by Stacy-Deanne
Penelope stared at her.
“But after over thirty years of marriage, raising four sons, and feeling alone the entire time it all started to break me. I loved being a wife and mother but I wanted to be a woman again. That was the one thing that was missing.” Carolyn let go of the pendant. “So when I started chatting online it was innocent at first. I met a man who’d recently lost his wife to diabetes and he was just as lonely as I was.”
Alexis jotted what Carolyn said.
Carolyn clasped her hands. “The more we chatted the more we realized how much in common we had. Soon I’d grown attached to him. We were exchanging pictures. It was just innocent pictures of ourselves and then we got so close we started talking about our children.” She smiled. “I couldn’t wait to brag about all my boys.”
King scowled at his mother, his face turning redder by the second.
Carolyn’s face held a dreamy expression. “He has two daughters and we even said how wonderful it would be for the kids to meet.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” King muttered.
Carolyn’s smile relaxed. “You see, our relationship grew from being about us to being about our families and even our pasts. We told each other things we felt that we couldn’t tell anyone else. We’d get so happy just to hear from each other each day.” Carolyn turned to Alexis and Penelope. “He could say the simplest thing and it would make me smile all day.”
“I know what you mean.” Alexis thought of Kevin.
“He was concerned for me. He asked me about me and no one ever did that.” Carolyn glanced at King. “We developed an overwhelming attraction for one another and after that we couldn’t go back.” She closed her eyes. “But it wasn’t just the physical longing.” She laid her hand to her cheek. “It was the longing of finding someone else on this earth that understood us. When we talked it was like we were the only two people in the world.”
“God,” King whispered. “You’re in love with this man aren’t you? You love him.”
Alexis studied Carolyn’s expression.
“Yes.” Carolyn looked at the detectives. “I do love this man. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that a message asking a stranger how he was doing would lead to feeling a love I haven’t felt in over thirty years.”
“So you didn’t love Dad anymore?” King whispered.
“Of course I did.” A tear fell down Carolyn’s cheek. “But I hadn’t been in love with Brett in a long time. I didn’t realize that until I met Alastair.”
“Did you kill your husband?” Alexis asked.
“No. I can prove I was out of town and that I got back when I said. The trip to Belize was so I could meet Alastair.”
“Alastair.” King scrunched up his face.
“He’s been living in Belize for about twelve years.” Carolyn smiled. “Has the most beautiful cottage that he built himself.”
“You’ve been consulting with Alastair online for two years and Brett had no idea?” Penelope asked.
“If he did he never told me.” Carolyn caressed her hand. “Or he just didn’t care. I felt guilty the longer I stayed in Belize. It felt right to be with Alastair but not in that way.” She avoided her son’s glare. “He wanted to make love.”
“Oh God.” King touched his stomach and grimaced.
“But I refused.” Carolyn paced. “Yes, I wanted him but I didn’t want to cheat on Brett.”
“You were already cheating on him,” King muttered.
“I didn’t feel right about being in Belize anymore. I told Alastair I needed to get things straight so we could be together.” She looked at the detectives. “He understood and told me he’d be waiting for me to return. I was determined to tell Brett the truth when I got back. It was the only thing on my mind on the way home.”
“I don’t believe this,” King said. “You were going to leave Dad for a man you met online and have only known two years? Have you lost your mind?”
“No.” She wiped a tear. “I’d found my heart. I couldn’t lie anymore. Not to Brett or myself.” She looked up and sighed. “I loved Brett and I never would’ve hurt him.”
“You should’ve told us this from the beginning,” Penelope said. “We know you were gone. We already checked it out but you could’ve had someone kill him.”
“No!” Carolyn dropped her arms to her sides. “Why would I kill Brett? I wanted to get a divorce, that’s why I wanted to tell him the truth. I had no reason to want him dead. I didn’t have ill feelings for Brett. I just wanted to be happy.”
“But you had ill feelings toward him.” Alexis looked at King. “And you also lied to us. You weren’t with Pete when your father was killed, were you? At least not the entire time.”
“What?” Carolyn gaped. “King?”
He moved from side to side, rubbing his face.
“What is she talking about?” Carolyn grabbed him by the arms. “Did you leave Pete’s that night? Where were you, King?”
“Pete’s lying!” He broke from Carolyn’s hold and rushed toward Alexis. “I was with him all night at his place.”
“Bullshit,” Alexis said.
“He said you left and were gone quite a while.” Penelope asked, “Why would Pete lie?”
King turned toward her. “I don’t know.” He gripped his head. “I—”
“King,” Penelope said. “Stop it, all right? Pete said you were at his house but you left around nine-thirty.”
“Fuck!” He hit his forehead.
“He said you came back to his place at around midnight,” Alexis said. “He said you were sweating, shaking…and you had blood on your T-shirt.”
“Where were you?” Carolyn flung him around and shook him. “You tell them and you tell me.” She yanked his shirt. “Say something!”
“Okay!” He pulled away from Carolyn. “Yes, I left Pete’s and I came here.”
Carolyn covered her mouth.
“I didn’t kill my father.” He shook his hands out to the detectives. “I swear and I can explain.”
“Well.” Alexis straightened up in the chair. “We’re listening.”
Penelope raised an eyebrow. “And it better be damn good.”
Chapter Eighteen
King knelt down and rocked. “I came over here to make amends. It was killing me how things ended up between my father and me.” He put his fist to his mouth. “We used to be so close. He was my best friend.”
“What did you do?” Carolyn’s voice shook.
“I missed being close to him.” He wiped a tear. “I came here to tell him that no matter what had happened between us, I still loved him.” He put his hand over his face. “But he didn’t want anything to do with me.” He sobbed heavier. “He answered the door, ranting and raving.”
Alexis jotted what he said.
“He was shouting and cursing. He said things to me you wouldn’t say to your worst enemy.”
Carolyn shook her head.
“The more he insulted me the angrier I got.” He stood. “It just boiled up inside of me and I couldn’t control it. Then he said something unforgiveable. Something you shouldn’t ever say to your child.”
“What?” Penelope asked.
“He said he wished I was dead.” Tears streamed down his face. “Do you believe that?” He pulled at his shirt. “My father told me that he hated me and wished I was dead!”
Carolyn parted her lips but nothing came out.
“Who would do that?” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Who would tell their own child that they wished he was dead? I can’t tell you…” he raised his shaky hand, “…how mad I was at that moment. I mean I literally saw red.”
“So what happened?” Penelope asked.
“I hit him.” King licked tears from his lips. “I hit him with all the strength I had before I realized it. Then he hit me and we ended up fighting in the living room.”
“God,” Carolyn whispered.
“At that moment I hated him as much as he said he hated
me.” He rubbed his knuckles. “I got on top of him and I kept punching him and punching him and then the phone rang and I stopped.” He gazed in space. “It was like a light had gone off and I came back to my senses.” He stepped back. “He was lying on the floor, screaming and holding his nose.” King looked down at his shirt. “His nose was bleeding and blood was all over my shirt.”
“You beat your father?” Alexis whispered.
He turned his back to them and walked into the grass. “He told me to never set foot in this house again and I left.”
Alexis stared at him. “So when exactly did you beat him with the hammer?”
Carolyn stared at King.
He wobbled as he turned around. “What?”
Penelope made a sucking noise with her tongue. “Everything you just told us was another lie wasn’t it?”
“No.” He moved out of the grass and to Carolyn. “Mom, I’m not lying.”
“Stop it, King.” Alexis stood. “We know the truth now okay? Pete told us that you said you killed your father with a hammer.”
“No.” He gripped his head and rocked. “No! He’s lying!”
“Lying?” Alexis got in his face. “I don’t think so. We found a bloody hammer in a dumpster not far from here.”
“Oh my God.” Carolyn bent over.
“We haven’t gotten the results back on the DNA and prints yet,” Penelope said. “But it’s too much of a coincidence if you ask me.”
“No one but the police knows that Brett was killed with a hammer,” Alexis said. “So are we supposed to believe that Pete is lying and he happened to make up the same damn weapon that was used to kill your father?”
“Yes!” King jumped up and down. “I didn’t kill my father.”
“So why would Pete say you did?” Penelope asked. “What reason would he have to lie?”
“I don’t know!” He waved his arms. “But I’m telling the truth!” He grabbed Penelope. “Please believe me.”
“I’m sorry, King.” Alexis took out her handcuffs. “We don’t.”
* * * *
Alexis walked down the dark hall of Copeland Enterprises. She stopped at the only office with the light on and the parted door.
She took a deep breath and knocked.
Kevin looked up from his computer, sighed, and continued typing.
“Hey.” She cleared her throat. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t know,” he spoke in a dry tone. “Can you?”
“Working late, huh?” She walked in. “I went to your place and saw your car gone so I figured you were still here.” She clasped her hands. “Guess I was right.”
“What do you want, Alexis?” He kept his attention on the monitor.
She walked to his desk and picked up the white mug. “We arrested King Myers today.”
“What?”
She turned the mug upside down. “We have reason to believe he killed his father.” She set the mug down.
He scooted from the computer.
She scanned the items on the desk. “His friend told us that King admitted to killing his father.”
Kevin’s mouth hung open.
“The friend even knew the murder weapon.” She picked up the electric pencil sharpener. “Only the killer would know that.”
“Jesus.” Kevin glanced at his desk with furrowed brows. “I knew the falling out between Brett and King was bad but I didn’t think he’d really kill his dad.”
“Of course he lawyered up when we got him down to the station.” She walked across the office and stopped at the huge window. She watched the car lights as people drove down the dark street. “We’re still waiting on the results from the hammer we found.”
“Hammer?”
“We found a bloody hammer not far from the Myers estate.”
“So King is the one who videotaped me and sent it to you?”
She moved from the window. “I guess so.”
His sympathetic expression hardened. “So why are you here?” He scooted back to his computer. “Did you come to apologize for calling me a murderer?”
“Yes.” She walked to the desk. “I’m sorry for accusing you.”
He shook his head while typing. “Weak-ass apology.”
“Look, I am sorry okay?” She sat on the edge of the desk. “But can you blame me for thinking it? When I saw that video…what was I supposed to think?”
“You were supposed to trust me and believe that I wasn’t a killer.”
“But you didn’t tell me the truth.”
“I know that.” He moved his hands from the keyboard. “But with the connection we have and the feelings we have for each other…you should’ve just known, Lexi.”
Chapter Nineteen
“You can’t blame me for the actions I took,” she said. “I’m a detective. You expect me to go on feelings when I’m investigating a murder?”
He went back to typing.
“Look, I was wrong and I apologize but you never would’ve been accused if you’d been honest with me from the beginning.”
“Man!” He slammed his hands on the keyboard. “I don’t get you at all. You just don’t care how you treat people do you?”
She jerked back, almost falling off his desk. “What does that mean?”
“You don’t understand how much it hurt when you accused me of killing Brett do you?”
“Yes and I’m sorry, but I don’t see how I did anything wrong.”
“I bet you don’t.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “No one can ever blame you for anything because you’re perfect. Whenever you hurt people or treat people like shit it’s for a good reason, isn’t it? You never lie or do anything wrong on purpose.”
“You’re the victim now?” She moved off the desk. “I get that you’re upset with me but I think any reasonable person would’ve thought you killed Brett too.”
“You didn’t even try to trust me.”
She laughed. “You didn’t tell me you were at Brett’s the night of his murder!” She stood beside his desk. “Can you blame—”
“Yes I can blame you!” He jumped up and stood in front of her.
She moved back.
“I very much can blame you because this isn’t about trusting me, it’s about you being afraid.”
“Oh really?” She pointed to her chest. “What am I afraid of?”
“You’re afraid of getting too close to me.” He leaned on the desk. “You’re afraid of having to finally face those feelings you’ve had for me all these years. I’m betting that’s the real reason you stayed gone. I’ve never met a person so scared yet so strong in my life.”
“What do you mean?” She caught a hint of his cologne and her nipples automatically jumped at attention.
“When you’re doing your cop thing, no one can touch you. You’re so strong and determined. But when it comes to your personal life you’re as vulnerable as a little girl.” He tilted his head. “It’s like you’re sheltered when it comes to dealing with emotions and your heart.”
She rolled her eyes. “Boy you and Penelope could give Dr. Phil a run for his money.”
He pointed. “I think you wanted me to be the killer.”
“What?” she shrieked. “You’re losing it.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Because it would’ve let you off the hook. If I’d been the killer then you wouldn’t have to finally commit to me.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was to commit to you. I told you that the moment we reconnected.”
“But every time we got close you put on the brakes.”
“Really?” She huffed, holding her waist. “Like when I was sucking your dick on the beach? Oh yes I really put on the brakes then didn’t I?”
“I’m not talking about sex. Sex is easy. I’m talking about our hearts and lives here.”
She looked away, pouting.
“And you’re pouting because you know I’m right. You’re scared, Lexi.”
“I’m not scared of anything.” She laughed it off. �
�That’s…that’s all in your head.”
She tried to ignore his tantalizing scent. It wasn’t his cologne that enticed her but the scent of him…his skin. She wanted to bury her face into his chest. She wanted him to smother her with his smell and touch. She wanted to be down on her knees, tasting every drop of him until she nearly choked from him nutting in her mouth.
Then she remembered how great sex and how much she wanted him didn’t matter if she really were scared and maybe she was. But from what she could tell, she wasn’t the only one afraid of something.
“You’re trying to analyze me, huh?” She crossed her arms. “You’re the pathetic one, Kevin.”
“Really?” His voice cracked as if the comment stung deeper than she’d wanted it to.
“You don’t stick with Grant because you appreciate what he’s done. You’re too scared to make it on your own.”
His jaw pulsated.
She waved her finger around. “You know that Grant is the reason you have this job, fancy car, and luxurious house you live in.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Without Grant you’re afraid you’re nothing. You don’t think you can survive without him being your crutch, your safety net.” She poked his chest. “I might be scared of giving my heart but I’m not scared to live my own life.”
He exhaled through his nose.
“But you are, Kevin.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t be with a man like you. You’re nothing but Grant’s puppet and you’re afraid to be anything else.”
“That’s…” His voice cracked. “That’s a fucked up thing to say, Lexi. A very fucked up thing to say.”
“Well I said it.” She smiled. “What are you gonna do about it?” She went to the door.
He stomped in behind her. “I’ll show you what I’m gonna do.” He pulled her from the door and slammed it.
She jumped. “Oh!”
He grabbed her. “You wanna see what I can do?” He picked her up and held her against the wall. “I’m gonna fuck you until you stop running from this. Until you stop being afraid.” He shoved his mouth onto hers, making a loud sucking sound when he unclamped his lips from hers. “That’s what I’m gonna do.” He stuck his hands up her skirt. “Is this a puppet?” He kissed her with so much force she thought he’d rip her lips from her face. “Would a puppet make you feel like
