Read The Impostor, A Love Story Online

Authors: Tiffany Carmouche

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #friendship, #suspense, #inspirational, #love story, #serial killer, #contemporary, #artist, #sensual, #stalker, #survival, #alaska, #single mom, #adventures, #alaska adventure, #new beginning, #new adult, #adult and young adult, #adult fiction book series, #rediscovers self

The Impostor, A Love Story (7 page)

BOOK: The Impostor, A Love Story
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“I can kick them out,” he repeated.

“It’s fine.” I lifted my eyes toward the
empty glass. He read my mind.

“You sure? Tequila sneaks up on you.”

“I need to drown out this imagery. Please do
another one with me.” We took another shot. As I put down my glass,
I glanced back at the table and gasped, “Oh my god, Brad.” I leaned
in to whisper to him. “What if he’s the guy who is raping and
killing all those girls?” I scanned back at the table of men. “He’s
a hunting guide. He said he would make me scream, scream like a
woman. What if it’s him?”

“I doubt it’s him. I doubt he would make a
scene like that. He was just messing with you, Nikki. He’s all
talk. He’s not going to do anything to you.” Brad put his hand on
mine. I turned and stared at the man again. Brad was probably
right.

“Nikki, stop watching him.”

I slumped over trying to go undetected. “Shh,
I’m using my stealth detective skills.” We laughed. “Let’s do
another.” I pointed to the lonely empty glasses.

“I think you’ve had enough. You already had .
. .”

“Shh! Please? Just a few more. We never do
shots together.” It was really slow, so he motioned to the other
bartender to take over. We took the shots. I sucked on the lime
dressed in salt, contemplating out loud, “Why are guys like that?
Why do they talk to girls like that? Do they think it turns us on?
It just made me want to throw up on him.”

“I don’t know, Nicole. I guess some men can
be crude.”

“Not you, Bradley. You always know what to
say. You’re the best.” It was apparent by my slurred speech the
alcohol was starting to hit me. I leaned into the bar, grabbing his
shirt and giving it a little tug. He leaned in toward me. I loved
the smell of his cologne. His blue eyes looked down at me from
under his dark lashes. He leaned in closer. My mouth went to his
ear as if I was going to tell him something extremely
important.

“I have to pee.” I put my hand over my mouth
as if I said a bad word, giggling under my breath. Brad just shook
his head and laughed at me as I made my grand exit, staggering
toward the restroom.

When I left the bathroom, wobbling back
toward the bar, that slimy man, Chuck, blocked me. The creep was
wasted and decided he was taking me home that evening no matter
what. I politely brushed him off, but he became more insistent. He
took hold of me again, and as I pulled away, he got aggressive. “So
you like it rough.” I flashed back to the helpless feeling of being
overpowered by a man. I struggled harder. He grabbed my ass,
pulling me into him. The smell of alcohol and sweat made me gag.
Brad realized what was happening and that I needed help. He bolted
out from behind the bar.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend.” Brad
grabbed me out of Chuck’s arms preparing to punch the crap out of
him. “Get the hell out of here before I . . .”

“I got it man.” Pete stepped in.

Brad turned to me. I was shaking. I flashed
back to lying in a corner, battered after one of Ronald’s rages,
and I began breathing heavy. Brad saw my disgust and the tears
building. “You okay?” It caught me off guard when Brad took me into
his arms.

My body was quivering; we could hear the man
ranting in the background. Bradley pulled me in closer, wiping away
the moisture from my cheeks. He held me until I stopped trembling.
“It’s gonna be okay, Nikki. You’re gonna be okay.” Brad stared down
at me, staring into my eyes. His face slowly began gravitating
toward mine. I focused on his lips. My heart began to elevate and I
bit my lip as our heads drifted towards each other. Our mouths were
about to touch when someone yelled out, “He’s gone!”

Brad hesitated for a moment and then pulled
his head away from mine and whispered, “You’re safe.” He gazed into
my eyes a moment longer, gently touching my face. “You okay?”

Did he realize I almost allowed myself to
kiss him
? I just stared.

“You’re safe,” he said abruptly, “I better
get back to work. I’ll have Pete take you and Emily home
tonight.”

As I watched him walk back to the bar, I
wondered for a moment what would happen if . . . I sucked my breath
in. It was the tequila. Brad didn’t like me like that. He was my
boss. Getting together with my boss would be stupid!

 

Chapter Seven

 

I approached the bar the next day a little
nervous that it would be awkward when I saw Brad again. I was so
happy when he just joked about my hangover, and we laughed about my
stealth detective skills.

Emily ran over to remind me Chris was picking
us up from work to take us to dinner soon. She fidgeted. It was
cute to see her so nervous. Noticing the clock, we realized we were
off and hung up our aprons. As we headed toward the employee’s
bathroom to quickly get ready, Chris walked in the restaurant.

“I can’t believe he’s here so early. I wanted
to change first,” Emily said under her breath. He approached us
with dresses draped over his arm.

“I want to take you to a really nice
restaurant and forgot to tell you how to dress. I grabbed a few
dresses out of my sister’s closet. They looked like they will fit
you.”

“She won’t get upset?” Emily asked.

“She’s in Europe, so she won’t miss them
tonight. I would have bought something, but I haven’t had time and
our reservation is in an hour. Is this okay, or would you prefer to
swing back by your place? I brought some shoes also. I hope they
fit.”

Under the dresses, the shoes dangled in his
hand. The dresses were elegant. I had nothing like that packed in
my suitcase, and I knew Emily didn’t, either.

“We can just wear these, since there isn’t
much time. Thank you,” Emily said, taking the dresses from
Chris.

“I’ll be back in around forty minutes, okay?”
He kissed Emily on the cheek. Once he walked out the door, we
scurried to the bathroom to hurry and change.

“These are gorgeous!” I zipped the back of
Emily’s dress. “You look beautiful, Em.” I smiled, both of us
looking at her in the mirror. “You should wear your hair up. I
think I have something in my bag. Let me check.” We refreshed our
makeup, and I pinned up her hair.

“Are you sure I look okay?”

“Emily, you really are stunning! You like him
don’t you?”

“He’s all right.” She tried to hide her
interest.

“These heels are too big, but my black pumps
should go with this, right?” I dug through my bag.

“Thank you for coming with me, Nicole.”

“Hey, I don’t mind. I get a free meal and
good company.” Emily and I went everywhere together since we were
new to the area. This was the first official date Emily had been on
since she broke up with Bill, a guy from back home who I hated.
Bill treated her horribly.

“Are you sure I look okay?”

“Oh my god, Em. You are breathtaking! Are you
sure you want me to go with you? You should be safe with him. He’s
a friend of Brad’s.”

She took my hand, “Look at us, Nicole. We
clean up pretty nice. This will be fun. I want you there. Besides,
if we have to dress like this to go to this restaurant, it will be
a hell of a lot better than ramen noodles!” She grinned.

 

Chris embodied chivalry and yet made us
laugh. I was sure Emily could get used to being spoiled. He really
treated her wonderfully. I liked the way she radiated when she sat
next to him, and I felt a little weird crashing their date. We
pulled into valet parking and got out of the car.

“Good evening, Mr. Anderson.” They’d greeted
him by name. Apparently, he was someone. I wondered what he did. He
avoided those types of questions, joking that if he told us, he
would have to kill us.

They sat us right away in a VIP section of
the restaurant. Only certain people were allowed in the area. There
were a few celebrities, star athletes, and us.

Chris ordered a variety of
hors d'oeuvres
and started off with a bottle of
Dom Pérignon
. The bottles kept
coming and the food kept arriving. It seemed as if the chef wanted
him to try everything on the menu.

I quickly forgot about watching my weight and
almost died in the ambrosia, joking with Em that she was right, it
was
much better than the gourmet Cup of Noodles we warmed up
in the microwave.

Chris had us laughing, and before long, we
noticed we were the only ones left in the restaurant. When he
received the bill, I glanced over out of curiosity to get an idea
what an evening like this would cost.

Three-thousand, two-hundred dollars
!
The champagne alone was five-hundred dollars a bottle. I hoped he
didn’t see me almost have a heart attack. I tried to act like I
hadn’t seen anything. How does a guy in his late twenties have over
three-thousand dollars for a meal? Ramen noodles were ten cents a
serving.

“I have to go out of town on business for a
few days but would love to take you ladies out again when I return.
Maybe out on the horses.”

“Give me a call when you get back, and we can
plan something,” Emily answered.

“That’ll be wonderful.”

As we were leaving the restaurant and he
stood waiting for his car, we started to worry that he had over an
hour drive and he had been drinking.

“I don’t want to be rude or anything, but you
really shouldn’t drive all the way back to Wasilla tonight,” Emily
blurted out.

“Are you inviting me over?”

“No, but you should probably stay someplace
here in town just to be safe.” If he had three-thousand dollars for
a meal, he could get a cab and pay for a hotel room so he wouldn’t
have to drive drunk. Not that he staggered, but we were all a
little tipsy. We had four five-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne
after all.

“Thank you for your concern. I’m staying in
town. I have a place here too.”

Who is this guy
?

“We will take a cab so you don’t have to go
out of your way. We had such a great time.” Emily leaned over and
kissed him on the cheek.

“We did. Thank you for everything,” I agreed
and gave him a hug.

“Are you ladies sure? I can get someone to
drive you.”

“There is a cab right here,” she pointed.
“Thank you again.”

Maybe I watched too many horror movies, but I
really didn’t want anyone knowing where we were staying. We took
the cab back to our motel with our little kitchenette.

It was too late to call Jess. I picked her
picture off the dresser and gave it a kiss and then changed into a
nightshirt.

I pulled the covers around me and turned on
my stomach to face Emily.

“He is pretty amazing, isn’t he?”

“He is, but he’s not really my type.”

“Good looking, rich, funny . . . he’s not
like that idiot back home!”

“What is wrong with me? I guess I’m a little
nervous.”

“You deserve someone who treats you like this
guy does, Em. Besides, I see how you drool over him. Don’t lie. You
get flushed every time he looks at you.”

“He is so sweet, and he’s got the cutest
dimples.” She started to turn red again. We each sprawled out on
our own bed discussing his attributes.

“What about you? I saw you almost kiss
Brad.”

“That was nothing, Em. He was just trying to
save me from that creep.”

“Are you sure? I don’t know . . . it looked a
little like there was a connection.”

“He’s just a great guy, a good friend,
and
my boss
. It really was nothing!”

We both had already given our heart away to
guys who didn’t deserve it. We each had been crushed and didn’t
ever want to hurt like that again. As we chatted, we slowly drifted
off to sleep.

Chapter Eight

 


To meaningful sex,” Dylan
toasted,

winking at me again.

~The Impostor

 

Walking in, we squinted—the bright afternoon
sun constricted our pupils, so our eyes had trouble adjusting to
the dark atmosphere of the bar at first. I made my way to the back
and tied on my apron and began taking orders. I saw Steve in the
corner of the room standing next to the heavyset man with fiery red
hair.

“Hi, it’s Steve, isn’t it?” They had just
been seated.

“Yes, it is. Good memory.” I saw the “big
tipper” sign he had plastered across his forehead.

“Has anyone served you yet?”

“No, we just got here.” I secretly hoped to
make another good tip from him. In his voice, I could hear a
southern drawl, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“Do you know Officer Statton?” Steve nodded
to the ginger haired man in a flannel shirt and jeans.

“He was with you last time you were here,
right? Nice to meet you, sir. How can I help you all today?” I
glanced at the newspaper sitting folded on the table.

The headline read: The Hunter Strikes Again:
Newest Victim of Serial Killer Found.

“Oh my god, can I see that? I heard about
this.” I picked up the paper and went on to read aloud, “A female
body was discovered Monday morning at Lazy Mountain, Alaska. Two
hunters spotted something in the leaves they thought were remains
of a Dall sheep, but upon closer inspection identified it as a
human body. Initial autopsy reports revealed the victim was a
female in her twenties. Anchorage police believe this is another
victim of the serial killer . . .”

“Oh my god, she was slaughtered also.”

“What do you all know about the case, Randy?
Any new evidence?” Steve questioned the officer.

“Normally, you don’t find an entire body.
Generally, you might find decomposition or some animal activity.
Since the body was still intact, it means it happened recently. The
fact that there have been numerous bodies found in the past two
years is disturbing.”

“Do you know anything about the
murderer?”

“We know the killer is a hunter.”

BOOK: The Impostor, A Love Story
11.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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