BLOODY BELL

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BLOODY BELL Page 13

by Jeremy Waldron


  “What does that have to do with this?”

  Flashes of Cameron and Tracey shined bright behind my eyelids as I asked, “How did you even learn of this?”

  “Online.”

  I tossed my hands up. As if she needed any more proof of why this was a bad idea.

  “This is different,” Heather insisted. “Despite what your job may convince you, not everyone in this world is a monster.”

  I could only answer her with a look.

  “I’m not pregnant, in case you’re wondering.”

  “Not yet!” My hands were trembling. I fell into the chair and didn’t say anything for a long pause. I finally spoke. “Will you at least explore other options before committing to this?”

  Heather reached for the packet and left the kitchen. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  I couldn’t stay here. Even if it was my own house. I didn’t have it in me to enjoy just one cup of coffee. Slowly, I stood and turned off the machine. I gathered my things and headed out the door, telling my sister, who was sitting on the couch hugging her knees to her chest, “Tell Mason to call me if he leaves the house.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The car bounced on its wheels as I dropped my big butt behind the steering wheel. The early morning nip in the air didn’t even register. Heather never said anything on my way out and I still couldn’t believe she thought being a surrogate was a good idea.

  “She could barely commit to herself,” I muttered to an empty car. “How does she think she could go nine months carrying a baby and feel free?”

  I asked myself all these questions, suspecting that my sister hadn’t thought of any of them. This was all assuming there weren’t any complications along the way. Being pregnant was anything but a walk in the park; so much could go wrong.

  A thin layer of ice covered my windows and hid me from the chance of being seen. I felt safe to freely explore my thoughts, bad-mouth my sister’s decision, and get it all off my chest before I met up with Erin. Finally, I turned on the car and cranked the defrost.

  Reaching behind the seat, I closed my fingers around the scraper and stepped out. I moved fast to clear the windows, hating the sounds of plastic over ice on glass. It gave me the same prickly scalp as nails on a chalkboard—the same irritation my sister inflicted upon me.

  Once back inside the car, I checked my cell phone out of habit. I’d missed a text message from King.

  Dreamed about you last night.

  It was cheesy but I appreciated knowing we could not let work come between us.

  See you soon. I hope… was my reply. And that was the truth. Whether it be case-related or not, Heather was my reason for my need to escape.

  A short drive later, I was knocking on Erin’s front door. It faced east and basked in the morning light. The sky promised calm weather and scattered clouds. I heard the lock click over just before Erin answered.

  “Is it eight already?” She squinted into the sun.

  “I’m early,” I said, stepping inside her cute little house.

  “I’m just finishing getting ready. You’re not in a hurry, are you?”

  “Take your time.” I kicked off my shoes and meandered my way to the bookcase.

  “There is a pot of tea in the kitchen if you’re interested,” Erin called out from the bathroom just before I heard the blow dryer turn on.

  I scanned the shelves of fiction, theory, and philosophy just waiting to find a bestseller Erin had secretly written but never told me about. I could see her hiding something big like that—the unassuming and wickedly smart woman sleuth, Erin Tate—there was still a lot about her life I didn’t know yet.

  Soon, I moved on and kept moseying around.

  Erin’s house was not too different than my own. Similar in size, but you wouldn’t know it. It didn’t feel as cramped. It was only her living here. She had no big dog shedding hair, no kids, no boyfriend, and certainly no sister to drive her up the walls. It was nice to freely roam without tripping over a random left out shoe or dog chew. As I padded my way into her office, I continued dreaming of how great it would be to have a house to myself.

  Erin had converted the spare bedroom into a home office. She had her desk for writing, and another for recording her podcast. It was perfect. On her writing desk, I caught myself staring at a familiar image.

  It was a printout of Keith Brown and, when I fingered my way through Erin’s notes, I liked what I was seeing. She was attempting to piece together what happened to them and why.

  Could it really be suicide? Was homicide the right ruling if their deaths were the result of an overdose?

  Because of King, we knew the medical examiner’s office had ruled their deaths a homicide, but charges hadn’t been filed by the district attorney’s office. It was up to us to figure out if anyone besides a drug dealer from the street to was to blame.

  “He seemed like a piece of work from what I gather.” Erin joined me in looking into the eyes of Keith Brown. Tracey had the same eyes and nose as her father. We needed to find her. “I keep playing the hypothetical and asking myself, if the Browns were murdered, what did they know that someone didn’t want them to share?”

  “King said it might not be about the women,” I reminded her as I lay the image back on her desk, “but the babies.”

  Erin shuffled through another stack of papers. “About that. I searched into the early morning trying to find anything resembling the online ad King said Tracey responded to.”

  I gave Erin an arched look.

  She shook her head. “I found nothing.”

  I fell into her swivel chair and took my lower lip between my teeth, listening to my brain grind its gears. It was going to be another long day. I could feel my head already beginning to throb.

  “So I started putting together a list of family practice doctors, mid-wives, and OB-GYNs. I’m at a total loss of who would only target babies and leave the mothers to die.”

  “Not only to die, but to stage their deaths to make it look like a suicide. But we only know Tracey responded to an ad. Not that Kate did. Maybe Kate was totally separate from Tracey. Maybe Tracey’s ad was on the up-and-up.” Even as I said it I knew it couldn’t be true. There had to be a catch if she was offered money and medical care.

  “Anything from the tip-line?” Erin asked, not pressing my weak theory.

  I shook my head. “There is something I didn’t tell you.”

  Erin drew her eyebrows together and paused.

  “Dawson told me to stay off the website this week.”

  “What? Why?” Erin’s eyes flashed with annoyance.

  “More cuts are coming to the newsroom and he doesn’t want to give anyone reason to can me.”

  Erin folded her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one leg. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”

  I cast my gaze to my knee caps and shrugged one shoulder. “You want me to get fired?”

  Erin rolled my chair to the side and booted up her computer. Her fingers clacked on the keys and she navigated to a specific webpage with her mouse. “Look here, Sam. This is the ad revenue our website has generated in the last month.”

  I stared at the impressive number. “Just last month?”

  Erin nodded, her eyes sparkling. Six months ago when I met Erin, we immediately hit it off and decided to combine forces—me handling the digital publishing side of things and her on the podcast. We quickly found our audience and had been growing our platform since.

  “Our best month to date.” Erin smiled. “It’s working, Sam. We’re making money.”

  “But it’s not there yet.” I stood and moved to the opposite wall, knowing what she was showing me wouldn’t be enough to support us both.

  “I’m working a couple potential clients to sponsor the podcast and, if I close the deal, that will add another significant chunk to our monthly earnings.”

  I couldn’t look Erin in her eye. The paper was the only thing I truly ever wanted—besides G
avin. And when he left, it was all I had. The paper gave me a life outside of being a mom. It supported soccer practice and daycare for Mason. It was my entire community. I loved that what Erin and I were building with www.RealCrimeNews.com was growing, but I wasn’t comfortable making the leap to going full-time.

  “Sam,” Erin’s voice was small, nonthreatening, “I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to do.” She didn’t push and I appreciated the gesture. I could make this decision all on my own. “I was just showing you what we’ve built and the potential for us to make more.”

  I continued to stare through the threshold and into the perfectly organized house. It was then I realized how easy Erin made it all seem. I loved doing both the website and reporting to Dawson. It was the best of both worlds—and I couldn’t imagine ever having to choose between the two.

  “How are you able to afford all this?” I finally had the guts to ask her something I’d always wondered.

  Erin swallowed and said, “Okay. You’re right. I should have told you when we first met, when we first started this adventure together.” She lowered her tailbone on the edge of her desk. “I received a large settlement after the death of my father.”

  I froze. I didn’t know. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Erin didn’t react, told me it happened shortly before she decided to move to Denver. “It’s the only certainty we have in this life.”

  Erin was right, and now it was all starting to make sense how she was able to do all this without taking pay. She was incredible at what she did, and I couldn’t have asked for a better partner, but I didn’t have the same opportunity as she did. I had bills stacking up, a teenage son, and now a sister in limbo. Finances were tight, but I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.

  “I’m in this 100%.” Erin looked me directly in the eye as she spoke. “There is nothing I would rather be doing with my time.”

  Erin wasn’t looking for any kind of statement for me to make. She knew where I stood and my actions spoke for themselves. I was committed to both worlds. But was Dawson? He made it seem like soon I would be forced to walk the plank or get pushed.

  “We better get going,” I said when I finally checked the time. “Allison is expecting us to bring breakfast. And Susan would have a fit if we were late.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “She wants to do what?”

  Erin was dramatic in her delivery—deservingly so—after what I had just shared about Heather. It felt good to get this off my chest, but mostly it felt good to hear someone else’s opinion on the subject.

  “You heard me right.” I nodded and kept driving. “She wants to become a surrogate mother.”

  The smells of fried chicken, buttered biscuits, and eggs and bacon spilled out of the Chick-fil-A bags we had picked up on our way to St. Joseph’s. It was one of Allison’s favorite breakfasts. Picking it up was the least we could do to make her feel like she hadn’t been cooped up inside a hospital room for the past two nights.

  Erin was still in a state of shock when she murmured, “I’ve never been pregnant, so I don’t really know what it’s like, but your sister doesn’t come across as a fool.”

  “You don’t know her the way I do.”

  “It sounds like she’s put a lot of thought into this.”

  “I had an easy pregnancy.” I flicked my gaze to Erin, the corners of my eyes crinkling with the warm memory of my youth. “That isn’t the case for everyone. There’s morning sickness. Exhaustion. Aches and pains. Never enough sleep because you can’t get comfortable. She thinks she’ll have as much energy and drive as she does now to go back to school.” I let out a disbelieving laugh.

  “Seventy-five grand is a lot of cheese. Maybe Heather thinks it’s worth the risk.”

  “If you didn’t receive that settlement, you’re saying you would do it?”

  “Oh, no honey.” Erin laughed like I was crazy. “I didn’t say I would do it, but I understand the appeal.”

  “The money, or being a surrogate?”

  “Both.” Erin’s gaze wandered. “I’d take the money if I had debt to pay.”

  “And that’s what I’m afraid Heather isn’t telling me.”

  “Maybe she really does only want to go to school.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Then it’s a win-win. She gets the money she needs for school and a couple receives the baby they’ve always wanted.”

  My stomach flexed at the idea. I still felt unsettled about it. “It’s not as easy as you’re making it out to be.” I shared my concerns with Erin—the same ones I had shared with my sister—hoping Erin would back me up.

  “Those are her decisions to make.”

  “I know that,” I said. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere fast.

  “What’s really bothering you, Sam? There must be something else that has you trying to stop Heather from doing this.”

  I paused a moment to make sure I got the words right. “Okay. Fine. The real reason I don’t want Heather to go through with this is because of the missing women.”

  Erin’s brows pinched.

  “All of them were—are—pregnant.”

  “Your sister is attractive, but not eighteen-years-old attractive.” Erin had a point—something that differentiated her from the victims we were chasing. “But couldn’t you be thinking too much into this?”

  Maybe I was. But it was my sister and I wanted only the best for her.

  “Sam, I’ve been thinking about what happened last night.” Erin changed the subject like a casual breeze rustling the trees. “Please don’t take this the wrong way.”

  I swallowed and felt my ribs squeeze the air out from deep within my lungs.

  “You know how much I love seeing you happy. You and Alex are perfect for each other, but after what I witnessed last night…” Erin paused. I could feel her unease as her hands twisted in her lap.

  I regretted the way I approached King for all to see. I should have waited. Should have kept my cool and talked to him outside. Alone. But I didn’t, and now I was sure I was going to pay the price for my mistake. “Erin, if you have something to say, just say it.”

  “I can just see the writing on the wall.”

  I slowed the car and made the next turn, trying my best not to jump to conclusions.

  “Your professions mix like oil and water.”

  I rolled my eyes and gave her a look of annoyance.

  “Am I wrong?”

  “It’s different with him.”

  “No doubt. But aren’t you afraid that it will eventually come between you?”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “At some point, every story you get ahead on will make his life hell. Everyone he works with will think you’re manipulating him for the inside scoop.”

  As I ground my molars, I thought about Campbell and my history with the department. I appreciated Erin’s concern—it was worth the extra thought—but I refused to get rid of either King or my career. They weren’t mutually exclusive. Worst of all, I knew the only reason Lieutenant Baker didn’t stop our relationship before it ever took off was because of Gavin’s reputation. But even that was fading into oblivion with each year that passed.

  “I’m not giving either of them up,” I said, and Erin left it at that. We finished the ride in silence.

  Parking was a hassle at the hospital. Erin let her concerns go, choosing instead to concentrate on our visit with Allison. We spent ten minutes driving through the garage searching for a space, and by the time we met up with Susan inside, she let us know how late we were.

  “But we brought breakfast.” I smiled and held up two paper bags. Erin was hanging on to two more—more than enough for just the four of us.

  “Anyway, we thought you would be with your Benjamin,” Erin cooed as she leaned into Susan’s shoulder.

  “Benjamin,” Susan mocked, “isn’t on the schedule today.”

  It was all Susan shared, which was strange since she usually c
ouldn’t stop bragging about him. I knew they’d gone away for a night and wanted to learn more about the conference. And how she could keep the spark in a relationship that seemed to be moving at the speed of light. Instead, we got nothing. Cold as ice.

  We moved through the maze toward Allison’s room in silence. Susan led the our pack of three and I shared an arched look with Erin. She was also hoping Susan would have shared more.

  Erin shrugged and asked Susan, “How was your night away? Were all your expectations met?”

  There was innuendo in her tone and Susan still spit out the bait by only saying, “Hotel was magnificent and the conference spectacular.” She said nothing about Benjamin and that had me wondering what might have happened.

  Together we took a ride up the elevator to the third floor and we were silent as we entered Allison’s room. “I hope you’re hungry,” I said, holding up the food bags.

  Allison’s eyes landed on our loot and lit up. Her electric white smile stretched to her ears. “You didn’t.”

  “We did.”

  “We tried to bring in the ingredients for Bloody Mary’s but they were confiscated at the door,” Erin joked.

  Allison laughed and flicked off the TV.

  We passed the bags around, each of us choosing our favorites first. It felt like old times, sitting around a table at a restaurant, as we discussed the merits of fast food and made jokes that only we thought were funny. By the time we were finished eating and the room had fallen silent, our bodies heavy with digestion, I found myself looking into Allison’s eyes. “Now that you’ve got us all here. What’s the bad news?”

  The mood changed in an instant. It seemed like the bright overhead lights had dimmed even though they hadn’t. Susan sat stiff with her arms crossed over her chest and Erin’s elbows were perched on her knees as she cast her gaze to the floor.

  Allison didn’t take her eyes off of mine, but her smile certainly flipped upside down. It was serious—I could see it in her eyes. I wasn’t sure I was ready to learn what it was, but I braced myself for impact, nonetheless.

 

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