The Forgotten Nexus (Afterlife Book 1) Read online

  To make it worse, the door to the bar swung open and her boss walked inside.

  "Great," she whispered.

  Ruby stepped up to Harper. "Let's just leave out the incident about Pete getting kicked out and breaking the glass."

  Harper looked at her boss for a long moment. He was tall, handsome, and wealthy. This didn't make up for his annoying habit of treating his female bartenders like they were working on a strip pole.

  "Yeah," she agreed. "The last thing I need is a lecture from him. Like I could have done anything to stop Pete. You know how he gets."

  Ruby nodded. "There was nothing either of us could have done to stop him. Once he gets in that mood, he's like a stick of dynamite ready to blast off at the simplest spark. At least the guy at the bar was there to stop him before things got really out of hand."

  "Yeah," Harper said. "Good thing."

  Her boss, Mr. Crowley, stepped up to the bar. "Harper, we need to speak."

  Ruby gave her a commiserating look and went to refill drinks. Harper shrugged and followed Mr. Crowley to the back room. "What is it?"

  "I just saw a woman outside," he said. "She claims you stole a priceless family necklace that she showed you."

  "What?"

  "I know you, Harper. I don't see you as a thief."

  Harper frowned. "Was she short? With long brown hair?"

  Mr. Crowley nodded.

  "She was just in here," Harper said. "She threatened me. This must be what she meant when she said we'd have to do things the hard way..."

  "I don't know about all that," Mr. Crowley said. "But the truth is, I trust you, Harper. You've worked with me for over a year, and you're one of the best bartenders I've ever hired. I told her you had nothing to do with it, and to leave you alone -- I even threatened to help you get a restraining order."

  "Thank you," Harper said, breathing a sigh of relief.

  "However," Mr. Crowley said, "just for the sake of following up on complaints, I'd like you to turn out your pockets."

  Harper frowned. "You just said that you trust me."

  Mr. Crowley shrugged. "I do. But everyone, even someone like you, can turn trust into a weapon. Empty your pockets."

  Even before she put her hand in her pocket, Harper knew she was going to find the necklace. She had no idea how it could have gotten there, but when her fingers wrapped around the small chain, it wasn't surprise she felt, but deeply rooted resignation.

  "I didn't take it," she said, holding out the necklace. "I can't explain this, Mr. Crowley, but I didn't take this necklace."

  For a moment, Mr. Crowley said nothing. Then, with a tilt of his head, he said, "I'm sorry, Harper. I'm going to have to let you go."

  "What?"

  "You're fired," he said.

  "You know I didn't take the necklace!" Harper said. "You have to know that!"

  "It doesn't matter if I believe you," Mr. Crowley said. "The evidence is right here. Hand it over."

  Harper snapped her hand closed around the necklace and shoved it in her pocket. "If I'm getting fired for this, I'm not leaving it behind."

  Mr. Crowley didn't argue. "You can go home now. I told her that if you had it, I'd fire you, but she said not to call the police. So you're in luck with that much."

  "She planned it," Harper said. "She wanted me to come work at her stupid nightclub. Look, I even have the card."

  She fished it out of her pocket and held it out. "See, it's for the Afterlife. She wanted to know if I'd seen anyone hanging around that looked suspicious, then practically demanded that I come to her club, and now..."

  "She framed you in order to get you fired so you'd have no choice but to come work for her?" Mr. Crowley asked.

  "Yes!"

  "Harper, do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

  Harper's shoulders slumped. "Yes, I do."

  "And you realize I have no choice but to let you go?"

  Harper thought about arguing that point, but in the end, she just nodded. "I understand."

  "Good," Mr. Crowley said. He stepped closer to her, close enough that she could smell his breath. It smelled stale, like old cigarettes and beer. She tried to step away but he followed her. "Now that you're no longer my employee..."

  "Mr. Crowley..."

  "You can call me Dan."

  "Dan, I don't know what you're thinking, but--"

  He silenced her with a kiss. For a moment, she was so surprised that she didn't react. Then she realized exactly what was going on, and she shoved him backwards.

  "That was extremely inappropriate!" she barked at him.

  "I just thought that since you don't work for me anymore, you might like to be a little more than friends," Mr. Crowley said. "You're an attractive woman, and I'm an attractive man. We can have a lot of fun together. Nobody needs to know. It can stay between the two of us."

  Harper pushed past him and could almost feel his eyes on her backside. She felt a wave of disgust sweep over her, and she wiped at her mouth. She saw Ruby approaching her on the way out. They weren't the best of friends, but they'd worked together for the last year.

  "Where are you going?" Ruby asked.

  "I got fired," Harper said. She would have said more, but Scotch, Neat was watching her and that was the final straw. She couldn't deal with anything else after the scene with Dan. "I'm going home, Ruby. Good luck with this lot."

  On her way out, she let her door slam behind her.

  TWO

  As Harper drove home that night, she was still annoyed, but some of her anger had started to dissipate. She didn't know why Chloe would want to frame her for stealing the necklace. As absurd as it seemed, the only reason would be to get her to work at her night club. But she didn't necessarily care about the other woman's motives.

  She'd told Chloe she liked her job, but that had been a flat out lie. She hated working the night shift, she disliked the unruly patrons, and detested Mr. Crowley. Dan. For a moment, she was glad she wasn't working there anymore, but she would never have quit on her own. She needed the money too badly, but this gave her a ready-made excuse to find a new job.

  She parked her car, hopped out, locked it, and headed into her apartment. She was on the second floor, and she tried to walk quietly up the stairs so as not to annoy her neighbors. They had complained more than once about her coming home late and making too much noise on the way inside. Well, they should be happy now; losing her job meant that she wouldn't be coming home in the middle of the night anymore.

  Harper flopped down on her couch and considered the negatives. She had no money. She was almost out of food. She was a few weeks away from eviction. Sure, she could ask her parents for money, but she was twenty-four years old and should be able to handle her bills by herself.

  She'd have to find a new job. Just not Afterlife. That was out of the question. Just the thought of it made her grit her teeth in annoyance. Get cleaned up and go for drinks at the establishment of the woman who'd gotten her fired? Not a chance.

  Harper got up and went to the fridge. She stared at the bare shelves. There was some left over pizza in a box shoved on the bottom shelf, some pudding cups in the door, and half of a deli sandwich on the top shelf. There were three cans of ginger ale sitting next to the pizza. She grabbed the sandwich, one of the cans, and returned to her couch.

  Her apartment was small, but she liked it. It was the first place that was truly all hers. She paid for it on her own, without her parent's help. She had worried that she offended her parents when she'd turned down their offer to pay the security deposit, but she needed to do it herself.

  Harper decorated it with posters of her favorite things and odd ends she'd found at yard sales. She had a stop sign on one wall next to a poster of Dracula. On the other wall, she had a children crossing sign and a bunch of license plates. There was also a large painting of a squid hanging up, several collages, and a black and white portrait of her with her parents. It was odd, certainly eccentric, but there was a certain methodology to the mad
ness.

  She took a few bites of her sandwich and then decided she wasn't hungry after all. She popped open her ginger ale and chugged it. She crushed the can and tossed it at her little coffee table. It hit the corner and bounced off. She glared at the can for a moment, but went to pick it up. She stuck her sandwich back in the fridge and threw the can into the garbage.

  Once this was done, she went to take a shower. She carefully unwrapped her arm and winced at the sight of the cut. It was fairly shallow but it was long and it stung. She carefully dabbed at it with a wash cloth, then undressed and got in the shower. The hot water helped clear her mind and she could feel her tension draining away.

  Harper thought of Chloe while she showered. She was annoyed at the woman but why had she been there? What had she wanted? Had she really been looking out for Harper? Was she really in some sort of danger? And who was Alec, and why had he been watching her? And for how long? The thought was enough to make her want to hop out and go lock her door. She resisted the urge, telling herself that she was being silly.

  She took an extra-long shower, turning these thoughts around and around and around in her head while she washed and conditioned her hair, and enjoyed the rain of the extra large shower head she'd splurged on a few months back.

  When she was done, she put on her green bathrobe and wrapped a towel around her hair. She padded barefoot back to her kitchen and grabbed another ginger ale. She stretched out on the couch and flipped on the television. She browsed through the channels, not really sure what she wanted to watch. She stopped on an infomercial and watched it for a few minutes before changing the channel to some sort of game show. It looked ridiculous though; there were eight women all competing to earn the heart of one man.

  Harper rolled her eyes. The man wasn't even that attractive. He was tall with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. She'd never been a huge fan of blond hair. Perhaps that's why she didn't care all that much for her own appearance. Perhaps she'd dye her hair before getting a new job... but where would she work?

  All she really knew was bartending. She'd worked for a fast food chain for a little while and hadn't enjoyed it very much. Maybe she could go back to school. She could get a degree in... well, she didn't know. She didn't particularly like business and she wasn't very artistic, unless you counted her odd taste in house furnishings. Maybe she could be a doctor; that thought made her laugh. She hated blood. Her parents would like it, though.

  She changed the channel again and blinked. Was that Patrick's on the news? She sat up, watching the screen curiously. It was broadcasted live. The reporter was a pretty brunette woman with a pair of chic glasses. She was dressed immaculately, sporting a button up blouse and a pair of creme trousers. Why was she so well dressed considering the hour? Then again, they were in Vegas.

  "Breaking news," the reporter said. "This is Alicia Sterling, here at Patrick's Pub, and let me tell you folks, we have an odd situation. I can hardly believe it myself, but it looks as though the two men in charge of the animal exhibit at Starlight Casino were sleeping on the job! Two tigers have escaped their pens and they're running wild. That's not even the strangest part, though -- the strangest part is where they're headed! Both of the tigers have ran right into Patrick's!"

  Harper tuned the woman out, watching the tigers. There were men surrounding them, some with prods, some with rifles, some with tranquilizing guns. There were too many people near them to shoot, though, and the police were trying to usher people away. She saw Ruby come outside, and then watched as Mr. Crowley pushed past her, nearly knocking her down. Harper was almost disappointed not to be there.

  Then she saw Scotch, Neat. She sat up, her eyes widening. He walked casually, in no great hurry despite the police officers trying to get everyone to hurry away from the scene so they could take care of the animals. He turned his face right toward one of the cameras and smiled. She knew it was ridiculous but for some reason, it seemed as though he was grinning right at her.

  Disturbed, she turned off her television, her heart beating a little too fast. Why would he be smiling at her? How would he even know she was watching it? And what was with those tigers? He hadn't been scared at all.

  She shook her head, reminding herself that they were exhibit tigers, not wild ones from the jungle. He wasn't scared because they were domesticated. They weren't truly a danger.

  Harper got up and went back to the kitchen. She heated up a piece of pizza while considering all of this. She dug her phone out while she waited for the microwave to ding. She saw four text messages and a missed call. One of the texts was from Ruby, telling her that if she wanted to file a claim for unlawful firing, she would back her up. The next two were from her best friend, Brittney Conley, telling her to call her immediately. ASAP.

  The last one was from a number she didn't recognize. It was a picture of the outside of a building. She zoomed in and saw it was Afterlife. The message below the picture said: Seriously. Come in.

  Upset, she deleted the message. Right away, she regretted it. She should have kept it so she had a record of the number. What if she wanted to take it to the police? She couldn't help but smile a little at that thought. "There was a girl, officer, and she offered me a job. I want to press charges."

  She clicked on her voicemail and held the phone to her ear. Immediately Brittney's voice came on the phone.

  "Hey girl! Don't you ever check your phone? I know you're working but I just have to tell you about this guy I met. He's super cute. I mean, a real hunk. Tall, broad shoulders, eyes you could just die for. He bought me a drink at this nightclub, Afterlife."

  Harper paused the message and wound it back a few seconds.

  "...bought me a drink at this nightclub, Afterlife... anyway, I was thinking you really need a new job. We never get to go out anywhere fun. You're working all the hot nights. It's not like your tips are that great anyway. You could probably get a job as a black jack dealer. Hey! We both could. I bet we'd get plenty of tips from high rollers. We're both super hot. Anyway, call me. We need to talk!"

  Harper sighed and tossed her phone on the couch. She wasn't in the mood to talk to Brittney. Besides, she was still a little shaken by that man on the television. And now Brittney was at a nightclub. A nightclub named Afterlife. Afterlife. Everything connected back to that.

  Well, except for Scotch, Neat. He had nothing to do with it. But she remembered the way he'd smiled at the camera.

  She let out a curse and went into her bedroom. She dropped her robe and towel on the floor and went to her closet to browse outfits. If she was going to the stupid nightclub, she needed to wear something nice. There was a dress code, after all.

  Harper stared at her clothing. None of it was really something you wore to a nightclub. She'd never been much of a partier and the vast majority of her clothing was simple: jeans, t-shirts, and some nicer blouses. In the back of her closet, she found a black pencil skirt and she slipped it on. It was a little loose and she remembered that she'd lost some weight since she'd last worn it.

  "Oh, well," she said out loud. "It'll have to do."

  She grabbed a few shirts and went over to her floor mirror, holding each one one up to her chest to see how it would look with the skirt. Finally she settled on a pastel blue shirt with long lace sleeves and tiny buttons up the front.

  She did her hair and makeup next, though she wasn't sure why she was going through all the effort. She wasn't going to the club so she could dance or party. She was going there to find Chloe and demand answers. She considered calling Brittney and getting some backup but decided not to. She loved her to death, and they'd been friends since the second grade, but sometimes Brittney could be a little too much. She loved partying and drinking and hooking up with whatever guy caught her eye.

  Harper rolled her eyes, thinking of Brittney's voicemail. She slipped on a pair of flats. Then she remembered something her mother had once told her. The shoes made the outfit. She kicked her flats back off, tossed them in a corner, and looked in her closet
for her pair of black heels. They'd been a gift from her mother when she'd first moved into her apartment. A house-warming gift of sorts. They matched the skirt perfectly.

  She studied herself in the mirror again. It wasn't going to get any better than this. She had a decent figure, though her chest was a little small and her hips were just a shade too narrow. She grabbed her purse and jacket, and headed for the door. Then she remembered her phone and doubled back to get it. As she was sliding it into her purse, there was a knock on her door.

  Harper immediately stiffened, feeling a wave of fear wash over her. She almost ran into her room and locked the door. Then she shook her head and walked up to the door. She put her eye up to the peephole and saw her neighbor standing there, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

  He was an older gentleman, at least sixty-five, with salt and pepper hair and a bushy mustache. Harper got along with him and his wife well enough; they'd never called and complained about the noise she made coming home like some of the other neighbors.

  "Mr. Johnson," she said, opening the door. "How can I help you?"

  "Well," Mr. Johnson said, "I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I just had the strangest visitor. He was looking for you. The thing is, he seemed a little suspicious so I told him you had moved out a few weeks ago. He left looking rather upset. I thought I'd let you know in case it's someone you were expecting."

  Harper shook her head. "I'm not expecting anyone. What did he look like?"

  "He was tall, very neat looking, with a mustache. He was an older gentleman, very professional, but I didn't trust his eyes. You can tell a lot about a man by his eyes, and his were cold."

  "Was he wearing a suit?"

  "Yes," Mr. Johnson said, "I believe he was. Pinstripe."

  "Thank you," Harper said.

  "Do you know him?"

  "Sort of," Harper said. She didn't want to get into it, so she forced a smile to her face. "Not really all that well. If he stops by again, please call me. You did the right thing telling him I had moved. I appreciate it."