MY FATHER’S KILLER
Kayla’s Story
By Cassandra V. Wyatt
COPYRIGHT
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Printed in the United States of America
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Cassandra V. Wyatt
WORKS BY CASSANDRA V. WYATT
SHORT STORIES
The River
Retribution: The Comeuppance of Alexis Renee James
Out of the Dark
Beware the Stranger
NOVELS
My Father’s Killer
The Captor: A Twisted Tale of Madness and Mayhem
The Captor 2: Teresa’s Descent Into Madness
POETRY
Soulful Stirrings
SHORT STORY ANTHOLOGY
Shadow Tales
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated with deep love and affection to my daughter, August. May your journey in life be so much easier than it was to actually write this book and always remember:
“When Excellence is Your Primary Objective, Success Will Always be the Outcome.”
With love,
Mom
Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT
WORKS BY CASSANDRA V. WYATT
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Meanwhile in another part of town
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
At the Precinct
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
At the Warehouse
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
One Month Later
EPILOGUE
To My Readers
PROLOGUE
Gary stood in front of the long wooden desk nervously waiting for a response. His apprehensions about this meeting were completely justified. He knew that he had screwed up badly but he still hoped that he could find a way to make things right; if only given enough time.
“You’ve got seven days to get my money.”
“I’m going to need more time. There’s no way I’ll be able to get that kind of money that quickly.”
“Seven days.”
“Please.”
With an ominous tilt of his head, the man on the other side of the desk asked, “Would you like me to make it three days?”
“No.”
“Then I trust you’ll have my money in seven days.” With a nod of his head, the man indicated that the meeting was over and signaled to his men to escort Gary out.
Once outside, As Gary began to weigh his options he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see one of the bodyguards whisper something in the ear of one of the guys who had escorted him out. They all stood by the doorway watching him as he went with guns locked and loaded and fingers on the triggers. No doubt the order to keep him under constant watch had already been given. He could take his family and leave town or he could go to the police; but he quickly dismissed both options. He already knew that there were a few officers on the payroll with unclean hands. Since he didn’t know exactly who they were, if he approached the wrong one… he didn’t even want to think about what would happen. He had no other choice but to go it alone and try to figure this out.
A wave of regret washed over him. Why couldn’t he have just left that woman alone? He promised his wife he would never cheat on her again and when he broke that promise, he foolishly chose a woman who was quite romantically involved with a drug lord. When the affair was exposed, he was given the choice of either laundering money for the cartel or dying a slow and painful death, along with his family. Of course he chose to launder the money. “But you couldn’t stop there with your mistakes could you? You just had to try to be slick and skim money off the top like they were never going to find out. Did you really think you could use their money to move yourself and your family far out of their reach? You thought you were being so careful. Now look at you.”
Gary got in his car and placed his head on the steering wheel, tears streamed down his face. He had seven days, not one second more.
Deep within his gut, he knew he was a dead man.
Chapter 1
Lambert County, Virginia was a beautiful little town with quiet tree-lined streets and a population of 100,000. The streets were clean and the air was even cleaner. The only places open after 11:00 pm were the movie theater and the bars; all the other stores and shops were closed by then. There were several parks and the school system was one of the best. The people were friendly; quick to smile, wave hello and they didn’t hustle and bustle from dusk ‘til dawn. In fact, most of the people in Lambert tended to be quite unpretentious and moved at an unhurried pace. If asked, most of them would tell you that they wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in the world. With a very low crime rate and a high employment rate it would be difficult to find someone in Lambert who would express any type of discontent. The majority of Lambert’s residents were very happy and satisfied; most but not all.
A few years back, the residents of this friendly and unassuming town were confronted with something that they could not explain. One of their very own was murdered in the most horrific way and that fact left a bad taste in many people’s mouths. Lambert was not the type of place where bad things happened and the murder left a lot of people confused and many more frightened. There were several residents who had moved there to raise their families while others came to retire and some came just for a quieter more peaceful way of life. But the murder of Gary Richards changed all of that.
Suddenly, doors that would normally be left unlocked were always locked. People would check and then double-check their windows and doors before going to bed at night. After dinner walks pretty much came to a halt and for those that still went out, they always made sure they went in groups. Fear prompted some people to move and others chose to invest in firearms for the protection of self, family and home. Someone coming to Lambert for the first time would be completely unaware of these changes, but for those who had made Lambert their home, the changes were obvious and quite noticeable.
The truth of the matter was that with Lambert being the type of place that it was, murder was a word reserved for television shows and not to describe an occurrence in town. The people there could handle the occasional theft but they had no experience with the concept of murder so close to home. Without any real life experience in the world of crime beyond what they saw on their television sets, their imaginations would be fueled by plots seen on afternoon and evening soap operas. Some speculated that Gary Richards lived a secret, seedy double life and was connected to the mob. After crossing someone high up on the chain of command, he was fitted with concrete shoes and dropped into the river. Others guessed that he found himself
on the receiving end of an angry husband’s revolver. Such conjecture was perfectly natural given the circumstances. But at the same time, the lack of factual information and details had left people wary and guarded.
Right in the middle of the doubt, fear and suspicion that plagued the Lambert residents was Ann Richards, wife of Gary Richards and Kayla Richards, his daughter. On a daily basis, they would encounter neighbors who once upon a time would go out of their way to speak and invite them over for some function or another, but now all they ever got from those same neighbors was an apprehensive side-eye. Their neighbors no longer knew what to think or how to address the two Richards women. The end result was that Kayla and her mother became people to avoid lest their bad fortune find its way onto the doorstep of some innocent neighbor.
The Richards family was pretty well-known. There was almost nowhere that you could go and not hear someone speak highly of them.
Conversely, after Gary’s murder, people would whisper and speak in hushed tones whenever Kayla and her mother passed. Once welcome almost anywhere, they became the town pariahs; partly because their heartache was so intense that they withdrew from any human contact but their own and partly because the murder of Gary Richards had enshrouded them in an air of mystery they neither understood nor cared to break through.
At first, the newfound coldness was difficult for them to deal with, especially when it would have been nice, comforting even, to have the emotional support system that their community had once provided. Over time, Ann and Kayla accepted their new lot in life and for the most part completely understood the wariness of their neighbors. Ultimately, they harbored no ill will toward their neighbors at all. If there was anyone who they held any animosity for, it was whoever had taken the life of Gary Richards. Even though they suffered the feelings of loss daily, they still had each other. Consequently, Kayla and her mother retreated into the world that they knew and understood best, their own.
***
“Kayla, are you alright?” her mother asked.
Kayla picked up the picture sitting on the mantle. It was a picture of her and her father that was taken on her 25th birthday. He was so proud of her and so happy to be celebrating her “quarter of a century” birthday as he called it. He had worn his favorite black suit, light grey shirt and maroon and grey tie. His black dress shoes were polished to a high shine. The smile on his face spoke volumes about his love for his daughter; more than words could ever express.
Her eyes filled with tears. It was the very last picture they had taken together. Less than 24 hours later, her father was killed. That was three years ago today and his killer still had not been found.
“Yeah, no, kind of. I don’t know. I just miss him so much,” she said.
Her mother walked over to her and put her arm around her shoulder. “I know. I miss him too.”
Kayla wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I better go or I’m going to be late.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Okay mom. Do you want anything before I come home?”
“I can’t think of anything. If I think of something I’ll either call or text you.”
Kayla nodded her head and turned to leave. At the door she hesitated. Turning back, she ran to her mother and gave her a big hug. “I love you mom.”
“And I love you back. Now go on before you have me all teary-eyed in here,” her mother laughed.
Kayla was born and raised in Lambert and she loved living there so much that she was completely content to spend the rest of her natural life there. That is until her father’s death. It had left her somewhat bitter and unsure about her future in Lambert.
Kayla was the Administrative Director at the Rightway Medical Center. At 28, she knew that this was quite an accomplishment. Fortunately for her, not only was she smart, but she had the best guidance counselor of all time in high school. Ms. Langley made sure that Kayla took every Advanced and Honors class possible and applied for every scholarship. She ensured that her community service hours were intact and that she stayed in dual enrollment throughout high school. The end result was that she finished high school with 30 credits toward the 60 she needed for her Associates in Business Administration. She also worked part-time all through high school and kept the same job during college. It was on the strength of Ms. Langley’s recommendation that she was offered the position at the Medical Center.
Kayla supervised a 30 member team and often worked well beyond a 40 hour work week. With no one to care for but herself and her mother, this was never a problem. It had never been her intention to place her career before marriage but she was smart enough to know a great opportunity when she saw one. She was also smart enough to know that whether she ever got married or not, being established career-wise could only be a huge benefit either way.
Kayla arrived at work with 10 minutes to spare. She walked slowly to her office, saying good morning to everyone she passed. She stopped briefly in the break room to grab a cup of coffee and a donut before continuing on to her office. As she arrived at her office she saw Anita, her assistant, organizing some papers. Anita looked up and smiled warmly.
“Morning boss,” she said.
“Morning, Anita. And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me boss?” Kayla gave her a fake evil-eye.
Anita just laughed and went back to her organizing. Kayla was Anita’s supervisor but their relationship went far beyond that of just boss and employee. They had hit it off from the very beginning. Kayla knew from the very first interview that Anita would be perfect for the position. Not only was she fully qualified and capable, but their connection was immediate.
With her caring spirit and mischievous ways, Anita had literally saved her. She rapidly found her way into the one small place in Kayla’s heart that wasn’t crusted over with despair and she stayed there. Like a parasite, she slowly ate away at all the darkly negative feelings that surrounded her heart until Kayla awoke one day and realized that the pain she had endured for so long suddenly seemed manageable. Anita once told her, “There’s always a light at the end of tunnel you just have to push through.” And Kayla had been pushing ever since.
“Do I have any pressing issues to deal with today, Anita?”
“So far you’re all clear.”
“Anita, we need to finish those budgets. Did you crunch the initial numbers yet?”
“Of course I did boss. Here they are.” Anita handed the folder to Kayla. “They’ve been checked and double-checked.”
“Thanks. Once this is finalized, we’re going to have to schedule a departmental meeting too.”
“I’m already on it. The memo with the proposed topics has already been drafted as well as a list of everyone required to attend. I’ve also checked the available dates for the conference room.”
That was Anita. Efficiency personified. She always seemed to know exactly what needed to be done and when. Kayla couldn’t ask for a better assistant. She also couldn’t ask for a better friend either. When Kayla lost her father, Anita went above and beyond to show her support. Not only did she help with the funeral arrangements but she had made herself available to Kayla any time of the day or night if she just wanted to talk. In truth, she loved Anita like a sister.
She dreaded the day when she was offered a better position; as her Supervisor she wouldn’t want her to go but as her friend, she would have to encourage her to reach for the stars. Anita was awesome at what she did and if another company offered her the opportunity to spread her wings and expand her potential, there was no way Kayla would stand in her way.
“Remind me to give you a raise.”
“Oh don’t worry, I will,” Anita said as she hurried off to complete her next project.
At the end of the day, Kayla gave her mother a quick call to let her know she was leaving work and to see if she wanted anything before she came home. As she walked through the underground garage to her car, she felt like she was being watched and felt a chill run up her spine. She
stopped and looked around. Seeing nothing, but unable to shake the feeling that she was not alone; she hurried to her car, got in and locked the doors. She looked around one last time, pulled out of her parking spot and left the garage.
As she raced up the ramp, a figure stepped out from behind one of the pillars and watched her go.
Chapter 2
On the ride home, Kayla kept looking nervously in the rearview mirror. Even though the parking garage was far in the distance, the feeling of unease still had not left her. She even took a round-a-bout way home just to make sure she wasn’t being followed. By the time she arrived home, she was laughing at herself and chalked it up to nerves. Her emotions had been running high all day because of the anniversary of her father’s murder. That and the fact that she and her mother were going back to the precinct to see what, if any, progress had been made in the case.
“Mom! I’m home,” Kayla called out as she entered the house.
“I’m in here,” her mother called from the kitchen.
Kayla went and stood in the kitchen doorway. She watched her mother as she bustled around the kitchen. Kayla knew her well enough to know that she was in the process of working off nervous energy. At 62, her mother was still a very attractive woman. She wasn’t very tall. She stood a diminutive 4’9” tall just 1” shorter than Kayla’s height of 4”10”. Her complexion was the color of café au lait with just a hint of cream. Her hazel and grey flecked almond-shaped eyes were framed by perfectly rounded eyebrows that she neither waxed nor plucked. Her lashes were curly, long and thick without a hint of mascara; her cheekbones high and proud. She had a perfectly shaped small, slightly upturned nose and full lips that were naturally rosy with a perfect cupid’s bow. Her auburn hair was streaked with silver and piled on top of her head in an elegant but messy bun. Her years as a professional dance instructor contributed to her trim and still athletic-looking figure. Many people thought that she and Kayla could pass for twins. The only real differences were their age and the fact that Kayla was just a little curvier.
MY FATHER'S KILLER: Kayla's Story Page 1
