Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(31)

“You too. See you Monday.”

She put her ear buds back in, and I went to the shower stall and grabbed my shampoo and conditioner bottles then headed back to meet up with Vance. When I stepped out into the hallway, he was thumbing through his phone. Once he saw me, he shut it off and slipped it into the pocket of his shorts.

“I was about to come in after you. You all beautiful now, Princess. I think I heard you giving me a hard time about taking too long if I remember correctly.”

I walked up to him and involuntarily inhaled the wet, clean air surrounding his body. “Lay off. Miss Red was in there cleaning up.”

“What’s she doing here on the weekend?”

“She said she needed to clean still because she left early yesterday.”

“That woman.” He shook his head agreeing with the absurdity. “Come on. I’m starving.”

When we walked through the doors to the outside, the air that greeted us was pleasant and mild. The out-of-place black car was still parked at the curb.

I flicked my head. “Did we get a new fleet vehicle while I was away?”

“No, not that I know of. Come on. I’m so hungry I’m considering eating your arm. You wanna leave your car here or follow me.”

“I’ll follow you,” I said, looking at the car. Not being able to see through the deep black windows gave me an eerie feeling.

“Okay, I’ll order the food and pick it up. Go to my place and let yourself in, I’ll be there in a few.”

“Wait. You don’t know what I want.”

He looked at me and smirked. “Are you serious? You get the same thing every time. Angel hair pasta with grilled shrimp and the vanilla bean cheesecake, no fruit whatsoever should come anywhere near it. Am I right?”

I smiled, girlishly raising my shoulders to my ears. “Okay, so maybe you do know. Meet you there.”

We walked in opposite directions. When I looked back over my shoulder to the car, my hairs stood on end. I felt like I was being watched. I shook it off and continued on my way.

Fifteen minutes later, I let myself in Vance’s house. I put my bag down on the little wooden bench by the front door and went straight back into his kitchen to get things ready for us. When I walked in, it looked like he hadn’t done dishes in a few days, but the smell suggested it might have been longer. The sink was piled with crusty bowls, sour milk cups, and various dried out pots and pans. He’d apparently made spaghetti at some point recently. It was disgusting and it amazed me he wasn’t embarrassed to bring women into his place looking the way it did.

I rolled up my sleeves and started running the hot water. Contracting botulism or some other social disease eating in his funk wasn’t on my menu. Vance would be waiting long enough for our food that I could have everything cleaned up and smelling good before he walked in the door. I turned on the little TV in his kitchen for some background noise then I wiped and scrubbed and got everything smelling fresh.

When he arrived, I was coming back in from taking out his trash.

“Di!” Vance called down the corridor from the front door. The clipped tone in his voice sounded an alarm.

“Vance? What’s wrong?” I asked peering around corner of the island. I shook a new garbage bag open and was setting it in place.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” he said, walking into the kitchen.

“Sorry, my phone’s in my bag by the front door. I didn’t hear it. What’s up?”

He put two bags of what smelled like heaven down on the table. The savory aroma of garlic, butter, and shrimp blended together and made my mouth water.

“Did you clean my kitchen?” he asked, looking around. He shook his head in irritation and clenched his jaw down.

“What tipped you off?” I smirked, and he glared at me. “I’m sorry, I know you hate it when I do this, but it was totally disgusting in here. How long were those dishes sitting in your sink? And the pizza boxes next to the stove? They had to be about a week old.”

“They’ve been there a few days.” He admitted as if that time frame made it more acceptable.

“I don’t know how you live like this.” I laid the sponge on the sink and started washing my hands.

He almost began to say something else then stopped himself. “Ugh, never mind, I’ll yell at you later. Something happened to Miss Red. We need to go. Cavanaugh called. They’re taking her to the hospital now.”

“Ohmygod. What happened?” I knew I shouldn’t have left her in there alone. I quickly dried my hands and walked past him toward the front door. I slipped on my flip flops and grabbed my phone from my bag. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. Someone jumped her inside the women’s locker room.”





Eleven



Vance and I pulled into the emergency parking lot in front of the hospital. I hopped out of my seat and trotted through the automatic doors with Vance at my heels. We saw Tom Mathews sitting in the lobby with two police officers on either side of him. Beads of sweat dotted Tom’s brow, and he was noticeably dazed.

“Hey,” I said to the three men. I sat down in the empty seat next to Tom. “How’s it going? You okay?”

“Who are you?” one of the officers interjected.

“Oh, excuse me. Diana Cain and Vance DeLuca,” I said. We shook hands, and the taller of the two officers jotted our names down in a notebook. “We’re employees at B&B. We’d left the building right before Miss Red was attacked. Are you okay?” I asked Tom again.