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Beautiful Imperfection

By Kathryn J. Bain

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Chapter 1
“I can’t believe you set me up. Why didn’t you tell me?” Teddy Federline knew she should have stayed home. She was in no way ready for this.
She adjusted her right bra strap in Club Jetty’s bathroom mirror and drew in a deep breath. The lights were bright, showing every pore in her face. Hyacinth cascaded over her from a woman who sprayed perfume as they entered the room moments earlier. Chill bumps formed on Teddy from the vent blowing cool air overhead. She rubbed her arms up and down. Why couldn’t the restaurant have the heat on? You’d almost think it summer instead of February.
Teddy dipped her finger in the concealer before applying it to the dark circles under her eyes. A loose strand of hair bounced over her cheek when she looked into the makeup bag. This new hairstyle reached her chin, enabling her to curl it back behind her ear. Not even a year ago her hair fell to the middle of her back. She hated it short and curly but at least it was her own.
“You’ve made too many excuses the past couple of weeks for me to chance it.” Claire Hoover, Teddy’s best friend, applied a fresh coat of lipstick. “Besides after what Jim did to you, you need to find a decent guy.”
A pang darted into her heart from the cruel words her former boyfriend had left her with. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he said before he marched out of the restaurant, leaving her to pay the bill. Yeah, like she’d signed up for cancer. Who wouldn’t? What a jerk.
Claire said something bringing Teddy back to the present. “Well? What do you think? Steve looks like a decent guy.”
“How can you be sure he’s decent when all you’ve noticed are his muscles?” Teddy sighed. From the way Steve spoke, he didn’t fit the good Christian man she’d dreamt of. “Saying I had to be a ten. Come on. He sounds like he’s part Neanderthal.” She looked pale, not sure whether it was from the overhead lights or her illness. During the chemotherapy she lost eight pounds. Now due to her medication, she’d gained it back and more.
Claire took her hand. “I know you’re having a rough time, but I thought it’d make you feel better. ‘Cuz nothing beats the blues more than someone cute giving you attention.” Claire grinned as she released Teddy’s hand and turned back to the mirror for one last look.
“I’ll endure. I just wish Steve wouldn’t smile so much. The glare’s about to blind me.” Teddy laughed.
“It is a bit much, isn’t it?” Claire nudged Teddy with her hip as they walked out of the bathroom. “Can you say whitening treatments?”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Teddy jumped at the loud popping sounds. A woman screamed. Then instant silence. Teddy pulled Claire down to a crouch by the side of the bar.
“Sit down.” A man’s deep voice commanded on the other side of the divider. “No one’s going anywhere until the fun’s all over.”
Except for hushed sobs and music drifting in from the club portion of the business, the restaurant was quiet.
“What’s going on?” Claire whispered.
Teddy shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Her heart slammed against her ribcage. She peeked around the corner. A figure dressed in black pointed a handgun at the woman who wore the hyacinth perfume. She sat motionless in a chair.
“Please. I have a family,” the woman whimpered.
An evil grin fell over the man’s face. A shudder rose up Teddy’s back as the man placed the muzzle of the gun against the woman’s forehead.
The lady cringed and closed her eyes.
“Sure hope you have your insurance paid up.” He squeezed the trigger. The woman’s body slammed backward.
Teddy crawled back behind the partition. Her body shook at the wickedness of this man’s actions. Claire’s hand quivered as it rose to her mouth.
Teddy scooted around the corner again. The shooter’s back was to her. She jerked up to see their table. Steve’s head leaned back and his arms dangled at his sides. The other two men they were seated with slumped forward. Terror rushed over her as she glanced around. Where was Linda? Teddy’s eye caught sight of her friend as she cowered at a stool near one of the tables by the salad bar. Linda’s stare fixated on her husband, one of the men at the table.
Teddy’s pulse raced in her ears as she hid behind the bar. She had to find a means of escape. The killer stood between them and the front door. The hallway led to the bathrooms then a dead end. Determination rose in Teddy. God didn’t bring her through cancer to die by some jerk with a gun.
“Here,” Teddy’s stomach trembled. She grabbed the cell phone from her purse. “Get back in the restroom and call the police.”
“What are you planning to do?” Claire’s voice trembled.
“I don’t know. But you go, and if there’s a window, climb out.” Teddy gave Claire’s hand a squeeze as tears welled in her friend’s eyes. “I’ll be all right.”
Claire nodded and crept to the bathroom.
Teddy raised her eyes to the ceiling and whispered, “Please God, get us through this.”
The gunman sneered at a pregnant waitress Teddy met when she first walked into the restaurant. Her name tag read Brenda. She sobbed as he leveled his weapon.
Bang!
Teddy scooted back behind the bar. She wiped her sweaty palms against her jeans. When did she get to be so brave? Maybe she should follow Claire’s lead. She sucked in a breath before glancing over her shoulder. Claire was out of sight.
“Who’s next?” The man laughed. “Maybe you. Or you.”
Teddy knew she had to do something. She eased back around the corner of the bar. A young man with a crew cut caught her attention. The gunman paced a few feet in front of him. The young man gave a nod which Teddy returned. An ally.
A large silver tray which usually held glasses sat on the ledge above Teddy’s head. She lifted it, making sure to not scoot it across the counter. The gunman walked toward Linda, still hidden behind the stool. He kicked the seat out from under her grasp. Linda toppled to her knees, her face wet with tears.
Teddy said another quick prayer then stood upright.
“Hey, you,” she yelled and flung the tray as hard as she could. It smacked the executioner in the back. The blow jolted him. He jerked around. His dark eyes showed no hint of a soul as he raised the gun towards Teddy.
The short-haired man rushed forward and rammed the shooter into a tall wooden table. The gun slid across the floor. The gunman’s head hit the edge so hard he lost consciousness. The young man stood at full soldier’s stance with one foot on the killer’s back. He gave Teddy a glance and again nodded.
The front door jerked open and two police officers rushed in, guns drawn.
***
The house remained quiet. Taber Hainsworth gazed at his reflection in the large mirror that hung on the wall. Bloodshot green eyes stared back at him. He ran a trembling hand through his mussed hair. In his other, he held a glass of scotch. The bottle on the counter sat half empty. Before the night ended, it’d be gone.
The staff had left for the day. The only sound was the second hand of the clock. Tick, tick. He’d never noticed its loud noise before now. His heart beat with the rhythm. Tick, tick.
How could he have let it go this far? In just a few short moments two murders would occur.
If everything worked out according to plan, Sprague would be out of the country by midnight. Tab would move the rest of the funds into a Cayman’s bank account in the morning. Not paying wasn’t an option. He didn’t know Sprague personally, but anyone crazy enough to shoot a pregnant woman would come back and make Tab pay for screwing him over.
When talk of murder first came up in conversation between his father-in-law and campaign manager, he thought they were joking. But the more they discussed it, the more he realized they were serious. Killing for a political career. It seemed surreal, like a movie played out in slow motion. Tick, tick.
A former astronaut, Tab had once held life by the horns. Why did Brenda have to go and get herself knocked up?
“Too bad you didn’t know who the power was in this election,” Tab spoke to the mirror as he poured more liquid into his glass.
A drunken grin ran across his face as he recalled the popularity, the wealth, even the beautiful mistress on the side. She thought getting pregnant would cause him to leave his wife, but no way. Not when Paige had all that money.
“I wish you all had left me out of it.” His vision blurred. He tossed back the remainder of his glass. The liquor no longer burned his throat, now numb to it, to the whole situation.
“Here’s to you, you scared fool.” He raised the empty glass and toasted his reflection. A pathetic frown covered his face as he looked at himself.
He glanced at the clock. Tick, tick. Time mocked him as it drew close to T minus zero hour, as his friends at Kennedy Space Center might say. The hour hand pointed to the center between ten and eleven. The minute hand hit the eight. It should be about over now. Tension released his shoulders from its embrace. He punched the button on the remote control to turn on the local news. Tab swallowed hard not convinced the bile in his gut came from too much alcohol and not the person he’d become.
***
Sloan Michaels gave a sideways glance to Raven Templeton as she picked up the phone. It had been a quiet evening. A bit unusual for a city where at least one shooting a night was the norm. His partner nodded as if the party on the other end of the line could see.
“We’ve got a shooting at Club Jetty.” Raven hung up the phone. “Several casualties.” She tugged her jacket on over her beige blouse. “I guess we’ve got a mass murder on our hands.”
“Could be some guy after his girlfriend who hit a few others on the way.” Sloan rose from his seat.
“Most would do the girl then themselves. More than likely a psychopath who enjoys killing.”
“More of your Freud stuff?” Sloan couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling.
“No, just common sense. Apparently the only reason he quit was because someone stopped him.”
Sloan thrust on his tan coat and grabbed his Glock from the drawer. He checked the magazine of his gun before shoving it into the holster attached to his belt. Any cop who wasn’t prepared when the time came would either be dead or ripped apart in front of their colleagues by Sergeant Daniels. And the sergeant could rival a pit bull when it came to tearing into people.
In the standard issue black shoes, Raven stood only at his shoulders. She had said on more than one occasion she wished she could wear her high heels if for nothing else, to be able to see over the top of the desk.
Jacksonville’s cool February wind slapped at Sloan as he stepped outside. The bitter aroma of the paper mill on the Northside drifted into his sinuses. Sirens blared in the nearby distance. Club Jetty was just two blocks down. No point in driving. Between the emergency units and news people, parking would be impossible.
The Medical Examiner’s van pulled alongside as they arrived. A thin brunette sobbed as she watched paramedics lift a gurney into a nearby ambulance. Next to her two other women consoled her. One blonde, the other a redhead. A lump rose in Sloan’s throat. Even with short, curly hair, he’d know her anywhere. Teddy Federline. Those green eyes used to stare up at him with complete amazement at almost every word he spoke. At least that’s how he remembered it.
The memory of their last meeting crashed over him. After what he’d done to her, he would be the last person she’d want to see. Besides, a woman as kind and pretty as Teddy would have a husband who’d give her the comfort she needed. Sloan inhaled a deep breath. That man might have been him if he hadn’t been so weak all those years ago. He took one last look at her before turning and heading to the officer in charge of the scene.

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