Libra

By Darla Rogers

Leigh Devonshire, a private investigator hailing from Texas, finds herself entangled in a web of lies, murder, and love when premonitions of the death of a famed celebrity, Cinara Knight, lead her to Los Angeles. With a never-ending list of suspects and growing affection for an acclaimed actress, can she manage to solve the case before her visions come true?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524699369

Darla Rogers

Darla Rogers was born and raised in Texas, where she still resides. LIBRA is her second novel, following CAPRICORN. Her desire is to make her way through the zodiac.

Book preview

© 2017 Darla Rogers. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  07/11/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-9937-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-9936-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017910757

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Libra

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

39365.png

LIBRA

Los Angeles, CA

New Years Day

Leigh Devonshire walked cautiously down the seedy, cluttered alley. Garbage spilled out of the already too-filled dumpsters. Newspapers blew freely in the cool breeze. A homeless man slept noisily with an empty bottle of Vodka.

She could see her breath in the morning light. She wasn’t cold, in spite of the forty degree temperature. Her mind was focused on the task ahead, not the secondary elements.

Her many silver bangle bracelets produced a muffled jingle beneath her black leather coat. Nine bracelets, to be exact, as nine was her lucky number. She wore her trench coat unbuttoned, her gun resting comfortably inside its shoulder holster.

As her footsteps quickened, the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. She let her instincts lead the way, her foreboding telling her she was approaching her intended target.

Leigh, a native Texan, twenty-eight years of age, had only just arrived in Los Angeles. She was a striking beauty with long curly jet black hair and dark eyes to match. She was tall and lean and had an insight into what others didn’t.

Her only reason for being there was due to a premonition that came to her in the form of a dream. Visions of a woman, a famous woman, being gang-raped and beaten to death. A sight terrifying and haunting. A dream so horrendous that she awakened in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. She was on the first flight to L.A.

What some referred to as a gift, she had often deemed a curse. She alluded to her premonitions as visions, and her visions were rarely wrong.

The woman from her visions lay on the ground naked and bleeding. She was screaming for help to anyone who would listen.

Of the four men who surrounded her, three were white. They laughed at her, mocked her, the final phase of humiliation.

The only black member of the gang raised a steel pipe above his head and readied himself to smash open her skull.

Leigh drew her gun and evaluated the situation. She took careful aim and shot him through the heart. As he collapsed, the other men scattered, one of them gathering up the victim’s clothes as he fled.

Leigh next took aim at the kneecap of another assailant and fired. Her sharp- shooting skills were as accurate as her visions. He swore in agony as he began to crawl in an effort to escape.

Leigh approached him cautiously, gun still drawn, eyes scanning the area. Move another inch and you’ll have a matching set.

He stopped immediately and lay flat on his stomach as she instructed. One look into her black eyes told him not to argue. The woman was clearly crazy.

Leigh quickly focused her attention to the victim, curled up in the fetal position. The woman was covered in blood, and judging by the blood on the ground, was suffering from a wound of some kind.

She returned her gun to its holster and knelt beside the woman, who became hysterical when she felt the encroachment of another body.

It’s okay, Leigh assured, grabbing the victim’s flailing hands. I’m a friend. I’m here to help you. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I’m going to get you to the hospital. I’m so sorry…

She felt entirely responsible for what had happened. If only her flight hadn’t been delayed. If only she had known where she was going when she got there. If only she hadn’t had the damn vision in the first place.

A connection was formed when Leigh looked into the beautiful green eyes peering from a bruised and bloody face. A face known throughout America and half the world.

Do you know your name? Leigh asked.

Cinara Knight, the woman quipped in her English accent.

Tell me where it hurts most.

My side, Cinara slurred, feels like it’s on fire. Her eyes suddenly widened with fright.

Leigh turned around, only to find herself on the receiving end of a knife embedded deep into her left shoulder. One of the gang members had returned to finish the job.

How does that feel? he wailed.

Leigh drew her gun and jammed it into the side of her assailant and squeezed the trigger. A pained expression crossed his face as she rolled him off of her.

As she removed the knife from her own shoulder a surge of blood spilled forth inducing a suction sound.

Adrenaline and fear replaced the pain in Leigh’s shoulder as she returned her attention to Cinara, who was slipping in and out of consciousness.

Help me, Cinara mumbled. Please get me out of here.

Leigh tried not to vomit but couldn’t help herself. The sight before her was most sickening.

Cinara lay in a pool of her own blood. A gash on her forehead caused the scene to look worse than it actually was. Her face, her blonde hair, and her entire body was covered in blood. She had been stabbed at least three times. Bruises covered her body, her inner thighs a sea of deep purple. Her face, once nationally recognized, was swelling under the battery of abuse. Indentations of teeth marks plagued her breasts.

Leigh’s concern was stopping the blood pumping out of Cinara’s body. She found at least two broken ribs and a deep laceration in the kidney area. It was this wound from which Cinara’s life was draining.

Leigh tore a strip off her blouse and removed the belt from her coat. She placed the material over the wound and secured the belt tightly around it, slowing the flow of blood. I’m going to get you some help.

No! Cinara grabbed Leigh, the pain from the broken ribs letting its presence be known. They may come back for me. Please don’t leave me here.

Leigh knew there was only one suspect left and only a remote chance he would return. Even then, it was still a possibility and their intent had been clear. They meant to kill her.

Alright, Leigh conceded. She covered Cinara’s body with her coat and retrieved the pipe and knife that had been used. She retrieved an empty plastic bag from the nearest dumpster and placed them inside, then secured the bag behind the same dumpster.

The man who had stabbed Leigh began to gurgle and choke on his own blood. Libra, he muttered, spitting blood as he spoke. Libra……gonna….kill you.

Can you walk? Leigh asked, helping Cinara to her feet. She wrapped her coat around Cinara, careful not to disturb the tourniquet.

Libra, the man sputtered for the last time as Leigh walked past him. She didn’t fail to notice the tattoo of the justice scales on his hand, as well as the hands of the other assailants.

Cinara walked three blocks with the aid of Leigh, then passed out.

Leigh didn’t relinquish her grasp. She looked to the heavens above asking for the strength she no longer had. She bent down and picked up Cinara, who weighed little in spite of her five foot nine inch frame.

Even with her injured shoulder, which had more or less gone numb, she had no problem carrying the star. Cinara’s life was simply draining from her.

Happy New Year, Ms. Knight, Leigh said sarcastically. She carried Cinara’s lifeless frame to the nearest hospital.

Libra watched from afar through a pair of binoculars. Who was the dark haired woman? Why was she there? She had come from nowhere to interrupt the plan. Cinara was still alive. Everything was ruined.

40259.png

CHAPTER TWO

Leigh pushed through the doors of the hospital out of breath and in pain. She had carried Cinara no more than two blocks. She had been lucky in that respect.

Cinara had not regained consciousness but the bleeding from her back had all but stopped. I need some help here, Leigh demanded. She was covered in her own blood as well as her Cinara’s.

Her plea was virtually ignored as a large woman at the admission’s desk never looked up from her paper work.

This woman has been stabbed and raped, Leigh continued.

Fill this out, the nurse replied, shoving a form in Leigh’s direction. She still didn’t look up.

Leigh set her dark eyes on her. Listen to me you self-absorbed imbecile, she threatened. If you don’t get this woman some help right now you’re going to need to fill one of those out yourself.

The nurse finally looked up to the sight before her.

Leigh never took her eyes from her. Then, making sure her gun was quite visible, added, Now.

The nurse went into a frenzy of action, scared to death Leigh was some sort of terrorist, intent on ruining her day.

A gurney arrived within seconds, as did a doctor. Cinara was quickly taken to an examining room.

Leigh pulled Nurse Frenzy to one side. I don’t know if you’re aware of who that woman is, but she happens to be quite famous. The last thing she needs is publicity. I want her admission kept silent. Give her a false name if you have to but no press. If word leaks of her tragedy I’ll sue this hospital to such a degree it will still be paying restitution to her grandchildren. I’m holding you personally accountable.

I can assure you no one will know she is here, Nurse Frenzy remarked indignantly. If you’ll have a seat I’ll call a doctor to look at you.

Leigh covered the hole in her shoulder. That won’t be necessary.

You are obviously in need of a doctor, Nurse Frenzy argued. If you don’t have that place taken care of it could become infected and ...

First of all, Leigh interrupted, I happen to be from out of state. Second, I have no insurance. Third, I have only a couple hundred dollars in cash.

You’ve lost a lot of blood.

Leigh looked down at her blood-soaked blouse. I realize that.

Let your arm rot off, Nurse Frenzy spouted. See if I care.

An ambulance and the police are needed about five blocks from here. I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on my friend.

Nurse Frenzy made a face. I can hardly wait.

Leigh grabbed a wad of gauze off the desk at the nurse’s station and plugged the hole in her shoulder. She then left the hospital.

Leigh returned to the scene of the crime. She took pictures of the alley, the crime scene, and the three men that lay on the ground, one still alive but unconscious. She took several shots of the tattoo each man sported. The scales of justice. The astrological sign Libra.

She had just wrapped her session when she heard the sirens. She left the site, no one aware she had been there.

She re-entered the hospital with her shoulder stiff and aching. She was light-headed and tired. She learned Cinara had been taken to surgery with three broken ribs, multiple contusions to the head, a severe concussion, and four stab wounds.

Detective Brandon Rogue caught up with Leigh a few minutes after she returned to the hospital.

A… Nurse Boggs told me I could find you here, he said, looking at his notes to make sure he had the name correct.

I really need to get cleaned up, Leigh noted.

Brandon looked at her shirt. He’d seen worse. This won’t take but a minute.

Fine, but I have to sit down, Leigh said, finding the cop to be insensitive. I’m feeling a little dizzy.

He eyed her suspiciously. Do you have a permit for that gun?

Do you? she retorted, already fed up with being questioned. Her eyes drifted to the ugly yellow tie he was wearing.

Brandon took offense at her question. Who are you and what the hell happened in that alley?

She retrieved her identification from her front pocket. Leigh Devonshire, she answered arrogantly. I’m a private investigator and our conversation is over.

I’m not through questioning you.

Send a squad car over tomorrow and I’ll be happy to come down and make a statement.

Very well, he gave up. What’s your address?

Send the car here. I’ll be staying the night. By the way, there’s a bag behind the dumpster at the crime scene with pieces of evidence.

You aren’t supposed to tamper with evidence, he scolded.

Perhaps you would have preferred to have had to search for it instead.

Leigh’s arrogance really got under his skin. He knew trouble was headed his way. Do you know the victim well? he asked.

In a way you’ll never understand, she replied mysteriously.

Leigh was awakened from an uncomfortable sleep in the middle of the night by an unfamiliar nurse. Is there a problem? she asked groggily, then her eyes switched to Cinara, who was sleeping peacefully a few feet away.

No problem, the nurse replied politely. I’m here to stitch you up.

Thanks, but I really can’t afford it.

I know, the nurse smiled. That’s why I’m here in the wee hours of the morning. I’m officially off-duty so there’s no charge.

Leigh followed Nurse Metcalf into the bathroom and removed her bloody blouse.

The area surrounding the two inch gash was red and swollen. The congealed blood protruded obscenely from the open wound.

Can’t you get into trouble for doing this? Leigh asked.

Nurse Metcalf removed a syringe filled with anesthetic from the small container she carried and injected it near the gash. Only if I get caught, she replied.

Leigh winced as the nurse began to stitch the vulgar-looking place. Why are you helping me?

Nurse Metcalf finished sewing up the wound and started an I.V. Because I respect what you did for Ms. Knight. You helped her when you could have walked away. I’m only returning the favor. She handed Leigh a week’s supply of antibiotics. Take one of these now and the others over the next week. Clean the wound daily and change the dressing accordingly. And don’t do anything strenuous over the next couple of weeks.

I don’t know how to repay you.

You’re paid in full, Nurse Metcalf assured.

40261.png

CHAPTER THREE

The pain in Leigh’s shoulder prodded her to get up. She swallowed three aspirins and one of the antibiotics she had been given. Her arm was stiff and sore and barely mobile. She cleaned the wound as instructed and drank a small bottle of orange juice.

As she awaited the squad car she sat beside Cinara’s bed. She took Cinara’s hand, saying a prayer in one breath and damning herself in the other for not getting there sooner.

Cinara still had not regained consciousness. Her arms were besieged with bruises, revealing the physical distress of her ordeal.

Cinara Knight, born in Essex, England, was a fair-skinned, green eyed, blonde knockout. She was also America’s hottest sensation. In her early thirties, she was the star of the nation’s number one prime time courtroom drama, American Justice.

The award winning American Justice, debuted at number eight in the Nielsen’s. The week after that it edged its way to number three. The following week it reached the number one plateau, where it had remained for eight years. Occasionally, Justice would drop down a notch or two but never out of the top ten.

As legal eagle Raven St. James, Cinara Knight was the proud owner of numerous awards including four Emmy’s as well as four Golden Globes. She teased and tantalized the press and public with her innuendos of her sexuality. She kept everybody guessing whether or not she was gay or straight or bisexual. One week she would show up at a charity function with a man, then show up holding hands with a woman at a movie premier the next.

Cinara exuded confidence, sensuality and charisma through the screen. Men and women alike lusted for her with her short blonde hair, big green eyes, and blood-red lips. She was bold and intimidating. Enigmatic and controversial. Sensual and seductive. Flirtatious and salacious.

Her smile and her laugh were contagious. She stood five foot nine on muscular legs. She wasn’t just another pretty face in an enviable body, but she was actually talented. She possessed the empowering gift of being able to sweep the audience into her character’s heartbreaks and happiness. America was simply in love with her. She was Britain’s greatest export since Elizabeth Taylor.

She could do no wrong as far as her fans were concerned, in spite of having a somewhat tarnished image. The press crucified her week after week with their yellow journalism. She sold more copy than anyone. Therefore, her face was splashed across every news outlet in the country with invalid half-truths and made up lies. Still, her fans remained loyal.

Leigh arrived at the police station a quarter after ten in the morning. The officers whistled as she walked by them.

Have a seat, Ms. Devonshire, Detective Rogue insisted.

Leigh sat down across from a very disorganized desk. I hope this isn’t going to take long. I want to get back to the hospital.

Better make yourself at home. We have a lot to talk about.

Someone already took my statement, Leigh said curtly. What’s left to talk about?

Brandon did not care for Leigh’s attitude. The last thing he needed was some P.I. from another state coming in and stirring up trouble. He had been with the LAPD for twenty years and felt he deserved a better case than the crap he had been given lately.

He ran his hand through his slowly receding hairline. He had dark hair and dark eyes and a strikingly handsome face with chiseled features.

You blow into LA and ten minutes later I have two dead bodies and another in ICU with a leg and a half, he growled.

I also saved a life in the process, Leigh defended. The man I shot through the heart was going to smash her head open. Don’t you think she’d been put through enough? Have you ever been gang-raped, Detective?

He felt like a chastised child. No.

The other man I shot was in self defense only after he stabbed me.

And what about the guy without a kneecap?

He was fleeing the scene of a crime. I was doing you a favor by detaining him. Obviously, my intent was only to stop him, not kill him.

Obviously, he said sarcastically.

Leigh rolled her eyes in disgust. She wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated by some kind of tyrannical-oriented cop who seemed to hate women in authoritative positions. He was certainly good-looking but his attitude needed some major readjusting. He was also in desperate need of a fashion consultant. He wore a navy blue suit with an ugly brown tie. Leigh had a fetish about ties.

How long are you going to be in LA? he asked, hoping on the one hand she would be leaving and wishing on the other she would be sticking around long enough to get to know her better. He just hated it when a woman got to him and this woman got to him.

Why would anyone wear a blue suit with a brown tie, she wondered. She knew he wasn’t married because no woman in her right mind would let her husband leave the house like that. Are you trying to get rid of me? she responded.

Of course not. I just want to know if you’ll be staying long enough to see this case solved.

I’ll let you know, she said, forcing herself not to stare at the out-of-place tie. How about a police guard stationed outside her door?

I don’t think so.

Leigh set deadly eyes on him. What kind of police department is this? she asked belligerently. This woman is a very notable figure. There’s still a man out there who knows she can identify him. The bastard took her bloody clothes with him. Doesn’t that tell you what kind of person he is?

Don’t tell me how to do my job, he argued. We don’t have enough manpower to go around babysitting celebrities.

You’re sickening, Leigh declared. You are the most insensitive, chauvinistic, stubborn ass I’ve ever met. She rose in dismissal of their conversation. And I’ll tell you another thing–that’s the ugliest tie I’ve ever seen! Try a splash of red because that fashion faux pas you’re wearing detracts from your very handsome face.

He was speechless as she exited the station. She made his blood boil and he was loving every minute of it. She was gorgeous and those black eyes aroused him.

He looked down at his tie. She was right. The tie was really hideous.

40263.png

CHAPTER FOUR

Leigh’s bangle bracelets jingled as she grasped Cinara’s hand. Cinara had remained unconscious over the last day. The doctors were in and out of her room every couple of hours checking her vital signs. Leigh did not take the constant attention as a good sign.

C’mon, damn it, Leigh encouraged. You’ve survived the worst of it and you can’t sleep forever, so you may as well open your eyes and get back to the land of the living.

She had not left Cinara’s bedside except to take her trench coat to a cleaner and pick up some new clothes. She slept in a chair in Cinara’s private room and stored her belongings in the bathroom. Not only did she not have a place to stay but she didn’t want the other assailant to come back and finish the job. She simply couldn’t leave until she knew Cinara was going to be okay.

She had had dreams and visions in the past that had come true but they had never been as graphic as what she had envisioned happening to Cinara. She had come to LA to warn Cinara, to prevent the tragedy from happening. She was able to change fate in one aspect–Cinara hadn’t been beaten to death. At least not yet.

Leigh checked her watch. Ten minutes after one in the afternoon. It was at that moment Cinara squeezed Leigh’s hand and opened her eyes.

It’s about time, Leigh smiled.

Where am I? Cinara asked, not relinquishing the grasp she had on Leigh’s hand.

The hospital.

Who are you? Cinara inquired, looking hard at Leigh. I should know you, shouldn’t I?

Before Leigh had a chance to respond, a doctor walked in along with the cast of American Justice, minus one.

She just woke up, Leigh explained, getting to her feet. She recognized the cast and was quick to notice the absence of Neith Gant.

There was a moment of tense silence, which was broken by the only black person in the room. Felix Armstrong, he said, extending a hand to Leigh. The token black of American Justice!

Everyone’s tension was eased with laughter. Felix’s role was anything but that of the token black. He played Steven Garrison and had a large following.

Also bearing good wishes and flowers was Keith Gant, brother to the absent Neith. He was in his late twenties with boyish good looks and charm. He was known throughout America as Marcus Adams.

Alex Mourning portrayed patriarch Michael Elliot. He had a full head of thick silver hair and had had a career in television and the theater that spanned more than fifty years.

Jacqueline Colt played Chelsea Mann, one of the firm’s best. In her late forties, Jacqueline had one of the meatiest roles on television. She was not only talented but very attractive as well. She was of average height with a slim frame. Her hair was auburn, her eyes green.

The last cast member was Tommie Spencer, who portrayed counselor Al Novacek. He was an ordinary looking man with thinning blond hair and blue eyes.

I was just leaving, Leigh said, making her way to the door.

Tommie Spencer stepped in her path. Who are you anyway?

Nobody, Leigh replied, nobody at all.

Again she attempted to pass him. This time he grabbed hold of her left arm, ripping the stitches in her injured shoulder.

I asked who you are, he persisted.

Tears came to Leigh’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She was tired physically and emotionally and she didn’t need to be hassled. Blood slowly began to seep through her short-sleeved pink blouse. You just ripped my stitches, she managed through clinched teeth.

She left the room before he could issue an apology. She passed Nurse Frenzy on her way out the door. The final touch to a perfect day.

Tommie sat beside Cinara. Who is that woman?

Didn’t she tell you? Nurse Frenzy interrupted. She not only killed two people saving your friend but she shot another and was stabbed in the process. Then she picked up your friend and carried her here. She lost a lot of blood but said she couldn’t afford medical treatment. I’m surprised she’s still on her feet.

Nurse Frenzy turned her attention to Cinara. That’s some friend you got there, Ms. Knight. She hasn’t left your bedside. If she hadn’t made that tourniquet you could have bled to death.

Cinara closed her eyes and began to sob as she remembered the rape. I remember what happened, she cried. I had never met her until that day.

Tommie eyed the nurse skeptically. Are you telling me that woman who just walked out of here carried Cinara here with a hole in her shoulder?

Nurse Frenzy nodded her head. That’s right.

Somebody go get her, Cinara said. Please don’t let her leave the hospital before I can talk with her.

Leigh walked into the cafeteria after stopping the bleeding in her shoulder. She pulled her long mane of jet curls to conceal the stain on her blouse. She purchased a sandwich and a bottle of apple juice.

When she sat down she was promptly joined by Brandon, sporting a dark blue suit with a red striped tie. A matching red handkerchief tucked expertly in the jacket pocket completed the look.

Leigh couldn’t help smiling. Nice tie.

He returned her smile. Picked it out myself.

What are you doing here?

Remember the man you shot in the knee?

Leigh grimaced. What about him?

He’s dead, Brandon said bluntly.

From a gunshot wound to the leg?

No, from a slit throat. Someone murdered him early this morning.

Leigh arched an eyebrow. Now are you ready to put a man outside Ms. Knight’s door?

Yep, he replied. You never did tell me how you happened to come down that particular alley.

Just lucky I guess.

Brandon sighed heavily. You aren’t going to tell me, are you?

You know what I wonder? she asked, avoiding the question. I wonder why Neith Gant didn’t come to the hospital today. I also wonder why she’s even on American Justice. She’s pretty enough but my house plants can act better than her.

Brandon laughed aloud. Don’t tell me you watch that show.

Like you haven’t.

Not once, he lied.

She leaned in close to him. You’re a liar, Detective.

And you’re intriguing.

Leigh broke the moment. So, someone wanted our suspect dead?

That someone had a very big secret to hide.

So would I if someone could finger me for rape and attempted murder.

I think it goes deeper than that, Brandon continued. Each man had a tattoo on his hand.

The justice scales, Leigh concurred. Libra.

You had time to notice that minute detail with all that was going on? he asked.

There was something about his tone of voice that set her off every time. You aren’t the only detective here, she argued.

You’re a P.I. for crying out loud! I hardly consider it the same thing.

Leigh picked up her lunch and moved to another table.

Brandon was undeterred and joined her again. Do you always have to have the last word?

No, Leigh replied. I just didn’t think there was enough room at that table for me, you and your ego.

It’s not about ego.

The hell it isn’t. You think just because I’m a female private detective that I’m not as good as you. Well, you’re wrong. I’m better than you.

Brandon bit his upper lip in frustration. You have got to be the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met. Just once I’d like to have a conversation with you that didn’t end up in an argument.

They came to a standstill once they realized everyone in the cafeteria had focused on them.

Tommie Spencer walked in just as their verbal brawl concluded.

Oh, great, Leigh muttered when she spotted him.

Tommie made his way to their table. Can I have a word with you, Ms…

Devonshire, Leigh replied. Have a seat.

He forced himself to look at her. I’m really sorry about what happened. I’d be more than happy to pay your medical bills.

What happened? Brandon asked.

Brandon’s question went unanswered. That won’t be necessary, Leigh replied.

At least let me replace the blouse I ruined, Tommie insisted.

Leigh held her ground. That won’t be necessary either.

I’m really sorry, Tommie repeated. Cinara is like a sister to me. I guess I’m a little too protective.

Leigh broke a smile. Maybe a little.

We heard what you did for Cinara. She’s asking for you.

Brandon was quick to interrupt. She’s awake?

Don’t even think of questioning her today, Leigh warned. She isn’t up for it.

Brandon put his notepad back in his pocket. Alright. I’ll leave her alone today but I need a statement as soon as possible.

I’ll see to it, she assured, rising from the table.

Brandon watched her and Tommie exit the cafeteria. He had wanted to ask her out but couldn’t find the courage. She would probably have laughed in his face. Even if she did accept they would more than likely end up strangling each other.

A loud ruckus came from Cinara’s room as Leigh and Tommie walked down the corridor.

In the center of Cinara’s room stood Nurse Frenzy holding a needle. Cinara was sitting in her bed, her arms flailing as before, refusing to let Nurse Frenzy anywhere near her.

Tommie entered the room first. What the hell is going on?

I’m trying to give Ms. Knight a sedative, Nurse Frenzy snapped. She’s very upset and needs to calm down. One of her broken ribs could cause further damage.

When Leigh entered the room Cinara reached for her.

Do you have this effect on everyone you meet? Leigh asked sarcastically. She sat down on the side of the bed and hugged Cinara closely.

Cinara was shaking slightly but had calmed down. Tell her to get that needle away from me, she whispered. They already have one in me and I want it removed.

They will take it out in a couple of days, Leigh soothed. It’s giving you the nutrients you need to get out of here. It’s already in place so don’t think about it.

Alright, Cinara agreed, but no more shots. Cinara hated needles. They made her skin crawl.

She’s okay, Leigh said. The sedative isn’t necessary.

Very well, Nurse Frenzy spat. Keep her calm and still or I’ll be back.

Please go, Leigh said.

Get yourself cleaned up, Nurse Frenzy added hatefully. You’re a mess.

Leigh looked down at her blood-stained blouse. She’s right, she said, slightly embarrassed. I’ll get my things together and get out of here.

The cast of American Justice was silent. They didn’t know what to say.

Cinara clutched desperately to Leigh’s hands. You can’t go, she quipped. I don’t even know your name. I haven’t had a chance to thank you.

My name is Leigh. I’m a private detective and thanks isn’t necessary. I really have to get back to Texas.

Please don’t leave yet, Cinara begged. I’m afraid and I feel safe with you.

Leigh took a deep breath. She wished there weren’t so many people around. I’ll stay for a couple of days but then I have to get back to my agency. As she said the words she had a feeling she would be in LA longer than a couple of days.

40265.png

CHAPTER FIVE

Leigh stared out the window looking at nothing in particular. She had stayed the two days as promised and was now contemplating her return home.

I don’t want you to leave, Cinara repeated.

I know, but I have to get back to my business.

And how is your business doing?

Not great, Leigh confessed, but it isn’t going to get any better with me here in LA. My partner can’t do it alone.

Move your business here. I’ll finance the whole thing.