Distortion Control (A Makayla Rose Mystery Book 3) Read online

  “I called in a few favors,” he told me with as much self-importance as possible, I’m sure.

  “And did you get the judge to change his mind?” I wanted to cross my fingers like a child but resisted the impulse. After all, my legs were already crossed. He didn’t need to know the significance I willed into the action for luck.

  Paul grinned. “Yeah. He’ll be out in a couple hours, but he’s going to owe me big time.”

  I shivered, wondering what favors he had called in and what the man who seemed pretty ruthless to me would ask of Spencer somewhere down the line. I began to wonder how much of his claim to innocence of the crimes his uncle had committed was actually true.

  “Thank you so much for your help, Paul. I don’t know if you’ve spoken to Spencer and if he’s thanked you properly, but I for one am grateful. Is there anything else I need to do to facilitate his release?”

  He frowned. “No. I did want to speak to Ash, but he’s not answering his phone.”

  “He has a bad habit of that.”

  “When you see him, tell him to call me.”

  “Will do.”

  We spoke a little longer about his plans to continue to represent Spencer. To my surprise, Spencer hadn’t told him to get lost now that he would be free to select his own lawyer. Maybe he was grateful after all. Afterward, I thanked him again and headed to the studio. I spent several hours trying to keep myself busy and not think of Spencer. He would call me when and if he wanted to. In addition, since he had been held at his work place, he wouldn’t need a ride home. Paul had informed me he had arranged for someone to bring Spencer’s vehicle to the station. I wasn’t needed.

  At five, I headed home and showered then put together a quick and simple dinner. Eating it in front of a TV show I couldn’t focus on, I let my mind wander. Memories drifted over me, but none gave clarity to what had happened.

  A knock at the door startled me to almost dropping my plate, and I glanced down at it. The chicken had gone cold and so had the potatoes and corn. I sighed and set the dish down to see who was at the door. Hopefully, it wasn’t Talia. I wasn’t in the mood for her caustic tone.

  A check through the peephole stole my breath, and I drew away from it, heart in my throat. When I had gathered myself, I unlocked the door. Was he taller, or was it my imagination?

  “Spencer,” I breathed.

  “Hey.” He grinned, and I itched to shut the door on him because boy oh boy did it come clear to me how I felt about him. No denying it, at least to myself.

  “You’re out.” Good one, Makayla. Don’t give it away, for Pete’s sake.

  “Can I come in?” he teased.

  I stepped back and widened the opening. He moved past me. His natural scent tickled my nose, and I picked up a hint of soap and shampoo. Of course he had gone to his own house to wash off the grime and atmosphere of the jail cell. If it were me I’m sure I would still be in there sobbing beneath the spray. Okay, Spencer probably wouldn’t sob.

  His back was to me as he walked farther into my apartment, and I followed, expecting him to keep going. When he spun around, he took me off guard. I couldn’t protect myself from the touch of his hands at my hips as he drew me into his arms.

  “W-what are you doing?” I stuttered, my head lowered, nose in his chest.

  Somehow I found the will to push him back, but only a little. I thought I had escaped until his lips touched mine. My knees weakened. I let him kiss me, shutting my eyes, and when I began to lose myself, I drew away. The couch seemed like a good barrier to keep between us.

  Spencer followed me with his gaze, but he stood where I left him. “I’ve been thinking about how to prove myself to you.”

  “You should be thinking about how to prove your innocence.”

  “That, too.”

  I cleared my throat. “Paul says you’ll owe him.”

  “I’m not worried about that.”

  “He’s part of the mob.”

  “So he told you.”

  I stared at him. “You knew. That’s what you two were arguing about that time.”

  “Yes, but it’s immaterial to my case.”

  “Unless he wants you to put a hit on someone a month after he gets the charge removed.”

  He laughed. “Don’t be dramatic, Makayla. I’m going to keep him on. Heck, he got me out. That’s good enough. I’ll take it from here.”

  “Meaning you want me off the case.”

  “I want you safe. I’ll do whatever I have to to keep you safe.”

  “Don’t with the warm and fuzzies.” I moaned and touched the bridge of my nose. “You’re so open and understanding now that you’ve been charged with murder. The lengths a woman must go to!”

  “And you never cease to entertain me.”

  “I’m not the court jester.”

  “No.”

  I don’t know when he moved. He just appeared before me, too close for me to think straight, and his darn hands ended up on my hips again.

  “Let me stay the night,” he offered.

  I blinked at him. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I want to hold you.”

  I took his hand and tugged him toward the door, opened it, and gestured. “Good night, Spencer.”

  He appeared shocked. “Makayla, this isn’t what either of us wants.”

  “Be that as it may…”

  He hesitated until I wondered if I would cave in because he was right. I didn’t want him to leave. He needed to, for my sake. At last, he stirred and strode out the door. Before I could change my mind or he could, I gently shut the door and locked it.

  Chapter Eleven

  I held up a negative to the light with the rest in my other hand. A smiling image of my client greeted me with ghostly eyes on the brown film. Special orders that were taken with my Canon were rare, and I savored each one as if it were a newborn baby.

  The front door to my studio burst open, and Louisa shrieked my name. The “babies” flew in every direction and scattered over the carpet. I cried out and pressed a hand to my chest. “What is it, Louisa? You scared me half to death.”

  Her eyes were wide with panic, and her face pale. Dread stole over me. Louisa ran the hair salon next door to my studio, but she had been raised to believe she and her two closest friends were a cut above the rest of the citizens of the small town. She had changed over the last few months from a cold, arrogant woman to almost a friend. Still, she remained sensible in the face of panic among her peers. I worried about what could have upset her. “It’s Zoe.”

  I started to my feet. “What about her?”

  Louisa peered over her shoulder, and I strained to see past her as if the devil himself might be there. I hoped not because I wasn’t ready to meet my end, and I certainly hoped I would go up and not down.

  “She was found in the alley behind the bookstore.”

  “F-found?” I stuttered, hoping my comprehension had somehow failed. “You mean…”

  “Yes, she’s dead.”

  I took a moment to gather the negatives, but my fear drove me to dump them without ceremony on the desk and chase after Louisa as she ran across the street to the bookstore. Police were already present, signaling for everyone to stay back.

  Pete exited the bookstore, looking agitated. I squeezed past the officer trying to block my path and hurried to him. “Pete, do you know who did it? Surely, you don’t think—”

  “Makayla, I’m investigating. You shouldn’t be over here.”

  “I know but I have to ask,” I pressed.

  He glared at me. “What does Zoe’s murder have to do with you? Please, move back so I can do my job!”

  Someone grabbed my arm and dragged me backward. I looked up to find the same officer I had bypassed. His displeasure was plain on his face, but I was focused on what Pete had said. He didn’t know Zoe’s connection to Penelope and therefore to Spencer? How could he possibly have missed it? What the heck had he been doing all this time?

  Half the town seeme
d to be there at the crime scene, all jostling each other and the police, demanding to know what was going on in our town. I noticed Louisa weave through the crowd to reach Pattie, and the two linked arms, their heads together as they spoke. Randall had come all the way over from the used bookstore, and I wondered who was minding his shop. Allie Kate joined Louisa and Pattie, and soon the three of them moved away.

  I couldn’t help thinking of how Ash and I had just been pressing Zoe to come forward with what she knew. The killer might have singled her out because of us. Guilt weighted my shoulders, and I began biting my thumbnail.

  Someone touched my hand, and I looked around. Spencer stood behind me. I followed him across the street to my shop, and we entered. He stayed near the door checking the street while I made for my desk. I needed to sit down.

  “She worked for Penelope,” he said.

  My gaze flew to his. “You knew?”

  He blinked at me. “Of course I knew, Makayla. I lived in the same house with her. I know the staff.”

  Tell that to Ash. “So you knew she moved here to Briney Creek?”

  “No, not until I was investigating the last case. I came across her when I visited the bookstore to question Brandon. Shocked me and clued me in right away that she followed or preceded Penelope with her harebrained scheme.”

  “You could have told me and Ash!”

  “I had a lot on my mind being imprisoned.”

  I glared at him.

  “Now I’m kicking myself for not recalling her. If I weren’t too busy feeling sorry for myself I could have prevented this.”

  “It’s not your fault. Wait, you were feeling sorry for yourself?”

  His gaze swung from the street to me, and he grinned. “Yes, I’ve had my position taken away, and all the hard work I’ve done over the years suddenly means nothing. People I care about doubt me.” He paused with significance, which I ignored.

  “I guess you do have reasons for a pity party.”

  “I didn’t say it was a pity party,” he grumbled, and I smirked.

  I pushed fingers through my hair. A migraine pulsed in my temples, and I considered whether I had anything at the studio to combat it before it became full blown. “If there’s anyone to blame, it’s me and Ash. We spoke with her just yesterday and tried to convince her to tell the police what she knew.”

  “You’re not taking blame, Makayla.”

  “I don’t need you to protect me from this.”

  He moved toward me. The man was stubborn, I’ll tell you that. “I’m thinking about talking to Pete. I’m not sure he will know the connection. Unfortunately, it might mean he’ll think I had something to do with her death given she died right after I was released.”

  “Are you crazy?” I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “You’ve just said you knew ahead of time that she worked for your ex-wife, and you knew she was probably in on the fake kidnapping. Doesn’t that give you motivation?”

  “Motivation for what?”

  “For murder.”

  “The kidnapping was a ruse. I told you. To get me back.”

  “Yes, but Pete doesn’t know that. He thinks you were after her money. He’ll think you killed Zoe to keep her quiet because she knew about your plans.”

  “You and Ash spoke with her yesterday.”

  I nodded. “She told us she knew about the sham and that she planned it with Penelope. She even gave her ideas on how to go about it. Penelope paid her more than her regular salary for the help.”

  “Then it’s settled. You and Ash can verify what she said.”

  “Of course,” I snarked. “Your ex-lover and your brother. That’s believable.”

  He stilled and watched me for a long silent moment. I shifted under the intensity of his gaze.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Nothing. Listen, it’s better if I talk to Pete now. He should have worked out the connection before today, but he’s young and less experienced. Despite that he’s a good cop, and I believe he’ll eventually learn the truth. It’s better for me if I approach him rather than have him learn about Zoe later and think I had something to hide.”

  He strode toward the door, and I balled my hands into fists. “No!”

  He turned back, his eyebrows rising toward his hairline. “Makayla…”

  “Pete will arrest you again! I need you out here, Spencer, helping me to clear your name.”

  His expression softened, and he returned to stand before me, his hands coming up to touch my face. “It’s okay. I’m not going back.”

  I smacked his hands away and stepped out of reach. “Let the police look for a motive for Zoe’s murder on their own.”

  He looked mutinous. I stuck to my guns.

  “If you’re so convinced Pete is a good cop, let him be one. While he’s doing that, we can do what we need to. You said he might conclude you have something to hide. So, either he arrests you now or he arrests you later. If he’s going to do it, what works best for us is if we have some time before that happens.”

  Spencer’s lips curled upward on one side. “Maybe you should be my lawyer. You give a convincing argument.”

  I held up a finger. “That’s because you, Spencer Norwood, are a boy scout. I have been shown to be less than angelic.”

  He appeared to consider this fact. “That’s true.”

  I glared. “You could have denied it.”

  “Why when you’ve summed yourself up so well.”

  “Honestly!”

  He chuckled. “I’m almost convinced. Let me think about it some.”

  I used my last card, determined to get him to agree with me. Turning away because I was a bit embarrassed, I faced my computer screen. “If you’re in jail, who will protect me?”

  My words sunk in since he remained silent, and I knew he was thinking of when I told him someone had attacked me amid the trees. I hadn’t shared with him about the experience with hypnotherapy yet, but I was confident in Spencer’s hero complex.

  “All right, you’ve convinced me,” he said in a quiet tone that didn’t reveal all he thought or felt. “I’ll wait to talk to Pete. This is the first time I’m able to move around freely in a few days. I don’t have the power of the badge behind me, but I’m not without my resources.”

  I nodded. Somehow his lack of reaction other than agreeing disappointed me. What had I been expecting, a declaration of love? Sheesh.

  “Where’s my brother? I haven’t seen him since I was released, and calling him was never the way to talk to him. He hates the phone.”

  “It would have been wonderful if I knew that before he drove me to considering violence when I called and texted him. I don’t know where he is.”

  Spencer frowned. “Is he staying at the inn?”

  “No, at the motel.” I told him the room number, and he narrowed his eyes but said nothing. I began straightening up the negatives, knowing he was wondering how I knew the specific number. Had the investigation called for me to visit his brother in his room? I wasn’t the type of woman to play games with men, but I wasn’t going to relieve his mind either. Call me what you will.

  “I’ll stop over there.” His hands came up to my arms, and he rubbed them from behind. “Makayla—”

  “You should get going. No telling when Pete will have an epiphany. I wasn’t able to get the police back in your home town talking, but I’m sure Pete can get them to share all kinds of information they can find out about Zoe.”

  “He doesn’t necessarily have to speak with them to get her background.”

  “All the more,” I said, not looking up.

  He sighed. “Okay, I’ll call you later.”

  His lips brushed my cheek, and he was gone. I blew out a breath and sank into my chair. All thoughts of work had left with Spencer.

  Chapter Twelve

  I writhed back and forth in my bed, trying to break free of the dream. A scent clogged my nostrils that was both familiar and unfamiliar. Either way, I hated it, and I wanted to get
away. The smell came from him, the man standing just outside my field of view. I knew I was having something called a lucid dream. That told me I should be able to control it, right?

  Everything in me tried to raise my gaze from the cement floor, but it was like a boulder sat on my chest or shackles around my neck, keeping me down. I recognized it as fear. Who wouldn’t be terrified in the same situation, and to wonderfully relive it at night? Well, I couldn’t think of anything more entertaining.

  At some point, I got my eyes to open and crawled out of bed. I thought if I walked through the apartment, it would shake the cobwebs from my head and make the scenes swirling there stop tormenting me. Instead, I managed to tangle an ankle in the sheets and landed face first on the carpet.

  Groaning and still incoherent, I reached up and pulled my pillow down to tuck under my head. Sleep descended like the drug the man had given me, and I heard his voice as if through water. “He’ll pay for humiliating me. I’m going to destroy his life.”

  Who? I wondered, but then it didn’t take rocket science to figure out. Spencer. I was his ex-lover, and Penelope was his ex-wife. This was revenge, pure and simple.

  While I slept, the basement came into view again. This time, I saw it all clearer, Penelope bound just like me, the scarf around her neck, her eyes wide with fear. My throat went dry, and I shook with the same terror. The musty scent was there, the chill of the cement behind me and under my bum.

  A man’s hand appeared, nothing out of the ordinary, but he reached for me, and I shrank back. “Leave us alone,” I said. “What do you want? Who are you?”

  “I’m the one who will make him pay,” he said. “For his arrogance, for thinking he was better than me.”

  Bile rose in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them wide, willing my mind to see him so I could identify him when I woke up. His face swam before me. I began to see dark hair and eyes that were…

  A sound brought me awake. I sat up on the floor, wondering how I got down there. Talk about wild sleeping. I wasn’t the type. Neither was I getting any younger that I didn’t need the comforts of a soft mattress. My back ached, and my temples pounded. With a hand halfway to my head, I froze. Something that had brought me back to reality repeated itself.