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  Dressed to Kill

  An Avery Rich Mystery

  Sara B. Gauldin

  Dressed to Kill

  Copyright© 2019 by Sara B. Gauldin

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book 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. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All Rights Reserved. World Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the copyright owner, except brief quotations for the purpose of reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. The names and characters come from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Similarly, the locations and incidents in this book, which might resemble real locations and events, are being used fictitiously and are not to be considered as real.

  Chapter 1

  It was Thursday. I hated Thursdays. It was the only day of the week where I left my little cabin on the edge of the national forest to drive to the tiny town of Allenspark where I met with my psychiatrist, Dr. Max Stevens. After our session, I'd shop for groceries and supplies. I had to risk showing my face in public to fill these basic needs and deal with day-to-day life.

  Dr. Stevens’s office was a brick box set in a row of other brick boxes. It served its purpose, but that was the most I could say for it. He was in practice for himself, and despite his meager office accommodations, he was the only therapist within an hour's drive in any direction, which kept him busy.

  I pushed myself against the back of my seat, wishing I was anywhere but the psychiatrist’s office. "Dr. Stevens, I think none of this is helping. I just need something to help me sleep. Then I’ll be back to normal."

  "Avery, I think we both know medicating you will not fix the problem," Dr. Stephens said.

  "I have night terrors. If I were knocked out, I could get some rest and then life would be good. No worries." I stared at the potted plant near the window to avoid looking at him.

  He sighed. "Or it traps you in the dream, unable to wake yourself because of the medication. I'd think that's something you'd want to avoid."

  "That would be bad," I admitted.

  "So why don't you tell me about the latest dream?" Dr. Stephens said.

  "I don't know why I keep having these dreams. The case was closed almost a year ago." I changed the subject. These sessions would not drag on and on if the doctor would just tell me why I was having the flashbacks and night terrors. Instead, he seemed determined to dredge everything up, over and over, until I'd made some personal revelation. Somehow, that seemed a long way off.

  "Let's look at this straight on. Your mind is trying to work through some kind of trauma. Something has touched you deeply. You won’t be able to put whatever the situation is behind you until you let it out and face it."

  "There’s nothing. Only the dreams."

  "Avery, you can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself. Those dreams came from somewhere. The fear and pain came from a real place and time. You may not be ready to go back there, but until you’re able to face the cause of the pain, you won’t get rid of the effects."

  I stared at the ceiling, weighing my options. Almost a minute later, I realized I didn't have many options if I wanted to shut the dreams out. "I was back in Alexandria, where I used to work."

  "Good." Dr. Stevens wrote something on his notepad. "Go on."

  "I was running down the street. Every car I passed was rigged with explosives. They blew up as I passed. I tried to scream and warn the people ahead of me, but when they turned, they had the faces of the George family and all the people involved in my last two cases."

  "You mean the arson case, as well?"

  "Yes. And it went on and on. So many people. All of them dying. Some of them innocent, and some of them guilty. I freeze there, and I watch them all die until..."

  "Yes?"

  "When the smoke from the explosion clears, they're all still there, laughing at me."

  "Why do you think that is?" Dr. Stevens asked.

  "They know something I don't." I shivered as I recalled the nightmare.

  Dr. Stevens scribbled something else in his notebook. "Then, what happened?"

  "I take off, and they all follow me. I'm running down the street with my heart racing, but no matter how hard I push myself, they keep coming. It’s like something out of an old horror movie; they keep catching up, and I know I can’t win."

  "Avery, what happens next?"

  I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to remember to breathe. "It gets darker. I look up, and there's something above them, blocking out the sun. Then, I realize there are strings coming down from the thing in the sky." A rogue tear escaped from the corner of my eye, and I wiped it with my sleeve.

  "Strings—why do you suppose you saw strings?" Dr. Stevens pushed his heavy glasses back in place on his nose.

  "The strings are connected to the people who are chasing me. They're all just puppets, living, undying puppets. I can never see what's controlling them."

  "What happens next?"

  "I scream, and that wakes me up."

  "Very interesting. Why do you think you dreamed that?"

  I sighed. “Isn’t interpretation your job?”

  Dr. Stevens clicked the pen in his hand as he prepared to add something to his notes. “Understanding what bothers you is something we can do together.”

  "I...I don't know."

  "Did any part of your dream actually happen?"

  "Yeah. I saw my commander in Alexandria die in a car bombing."

  "Anything else?"

  "Well, the people were real."

  "And all of them were part of your last two cases? None of them were part of your other cases before that?"

  "No, I think they were all from just the last two," I said.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Well, it's just that some of them didn't seem to have faces. It was like they were wearing one of those clear plastic masks."

  "So, you don't know the identity of all of your attackers. How does that make you feel?"

  A wave of nausea hit me. I swallowed hard, willing my body to cooperate. "Feel?" My voice came out an octave higher, but I had uncorked the bottle, and there was no putting it back now. "I feel like nobody is who they say they are. For all I know, you’re one of them!"

  “Who is ‘them’?”

  "Them! They're all these sick freaks, trying to kill me. They want…well, they want power. And revenge."

  "Do you want power and revenge?"

  "I...I want to feel safe. I want to believe I can build a future."

  "Avery, how does not knowing who to trust make you feel?"

  "Terrified. I never wanted to see the world this way."

  "So, what is it that’s bothering you?"

  "Not knowing who to trust or who wants to take me out of the picture. Not being able to trust that the rich and powerful aren’t preying on others."

  "Others like you?"

  "Yes."

  "You said you wanted to build a future. What will happen if you don't try?"

  "I'm not sure. Maybe nothing; I mean, nothing good will happen."

  "Then, by not trying, you’re accepting failure."

  "My choices were taken away from me."

  "Possibly. For a time. But now, who’s stopping you?"

  "I...I wish I knew."

  "You should take some time to think about that this week."

  "Sure." I stared at the wall, wishing I could know for sure.

  Chapter 2

  The fireplace crackled as the blizzard howled outside. There was a time
in my life when being snowed in would have left me in a claustrophobic panic. Those days were behind me. Being isolated from civilization was a break in the persistent worry at the back of my mind. If nobody could visit, then nobody could hunt me down. With Mother Nature as my security system, I was safe. I stood up and poked the log in the fire. The temperature in the tiny mountain cabin had dipped before the storm, but it rose again once the snow had provided some insulation.

  A folded piece of paper on the mantle caught my eye. My former partner, Ryan Kain, had left me the letter when he had, once more, gone on the run. I sighed and picked it up.

  I called my rescue dog, Milly, over to sit beside me on the couch. She was at ease, stretching out with her head in my lap. Watching her as she healed from a past I'd never know helped me to do the same. I ruffled her golden fur as she lounged beside me, her tongue hanging out as she hogged the couch.

  I unfolded the letter again. The careworn paper was crumpled and creased from the many times I'd read it, looking for some hidden message from Ryan. It was more of a habit than necessity. I had read his goodbye so many times I could recite it. It never gave me any more answers than it had the first time I'd read it:

  Avery,

  I know that knowing about the surrounding corruption is a burden you never knew you'd carry. I grew up expecting this world would be mine. You were also taught the skills you needed to survive. They have served you well.

  Thank you for risking your life to save mine. Few would have done what you did, and few could have pulled it off. Please use the funds to start over, reunite with your family, and take some time to heal. The next case will find you when you're ready.

  Love,

  R. K.

  I shook my head. Ryan had left me to fend for myself with ten million dollars in cash to ease my transition. My imagination had run away with me when he'd first left, and I'd convinced myself that the money was dirty. It wasn’t until Genevieve Richards had called in favors from her FBI contacts to verify its status with their forensic accountants that I accepted the gift was real.

  So, what does an unemployed police detective do with ten million dollars? After the mess of my last two assignments, I used it to disappear. I knew Tori had the money tracked—so be it; I needed to heal.

  The wind outside howled. I shivered and pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and onto my lap. Reading my book had done nothing to unsettle me. I grabbed a tablet from the end table and checked the security cameras covering the house inside and out to make sure I was alone. Nobody was there, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.

  I flipped on the TV and tried to find a comedy. It was all I could tolerate. The storm was affecting the satellite. The only station I could pick up was a news network. I sighed and watched anyway. Part of me wondered what was happening in the real world, outside of my self-imposed isolation. Another part of me was afraid to find out.

  A middle-aged anchorman sat at the news desk. "This just in: we are getting reports from the Los Olivos California Police Department's murder investigation. A source within the department tells us that they have identified the body as Ralph Maddox, founder and CEO of Cybertech, the multi-billion dollar tech company."

  A photograph of Ralph Maddox flashed on the screen. He looked familiar, but I presumed it was because of his public persona.

  "Witnesses say Ava Lenore, Maddox's on-again, off-again love interest was with him at the time of the attack."

  The image next to the anchor changed to a video clip of Ava Lenore in a trailer for a romance movie.

  "They have transported Lenore to the Los Olivos Hospital where she is being treated for undisclosed injuries. The area surrounding where Maddox was found is closed off, causing massive traffics issue from Gold Street to Oceana Drive. Avoid that area if possible."

  No problem there—I'm staying as far away as possible!

  I turned off the TV and picked up the book I'd been reading. Milly didn't seem to miss the digital distraction. We'd just settled in when the phone rang, startling me out of my momentary peace. I scrambled to grab the phone from the end table.

  “Hello?” I waited.

  “Hi, Avery. How’s my favorite detective?”

  “I’m off the force, Dad.”

  “Sure. I know you’re taking a break, but that doesn’t mean you’re ready to retire. You’re young. Your whole life is ahead of you. I know you said you had a couple of tough cases, but you got through it. I’m sure it made you stronger.”

  “Dad, it’s not that simple.”

  “Avery Rich, you’ve been unemployed for a full year, now. There are things about this that don’t add up, and we both know it. I didn’t raise you to depend on others.”

  “Dad, I’m not asking for anything.”

  “That’s part of what worries me. I know you won’t tell me what happened. We’ve been over that. But maybe you can decide about your next move.”

  "You know that’s part of my job. I can't tell you everything about my cases."

  "Everything? I think you mean anything. You ended up on every network news station as a wanted woman. I know you’re trying to protect me from something, but that’s not your job, Avery."

  "It is my job," I argued.

  "From here, it looks like you don't have a job."

  "Ouch, Dad. You sure know how to make a point."

  "Look, Avery: I don't want to fight. Come home. Visit. Spend some time here. You have to rejoin the world sometime. I'll even pay for the plane ticket."

  "No need. I can buy my own ticket."

  "So, you'll come?"

  "Yeah, but just for the holidays. Oh, and on the condition that I can bring my dog, Milly, with me."

  "It's a deal.” I could hear the joy of victory in Dad's voice.

  After we ended our call, I felt a pang of regret. I didn't know if the bee's hive I'd stirred up in Alexandria had quieted yet. It had been over a year since the George family had tried to frame me and have me murdered to cover their trail. Things had been quiet, but something about the quiet made me uncomfortable.

  Chapter 3

  I looked out the window of my cabin as I made my morning coffee. The kitchen was warm and cozy. There was a foot of snow masking the forest, making it into an unspoiled wonderland. Snow days had always been my favorite as a child, and some spark inside me was ready to take Milly for some fun in the snow.

  I drank my coffee in a hurry and ate a slice of jelly toast before layering on my ski pants and parka and slipping my sidearm into the deep, jacket pocket. My place was isolated, but there were bears and other wildlife in the woods nearby, and I did not welcome an uninvited guest, be it human or animal.

  Milly and I headed out onto the front deck. The excitement in her eyes when she saw the fresh powder was contagious. Milly rushed down the front steps and into the wide clearing around the front of the cabin. I cleaned a large branch that had been knocked down by the snow for a game of fetch and threw the branch as far as I could, over and over until my muscles screamed for mercy. Our breaths came in icy clouds. The bitter chill of winter made my hands numb, but I welcomed the lack of sensation. It was a welcome change from the hyper-vigilance I was unable to turn off.

  Milly showed no sign of tiring. This game was her favorite, and the snow made it new. After too many tosses to count, my arm couldn't take it anymore. Milly galloped back to me with the branch, but this time I leaned over and gave her a hug. "Sorry, girl, my arm is done for." I ran my gloved fingers through her golden fur. A moment later, Milly's smile faded. She focused on something behind me and barked once. I reached for the gun in my pocket in the same motion as my turn. “Please don't just be the mailman,” I grumbled to myself.

  Milly lunged forward in the split second before I saw a small, bundled figure standing between me and my front door. I aimed my weapon at the intruder, but my mind was moving faster than my frozen hands. How had they gotten here? Were they alone? I scanned for movement around us.

  The person held up her hands an
d said, "Whoa, Avery! I didn't come to rob you!" Her voice was familiar.

  "Who are you? What do you want?" I demanded.

  "May I take off my scarf?" she answered.

  "Slowly."

  The woman unwound her heavy scarf and removed her ski goggles to reveal the brilliant blue eyes characteristic of the Kain family. "See? I'm just here for a friendly visit. If it isn't too much trouble, could you lower your weapon? I'm finding it less than welcoming." She smiled.

  I sighed, but I returned my gun to my coat pocket. If she'd wanted me dead, I already would have been. "Tori, we both know you don't make friendly visits. What do you want?"

  "Right now, I’d like to warm up." She gestured toward the cabin with her gloved hand. "Aren't you freezing out here?"

  I knew I should be cold, but the surge of adrenaline was making me feel flushed and uncomfortable. "Fine. I guess I can spare a cup of coffee."

  "Great! I'll take a non-fat latte with a caramel drizzle."

  I opened the door, waved Tori in, collected Milly, and attempted to de-snow her. "This isn't Starbucks. I have a doughnut blend from the grocery store."

  Tori opened and closed her mouth, rethinking her response. "That will do."

  After toweling Milly off a second time in the entryway, I shed my layers and hung my wet coat and ski pants on the hook beside Tori's. She'd made herself quite at home. I found her sitting at the bar in the kitchen, finishing my pot of coffee. I bit my lip and set about brewing another pot. I had offered, after all.

  "So, how have things been?" Tori looked at me with her head tilted to one side. The gesture reminded me of a terrier.

  I scooped the coffee from the can. "Quiet."

  "I suppose that's a good thing. Avery, I think it's safe to rejoin the real world, now. The George family and everyone tied to them are under a microscope now. They're way past the revenge stage of their fall from grace. I'd say they've moved on to acceptance."

  "I can't say the same. They tried to frame me and have me killed."