by C. J. Thomas
My lips rounded as I blew out a heavy sigh.
Stepping out of the vehicle, I tucked his photograph away.
The grass had grown tall but was now golden brown and dead. Kicking my feet into the dirt, I walked slowly with my eyes glued to the ground. I needed clues, anything that could prove that this wasn’t an accident, but premeditated murder. Hope kept me moving, searching for something I doubted I would find here.
I stopped.
Picking my head up, I looked around.
Swiveling my gaze from side to side, I peeled back the curtains of time and replayed the day’s events to the best of my memory. The giggles coming from the back. The squealing tires. The sound of metal crumpling. Then death.
The backs of my eyes swelled.
Blood filled my ears.
I blinked out the tears as I struggled to breathe past the stone lodged in my throat. Suffocating in what I couldn’t control—or get back—I balled my hands into fists and bit my knuckles until they bled.
This was the first time I had been back. All this time I had purposely avoided the street at any cost or inconvenience. The flood of pain was too much. I escaped by drowning myself in work, getting lost in lust and expedition. Now, I could see I had been led astray, made to believe life was but an illusion.
I scuffled my feet in the jungled grass roots. A glint caught my eye and I took a closer look. A broken fragment from the crash, all those years ago. Sitting on my haunches, I unearthed the shard of headlight still buried in the dirt like the coffin that housed my son. Holding it up to the sunlight, I knew this was mine.
Twisting it against the sun, it reflected light and shined a ray as bright as the angel Patrick had become. Digging the sharp edge into my thumb, I swiped against the pad until my skin broke and opened up.
The sex was meant to numb my feelings of loss. Navigating the world as a sudden widow, I was lost. My system down. My direction obscured. The family I loved and lost, no longer with me. I still felt the pain. Woke with it every morning. If only Kendra could understand it wasn’t her, but Madam, then we would be just fine. She’d pinpointed the source but I knew she still blamed herself.
Releasing the broken fragment, I watched the grass catch its fall.
I squeezed out the last drop of blood and stood. The wind from passing cars whizzed by my head as smells of exhaust clouded my brain.
I wanted to make love to her, make her orgasm until the sun came up but not in the fashion I knew she wanted from me. Kendra was experiencing withdrawal. I’d seen it in myself. Knew the symptoms. Hell, even a part of me wanted to give in now and partake in the sin. It was an easy escape, I’d give her that, but we needed to face our demons head on and learn to accept ourselves—past and future—for what we were.
I kicked around the dirt for another fifteen minutes before retreating back inside the car. There was nothing here worth noting except reminders of what I’d done wrong.
Getting back on the road, there was only one place I knew I needed to go.
Parker Holdings was nearby and wouldn’t eat too much into my day, so I decided I would stop in and see if he knew what I knew about Angel.
I was parked and walking inside in a matter of minutes. My knuckles had stopped bleeding but the evidence was still there. I wore is proudly, wanting the world to see me as the warrior I was.
When the receptionist recognized my face, her smile dropped into a frown. Holding her breath, I greeted her in a friendly tone. “Is Mr. Parker free?”
Flicking her eyes over her shoulder, Parker’s office door was opened. He must have heard my voice because, a second later, he was calling me in. “Kelly Black. I’m here. Please, come inside.”
Nodding to the woman, I heard her begin to breathe as soon as I stepped past. “Got a minute?”
“Shut the door.” Parker pointed his finger over my shoulder.
Shutting the door, he offered me a drink. I declined and took a seat.
He set his felt pen down and gathered his paperwork into a stack. I hadn’t seen him since he was made a suspect in Tonya’s murder but, I could honestly say, he looked a hell of a lot better than when he was hiding out, living off of take out.
Parker leaned back and clasped his hands over his stomach. His hair was evenly parted to one side, his face slick and shaved above his pressed three-piece Armani suit. His stress lines were still deep when he asked, “What brings you here?”
Glancing to his desk, it was safe to assume he was keeping his time full with work.
“I was in the area and thought I would check in on a friend.” Our eyes met. He flashed a sideways grin. “How is business? Did your merger go through as planned?”
“Delayed.” When he leaned forward, his leather chair croaked. “I saw the news about what happened to Oscar.”
Nodding, I said, “Madam, too.”
“Yes, her too.” His eyes cast to his threaded fingers resting calmly on his desk. We sat in silence for a moment before he turned his gaze back to me. “If you’re here to talk about the case, all I can say is that I’m innocent.”
I held his stare without giving anything away.
“My lawyer tells me that the police don’t have any other suspects and I’m at the top of their list.”
“That’s actually why I’m here.”
His gaze narrowed as he cautiously studied me.
“Tim, I know who did kill Tonya.” His head floated back with sudden surprise. “And I know it wasn’t you.”
18
Kendra
Kelly was gone when I woke.
I wasn’t at all surprised.
Truthfully, after last night, I was thankful to be alone. Stretch my body beneath the sheets and take my time in getting to where I needed to be. His words were a punch to the gut. It killed the night. Silenced us both. Even as he managed to find his way into my dreams, I didn’t want to have to ask him what he meant by his comment of not wanting to do this anymore. Because I wasn’t giving up on him even if he was letting me go.
I found his note on his way out the door. It was short, mildly reassuring with the promise of a call from the office. He didn’t give a time, nor reason, but I could feel his frustration in my demands of wanting to have sex with him a certain way.
Falling behind the steering wheel, my cheeks pulled in with shame of not knowing how I could admit to his failed attempts to bring me to orgasm. It would kill his ego. Destroy his confidence. And that was the fear I grappled with—afraid he would take offense to something I knew wasn’t his fault but mine alone.
Dr. Hall had me scheduled for an early morning appointment. Kelly didn’t know, and I certainly wasn’t ready to tell him.
I prepared myself on the drive over, having laid out a plan on exactly how our conversation would go, what I would say, and how I would phrase my sentences to get Dr. Hall to begin to see the world through my eyes.
Upon arrival, I was greeted with a white smile. With coffee in hand—having picked it up on my way over—I took the patient’s seat on the couch, knowing this time we had an hour all to ourselves.
Sitting across from me, Dr. Hall’s hands stayed off the notepad she kept within reach. “Have you had time to think about the questions I left you with yesterday?”
Swinging my leg over my knee like a child at a playground—enthusiastically and without care—I took my time to gather the words rolling around on my tongue like loose marbles. “I know you told Alex I was coming here.”
Dr. Hall didn’t hesitate to respond. “Does that make you angry?”
I glanced to my coffee before flicking my eyes back to her. Was that her intention? “Isn’t it against policy?”
“Would you rather I not have told her?”
If it had been anybody other than Alex, I would have been pissed and probably wouldn’t have bothered coming back. Instead, I was only mildly upset. “I’m not angry. I don’t care. I’m not sure why I’m even mentioning it.” I wrapped my lips around the plastic lid and took shelter b
ehind the cup.
“Alex cares deeply for you, Kendra.”
“What great insight,” I said sarcastically. Instead, it just came out sounding mean.
“She’s worried about you.”
I uncrossed my legs and flicked my gaze out the window. Naturally, I felt my ears closing out of pure habit of not wanting to listen to anybody’s advice but my own. The contrails of a plane streaked across the baby blue sky and, again, I thought about getting away from here.
“We need to reach out when we’re feeling low,” Dr. Hall droned on. “You must have found some value in our quick session yesterday to have come back.”
Without turning my head to meet her eye, I shrugged half-heartedly.
“There is an old saying that it take a village to raise a child.”
Child? The woman was supposed to be a professional. Instead of helping, all I heard were insults disguised as advice. Turning to face her with slanted brows, I opened my mouth to retaliate but, before I could shoot my mouth off, she beat me to the punch.
“But I like to think it takes a village to uplift a community.” Her eyes shone. “The little bit you shared with me yesterday,” she angled to the side and draped her left leg over her right knee, “I’m under the impression that you don’t have much of a community.”
This time, I stared into her knowing expression with blinking eyes. “I came here wanting to believe that I can find answers in the mess of my life.”
A gentle smile let me know she was happy to have me opening up. “What is the mess of your life?”
“Have you seen the news?” My voice sang a note higher.
“Are you referring to your relationship with Kelly Black?”
“I don’t know.” Not knowing where to look, I lifted my cup to my mouth. “I guess,” I muttered, mentioning quickly how we met.
“Why did you want to become an escort?”
Her words were genuine, unassuming and nonjudgmental. She was the exact opposite of me and, strangely, I respected her for it. “Wasn’t because the pay was good, I can tell you that. I have plenty of money.”
“What do you like to spend your money on?”
I had opened myself up, and I was glad that she didn’t take the bait and ask me how I received my money. She probably assumed it was from escorting. At least then it appeared I had earned what I had. The last thing on my mind was the stupid challenge to the family inheritance, and besides, Kelly said he was working on it. “Clothes. Shoes. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this city is all about fashion. What you wear, whose arm you’re hanging off of. Some will say it’s superficial, but LA was my first love. I’ll never turn my back on it.” I suppose with my new obsession to get away, it was somewhat of a lie. But she didn’t need to know that.
“It’s important to you to have nice things.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “It is.” I held her blue eyes inside of mine before breaking away and saying, “Kelly mostly pays for everything now.”
“How does that make you feel?” I must have given her a questioning look because she was quick to follow up with, “To be told what to do.”
I took my time thinking my answer through. It hadn’t even occurred to me that the clock was ticking. It just felt nice to be sitting comfortably, seeing how a stranger reacted when dissecting my life’s decisions. “I really like it.”
The room fell silent.
“That’s weird, isn’t it?” My face scrunched into my nose.
Shaking her head, she said, “You would be surprised by how many women willingly let go of the responsibility of making their own decisions.”
I stroked the heated cup with the tips of my fingers as I struggled with wanting to open up more about my relationship with Kelly. When I glanced up at Dr. Hall, I wondered what kind of sex life she had—if any. I wanted to know what she thought about my need to constantly be with men, my craving for adventure and putting myself in precarious situations. Instead, she asked about my father.
“Was he a disciplinarian?”
I snorted. “Hardly. I ran wild. My parents didn’t know how to control me.”
“But Kelly can?”
My lips parted. “Yeah. I suppose he can.”
Dr. Hall reached for her notepad and jotted down her thoughts. “Are you on speaking terms with your parents?”
I wasn’t sure how I wanted to respond. Did I mention our entire history, or let the rumor about Dad slide? “Hit or miss.”
Her eyes swept off the yellow legal pad and landed on me. “When was the last time you visited them?”
“I saw my mom last week.”
“And your father?”
“We haven’t spoken in years.”
“And why is that?” The tip of her pen stood still and waited to work.
I told her the story about Dad supposedly living with ALS. She asked about the possibility of divorce and I went on to explain how my mother had refused to let me see him because she saw my profession—my old profession of escorting—as unholy. “Our history is fucked up and the reason I’m here.”
“Do they know you’re seeking treatment?”
I shook my head and cast my eyes down.
Dr. Hall set her pen down. “Maybe it’s time to tell them exactly how you feel so you can both move on.”
19
Kelly
Leaving Parker’s office, I wondered if my visit had the opposite effect of what I’d intended.
He remained cordial throughout the entire conversation. I felt bad for him and, in hindsight, wasn’t exactly sure why I visited at all. He seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation. Like he knew something that I didn’t. Maybe he had lost interest? Because he was acting like a man who had given up—a man patiently waiting to be arrested.
My brain clattered with more questions than answers and, if anything came of my visit, it was that I left feeling completely unsettled.
Heading to the office, I drove at the speed of traffic, continually scratching my head.
I had his back. Told him who killed Tonya. Yet Parker insisted it didn’t matter what I knew because the district attorney’s office was going to believe whatever they wanted. That might have been true with Oscar at the helm but, with him gone, it couldn’t continue down the same path.
The evidence suggested that Timothy was the last person to have had sex with Tonya before she died. Spun correctly, his alibi and history wouldn’t mean a thing to a jury of his peers.
Glancing in my mirrors, I changed lanes.
I’d only made things worse. Instead of helping, I’d only resurfaced his underlying stress that hadn’t gone away. Even if he didn’t want to show it. It was there, hiding in plain sight for the careful observer to see.
I wanted closure for myself, yes, but I also wanted Parker to realize that he was closer to his own ending than maybe he realized himself. We couldn’t let Angel walk. But, first, that meant making sure Stone got what he deserved. That was my job, a task I wasn’t convinced I wanted.
“Fuck.” I slammed my palm against the steering wheel and grumbled a series of curses under my breath.
I wanted this to be over. Get back to focusing on Kendra. Push my career aside and smother her in my unconditional love. Except I couldn’t rush this without risking losing it all. Including her.
When once I was the mercenary who could save innocent people from harm, it seemed I no longer had that ability. Around every corner I only brought trouble. Made things worse. Which got me thinking about last night.
I needed to tell Kendra I was sorry. That I didn’t mean what I said. At least not how I knew she took it.
Connecting my cell to Bluetooth, I dialed Kendra’s cell.
My lungs started burning as I waited for her to answer.
When she didn’t pick up, I tried the penthouse. Again, no answer.
Checking the time, I couldn’t see her sleeping past 8AM. Then again, maybe she had and that was her reason for not picking up.
Scrubbing a ha
nd over my face, I regretted leaving the house still pissed.
My words could have been interpreted a dozen different ways. Our relationship already on shaky ground, I didn’t want to push Kendra away any further than I already had. She was as vulnerable as I was, but we needed the other to survive.
When I pulled into the office parking lot, Giselle’s spot was empty.
Marching up the front stairs, I slid my key into the lock and opened the door. But before I stepped inside, I turned to glance over my shoulder. I supposed I did it out of instinct—the leftover feelings of paranoia from having to endure the reality of Madam snooping while I wasn’t paying attention.
The street was quiet, the air dead. No one was watching. No foot traffic coming or going. I had the place to myself and that was what I feared most. Inside was the same. Silent. Too quiet to think straight.
Falling into the leather high back chair, I stared at my empty desk feeling worthless.
Naturally, my gaze drifted to the corner spot that once held the framed photo of Nora and Patrick. That, too, was as empty as my chest.
I filled my lungs deep with a need for redemption before tipping forward and checking my desk phone for any new messages.
Nothing.
I rolled my neck and stared out the window, wondering why I’d bothered coming here at all. It was the same story everywhere I traveled. Self-righteousness guiding me to the cliffs of a depleted ego.
With no new cases to work, and no desire to put energy into Blake Stone’s trial, I questioned my life’s career choices. Had it all been in vain? Could I honestly convince myself that I did the work to help others? I didn’t know. But one thing I could say for sure was that maybe it was time for me to move on. I didn’t know what I would do or where I would go, but knew it had to be with Kendra.
I put a call in to Agent Tyler Mark. “Any movement on my family’s murder?”
