Page 8 of Deadly Pride

Jade lived on the fourth floor of an apartment complex that had seen better days. Plaster in bad need of painting looked as if someone tried to build with a Spanish theme. Liam eyed the rusting staircase, wondering if it would hold his weight.

“Why can't there be an elevator?” Harper groaned.

“Guess the star attraction doesn't make enough to afford a place with one.” Liam motioned her to go ahead of him. “I also spotted Amber's car in the spot for 3A. We can check in on both of them.” Then go get some rest.

They stopped first at Amber's. She was not happy to see them on her doorstep if the frown on her face was any indication.

“Did you follow me?” She glared.

“No, we're here to see someone else and saw your car.” Liam smiled, trying to put her at ease. “We thought we'd make sure you made it home alright.”

“You think I could be in danger?” Her eyes widened. “I don't have anything in common with the Richardsons. I live paycheck to paycheck.”

Liam peered past her into her apartment. She might live cheaply, but the interior looked clean, everything in its place. A bookshelf full of paperbacks took up one wall.

“My guilty pleasure,” she said.

“You could have worse ones. Goodnight, ma'am.” He stepped back and followed Harper to the fourth floor.

“Do you think Amber could be in danger?” She glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Until we get a better idea of what makes our killer tick, it's safe to say anyone with any connection to the Richardsons could be.” He knocked on the door to Jade's apartment. When no one answered, he knocked again, harder the second time.

A young woman with jet black hair and dark eyes answered the door. “What?”

Liam introduced them. “We'd like to ask you some questions about Lance Richardson.”

“Like what?”

“Were you aware he was killed?”

She paled. “No. I rarely watch the news and today was my day off work. I stayed home and caught up on cleaning.” She raised a trembling hand to her throat.

“We were told the two of you were close.” Not exactly those words.

“No. He liked to watch me dance. Bought me the occasional drink, but our relationship didn't go any further than that.”

Since she didn't work that day, she wouldn't be an alibi for Mark. “Any idea who would wish him dead?”

“Probably every person he had business dealings with. This is a lot to take in. I need to sit down.” Rather than invite them in, she sat on a plastic chair outside her door.

Harper shot him a curious look and peered into an apartment the exact opposite of Amber's. Where she was neat, Jade was anything but. Clothes lay scattered over every piece of furniture. Dirty dishes littered the coffee table.

“Excuse the mess,” Jade said. “That’s why I didn’t ask you in. When I get home from work, I'm too tired to do anything but lay around. I had good intentions today, but…”

“Sloth,” Harper mouthed.

He nodded. Of course, a person could probably assign any of the deadly sins to every living person in one way or another.

“I guess the club will be closing down.” Jade hung her head. “With Lance...gone and no one to take it over...” she sighed. “I'd better start looking for another job. There's no shortage of strip clubs, fortunately.”

Liam wanted to tell her she had other options, but maybe she didn't have any other skills besides dancing. Why hurt her feelings? “Be careful, ma'am. We aren't dismissing the notion that anyone who had connections with Richardson isn't in danger.”

Something hit his cheek. He put his hand to his face, bringing his fingers away bloody as something popped, and another chunk of plaster fell from the wall. “Someone is shooting at us.” He tackled Jade to the ground and rolled into her apartment with her. “Stay down.”

He pulled his weapon and moved to the window, keeping his back against the wall and peered through the blinds. A dark SUV idled in the parking lot.

“The shooter?” Harper asked.

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