One Little Letter: A Bad Boy, Second Chance Romance (Office Escapades Book 1)

by Robin Edwards

“Oh,” I said looking down at my clothes. “No, I just got cold.”

  “Okie Dokie,” she replied. “Well, I’m going back to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Night sweetie,” I said innocently.

  I didn’t sleep at all and ended up taking a shower and cooking breakfast for the girls. We all sat around the table quietly eating. Kait was flipping through her phone as usual, and Julie was glancing through the newspaper. I put my fork down nervous at what was about to come out of my mouth.

  “So,” I began. “I have to go to my dad’s house tonight, they want me to come to dinner, and I figured I would.”

  “Oh,” Julie said looking up confused. “Well, I have late night duty with the detectives, but I can move it if you need me to come.”

  “No, no,” I said trying not to sound happy that she wasn’t going to be around. “I’ll be okay. Really.”

  With that, Julie smiled, and we finished our breakfast. Kait left for work, but we tinkered around for a bit since neither of us was in a rush to get to the office. I walked up behind Julie who was brushing her hair in the bathroom mirror. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her on the neck, feeling goosebumps pop up. She turned around and smiled at me, kissing me on the nose.

  “Careful,” she grinned. “We might be extra late if you start that.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said sliding my hand between her legs. “What about if I do that?”

  Julie gasped slightly and dropped her hairbrush, bringing her hands up to the back of my neck. She smiled and propped herself against the bathroom sink, spreading her legs open and winking. I unbuttoned them and pulled them down around her ankles, grabbing her thigh and roughly moving her legs further apart. The bathroom began to fill with steam, but the shower was still dry. Our moans filled the house and echoed off the tile walls as they made love on the bathroom floor. The heat from their passion increased higher and higher until both of us exploded in ecstasy, leaving nothing but two naked heaving bodies on the tile.

  I giggled at the feeling of Julie’s twitching thighs as I ran my fingers lightly over her abdomen. I kissed her breasts, stood up, and helped her to her feet. We had to get to work, even if we both looked like it was already time for another go at it. Julie gave it her best shot, pushing me against the bathroom sink but I knew if we did this again neither of us was making it work, and I needed to get to the cottage. I kissed her and pulled my hand back out of her pants, biting her pouting lip.

  “We will,” I said kissing her mouth. “Continue this later. Except in the bedroom on that sexy chase lounge chair, you bought. It is curved just right.”

  “Ha,” Julie laughed. “Why do you think I got it.”

  I slapped her butt as she walked out of the room and looked up at my sweaty reflection. Hopefully, I made it back in enough vital pieces I could make that promise happen. My walk to work was a little less peppy than usual, especially when we passed my mother’s house, caution tape still covering the doors and windows.

  We got to work, and I left Julie at the morgue letting her know I wouldn’t be available for lunch. I was going to skip out as soon as I could because the drive to the cottage was several hours. The sheriff wasn’t in yet, so I wrote a note and left it on his desk. It is better that I skip out of work before having to lie too much about where I was going. I left the office and walked to my mother’s house, entering in through the back so no one would see me.

  I went into her room, pausing momentarily when seeing the blood still covering the bed. I don’t know why but I thought all of it would be gone. I opened the chest by her bed and pulled the 9mm handgun from it, checking to make sure it wasn’t loaded yet. I filled the clip, turned on the safety, and stuck it in the back of my pants, covering it with my shirt and jacket.

  I knew one thing, if I was going down, I was going down shooting.

  Hopefully, the killer wasn’t thinking the same thing.

  Chapter Three

  Lydia had been acting weird all day, but after she left me at the morgue and went on to work, I figured it was just all the stress and the fact that we had just buried her mom and dad within the same week. The fact that she was going to her step mother’s for dinner was pretty huge, so I am pretty proud of her. I told Kait what was going on and she seemed pretty stoked about it too, not so happy that she would be home alone, though. I assured her I would check in and then went to the office to answer a call from the Sheriff.

  “Hey boss,” I said as I picked up the phone.

  “Julie,” he sounded somber. “I need you to come to my house. I have something to show you.”

  “Sure,” I said slightly confused. “Be there in a second.”

  I grabbed my jacket and walked over to the Sheriff’s house since it was only about four blocks over from the station. The Sheriff’s car was parked out front with another car that I didn’t recognize. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in and found them in the Sheriff’s home office. There was a smaller woman, probably around fifty years old sitting in the office chair.

  “Julie,” the Sheriff said as I walked in. “Have a seat. This is Mrs. Monroe. Mrs. Monroe this is Julie, the County Coroner and detective on the case.”

  “How do you do,” I said shaking her hand.

  “I brought you here because I think we have a big break,” the Sheriff said handing me a picture. “That is Joseph. He was about six in that picture. That is Lydia’s little brother. Well, half-brother.”

  “What,” I said looking at the picture closer. “Lydia never mentioned a brother.”

  “That is because she doesn’t know he existed,” the Sheriff replied. “Lydia was tiny when her dad left and didn’t realize he was leaving because her mother had a baby. She had an affair, and Joseph was the result. She was too little to remember any of it really, and anytime she started to act as if she did, her mother would make up a story to distract her. Joseph is only three years younger than Lydia.”

  “Oh my God,” I said shocked. “But I am confused, what does this have to do with the case?”

  “Fifteen years ago Joseph was reported missing,” the Sheriff said handing me the case file. “He was never found. Everyone just assumed he had died.”

  “So, what, we found him,” I asked confused.

  “Everyone thought he died until, ” the Sheriff said looking at Mrs. Monroe. “Until Mrs. Monroe saw his picture in the paper.”

  The Sheriff handed me a piece of paper, and my stomach flip-flopped to the point I felt woozy. I sat back down in the chair and stared down at the newspaper clipping. He had been right in front of us this entire time.

  “We have to tell Lydia,” I said pulling out my phone. “I will call her and have her come over.”

  “That’s a good idea,” the Sheriff replied.

  “Hello,” the voice on the other end was one of the detectives. “How can I help you?”

  “Hey it’s Julie,” I said. “Can you put Lydia on its an emergency.”

  “I would,” the detective replied. “But she left right after she got here. She said she was going home, didn’t feel right.”

  “Oh,” I said slightly shocked. “Okay thanks, I’ll call her cell.”

  I hung up the phone and dialed Lydia’s cell phone number, but it went straight to voicemail. I tapped my foot nervously realizing that something was going on and I didn’t have a good feeling about it. The phone went straight to voicemail again, and I hung up and reached for my bag.

  “She left the office,” I said to the Sheriff. “She isn’t answering her cell, so I’m going to run home and make sure she is okay.”

  “Be careful,” the Sheriff said. “Take your gun.”

  I tapped my holster that was hiding under my jacket and smiled at Mrs. Monroe who looked very nervous. My mind couldn’t wrap itself around what I just found out, and I rushed towards the house. When I got there, everything seemed normal, and I unlocked the front door and went upstairs. There was no one in the house, and it looked like Lydia had taken her c
ar wherever she was headed. I walked down the stairs and grabbed a sweater from the coat rack, throwing it over my shoulders and walked towards the kitchen looking for any clue that might tell me where she went.

  When my hands plopped down my side, I felt a crinkling of paper in my pocket, and I reached in and pulled out a note that was folded in half. Weird, I hadn’t worn this sweater in over three months. I pulled the paper out and stood in the kitchen reading it. My stomach dropped, and I covered my mouth with my hand. Lydia had gone to meet the killer, who was waiting for her as he waited for Lydia’s father before killing him.

  I ran towards the front door, grabbing my keys from the hook and making my way to the car. I called the Sheriff and told him what I found. He wanted me to wait, but there was no way I could. Lydia probably had a two-hour head start on me and those two hours could be the difference between life and death. My mind shifted to Kait but I thought it best not to include her in this unless necessary, I wasn’t confident where her loyalties would lie. I shook my head with fear and tried to focus on the directions that the GPS was struggling to give me. This cabin was out in the middle of nowhere.

  I started driving before it was done, know the general direction I was supposed to head. How could this have happened? How could I have missed this, it was right on my face the entire time. In fact, it was right in all of our faces, but we refused to see it. Everything started to make sense now from the etchings on the skin that resembled cave drawings of families, to the weird relationship this guy was always in.

  The phone dialed Lydia’s phone repeatedly, pausing to allow me to make a recorded plea to Lydia to call me as soon as she got the message. Her cell phone was always shit, so it probably had no service out there in the middle of nowhere. My nerves were beginning to rise, and I thought about how much I had fallen in love with Lydia and how there was no way that I could handle being without her. We were the perfect team.

  My car sped out onto the highway, and I picked up speed. The GPS caught on, and it said I was still a couple of hours away. The sheriff sent me a text to wait outside until the others got there but he knew that I would never sit by and wait when a minute could mean the difference between life and death. There was so much going on, and I needed Kait to understand but I was too afraid to call her, I didn’t know what her reaction would be.

  I picked up the newspaper clipping from the seat next to me and stared into the eyes of the killer who had taken the life of numerous women and now had his sights set on his own sister. Lydia had no idea what she was walking into, the shock alone would render her useless. I started to feel the panic rising as my foot got heavier on the gas pedal.

  This wasn’t the romantic weekend I had planned for that cottage, and I never thought it would end up a family affair.

  Chapter Four

  It was weird that the Sheriff had Julie come to his house for an update on the case, but it was extra funny that Julie had been gone for hours. I tried to call the Sheriff, but he didn’t answer, and Julie’s phone went straight to message. I even tried to call Lydia, who wasn’t at her desk, but her phone went straight to voicemail too. The morgue didn’t close for another three hours, and I couldn’t shut it down early in case a body arrived, so I sat here tapping my pen anxiously against the desk.

  It was extra quiet at work today and the place, for the first time since I started working here, began to give me the creeps. Visions of bodies rising from the dead sent shivers down my spine, so I picked up my phone and starting perusing the internet. The Golden Globes were last night, so I mindlessly flipped through pictures of Hollywood’s best and worst dressed. I began to zone out on visions of Dolce and Gabbana when my phone buzzed in my hand startling me, causing me to drop it on the floor. I bent down laughing at myself for being so childish and sat back up, flipping open the text.

  It was from an unknown number, and I paused for a moment before opening the message. For some reason, it didn’t feel right, even though I constantly got marketing texts from unknown numbers. There was a picture on the screen, but it was a close up of something, and I couldn’t make out what it was. The caption to the photo read: NOT YOUR IDEA OF A PERFECT RELATIONSHIP IS IT? I was really confused by what this message was trying to tell me, and I twisted the phone back and forth trying to get a better look at what was in the picture. It was still nothing more than a blurry dark image.

  I shrugged and set my phone back down on the desk and got up to get a drink from the fridge. When I had gotten halfway across the room my phone buzzed again, stopping me in my tracks and causing goose bumps to form on the back of the neck. I walked slowly back over to the desk and picked up my phone. Another text message from the unknown caller was pending in the inbox. I opened it, and there was another picture, this time very clear. It was an image of a page from a book, the words “She didn’t even know he existed. She didn’t even care,” highlighted in yellow lettering. The caption to this message read:

  YOU THINK YOU KNOW SOMEONE, BUT YOU’RE TOTALLY WRONG.

  There was no doubt that these words were meant for me but what they meant was very confusing. My gut told me they were from the killer but whoever it didn't seem to be threatening me, just giving me clues. I wrote down the two captions and saved the photos on my phone. I pulled the picture of the page from the book back up on my phone and began reading the rest of the page. It was a romance book, but the section sent to me was talking about some girl not know she had a brother. What did that have to do with anything? I was about to shut my phone again when I caught something familiar in the picture. I walked into Julie’s office and flipped open the file on Lydia’s mother. The picture of the book found on their doorstep was inside and, just as I had suspected, the name of the book, printed in the right-hand corner, was exactly the same.

  So the killer sent me a picture of the book they left with Lydia’s mother but who were they talking about? I sat in Julie’s chair staring at my phone for what seemed like an hour. The phone rang, and it startled me, causing me to knock over several things on Julie’s desk and drop the file to the floor. I missed the call and looked down, surveying the damage. I bent down on the floor and started picking the pieces of papers off the ground and putting them back into the file. The last paper I picked up was the history of the victim. I glanced over it, stopping on the section where Lydia’s father left. Apparently, and I am sure Lydia didn’t know this, Lydia’s dad had an affair, which is what lead to him leaving.

  Maybe that is what the killer meant. Lydia’s dad had started an entirely new family and had other children. But Lydia knew those kids so it wouldn’t have been a surprise to her if he had other children. I put the file back together and fixed Julie’s desk. There was nothing I was going to find out that Julie hadn’t already seen. She had been combing through those papers for months now; she wouldn’t have missed something that important. I put everything back and walked back to the desk, an eerie feeling washing over me. I gathered my things and headed for the door; I needed to let someone know the killer was texting me. I went to grab the handle of the front door when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  I slowly reached for my phone, flipping the front open and holding my breath. I clicked view on the latest text message and stood silently staring at the picture in front of me. I squinted slightly, not fully understanding what I was looking at. After several minutes, I blinked and took a deep breath, going back to the pic with a transparent brain. That was all it took, I knew exactly what I was looking at. Lydia and Julie were in trouble, and all I could do was stand there and stare at the eyes of a killer. A murderer who I knew just by looking at the blue tint to their hazel eyes. How had I missed that?

  The phone buzzed again, and I looked down at a picture of Lydia, unconscious, and tied to a chair. She was still alive in the picture, but it looked like she had been hit in the head. My heart started racing, and I looked around the room as if there was someone there that could help me. The caption to the new revelation stated:

  COME TO THE B
IRMINGTON COTTAGE. YOU TELL, SHE DIES. GET IT RIGHT FOR ONCE KAIT.

  Oh, my God, they had Lydia. I dropped my phone in my purse and ran for my car, not even taking the time to lock up the morgue. I knew exactly where Birmington Cottage was since it was the place I set Lydia and Julie up for their vacation. I couldn’t believe the killer was staring me in the face this entire time and I was too blind to see it. I wanted to lay down and give up. I wanted to give into my aching chest and my extreme fear that would generally leave me paralyzed but I couldn’t let this maniac take Lydia without putting up a fight. Yes, she might be dead by the time I get there, but there was no way I was going to take the chance.

  I pulled out of the police station and headed for the highway. I tried to dial Julie once again, but her phone went straight to voicemail. If I received these texts, Julie might have received some too. The killer had practically threatened her life when her trail became hotter, and she was making headway in the murder case. It would be naïve of me to think they just decided she wasn’t worth it at this point. No, this bastard wants us all together in a room, listening to the sounds of the torture placed on all of us. What the killer didn’t realize is Lydia, Julie, and myself alone would be relatively easy to take out but put us all together, and we aren’t going down without a fight. We just might take the killer down with us in a blaze of glory.

  Either way, all I knew at this point was I was duped, and Lydia also played for a fool, was unconscious at some wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I was sure as hell not letting him take all of us, and fortunately, for me, I knew exactly what the killer’s weak spot was: me.

  Chapter Five

  The smell of dank basement filled my nose, and I felt a throbbing in my head. My eyes slowly began to open, and the vision of my blood-stained lap came clear. My head was hanging down, and I strained to pick it up. I shifted to pull my hands to my head, but they were tied to whatever I was sitting on. My legs rattled the seat, and I realized I was definitely contained. The room was barely lit, and as my neck strained to lift my head, I saw a person with their back turned towards me about fifteen feet away. I blinked several times, trying to clear my eyes, and tears of pain flowed down my cheeks. I could feel something hot on the back of the neck and assumed it was blood.