Weapons of Mass Distraction

Weapons of Mass Distraction

Lexi Graves Mysteries, Book 5
Camilla Chafer

Weapons of Mass Distraction

Copyright: Camilla Chafer

Published: December 2013

Publisher: Audacious
ISBN: 978-1-909577-03-9

The right of Camilla Chafer to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

Visit the author online at
www.camillachafer.com
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Other books:

Lexi Graves Mysteries:

Armed & Fabulous

Who Glares Wins

Command Indecision
Shock and Awesome
Weapons of Mass Distraction

Stella Mayweather Series (Urban Fantasy):

Illicit Magic

Unruly Magic

Devious Magic

Magic Rising
Arcane Magic

Contents

Copyright
Synopsis
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
About the author

Weapons of Mass Distraction

When a client drops dead during Lexi’s spin class, she’s not too surprised. After all, it’s a tough class. But within days, another death occurs, this time, on the treadmill. Then, when her running partner bites the dust, it becomes personal.

Sent undercover, Lexi takes a job as Montgomery’s newest gym instructor in a bid to find the killer. With her professional and personal lives headed on a collision course, Lexi is glad to take the case. Now she only has to convince her boss, and new boyfriend, Solomon, that she’s ready to solve her own case after she learns a disturbing connection between the victims. Faced with complex and dangerous circumstances, Lexi needs all of her past experience in order to catch the killer before another person falls victim.

To make matters even more challenging, Lexi’s best friend, Lily, is planning for better or worse with Lexi's brother. Just one problem: all the local wedding boutiques have been repeatedly targeted by a highly organized gang of thieves. Roped into surveillance, rather than taking any chances and losing her best friend’s dress, which would ruin the wedding, Lexi risks having too much to handle. The only thing she has to do is put a killer behind bars, save the dress, and save the day… Piece of cake!

Chapter One

“I’m gonna die,” I puffed as a bead of sweat slid down my forehead before plopping into my cleavage and joining a small puddle of water in my sports bra. To make matters worse, I voluntarily signed up for this spin class, and even suggested to my best friend, Lily, that we hit the gym during a rare moment of good intentions towards my body. Barely twenty minutes into it, my thighs were screaming and my lungs whimpered. “Yep, definitely going to die,” I heaved as a faint wave of nausea hit me. Now, however, it was due to the up and down movement on the stationary bikes.

“Gears up!,” yelled Anton, the hottest and meanest spin instructor in all of Montgomery, and, maybe, the world. “Up! Higher! You can do it! Think of those legs! Think of those buns! If you can’t think of your own, look at the person in front of you. Their buns look better than yours! Do you want that? Nooooooo! You want hot buns! You need hot buns! And rise!”

Lily and I joined the rest of the class by pushing the gear up one notch, perching in our stirrups, and pedaling for all our fabulous legs were worth. I took a look around the twenty-strong class, stationed in three rows and facing a wall of mirrors that just misted ten minutes ago. Every single person was red-faced and drenched in sweat, their thighs straining as they hill-climbed their way to stronger lungs and tighter buns. To the front of me, an overweight white guy was bobbing in his saddle, with his huge butt in my face, and a lap pool of sweat surrounding his bike. Anton was wrong. I sure didn’t want to look like that guy’s butt, but kudos to him for trying to work his way towards a better one.

I looked from him to Lily, and her eyes dropped down as she stifled a giggle. I turned back to the butt, recoiling as the man swung his wet head, sending errant sweat droplets flying toward me.

“Do. Not. Sit. Down. Lexi. Graves!” screamed Anton. “Gears up! Uuuuuup!”

That’s me. Lexi Graves. I’m not a gym bunny, not one bit, but I do have a rolling monthly membership to Fairmount Gym. Usually, I only attend the gym when Lily insists, a couple of times a week, or when I catch a less than flattering glance of myself in the mirror; but sometimes, I take an extra class when work is light. I’m a private investigator so that happens from time to time after I’ve closed a case and am waiting for a new one, like now. Since I just became a homeowner of the cutest buttercup yellow bungalow, a few days of downtime suits me fine, especially as I had a few boxes left to unpack. That task was finished last night, and I awoke with a newfound resolve to attend the gym. However, it was waning fast.

“I hate him,” I whispered to Lily.

“Think of your jeans,” Lily heaved. “Think of Solomon checking out your butt. Think of that dress you ate too much pizza to wear.”

I thought of both, especially since I planned to wear “that dress” for Solomon, my boss slash boyfriend very soon. I didn’t mean to multitask the main man in my life, but it turned out that way, and I was happy for it. He was a good boss and an excellent boyfriend. Once, he pretended to be my fake husband and was damn good at that too. “So now it’s my fault you’re a feeder?” I shot back.

“I don’t think you reaching for the last two slices qualifies me as a feeder.” Lily reached for her water bottle with a shaky hand and squirted liquid in her face. “Shoot. Missed.” She tried again, this time firing the stream of water into her mouth.

“I… have… two… hands,” I heaved. “One for each slice!”

“That’s not an excuse and you know it.”

“I rarely indulge. I should do more. I’m gonna die.”

“You’re gonna be skinny and gorgeous. You’re gonna do this and you’re gonna do it hard,” Lily wheezed.

“That’s right, everybody, listen to Miss Lily Shuler. She says ‘You’re gonna do this and you’re gonna do it hard’,” yelled Anton. “Are you with me? Are. You. With. Meeeeee? Aaaaand… back in your saddles!”

A chorus of yeses echoed around the steam-filled studio, along with a few whimpers that could have been affirmations. With twenty minutes left on the clock, there wasn’t a whole lot of energy to go around, and most everyone looked like me, concentrating on getting through the next few minutes without wobbling off their stationary spin bikes, and collapsing onto the floor and crying. Not puking would be a bonus, although rumor had it Anton considered a vomiting episode as a personal best on a tough class.

I flipped the gears down two settings and continued to pump my thighs, hoping no one noticed.

“I saw that,” hissed Lily. “Cheat.”

“I need to walk the rest of the day, okay?” I hissed back. “And tomorrow too.”

“You don’t. You’ve been sitting on your butt, doing surveillance for two weeks.”

That was true, and partly why I upped my gym hours because I really needed to compensate for all that sitting around. “I still need to hit the car brakes,” I said, rising when Anton yelled again. “I need for my legs to work. Plus my surveillance job is done.”

Lily stood a little taller in the stirrups and grinned. “I could drive for you. Let’s be surveillance buddies.”

“Yeah, that always works out so well,” I replied. I was thinking about corpses, and suspected serial killers, along with the other things we discovered whenever she joined me on a stakeout. Not that she was a magnet for those sorts of things, but she didn’t exactly deter them either. At least, I got paid for that kind of crap.

Lily was about to answer when one of the men in the front row wobbled off his bike and lurched forwards. The class would have inhaled a collective gasp, but no one had any breath to spare. All the same, several pairs of eyes followed the lurching body. If there was one thing Anton hated, it was a flake-out in his classes, and he had been known to ream people out. Anton was about to do his thing when the man took another wobbly step forward before sinking to his knees, both his arms limp at his sides. Blood seemed to drain from his face, giving his sweaty, red visage a ghostly pallor. He tipped his head upwards, his jaw dropping open and rasped out a breath.

Anton stepped towards him, reached one hand to his shoulder. “Are you…? Oh shit!” The man keeled forwards, his face hitting the studio floor with a dull thud. Instead of his eyes rolling back in a faint, they stared glassily ahead.

One by one, the class slowed down their bikes, gradually coming to a stop as the music thumped around us from the overhead speakers. They abruptly cut out as Anton pressed a button on his remote control. We all leaned forwards on our handlebars as Anton reached for the man’s wrist, his fingers checking for a pulse. After what felt like forever, with my heart thumping in my chest from exertion and waiting, Anton looked up and around. “He’s dead,” he said softly, almost inaudibly. Even without a word, his frightened eyes said it all. “He’s dead.”

“Oh my God, you killed him!” screamed a woman at the back. Our attention turned to her as she scrambled from her saddle and weaved through the bikes, her bag and towel bumping everyone in her path. “I am never spinning again!” she screamed, whirling around and banging out the double doors backwards.

“He’s dead?” The big man in front of us turned to the man to his left, then to the woman at his right. “He’s really dead? Oh my, I think I’m gonna…” And he did. He fainted. But as he fell, he leaned to his left and hit the handlebars of the next bike, toppling it before its rider could jump clear. That bike hit another, and that one hit another, as they all went down like dominoes. The last person had the good sense to jump off her bike when the others thumped to the floor, and dash towards the front of the room. She watched, with astonishment the crash of tangled limbs and bikes, their wheels still spinning.

“Let’s always sit at the back,” whispered Lily.

“He’s dead,” said Anton again, waving the remote. In the far left corner, someone began to cry. “I killed him! I killed a man!”

“Should we help?” asked Lily, sliding off her bike, addressing no one in particular.

“Can you get him off me?” squeaked the man under the big man who fainted. He was skinny and wore a sweatband around his head. “I can’t breathe.”

“I don’t think so,” said Lily, assessing the situation. “He’s pretty big. Lexi, can we roll him together?”

“Yes, do that,” said the man. “I can’t feel my legs. Hurry, please.”

“Just a moment,” I said, holding a finger up to him, asking for patience. Grabbing my cell phone from the bike’s tray, I hit “speed dial.”

“Do you have to make a call right now?” wheezed the man. “Can’t it wait until after…” He flapped a hand at the fainter. Behind Skinny Headband, several moans emerged from the other trapped spinners.

“If you can still talk, you’re okay for another minute,” I told him. Then the phone stopped ringing and my savior answered. “So, funny thing,” I said. “I’m in my spin class, and a guy just died, and then this big guy knocked over all the bikes and now half the class is crushed. Can you send a couple of officers and maybe an ambulance?”

At the other end of the line, Maddox sighed. “How do these things always seem to happen to you?”

Adam Maddox was a detective with the Montgomery police department and knew better than to ask dumbass questions like that. I could have called a bazillion other police officers, but since I was related to a large portion of them, I thought calling my ex-boyfriend seemed like a better idea. He wouldn’t bring this up at every family dinner forever after.