Tender Loving Killer

By Denise Malone

Alison Brown is learning to juggle it all—work, girls’ nights out with Frankie, dinners with her brother Drew, and hot nights with her new boyfriend Dex. But instead of the blissfully happy life she’s been leading since she last stumbled upon a dead body, her world is turned upside down when she starts receiving gifts from a mysterious stranger, her brother drops a bombshell on the family, and dead bodies start turning up again. Dex is determined to keep her safe. But what if he’s the real target?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Denise Malone
• Release date: Jul 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311799746

Denise Malone

Denise Malone lives in Texas with her husband, children, and a demented Doberman. Besides being an avid reader, she enjoys crocheting and watching college football. This is her debut novel.

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Tender

Loving

Killer

Denise Malone

Tender Loving Killer

Denise Malone

Published by Denise Malone at Smashwords

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, businesses, trademarks, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 Denise Malone

All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook 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. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

For my children,

I love you more than you could ever imagine.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I always have a lot of people to thank for helping me write a book. First, I have to thank my family for not getting too upset that I spend many, many hours parked at my computer writing.

Next, I have to thank the people who allowed me to include them in this book. Mistie Lamb is one of my biggest supporters, and I thank her for allowing me to name a character after her. She’s always kind and gracious, and she kinda rocks my socks off. I also have to thank the Kinky Wizards for saying it was okay to write them into my book. If you’re ever in Lubbock on a Friday or Saturday night, look them up. You won’t be sorry, only sorry that you can’t watch them perform every night of the week.

I have to thank my sprinting partners. I don’t know what I’d do without y’all. You keep me motivated, and I love how encouraging y’all are. So to all my Sprinting Lounge buddies, thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.

Thank you to my beta readers, Annie and Karen. You ladies amaze me. I can’t begin to explain how much it means to me that you’d give of your time to help my stories the best they can be. I owe you more than I could ever repay you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I have to include a second shout out to Annie. She runs Book Banshee blog and did an interview with me about Tender Loving Killer as well as my other works. You are my rock star, babe. Smooches!

Thanks to my editor, Lindsay Gillis. Your insights helped make Tender Loving Killer a better novel, and I’ll be forever grateful for your suggestions.

Finally, thank you to Laura Murphy. Girl, I don’t know what I would do without you. You listen to me complain about my books, characters, plot holes, husband, kids, dog, cat, etc. You always offer a shoulder to lean on and good advice. You’re one in a million, and I’m proud to call you my friend. I love ya!

CHAPTER 1

I was sitting in my office typing away about someone’s gastrointestinal distress when a sound got my attention. It was loud enough to hear over the doctor’s voice coming from my headphones and made me look out the second story window of my office to the street below. I noticed a flower delivery truck screech to a halt in front of my apartment. It wasn’t that the truck had been speeding. It was more like extremely squeaky brakes, but the screech got my attention anyway. Dex, my boyfriend of about a month, must have sent them. He’s romantic that way and a little old fashioned. I loved that even though we’d slept together within about a week of meeting one another he still wanted to woo me with flowers, chocolates, and gifts. We met when he first moved across the street from me in the singles’ apartment complex where we live. The next evening, I found my next door neighbor dead in the indoor pool of our complex. I panicked, dropped my bag with my cell and keys in it, and tried to run home to call 911. Dex stopped me by grabbing my arm. I bloodied his nose and promptly passed out at the sight of the blood. He took care of me that night, and we’ve been almost inseparable since.

I hopped up from my desk and trotted down the stairs when I heard the doorbell ring.

Alison Brown? a young woman asked when I opened the door. She was holding a dozen red roses.

Yes, ma’am, I answered. I knew I had a huge, goofy grin on my face, but I couldn’t help it. Dex made me happy in ways I hadn’t known were possible. He was probably the most romantic boyfriend I’d ever had, not that I’d had a lot of boyfriends, but he was definitely the best, and I might have been falling in love with him, just a little.

Well, these are for you then, she said with a big smile of her own.

Come on in, I said and turned to find my purse to get a tip for her. It was late morning, but the temperature was in the high 90s already. She stepped inside the door and stood quietly while I dug around in my purse. We exchanged the cash and flowers, and she quietly took her leave. I smelled the roses as I carried them to the kitchen. I’d heard somewhere that if you put a half an aspirin in the vase roses would last longer. I set the flowers down and trotted upstairs to my medicine cabinet to retrieve an aspirin, but not before locking the front door.

When I left the bathroom, I walked into my office, grabbed my phone, and sent Dex a quick ‘thank you’ text on my way downstairs. I dropped the aspirin into the vase, smelled the flowers again, and went back upstairs to finish my reports for the morning.

Just before noon, I got a reply from Dex.

‘For what?’ the text read. I thought it was a little strange that Dex didn’t know what I was thanking him for. Maybe he’d just woken up. He works the second shift as a paramedic, so he sleeps in if he’s had a particularly rough shift. But maybe he was playing a trick on me. While he was a great boyfriend, he could be a little immature from time to time, too.

‘The gorgeous roses,’ I texted back. I went back to the report I was typing. When I finished it, I returned the unfinished jobs and shut my computer down in preparation for my lunch break. Sometimes Dex and I went out for lunch. Sometimes we ate in, and occasionally we ate separately. We worked different schedules, and it was hard to find time when we were both available to go on dates, so we regularly substituted lunch dates for dinner ones.

Dex rang my bell just as I turned the corner from the stairwell into the living room. I looked through the peephole just to be sure it was him before I unlocked and opened the door. With the events of the previous month, I’d gotten much more diligent about keeping my doors locked. Our neighbor, Candi, was the one I found dead in the pool. After that, I’d had another neighbor pull a gun on me, and then I’d been kidnapped alongside Candi’s sister, Kate, by a stranger, right out of Candi’s apartment. All served as motivation to keep my doors locked. Before, I’d only worried about locking up at night before I went to bed and would occasionally fall asleep on the couch with the doors unlocked.

Hey, Sugar, Dex said as he stepped inside and pulled me in for a kiss. I’d missed him last night. Apparently he’d missed me, too. I’d gone to the movies with my best friend, Frankie. When I got in, Dex had texted that he was working late. We spent most nights together, and that made me feel guilty for being a bad friend to Frankie. Turns out, I’d picked the perfect time to have a girls’ night out.

Hey yourself, I said when we came up for air. Dex looked toward the kitchen table and the roses.

Those are gorgeous, he said.

Yes, they are. Thank you again, I said. Dex walked to the kitchen and pulled the little card from them.

You read this? he questioned.

Not yet. I was busy working, I said as he handed me the card. I opened it and read it to myself first and then aloud to Dex.

‘I can’t wait to see you again.’

There was nothing else written there, and it wasn’t Dex’s handwriting. He sent me lots of flowers and gifts, and I’d know his handwriting anywhere.

Did you call them in? It’s not your handwriting, I said as I handed the card back to him.

No. I didn’t send them, he replied. He took the card and examined it himself. Looks like a guy’s handwriting to me. Who’d send you flowers but not sign the card?

I don’t know, I replied. As soon as I saw the flower delivery van, I assumed you’d sent them. They’re really not from you?

No, Sugar, I didn’t send them, but maybe I should have.

What do you mean? I asked.

I don’t like that some other guy is sending you flowers.

I don’t like it either. If I’d known they weren’t from you, I wouldn’t have accepted them. I’ll throw them out, I replied. I didn’t like the idea of accepting gifts from people I didn’t know. It seemed wrong and a little creepy for some reason, especially with the card not being signed.

Don’t you like them? he asked.

I did when I thought they were from you. Not so much anymore, I said as I threw them, vase and all, in the trash.

Dex didn’t object.

# # #

Dex and I had lunch at Vito’s. It had become our favorite lunch spot. For a bar, they served great food. They were out of the way, tucked away in a strip mall on the back side from the main street. On the way back to the truck after lunch, Dex had his arm around my shoulders, and I was cuddled into his side. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot at lunchtime, and Dex’s truck usually stuck out like a sore thumb with all the newer model sedans and pickup trucks. What really made it stand out at the moment, though, was the fact that it had four flat tires and someone had shoe polished the entirety of the windows black.

Dammit, Dex said as he stopped short, stopping me right along with him. That’s when I looked up and noticed the truck.

What in the world? I said. We approached the truck cautiously, and I reached inside my purse and had a good grip on my stun gun while we circled it. Luckily, the tires weren’t slashed, but all the caps had been taken off the valve stems and the air let out of them. We both looked around, but the parking lot was empty of people.

Why don’t you go back inside while I make a couple of calls? he suggested as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

If you can find someone with an air tank, I’ll call a mobile wash guy. Then, we can drive the truck home, I said, pulling my own phone out. I didn’t want to go back inside just in case this was some sort of set up rather than a stupid prank. He just shrugged his shoulders and started talking to whomever he’d called about getting the tires aired up.

Within a half hour, the truck’s tires were re-inflated, and it was sparkling clean, like a shiny new penny—windows and all. Dex and I were out a few more bucks than we’d planned for lunch, but we were happy to be climbing in the truck and headed home. On the way, Dex seemed a little more nervous than usual though, a little jumpy maybe. It reminded me of our trip back from Plainview about a month ago. The closer we got to our apartments the higher the tension level inside the truck got.

We pulled into Dex’s garage, and he put the door down as soon as he cut the motor. Then he hopped out and trotted over to my side to open my door and help me out of the truck. He’d always been gentlemanly that way. I’d bet good money that it was something Dex’s dad, Prescott, had taught him.

It’s too bad, Dex said as we walked into his living room.

What’s too bad? I asked.

I was hoping for a little romantic interlude after lunch, but you’ve got to get back home so you can finish your work for the day, and I have to get ready for duty. I’ll walk you home.

Dex, that’s sweet, but it’s really not necessary. It’s only what, 50 feet or so? I doubt anything will happen to me on the way. I’m sure this was all just a bad prank.

It may have been, but I’d feel better if I knew you were home safely. I understood the feeling of wanting to make sure I was safe. After the kidnapping and Dex tangling with Candi’s murderer, I wanted to make sure he was safe, too—and as close to me as humanly possible. He’d saved my life that night, and while I’d really begun to like him, I think that’s the first night I began to love him.

Dex and I made it across the blacktop uneventfully, and when I opened the front door, Dex stood back for me to enter first. When I got inside, Dex stepped in behind me and closed the door.

Stay here, he said, and then he proceeded to check out my apartment, top to bottom. He hadn’t done that in a while, but between the flowers and the truck prank, I think he was feeling a little paranoid. I didn’t think the two were related, but if it made him feel better, I wouldn’t comment. I didn’t want to belittle his need to keep me safe or his feelings for me. However, that didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes just once when he turned his back to me.

After he checked the apartment, he gave me a long, lingering kiss that made me want to drag him upstairs, and then he left.

CHAPTER 2

A half hour later, I watched from my office window as Dex got in his truck and drove away, but not before rolling down his window, waving, and giving me a wink. I let out an audible sigh at the sight of him driving away. I knew I probably wouldn’t hear from him for at least another four to five hours. Paramedics don’t always have regular breaks or mealtimes. I hated seeing him go, but the reality was that neither of us was ready for the kind of commitment that would allow us to spend all of our time together, and neither of us could afford not to work. Granted I had some inheritance money socked away, but it wasn’t enough for me not to work on a regular basis.

I settled into my office chair and began typing again. The work was steady, and the afternoon slipped away quickly. I was still typing when my phone rang around 5:30. I looked at the caller ID and answered, Hi Drew.

Hey, whatcha up to? he asked.

Just working. What’re you up to? I asked.

Thought I’d call and see if maybe I could tear my favorite sister away from her boyfriend long enough for dinner with her favorite brother.

Yeah, right. You’re my only brother, and Dex is working tonight. So where do you want to go for dinner? I’d planned on staying in and cooking dinner for Frankie and myself, but I hadn’t spent much time with Drew lately either. In addition to being a bad friend to Frankie, I was being a bad sister to Drew. Before I started dating Dex, Drew and I went out to dinner at least twice a month. Since I met Dex, we’d only eaten dinner together once.

It’s a surprise, he said. I have big news, and I want to share it. I really wanted to beg Drew to tell me what the news was, but I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t share until he was darn good and ready to.

Okay. How should I dress, and what time are you picking me up? I asked.

I’ll pick you up at 7:00, and you should dress for comfort, he replied.

I need to get ready then. Love ya, I said.

Love you, too, he said as he clicked off the phone.

I immediately called Frankie and let her know she’d be flying solo for dinner. I apologized and promised her homemade enchiladas later in the week, with guacamole and Spanish rice. Just as I was about to hop in the shower, Dex called. He was on his lunch break. He was eating dinner with his partner, Julie. She was a nice lady, about 40, with wild red hair, a husband, and a couple of kids. Her husband hadn’t liked Dex much when they’d first been partnered together, but he got over it. I was there when Dex met Julie’s husband, Nick, at the company picnic. Nick stared Dex down for the first few minutes from across the park, but after he saw the two of us curled up together on our blanket, he seemed to cool off a bit.

Dex and I kept our conversation short because he knew Drew well enough to know that he didn’t like to be kept waiting. I jumped in the shower and was out in record time. I dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a blue t-shirt with white sandals. I was just pulling my hair through the ponytail holder when Drew rang my doorbell. I hustled downstairs, double checked it was Drew, and opened the door.

Sorry, I’m a little late. We gotta get going, he said.

Get where? I tried, but Drew had all ready turned his back to me and was heading to his car. I grabbed my purse and keys, locked up, and hopped in the car.

So, you’re not gonna give me a hint, even a little one?

Not even a little one, he echoed and laughed. He knew not knowing what was going on was driving me crazy, and he was relishing in it. We pulled out of my apartment complex and headed towards the north side of town. When Drew and I ate out, we only went to a handful of places, tried-and-true favorites, but none of them were on the north side of town.

When we turned onto 4th street, I knew we were headed to our mom’s house.

Is Michele joining us? I asked.

Yeah. I said it was big news. I want all my family together, he said.

So, are we picking up Mom and Michele, too?

Drew zipped his proverbial lips and threw away the proverbial key. I wondered if Michele or Mom might have better luck getting some information out of him.

We pulled up into the driveway and got out of the car. We didn’t have time to knock on the door though, because Michele flung open the front door before we could close the car doors.

Come on, hurry up, she fussed at us. Michele had always been the least patient of us kids. Drew said it was because she was the baby of the family, but I’ve always thought it was just part of her personality.

Inside, the house smelled great, like bacon frying and a hint of something pungent like garlic. Drew and I stood just inside the door and closed our eyes. It was a game we’d played ever since we were kids. We’d sniff and smell trying to decide what Mom was concocting in the kitchen. While I have to admit her cooking skills had gotten better over the years, there were times that her creations were less than edible in the early years.

Bacon grilled cheese sandwiches with garlic butter, Drew guessed.

Pasta salad with bacon and toasted garlic, I said.

You’re both wrong, Michele said. Mom found a recipe for a bacon and chicken fettuccini Alfredo. I think it might be edible.

That’s not funny, Mom yelled from the kitchen. Y’all go wash your hands and help set the table.

The three of us raced to the hall bathroom. Drew got there first, of course. He closed and locked the door so we couldn’t go in and wash up with him. A few minutes later he came out flicking cold water from his fingertips in our faces as he made his way to the kitchen. Then Michele and I went in and washed up together. It was our nightly ritual growing up, Drew beating us to the bathroom and then flicking us with water, and then Michele and I washing up together.

So any ideas what Drew’s big news is? I asked Michele while we lathered and rinsed.

Not a clue, she said as she pulled the hand towel from its loop on the wall and handed me one end. Anything new with you?

Not really. Just working and spending time with Dex, and Frankie when I can, I replied. She and I went out last night, but that’s about it. How ’bout you?

Just enjoying my summer break and working, she said as we walked down the hall. Michele went to school out of state. Between cheerleading and academic scholarships, the school offered her almost a full ride. All she and Mom had to pay for were her books and meals. She came home every summer and worked as a waitress. She saved as much of her tips as she could so she could pay for books and part of her meals. Mom paid for the rest and her airfare to and from.

CHAPTER 3

That was an excellent meal, Mom, Drew said as he pushed back from the table.

Thank you, she said. Now, what’s this big news you want to share?

I thought I’d wait until we cleaned the kitchen, he said.

Andrew David Brown, I’ve had enough of the suspense! Either you’re going to tell us, or you’re not, so spit it out, Mom huffed out at him. Drew smiled, and I could tell he loved that Mom was frustrated. Then he winked at me.

Oh, so you know the news? Mom questioned me, raising her eyebrows. Her face said she felt betrayed because she wasn’t the first to know.

Honest, Mom, I’m as clueless as you, I said. I grabbed my napkin, wadded it up, and threw it at Drew. Of course, he grabbed it out of thin air and threw it back at me.

That’s enough, you two, Mom said. It felt good to be back at home.

Okay, okay, Drew said. I’ve met a girl, and I’m thinking about asking her to marry me.

I wished Drew had a camera to take pictures of each of our faces. My mouth was hanging open. Mom started crying, and Michele burst out laughing. Drew looked from one face to the next before he said, This isn’t a joke, Michele. I asked her to meet us for dessert this evening because I wanted you all to meet her, but I don’t want you hinting at my plans to marry her. I’m serious. She’s the most beautiful, caring, intelligent woman I’ve ever met.

Oh, Drew, honey, how long have you known this woman? Mom asked, as she got up and rounded the table to give him a big bear hug.

We met about a year ago when she came into the studio to enroll who I thought was her son in karate classes, Drew said when Mom finally released her grip on him.

What? She has a kid? Are you sure you know what you’re getting into here, Drew? Ex-husbands and kids complicate things. Mom started out shrieking but managed to lower her voice to a more manageable tone before she stopped talking.

Mom, she’s a widow, and the son I thought was hers is actually her nephew. His dad, her brother, is deployed in Afghanistan, and his mom isn’t in the picture, Drew explained.

Well, you may not have to deal with an ex-husband, but you may have to deal with his ghost, Mom said. Michele had stopped laughing, and I’d managed to close my mouth, but both of us were speechless watching the two of them go back and forth.

Blindly, I got up from the table and started clearing the mess from dinner. Michele followed suit. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about this situation. With my hands in the soapy, hot water of the kitchen sink, I silently started calculating the number of times that Drew and I had been to dinner and he hadn’t mentioned her. If they’d met a year ago, that was at least 24 dinners, not including Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and birthdays, but then I had to subtract at least 2 dinners that I’d skipped out on to spend time with Dex over the last month. But he said they’d met a year ago. I didn’t know if he and Mom had gotten to when they actually started dating. That was a minimum 22 dinners we had, just the two of us, that he hadn’t said a word about her, and then there was the waitress who’d given him her number that he crumpled up and put in his pocket the night I found Candi’s body. That was barely less than a month ago.

The whole time Michele and I cleaned the kitchen Mom and Drew were sitting at the kitchen table