Unexpected Guest--(Behind Closed Doors 3)

by H. H. Fowler

  “You can’t avoid talking about it.”

  Candi spun around from the mirror. “I thought you came to apologize for taking Izaiah away from me.”

  Asia bit back her retort and said as measurably as she could, “Is this the reason why you are so mean to me?”

  “You know it is, so don’t act like you’re surprised.”

  “You can’t force anyone to love you, Candi. Why would you even settle for that kind of misery?”

  “I’m not settling for anything! Izaiah and I get along just fine. We do a lot of fun things together – until you show up and ruin everything.”

  Candi spun back toward the mirror and reapplied a second layer of the facial cream to her skin. It was clear she was itching for an argument, but Asia was searching for a way to diffuse it. She took a chance by getting within three feet of Candi’s profile.

  “Izaiah is a kind, considerate man. Too friendly, if you ask me. He won’t hesitate to make anyone’s day a little brighter if he can. You see how supportive he’s been since our father went missing. Taking care of the church and making sure our family is secure. But you can’t translate those wonderful traits into something more than what they really are.”

  When Candi did not respond, Asia took it as a cue to continue. “I can see why any woman would fall in love with Izaiah.”

  “You’re supposed to be in love with Jorge,” Candi spat.

  “I will always have a special place in my heart for Jorge, but Jorge has been dead for over three years. Don’t you think it’s time for me to move on with my life?”

  “You mean with Izaiah?”

  “Yes. Izaiah has asked me to marry him.”

  Candi stopped what she was doing and glared at Asia. “And what did you say?”

  “Isn’t the answer obvious?”

  “What did you say?” Candi repeated.

  Asia steeled herself against her sister’s intimidating stare. “I am going to marry Izaiah and I need you to be okay with that.”

  A flood of tears quickly filled Candi’s eyes. Her lips trembled, not because she didn’t know what to say, but because she was deeply wounded. For so long she had been pursuing Izaiah with all of her might, only to lose him to her younger sister. That meant Asia was going to have Izaiah’s beautiful children and they’d have a blissful life together. And what did she get? A crushed heart.

  Tears began to well up in Asia’s eyes, too, as it had been years since she’d seen Candi show such an abundance of emotions. She didn’t show that much for their own missing father.

  “Don’t cry, Candi. I did not say that to hurt you.”

  “Get out of my room!”

  “I am not going anywhere.”

  Asia attempted to put an arm around Candi’s shoulder, but Candi jumped to her feet and distanced herself. But that did not deter Asia. She could see that her sister needed to be held, but was too full of pride to accept it. She followed Candi and locked her hands around Candi’s waist. But it was a challenge, because Candi was struggling to get out of her embrace.

  “Get away from me!”

  “I love you…”

  “You don’t love me, because you would have never hurt me like this!”

  Asia kept her tone warm and soothing. “I love you…”

  “You don’t love me!”

  “Yes I do. We all do.”

  “Nobody loves me! Not you! Not Daddy! Not…” Candi couldn’t finish the sentence. Her heart gave way to painful sobbing. She fell limp in Asia’s arms, resting her face against Asia’s neck. “How come Izaiah doesn’t love me?”

  “He does love you,” Asia tried. “I’m sorry it’s not in the way that you want, but he does care a great deal about you and wants to see you happy. We all want to see you happy. It breaks my heart to even see you fall apart like this. Please tell me that you’re gonna be okay. I am tired of the fighting. I won’t marry Izaiah if this war continues between us. This family is going through too much pain as it is.”

  Candi raised her head from Asia’s neck and stared at her. She searched Asia’s eyes for any falsification in that statement. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Yes, Candi. I will sacrifice my happiness to salvage my relationship with you. You mean that much to me as my sister.”

  “You know, that is one of the dumbest things I’ve heard anyone say in a long time. I’m not too sure I would have done the same for you.”

  “Well, I stand by it.”

  Candi removed herself completely out of Asia’s grip and took a seat on the edge of the bed. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a moment of silence to think about what she wanted to say next. It turned out her sister wasn’t such a spoiled, selfish brat after all.

  “I’m okay with you marrying Izaiah on one condition.”

  Asia gave Candi a cautionary side glance. “Okay…should I even ask what that is?”

  “You think you know me so well, don’t you? Well, try this one on for size. I’ll be your maid of honor if you promise to find a hot-looking guy for me to walk down the aisle with.”

  Asia grinned in relief. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  When Asia finally left the room, Candi clicked off the lights and climbed into her bed. She stared at the ceiling, as the warm tears fell out of her eyes and onto the pillow. Seeing Asia get married to Izaiah was going to be a difficult pill for her to swallow.

  ****

  After a warm shower, Anwar got into bed with his wife. But he noticed that she had fallen to sleep waiting on him so that they could go over the events of their day. Her long, thick ringlets were spread wildly over her pillow, giving her flawless cream complexion a gorgeous, ethereal appearance. He thought to himself that he was so blessed to be married to her. She needed her rest, especially after crying through what Detective Shelby had told the family that morning about Gregory’s possible demise.

  Tomorrow was Sunday, which would begin their fourth week since they had been married, but Anwar couldn’t wait for things to normalize so that he could fully enjoy his young wife. Then he thought: Would that ever be possible with these anonymous texts and a pornographic video looming over his head? Maybe he should take matters into his own hands, because the detectives seemed stumped about what to do.

  He quietly eased out of the bed and walked over to the nightstand to get his cell phone. It had been charging for the last two hours, so he was sure he had a full-life battery to work with. He locked himself in the bathroom and then pulled up the video, which was already halfway into a sex scene. The licentious screams from the girl’s mouth caught Anwar off guard. He’d forgotten the volume was turned up. He nervously fumbled to quiet the racket before it got to Dallis’ ears.

  For the next fifteen minutes, Anwar replayed the video repeatedly, trying to find some clue that would expose this farce. Nancy Covington was the girl in the video. How could he forget when she’d been advertising around the campus that she was a twenty-year-old virgin? How unfortunate she had been killed in a car accident. That ruled out for sure that Nancy was the one trying to blackmail him. But somehow, someone else had gotten a hold of this video and had manipulated it.

  Anwar couldn’t stop focusing on Nancy’s eyes. He paused the video to study her face. It seemed as if he’d seen her recently. But where? Those lazy, bedroom eyes were unforgettable. Suddenly, his cell vibrated in his hands, and for the second time since locking himself in the bathroom, Anwar had to pick up his heart from the floor. Keeping secrets from Dallis was nerve-racking. He took a deep breath and looked at the text that had just come in:

  If you want to know who I am, meet me in the driveway in fifteen minutes…don’t forget to kiss Dallis goodnight…lol.

  In the driveway? Anwar felt like he was losing oxygen to his brain. His first thought of action was to call Detective Shelby, but he received another text, right after the first one.

  Don’t get smart and call the police. I have Dallis’ number and email, which I won’t hesitate to use to get my point acros
s. Nancy used to brag how good you were in bed. I can’t wait to spread my legs for you…lol…”

  Anwar had about all of the fear that he could take. But anger seized him suddenly, as he thought about how this person was trying to destroy his life without reputable cause. He stood to his feet and slipped into a pair of shorts he’d thrown across the hamper. He swore to himself that this craziness was going to end tonight.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Richard and Karissa had only gone back to the office to wrap up the notes on their desks. Based on lab results and other connecting circumstances, Gregory was unofficially declared dead and his case had been shoved to the back burner. And if no other lead came in soon that would direct police to his body, Richard knew it would only be a matter of time before Gregory’s case got completely lost in the cold case files.

  Unfortunately for the Bliss Haven Police, Ms. V had been extradited to the United States for crimes she’d committed there. The government of Bliss Haven had an extradition treaty with the United States, which gave the U.S. federal government negotiation power to ensure that their request was handled promptly and legally. Ms. V’s men were still being held in Bliss Haven prison cells, but they continued to give conflicting stories about Gregory’s disappearance. They also refused to take a plea bargain, so it was a waste of time going after them for any assistance.

  However, instead of going home to get some much needed rest, the detectives ended up keeping another late night, as they were working to find concrete information on Montgomery and Della Black. They’d rummaged through the investigative databases, but it had revealed next to nothing, except a foreign telephone number that had been disconnected. But they had discovered on the Internet someone by the name of Monty Blackman, a former BWM executive. Could Montgomery Black and Monty Blackman be one and the same? The detectives couldn’t be sure. They needed more – like a photo that could instantly connect the two.

  “I think we should search the social networks,” Karissa suggested. “They are gaining in popularity every day.”

  With a slight frown, Richard replied, “Even so, a lot of people still stay away from those things.”

  “Not according to the number I read the other day,” Karissa countered. “There are almost one billion active users on Facebook. Over forty million active users on Twitter. And about forty million people who’ve joined Google Plus. That’s a lot of users for us to simply ignore. I update my status on my Facebook page every other day. It can become very addictive.”

  “You always make things seem so appealing,” Richard said.

  “Thanks!” Karissa turned her back to Richard as she used generic credentials to log into Facebook. “Who’s first?”

  “Della Black seems to be the impressionable type, although she portrays a very confident exterior. Most girls her age are into the social networks.”

  “Then, Della Black it is,” Karissa said. She typed in the name in the search area and waited. “Whoa, there are about thirty Della Blacks and about thirty variations of her name.”

  “Well, look for one who has a purple Mohawk,” Richard offered.

  Karissa scrolled through the list of names. “Bingo! Now why didn’t I think of that?”

  Richard rolled his swivel chair from under his desk and brought it next to Karissa. He stared at the screen and scanned the details of Della’s Facebook page. “How old did Miss Rose say Della was?”

  “Fifteen, if I remember correctly.”

  “It says here that she is twenty-two – the same age as Anwar.”

  “Well, that’s not unusual,” Karissa said. “People normally lie about stuff like that on these social networks.”

  Richard was not totally sold that that was the case with Della. “I guess. Click on some of the pictures.”

  There were not that many pictures, but there was one that stood out that almost made Richard fall out of his seat. “She is wearing a Station 61 baseball cap. Now, what are the chances that the location where Gregory was last seen, shows up on the head of a girl we’re investigating?”

  “You are thinking like a detective,” Karissa joked. “You can’t help it.”

  “I know you think I’m obsessed with Station 61, but there’s something I think we’re still missing.”

  “Well, you may be right, but I’m sticking to my theory.”

  “And what theory is that?”

  “That Anwar and Della are having an affair – or at least had one. And she and her father are using that information to blackmail Anwar for money. Did you see the way she looked at him? As if he was a piece of prime rib.”

  Richard shook his head. “It’s a stretch. That would mean Della is the one who’s been sending Anwar those anonymous texts, which is improbable, because those texts are connected to a Mexican area code. Besides, Anwar says he’s never met the girl.”

  “He’s terrified of losing his wife. Of course he would say he doesn’t know Della.” Karissa turned and stared at Richard. She could see sleep bags were beginning to develop beneath his eyes. “I think we’ve stumbled upon some interesting information, but I think we should call it a night. You look as if you’ll be sleepwalking any minute.”

  “I won’t argue with that, because I am really exhausted. You should be too.”

  “I am, but I am also fifteen years younger than you. My body can handle the load.”

  Richard chuckled. “I won’t argue with that either. So, tomorrow over a hot cup of coffee, we will pick this up.”

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Anwar walked out through the kitchen exit toward the driveway. He was so upset that he passed Della without giving her a cordial greeting. He glanced at his watch. He was almost ten minutes early. It explained why this succubus was not where she was supposed to be. From that last inappropriate text, Anwar figured out that it was a girl who’d been messing with him the entire time. And maybe it was not Gregory after all.

  It infuriated him even the more. How dare this female coax him out of his bedroom to defend against something he knew he did not do? But could he be sure that this person was really a female? It could be some sick dude trying to pull a Mustafa on him – the Arabian pervert who’d almost raped him three years ago. Now, Anwar’s emotions vacillated between anger and fear. Did he really know what he was getting himself into? He should have called Detective Shelby, regardless of the threat.

  “Who are you waiting on, handsome?” Della asked in an innocent little voice.

  “That’s none of your business,” Anwar snapped. “As a matter of fact, I think you should go inside. I need the privacy.”

  Della grinned. “My name is Della Black, by the way.”

  “Who cares?”

  “I don’t think you understand…Della Black, as in Nancy Covington.”

  Anwar felt his blood turn to ice. He spun around so swiftly that he almost tripped over his own feet. He stared past the purple Mohawk, the tattoos and body piercings and tried to picture the girl standing before him as the girl in the video. He couldn’t quite make the connection except for those lazy, bedroom eyes. He tried to remember where he’d recently seen them. Then it struck him suddenly that those were the same eyes that had undressed him earlier that morning while he was talking to the detectives. But was she really Nancy Covington? Because if she was, she would not only be the quintessential unexpected guest, but his worst nightmare come true.

  Della rolled her eyes in a playful manner. “You’re staring at me as if I were a ghost. I am really Nancy Covington in the flesh. See? Touch me and feel for yourself.”

  “But you died in a car accident,” Anwar managed.

  Della giggled. “Don’t believe everything you hear. This is 2014. Anyone could fake their own death with the right tools in place. I never really left Bliss Haven when you graduated last year. I dropped out of school and underwent a change of identity. As you can see, I’ve transformed myself into a beautiful fifteen-year-old gothic and gave myself the alias, Della Black for the purpose for which I was
assigned.

  “But for your sake, I will take some of that confusion out of those gorgeous brown eyes of yours. Straight up, Ms. V hired me and my husband to devise a plan to destroy Gregory’s family. You were especially targeted because Ms. V blames you for destroying her operation in Bliss Haven. You were supposed to be dead a long time ago.”

  “Your husband?” Anwar’s brain had trouble catching up to the rest of what Della was saying.

  “Montgomery Black is not my father. He is my husband. Well, Montgomery Black isn’t really his name, but all the same, he’s the slime ball who has been romancing your mother-in-law in her bedroom for the last four hours.” Since Anwar appeared speechless, Della hastened to build her undermining plot. “Anyway, that slime ball and I were offered two million dollars to carry out the plan. Half of it was transferred to our accounts and the other half was to have been paid once we completed our assignment.

  “Last year, we moved here to Bliss Haven from the House of gods’ Mexican operation. Found a place to live and a church to attend, which, obviously, is St. Donovan’s Chapel. While my husband constructed a plan to sleep with Gregory’s wife, I enrolled at Bliss Haven Christian Academy and began to set my sights on you.”

  To satisfy his curiosity, Anwar queried, “You knew your husband was being paid to sleep with Dana. Why do you seem so bothered by it?”

  “Because he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her! He simply was to record them having sex so that Ms. V could torture Gregory with it.”

  “So, Gregory is still alive?”

  “You’ve been watching the news; you tell me.”

  Della was flustered all of a sudden. She kept glancing at the front door, as if waiting for someone to walk through it at any minute. Anwar couldn’t care less about Della’s nervousness. He wanted to know how much she knew about the video, as the revelation finally registered that he was really talking to Nancy Covington.

  “It was you then, who’d been sending those texts to my phone?”

  “Did you get the video as well? It looks real, doesn’t it?”