“Why would they do that?”
“Because the person wanted something I was not prepared to give.”
“And what was it that he wanted?”
“She wanted me to sleep with her, and I am not in the habit of sleeping with the people I work with in such situations. It can be deadly.”
“I see,” was all that Chelsea said. But her mind kept working on that one. Was he giving her some sort of a signal? She wasn’t sure, but she would certainly bear it in mind.
“Now you have heard about me, is there anything I should know about you?” Dean was smiling at her in an enigmatic manner.
“No, there isn’t. Well, I mean, I don’t think there is anything else you need to know about me.”
“Well, that means I won’t know much then. We don’t just have to know each other at work… there’s life beyond that…”
“I don’t see any reason for getting into that...,” her usual defensiveness kicked in.
“So you never get personal with any of your co-workers?”
“I have never had any reason to do so.”
“Well, mightn’t you have reason now?” He was looking at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.
“Why do you say that?”
“Come on Chelsea…don’t be coy… you must know that my interest in you goes beyond work.”
She could not help it as a blush spread all over her face, and her heart was beating erratically.
“I have always thought it was best to keep my personal life separate from work and…and…,” she stammered, not knowing what else to say.
“Why, Chelsea?”
“Because the people I tend to get attached to always seem to end up getting hurt.” There. It was out and it was like a great burden had just been lifted off her shoulders.
Dean looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry you have been hurt so badly, Chelsea, that you’re afraid to trust again. Is it because of your parents that you think like this?”
“No. It happened with a friend, too.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
His voice was calm and comforting. His dark brown eyes showed that he really seemed to care. She hesitated, but then gave in.
“It was during my junior year in high school and I was living in one of those wretched foster homes where nobody cared. There was a boy, Michael, who had an abusive mom while his father was away someplace overseas, unaware of what was happening. We were drawn to each other and became good friends, always looking out for each other.
Of course, the other kids at school always teased and bullied us because we were wards of the state. Sometimes it would make me so mad, I felt like wiping out the whole bunch. But this particular girl, Yasmine, and her friends had it in for Michael. They made his life miserable and one day they beat him up and pushed him down the stairs.
Unfortunately, he hit his head and lapsed into a coma, just at the time when his father found out where he was and had come to take him home. I was filled with rage and so one day I waylaid Yasmine so I could get her alone, and I beat her within an inch of her life. I don’t take kindly to someone hurting the ones I love.”
“So you are one kick-ass woman who does not go down without a fight, and you seem bent on getting back at those who hurt you.”
Chelsea was not sure if he was making a statement or admiring her for what she had done. But it didn’t matter.
A waitress brought them the menu, took their order for drinks and left.
“Do you ever regret what you did?”
“No,” she said evenly. “I probably should, but she took away my only friend and someone’s son. She deserved what she got.”
They were silent for a moment as the waitress brought their drinks and took the rest of their order. She let Dean choose from the menu since he knew the different dishes. He ordered the same for the two of them.
“Well, well, Chelsea Preston, you’re quite a woman. I certainly would not want to be your enemy.”
“Madden please. I hope you understand better why I became a cop and why solving my parents’ murder is so important to me.”
“I do, and if you’ll accept my offer, I’d still like to help you.”
The time went by quickly as they discussed the ins and outs of the Thompson case and what else they needed to do in trying to bring everything together.
The food was hot and spicy but delicious, and as they got ready to leave, Chelsea could not remember feeling so good for a long time. Dean was turning out to be a real friend—someone she could talk to and unburden herself to, without feeling self-conscious. This might be part of what she had been missing all these years; keeping everything bottled up inside, refusing to come out of her shell or to let anyone get near.
Chapter 8
As they were leaving the restaurant, she had the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. She glanced around, but no one stood out. Maybe it was her imagination. But that did not make her feel any less edgy. Criminals were good at concealing themselves in public. They acted like regular people when, in reality, they were not. They were masters of disguise and knew how to trail a person, unseen and undetected.
Noticing her edginess, Dean asked, “Is everything all right?”
Giving him a somewhat embarrassed look, she said, “Yes. I just…never mind. I’m fine… really,” she lied.
As they approached the car, she heard her phone ringing. Fishing it out of her pocket, she noticed that it was a blocked call.
Remembering the threatening call she had received in the morning, she hesitated, then answered in her most belligerent voice.
“What do you want?” she barked.
“Someone is just a little too tense, wouldn’t you say? I would suspect someone on a date would be a little calmer and probably happy.”
Immediately, she swung around, scanning the street and the faces of people passing by. Perhaps he was in a car across the street.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
She remained silent.
“I want you to back off this case. Ashlee Thompson died because she did what your parents did.”
This touched a nerve. “My parents were upstanding citizens and would never have associated with scum like you.”
She listened as he chuckled on the other end of the line. “You never really knew your parents then, did you? Do me a favor Preston, stay away from the Ashlee Thompson case.”
“No. I won’t.”
“That is fine then. Your choice. I do hope you enjoy the present I left you in your apartment. Just know I can get to you as easily as I got in. Again, I’m warning you, back of the Thompson case. If you don’t, you’re likely to end up like your parents. You’d better listen to what Justin Quincy said to you today!”
Chelsea was shaking, but tried to put on a brave front.
“I will find you, you creep! You can’t hide forever, I won’t back off and I’m not afraid of you!”
“You should be. Your parents certainly were. If you proceed, it will be your funeral, not mine,” he said, and with a click the phone went dead.
She turned and nearly collapsed against Dean’s arm. Her face was deathly pale and her she was trembling.
“What is the matter, Chelsea?”
“Have the Department to send a SWAT team to my apartment, fast, I think something has happened or is about to.”
Noting the condition she was in, Dean took over the driving and when they arrived, the SWAT team and several other police cars were already on the scene.
Chelsea felt numb with fear not knowing what they would find. From the parking lot she could see her apartment was open and Pierce was coming out, holding an evidence bag. He came downstairs where, too weak to go up the stairs, she was still seated in the car.
“Can you tell me what is going on here, Chelsea?” his face was grim.
“What is that you’re holding?” she asked
.
He showed it to her. Her heart leaped as she recognized her old stuffed teddy bear. She had not seen him for years and she remembered how she used to cuddle with him at night, especially when she was afraid.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Dean said.
“What is the significance of this bear?”
“He was my favorite stuffed animal when I was a child. He has been missing since the day of my parents’ murder.” She shivered as she remembered finding her parents’ bloody bodies.
“Who gave this to you?” Pierce asked, perhaps a little too harshly.
Searching her memory, she recalled that her teddy had not been a gift from either of her parents. Her teddy had come with a bouquet of flowers on her fifth birthday.
“Isaac Welsh. He is my uncle.”
Pierce nodded and he clenched his jaw. “I need you to follow me upstairs.”
Hesitantly, she got out of the car and slowly followed him up the stairs, fearing what she would find. On entering the apartment, she gasped at the sight of the body stretched out on the carpet and with blood everywhere. It reminded her of her parents’ bodies and she felt like throwing up.
“Do you know who this is?”
She could only nod her head.
“And what about the message on the wall, does it mean anything?” he asked, as he led her into the dining room.
The message on the formerly blank wall read: Blood is thicker than water. It was written in blood.
She nearly collapsed and leaned heavily on Pierce. Her mind was in a mad whir. What exactly was happening here? Who had done this? Why would they kill a man and leave him in her apartment?
Noticing her condition, Pierce took charge.
“Chelsea, we are taking you back to the station immediately,” he said.
“As a cop or as a suspect?”
“As a suspect, until we get to the bottom of this.”
“But Pierce, you know I would never do something like this. You have known me for six years.”
“Chelsea there is something else going on here. A murder took place in your apartment. We need to do this by the books, and maybe after that we can discuss anything else. Plus, it is for your own safety.”
With a deep sigh, she agreed and went downstairs with him willingly.
Chapter 9
Sitting in the same interrogation room—where only hours earlier she had been questioning Quincy—felt very odd. Now, she was facing interrogation, only under less hostile conditions. Strange, how quickly things can change.
This was absurd—her being a murder suspect, although she understood the need for them to process her like anyone else. As she sat there waiting to be questioned, something kept tugging at her memory. It had to do with the teddy bear found at the scene that they had brought along as evidence.
From the night of her parents’ murder, she had difficulty remembering anything to do with her childhood, and most of all that night. Sometimes she would remember fragments, but they were shrouded in a kind of mist. But something about the brown teddy bear was coming back.
At that moment Pierce walked into the room. He took the seat on the opposite side of the table.
“Chelsea, there are a few questions I am going to ask you, and you are going to have to answer honestly.”
“Of course,” she said, folding her arms protectively across her chest.
“You were born to Micah Charles Preston and Eileen Olivia Welsh-Preston on April 22nd, 1988 is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And your birth name was Chelsea Marie Preston?”
“Yes.”
“It says here when you were sixteen you assaulted a girl in your school. This would suggest that you are capable of violence.”
She didn’t answer that one. Let him figure it out. Yasmine had caused the death of her friend, and nothing came of it. Somebody had to do something and since no one did, she took it on singlehandedly.
“Do you know the man who was murdered in your apartment?”
“No. And you know I had nothing to do with it since I’ve been at work all day.”
“Quite true, but I still have to ask. Do you really want to know the name of the man?”
She nodded.
“Austin De Leon, and he is the son of a man who died years ago. Any guess to who that is?”
“Emilio De Leon, one of the most powerful men in Mexico. Are you telling me that Austin Rodriquez is Austin De Leon?”
“Yes. His father was declared dead in the explosion of a yacht over three years ago. He was pronounced dead on the basis of forensic evidence at the explosion site, but no dead body was found. Rumor has it that he is still alive, hidden away somewhere. Are you starting to see the connection?”
“No, I am not following.”
“Your uncle, Isaac Welsh, was one of Emilio De Leon’s drug runners. And you know that he is serving a life sentence for murder and drug trafficking.”
She knew her uncle was in prison, but she had no idea of the details nor of his involvement with drugs.
“You’re telling me that I am somehow connected to all this?”
“Yes, although I don’t know why Emilio De Leon would murder your parents.”
Chelsea remembered the threatening phone calls she had received earlier in the day. And now she was learning that Emilio De Leon might still be alive.
“He kept you alive all those years ago and you should wonder why.”
This has always puzzled her. Why did whoever kill her parents not kill her too? She was in the same house, her door was unlocked, and she was only a child. She could not have resisted them.
Her childhood memory of the teddy bear became clearer, but she had to be sure.
“Can I go visit my uncle in prison?” she asked.
“Does it have something to do with the case?”
“Yes, but I can’t tell you now, until I’m certain.”
“Fine, we’ll arrange for you to go tomorrow,” Pierce told her.
“Okay. But where am I going to stay tonight?” She could not go back to her apartment based on the condition it was in. Furthermore, it was now a crime scene.
“We have a guest room at my place.”
“So, I am no longer a suspect?”
“You never really were. And we have evidence that someone else was at your apartment. Plus we have a dirty cop somewhere, so we have to be careful and make it seem like you are under suspicion. It would make you less vulnerable.”
This made sense. She had forgotten that part. Someone was feeding her enemies information about what was happening in the police department. She wondered who that could be.
“Maybe I should just stay at the station tonight and start looking into some of these things,” she suggested. Things were beginning to fall into place, although she still could not see the connection with Ashlee Thompson.
“Not on your life. And you’re too tired to be productive. C’mon, Chelsea, stop being stubborn.” Pierce’s voice brooked no argument.
She gave in and followed him meekly to the car. Her mind was still in a whirl, but she could feel her eyelids drooping. It had been a long and difficult day. The soothing hum of the car did not help. Soon she was falling asleep. One last though flashed across her mind.
“Where is Dean?” she asked.
But she did not hear the answer. She had drifted off to sleep while Pierce was explaining.
Chapter 10
The back alley smelled of sewage and rotting food, and flies were buzzing about as he waited patiently for his contact. Part of him felt like leaving while the other part wanted to stay and see it through. He was torn in two directions. Should he follow his head which kept on insisting he do what he had committed to doing, or should he follow his heart which was telling him otherwise? It would be a deadly choice, either way.
As he halted between the two options, he saw a silhouette appear in the distance, walki
ng toward him. The person approached, hat pulled down to hide his face, a thick scarf around his neck, and the collar of his coat standing up. Obviously, he did not want to be recognized.
“What now?”
“Your boss sent me to ask if you have forgotten your mission.”
“Not for a moment. The trap is well oiled, just waiting to be sprung.”
“It had better be because if you fail you know what will happen, don’t you?”
“Of that I am fully aware. Now, just tell me when is it supposed to take place?”
“Two days from now. Getting to her will be easy enough, given how predictable she is in her behavior.”
The man was moving away already, then turned, saying, “Remember, if you change your mind we’ll find you. There will be no place to hide.”
He waited until the messenger had completely disappeared before he left the alley. He had made a deal with the devil over six months ago, and at that time it had meant nothing to him. This was his way of life, but now for the first time he was feeling differently. But trying to back out now would cause his death. The people he was dealing with were ruthless and did not take kindly to betrayal. He would have to see it through, although something deep within was saying he could never go through with it.
Back on the main road, he looked up at the beautiful moon hanging in the sky, and remembered how it once felt to not care for anyone but himself—to be just selfish and heartless. But now he felt he could not be like that any longer. He was beginning to see himself differently, as someone who could love and care for another person. What he was becoming was something more than he ever thought he could be. He wondered if he could face the consequences of disobeying the order of his boss. Was he willing to lay down his life for another? That was the question.
Chapter 11
Chelsea woke up to find herself lying under thick quilt, it was warm and comfy. For the first time in days she had slept right through the night, without waking up or having any nightmares. She felt refreshed.
Sitting up quickly, she remembered where she was—at Pierce’s house. All the events of the day before came tumbling back. Only she had no memory of coming into the house and she wondered if Pierce had carried her inside. The thought brought back memories of her childhood when her dad would do the same. However, now it was embarrassing, considering the fact that she was twenty-six years old. No one should have to carry her anywhere—she was self-sufficient—or at least she wanted to be.
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