The Prey Bites Back: A Jesse Watson Mystery Book #8 (4 page)

“Need a cup of
coffee?” Lila Grayce asked as she took my purse and then helped me with my
jacket. “I just made a fresh pot.”

Lila Grayce is
our office manager… and lifesaver.

“No thanks,” I
replied, shaking the rain off me. “It’s pouring out there.”

“And it’s
supposed to be like that all day.”

I looked around
the office, and started to ask about our client when the door alarm chimes went
off. The front door opened and in walked a short, heavyset, black woman with
big hair. She was wet all over.

“You must be Mae
Bridges,” I said, extending my hand. “I’m Jesse Watson Blackhawk. It’s good to
finally meet you.” I looked at Lila, but before I could say anything, she came
over and helped Mae out of her wet things, asking about her interest in a cup
of coffee.

Mae shook my
hand, and then said to Lila, “A cup of coffee would be nice. Thank you.” Then,
she turned to me and said, “I bet I can read your mind.”

“I hope not. I
keep some pretty bad stuff hidden there. You wouldn’t want to visit that
place.”

She laughed out
loud and said, “I like you already. Your mom said I would, and she was right.
She also said that I could trust you.”

“You can. Tell
me your darkest secrets and I’ll take them to my grave… unless I’m tortured. If
that happens, you’re on your own.”

“Have you ever
been tortured?”

“Physically… no,
mentally… all the time. In my line of work, crawling out of bed in the morning
can be torture. Traffic can be torture, especially on a day like this.”

“Murder can be
torture,” she said. “Especially on the ones left behind.”

“Why don’t we
sit down,” I said, pointing to an overstuffed sofa.

She looked
around the room as if she was checking it out to make sure no one else was there.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I assured her. “We’ll have our privacy. There’s no one here
but the three of us.”

We both sat
down and waited until Lila had placed the coffee on the table in front of us.
When she walked away, I said to Mae, “So… tell me about your problem.”

“Let me just
say how glad I am that Sarah is going to be okay. I was really worried about
her for a while.”

“You know
Billy’s mother?”

“I know all the
Blackhawks. They do their banking with us, or they did with my husband before
he was murdered. Now, someone else handles their accounts.”

“Tell me about
your husband.”

Mae told me all
about her husband and how much she loved him. They had a great life together
until Dakota Stone killed him. “If she didn’t kill him, she had someone do it
just as sure as I’m sitting here drinking coffee with you.”

“Explain.”

“Look at me,”
she started. “I’m short and fat, my hair is a disaster, my complexion sucks,
and I’m black. Black people don’t usually get into snazzy joints like
The
Body Shop
. But… I have a lot of money, and money will open a lot of doors.”

“I hate to
admit it, but you’re right about that. Money is power.”

“Dakota Stone welcomed
me with opened arms and acted like we’d been best friends for years. I don’t
trust people like that. Something didn’t seem right about her, but I dismissed
the feeling, thinking maybe I was just being too judgmental. Then one day something
happened, and that’s when I realized there was a devious side to Dakota Stone
and everyone working at
The Body Shop
.”

“And that would
be what?”

“Don’t get me
wrong.
The Body Shop
is a fancy joint. The place is gorgeous. They have a
fabulous spa and gym, a masseuse, a nutritionist, and even a psychologist on
staff. I was impressed with how nice the place was. They really know how to
pamper a woman. I felt revived after my first visit. And then, on my third
visit, I had a session with Olivia Swales, the psychologist. Everyone talks to
the psychologist by their third visit. It’s part of the program. They not only
want to fix your body, but they also want to fix your mind, so they claim.
Well, they are pretty good at the body aspect, but the part about your mind,
that’s another story. I didn’t like her sticking her nose in my private life.”

“Isn’t that
what they’re supposed to do? How can they help you if you don’t let them get to
know you?”

“That’s just
it. I didn’t need help. I was happy with myself and my life. After only a few
sessions with her, I felt worse about everything… and I couldn’t shake that eerie
feeling I had. I knew something wasn’t right. It was like she wanted me to have
problems with my husband or kids, or anyone for that matter.”

“What was the
event you mentioned?”

“I remember the
day as vividly as if it were yesterday. I had just had a massage when Dakota
approached me and asked me why I hadn’t had a session with Olivia lately. I
told her that I didn’t need one. I was fine. She said I didn’t look fine. She
said I looked sad, and she was worried about me. She wanted me to see Olivia
right away, so I did, just to get her off my back. Olivia wanted to know how it
was going in my marriage. Did my husband treat me badly? She said I had all the
signs—withdrawn, unhappy, scared, and a bunch of other malarkey. At first, I
was shocked, and then I got angry. My husband was the kindest person you’d ever
meet. Nathaniel wouldn’t hurt a fly. So, I decided to fix her wagon. I lied. I
told her that my husband had a bad temper and was so mean to me that I’d have
him killed if I could. I was flabbergasted when Olivia said there were ways to
get rid of a bad husband and then asked me if I wanted to know more. I kept my
cool and said yes just to see what she’d say. She told me she knew someone who
could dispose of my husband—for a price—and the
incident
would never
lead back to me. I told her that I’d think about it. I wasn’t ever going back
there, so what did it matter? A week later, my husband was dead. I’m not proud
of what I did. I want you to know that upfront. My lies probably got my husband
killed.”

“I know you’re
not a bad person, Mae. I can see that. Did you give her money to kill your
husband?”

“No way!” Mae
said, shocked at my question. “I didn’t want my husband dead, so why would I
pay someone to kill him? You have to believe me! I want Nathanial back, but
that’s not going to happen. They killed him, and now he’s gone forever! They
have to pay.”

“You’re not
responsible for your husband’s death, so don’t blame yourself because of a few
lies you told to a crazy woman. It was foolish of you, but I understand why you
did it. Sometimes you’ll say anything just to get them to shut up.” I tried to
make her feel better by letting her know I understood her behavior. I changed
the subject. “What did you tell the police? I know they questioned you. The
spouse is always the first suspect.”

“I had an alibi.
I was at my sister’s house in
Cleveland
. But… there is that matter of the tips.
That would look bad for me if the cops ever found out. That’s why I told them I
had no idea who would want my husband dead when they asked.”

“What tips?”

“Two weeks
after Nathanial’s death, I got a call from Dakota. She said I hadn’t tipped any
of her employees, and tips were expected. Mine totaled twenty thousand dollars,
and it would be wise to settle my account in cash, or my membership would be
canceled. What she really meant was that she would cancel me—as in killing me
off. She had my husband killed and she wanted her payment. They’re all criminals.”

“And you paid her.”

“What else
could I do? I was scared not to pay. She had already killed my husband. What
next, my daughter, Marsha? I took the cash from the safe, paid her, and never
went back again. I haven’t heard a word from her since, but I haven’t forgotten
what she did. I might not be able to go to the police, but there’re other ways
to settle a debt. She owes me her life for taking my husband’s. I want all of them
tortured and then killed, but I’ll settle for killed. That’s right. I want them
dead. Dakota Stone and Olivia Swales. Both of them. Dead as a corpse. Name your
price. Everyone has a price.”

“Sorry, Mae.
Can’t help you there.”

I told Mae that
if she tried to hire a hit man, she’d be the one who would wind up in prison,
and most likely, Dakota and Olivia would never be brought to justice for their
crimes. I hoped she took me seriously, but Mae Bridges was a woman with revenge
in mind.

This was not
going to bode well for anyone.

Chapter 3

I assured Mae that she had
come to the right place for help in bringing the two women to justice, and
promised to call her with updates. We had a lot of digging to do. Before she
left, I made her swear to give up her quest for a hit man. She agreed to my
demand.

Lila and I
stood at the front door, looking through the glass as we watched Mae battle her
way through the pouring rain to her car. The wind was whipping up, blowing
leaves and debris through the air. Scary lightning flashed overhead and thunder
boomed repeatedly.

“This is a
dangerous storm,” I said. “Hurry up, Mae! Get in the car.”

“Jesse, you
worry too much,” Lila said as she patted me on the back. “She’ll be fine. She’s
almost there. See, she’s got her hand on the door…”

Once again,
lightning flashed and thunder exploded in the air like a bomb, rattling the
windows. Seconds later, another bolt of lightning shot down from the sky and hit
Mae’s car. It all happened so fast, we froze. Mae shook for a few seconds, and
then dropped to the ground, her hand still stuck to the door handle.

“Oh, my God!” I
screamed. “Call
9-1-1
, Lila.” I grabbed for the doorknob, ready
to run to Mae’s aid, but Lila stopped me. “It’s too late for her, Jesse. Stay
put. I’ll call
9-1-1
.”

“But she needs
help!”

“You want to
end up like her?”

“No, but…”

“Then do what I
say. Don’t go out there. I’ll call for help.”

Lila made the
call while I stood at the door and stared at Mae’s motionless body crumpled up on
the cold, wet pavement. Thunder and lightning continued as if nothing had
happened. I watched in horror as Mother Nature continued her rampage. Mae never
moved. I was sure she was dead. I thought about how awful it was to die like
that. Sometimes, death doesn’t give you a warning.

“The ambulance
is on the way,” Lila said, joining me at the door. “They should be here real
soon. Our emergency services are the best.”

In a matter of
a couple of minutes, an ambulance showed up, followed by another, three police
cars, and then a fire truck. Red lights and sirens filled the parking lot. It
was a welcomed sight, although a little too late. Mae Bridges was dead. I knew
it the second the bolt of lightning hit the car. Her hand was stuck like glue
on the door handle. She couldn’t pull away to safety.

My stomach felt
like hamburger in a grinder. I didn’t know whether I was going to throw up or
suffer a severe case of diarrhea, but something was going on down there.

Lila handed me
a glass of water and a little pink pill.

“What’s this?”

“Xanax. Take
it.”

“Did you take
one?”

“No. I took
two.”

With the storm
raging outside, there was no way either one of us were going anywhere for a
while. I tossed the pill back and chased it down with the water. I was unaware
at the time that Xanax could make you feel so good. Before long, I was floating
on a cloud.

“Why haven’t
the cops questioned us yet about what we saw?” I asked, feeling a little fuzzy.
My eyes seemed to have a hard time focusing.

“Why would
they? Once they assess the scene, they’ll know what happened.” She looked me up
and down. “You might want to go into Billy’s office and take a nap. You’re
beginning to act a little loopy.”

“I’m fine. Am I
slurring my words? Wow! I want more of these pills! They work great for stress.”

“That’s how it
starts, and then you get hooked.”

“You’re not
hooked, are you, Lila? I don’t want to have to worry about you. Look what
happened to Mae when I worried about her. She died.”

“I think you
have a buzz. You need to lie down.” She didn’t usher me to Billy’s office, but
instead, walked me over to the couch in the waiting room, and then insisted I
lay down.

I dozed off as
soon as I sprawled out on the comfortable sofa. According to the wall clock, two
hours had passed by the time I woke up. “What happened? I feel weird.”

“You crashed.”

“Crashed into
what?”

“You don’t
remember?”

I sat there for
a moment, waiting for the fog in my head to lift. The sight of Mae being struck
by lightning came back to me all too real. “Oh, how awful! I remember
everything now. Poor Mae is dead.”

“Actually, she
isn’t dead.”

“She’s not? Oh,
thank goodness!”