Dance With Me Read online

“I have a photo of it,” she says and brings it up on her phone to show me. “It’s a simple gold band.”

  I look at Anderson, who looks back at me.

  “Is it engraved inside?”

  “No.” She sniffs once more.

  “Is anything else missing? Any other jewelry?”

  “No. That’s why it has to be Jeremy that did it.”

  “Jeremy?” I raise a brow. “You know who did this?”

  She nods and starts to cry again. “He’s obsessed with me. He won’t leave me alone.”

  Anderson and I share another look.

  “Is he stalking you?” I ask.

  “Absolutely. We work together, and I’ve told him I don’t want to jeopardize my job. I mean, he’s cute and all, but it’s not worth losing my job over. He just won’t take no for an answer, and he knows that ring means a lot to me, so he took it just to hurt me.”

  I frown. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it won’t hurt to have a conversation with Jeremy.

  “Fran, what’s Jeremy’s last name?”

  “My name is Francesca,” she bites out, glaring at me. “I didn’t give you permission to call me Fran.”

  “My apologies.” I glance around the room again. “Do you mind if I look around?”

  “Why? I told you what I’m missing.”

  “Someone was in your home without your permission,” I remind her, watching her closely. “I’d just like to take a quick look.”

  “Fine.”

  She dissolves into another puddle of tears, and I know Anderson won’t like babysitting her, but I leave him with her while I walk the space. The house is small and simply decorated. Nothing fancy. The woman who lives here is tidy but clearly doesn’t make a ton of money.

  There’s nothing here that screams foul play.

  When I return to the living area, Francesca is snapping at my partner.

  “I saw the way you looked at me.”

  “I wasn’t looking at you, ma’am.”

  “Now I’m a ma’am?” She stands and pokes her finger into his chest. “I don’t like you.”

  “You don’t have to like him,” I interrupt, pissed now. “And you’d best not touch him again, or I’ll arrest you for assault of a police officer.”

  “He was looking at me.”

  “He won’t be looking anymore. We’re done here.” I nod at Anderson, and he immediately turns and walks out of the house. “I’ll call you if the ring turns up. It would help if you’d tell me Jeremy’s last name.”

  “Lubbock,” she says. “Like the city. Please talk to him and tell him to leave me alone.”

  “I’ll talk to him. If you’re that afraid of him, you can take out a restraining order.”

  “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that,” she says with a sigh.

  I tip my head and leave, closing the door behind me, then walk down to Anderson and the uniform at the end of the sidewalk.

  “You can remove the tape and go,” I say to the uniform. “We’re done here.”

  “Yes, sir,” he says.

  Anderson and I get in the car.

  “Pull up a Jeremy Lubbock. We’ll go pay him a visit.”

  “Got it,” Anderson says, pulling up the name on his phone. “Found him. She was a piece of work.”

  “She was interesting,” I agree, rubbing my fingertips over my mouth. “I didn’t believe a word she said.”

  “I didn’t either.”

  Jeremy lives about three miles away from Francesca. “I wonder what they do for a living that they’re both home this time of day?”

  “Looks like they work at the airport,” Anderson says. “Makes sense. Shift work.”

  “That would explain it,” I agree as I pull into the driveway behind a minivan. “Van. Could Jeremy be a family man?”

  “There are toys in the yard,” Anderson says with a sigh. “Well, shit.”

  “Shit indeed.”

  We get out of the car and walk to the front door. I ring the bell. A few seconds later, a woman in her early twenties with a baby on her hip opens the door.

  “Yes?” she says, her smile faltering.

  “I’m Detective Crawford, and this is my partner Officer Anderson.”

  “Oh God, is my dad okay?” she asks, tears filling her eyes.

  “We are not here to inform anyone of a death or accident,” I quickly assure her. “We’re looking for Jeremy Lubbock.”

  “Oh.” She blinks rapidly. “Of course. Come in.”

  We follow her inside.

  “Jer!”

  “I’m right here.” A tall, lean man is standing at the top of the staircase, watching us. He descends. “How can I help you?”

  “First, do you know a Francesca Smith?”

  He frowns, and his eyes dart to his wife, then back to me.

  “Yes. I work with her at the airport.”

  Good. Don’t lie to me.

  “She called in a burglary this morning and told us you’ve been harassing her at work. She’s pretty sure you stole her mother’s wedding band just to dick with her.”

  I watch them both carefully. How they react in the next second will tell me everything.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jeremy’s wife mutters, shaking her head. “I told you to call the cops two weeks ago.”

  Jeremy wipes his hand down his face. “Jesus.”

  “So, do you have the ring?” I ask.

  “Fuck, no,” he responds immediately. Now this guy, I believe. “I’m not the one who’s been pursuing her. She’s crazy, man.”

  “Batshit,” his wife agrees. “Show him the texts.”

  “There are texts?” I ask.

  “Oh, yeah. Here.” Jeremy takes his phone out and proceeds to show me pages and pages of disturbing text messages. “This is where they start, about three weeks ago when I started the job. At first, it wasn’t too crazy.”

  Can I call you?

  Are you alone?

  I think you’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met.

  “Why did she have your number?” Anderson asks.

  “I don’t know how she got it,” Jeremy replies. “And I’ve changed it three times since she started texting. She always finds the new one. I can prove that I changed it.”

  “I believe you.”

  I do. There’s no reason for him to lie to me about this, and as I flip through the texts, they get more and more disturbing.

  I know you’re there, you’re just not answering me. Is it because of that stupid Karen? I know you don’t really love her.

  “Are you Karen?”

  Jeremy’s wife nods soberly. “Yeah. She started texting me, too. Telling me to stay away from her man.”

  “Jesus,” Anderson mutters, reading over my shoulder.

  I want you to fuck me. I want you inside of me. I can make you so happy! I can make you come in ways you’ve never dreamed of.

  “Creepy,” I mutter, still flipping. Finally, I get to last night.

  I can ruin you, you asshole. You think I can’t? I can claim that you’ve stolen from me. I can tell the cops you raped me. That you’ve been after me for years, and no matter what I do, you won’t leave me alone. I can RUIN YOUR FUCKING LIFE!! I’m not joking, Jeremy.

  I raise a brow when I see the three dots winking at me at the bottom of the screen.

  “Seems she has something to say right now.”

  We wait a few moments, all four of us staring at the small screen, and then the message comes through.

  I told you I wouldn’t stop fighting for you. I warned you.

  “Looks like a whole bunch of threats to me,” Anderson says.

  “You can press charges for harassment,” I inform Jeremy. “Between all of the proof on your phone and the bogus call to us this morning, you’ll have no problems getting the charges to stick. I can go arrest her right now.”

  “Do it,” Karen says, her voice full of urgency. “Right now, on behalf of both of us. She’s been harassing me, too.”
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br />   “Agreed,” Jeremy says. “This is just nuts. And it’s not just me anymore. My wife doesn’t deserve this.”

  “Jeremy, before we go pick her up, I need you to be honest with me. Brutally honest, even with your wife standing right here. Have you ever had sex with Francesca Smith?”

  “No.” He looks me dead in the eye, his face hard with rage. “I’ve never touched her. I’ve barely spoken to her, and just at work. I love my wife.”

  “Okay, then.” I nod and ask Jeremy to take screenshots of all of the texts and send them to me. “We’ll go get her.”

  “Thank you,” Karen says. “Thank you so much.”

  “Well, that was a clusterfuck.” Anderson presses a wet rag to his neck where Francesca bit him, making him bleed.

  “One of the worst arrests I’ve been involved in, and I’ve seen plenty.” I collapse behind my desk and sigh. “You need to go have that cleaned out properly and file a report.”

  “I’m most pissed about the extra paperwork this is going to generate,” he says, shaking his head. I can’t help but agree.

  “I’m with you there. Go get stitched up and take the rest of the day off. In fact, I’m going to wrap up a few things and head out myself.”

  “Whoa. Detective Crawford of the SPD is taking time off?”

  I flip him off, but he grins.

  “You’re a legend for working more hours than anyone else. What gives?”

  I have a sexy redhead on my hands that I can’t wait to see again.

  But I don’t say that. I’d rather not be the laughing stock of the department.

  “Seeing your blood has me lightheaded,” I lie, earning an eye roll.

  “We’ve seen more blood than this.”

  “Are you going to go get stitched up before you pass out on my floor?”

  “Yes, sir.” He starts to walk away but stops himself and looks back at me. “Thank you. For teaching me.”

  “You’ve earned it. See you tomorrow. No calling in sick.”

  “No, sir.”

  I sigh and sit back in my chair. He’s right, leaving early isn’t my style. Before Starla, I’d hole up here for days on end, working through case after case.

  But now that I have her, I can’t get out of here fast enough.

  She asked Luke and Nat the other night when a person starts to realize that it’s time to slow down. When the priorities change.

  I already feel that, and I’d be a fucking liar if I said it didn’t scare me. Police work is all I know. It’s been my first love for all of my adult life. That changing is terrifying to me.

  But losing her is just as scary.

  I pick up my phone and shoot her a text.

  Leaving work early. Dinner?

  I smile when her message comes through.

  Chinese. I’m ordering. What do you want?

  Her. I want her. But for tonight, I’ll settle for Chinese.

  Chicken chow mein. Extra eggrolls, unless you want to share yours.

  I lock my office and walk through the bullpen to the parking garage.

  Extra eggrolls it is.

  ~Starla~

  I’m getting damn sick and tired of waking up in a cold, empty bed.

  Every night for the past week, Levi comes to my place. We have dinner, or we go out to eat. We walk along the waterfront. We make out a little—not nearly enough, if you ask me—and then he leaves.

  I go to bed alone. I wake up alone.

  It’s freaking ridiculous.

  I pad into the kitchen wearing a tank and yoga shorts, rubbing sleep from my eyes. My piano was delivered a few days ago, and I plan to sit at it all morning before I go to the studio with Jax and Meredith.

  I’ve fallen into a routine here, which is new and foreign to me, but it’s also soothing. I write in the morning, spend some time at the studio, and then I’m home in time to spend the evening with Levi. Over the weekend, I spent most of each day with Levi, exploring more of Seattle. He’s become a constant in my life, in a very short period of time.

  I don’t know what I would do if he were suddenly gone.

  And that thought scares me. Because just as I learned before, a person can be gone in the blink of an eye.

  I frown, carrying my bottle of water to the piano. I set it on the floor, not wanting to chance leaving a water ring on the gleaming wood of the instrument, and noodle the keys, playing songs I’ve already written. Some have been recorded, some haven’t yet.

  When I’m warmed up, I reach for my notebook of music paper and a pencil and dig in, running lines over and over.

  I know you want me to let you in

  But hearts are messy

  I frown. That doesn’t sound good.

  I know you want me to let you in

  But this door on my heart is locked

  Better. I write it down and then play the melody again. It’s soft, a gentle ballad that will likely be played at weddings someday.

  Before I know it, several hours have passed, and I think I have the song mostly worked out. The doorbell rings, pulling me out of my haze of creativity. I pad to the door and open it, surprised to see Joy and Lia smiling at me.

  “We brought lunch,” Joy announces, holding up a brown bag.

  “And margaritas,” Lia adds, making me grin. “We thought maybe you could use some friendly company.”

  Joy’s head tilts to the side. “But if we’re interrupting something—”

  “No, come in.” I move back so they can come inside, then shut the door behind them. “I’m sorry I’m still in my pajamas. I started writing as soon as I woke up and I haven’t taken a break.”

  “Have you eaten?” Lia asks.

  “Nope.”

  “Excellent,” Joy says with a grin. “Because we have some delicious Mexican food in here, along with the margaritas.”

  “It’s noon.” I frown at the time.

  “They’re virgin ones,” Lia says with a shrug. “Joy’s preggers, so no drinking liquor in front of her. Also, it’s Monday. And who couldn’t use a margarita on a Monday?”

  “I could,” Joy says, raising her hand. “Virgin or otherwise, they’re delish. What kind of song are you working on?”

  “A ballad.” I’m salivating at the sight of the chips and salsa Joy’s currently setting on my table. Food is a great idea. “Do you want to hear it?”

  “Yes,” they answer in unison, both grinning.

  “After you eat something,” Joy adds, passing me a taco.

  “Good call.” I take the taco and devour it in about four bites. “I was hungrier than I thought.”

  “I brought tons of food,” Lia assures me, passing me another taco. I pop a chip into my mouth and shimmy in my seat, happy to have them here.

  “When is the baby due?” I ask Joy, eyeing her barely-round belly.

  “This winter,” she says while rubbing her hands over her midsection. “So far, the morning sickness is gone. Now, I just want to eat everything in sight. I’ll gain a hundred pounds with this baby.”

  “No, you won’t,” Lia says, shaking her head. “You make good food choices. You can eat all the carrots you want.”

  “I don’t want carrots. I want Doritos.”

  “Maybe eat more carrots than Doritos,” I say with a laugh.

  “How are things with Levi?” Joy asks, earning a glare from Lia that says really? “What? It’s just a question.”

  “Things are good.” I reach for another taco. “He’s a great guy. Funny. Protective. Sexy as all get out.”

  “That’s a Crawford thing,” Joy says, nodding. “Sexy and smart.”

  “I just wish he’d use the sexiness a little more,” I confess. “He says we’re taking it slow, and it’s killing me.”

  “That’s sort of sweet, though,” Lia says thoughtfully. “That he doesn’t want to just jump into bed with you. Also, you should know, he’s not dating you because of the stardom.”

  “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if he was,” I say with a sigh.
“Because there have been plenty who have tried. None were successful. In fact, Levi’s the first guy I’ve dated since Rick’s accident.”

  Both women grow quiet, chewing thoughtfully. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I trust them, but I don’t know them well. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable.

  Why did I even say that?

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Lia says at last. “It must have been the most devastating thing.”

  “It was,” I agree and nod. “But it was a long time ago, and it’s time to live my life again. It’s not like I’ve had to chase Levi.”

  “No, he’s into you.” Joy’s voice is full of confidence. “I tried to antagonize him a bit last week, and he didn’t fall for it. Because he’s a cop, he doesn’t like to say much about stuff, but he admitted that he likes you a lot. It was sweet.”

  “He’s sweet,” I murmur, looking down at the half-eaten taco in my hands. “He’s the best.”

  “Okay, I’m ready for music,” Lia says, shifting in her seat. “Whenever you’re done eating.”

  “Awesome. I’d like to hear what you think of this one so far. It’s a little different for me, but I think it’s pretty.”

  I sit at the piano and begin the song I’ve been working on. There are a few rough spots that I have to mumble through because I don’t have all of the lyrics ironed out. When I’m finished, I look up to find both women leaning on the piano, hanging on every note.

  “Well?”

  “Oh my God, so good,” Joy says. “It’s beautiful, Starla.”

  “We would be honest if it sucked,” Lia adds. “But trust me. It doesn’t.”

  “Thanks.” I smile and make a tweak on the notepad. “I’m glad you guys came over. This was fun.”

  “Well, you’re dating our brother-in-law,” Lia says. “And we wanted to get to know you a little better.”

  “I’m glad,” I repeat and then reach for my phone sitting on the top of the piano. Just as I grab it, it pings with an incoming message. “Sorry, I’m waiting for an email from my manager on something. I just need to check this real quick.”

  “No problem,” Joy says. “We should probably head out anyway. I have to go feed that little kitten I rescued behind the clinic.”

  Joy’s and Lia’s voices fade as I read the email.

  You fucking bitch. Did you think you could ignore my last email and I’d just go away? I won’t be ignored! Who do you think you are? You’re not special. There’s a place in hell reserved for cunts like you. In fact, maybe I’ll send you straight to hell, sooner than later.