Novels by Katherine Cobi

I met Nick at, no, no I didn't meet Nick; he met me. Nick met me at my last job; I was a waiter at a restaurant.He waited for me one evening outside the restaurant till my shift was over. It was kind of weird. I thought he was a tourist because he dressed like he was on vacation, but he wasn't. He stopped me on my way home and offered me a job. He told me I had good looks that ladies would love and I could make good money, but he didn't tell me what the job was, but I was already interested.He handed me his business card and left in a black Audi A4, and I was sold. I was tired of my shitty job with shitty pay and shit customers. The next day I went to the address on the card; it was a club. The Red Room. It was during the day, so the club wasn't active, but it looked nice and fancy.I asked one of the bartenders for Nick, and they pointed to this office at the far end of a hallway.He was inside smoking a cigar when I opened the door. He told me what the job was, and I was skeptic

The Century Hotel I type into the search bar; it's not too far from my apartment, so I take Michael's car while he's out running some errands.It takes me about twenty minutes to get there with the traffic and all. It's not a big hotel, but it has this homely vibe.I understand why Cassidy would come here; it's so nice and sophisticated, just like she was.I enter the hotel lobby and head straight to the reception desk. A lady with ginger-coloured hair and glasses is seated at the reception desk. She is attending to guests, so I wait my turn. She's wearing a white shirt with Gwen embroidered into it, so I'm guessing that's her name.“Good morning Gwen, I was wondering if I could take a look at your guest book." I begin, going straight to the point.She looks at me, raising a brow. “Are you a guest here?”“No, I'm not,” I reply.“Are you with the police or something?” she questioned "No, I'm not, but...” She doesn't let me finish, she cuts me off mid-sentence.“I'm sorry, then I c

I knocked on the door and waited a while, then I knocked again.“I'm coming, hold on.” She opens the door, her face screwed up. I've been here about three or four times I can't remember. Before Cassidy and I started staying at hotels, she and I used to come here. She always loved Jeanine’s apartment, which was so luxurious, she always said."Oh!” she exclaimed.She's dressed in a short denim dress, and a charming brown coat, and her long brown hair is free. She’s not wearing any shoes. I can't tell if she's on her way out or she just came back."Manuel, come in," she cheered.Taking a step back to make room for me to enter"Oh, darling, I heard what happened. I'm so sorry.”She hugs me, but I don't hug her back, my hands still in my pocket. I wonder if the apology is for the death of Cassidy or the fact I'm being charged with her murder."Thanks, Jeannie, but I have a few questions to ask.”She looks at me with a glazed look before she rolls her eyes."Fine, you have 10 minutes. I h

Jeanine was Cassidy's close friend; they went everywhere together. She'd even followed us out to dinner. Sometimes I wondered who was the third wheel.“Jeanine was Cassidy's friend. I'm sure you know her,” he sniffled."Yes, I know her,” I shifted in my seat.“I think she met her 2 or 3 years ago; I don't remember. It was good she had a new friend. Friend. They were always out and about.”“Always out,” he said bitterly.I just sat there listening. You could see the grief in his eyes and hear the pain in his voice.“Cassidy started spending so much money, but it wasn't a problem. I had enough money for both of us, and I didn't want to ask her questions.”“Always buying clothes, flying out to Paris, Spain, or BoraBora, Mexico; it was one place or the other, but she always came back home to me, her husband, her best friend,” he paused.“Until she met you,” the color drained out of my face as he said that.“I don't know how she met you or why, but she started going out Wednesday and Satur

The media camped outside my building keeps getting worse every day but I can't just sit inside and do nothing.So our motion to dismiss was denied, so now it's becoming quite clear I can go to prison for this crime even though I didn't do it.I'm going to go see Cassidy's husband to see if he can tell me anything about Cassidy.I check my phone for any new messages before I put on my shades and make my way to the train station.I remember Cassidy showing me pictures of her house, but she told me I could never show up at her house, but I'm here and I need answers.It's a pretty big house that gives off a modern, chic vibe. It's probably Cassidy who decorated it. I press the doorbell, and after what seems like a minute.A middle-aged woman dressed in a maid's uniform comes to open the door. I take off my glasses, giving her a small smile, and she returns it.“I'm looking for Daniel. Is he in?” I asked her “Mr.Jones isn't receiving visitors at the moment, but I'll let him know that you

I get home just as Michael starts making dinner. I ask him about his day.Michael is a bartender at one of those overpriced rich people clubs in Manhattan. We have been friends ever since I met him at a bus stop and asked for directions.He asks me about the meeting with Jill while we eat, and I tell him everything she told me. “Damn man, that's a lot. But if you do go to prison, I'll visit you,” he laughs dryly. I turn my face away. “Too soon? Sorry man, I was just joking.”“You want to play a match; take your mind off things; it'll be fun,” he encouraged. And we played games on the PlayStation until my fingers hurt.Jill calls me the next morning to meet her at her office, and when I leave the house, I find out the media is camped outside my apartment building, so I walk very fast, and luckily they don't see me. I wonder how they found out where I live.“Good morning,” she greeted I take a seat in the same spot I sat the last time I came and stare at my feet.“So the prosecutio