Elusive Identities: Cowboy Justice Association (Serials and Stalkers Book 1)

by Olivia Jaymes

  She had to remind herself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Focus. Don't wander. Stay in the moment in case Chris needs help.

  Although she didn't have a fucking clue what she'd do if he did. She wasn't armed and she was no black belt. She did have some pepper spray in her backpack.

  That. Get that out and be ready.

  Where the hell was he? She hadn't heard anything and she didn't know if that was good or bad. Had a bad guy knocked him out silently? She couldn't hear a struggle. Ella had her ear pressed against the wall when Chris reappeared.

  "It's clear but a mess. It looks like you had company. You'll need to check if anything is missing. Did you call the cops?"

  Oops. No. She'd been trying to breathe.

  "I was about to do that."

  To his credit he didn't roll his eyes. He holstered his weapon under his jacket and pulled out his phone.

  "I can do that. You go on in and check for missing items."

  "I'm not really good in a crisis," she admitted, crossing over the threshold with him on her heels. "I sort of just freeze up. You're probably not like that."

  "They frown on that in the police academy."

  He had the phone pressed to his ear but he kept glancing her way as she walked around the living room, taking in the destruction.

  It was the only word she could think of that truly fit. Couch and chair cushions slit open, pillows torn apart, drawers hanging open, drapes pulled down. Nothing had been left untouched. It was the same in the kitchen and all the other rooms. They'd been so thorough that if she'd been hiding a winning lottery ticket they would have easily found it.

  "I was supposed to make sure nothing happened to the place. I was supposed to be watching the apartment. Holy crap, I have to find Merc."

  An inane statement at such a moment but it still hadn't quite sunk in that she'd been robbed. Someone had broken into the apartment while she'd been out. She felt...violated. It was disturbing to even think about. Had they been watching her for awhile, getting to know her daily routine? Had they been waiting for her to leave this morning? It creeped her the hell out.

  "Merc, Merc," Ella called, practically sprinting from room to room. Tears had begun to fall as she pictured the worst but then she heard a loud meow coming from somewhere in the bedroom. "Oh my God, Merc. Where are you?"

  Another loud meow. This time from the bed. Kneeling on the floor, she peered under the bed and found herself looking into two golden eyes. Thank goodness, Merc had had the good sense to hide under the bed.

  "Come here, kitty. Everything is going to be okay."

  To her surprise, Merc launched himself into her arms, clinging to her like a lifeline. He must have been terrified.

  "No one can expect you to watch their home twenty-four-seven. It's unrealistic." Chris said, tucking his phone away. "No one can do that. Is anything missing?"

  Good question. One she'd been asking herself as she'd toured each room, more slowly now that she'd found the cat. The answer was far more murky.

  "Well...no. Not that I can find yet. The television is still here. All the small kitchen appliances are in place, and I can't see anything missing but they must have taken something. I had my laptop with me."

  "What about jewelry? Did you have anything of value?"

  Ella shook her head, her gaze still scanning around the room. "No, I only have a few things and I'm wearing them. A necklace and a pinky ring. That's it."

  "Clothes? Shoes?"

  "I didn't notice anything." She pointed to the gigantic television on the wall. "They left the most valuable thing in the whole place. That has to be expensive."

  Chris had that look on his face. The one where he was thinking about something and the wheels were turning in his head. She'd spent enough time with him to know that he'd tell her about it soon but to give him a little space in the meantime.

  She watched him as he walked around the living room and kitchen, picking up an item here and there that had been tossed on the floor. Eventually he came back to stand in front of her, a frown on his face.

  "It doesn't make any sense."

  "I agree. Maybe they got the wrong–"

  "They didn't get it wrong," Chris said with a shake of his head. "They did this to scare you. And maybe me, too. They wanted to rattle you and get you off balance."

  "They've succeeded," Ella replied tartly. Her breathing and heart rate was still elevated. The entire situation had her looking over her shoulder. "I'm totally creeped out. What were they looking for?"

  Chris walked over to the front door where he dropped his worn brown messenger bag just inside.

  "They might have been looking for this."

  "Your notes?" She didn’t quite comprehend what he was trying to say. "Can you just say whatever it is you’re thinking and stop making me guess?"

  So much for patience. After seeing her home ransacked, it was in short supply.

  "What I'm saying is that my theory is that whoever did this did it to scare you away from the Jane Doe case. Or they may have been looking for your case notes. Or mine. I doubt they were all that fussy."

  It sounded far-fetched. Kind of. She'd never investigated any story important enough that people might want to warn her off. Dog shows and beauty pageants had their own drama but usually not the deadly sort.

  "That's an out there conclusion you've jumped to. Maybe the burglar was inexperienced? Or confused? Maybe they were drugged out of their minds?"

  It was a strange day in her life when it was preferable that crazed druggies had broken into her home, but Chris was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence.

  "This wasn't random or not thought out, honey. I wish it was but whoever did this methodically ransacked your apartment. They went room by room and threw shit on the floor and sliced through pillows and cushions. They created maximum damage without really doing anything else. No threatening notes on the walls, nothing actually stolen. Think about it, Ella. Think about how long it would have taken someone to do all of this damage, hell, even two people. They had a plan, they came in and executed it. The same actions were taken in every room. That's not random or confused."

  He made a good argument, one that Ella couldn't poke any holes in. Now she was even more freaked out. This wasn't good by any stretch of the imagination.

  "Why? Why me? Why not you?" She slapped her forehead and groaned. "That didn't come out right. I don't mean that I wanted this to happen to you. I'm just wondering as to why they came here."

  "No offense taken. And to be honest, we don't know that they haven't been to my place, too," he pointed out. "We'll know when we get there. That's our next stop after we deal with the police."

  "Our?"

  "Do you think I'm leaving you here alone after this? No way. You're staying with me until we get to the bottom of this."

  Ella wasn't a woman who took orders easily. Her first instinct was to argue about his high-handed protectiveness but then a little voice in the back of her head reminded her that she was creeped out and didn't really want to be alone. Would it be so awful to stay with him for a night or two? It would take time to put this place back together and the mattresses and couch were slashed. Unless she wanted to bunk on the floor, she couldn't sleep here.

  But she didn't want to give in too easily... She didn't want Chris to think he could order her around and she'd just fall in line.

  She looked around the shambles that surrounded her. "I don't know about that. I mean...maybe I should stay here."

  "You cannot stay here," Chris replied firmly. He wasn't being pushy but there was no give in his tone. The laidback guy she'd come to know was nowhere to be found. She'd run into an immovable brick wall instead. "It's too dangerous. If someone is trying to scare you off of this story then this might only be the opening salvo. The next could be much worse."

  Some reporter she was. That hadn't occurred to her. Shit and fuck.

  Give in gracefully. You don't really want to be alone here.

  "Wel
l...I guess I could stay with you. I could call my parents but I don't want to alarm them."

  The mere thought of telling her mom and dad what had happened sounded like a terrible idea. They'd freak and then she'd freak more and...

  She'd warned Chris she wasn't good in a crisis.

  "Pack a quick bag." Chris peered out the window as the sound of sirens grew closer. "Once we deal with them we'll go check my place. If they've hit there, then we'll have to find a safe house."

  A safe house? What kind of alternate reality had she entered? Did someone really want her to drop this story? And if so, why? It was a cold case from thirty years ago. It didn't make any sense.

  Had they struck a nerve with one of the people they'd spoken to? Had they already talked to the killer and didn't realize it?

  Her ringtone broke into her dark thoughts and she accepted the call without even looking to see who it was. The voice that asked for Gabriella Scott was unfamiliar but as she continued to listen to what they were saying she realized that her long day wasn't over. Not even close. When they were done, she hung up but didn't put her phone away.

  Still holding it, she stared at her screensaver, a picture of Ella and her parents in front of the Christmas tree. Taken a few months ago, they were smiling and happy, not knowing any of this shit was coming at them. Life was great and always would be. Right? Not so much.

  The sirens were close now but she barely registered any of the sounds around her. Her mind was still processing... It was only when Chris gently took the phone from her hand that she realized she was visibly shaking.

  "Honey, what's wrong?" His arms closed around her, pulling her against his warm and strong body, but her fingers, toes, and lips still felt numb, as if she'd been out in the cold too long. The numb feeling was beginning to spread through her limbs making them feel heavy and slow. "Talk to me."

  "That was the DNA lab."

  She was proud that she'd been able to form words considering she couldn't feel her lips.

  "What did they say, honey?"

  Chris's voice was soft and gentle and for a moment she allowed herself to lean into his strength. Just for a moment. She'd be strong in a minute or two. She didn't have any choice.

  "The test results came back. Jane was my biological mother."

  21

  Dealing with the cops had been a pain in the ass but Chris had done his best to be patient. It wasn't their fault that Ella's world was imploding while they were trying to get a statement. They said they'd pull any surveillance video from the camera at the entrance and exit but that's about all they could do. For an expensive neighborhood, the building security left something to be desired. His own building had even less but then he had a gun on the premises. And he knew how to use it.

  After the police left Chris had helped Ella pack a bag, bundling her and the cat into his vehicle as quickly as possible without actually pushing her toward the door. Having her place ransacked would have been bad enough but now she had to deal with the emotional aftermath of the DNA results. Somehow in his mind, he'd simply assumed that Ella had to be some sort of family to Kelly. The resemblance was just too strong to be a coincidence.

  Besides, Chris - and his dad - didn't believe in coincidences.

  She didn't say much on the drive to his place, busy watching out of the window as the scenery passed by. Every now and then the cat would meow from his little carrier but other than that no one spoke. Chris didn't interrupt her thoughts, keeping himself quiet as well and letting her deal with it however she needed to. He didn't have any answers for her situation so the least he could do was shut the hell up and give her some peace.

  When they arrived at his apartment, he again made her wait outside while he checked it out but it appeared completely untouched. Inviting her in, he took her bags without comment, setting them beside the couch in the living room. She'd be staying in Annie's room tonight and he was relieved that they'd made it a more "grownup" space. Done in soft pastels, the bed was a full-size with a butterfly-themed comforter. At least Ella would be comfortable and not sleeping on a tiny mattress.

  She opened the cat carrier and the small tabby sprang out and immediately found a comfy spot on the couch where he could see outside.

  "I'm going to order us some dinner," he said, digging into the kitchen drawer and pulling out a stack of menus. "Did you want to take a look or should I just order a bunch of food and we'll share?"

  "That sounds fine," she replied without saying which part sounded that way, the former or the latter. He didn't ask again. "I'm going to use the bathroom if you don't mind."

  "Of course not. Take your time."

  Ella disappeared down the hall, leaving him literally holding three menus. He picked his favorite and dialed them up, ordering enough food for a small army. They could stow the leftovers in the fridge. He did this quite often so he wouldn't have to cook for a few days. He liked to cook when Annie was there but it wasn't all that fun just for himself.

  Even when she came back into the kitchen he kept his distance, giving her physical space as well as emotional. He wasn't going to add to any pressure she might be feeling.

  Sitting down at the table, Ella scrolled through her phone but apparently wasn't all that interested in what she saw. Listlessly, she placed it on the table and turned her attention to Chris who was loading his breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. He'd been in too much of a hurry this morning to take care of them.

  "Do you have any whiskey?"

  He quickly finished wiping up the counter before answering. "Sorry, I don't keep alcohol in the house."

  "Right. You said that before. Sorry."

  She reached for her phone again but then stopped, heaving a heavy sigh. This was probably Chris's moment to say...something but for the life of him he didn't know what. There wasn't anything he could say that would make Ella feel better. She had to work through this the hard way.

  "I didn't expect those results."

  Chris froze at her words, a million questions on the tip of his tongue but he wouldn't allow even one of them to be spoken. This was her show and he was only the audience. He'd let her take the lead.

  "I mean...of course, I knew it was possible, especially after I saw those photos of Kelly. We look like twins and what are the odds of that? But I just...I don't know. I guess there was a part of me that kept holding out hope that the original story that my parents had told me was true. That I was Dad's sister's baby and they adopted me after she died. I know that sounds stupid because they told me themselves that it was all just a story, a lie to make me feel better, but I wanted it to be true, Chris. I really wanted it to be real. It was all so loving and romantic and it made me feel special. But the truth doesn't make me feel like that. It makes me feel..."

  That was the most words Ella had spoken since she received the news. It was good that she was working through it, but it had to be far from pleasant.

  "It makes me feel unloved...and...ordinary. There's isn't anything special about me, and isn't it pathetic that I counted on that my whole fucking life?"

  He couldn't keep quiet, not when she was talking about herself like that.

  "You are special. What makes you think that you're not?"

  Ella rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath. "You sound like my parents or one of my teachers. Each one of you are special in your own way. Love yourself. You think I'm special? Is that because I'm the daughter of a drug-addicted hooker?"

  This was going downhill on a sled.

  "You don't know what Kelly was. Not really. All we have are people's opinions."

  "That police report isn't an opinion. She was a prostitute to support her drug habit. Not exactly Mother of the Year."

  "And she knew it," Chris replied, coming to sit down next to her at the table. He reached for her hands, entwining their fingers together. "She knew she wasn't a great mom so you lived with your dad. She must have loved you very much. She was sick, Ella. Addiction is a disease."

  Snorting, Ella
wrinkled her nose. "Does that make it better?"

  No, but it was an explanation. The world certainly needed more of those.

  "She made some bad choices and she paid for them. Perhaps even with her life. That doesn't make her evil. It sounds like she didn't have anyone in her corner helping her to clean up her life."

  "I know I should feel sorry for her..."

  Ella's voice trailed off so Chris finished her sentence.

  "But you don't."

  "I suppose you think that makes me a real bitch."

  "I think that makes you human. I'm also guessing that you can be a bitch every now and then, just like I can be an asshole. We all have that side of ourselves, but I don't expect you to hear news like this and less than an hour later be all fine about it. You're hurting and mourning but you think you're wrong to do it. You think you're not supposed to. Trust me when I say that you can't go around something like this, you have to plow forward and go right through it."

  "No matter how painful?"

  Her tone was full of sarcasm but that was the hurt talking.

  "Life is painful," Chris replied simply. "Not all the time, but it can be. No one gets to avoid it or pretend that it didn't happen. You have to deal with it."

  "I'm trying but you're not making it easy. I can only deal with it a little at a time."

  There wasn't any way he could make it better for her. He didn't have that kind of power.

  "You can deal with it however you want to. I'm not trying to tell you what to do."

  "Yes, you are." He opened his mouth to deny it but she waved away his excuses. "You're being a typical male and trying to solve my problem. Has it occurred to you that I don't want to solve it? Maybe I just want to wallow in it for awhile. Did that occur to you?"

  It did not. He wasn't sure that her characterization of the situation as a problem was even a good one.

  "Maybe I'm just being a guy but when someone tells me they have a problem, I assume they want to solve it. If you don't, that's fine, though. It's just–"

  He broke off, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words.