Sly, Slick & Wicked (Kendra Clayton Series) by Angela Henry

Author:Angela Henry [Henry, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, Cozy, Women Sleuths
Amazon: B00A8Q7VO4
Publisher: Boulevard West Press
Published: 2013-12-18T05:00:00+00:00

TEN

It was déjà vu when I woke up on the floor outside the projection room. Just like Justin’s murder scene, a paramedic was tending to me. The projection room was filled with police. I tried to sit up.

“What happened?” I asked, feeling weird and out of it. The paramedic, a big burly man with hairy forearms, pushed me back down.

“Don’t move, ma’am. I need to check you out.” He pressed a stethoscope to my chest to listen to my heartbeat.

“But what happened?’ I asked again.

“From the marks on your arm, it looks like someone used a stun gun on you.” I immediately touched my left arm and felt two small, raised marks that hurt like hell.

“She okay?” came a deep voice from the projection room doorway. I looked up to see Mason the buff guy Harmon had met at the Weenie Hut, the one who’d been following me. Up close he was even better looking. I could see he had a cleft in his chin like an action figure.

“Heartbeat’s steady and strong and no other injuries. She should be fine,” declared the paramedic. I slowly sat up. And then the paramedic and Mason helped me to my feet. I was unsteady and leaned against the wall for support.

“You feel well enough to answer some questions?” Mason asked with his hand on my shoulder.

“She’d damned well better be,” said Trish Harmon coming out of the projection room looking like she could chew nails.

“How did you know about Mr. Paul?” I asked. “I didn’t call the police.”

“We got an anonymous tip that a major drug deal was going down here this evening. We get here and find you unconscious on the floor not twenty feet away from a guy with a bullet in his head. How do you explain this, Ms. Clayton?” Harmon was livid but so was I.

“How do you explain not telling me you’ve had one of your officers following me? You knew how scared I’ve been about that car following me and you treated me like I was a paranoid idiot!”

Harmon’s face flushed but she said nothing. We glared at each other.

“Actually, I’m Detective Blake Mason, Ms. Clayton. I’m Detective Harmon’s new partner. And I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Partner? Oh my God! Did Mercer?” I let the question hang in the air.

“Mercer’s fine. He’s retiring for health reasons,” replied Harmon. “Now, can you please tell us what the hell you were doing here at this time of night?”

“I came to get this.” I reached into my back pocket for the list of Venus Studio’s board of directors but my pocket was empty. I checked all my pockets but the list was gone. Whoever killed Elton Paul must have taken it.

“Get what?” asked Harmon.

I told her about my conversation with Lauren Ramey and the possibility that one of Venus Studio’s investor’s could have killed Justin, as well as about the list of Venus Studio’s Board of Director’s I found on the computer, and watched her face go from pink to a deep mottled red.

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