Free The Grey Tier by Unknown Page B

about you, I was like, what?!” She took another bite out of her meal, peering at me closely. “You know the paparazzi will likely have a field day with this.”
    “I’m sorry.” And I was. I knew she hated unwanted attention.
    She shrugged. “I can handle those jack-asses.”
    For a moment she actually seemed . . . normal.
    “So someone killed that guy? Nick?”
    I closed my eyes, wishing I could forget the entire first half of the day. “Yes.”
    “That is super crazy. And you found him?”
    “I did.”
    “God! What did he look like?”
    I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Lots of blood and he was . . . he was dead.”
    She paused for a minute, staring down at her partially finished meal. “You know the house you live in? And my sister talking about how it’s haunted and all . . .”
    “Yes?” I asked, suddenly feeling very interested in where the conversation was going.
    “Oh, you know . . . Brenda is such a wuss. She says the place is haunted because of what happened there. That’s all. It’s not haunted, but some shit did go down there.” She shrugged.
    Great. The hair on my arms stood to attention for the umpteenth time today. “What do you mean ‘what happened there?’”
    “I will only tell you on one condition . . .” She leaned across her plate, lowering her voice.
    “What’s that?”
    “You gotta stay there. I promised Blake I had a responsible chick keeping an eye on the place.”
    “I’m not going anywhere, Simone.”
    “Jill!” She hissed, darting her eyes to the surrounding booths. “I am fucking Jill tonight!” That got a laugh out of me. “Oh, you know what I mean, Evie. Get your mind out of the gutter!”
    I smiled. “Anyway, about the house. What happened?”
    She sighed. “Back in the 90s, like ‘94 or something, someone was murdered there.”
    “What?!”
    She nodded. “Yeah, this dude who played in a grunge band. Blake was their producer. They were supposed to be the next Nirvana or Pearl Jam, you know. The guy was a huge talent. I was like, only eight, so I don’t know much, but anyway, he was the shit, I guess. And unlike Kurt Cobain, this guy was sexy hot. Then Blake had a party one night and a chick this singer-dude hooked up with went ballistic because he was hitting on some groupies. So she shot him right there, in front of everyone. Shot him dead!”
    “Oh, my God!”
    “Yeah. Anyway, sorry I didn’t tell you, but like I said before, I don’t believe in ghosts and all that shit.” She took another big bite of her food, “God, this is really good. I’m getting this again next week when we come back.”
    “What?”
    “Yeah, girlfriend. Standing date.”
    I shook my head. “Okay. Hey, what was the guy’s name? The one who was shot?”
    “Lucas Minx. Cool name, huh? Anyway, my sister thinks he haunts the place, but she’s got issues.” She brought her pointer finger to the side of her head and circled her fingers around her ear, making the crazy sign.
    “Right.” Apparently, so did I—have issues, that is.
    “Anyway, I am sorry about your friend. I know you liked that guy. We all need friends.” She looked down at her food.
    “Yes, we do.” Simone obviously needed a friend, and it appeared I was the chosen one.

Chapter Twelve
    A FEW DAYS AFTER Nick’s murder, the bar’s future was still up in the air. I had been kept busy with Simone, who had a flurry of promotional things going on, including being photographed for feature pieces in InStyle and Bazaar . She even fielded a few paparazzi questions regarding Nick’s murder, and I think someone snapped a photo of me in her Range Rover at one point. In any case, I began anticipating a story of some sort in The Enquirer , because what I discovered about Nick since his death was far juicier than I ever imagined.
    The night after the murder and the outing to Denny’s, I turned on the TV in the family room. I’d secretly been waiting for Lucas to show up again. After I got home the night