced up lovingly at Cole then back down at the ring again, and once more those excited butterflies fluttered inside my stomach. “As of last night I am the future Mrs. Cole Grayson… Sounds nice, don’t you think?” I bantered.

“Yeah.” His tone had chan
ged; his monosyllabic answer caused me pause.

“Let’s
cut through the bullshit, why are you here Dean?” Cole jumped in.

“Cole…
” Dean looked at me, then back at Cole, and shifted his weight to his other foot, “The body of a woman was found early this morning.  She’d been murdered.” He stared directly into Cole’s eyes, watching for a reaction…any reaction.

“And this has something to do with me how?”
Cole countered.

“She was found with your business card, some pictures and a birth certificate
in her wallet and a Post-It with your office number on it…” Dean trailed off, his eyes never leaving
Coles.

I dropped my mug. Coffee shot everywhere, down the front of me
, the walls, and floor. Some even managed to fly far enough to get on Dean’s trousers.

“Lauren….” I trailed off.
“Oh my God...” came out in a whisper as I raised my hand to my mouth.

“Yes, Lauren Buckley.
” He said smugly as he looked at me with narrowed eyes, then back at Cole. Seems he was searching for some type of a response that would let him know if he were barking up the wrong tree. I could see Cole’s face blanch, but he quickly recovered. Dean faced his partner with a triumphant look in his eyes, then back in our direction.

All business.

“Like I said, we found her driver’s license in her purse, along with other things, credit cards, money. Looks like robbery wasn’t the motive.”

“How was she killed…when?” Cole asked
, his voice steely cold.

“All that has yet to be determined, her body was taken to the morgue.”

“How was she killed Dean, I’m tired of fucking around here!” Cole barked at Dean, looking for a fight, practically begging for it.

“She was bludgeoned.” Dean looked at his partner. “Blunt force trauma to the head.”

“Where?” Another command.

“Cole…shit…” Dean put both hands in his pockets and looked up.
One was more stubborn than the other.

All I know is i
f he were looking at me like he was glaring at Dean, I’d tell him what he wanted to know in a heartbeat. Cole was intense to say the least.

“Dean, I’m not asking.” Cole stood his ground.
I could feel his muscles tense under my fingers. He was getting angrier by the moment.

“Her hotel room
, at the Waldorf.” Dean said calmly. Almost as though he methodically planned for each response. He removed his phone from his pocket, and looked at it briefly before placing it back into his jacket. Cool as a cucumber.

“
We believe she knew her assailant,” he stated matter-of-factly. “No signs of struggle, no forced entry. The victim, Lauren Buckley, had no defensive wounds.” Dean looked at me and for a minute I felt like I was also in the hot seat, and would need to account for my whereabouts. “Makes me think she either knew the murderer or she didn’t fear the murderer. I’m leaning towards the former.”

I shook my head in disbelief.
My knees felt wobbly and I wasn’t sure how long I could portray the woman who had no fear.

“She had sustained a
blow to the back of her head. We found a lamp base in the room with her blood and hair, and since there wasn’t any sign of struggle, well…anyway she obviously turned her back on her attacker, not fearing what was behind her, which to me means she was not afraid. That’s my
own
opinion.”

“I was never in her room.”

“Not a robbery. Personal effects were in her purse. Her money was in her wallet along with her credit cards.”

“I was never in her room.
Did you get any prints? What did you find?”

“I’m no
t at liberty to discuss anymore, Cole. Shit, my hands are tied here Goddamn it.”

“
As are mine Dean,” Cole looked directly at Dean, challenging him; then turned his head, “Detective Verdi.” With a shake of his head he informed her, “I’m not saying another word without my attorney present.”

For a second I thought I was losing my mind.
Seriously losing my mind. Jonathan, then the fingers, the break in to my apartment…my mind just snapped, and it wasn’t pretty.  It was as if I were flung into the middle of a murder mystery. Like the butler in the kitchen with the fry pan…the ex in the hall with the knife and before I knew what was happening, I broke out in hysterical laughter.