Cheryl Bradshaw - Black Diamond Death

I parked non-valet in the only parking spot I could find at the end of the street and went in after him. I managed to slide inside without much notice and saw Parker enter the men’s room. Now all I had to do was wait. I stood a few feet away and examined a brochure of the place until he exited.

Show time.

I crossed him diagonally and bumped him hard enough that the book and pen I carried fell from my hands and crashed onto the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

He bent down and grasped my pen while I went for my book.

Our eyes locked and he grinned.

“No need to apologize,” he said.

I took my pen from his hand and our eyes connected again. This time I held his gaze a bit longer and smiled a half-sweet, half-seductive smile.

“Well,” I said, “thanks again.”

I turned and started for the door.

“Wait just a minute,” he said.

Hook, line, and sinker. It was too easy.

“At least give me your name before you leave.”

“Alright then. It’s Sloane.”

He stuck out his free hand.

“Good to meet you Sloane, I’m Parker.”

“Nice flowers,” I said.

He scrutinized them for a moment like he forgot they were there.

“Oh these, I bought them for my mother,” he said. “It’s her birthday tonight.”

It sounded truthful enough, but his eyes told a different story.

“Well, Parker. Nice to meet you,” I said.

“You live around here?”

“Not too far,” I said.

“I haven’t seen you before. I’m sure I would have remembered.”

“Big city,” I said.

He shook his head.

“I meant here at Lakewood. Are you a resident?”

“Oh, right.” I said. “Not yet. I’m in the market though so I thought I’d check it out.”

“I see.”

“What about you, do you live here?” I said.

“Sometimes.”

“And other times?” I said.

“I have a house in Park City, but I travel a lot for work. My family has a private jet so I can’t complain.”

One would assume that line fascinated the ladies. A man with a house in Park City, a townhome on the side, a private jet, and a sports car that looked like a hornet. Most women would find him hard to resist. I wasn’t most women.

He looked at his watch.

“Would you recommend this place?” I said.

He nodded.

“My townhouse isn’t like the others you’ve probably seen. You can take a look at it if you like.”

“That’s nice of you, but I don’t want to––”

“I insist,” he said.

He glanced at his watch again.

“How about tomorrow?” he said.

“Sounds great.”

“I’m number 312. Does eleven o’clock work for you?”

I nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I said. “Oh, and enjoy your mother’s birthday party.”

He picked a lily from the bouquet of flowers and extended it to me.

“I look forward to tomorrow.”

“Me too,” I said.

More than he knew.

CHAPTER 18

Parker had been so swept up in our tête-à-tête he failed to notice the bug I planted on him during my little mishap. Now I just needed it to pay off. I hoofed it through the parking garage and ensured his car remained in its space, and then waited for the fun to begin. I passed the time by running blondies plates. They belonged to one Zoey Kendrick with an address off 18th and Walnut in Sugarhouse.

There was a knock on Parker’s door, followed by the click-clack of heels. Blondie perhaps?

“I’ve missed you,” Parker said.

I wondered how much you could miss a person you spent time with a few hours earlier.

They shuffled around and then kissed.

“For you,” Parker said.

“They’re beautiful,” a woman’s voice said.

“And you’re even more beautiful.”

“Come, sit down,” he said. “Tell me about your life since I last saw you. I want to know everything.”

“I’ve been good.”

“Are you happy to see me?” he said.

“Of course.”

I wasn’t convinced. Something about the tone in her voice wasn’t right.

“Why don’t you lie down on the bed and let me give you a back rub, it will be just like old times.”

There was urgency in his voice and a sense of inquietude in hers.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said.

“The flowers were enough.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said.

She was silent.

“Take your clothes off,” he said.

The man wasted no time.

“But I thought…”

“Our dinner reservations aren’t for another hour,” he said. “That gives us plenty of time, and I don’t want to waste another minute of it.”

“You said we could take it slow.”

“There’s no need to play coy with me. I want you,” he said.

“Can’t we talk? I just got here.”

“Come on Daniela, please,” he said. “Don’t make me beg.”

Daniela? Unless blondie changed her name in the past few hours the proverbial poster boy of love lacked a faithful bone in his cheating, philandering body.

The bed creaked.

“Would you like to remove your clothes or should I do it for you?” he said.

She didn’t respond.

“Fine,” he said. “If that’s the way you want it.”

There was movement on the bed and then something ripped.

“Stop, you’re hurting me.”

“And what about me, Daniela? Have you considered what you’re doing to me, haven’t I treated you nice? I bought you beautiful flowers, I made arrangements for an expensive dinner for the two of us, and this is how you show your appreciation––by refusing me.”

“Stop it Parker, please.”

“ Stop it Parker, you’re hurting me ,” he said.

His attempt to taunt her went unanswered.

“I’ll teach you to refuse me you ungrateful bitch.”

His voice took on an incensed tone, a far cry from the gentleman that wooed me earlier that evening.

“Don’t move,” he said.

I turned the key in the ignition and slammed my foot on the petal. I didn’t want to blow our meeting the next day, but no woman deserved this.

There was a crash and then a thud and something hit the ground.

“Get back here!” he said.

The door slammed.

I pulled up in front of the building and a dark-haired woman sprinted out. One look at her disheveled hair and bare feet and I knew I had the right woman.

“Daniela,” I said, “get in.”

“Why should I, I don’t know you.”

“I’m a friend. Trust me please.”

“I…I don’t know.”

I grabbed the door handle and pushed the door open.

“It’s okay,” I said, “let me get you out of here.”

CHAPTER 19

“Who are you, and how do you know my name?”

I owed her an explanation, but how much of one I wanted to give, I didn’t know.

“Where to?” I said.

“Cottonwood Heights.”

“Are you okay?” I said.

She shook her head.

“And Parker?”

“His family jewels might be sore for a while, but I’m sure he’ll survive. He always does. Wait, how did you…?”

“How do you know Parker?” I said.

She gazed at me.

“You first.”

“It’s a long story. He’s the ex-boyfriend of a friend of mine’s sister. Have you known him long?”

“About a year.”

“Were you two involved?” I said.

“If you mean in a romantic way, yeah.”

“For how long?” I said.

“About nine months. I broke it off a couple weeks ago.”

It crossed my mind that Charlotte found out about his dirty little secret and that she paid for it with her life.

“Why did you break up?” I said.

She sighed and looked out my car window.