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Sympathy For The Devil




  Sympathy for the Devil

  A Stirling Falls Novel

  Asha King

  By Asha King

  Published by Phaze Books

  Near to You

  Bad Moon Rising

  I Who Have Nothing*

  Wild Horses

  Wild Horses: Cold, Cold Winter

  Sympathy for the Devil

  Gimme Shelter*

  Circle of Friends: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

  Circle of Friends: Still in Love with You*

  *Forthcoming

  This is an explicit and erotic novel

  intended for the enjoyment

  of adult readers. Please keep

  out of the hands of children.

  www.Phaze.com

  Sympathy for the Devil

  Copyright © 2013 by Asha King

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Edited by Adrienne Jones

  Cover Art © 2013 by Asha King

  First Edition August 2013

  ISBN-13: 978-1-60659-729-3

  Published by:

  Phaze Books

  An imprint of Celeritas Unlimited LLC

  6457 Glenway Ave., #109

  Cincinnati, OH 45211

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Celeritas Unlimited LLC, 6457 Glenway Avenue, #109, Cincinnati, Ohio 45211, books@mundania.com.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Legal File Usage – Your Rights

  Payment of the download fee for this book grants the purchaser the right to download and read this file, and to maintain private backup copies of the file for the purchaser’s personal use only.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this or any copyrighted work is illegal. Authors are paid on a per-purchase basis. Any use of this file beyond the rights stated above constitutes theft of the author’s earnings. File sharing is an international crime, prosecuted by the United States Department of Justice Division of Cyber Crimes, in partnership with Interpol. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by seizure of computers, up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 per reported instance. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

  Production by Celeritas Unlimited LLC

  Acknowledgement

  Thank you to Aylia, for answering what I dared not ask Google.

  Return

  Hastings Creek was silent, the water still in the light of a waning moon. Even nocturnal creatures—birds, mammals, and bugs that called the area home—were quiet, not stirring at all as if they knew the evil night brought.

  In the silence, plastic crackled.

  He could haul her over his shoulder, sure, but he liked the deliberate drag marks in the mud. Liked making everything look sloppier than it was.

  Her skin was pale beneath the plastic and stark in the moonlight. Curls of red hair rolled out from under the wrappings where her head lolled. His heels sank into muddy water at his back; with a sigh, he dragged his gloved hand over his brow and let her feet drop. The heat of early July clung to him, weighing down his clothes.

  Dumping a body in summer was never fun.

  At last he returned to his work, bending down to grasp her ankles. He tugged the body, stepping back into the water as he did. When he was up to his knees, he grasped her hips and pulled, then her shoulders, pushing her off into the creek. She floated gently in the otherwise still waters, plastic glittering as the surface of the creek did.

  For a few minutes he watched, the body gaining speed the farther it went, until he was certain it wouldn’t catch near the bank nearby, then he sloshed through the water for the shore.

  This message, with any luck, would tell Stirling Falls exactly one thing...

  Guess who’s back in town?

  Chapter One

  Natasha Whitaker ducked through the front door of Main Street’s Bar & Grill into the din of country music, laughter and voices chatting, and cues striking balls in the corner pool table. Closed for usual business though open in that all of Stirling Falls’ residents were invited in, the bar was hopping with energy and full to the brim with people. Multi-colored streamers fluttered when people moved and a wall of thick, humid air struck her. Mr. Holloway apparently didn’t have the air conditioner running—the thing seemed to die at least three times every summer.

  She clutched her purse to her and squeezed between a pair of heavy-set truckers in a lineup for the bar, ducked under an arm swinging a stein of beer, and burst through a break in the crowd only to bump into a very, very pregnant woman.

  Her best friend, Danyiah Jackson, turned, brown eyes wide and startled for a moment before warming. “Yay, you’re finally here!”

  Tash hugged her friend in greeting, though awkwardly with the large baby bump in between them. “Don’t take this the wrong way, sweetie, but every time I see you, I think you’ve somehow possibly squeezed more fetuses in there.”

  They parted and Dani grinned, rubbing her hand across her abdomen. “So far it’s just the one but I suspect it’s not planning on leaving—there’s probably a crib and dresser in there already.” She wore a white baby-doll style dress with spaghetti straps, the hem falling to her knees, loose and comfortable. Her long black hair was pinned up, but sweat beaded her brow—the heat must be getting to her too.

  “Do you want a drink or something?”

  “Adam’s supposed to be getting me water.”

  Tash cocked one thin black brow in skepticism. Dani’s boyfriend, Adam, doted on her excessively—if he’d been intending to get her something, he’d already be back. “What happened to him?”

  Dani pointed across the bar to where Adam was in a corner arguing with his boss, Gus, about something or another—the sound of their voices didn’t carry across the room.

  “Something to do with some Tennessee Walking Horses being boarded at the farm and the owners are idiots—blah blah, the hell if I know what he’s going on about.”

  “Sit for a minute and I’ll get you something.”

  “Uh...” Dani cast her eyes around the room.

  Right, there was pretty much standing room only. Well, the hell with that. Most of these people didn’t need to be sitting. She spotted a couple of teens at a table a few feet away—nothing wrong with their legs and none of them was pregnant considering they were all boys.

  Tash grasped Dani’s arm and guided her for the table.

  “Really, it’s okay—”

  Tash gave her a warning look. “I’m armed and I’m tired. I’ll brook no argument on this.”

  Dani visibly backed off and smiled. “You’re the one with the gun.”

  They stopped in front of the table where one boy had his legs stretched out, feet on the spare chair. He gazed up lazily and gave her a cocky grin. “What?”

  “Move.”

  “Ah, come on, we were here—”

  “You’re here in a bar drinking and you haven’t even graduated high school yet, Tommy.”

  “No I’m not!”


  “Pro tip, hot shot: Coke does not hide the smell of rum. Nothing can.”

  “But—”

  “Do I need to get your father?”

  Tommy glowered at her and dropped his feet from the chair with a heavy thud, loud even over the din of noise in the room. His boots had left a dusting of dirt on the chair; Tash looked pointedly at the evidence of his footwear on the seat, then back at him.

  He cursed under his breath but nothing she could call him on. Instead she waited while he swept off the seat with his hand and then stood abruptly, nodding at his companions and jerking his thumb over his shoulder. The group of them got up and left.

  Dani took the vacated seat, shaking her head and chuckling. “One day, when my kid’s in trouble, it’s not going to call you, the cool aunt. Oh no, it’ll come straight home to me because you are so not gonna provide bail money.”

  “Oh honey, your kid’s already a lost cause—it’ll be arrested before you leave the hospital. Now I,” Tash set down her purse next to Dani, “will go get that drink and try to pretend like I’ve been here for an hour.” She slipped away from the table, squeezing between patrons again. At least she wasn’t underdressed by the look of it; everyone around here dressed casual no matter the occasion, so her dark low-rise jeans and black tank top fit in fine. She swiped curly black hair from her brow and wedged herself in a spot at the bar.

  The bartender was at the other end, rushing to take orders. It seemed insane they only had one guy working tonight. She frowned as she waited, drumming her fingers on the countertop. Patience was not something she’d been born with and she wouldn’t start now. With a sigh she left the bar and headed around the side, ducking beneath the counter and heading straight for the mini-fridge.

  “Hey!” the guy at the end called but she gave him her warning look. She didn’t immediately recognize him but he must’ve known her as he backed off. “Sorry,” he continued while she retrieved a bottle of water for Dani and bottle of smoked Scotch ale for herself. “Amy is AWOL and I can’t get in a replacement.”

  “On the guest of honor’s tab,” she said, indicating the bottles, then ducked back out from under the bar.

  Adam Cooper spotted her and headed over, eyes darting to the water and mouth opening to likely come up with some explanation.

  She handed him the bottle of water for Dani. “Go, take this to your woman before she expires.”

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  Tash rolled her eyes. “Working. You don’t want to know.” Her back still hurt from the tree she’d been lodged in for hours waiting for her client’s husband to show up with his mistress. The good news was she had photos and soon the other half of her paycheck. The bad news was she nearly missed her boss’s retirement party.

  “They haven’t done the cake yet—they were waiting for you.”

  She winced. “I know, I’m sorry. Give Dani her water and I’ll come sit with you guys in a sec.”

  They parted, Adam for the center of the restaurant where Dani waited and Natasha for the door at the back that said KITCHEN – STAFF ONLY. She wasn’t staff but, much like the bar, it didn’t stop her from strolling in like she owned the place. She hadn’t opened her bottle of ale yet but just holding the condensation-drenched bottle cooled her off considerably.

  Shoulder-first, she pushed through the staff door and into the brightly lit kitchen. One fan spun overhead while another sat on the end of the counter and turned back and forth, drying the sweat on her skin and blowing her hair.

  A familiar person leaned against the counter, holding open a paperback book with a worn spine—an old Harlequin, of all things, and it caused a bit of cognitive dissonance, seeing a large, gruff man in old jeans and a crookedly-buttoned denim shirt reading a romance novel.

  “Hey kid,” he said without looking up.

  “You hiding?” She strolled over to his side. Gregory Malone, local private investigator extraordinaire, and her boss and mentor for the past few years. Though he wasn’t doing anything with his retirement other than fishing and spending time with his wife, Natasha would still miss him.

  Malone waved her off, eyes still on his book. “They didn’t notice.”

  She leaned against the counter next to him and unscrewed the cap from her drink. “They’re gonna notice when I bring out the cake and there’s no one to cut it.”

  He sighed, dog-eared the page he was on, and closed the book. Tash offered him her ale, which he accepted. “Maybe I can put it off—”

  “Nuh-uh, no way. Again, there is cake, sir. Cake. You can’t put it off once there’s cake involved.”

  He took a pull from the smoked ale, then gazed down at the bottle appreciatively. “Yeah, and Susan’ll be on my case about it. But,” he glanced at Tash sideways, “you know I’m still here. If you need anything—”

  “I’ll be fine,” she promised. And she would, too. She’d been preparing for this, after all. Long hours, extra cases. Sure, the sign would still read MALONE AND ASSOCIATES, PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS on the door. For now. People trusted the Malone name, after all.

  Eventually it would be Whitaker. In the meantime, she was basically the new Malone.

  “You head out,” she patted his shoulder, “and I’ll find the cake.” The heels of her sandals clicked on the tile as she crossed the bright kitchen.

  “Tash.”

  She paused and glanced over her shoulder.

  Malone stood tall and when he wasn’t slouching, he looked imposing—a big, bearded mountain who was like a wall of fleshy denim. But he had a soft heart and a soft smile, the latter of which he offered her now. “You know there’s no race. Take a break once in a while. Have fun. It’s even more important when I’m gone.”

  “I promise I will. There’ll be Dani’s baby to concern myself with and who knows, I might even date. Maybe. At some point.” Before he could laugh, she added, “It could happen.”

  Malone shook his head, mumbled something she couldn’t make out, and ambled out of the kitchen.

  Tash sighed and continued for the fridge. Honestly, she didn’t see the big deal. Plenty of men worked long hours and no one said a word. But she was twenty-seven and suddenly a woman who took her job seriously was cause for concern? Antiquated attitudes prevailed in town, and while it wasn’t a surprise, it still burned her a little.

  She found the huge white cake inside the fridge. It just barely fit, the sides narrowly close to brushing icing on the refrigerator walls. For a moment she stared down at it—a blue lake across the front of it and fishing pole. HAPPY RETIREMENT, GREGORY!

  Her eyes were wet and heavy, an unexpected swell of emotion rushing over her. He’d been a good boss, a good mentor. And even though it merely meant he wouldn’t be working in the office anymore, still, things were changing.

  With a sigh, Tash carefully slid the cake from a fridge, knocked the door shut with her heel, and headed out of the kitchen.

  ****

  The party was still in full swing but the heat was definitely getting to Natasha. Adam had taken Danyiah home already, a few of the families had left, and the noise inside had grown louder, full of raucous laughter and loud music. She slipped outside, unnoticed, for air.

  There wasn’t much to be had outside, the atmosphere heavy and stagnant. She leaned against the side of the Bar & Grill and wished she could’ve brought a beer.

  A glance at her watch put it at after eleven. Tomorrow was Saturday and while technically not a work day, she’d be in the office anyway. There were the last of Malone’s files to sort, the upcoming week’s cases to go over, and a host of other things.

  Main Street was silent, with the whole town mostly closed up even on a Friday night. There was another bar open a few blocks away, but aside from the thrum of heavy metal and periodic shouting voices that carried, Stirling Falls might as well have been a ghost town.

  Dirt scraping under shoe treads drew her attention to the left. An alley bisected Main Street, right by the Bar & Grill. Shadows hid
whoever was there until light at the end of a cigarette flared, briefly showing the figure of a man before fading. Smoke drifted out.

  “Private party?” he asked, and the cigarette flared again. His voice was deep and rich, edged in gravel—the kind of voice that could give a girl goose bumps if he said just the right thing.

  “Yes and no. It’d be awkward if you didn’t know the guest of honor. There’s Eight’s over on Prince, though. Follow the noise. Pay extra and they’ll let you smoke in there, too.”

  He blew out more smoke, pale gray floating onto the street. “I should quit.”

  “Probably.” Naturally nosy, she tried to peer at him as closely as possible without actually staring. But the shadows were too thick to make out much other than his height and build—tall and broad. Her lips parted to say more but a revved engine and squeal of tires drew her focus to her right.

  A dark two-door car halted in the street outside of the Bar & Grill, double parking on an angle. The driver’s door swung open while the car was still rocking, engine still running and headlights cutting across the road. A man flew out of the vehicle, face violently red and she didn’t think it was from the heat.

  As Tash recognized him, she started backing for the Bar & Grill’s door.

  “You!” He thrust his finger forward as he ran toward her. He wasn’t a terribly big guy but anger had a way of making an average-sized man seem huge. “I’m gonna kill you!”

  She reached for her purse and belatedly realized she’d left it inside at Gus’s table, which was where her Beretta 92F waited in a holster. “Calm down, Gordie—”

  “You were on private property—”

  “With your wife’s permission—”