Traitorous Heart 3
TRAITOROUS HEART
Volume 3
Breena Wilde
B Wilde Books
www.breenawilde.blogspot.com
COPYRIGHT
Traitorous Heart: #3
Copyright © 2014 Breena Wilde
Breena Wilde Books
Digital Edition
This book in its entirety is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard word of this author.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the author, Breena Wilde, P.O. Box 1408 Bountiful, UT 84011.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover by: Steven Novak www.novakillustration.com
Edited by: MJ Heiser www.cleanleaf.weebly.com
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to rock star groupies and to those who want to know who-done-it.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Afterword
About the Author
Breena’s Books
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to my awesome cover artist, Steven Novak; to my editor at Clean Leaf Editing, Mary Johnson Heiser; and especially to my family for making the stories in my head become a reality. You’re all rock stars to me.
TRAITOROUS HEART
Volume 3
Sex with a rock star + a murder = Katie Jayne’s life.
Summary:
Katie wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted a husband and 2.5 kids. What she got was a jerk ex-fiancé and a best friend accused of murder. She can’t do anything about her ex’s death, but she can do everything in her power to prove Birdy’s innocence.
Then there's Griffin, the rock god billionaire who’s also the lead singer of Crushed Velvet. The sex with him is amazing, addictive and delicious. It’s also over. It has to be. Katie needs to focus on her friend.
Besides, Katie heard Griffin and his band went to L.A. to sign a record deal. Long distance friendships don’t even last, let alone whatever she and Griffin had. Great sex isn’t the stuff of eternal love.
And then there’s Cage Devereux, the attorney handling Birdy’s case. The cocky ex-marine dresses like a millionaire, talks about the Rangers like they are all that matters, and has a mouth like a sailor. He’s infuriating, and Katie can’t stop thinking about him.
CHAPTER 1
Katie
The 13th Precinct was on 21st street, New York, New York. It was a rather unassuming building: tan brick divided by dirty windows, except for the top row, which was stained glass. It could’ve been an apartment building from the way it looked on the outside. The only thing that distinguished it from the wall of buildings was the American flag hanging from a flagpole above the door.
A slight wind blew and I pushed some stray hair off my face. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself, pulled open the heavy plate-glass door, and walked to the front desk.
A balding male police officer sat behind the desk. His head shone like a polished bowling ball, gleaming in the fluorescent lights. “I’m here to see Bird… I mean Pamela Bird.”
He glanced up, his bloodshot eyes giving me a once over. “Name?”
“Katie Jayne.”
“License?”
“What?” I was confused. Did he want my lawyer’s license or my private investigator’s license? I didn’t have either. I’d discovered that, to be an official PI, I needed a lot more than a cool name, like Katie Jayne, PI. I needed logged hours working under an actual private investigator. I needed to study and take a test.
He sighed. “I need to see your driver’s license or some form of ID, Miss.”
“Oh.” I opened my purse, took my license from my wallet, and held it out.
His meaty hand pulled it from my grasp. “Just a moment.” I watched him type some information on the computer. “Says here your name is Dandelion.”
Usually the name got at least a snicker. The man gave me a blank stare. Stupid. Fucking. Name.
Um, yes, that’s my given name, but I go by Katie.”
Uh-huh.” He picked up a phone receiver.
As I waited I turned to check out the waiting area. Plastic chairs were placed in rows. The morning light shone through the old stained-glass windows, casting colorful lights against the walls and floor.
A few people milled about, including a man in a bomber hat. He was at the drinking fountain, slurping like he hadn’t had water in weeks. One of the flaps on his bomber hat was missing, emphasizing his dirty ear. His tan coat was covered in stains, as were his pants. On his feet were slippers. When he’d had his fill of water, he shuffled over to a seat, the slippers’ plastic soles dragging against the concrete.
“Go in. The inmate is waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, turning back and smiling at the balding man with rosy cheeks.
He smirked.
So he wasn’t the friendly sort. I put my hand out, expecting him to hand me back my license, but the pudgy officer shook his head. “You’ll get it back when you’re finished.”
“Okay.” I stuck my wallet back in my purse and went to the steel door, grabbing the handle. The door clicked open. I went through.
“Leave your purse in one of those lockers. Shut the door, turn the orange key, take it out, and bring it to me. I’ll hold it until you return.” The female officer pointed toward a room filled with small steel lockers as she spoke.
I went over and did as she said, then handed her the key. She snapped a picture of me. “Name?” she asked without looking up.
“Katie.” I cleared my throat. “Um, Katie Jayne.”
She glanced up, her eyebrows arched in question. “That isn’t what it says in our system. Want to try again?”
I sighed. Damn my parents and their hippie-dippy ways.
“Name,” she repeated.
“Dandelion Katelyn Jayne,” I answered, feeling like a complete idiot.
The officer smiled, flashing a toothy grin. “Fucking parents, right?”
I nodded.
She typed a few more strokes on the keyboard and then said, “Come and stand on the shoe prints.” She got up and walked over to the edge of her desk. I saw the green shoe prints and stood. “Lift your arms and don’t move.”
I did as she said.
She picked up a wand similar to those used at airports. “Any metal in your pockets or shoes?”
I shook my head. “No.”
She waved the wand along the sleeves of my corduroy navy jacket, down the side of my tan slacks, along my navy pumps, between my legs, and up the other side. “Open your jacket, please.” I did and she stuck the wand along my white button down shirt. “Turn around.”
I did and felt the wand touch my wet hair. I’d thrown it a semi-professional bun. It looked nearly
black, it was so dark. I’d showered when I got home, feeling the need to wash Griffin off me. I needed him out of my system, his yummy scent off my skin. It was the only way I could pretend I didn’t want to see him again. Too bad I couldn’t scrub him from my mind.
“You’re good,” she said, heading back to her seat. “Last door on your right. Do not try to enter any other doors, otherwise Butch here will take serious issue with you.”
CHAPTER 2
Katie
A man appeared from the room behind her. He looked like a linebacker, probably stood six foot six and weighed three hundred pounds. His head was shaved and his dark eyes glared.
“You said the right, correct?” I asked, swallowing. I didn’t want Butch to have an issue with me.
“You got it.”
I pulled my jacket tight around me and walked down the hall. When I reached what looked like the last door I fucking made sure and then opened it. When Butch didn’t come after me, I walked in and closed the door.
Birdy sighed when she saw me.
“Hey Birdy.” I sat on the only available chair.
The room was split in two by thick glass. Several holes had been drilled into it. I guessed that was so we could hear each other better. Birdy sat on the opposite side. Her shoulders were slumped. She wore a slinky black dress. Her blond curls were ragged and her makeup was smeared. She looked tired.
“Katie. I’m so glad you came.” Her voice didn’t have the rich confidence I was used to hearing.
“Of course,” I said, placing a hand on the glass.
She reached up and put her hand against mine. “Can you fucking believe this?” she asked.
“No, I can’t.” I pulled my hand away and picked at a nonexistent hangnail. “Tell me what happened?”
Before she could start, the door opened. I had an immediate fear that Butch was coming after me. I hadn’t picked the wrong door. But when I turned I was shocked to see an extremely hot man in the doorway.
“Oh my god,” Birdy said under her breath.
My mouth fell open. Exactly. I pressed my thighs together.
“My name is Cage Devereux.” He walked in and closed the door. “Your father asked me to come down and talk to you.” He addressed Birdy, but his eyes flicked momentarily to me and then settled on her.
She stood and leaned into the glass.
I forced myself not to pant.
Cage looked like he’d just come from a photo shoot. His charcoal gray suit fit him perfectly; in fact, it almost looked painted on. His shoulders were broad. Thick arms strained against the sleeves to where I could almost make out where his biceps met the triceps. He had a tapered waist and wore a white button-down tucked in. His tie was deep red, the signature Bird, Morgan, and Childress color.
“Cage Devereux, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her voice was breathy.
And then he smiled. Holy fucking hell. Soft lips turned up to reveal white teeth. One of his front teeth was chipped, and I exhaled. An imperfection. It made him even sexier.
“And I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms. Pamela Bird.” He moved closer. “You’ve recently graduated from Harvard Law School, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.” She sat back down.
He glanced around the small room, suddenly realizing there was only one chair. I could’ve stood and given him mine, but the door opened again. This time it was Butch.
“Brought you a chair, Mr. Devereux.”
“Appreciate it.” Cage took the chair and placed it next to mine. Once he sat, he addressed me. Finally. “And who might you be?” The clasps on his briefcase snapped opened. “Let me guess,” he went on before I could answer. “You are Dandelion Katelyn Jayne.”
I flinched at the use of my real name. Cage smirked and continued.
“Born to Harold and Daisy Jayne twenty—”
“Does age really matter?” I interrupted.
He chuckled. It was rich and deep. “I suppose not.” He stuck out his hand. “Cage Devereux,” he said when I took it.
“Have you filed for a hearing so that I can get out of here? Orange is not my color.” Birdy glanced down at her black dress. “Also, I could use a shower.”
Cage pulled a file from his briefcase and clicked open a pen. “Did you want Dandelion to stay?”
I shuddered. “It’s Katie.”
He winked. “But Dandelion is such a sweet name.”
“Just, don’t,” I said, glaring.
“Yes, Katie can stay.” Birdy emphasized my name.
He schooled his features. “Then let’s begin.”
I faced Birdy. She’d been about to tell me what happened when Cage came in.
“Walk me through what happened.”
Birdy gave me a quick glance. “Reid texted me about nine-thirty asking if I could come over.” She didn’t look at Cage or me, but at her nails. They had a French manicure, but one nail was broken and Birdy picked at it while she talked.
“What did he want?” Cage asked.
“He said he wanted to talk about Katie. I agreed because I intended to tell him to leave Katie the hell alone.” She gave me a strange look. I was about to ask her what she was thinking, but Cage asked another question.
“What time did you get to his place?” He didn’t look at her, just continued to take notes on his yellow notepad. I thought about telling him we were in the twenty-first century and there were laptops and other electronic devices available. Instead I kept quiet. Watching him write while he talked was sexy.
“It was around ten fifteen. I know because I got a text from my mom reminding me of our Botox appointment this morning.” She checked the clock attached on the white brick wall. “I’m supposed to be there in three hours. You think she knows I’m in jail?” She snorted and I joined in.
“It isn’t noon yet.”
“Right. Rabid zombies couldn’t rouse her this early. She sleeps deader than the dead.” Birdy laughed and then started to cry. “I want to get out of here.”
“I know, Birdy. I know.” I turned to Cage. “Have you filed a motion—”
“I have.” He checked his watch. “Her arraignment is first thing tomorrow morning. She’ll need a change of clothes and to freshen up,” he said, giving her a once over.
Birdy smoothed down the front of her dress, not that it did any good. “Will you bring me my cherry red Christian Dior suit with the white top and my matching red pumps?”
“You might want something more subtle. You’ve been charged with murder.”
“Fuck, you’re right.” She stage-whispered: “The man is smart and hotter than Griffin.”
I rolled my eyes, catching his gorgeous face in my peripheral view. He was gorgeous, but Griffin was so much more than rock-god-hot. He was also amazing in bed and a lot of fun to play Clue with. My mind went to what we’d been doing not too many hours ago and the way he felt inside me.
“Why are you red?” Birdy asked, even though it was obvious she knew the answer.
My hands went to my face. It was hot. “Nothing,” I whispered, giving her my shut-up look. “I’ll bring your gray suit, same shirt, and black Prada heels.”
Cage didn’t seem fazed by Birdy and me. He asked another question. “When you arrived, was Reid alive?”
CHAPTER 3
Griffin
Katie left at seven in the morning¸ just after the sun rose. Neither of us had slept. We’d done plenty of other things, though. I’d asked if she wanted me to come with her to talk to Birdy, but she declined, which was probably for the best.
Birdy hadn’t told Katie about Reid, about how well they knew each other. That surprised me, especially since they seemed tight. Maybe Birdy was embarrassed. She and Reid had a past—a rocky, sexual past. They’d dated in high school. I knew that for sure. She’d come to me for a shoulder on several occasions about the asshole.
I didn’t feel it was my place to tell Katie that. Though I hoped Birdy would, and soon.
I quickly took another shower. When I
got out my cell phone rang. I quickly wrapped a towel around my hips and answered.
“What up, Brian?”
“Did you hear about Birdy? She was arrested for murder.”
“Yeah, man. I did.” I walked out of the bathroom. “She thinks you killed Reid.”
“No way,” he shouted. I heard the shock in his voice. “I haven’t seen that guy since I threatened him with a tennis racket.”
“Really? How scared was he? Shaking in his loafers?”
“Whatev, man. It wasn’t my finest moment.”
I chuckled, pulling off my towel and tossing it in the nearly full hamper.
“The guy was a douche, no doubt, but I’m not a killer.”
“Yeah, man. I know. I’m sure Birdy is freaked.” I put the phone to my ear and pulled on my last clean pair of jeans. It was a good thing my housekeeper Alice would be around to do my laundry today. “I hope you have an alibi for last night, though. I’m sure that Birdy’s lawyer and probably the police will be by to question your whereabouts.”
“Shit. I was home alone.”
I pulled a white tee shirt over my head, maneuvering the phone. “Just tell the truth. It’ll be fine. See you at the band meeting later?”
“The Attic, right?”
“Six p.m.” I hung up and tossed the phone on the rumpled bed, eyeing the messy covers fondly. Katie and I were good together, really good. I headed back into the bathroom to put on deodorant, gel my hair, and shave.
While I got ready, I thought of Katie, about the time we spent together. It surprised me how much she was on my mind. The song I’d been writing for her came to mind. I sang the words aloud:
Her body feathers mine
Fire stokes my veins