Twisted Vendetta: Foxy Mysteries, #4

By Fiona Tarr

Since trading in her high heels for a PI badge, Liz has developed an insatiable appetite for justice—one that nearly always ends up getting her in trouble.

 

When Liz pulled back from the escort business, she never managed to quit the game entirely. Holding on to the past meant seeing Ted Lincoln, a long-term client, one more time. Now he's been found dead with a bullet in his brain and Liz is the prime suspect.

 

All Liz wants to do is hunt down Ted's killer, but as the trail leads down the rabbit hole of her sordid past, she worries that her budding relationship with local detective Jack Cunningham might not survive the ride.

 

Liz sinks her teeth into the investigation, and discovers a deadly game with more lives at risk. She becomes bait in a trap, but it might just as easily snap shut on her. Permanently…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiona Tarr
• Release date: Feb 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201117887

Book preview

1

Liz stared at the one-way glass ignoring the male voice as it droned on. Jack had to be watching. He had to be trying to get her out of here. She wriggled in her seat without taking her eyes from the glass, thinking about the look on his face as he’d opened her front door to two detectives—there to arrest her.

‘Ms Jeffreys, or do you prefer Madam, or possibly Foxy?’ The detective chuckled at his own poor sense of humour, glancing for affirmation at a man who stood stoically in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest. The aloof figure was yet to introduce himself, or join the interrogation.

Liz took a slow, deliberate breath, tearing her eyes from the one-way glass and finally making eye-contact with the funny guy. A short, chubby detective with a thick beard and a receding hairline tapped his pen on the table between them and continued to grin. She leant back in the steel framed chair and crossed her legs, placing her handcuffed hands together in her lap, smiling sardonically.

‘Let’s stick with Foxy shall we?’ Liz rubbed her hands over her thigh, pretending to shift a piece of lint from her jeans. ‘Now, am I being charged or can you take these off?’ Liz shook her cuffed hands, ‘so I can go home now?’

‘We have questions.’ The detective opened a folder, making an exaggerated show of placing a photo in front of Liz. ‘You were the last person to see Ted Lincoln alive.’

‘Except the person who killed him of course.’ Liz’s tone was flat, her emotions still held in check as she avoided looking at the photo. She knew it would be Ted’s murder scene, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to see his dead body. The detective smirked as he pulled his chair closer to the interview table, leaning in to stare her down.

Who was this guy anyway? Liz pondered a moment, but her attention quickly drifted to the man in the shadows. Her disinterest wasn’t lost on her interviewer, who picked up the photo and slammed it down for emphasis. Liz didn’t jump, instead she slowly drew her eyes back to the detective.

‘We’ve checked the security cameras and your sexy little arse was the last thing to leave his room honey.’ A tap sounded on the two-way mirror and Liz smiled. Jack was behind the glass, and protesting. Was it the use of honey?

‘I thought we decided on Foxy.’ Liz lifted her chin and kept her eyes fixed on the detective, hoping to rattle his cage. He wasn’t a local cop. She knew all the Major Crimes detectives since working closely with Jack and Jenny. Who the hell was he?

‘Look at the photo.’ He tapped the picture aggressively, the gap between them almost non-existent now, his breath touching her face as he spoke.

With a huge effort, Liz composed herself, realising looking at the photo was the key to knowing how Ted died, and she had to know. As she dropped her eyes to the table, she sucked in a quick, sharp breath. There he was, still naked, still lying on the bed, a single bullet hole in the centre of his forehead.

‘We will be remanding you in custody Foxy!’

‘Why the hell would I kill Ted?’ Her composure evaporated. ‘I’ve known him for decades. He’s a friend, not just a client.’

‘Now we are getting somewhere.’

‘You are off your tree if you think I did this.’ Liz pushed the photo toward the detective, her frustration evident as she spoke each word with emphasis. ‘This... is... a... professional... hit, you dickhead. I don’t own a gun, much less have the foggiest idea how to bloody use one.’ Liz slumped back in her chair, her chest heaving with a mixture of anger, frustration and shock at seeing one of her oldest friends dead in front of her.

The detective was grinning when a knock interrupted his enjoyment. Quickly scanning the silent man in the corner, he waited for approval to let whoever it was, in.

Who the hell was this guy? Liz stared at the aloof character, willing him to give his name, or at least say something. He wouldn’t make eye contact with her and she could barely make out his features as he stood in the corner of the small room. It was like a television crime show, with harsh lighting over the interview table and dim, dark corners everywhere else.

The door swung open when Shorty didn’t move. A petite, yet full busted woman stepped in to the close, stuffy interview room. ‘As your lawyer, I’m advising you Liz. Don’t say another word. We are leaving.’

Liz didn’t hesitate, collecting her coat from the table. She stood, pushed the chair back as Felicity reached her side.

‘Wait up a minute, you can’t just....’ The detective’s chair scraped back and fell over as he scrambled to stand quickly.

‘Yes, she can.’ Standing in the doorway, flanked by Jack and Max was a grey-haired man in a dinner suit. ‘My wife is more pissed than you can possibly imagine Bridges, so let’s make this snappy. I’ve left her at the Australian Ballet’s Nutcracker Sweet and as much as I don’t give a hoot about ballet, my wife certainly does so I need to get back to her before she cracks my nuts.’

‘Chief! How? Why? What are you doing here?’

‘Ms Jeffreys is free to go until you find something other than a bit of security footage showing her leaving the victim’s room. Do I make myself clear!’ It wasn’t a question.

Liz moved toward the door, her lawyer stepped aside and put her hand on Liz’s back, steering her out of the interview room as the Chief moved out of the way to let her through.

Liz walked toward Jack who held a key to her handcuffs. He touched her hands as he unlocked them. ‘I’ll be back at your place soon. Max will take you home. I just need to do a little digging.’ Liz nodded and moved toward Max who had been hovering over Jack’s shoulder. She rubbed her wrists and pulled her jacket on as she headed to the elevator with Felicity and Max as her shadows.

Holding her head high, her shoulders back, she waited for the elevator doors to open. As she stepped in, Max pushed the ground-floor button and the last thing she heard as the doors closed, was Jack grilling the detectives who had brought her in.

Liz let out a choking sigh, fighting back tears as she took shuddering breaths.

‘You’re going to be fine honey. We’ve got this covered.’ Felicity held up a piece of paper as Max moved in protectively, as if expecting Liz to topple over at any moment.

‘What’s that?’ Max was so close, Liz could almost feel his body heat. ‘I’m okay Max.’ He nodded as the elevator doors opened. Placing his hand on the door sensor to keep it open, he waited for her and Felicity to move out before joining them.

Liz smiled at his unusual chivalry. He must have really been worried about her.

‘It’s a Bail Release notice. Signed and sealed by a judge.’

‘Which judge?’ Liz already knew the answer.

‘Judge Cunningham.’

‘How on earth did Jack manage to get his dad to sign a Bail Release for me?’

‘It seems there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for his son.’ Felicity smiled as they moved outside.

‘Or it could be that you saved his arse earlier? I don’t think he’s going to forget that in a hurry.’ Max grinned as he opened the still shiny new Mazda passenger-side door and Liz got in.

Felicity leant in the open door. ‘I’ll contact you before you have to appear in court, but this isn’t going away Liz. I’ve seen the surveillance video from outside the hotel room. No one enters or leaves Ted’s room after you. No one Liz.’

2

Liz sat curled up on her cream leather sofa, a rug thrown over her legs. Even with the fire roaring, she couldn’t get rid of the chill that kept her shivering. Her hand shook as she held the scotch glass, and it wasn’t from the ice. She wondered if she should have selected a warm drink like a hot chocolate, but as she sipped the liquor, the warm sensation told her she’d made the right choice. She needed something to dull her senses.

Ted was dead. Why? Who? She’d known him for years. They’d travelled to Europe, the US, UK, even the Caribbean. She’d sun-bathed on his multi-million-dollar yacht in tropical waters. They’d even followed the Grand Prix circuit around the world back in the nineties.

He was more than a client, he was a part of her history, a part she wasn’t willing to let go, not yet. Her alter ego, Foxy, had been more than an escort to Ted—maybe Foxy only existed because of Ted.

‘Liz, I’ve seen the footage.’ Jack stood in front of the fire and drank the last of his scotch.

‘You can fill that up if you like.’ Liz took a deep breath and returned her gaze to the bottom of her own glass.

Jack considered the empty tumbler a moment, obviously contemplating if another was wise, before walking to the counter and opening Liz’s alcohol cabinet. She could tell what he was thinking, and understood his hesitation, recalling the last time they’d been alone in her apartment and had had a few too many drinks.

‘Someone must have doctored the video.’ Jack poured a single shot and put the bottle back, his hand resting on it, undecided if a single shot was enough.

‘Ted is really dead?’ The crime scene photo of Ted, naked, eyes staring up at the ceiling invaded her memory.

Jack turned to Liz. ‘Were you in love with him?’ The question surprised her. She tried to smile, but her face felt numb, everything felt numb.

‘In a way, I guess.’ Jack took a large mouthful of his drink and seemed to struggle to swallow. ‘Not in the traditional sense.’ He looked up and Liz put her glass down on the coffee table.

‘It’s complicated Jack.’ He nodded.

‘I understand.’ She knew he didn’t, but how was she going to make him understand?

‘I didn’t kill him Jack, but I’m sure as hell going to find out who did.’ She stood and moved across the lounge room towards him.

‘I better go.’ He skulled the rest of his scotch, putting the glass down, as he moved toward the door. Liz stepped in front of him and put her hand on his arm.

‘You believe me,’ she waited as he stared past her to the door beyond, ‘don’t you?’ He sighed before placing his hand over hers.

‘I managed to get a copy of the surveillance footage. You can give it to Scott tonight. See what the IT master can find.’

‘You didn’t answer me Jack. Do you believe me? I didn’t kill Ted.’

‘I believe you Liz. It’s just...’

‘That I was working?’ she finished for him, then pulled her hand out from under his. ‘Where’s the recording?’

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a USB stick, holding it up in front of her. ‘Scott will find something. If he doesn’t, we’ll keep digging until we do.’

‘You’re not on the case Jack.’

‘Not yet.’

‘Are you sure you want to get that close to....’ She was going to say me, but that wasn’t what she meant—was it? ‘my work,’ she finished.

‘I’m not sure of much Liz, but I’m sure you were there for me when evidence was planted in my apartment. I’m bloody well not going to desert you when I can return the favour.’ A slow grin moved across his face and Liz’s breath caught in her throat. His crystal blue eyes looked bright again and warmth spread through her body once more.

She moved in close and took the USB from his hand, holding on for a moment. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. He shook his head as if to say, it’s nothing. ‘No really. You have no idea how much this means to me.’

‘Get some sleep. We’ll all see you tomorrow.’ Jack glanced at his watch and corrected himself. ‘Later today.’ He looked earnest. ‘We’ll work this out Liz. I promise.’

3

Liz dragged herself out of bed. Her eyes felt like they were full of sand and her head throbbed. One too many shots of scotch could have been to blame for the latter. She set the shower going and checked her mobile. It was nearly mid-day.

She’d sent the video to Scott, before heading to bed. It would have been an ideal time for him to work on it.

There were no missed calls and it was too late to ring him now, the night owl would be sleeping. Opening her email, she flicked through and found what she was looking for. Steam from the shower drifted out of her bathroom into the bedroom. She left her phone, deciding a hot shower was more of a priority right now. It would ease her aches and she needed to clear her head.

As soon as the hot water hit her body, she sighed. The muscles in her neck were stiff and sore, but as the water ran through her hair and down her back she began to relax.

Ten minutes later she was warm, dry and dressed in three-quarter yoga pants, and a Lululemon long-sleeved top. A quick check in the mirror revealed she needed some blush and mascara or she was going to look like the walking dead.

The sound of her buzzer announced her visitors had arrived. Liz grabbed her watch and mobile from the side-table and moved to the kitchen, habitually checking her security camera on her kitchen countertop tablet on the way. Seeing Jenny’s face pushed up against the camera, her tongue poking in and out making silly faces eased whatever tension remained.

Liz flicked her coffee machine on as she moved past on her way to open the front door.

‘How are you doing?’

‘Better than I was at 2am. Come in.’ Liz moved toward her kitchen, leaving Jenny to shut the door behind her. ‘Coffee?’

‘Absolutely.’ Jenny plonked down heavily on the first stool she came to. ‘Max texted a message to say he is running late.’

‘Okay. How’s Anderson?’

Jenny shrugged. ‘Okay I guess?’

‘You didn’t go to his place last night after you left headquarters?’ Liz looked over her shoulder as she retrieved the caramel syrup from the top cupboard and poured a serve into a mug ready for Jenny’s favourite latte.

‘No. When you got taken down to the station, he headed off. I think he’s doing some digging. With his federal connections, he might be able to find out more about Ted, or even your stalker who said he was referred by Ted, but wasn’t.’

‘I’d forgotten all about him.’ Liz put her hands on her hips with a suspicious look in her eye. ‘Don’t change the subject. You didn’t flinch when I asked about Anderson’s place.’

‘That’s because he lives with his mum and we are just friends.’

‘Sure you are.’ Liz started the coffee machine and conversation ceased as the whir of crushing coffee beans filled the kitchen. Just the aroma was enough to send much needed endorphins into Liz’s brain. As she placed Jenny’s latte down on the counter, the door buzzer sounded again. ‘We’ll finish this conversation later.’ Liz moved to the door.

‘You aren’t exactly one to talk you know.’ Liz stopped, her hand on the door. The buzzer sounded again and she had to let the comment go. She knew what Jenny was alluding to, but she was way off beam. Jack was only returning a favour. She had just helped save his career and his corrupt father afterall.

Ten minutes later Max arrived