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Too Close to Home (The Forensic Files)

Page 15

by Tressa Messenger


  Chapter Twenty

  Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a month and all was steadily quiet in the county, other than a few petty drug busts and a burglary, leaving plenty of time for Carma to start to get over what happened and move on.

  She hadn’t seen Kristen around since Mike’s funeral, but she often wondered how she was holding up, even after Kristen and her douche bag boyfriend snubbed her at the funeral. She wasn’t surprised that Kristen blamed her for what happened. She was the one that arrested her father, after all. But shouldn’t Kristen be happy that she caught the man that killed her best friend?

  Who am I kidding? I’d be pissed, too, Carma thought.

  “Hey, Carma, it’s Friday. What are you up to this weekend?”

  Breaking her daydream, Carma looked up from her work to see Harold staring at her and smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Umm… yes, that’s why I asked. We have been partners for a while now and I’ve even seen you naked, yet we’ve never hung out outside of work before. What is it that you people even do around here anyway?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve been here all this time and you haven’t had the opportunity to enjoy a night out in the county?”

  “No, I always go to Greenville, sometimes New Bern.”

  “My poor, poor partner. I guess it is my duty to show you some of what this county does when the sun goes down.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep, but be warned. We may not be some big city with glamour and lights, but we do know how to have fun.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Harold said, smiling big.

  ***

  Harold walked into the Crooked Hook just after nine o’clock in the evening and spotted Carma at the bar. She smiled and waved when she saw him walk in.

  “George, this is my partner, Harold,” she said to the old bartender.

  “Hey, Harold! What can I get ya?” asked George.

  “I’ll take a Miller Light.” Turning to Carma, he said, “So this is where you go to cut loose?”

  “This is where everyone in the county goes to cut loose. There are a few other bars in the area, but this one is a local favorite.”

  “I can see that. It’s only nine and the place is already busy.”

  “That’s because we have something to celebrate,” George said, placing the frosty beer bottle in front of Harold.

  Carma rolled her eyes at him.

  “Oh yeah?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir! It’s our favorite detective’s birthday today. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that?”

  Surprised, Harold looked at Carma, but she only smiled. “It’s okay, George. We’ve only been partners for a little while and I kinda didn’t tell him.”

  “Well, I’ll be! You young ones are something else. When I was a cop, our partners knew everything about each other, right down to weekly Sunday dinners at each other’s homes.”

  Harold looked at Carma squarely. “You know what, George? I think you’re right. So, Miss Jones, spill it.”

  “Thanks, George,” Carma said. He smiled and walked away. “Come on. Let’s go sit in a booth where all the action is.”

  Harold followed her to a booth in the back on the opposite side of the room and sat down across from her and looked around the dark compact bar. He followed the sound of what some drunk people may call music being belched out from a tiny blonde girl on the karaoke stage close by them. He couldn’t contain his laughter and shook his head as he watched her perform her own rendition of a Dixie Chicks’ song. At the climax of the song, a few patrons shouted out in approval, causing Harold to jump up and laugh even harder.

  “What’s so amusing?”

  “I’ve never been in a bar like this before. And what is that smell?”

  Carma looked around sniffing the air and spotted the open back door. “That, my friend, is the smell of the best oysters around.”

  “Oysters?”

  “Yep, they catch them in the river and steam them out back,” she said, shifting her head toward the open back door.

  “Very interesting.” He turned and faced her. “So, what’s your story?”

  “There really isn’t much of one that I haven’t already told you. I was born and raised here, end of story.”

  “There’s more to any story than just that. Don’t you ever intend to leave?”

  “I told you before. I haven’t made up my mind yet. This place is home. It’s hard to imagine living anywhere else.”

  “Not even New Orleans?”

  She slouched her shoulders and took a swig of her beer. “We keep coming back to that, don’t we?”

  “But now you have one less thing holding you here.”

  Images of Mike’s smiling face from the night of their first date flashed in front of her eyes. He was never so real to her as he was that night and the smell of his skin, a salty, sweet masculine scent, was enough to make her senses sing, and when he was lying on top of her, his eyes bore in to her. The images flashed through her mind like a stormy sea, sending chills to run down her body. “I know.” She waved her hands around as if stirring the air to rid herself of the painful images. “Enough about me. How about you? What’s your story?”

  “Fine! As you know, I grew up in New York, in the Bronx. I was a cop with the NYPD for a long time before becoming a detective. My wife and I were finally talking about having kids, although I felt like I was too old by then. But when the detective job came up down here, it felt right, so I applied.”

  “I know you have made references to your wife once or twice, but I didn’t want to be nosy. What happened?”

  “Nah, we’re partners, remember? Right before we were supposed to leave, she decided she didn’t want to move or be a wife and mother.”

  “Dang! And that didn’t make you want to stay?”

  “Nope, I was ready to leave. I worked the beat in New York for too long. It’s a dangerous place. I wanted a calmer life.”

  “Well, you got it.”

  “See, now that is a story. So again, what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “I know you have your idea of Mr. Perfect even though the physical image has been crushed, but don’t you think you might want a family one day?”

  “There’s no such thing as perfect, and as far as a family, I don’t know. It’s not something I really thought about before. I like the way my life is now. Besides, when would I have time?”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Hey, you wanna play pool?” she asked when she saw a table clear, thankful for a change of subject.

  “Wow, I haven’t played pool in ages.”

  “I promise I won’t embarrass you too badly.”

  “Bring it on, but don’t think for a minute that just because it’s your birthday, I’m going to let you off easily.”

  “I’ve learned not to expect anything,” she said smiling.

  Carma walked to the wall by the pool tables to pick out the right stick when she noticed Kristen with a couple of friends gathered in the corner, most of them Carma met at Kristen’s house during the investigation.

  Carma took a deep breath and approached her. “Hey, Kristen. How’ve you been?” When Kristen turned around to face Carma, her face turned a funny shade of white mixed with a tinge of gray before turning rosy red, and she began to look around like she was paranoid.

  “Are you okay?” Carma asked.

  “Umm…yes.”

  “I’m so sorry about your dad. How have you been holding up?” Carma asked.

  “Fine, I guess,” Kristen said, staring at her feet.

  “Are you still planning on going away to New York for college this summer?”

  Kristen shrugged her shoulders. “I haven’t thought much about it. It wouldn’t be the same without Missy.”

  “I think it’d be good for you to get away and kind of start over.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Can we talk for a minute?” Car
ma asked.

  Kristen jerked her head up with a terrified expression and started to look around, paranoid again.

  “It’ll only take a minute,” Carma reassured her.

  “Oh, all right.” Kristen’s friends eyed her when she took a few steps away from the group, but they didn’t bother to interfere.

  “Are you staying with your Uncle Tom?”

  “Yes. How did you know that?”

  “We all grew up together. I know I haven’t been around much since you were born, but your parents and I used to be best friends. I knew your mom since we were children. I loved them both very much.”

  Kristen nodded.

  “I know your daddy loved you more than anything in this world. He was a good man.”

  Kristen jerked her head up with anger in her pretty brown eyes. “If he was such a good man, why did he do it?”

  Now Carma looked sad, too, again remembering the night she confronted him. She had asked herself the same question many times since then. “I really don’t know. I swear, I wish I did. I think he just got lonely and confused and once he was busted, he knew his life would be over. I think he thought at the time he was doing what he had to do. Survival of the fittest and all.”

  Just then, Rob bounced into the bar and rushed up to them when he saw the two girls huddled together and possessively wrapped a massive arm around Kristen. He bent down and kissed her forehead, never taking his cold blue eyes off Carma.

  “What’s going on?” he asked them.

  “Nothing, we were just talking,” Kristen spoke up.

  Ignoring him, Carma leaned in close and grabbed Kristen’s hand and put her card in it. “If you need anything at all, give me a call. I don’t care what time it is.”

  Kristen nodded her head and put the card in her pocket before returning to her friends.

  As Carma was walking away, she felt a strong hand grab her arm. She spun around and came face to face with Robert Lee’s sky-blue eyes.

  “I think you have done enough to Kristen! So how about you leave her alone!” he said through clenched teeth.

  Carma yanked her arm out of his grip and took a step in his direction until they were merely inches apart. “Sonny, what I do is my business and next time you better think twice before you grab me again. You may think you own her, but you do not own me.”

  Smirking, Robert took a step back, holding up his hands, but in a flash his smirk was gone, replaced by something else, something cold and sinister. Then in one step, he filled the gap between them again. “I think it would be wise for you to stay away from Kristen. If I see you talking to her again, you better watch yourself. You wouldn’t want that pretty little face of yours to get all fucked up again, would ya?” He smirked again and walked away, leaving Carma staring.

  “I really hate that kid,” Carma said, sliding back in the booth across from Harold.

  “Yeah! What was that about? I thought I was going have to intervene.”

  “I really don’t know.”

  Carma glanced over at Kristen and Robert standing around with their group of friends, his arm still securely around her. Sensing her stare, Robert turned and glared at Carma, his face cold as ice once again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I can’t believe football season is over already,” Kristen said, staring at the night around her through the window of Rob’s oversized truck.

  “It had to come to an end eventually and we kicked ass this season. I, for one, am happy to not have to live and breathe football anymore,” Rob said, smiling.

  “I’m glad you’re happy about it, but I’m not. This year has been surreal. Half the time I don’t know if I’m coming or going. Cheering you on has been the only thing keeping it normal and real for me. Basketball season is about to start, and I still have to cheer, but you won’t be there. I won’t be able to see you as much anymore, either.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that right now. I could always come to the games,” he said, still looking ahead at the road.

  “It won’t be the same. Rob, I seriously don’t know what to do now. I’m freaking out!” She turned to Rob near tears, fear etched on her pretty face. “What do I do now?”

  Rob ran his hand down the side of her cheek and smiled. “Now, we party! We’re seniors this year and now that the football season is over, we are free to do whatever we want. Tonight is the end of an era. I will never play high school football competitively again. We have the ability to live life carelessly now. Let’s be young and reckless.” He turned from her and stared out at the country road ahead. “Tonight is sure to be a night to remember for all.”

  “I guess,” she said sadly and turned back to her side window to stare at the scenery passing by on her side of the road.

  They pulled up to Marshall Parker’s riverfront house in Florence a few minutes later and parked at the bottom of the long driveway behind a row of cars. Rob had changed out of his football uniform at the school after the game, but Kristen was still wearing her black and gold cheerleading outfit, which suited Rob just fine.

  Walking up the lengthy driveway toward the house, Kristen suddenly stopped and let go of Rob’s hand. “Hey, Rob, I’m going to go change.”

  “You want me to come with you?”

  “No, I think I can manage on my own.”

  “Okay, I’ll be around back.”

  “Okay. I’ll find you in a bit.”

  Rob walked around the back of the house to where the party was kicking off and Kristen walked through the front door. Although she had been friends with Marshall for a long time and had been to a few of his parties, she had never been in his house before. She stopped in the foyer and looked around the massive house. The layout was wide open, which she had always loved, with large windows lining the back wall facing the river. She walked slowly around the open space in the main sitting room, looking at photos on the walls and mindlessly running her hand over the top of the chunky pale furniture; smooth suede and polished wood glided under her touch. Most pictures were of the smiling family that lived here in various stages of life and others were scenes taken around the county, most were places Kristen recognized. She walked to the windows and looked out at the night. She smiled at the scene outside. There were tons of people scattered around the yard stretching down to the river below, but mostly they were corralled around a barrel keg and a massive bonfire on the far left side of the property close to the water’s edge. There were people she had known most of her life and it saddened her to know Missy was not among them. Like Missy said the night she died, that was supposed to be her year and she had missed it all. She spotted Rob standing by the fire with some of the guys from the football team, probably reliving the glory days from the season. She smiled again and turned around, deciding to go to the master bedroom to change clothes, which she assumed was upstairs, liking the idea of a master bathroom.

  “Nautical. Not surprising,” Kristen said to herself as she entered the huge master bathroom. She immersed her hand in a glass bowl of assorted seashells of all shapes and textures. She picked up a small smooth glossy seashell and rubbed the smooth surface and gently put it back in the bowl.

  Kristen put her bag down on top of the counter and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She still looked so sad with dark puffy circles under her eyes from countless restless nights of crying herself to sleep or waking up from a deep sleep screaming. This year had been so traumatic and it was only slowly getting better. She pulled at her skin, stretching it over the bones and sighed.

  “Maybe that detective is right. Maybe I should go away to college and start over,” she said to her reflection.

  She dug into her bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved green tee shirt and placed them on the counter. She stripped out of her cheerleading outfit and stuffed it in her bag. She stood in front of the mirror again and stared at herself in her black lacey thong and matching bra. She freed her hair from its tight pony tail, letting it fall in dark waves over her shoulders. She
loosely pulled her long dark hair back with her hand and made a sexy pouty pose in the mirror. With a loud bang on the door, she let her hair fall back down around her shoulders and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Someone’s in here!” she yelled before hesitantly turning back to her reflection.

  Undeterred, the person knocked on the door again.

  “I’ll be done in a minute!” she yelled, but the person on the other side of the door grabbed the shiny nickel-plated door knob and began to shake it vehemently, causing the whole door to rattle.

  Kristen quickly put on her jeans and shirt and threw open the door, prepared to lay into the drunken idiot.

  “Hey, asshole!” she yelled.

  She stopped and looked around when she didn’t see anyone standing outside the door. She walked out of the grand bedroom and down the hall and peeked around the corner that led to the stairs, but there was no one there.

  “That was strange,” she said to herself, still looking around before she went back into the bathroom.

  She closed the door and securely locked it again and leaned her back against it. She took a slow deep breath before returning to the mirror. She fixed the clothes that she threw on in her rush and began to touch up her makeup. She lightly patted on some power to cover up the layer of sheen on her face that she developed during the game and curled her long dark eye lashes. With pink glossy lips, she was ready to party.

  Kristen jumped at the sound of a loud knocking on the door again, almost causing her to draw a long line of pink gloss across her cheek.

  “What the hell? Seriously, it isn’t funny!” She yelled and yanked the door open to come face to face with Trey Parker, Marshall’s twin brother, and another guy from the football team. His face was red and eyes were glazed over, obviously already feeling good from the festivities outside.

  “Oh, sorry! I didn’t know anyone was in here,” Trey said, then turned around and left the way he came. Kristen followed him, watching as he stumbled down the hall.

 

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