Finding Shayla Page 15

  “I want to make sure he knows to leave you alone. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll take care of him.”

  “I’d rather not talk about him anymore,” Shayla said.

  “I get that. Okay. No more talk of evil man. Let’s talk about us.”

  “What about us?” Shayla was scared.

  “Do you have any idea how I feel about you?”

  “I think so. Pretty much how I feel about you I’d guess.”

  “I can’t wait until I can show you. I’m patient though. I know you’re worth the wait.”

  “Thank you, Jazz. That means everything to me.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Shayla was a nervous wreck. She was about to be interviewed about her new part on Wit’s End. It was for a new behind-the-scenes feature that was being added to the show. Her interview would air after an episode this season to make fans want to watch the next season. With her in it.

  She’d read her part, studied it carefully, and felt she knew it well. She would begin shooting the following week. She had to know her lines. But she was still nervous about the interview.

  She dressed carefully and with Jazz’s help. They’d chosen a gray pencil skirt with a black sweater. She looked dynamic, approachable, and like an up and coming star. Shayla was so grateful for Jazz’s input. Jazz helped her get her dark wig situated and supervised placing brown contacts in her eyes. Shayla was ready.

  Rhonda Sexton, a beautiful woman with auburn hair and smiling eyes, approached her.

  “Alexis?” she said. “You must be Alexis Murdoch.”

  Shayla almost didn’t recognize her stage name. She smiled and stood.

  “That’s me. You’ll have to excuse me. I’m a bit nervous.”

  “You just relax. All you have to do is answer questions. I’ll do the rest.”

  “Thank you. I’ll try.”

  The interview went very well. Jazz had insisted on coming and was just out of sight behind the lights. Her presence helped Shayla when she felt herself getting nervous. She finally calmed down and focused on Rhonda. The interview lasted two hours even though the bit would only be about ten minutes.

  “I think we’ve got enough.” Rhonda stood and the lights went off. “You did wonderfully, Alexis. Just wonderfully.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for being such a gracious hostess.”

  “My pleasure. I hope I’ll be seeing more of you,” Rhonda said.

  “Me, too.”

  Jazz stepped onto the stage then and hugged Shayla tight.

  “You were wonderful. Just wonderful. Let’s go celebrate.”

  Shayla thanked Rhonda again, took Jazz’s outstretched hand, and walked with her to her car.

  “What are we going to do to celebrate?” Shayla said.

  “Dinner and a show. A musical. What do you think?”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  And it was wonderful. They ate at the top of a high rise where they had a view of the whole city. And what a view it was. It was only four thirty, but the sky was darkening. The buildings were all lit up and it took Shayla’s breath away.

  But nothing took her breath away like the sight of Jazz sitting across the table from her. Jazz was wearing black jeans with a black turtleneck under a black blazer. She was gorgeous. And she took such good care of Shayla. Shayla’s stomach knotted as she tried to formulate a question she was hoping she’d like the answer to.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said.

  “Dangerous.” Jazz laughed.

  “You know how you’ve said I should get rid of my room at the hotel?”

  “Sure.”

  “I think I’m ready. That is, if you still want me to.”

  Jazz’s whole face lit up.

  “Of course, I want you to.”

  “Are you sure? Even though I won’t, you know…”

  “Won’t what?”

  Shayla lowered her voice.

  “Even though I’m not ready for sex?”

  Jazz took Shayla’s hands.

  “Baby, that has nothing to do with you moving in with me. And you know I’m willing to wait. When you’re ready, believe me, I’ll be here.”

  Shayla felt such an overwhelming sense of relief. She was so thankful that Jazz was as patient as she was. Anyone else would have surely told Shayla to get lost. And Jazz had such a reputation as a lady killer, Shayla was shocked she was willing to wait for her.

  A man walked into the restaurant who looked just like Robin. They could have been twins. Shayla felt nauseous. No. Robin was dead. He wasn’t going to find her and ruin her new life.

  Jazz looked worried and turned in her seat to see what had caused such a reaction in Shayla. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

  “Are you okay?” she said.

  Shayla wanted to be okay. She really did. She was tired of the flashbacks, but they continued their onslaught. She pictured Robin laying on the floor with the back of his head smashed in. The blood. There was so much blood. And brain matter. And she’d done it.

  She fled from the table and ran to the restroom where she threw up until there was nothing left. She stepped out of the stall to see Jazz standing there. She pulled Shayla into a hug.

  “I wish I could chase your demons away,” she said.

  “Me too,” she whispered against Jazz’s neck.

  She rinsed her mouth.

  “Do you want to go back to the penthouse?” Jazz said.

  “No. I hope I haven’t ruined your evening.”

  “You couldn’t if you tried.”

  ***

  Cayenne was frustrated. She was tired of the small town. She needed to get out and get to a city. A real city. Not like Casa Grande. Her heart cried out for Houston, but she knew better than to go back there.

  Her campaign had taken off and she knew she wanted to be sheriff again. She just needed to get away for a while. It was October and the temperature was close to ninety degrees. She needed cool. She wanted to see the change in seasons.

  She researched online and found a place not much bigger than Lazu that was celebrating Women’s Week. It was in Massachusetts. It wasn’t a city, but maybe it would do her heart good. She called a department meeting the following day.

  “I’m taking a week off,” she said. “I need to get away for a while. I’ll have my phone and will fly back at a moment’s notice if you need me. Farris is in charge while I’m gone. Any questions?”

  “Where ya goin’, boss?” Farris said.

  “A place called Provincetown. I’ve never heard of it. It’s on Cape Cod and I think it’s just where I need to go to clear my head.”

  “Clear your head? We haven’t had much going on around here.”

  “We still have a murder investigation open, lest you forget. And I haven’t even interviewed a single suspect yet.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Farris said.

  Cayenne left the following weekend. She flew into Boston where she spent a day enjoying the city. Then she drove to Provincetown. The drive was easy. And beautiful. Leaves were a variety of colors.

  When she drove into town, the first thing she saw were rainbow flags. Everywhere. On almost every house. She knew she was in the right spot. She arrived at her rental relaxed and ready to enjoy whatever this little supposed gem had to offer.

  She unpacked and decided to go for a walk. Not knowing what she was doing, she decided to head up Commercial Street. It seemed to be a good place to start. She walked and walked and walked and was rejuvenated by the cool, crisp, autumn air and the sight of thousands of lesbians.

  They were everywhere. Holding hands, drifting in and out of the small shops that lined the street, and gathered in groups simply standing around and talking. Cayenne was in heaven. She found a dark little bar called Governor Bradford’s and went in for a beer. The bartender seemed almost bothered to have to serve her, but Cayenne soon had her talking and she stayed there for the next several hours.

  “Where’s a good place to eat?”
Cayenne asked Kim, the bartender.

  “Well, we have a restaurant that’s really good.”

  “I think I need to get out of here for a while. See what else this cute town has to offer.”

  “I’d recommend the Lobster Pot. It’s right across the street. Food’s excellent.”

  “Great. Thanks.” She threw a wad of cash on the bar. “See you tomorrow, Kim.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  Cayenne went across the street and had a delicious dinner. Then she wandered further along Commercial Street. She followed the sound of smooth jazz and ended up in an upscale bar. Much nicer than Governor Bradford’s and Cayenne questioned for a moment if she was underdressed.

  She looked around the club though and realized there were many different styles there. Some dressier. Some more casual. She settled in with a whisky and enjoyed the tunes. She noticed one table with a couple of women at it. They kept looking over at her. She finally decided to see what was going on. She crossed the bar to their table.

  “Is my fly unzipped?” she said.

  Both women, youngish with dark hair, blushed.

  “Would you like to sit down?” one of them said.

  “Sure. But only if you tell me why you were staring at me.”

  “My friend thinks you’re hot,” she said.

  Cayenned looked over at her friend who looked mortified.

  “Well, that’s flattering. I’m Cayenne.”

  “I’m Jenny and my friend is Ashley.”

  Ashley apparently had lost the ability to speak, which entertained Cayenne no end.

  “Nice to meet you. Where are you two from?”

  “New York.”

  “The city or the state?” Cayenne said.

  “The state. And you?”

  “Arizona.”

  “Wow. I’ve never met anyone from Arizona,” Ashley found her voice.

  “Well now you have.”

  The women were pleasant, and it was nice to be found attractive, but they were way too young for Cayenne. She bought the table a round and, when she finished her drink, excused herself and walked back to her condo.

  Not bad, she thought. Not bad at all. She was glad she had chosen this place for her vacation destination.

  The next day was cold and rainy. Too cold for Cayenne’s Arizona blood. She found a store that sold jackets and bought one, unsure of how she was going to get it home. She stopped at a place called the Purple Feather and had the most delicious hot chocolate of her life.

  She wandered into Governor Bradford’s and ordered an Irish Coffee. It was warm, strong, and delicious. She decided to stay put and see if the weather would break. But it didn’t break so Cayenne and Kim became fast friends.

  “I’m about off now,” Kim said. “You want to settle your tab?”

  “No thanks. Here. This is for you.”

  She handed Kim a twenty-dollar bill.

  “Thank you. Say, would you like to go grab some dinner?”

  “Seriously? You want me to go out in this?”

  The rain was falling harder and the wind was blowing it horizontally.

  “Sure. Unless you have other plans.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I know a great place,” Kim said.

  Cayenne thought long and hard. More time with Kim definitely wouldn’t be a bad thing. She was attractive, smart, and funny.

  “Okay.” She sighed. “Let’s do this.”

  Kim took her to a place called Napi’s. She insisted Cayenne try the Portuguese soup, which was delicious. They finished dinner and Kim smiled at Cayenne.

  “I never do this. I mean, like, never. But would you like to come back to my place for a drink?”

  Cayenne was tempted. Sorely tempted. But she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t feeling it.

  “I’ll tell you what. Let’s plan on dinner again tomorrow night. Then we’ll go back to my place. How does that sound?”

  “So… it’s not a complete rejection?”

  Cayenne laughed. “Not at all.”

  “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  Cayenne walked back down Commercial Street. She heard music again and stepped into another bar to have a drink and dry off. There was live music and the woman singing was stellar. Cayenne ended up staying until closing and hurried home through the rain.

  She climbed into bed and reflected on the past couple of days. She wondered if Provincetown needed a sheriff. She could live here. Then she remembered the cold rain and realized there was no way in hell she’d survive the winter there.

  But she sure was enjoying her vacation there. She still had several days left. Days that might include getting laid. How nice would that be? She was long, long overdue. And here in Provincetown, she had nothing hanging over her head. No cases, no murder investigations, no Shayla. Shayla? Where was she? Cayenne resolved anew to find her. And to bring her to Provincetown with her. She fell asleep with that thought on her mind.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The next few days flew by for Cayenne. Provincetown was a little slice of heaven, to be sure. And she knew she’d be back. She spent her mornings wandering Commercial Street, seeing people and being seen by people.

  She spent her afternoons at Governor Bradford’s and her evenings with Kim. Kim tried hard to get Cayenne to bed, but Cayenne stood strong. She liked Kim but didn’t have any strong feelings for her. While this had never deterred Cayenne in the past, for some reason she just couldn’t take that final step and go to bed with Kim.

  They went to clubs together, danced and drank, and ended up back at Kim’s place for a nightcap. They sat in front of the fire and sometimes kissed, but mostly just talked. Kim was a fascinating woman with a seemingly checkered past.

  Cayenne never admitted to Kim that she was a sheriff. And she kept her mouth shut when Kim talked of the early days of Provincetown and all the cocaine she snorted. She said nothing when Kim told her she’d moved to the quaint village to escape shoplifting charges. She judged, yes, but said nothing.

  And the stories Kim told her did nothing to light a fire within her. She wasn’t into criminals, no matter how attractive. Except Shayla. Who wasn’t really a criminal. Cayenne was still certain she had acted in self-defense.

  She still wasn’t sure why she couldn’t get Shayla out of her mind. She supposed it was the sheer terror in her eyes when they’d been about to make love. Cayenne wanted to make that fear go away. She wanted to show Shayla what lovemaking really was.

  It didn’t hurt that Shayla was a blonde bombshell. She was drop dead gorgeous. But mostly it was the fear and self-loathing that Cayenne wanted to drive away. She wanted to make Shayla whole again. But, when she found her, would Shayla be the least bit interested?

  Friday night, Cayenne and Kim were in a pub listening to music. They danced and drank, and Kim made it apparent she was tired of waiting.

  “Are you going to make love to me tonight?” she said.

  “Kim, look. I really like you. But I’m not into one-night stands,” she lied. “And I’m not looking for a long-distance relationship.”

  “So you’ve just been stringing me along all week?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I think I’ve been saying no loud and clear.”

  “You know what, Cayenne? Fuck you. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.” She threw her drink in Cayenne’s face and stormed out of the club.

  A beautiful blonde was there with a towel.

  “Not going the way you thought it would?” she smiled sympathetically.

  “Not going the way she thought it would, apparently.”

  “I’m sorry she caused a scene. And she got you all wet. It’s too cold out there to be wandering around in wet clothes.”

  “It’s just my shirt. Now that my face is dry. Thank you though.”

  “Kim’s a hothead,” the woman said. “Don’t let her darken your views of this town or the people in it. We’re not all like her.”
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br />   “I appreciate that.” Cayenne handed the woman her towel back. “Thanks.”

  She had another drink and listened to the music for a while. She stepped out into the frigid night and saw the blonde having a cigarette.

  “Are you off now?” Cayenne said.

  “I am.”

  “Can I buy you a drink for being so nice to me?”

  “I’d like that,” the woman said. “I’m Bennie.”

  “Nice to meet you, Bennie. I’m Cayenne.”

  “Let me just run in to the restroom and I’ll be right back out, okay?”

  “I’ll be here.” Cayenne slipped her hands into her coat pockets. She was freezing and hoped Bennie wouldn’t take too long. She could see her breath. Something that never happened in Lazu. She missed the heat then. She missed her town. She’d been gone long enough and was happy to be driving back to Boston the following day.

  Bennie was back in no time, smelling minty fresh, and they walked to a pub that had live music, pool and ping pong tables, and an overall laid-back atmosphere. The game tables were all being used, so Bennie and Cayenne took a table and sat listening to the singer.

  “She’s really good,” Cayenne said. “Is she from Provincetown?”

  “No. She’s from Maine. But she comes here twice a year. Once in the summer and then for Women’s Week.”

  “Nice.”

  Bennie nodded. They sat there for several hours and Cayenne was disappointed when Bennie said she had to leave.

  “I need to get up early tomorrow,” she said. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”

  “Thank you. I’ll head out, too. I’ve got to drive back to Boston tomorrow. Though I wish I could spend more time here.”

  “You won’t be missing anything. Most businesses just stay open through Women’s Week and then close for the season. This place’ll be a ghost town come Monday.”

  “Is that right?” Cayenne couldn’t imagine the place, which was teeming with people, empty.

  “Yep. Thanks again for a lovely time, Cayenne. If you come back to PTown, look me up.”

  “I will. Take care.”

  The next morning, she drove back to Boston and spent the afternoon seeing the sights. By seven o’clock she was tired, cold, and hungry. She stopped for a bowl of clam chowder then went back to her hotel. She’d thought she’d hit a women’s club for dancing and maybe more, but she was just too wiped out. She’d had a wonderful week off, but it was time to get home.