SEE HIM DIE Read online

  “Jules!” Marie weaved through the two bartenders working efficiently to fill orders and, without asking, set a Miller Lite with a frosted glass on the counter in front of Julie. “How’s it going?”

  Julie took a deep swig from the bottle before answering. “You don’t want to know.” She poured the rest of the beer into the frosty glass.

  Marie shot a knowing look at the beer. “I can see that,” she returned, aware that Julie wasn’t much of a drinker. “I take it you didn’t get the job.”

  “Nope, and after that I interviewed for a job as a bank teller. I didn’t get that one either.”

  Marie’s expression turned sympathetic. “Oh man, that sucks.”

  Julie downed another long swallow, and then she pushed a big old false smile into place. “No, what sucks is my husband cheating on me with a girl half his age. What sucks is being stupid enough to sign a prenuptial agreement that gave him all the power.” She sighed dramatically. “And what really, really sucks is rear-ending a cop with your neighbor’s car.”

  “Oh, my God!” Marie’s gray eyes rounded to match the perfect O her mouth had formed. “You’re kidding? You rear-ended a cop?”

  Julie nodded, the ridiculous smile seemingly frozen on her face. “Maybe if I had a rich uncle who died and left me his fortune I might be able to dig my way out of this hole.”

  A new kind of dismay claimed her friend’s face. “You don’t think he’ll sue, do you?”

  Jesus, Julie hadn’t thought of that. The beer abruptly soured in her stomach. “I don’t think so. He let me go without an accident report and seemed satisfied with my assurance that I would pay for the damages.”

  Marie nodded. “Good. He sounds like a nice guy. Maybe you got luckier than you know today.”

  Maybe she had. Julie hadn’t looked at it from that perspective. She’d been too busy licking her wounds and feeling sorry for herself.

  “I guess you’re right.” With the tip of her finger, she traced a bead of moisture down her swiftly defrosting glass. When she thought of the way the detective had looked at her, a little funnel of heat whirled beneath her bellybutton. She hadn’t been the only one fantasizing. She shook off the foolish notion. What was with her?

  “Can you come up with the money for the damages?” Marie ventured carefully.

  Julie narrowed her gaze at her friend. “Don’t even think about it. I’m not borrowing any money from you or taking one of your kids’ rooms, either. I’ll manage.”

  “I just want you to know I’ll be glad to help.”

  Julie shook her head resolutely. “I will find a job. Then I’ll take care of everything.”

  A moment of silence passed between them and Julie knew her friend was hoping it would be so easy. She was hoping that herself.

  “I could always use another waitress,” Marie offered.

  Julie watched a waitress rush to the bar with her tray in hand and spout off the names and special orders for a dozen drinks. “I appreciate the offer.” Julie swung her gaze back to Marie’s. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for waitressing.”

  “The tips are really good,” she encouraged. “Most of my people bring in six or seven hundred each week for working four days.”

  Disbelief radiated through Julie. “Dollars?”

  Marie nodded. “This is a busy place and the patrons are big tippers. It’s not unusual for a waitress or waiter to serve fifty or more drinks per night. Every drink is usually accompanied with a tip of a couple of dollars, sometimes three. That doesn’t even count the meals or side orders.”

  The number definitely gave Julie pause. She could survive on that salary. If she managed a divorce settlement maybe she could buy a practical car and a modest townhouse. Waitressing might not be so bad until she found a position those six years of schooling had qualified her for.

  She turned around on her stool and surveyed the waitstaff darting from table to table. She inclined her head and considered the skimpy skirts the females wore and the over friendly pats from the male patrons—female in the cases of the waiters.

  Frowning, she swiveled back to her friend. “I don’t know, Marie. I might have to hurt one of those guys.” She cocked her head toward one customer in particular who persisted in pawing his waitress.

  Marie shrugged. “I understand. It’s not for everyone.”

  Julie pushed away her beer. “I guess I should get my neighbor’s car back home.”

  “How about something to eat first?” Marie knew her too well. Julie often forgot to eat when she was preoccupied in any capacity, good, bad, or indifferent. Driving after consuming alcohol on an empty stomach would be plain dumb.

  “Excellent idea.” Though she’d had only half of one beer, she preferred to err on the side of caution.

  A basket of hot wings and fries and a tall, refreshing Coke later and she was good to go. Marie, as usual, refused payment.

  “I’ll treat you next time,” Julie insisted.

  Marie gave her a look. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did for me last year. I don’t know why you won’t let me return the favor.”

  It wasn’t necessary for her to bring up that bad memory. Marie had just gotten the bar remodeled when a fire damaged the kitchen. Julie had, without hesitation, cleaned out the account Austin had set up for her to bail Marie out of trouble. She’d refused the money when Marie tried to pay her back four months later, telling her to put it in an account for the kids’ education.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Julie promised as she scooted off the stool and headed for the door. She didn’t want her financial problems to become Marie’s. She’d get through this. Marie had two kids, nine and seven years old, to worry about. Being a single mother wasn’t easy even with a successful business.

  Julie took her time driving back to the apartment she now called home. The place was barely a cut above a dump, but she’d lived in a similarly low rent apartment during her grad school days. She felt sure Austin got a real kick out of her current living conditions. Well, screw him. She would manage. Being poor wasn’t a sin and it damned sure wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.

  She thanked her neighbor profusely for being so kind as to lend her the car and offered her any assistance she might need in the future. The old woman only had one question.

  Did you get the job?

  Julie slunk home more depressed than ever.

  Inside her tiny apartment, she kicked off her shoes. She’d never felt lonelier. Sure Austin hadn’t come home much in a long while, but there was something keenly depressing about knowing that no one was coming... ever. Shaking off the gloom she dragged her cell from her purse and noted she had two voicemails. She must have missed the calls while she was in the bar. For just a moment hope soared inside her. Maybe Mr. Preston at Wolff, Inc. had changed his mind.

  The first message was from her landlady. A friendly reminder that rent and the remainder of her deposit were due in one week. Julie heaved a disgusted sigh. She’d been so thankful when the landlady had kindly let her move in without the full deposit. Now what would she do?

  The second call was from Detective Duncan. A shiver of awareness skittered over Julie’s skin as she listened to his deep voice.

  “Ms. Barton, I didn’t expect to be calling you so quickly, but a friend has offered to repair the damages to my car for cost. I thought that would cut you some slack.”

  Julie smiled. He was a nice guy. She shook her head at the foolish feeling of attraction that stirred inside her just hearing his voice.

  “The amount comes to one thousand dollars. Give me a call when you get this message.”

  Julie’s smile dropped into a ground-dragging frown. One thousand dollars! How could it be that much?

  She considered what was left of the cash she’d snagged from the ATM before Austin closed her account. She couldn’t do this. Even scrapping together the rent looked dismal. What in the world was she going to do?

  She closed her eyes and fought the defeat pulling at
her.

  Don’t fall apart. You can do it.

  Julie drew in a bolstering breath and made a call to her friend.

  Three rings sounded before she answered. “Midtown Marie’s.”

  “Marie, this is Julie.”

  “You get home okay?”

  “Yes, thanks.” She reached down deep for her courage. “Listen, I was wondering... do you still need another waitress?”

  “Of course!”

  Marie sounded elated. Julie wished she could feel the same enthusiasm. “Good. Because I need a job now.”

  “Why don’t you start tonight? Get on over here, girl, and we’ll start your training.”

  Julie thanked her friend and ended the call.

  So she’d never been a waitress.

  How bad could it be?

  Chapter Four

  Midtown Marie’s

  Friday, June 26, 9:45 p.m.

  Three days. Blake reached for the beer he’d been nursing for the past two hours. He’d been watching Julie Barton twenty-four hours a day for the past three days. So far, she’d had no in-person contact with her estranged husband. Based on the snippets of conversation he’d overheard between her and the sports bar owner, Julie had apparently discovered what a lowlife scumbag he was. She’d confronted him and moved out. Blake had checked with his sources and picked up a few facts on Julie Barton.

  She and her friend had grown up in the Birmingham area. After high school, Julie had gone to the University of Alabama while her friend had gotten married and moved to Mobile. Julie lost her parents while she was in college so when she graduated she joined Marie here and ended up married to the younger Barton brother.

  Blake was reserving judgment at this point, but if he had to make a call on the information he had at the moment—Julie wasn’t like her husband. She was naïve and vulnerable. The victim of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

  Blake downed the warm beer, and then cursed himself. He’d had the woman under surveillance again for barely seventy-two hours and already he was getting overly protective again. She was no damsel in distress. Hell, she’d been married to one of the Barton brothers for three and a half years. She couldn’t be as innocent as she appeared… as innocent as he wanted to believe. In some bizarre twist of fate, Blake was attracted to her. How screwed up was that?

  His personal feelings were irrelevant. Making Randall Barton pay for what he had done was all that mattered. If he had to use Julie, innocent or not, to make that happen, so be it. The real question was whether she knew anything that would bring the Barton crime syndicate down. He doubted it. If she did, she wouldn’t be living in some low-rent apartment and working in this bar. She would be dead. That was one thing Blake knew with complete certainty. Still, she was a wild card. The Barton brothers rarely gave up anything they considered their property.

  Julie Barton didn’t wear the same denim mini skirt the other waitresses wore. Instead, tight jeans molded to her petite figure. The white t-shirt with the sports bar logo emblazoned across her breasts was tucked in, accentuating her tiny waist and gently curving hips. She wore strappy little sandals that showed off her snazzy pink toenail polish. Her long blond hair was in a messy braid that begged to be undone. The hard-on he’d been dealing with from the moment he fixed his attention on her had him ready to claw the damned table with frustration. Every move she made had him wanting to strip her down to all that creamy smooth skin and drive into her until she screamed his name over and over.

  He gritted his teeth and hated himself a little more for becoming infatuated with the woman. Just thinking about her had him fighting for sleep on the rare occasions he allowed himself any down time. He wanted her bad.

  If he were smart, he’d get as far away from her as possible. He’d known what he needed to do a couple months ago when he’d stopped watching her. Regrettably, that was no longer an option. For now, this was his best bet for finding a way in and he would find a way in. Fury tightened his gut. Whatever it took.

  His cell vibrated on the table.

  Steve Lutz. His partner.

  Blake ignored it, allowing the call to go to voicemail the way he had the half dozen others he’d received since the L.T. had put him on leave for the rest of the week. What Blake did in his off time was none of his partner’s business.

  As much as he respected his partner, this was personal.

  Someone had once told Julie that the third time was the charm.

  Well it was a flat out lie.

  This was her third night as a waitress and it was still as bad as it had been the first night. No, that was wrong. Tonight was Friday night. The job was definitely worse on Friday night than Wednesday or Thursday. She felt fairly confident that the only reason she still had a job was because her boss was her best friend.

  As much as waitressing sucked, Julie sucked at the job.

  She’d memorized most of the names of drinks but she still didn’t have down pat that little code everyone else used. The flirtatiousness that won all the other waitresses such big tips didn’t come naturally to Julie. She was no good at being a waitress. In fact, her whole life was no good at the moment. Hustling to the bar for her next round of drinks, she put aside the pity party. There were people with far worse circumstances. She had absolutely no legitimate reason for this level of self-pity. When had she become such a whiner?

  “Hey, baby, you’re looking mighty fine tonight.”

  Julie cringed at the sound of the male voice she’d come to loathe. Parnell Roberts, a steady customer of Marie’s, and Julie’s new admirer.

  “Good evening, Mr. Roberts.” She produced a smile as he leaned against the bar next to her. She had to remember that as relentless and annoying as he could be, the guy was a hell of a good tipper. Money talked and, well, she needed the money.

  “Honey, I don’t know why you don’t let me take you away from this sweat shop.” The flirt leaned closer. “All you have to say is yes and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you a happy woman.”

  Julie laughed softly. “Mr. Roberts, I hate to be the one to tell you this but I’m already married.” At least her still-technically-married status was good for something.

  He exhaled a disgusted breath. “You tell that husband of yours that he’d better start paying more attention to you.” He looked her up and down. “I can spot a woman who ain’t getting what she needs a mile off.”

  Julie bit her tongue and hurried away with her tray of drinks. Surely she was not that transparent. The truth was she hadn’t gotten what she needed in better than six months. An imposing image of a man with dark hair and eyes elbowed its way into her thoughts. Sweet Jesus, she was hopeless.

  As she settled the last glass on the appropriate table, she noticed Marie having a word with Roberts. Her friend was looking out for her. Julie suspected her work here was more trouble for Marie than it was worth. The tips were, as she’d promised, pretty good. Though Julie hadn’t reached the pinnacle Marie had mentioned, she’d done well. By Monday she should have enough with what she already had stashed away to make her rent plus the remainder of the deposit. Having that worry off her back would definitely help.

  She had to admit that the come-ons and the relentless passes definitely made the night fly by. Thankfully, when she got home she was too exhausted to do anything but sleep. She no longer tossed and turned worrying about her life.

  As she took a couple more orders, she considered that she should have called Detective Duncan back already. She would tomorrow, she promised that nagging little voice in her head. It wasn’t fair to leave him hanging. If he were as nice as he seemed, he wouldn’t mind taking the money in payments over a three or four week period.

  As if her thoughts had somehow summoned him, he took a seat at one of her tables and lifted his empty beer bottle in a signal for another. Her breath trapped somewhere between her throat and her lungs. It was him. Tall, dark, and handsome was sitting there staring at her with the hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mou
th. When had he walked in? A while ago, apparently.

  She nodded before hurrying to the counter and placing the order. She told herself to calm down. She would explain how busy she’d been and he would surely understand why she hadn’t called. She squeezed her eyes shut. Was the money for the damages what she was worried about? Or was it… him?

  This was the first time since before her parents died that she had been so attracted to a guy. Of course, she had been attracted to Austin. Looking back, she could admit that the attraction to him was more about stability and the need to be with someone. What she’d felt for Austin had been nothing like this hot, fiery urgency. She dreamed of sex with the detective.

  A groan welled inside her. Her life was a mess. The last thing she needed was an affair with a cop. She had never been the casual sex type. Julie had spent all her time in high school, college, and grad school studying or reading. Maybe it was all those romances she’d devoured in her meager spare time.

  This was a hell of a time for her wanton side to suddenly appear.

  The plunk of a longneck bottle of beer landing on the counter yanked her from the puzzling thoughts. Taking a breath, she reached for the beer and smiled for Terry, the bartender who’d gone above and beyond to teach her the names and contents of all the drinks. “Thanks!”

  Stay calm. She would explain everything to Detective Duncan. All she had to do was keep her hands from shaking and take slow, deep breaths. She would never admit this to a soul, not even Marie, but she’d listened to the detective’s message a couple more times just to hear his voice. It was pathetic, but she just couldn’t help herself. His voice was... deep, rich and sexy.

  As Mr. Roberts said, she hadn’t received the attention she needed in a long time. She couldn’t even remember the last time Austin had kissed her. Fury whipped through her when she thought of how he’d cheated on her.

  She’d kept her figure and dressed well. She’d tried hard to maintain at least a little air of mystery for her husband. Rather than just sit around the house, she had acquainted herself with the staff and helped with numerous projects. They all loved her. Why couldn’t her husband? Oh, and she never nagged. It wasn’t in her nature. He couldn’t accuse her of nagging. She always deferred to his judgment, never making a fuss. Even when he’d insisted that children were out of the question, which had turned out to be a blessing.