by ANDREA SMITH
“Do you find that fact more than just co-incidental, Ms. Preston?”
“I guess I haven’t thought of it as anything but just bad luck up to this point.”
“Please continue about the night you were assaulted, Ms. Preston.”
“He just kept touching me, and calling me ‘Sissy.’ I was thrashing around in my bed, trying to get away from him, trying to push him off of the bed. I remember him saying. . .” I stopped myself right there. This was something that I had just remembered Charlie saying to me the night I was attacked. Oh God, I didn’t want this to go on the record. It was too late.
“What did he say, Ms. Preston?”
I sighed, not wanting to continue, but knowing she would badger me for withholding information if I didn’t.
“He said something like ‘Sissy likes it rough.’ He asked me if I wanted him to fuck me like the boss man did in the stable that night.”
“Who was he referring to, Ms. Preston.”
(Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.)
“Back in mid-August, I had gone to the stables when I heard the horses riled up really early in the morning. It was still dark out. My cottage was nearest to the stables. I saw a light on and went in. Trey was in there, kind of drunk and I was trying to help him out of Derringer’s stall. One thing led to another, and we ended up . . . making love in the stables.”
“How would Charlie Roberts have known that?” she asked.
“He would have had to have been watching us,” I replied, blushing again.
“Not necessarily,” she replied. “Is it possible that Mr. Sinclair boasted about having sex with you in the stables to other workers there? Perhaps bragging to the other guys about his sexcapades, that sort of thing?”
“No,” I responded, my anger showing, “It’s not possible.”
“Why are you so certain about that, Ms. Preston?”
“Because Trey has no recollection of that night,” I answered softly.
I finished relaying the rest of what I remembered about the assault that night. I told her that I had screamed for help; bit his hand when he clamped it over my mouth, causing it to bleed. I told her I continued to scream and kick at him, smashing a lamp against him at one point. I told her I fought back until his fist knocked me unconscious. When I awoke, I was in the hospital and it was two days later.
Beth Denniston rose and walked over to a box that Detective Ryan had brought into the conference room with him.
“Ms. Preston, we have some evidence here in this box which we would ask you identify please for the record in this investigation.” She pulled out the plum silk camisole top that had been cut, along with the ripped plum silk shorts.
“Do you recognize these?”
“Yes, those are the silk pajamas I had on that night in Radcliff, Kentucky when Charlie Roberts came into my bedroom as a thirteen year old and sexually assaulted me.”
“Do you know how these items got torn and cut?”
“The bottoms were ripped off of me. I have no idea how the top got cut.”
“Do you know how Charlie would have been in possession of these items?”
“I have no idea. The only possibility is that my mother may have given them to him.”
“What would the purpose be in her doing that?”
“You would have to ask her,” I answered.
She then pulled out the piece of paper that had typing on it reading, ‘I believe these belong to you, Sissy.’
“Do you recognize this piece of paper?” she asked.
“Yes, that is the note that was pinned to the camisole top that was left on the porch of my cottage.”
“And when did this happen, Ms. Preston?”
“I don’t recall the exact date, it was on a Sunday, I do remember that. Trey and I had gone to eat at Morelli’s outside of Bristol that afternoon. He walked me back to my cottage, and the clothes and the note were in a shopping bag, hanging on the knob of my front door. I thought Trey had wanted to surprise me with a gift . . .” my voice trailed off.
“So Mr. Sinclair was with you when you found these on your porch?”
“Yes, he had just had the locks changed. I think it was the end of June sometime.”
Ms. Denniston lifted the two blue velvet jewelry cases out of the box.
“Can you identify these, Ms. Preston?”
“Yes, these are the two blue velvet jewelry cases that were left in my cottage. I recognize the earrings and necklace as those previously given to me by my mother the night of my senior prom. I actually hadn’t seen them since the night of my prom. I thought I had lost them at one of the after prom parties. They showed up here in my cottage underneath my bed covers a day or two prior to the pj’s being left on my door.”
“Was there any note left with these?” she asked...
“No just the boxes. I remember that I had walked back to my cottage from the race track over at ‘the Belle.’ It was dark, and my horse was . . . scratched from the last race. I noticed lights on in my cottage that had not been on when I left for the track earlier. I was looking through my own windows, when Trey came up on me. He went in the cottage to check it out before I did.”
“So, Mr. Sinclair was there when you discovered these boxes under your bed covers?”
I didn’t like the tone her questioning was taking relative to Trey.
“Yes, he was. We were discussing the matter of my horse being scratched from the race that evening. We weren’t entirely in agreement on it.”
Ms. Denniston pulled out another folded piece of paper from her box of goodies. It was inserted into a plastic sleeve like the other one.
“Do you recognize this note, Ms. Preston?” It was the one addressed to ‘Sissy’ stating the sender missed the sweet taste of her cunt and promising to find her.
“Yes, it was shoved underneath the door of my cottage.”
“Do you remember when that was?”
“Not the specific, date, no. It was after the pj’s were left.”
“Was Mr. Sinclair at the cottage when you found it?”
“No, actually, Trey was in Atlanta where his law firm is located. My friend Gina was with me at the cottage. I wasn’t staying at the cottage because Trey worried about me. Gina and I were staying at the Sinclair manor. I had to go and get more clothes and stuff, so Gina went with me. She saw it on the floor inside the door, and handed it to me.”
“Ms. Preston, is there any particular reason that you didn’t mention of lot of these incidents in your statement previously given to the detectives at the hospital?”
“Ms. Denniston, with what I have shared with you here this morning, you must see how ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated I am about my past; about my mother and the type of person that she was and still is for that matter. I know that there is a link between my mom and Charlie Roberts; to what extent, I have no way of knowing. I know that my trust was emptied out shortly after I arrived in Bristol; Trey believes that Charlie may be a co-conspirator in that as well.
I only recently came to terms with the fact that my mother was and possibly still is a prostitute; that my heritage is a
total mystery. So if I’m not particularly anxious to discover whether my mom actually wanted me dead, and paid Charlie to do the job, it isn’t because I’m trying to obstruct justice in any way, it’s only because I’m not sure I could handle that much hate in one lifetime from my mother.”
Ms. Denniston looked at me and smiled. It was the first time that I saw compassion cross her face. I understood that she wanted justice served and it was her duty to ascertain the merit of existing criminal charges and to explore the possibility that Charlie had not acted alone. There was a human element involved. I was a key witness to the facts. She had to press me just as a defense attorney would if this went to trial.
“I understand that you are going to be a mother,” she said.
“Yes in early May I’m told.”
“I wish you the best, Ms. Preston. I have a feeling that your chil
d will be blessed with a mother that will give him or her love and nurturing that every child deserves, but that you were denied.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
“We will be in contact with you should we have any further questions. The investigation will continue, and we will keep you informed. Thank you for making the trip here Ms. Preston. Going forward we will take care not to inconvenience you unless absolutely necessary. We can do video conferencing if any further interviews are required prior to filing the charges. We will let you know the outcome prior to filing any additional or reassessing the current charges to upgrade them to more serious felonies.”
That was it. I was done here. I texted Trey as instructed. A limo was dispatched for me and I arrived at the airport well in advance of my flight. I was able to get my flight changed to an earlier departure. Once on the plane I felt better than I had all day. I was going home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The week since my return from Abingdon, Virginia had been fairly uneventful except for one thing. I had gotten a job! I was so pumped about it, glad that I would still have an income until the baby was born. I had registered with a temp agency the week after I had arrived back in Radcliff. The following Monday after my return from Virginia, Tiffany at the temp agency called me with a potential job assignment. The interview was that afternoon. It was a twenty week assignment which would take me up to just a few weeks prior to my due date.
The job was filling in at a law firm right in Radcliff. One of the administrative assistants was getting ready to go out on pregnancy leave of all things. They wanted me there for a week before she was due to go out so that she could train me. The firm practiced mostly family law; things such as wills, divorces, bankruptcies; they also handled collections for a couple of debt collection agencies. That is the area that I would be handling.
The interview went really well. There were two lawyers in the small firm, and three legal assistants. The one going on pregnancy leave was Kara. This was her first baby and she was due around Christmas.
Nancy was the office manager at the law firm. She was first assistant to both of the attorney’s; and Jill handled the phone, appointments, the court filings, court calendar and mail. They were all very nice. I had a great feeling about the interview and was hoping I would be selected for the position. They had one other temp to interview.
I received a call from Tiffany at the agency on Tuesday morning informing that I was selected for the assignment and was to start the following day. My hours were 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. which was perfect.
My second trimester had started and I was feeling great. The nausea and fatigue were gone. The pre-natal vitamins must have kicked in. I had gained five pounds!
I was ecstatic. For some reason I could hardly wait to get my baby bump.
My first week at my job was great! I loved all the girls at the firm; the lawyers were nice as well. Kara showed me basically how to handle the collection payments that had already been set up. I recorded payments received in and provided receipts for the people submitting payment either directly if they came into the office to pay or by mail if they mailed them in. I collected new files weekly from the debt collection agencies that turned them over to our firm to commence legal action.
Kara explained the process from the initial complaint filing to garnishment or lien attachment. It was a fairly straight forward process that she clearly outlined for me. The two weeks of training passed quickly. I was fairly comfortable flying solo once Kara officially left for her maternity leave.
On Tuesday, the second day of my first week of handling my responsibilities solo I had just returned to the office after lunch. I had taken an extended lunch as I combined it with a stop at General American Credit, one of
our clients for debt collection litigation. I had picked up ten new case files to enter into the system to begin collection proceedings. As I walked through the reception area, Jill caught my attention, waving me over to her desk. She looked semi-frantic and I was wondering what could have possibly changed her usual, laid back demeanor.
“Tylar,” she said in a loud whisper.
(Why is she whispering?)
“There’s an attorney in your office, waiting to see you.”
“An attorney in my office?”
“Yes,” she stammered. “He’s like really, really gorgeous.”
(Oh God!)
“His name is Mr. Sinclair. Do you know him?”
“Yes, I do,” I answered, puzzled as to why Trey would show up here unannounced like this.
“I used to work for him,” I explained.
“He seems a bit….distraught,” Jill said, reluctantly.
“Distraught?”
She shook her head affirmatively.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said very nonchalantly.
My hands were trembling. I went on down the hall to my office, clutching the ten thick file folders I was carrying.
As I opened the door with one hand, balancing the stack of file folders in the other, I was keenly aware through my peripheral vision that Trey was standing next to my desk. I grabbed my files with both hands, kicking my office door shut with my foot. He was right there beside me.
“Here,” he said, taking the stack of file folders from my hands. Allow me, please, Tylar.”
“Trey?” I said acting surprised to see him.
He set the stack of files on my desk, and then turned to me.
“Please sit down, Tylar,” he said, taking my hand and moving me around to the other side of my desk, pulling the chair out for me to sit down on.
What the hell was going on? He was acting very strange; it was as if I had suddenly turned into a delicate China doll that could break at any minute. The suspense was killing me.
“Trey, what the hell is going on? Why are you here? The last I knew, we weren’t on speaking terms?”
He sat on the edge of my desk, swiveling the chair I was in around, so that he had my full attention.
His nearness to me was distracting; his dark gray suit trousers accentuated his firm, lean build. His tailored linen shirt could not hide the muscular arms and chest beneath. His chin dimple drove me to distraction, along with his golden brown mass of tousled hair. His gaze was serious, penetrating as he leaned forward, putting each of his hands on the arms of my chair so that I could not turn away from
him. I was hypnotized by those piercing sapphire eyes, not taking my tawny brown ones off of him.
“Tylar,” it was almost a whisper as the words were spoken, “Is there something that you need to tell me?”
Uh-oh. What did he know, or what did he think he knew?
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I replied.
“Don’t play with me,” he said, much louder, almost accusatorially.
I shrunk back from him, trying to increase the distance between our bodies and his piercing gaze, which didn’t falter in its intensity.
“Say what you’re here to say, Trey. I am on the clock,” I responded, trying my best to muster more courage than I possessed at the moment.
“You are having my baby,” he declared, daring me to deny it, blue eyes flashing.
“No,” I replied obstinately, “I am having my baby."
He was not deterred one little bit by my avoidance of an answer to his declaration. He eyed me, warily; I knew he wanted more information and he wanted it now.
“I’m not leaving Radcliff until you and I have had the opportunity to discuss this, do you understand?”
I nodded affirmatively, somewhat intimidated by his intensity. I was having difficulty reading Trey at the moment. I agreed with Jill's assessment: distraught. That could mean several things.
“What time does your shift end?”
“Four o’clock,” I replied.
“I will be at your house waiting,” he said.
I nodded again.
He left, not making any further conversation. Oh my God, what was I going to tell him and how in
the hell had he figured this out? I was sorting through the file folders on my desk when Jill poked her head into my office. I looked up from what I was doing.
“Okay, spill,” she said. “Who was the hottie?”
How much should I tell Jill?
“He’s someone that I used to go out with,” I told her which was true.
“Why did you stop?” she asked.
“It’s complicated,” I said with a sigh.
The rest of the afternoon just seemed to drone on. Part of me was anxious to see Trey this evening because it seemed as if I hadn’t seen him forever rather than just a few short weeks. I just wasn’t sure what to expect. We hadn’t spent two minutes together this afternoon, so I didn’t have a feel for his attitude about my pregnancy. He was definitely upset that I had kept it from him, though the fact that he didn’t recall the event had left with me little choice in the matter.
I had to keep busy or the day would move all that much slower. I input the ten new cases into the database; printed out the customary letters requesting payment prior to commencement of further legal action. Jill had brought in the afternoon mail; I posted payments to the various accounts and balanced the general ledger.
Four o’clock finally came around and I closed down my desk for the day. I told Jill I would see her tomorrow and headed out. True to his word, Trey was waiting in his rental car when I pulled into the driveway at home. He came up to the porch a puzzled look on his face.
“Tylar, where is your Mercedes?” he asked.
Oh God. I swallowed nervously, trying to fit my house key into the lock with no success. He brushed me aside, quickly turning the key, releasing the lock. As I put my hand on the door handle, he stopped me.
“I’m waiting for an answer,” he demanded.
“I traded it in,” I answered. “It wasn’t practical with the baby coming and all.”
He said no more on the matter; hopefully realizing that I had taken the practical approach.
“I got money back from the trade,” I said, not wanting him to think that I had taken advantage or profited in some way as a result of my practicality.
“I’d be happy to give it back to you,” I offered.