by Emelia Blair
“Sometimes.” I shrug. “But I do far more for you than I do for anyone.”
“Because I’m your intern?”
I tuck my tongue in my cheek. “That and maybe I like you a little bit.”
She falls silent and then nudges me, her voice small. “Did you like the kiss?”
The question was so innocent and so her that I nod. “A little too much.”
“So, we’re going to forget about it?”
I wonder if I can ever forget the way her small body pressed against mine, fitting so perfectly.
When I don’t answer, she looks up at me, frowning. “Well?”
“It’s up to you, Halley.” I would love nothing more than to strip you here and now and put my mouth all over your body.
“Up to me?” she asks in confusion. “What if I don’t want to forget it? Would that mean you’ll kiss me again?”
“You kissed me,” I remind her, sadistically.
She flushes. “Jace!”
I have to swallow my chuckle, and I turn serious. “Look, Halley, I’ll be honest. I don’t do relationships. I don’t have the time for them. So, maybe—”
“Why not?”
I blink at this. “Why not, what?”
“Why don’t you have the time for them?”
I frown, a little disgruntled. “I have a career to build. It doesn’t leave me enough time to run after a woman.”
She stares at me like I’m stupid. “So, what, your twenty-year plan is to grow old in your job and then marry some grandma?”
“W-what? No!”
She shrugs. “Sure sounds like it.”
I splutter. “I’m going to get married soon!”
“Oh, yeah?” Halley looks smug. “To what exactly? I thought you didn’t have time to date.”
Why is she gaining the upper hand in a conversation that I was controlling? “I’ll make time at some point!”
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “When you’re fifty and grandma rolls in on her wheelchair.”
I fight the urge to strangle this mouthy little brat. “Either way,” I bite out. “I can’t offer you anything because I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment.”
She stares at me. “I don’t want to date you either. You’re no prize.”
Her blunt honesty throws me off and I can’t help but feel a bit insulted. “Fine. Good.”
When we end up in this weird silence, I finally force myself to say, “So, now what?”
She looks uncertain. “I liked the kiss but this was it I’m not—I mean, we’re not going to kiss anymore—again.”
There is such a naivety to this statement and it makes me wonder, looking like she does and with her friendly personality, how this woman has managed to escape the detection of any male. A part of me is reluctant but I nod. “Fine by me.”
This is going to be hell.
I tug at the blanket she’s tossed aside, and my injured pride makes me say, “Can I sleep now?”
“Yeah.”
I watch her get up and leave.
Telling myself this was my decision, I huddle in my blanket, feeling a little sulky at being rejected so openly.
I’m not that bad!
My eyes slide shut, and when they reopen, it’s to hear the police banging on the front door, wanting to question Halley on the death of Hashem Jameson.
6
Halley
Bundled up in my Tweety robe, I’m sitting on the couch, sleep deprived, with Jace standing next to me, his posture protective as he glares at the two detectives who are seated across from us.
“I’m telling you we left the office at around two thirty and we came straight here. You can check the time stamps at the office building garage and here as well.” Jace sounds angry.
Could it be because one of the detectives had straight out accused me of killing Hashem?
“I don’t even own a car,” I say.
The detective, David, who accused me or is trying to, looks to be in his mid thirties, while the other one next to him, Felix, a blonde, green-eyed man, is considerably younger and seems more pleasant.
“The officer is bringing up the files,” David says. “You can take a look at the pictures. But Miss Cooper, the person behind the wheel has red hair.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Plenty of people have red hair.”
The younger detective nods, gently. “That’s true, but at the same time, no one sharing that particular characteristic has gotten into a harassment dispute with the victim.” He shoots a sharp look at his companion, and adds, “We’re not accusing you of anything at the moment. This is just a regular interview. The accident took place at three thirty in the morning. We just have to verify your whereabouts—”
A knock on the door has me looking up and I jump to my feet, “Cam!”
Cameron, my childhood friend, is standing there, dressed in an officer uniform, and he looks worried. “I brought the security tapes and the files. It’s going to be all right, Halley.”
Both detectives frown, and David barks, “You know this woman, White?”
Cameron nods. “She’s a friend.”
Felix purses his lips. “You didn’t say anything about this when we mentioned her name at the accident.”
My stomach sinks as I see the guilt on Cameron’s face.
“Sorry, Detective. I’ve known Halley for a long time. I just know she doesn’t have anything to do with it. I didn’t want to be kicked off the case.”
A strange expression crosses the detective’s face as something seems to click in his mind, and he murmurs, “Halley Cooper. No wonder the name was so familiar.”
“What?” His companion barks out.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Give me the file.”
Seeing Jace shift, I glance towards him and catch him staring at my friend, his brow furrowed.
The younger detective opens the file and hands me a photo.
Jace takes it before forcing me to sit down and seating himself next to me.
The moment my eyes land on the picture, my breath catches and I feel a pounding in my head. It’s a dark picture at a traffic light but the blue sedan in it is quite clear and the red hair is distinguishable.
My face is white as my hand reaches out, blindly to clutch at Jace’s wrist.
“Miss Cooper.” Felix’s voice is sharp.
Cameron says, alarmed, “Halley?”
I ignore both of them, staring at the car that is so familiar to me. Even with the bad quality of the picture, I know that there is a large scratch on the driver’s door, and that the lid of the trunk doesn’t close properly. I curl my fingers around Jace’s wrist, squeezing, as memories blind me.
“Halley.” His voice is firm and steady and I grasp on to it.
My lower lip trembles as I lift my gaze to Cameron’s. My voice is hoarse as I ask, “You don’t recognize the car?”
Cameron frowns. “What?” He strides over to look at it and then he freezes, shock in his eyes. “How is this possible?”
“What is it?!” Both detectives demand.
I swallow heavily, trying to bury the grief, which is thick in my throat. “This is my mother’s car.”
Jace stiffens next to me. “What?”
I nod, not noticing how my fingers are digging into his arm as my jaw tenses.
Could it be true?
“Miss Cooper, your mother has been legally declared dead. No one has seen her in years. You know that.”
Felix’s gentle words wash over me like a bucket of cold water.
“Halley, are you sure this is your mother’s car?” Jace asks, his voice tense.
I nod, dumbly. It takes me a few seconds to get my voice working. “It is her car. I—The car was never found, but here it is, fourteen years later, and the driver’s red hair…?” Hope fills my heart, as I look at Jace. “What if it’s her? What if she’s been alive all this time and she’s come back for me?” However, even as I speak the words, it hits me that the car and the dri
ver have been involved in a deliberate hit and run.
According to the traffic cam footage, the parked Sedan had hit Hashem as he had been crossing the road. It had stopped for a second and then driven in reverse over the injured man, before speeding off somewhere.
Jace takes the picture from me.
My hands are shaking. “My mom wasn’t a violent person. She was—She didn’t even like to kill the spiders in our home. She would trap them in glasses and release them outside.” My voice is quivering. “She couldn’t have done this.”
“How do we know you’re not making this up?” David demands. “This car—?”
“It’s been fourteen years, Sir,” Cameron interrupts him, his face a little pale. “I can testify to that. Lily Cooper disappeared along with her car. She took a bag of clothes and made a large withdrawal from her bank the day before she disappeared.”
I remember the police telling me the same thing but I can’t recall anything aside from my mother putting me to bed the night they told me she took me and ran.
It’s as if someone erased a portion of my memory.
All I remember is the way she tucked me in that night, pressing her warm lips to my forehead. She had stroked my hair, lovingly, before leaving the room, the nightlight on.
My free hand goes to my forehead as if to capture the ghost of the lingering warmth of her lips and my chest tightens at the memory.
“I read about your case a while back, when I was in the academy,” Felix tells me, softly. “Miss Cooper, we cannot rule out your mother being alive but according to the evidence gathered, your mother never left Chesapeake city. There was a door-to-door manhunt for her. The last person to see her alive was you and you never recovered your memory of those few days.” He leans forward toward me.
I can feel the way Jace’s arm slides around my waist, hauling me into him, and I draw comfort from his presence for some reason.
Felix meets my gaze, his own serious. “You were examined by a few doctors who said that the trauma of your experience had made you suppress your memories. The detective in charge of your case assumed that maybe something happened to your mother and you witnessed it.”
I shake my head and point shakily at the picture. “Then how do you explain the red hair?”
He doesn’t answer.
“It could have been you—?”
“Did I do something to offend you, Sir?!” I turn to the older detective, suddenly furious. “You’ve been accusing me of killing a man when I don’t even know how to drive nor was I in the area! It’s like you just want me to be guilty!”
Detective David’s face grows red.
Jace’s arm tightens around me as he scowls. “I think you’ve stirred up enough waters for today. If you have no more questions for Halley, you should leave!”
“Who are you?” Cameron finally seems to register Jace’s presence as a suspicious one.
I see the surge of protectiveness flare up in his eyes and note the way Jace is holding me. “This is my boss, Jace. Mia must have—?”
“Oh.” Cameron stares hard at Jace, who looks back, indifferently. “Do you always sleep with your interns?”
“Cameron!” The shout comes from two different directions.
I glance at Felix, who has echoed my own cry of outrage.
Chastised by his superior, Cameron shuts up but glares at my boss, making me feel the need to defend him. “Jace lives in my building and he got locked out last night. He wanted to go get his keys but I offered to let him sleep on the couch.”
“Awfully convenient.” Detective David sneers. “I know about your history with Hashem, too. You’re just as much of a suspect—”
“Take a walk, David!” Felix growls, and for the first time, I see the young detective lose his cool.
Grumbling, David shoots both me and Jace a hateful look before marching out.
Sighing, Felix stands up. “I apologize for that. David and Hashem were old friends. He’s lashing out.”
My head is throbbing with all that has happened and I sink into Jace.
He responds by tightening his arms around my waist. His voice is firm as he asks, “Is Halley a suspect?”
Felix gives both of us a rueful smile.
“For now, we’re just questioning people. We need to investigate who the driver of the car is. I find it hard to believe that it’s your mother, Miss Cooper but…”
I try to quell the fluttering in my chest and my lips curve in a brave smile that is wobbly. “But you don’t want to give me false hope.”
Because that would mean my mother is a murderer.
Felix nods, and as he moves towards the door, he pauses, and then looks over his shoulder at me, a strange expression on his face. “What about your birth father, Miss Cooper?”
I blink. “I don’t know him. I don’t even know who he is.”
“Your mother never mentioned him?”
I shake my head, feeling hollow.
Felix’s voice is quiet and thoughtful as he says, “So, you wouldn’t know if he had red hair?”
His words shock me, and I reel with the impact of them.
He doesn’t let me say anything else, excusing himself with an, “I’ll be in touch.”
Cameron, however, lingers in the doorway, glowering at Jace, before shooting me a look that tells me I’ll be pestered with a million and one questions afterwards. “I’ll come by after work.”
Once he leaves, I get to my feet, escaping Jace’s hold, and start pacing, trying to sort through my thoughts and emotions.
There is pity for the dead man, relief that there is enough evidence the police won’t be looking my way, shock over the fact that my mother’s missing car has reappeared after all these years, hope that my mother may be alive after all these years.
But why would she target Hashem?
Detective Felix had said that Hashem had been leaving a bar he frequented and he had been drunk.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear Jace calling my name till he growls, “Halley!”
I nearly jump out of my skin. “What?”
He’s still sitting on the couch, watching me. “Are you all right?”
I stare at him for a few seconds, blankly, before my shoulders sag, and I mumble, wearily, “I don’t know.”
“Come on. Sit.” He’s out of his seat and dragging me towards the armchair before I know it. Forcing me to sit, he perches on the coffee table, and just waits.
Sure enough, I finally break the silence, “You think it could be my mom?” My voice is small.
“Do you think it is?” He counters.
I twist my hands, confused, desperate, trying not to lose the small ember of hope burning in my chest. “Would it be that impossible?” I whisper. “Maybe she missed me and started looking for me.” However, even as the words leave my lips, I know how foolish they sound. Why would she abandon me only to track me down and kill somebody who talked to me for a total of two minutes?
“It could be,” Jace says, slowly.
I stare at him, surprised.
He meets my gaze, seriously. “Or it could be someone who’s trying to mess with you.”
“Why would anybody…?” I trail off, unable to follow his line of reasoning.
“Do you stand to inherit anything or have you inherited something?”
The question throws me off guard. “I-Inherit?” I stammer, surprised. “No. Mom never had any property. I mean, I got the house once they declared her to be legally dead. But Uncle Raymond handled everything on my behalf. There was no money or anything. The house is also still there. I never sold it.”
I never returned to it, either.
“I see…” Jace sounds thoughtful.
I rub my hands over my face, suddenly feeling worn out. “I need to get some sleeping pills.”
“Nightmares?” Jace asks, his tone a little too casual.
I hesitate, before replying, slowly, “Yeah. Sometimes.”
He doesn’t say anything, just gets up
and walks into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” I call out, annoyed by how easily he’s moving in my apartment as if it is his own.
“I was woken up, interviewed by the police, all without my morning coffee.”
I hear the sounds of mugs clinking from the kitchen.
“So, I’m making myself some coffee.”
Unable to help myself, I follow the sounds and find myself sitting at the kitchen table, watching my potty mouth boss cracking eggs into a bowl. “That’s not coffee.”
“Your powers of deduction are truly frightening,” he says, dryly.
“You know, it’s very rude to walk into someone’s home and take over their kitchen,” I point out idly. I’m handed an onion, along with a knife and chopping board.
“Then make yourself useful.”
“You’re not my boss,” I complain, even as I start chopping the onion.
His back to me, Jace says, pleasantly, “Shut up, Halley.”
“You also can’t tell me to shut up in my own home,” I tell him, a little gleefully.
“Fine. Stop talking, Halley.”
Grumbling, I push the chopped onions to one side and then rest my chin on my folded arms. “Your Head of Department is dead. Shouldn’t you be more upset?”
Jace pauses where he is whisking the eggs before he turns around to empty the onions into the egg batter. “Hashem was a bastard.”
“Some people say you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”
“Those people are morons,” Jace retorts, harshly. “I never wished the man dead, but I’m not going to grieve for a monster. In my opinion, he got off too lightly. He should have spent years in prison.” He looks over his shoulder at me. “You should also watch out for that Detective David. No friend of Hashems can be a good man.”
“My uncle used to be friends with him.”
Used to be, considering how he had turned his back on him after Hashem harassed me.
“Raymond is the one exception.”
The smell of eggs being fried permeates the room, blending in with the soothing aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Jace brings the breakfast to the table.
I just watch him. Why does it look like he belongs here?
Any other man, I would be chasing out, but him, this grouchy, foul tempered man who can be gentle at times, who taunts me mercilessly at times, and then takes care of me with such tenderness… him, I like watching move around my kitchen.
