His cell phone rang just as he was slipping his shirt over his head. The ring tone gave him a sense of urgency, it was the one he programmed for Lynn, the police dispatcher, for emergencies. Lynn was a sweet older lady who became a police dispatcher after she retired from the force over twenty-one years ago.
“Lynn,” Cris answered with a bit of panic in his voice. Lynn had never called Cris on his personal time unless she thought it was a true emergency.
His mind quickly drifted back to the first time Lynn had hooked him up with a caller that would only talk to him. The caller was a young boy whose family he had helped out of a domestic case a week earlier. The kid’s father was an alcoholic who only stumbled home when he ran out of money to take out his anger on his family. By the time he got there, the kid’s father was already on top of his mother pounding out his frustration on her. Cris had quickly detained the father upon entering the home and whisked the kid, his younger sister, and mother to Heart of a Lion, a nonprofit shelter his mother and father had started after his father was clean and sober for over five years, and went through family counseling.
Cris’s father was an alcoholic for many years until one day his mother took him and his sister, Grace, to a women's shelter over a hundred miles away, since it was the only women's shelter close yet far enough from their home. Having his family leave him was a wake-up call for Cris's father and he quickly got help. He went through a twelve-step program from there, and he had his sponsor set up family counseling with his wife and children.
When Chane, Cris’s father, realized what he did to them and the pain he caused them during his alcoholism, and how they had no place to turn to, he started the Heart of a Lion along with his wife, Daya, and a few of their close friends.
Anyone could utilize the shelter and its services, whether it was a woman, a woman and her children, a man, or a man and his children. Heart of a Lion firmly believed women weren’t the only ones suffering from abuse. They opened their doors to anyone in need, but the women and their children were housed separately from the men and their children.
“Sorry to bother you on your vacation, Christoph, but a woman called for help and said she would only let you in. I would have sent someone else if I didn’t hear the fear in her voice,” Lynn said.
“No problem, Lynn, I needed to get out of the house. What is the address?” Cris asked as he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his gun, badge, and cuffs.
Christoph was already in his car and pulling away from the curb by the time Lynn finished giving him the address and everything else she knew.
****
Christoph checked the address on the paper twice before stepping out of the car. As he approached the home, the memory of the bad news he had delivered Arie almost a year ago invaded his mind. She was the only woman who made his heart skip a beat and consumed his thoughts. He couldn’t help but think about what they could have become now if he hadn’t signed up for that undercover assignment a few weeks before they met. The assignment took a little over six months to complete; he had ripped apart an underground trafficking ring. He would have called her as soon as he got back if he had her number but he didn’t, so instead he decided to head over there. However, before he could make it back to Ari, his partner was shot. He went after the men who shot Derrick and then soon after that his sister was murdered. The sound of glass shattering caught his attention, causing him to pick up his pace. When he heard what sounded like a woman’s muffled screams, he quickly alternated between banging on the door and ringing the doorbell. Seconds to him felt like hours and he couldn’t wait any longer. Cris drew his gun and was about to kick down the door when it quickly flew open.
“Step outside quickly, Ms. De’Laross,” Cris said as he tried to move around Arie to peek into the room.
“What are you doing here, Detective Crow?” Arie asked as she glared at him with a hint of confusion on her face.
She would remember that voice for the rest of life, she had heard it in her dreams right before waking up in a cold sweat. Now she was finally able to put a face with the name of the detective who informed her of her parents’ deaths. Her eyes fixated on his deep, chocolate brown, almond shaped eyes. His body was built like a runner’s body, muscled but not too big, he was sleek, just the way she liked a man’s body. He had deep Cherokee features with a dark olive tone skin and a dimple in his left cheek. Arie knew if she were to walk up to him, she would be able to fit under his chin perfectly, making him somewhere around six foot two. A spark of electricity shot through her when their eyes connected. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, it was as if he had a spell put on her and she just couldn’t gaze away.
Quit looking at him like that, Arie thought as she fought to tear her gaze away.
Cris was dazed for a few moments, unable to speak. She was just as he remembered her. Jet-black hair flowing down her back with strong, high cheekbones that reminded him of his beautiful ancestors. Full lips that instantly pulled you in and if that wasn’t enough, light brown eyes with green specks in them that seemed to draw him in as if he was prey. Eyes that looked familiar. Smooth dark caramel skin that had him wishing he had the courage to reach out and caress her face just once.
“I got a call from dispatch saying you needed an officer here and would only let me in,” Cris finally answered.
“I never called dispatch, Detective Crow,” Arie said with a raised eyebrow.
“Either way I have to check your home now, so please step aside and stay right here,” Cris said as he stepped around her and into her home.
Normally she would have protested, but she didn’t have the energy at the moment so she let him by.
Wow, somebody likes sail boats, Cris thought five minutes later as he walked back to the front of the house.
“All clear, you can come in now,” Cris called out to Arie as he walked toward the door.
“I could have told you that, now how about you leave my damn house,” Arie said. She knew he was doing his job, but she was still pissed. She hated when people just stepped in and took over for her without listening.
“How could you when you cannot even see, and what is with the glasses? Plus, there is still the matter of the phone call.” Cris knew the signs. He wasn’t leaving until everything got sorted out.
“One, the glasses are from my eye surgery, and two, I can see again. Three, I repeat, I never called dispatch or anyone else today, and four, none of this is your damn business,” Arie said as she slammed the door, crossed her arms in front of her body, and stared at Cris with a death stare.
Cris ignored her and made his way over to the laptop on the living room table. He hated when people tried to protect their abusers, especially when someone was trying to help them. He didn’t want to outright confront her about it and have her close up any more than she already was.
“Hey, what are you doing with my laptop? Just because you’re a cop does not mean you can barge your way into my home and act like you live here,” Arie said as she made her way toward him.
“I am about to prove you called dispatch a few minutes ago and then you are going to stop lying to me,” Cris said as he logged into his account to look for the report of the call Lynn had sent to him.
When he found the report, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and began to dial the number from the report.
“Hello,” Arie answered her ringing phone.
“If you didn’t call, then why is your number in the report?” Cris asked as he stared at her.
“There is no way my number is in the report,” Arie said.
“Let’s listen to the call since you still insist it wasn’t you,” Cris said as Arie sat down next to him trying to peek over at the computer as he pressed play.
Cris grew angry as the report played, someone was playing a joke on him, and he didn’t find it funny.
“Did you have anything to do with this?” Cris growled out as he stood and began to pace when the call was over.
“No, I h
ave no clue what you are talking about,” Arie answered.
“My sister, that is my sister’s voice,” Cris hotly said as he balled his hands into a fist, tight enough to cut off his circulation.
“I don’t see what the problem is, maybe your sister is playing a trick on you, but I don’t see why she would send you to my house,” Arie said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“You don’t get it! My sister is dead!” Cris yelled out as he punched the wall closest to him.
‘Here I am, Cristo.’ They both jumped as Grace’s voice echoed throughout the house. Newspapers began to drop out of thin air until they covered the entire floor.
“What the hell is going on?” they both asked at the same time, with confusion and utter disbelief written on both their faces.
Arie leaned down and picked up the closest paper to her, looked at it and then picked up another. All of the papers had one thing in common: on the front page was the Daytime killer. Cris did the same thing as Arie on the other side of the room.
‘Arie, I know you believe in ghosts, help me help my brother believe,’ the same voice from the night of the hospital whispered into Arie’s ear.
Arie nodded her head as if to answer the sprit, ghost or whatever it was. She had always believed in something beyond the living word, especially since she had been seeing ghosts since she was little. Arie had never told anyone about her ability to see ghosts because she knew they would think she was crazy. When she lost her eyesight, she could hear them but couldn’t see them. The spirits’ voices were the only actual comfort she had in the dark all alone, whenever her father was away. Without a doubt in her mind, she knew it was Cris’s sister talking to her and for some reason she had brought them together. She also knew Grace hadn’t crossed over to the afterlife because her spirit was restless. When someone’s spirit was restless, it usually meant they had to finish something before they could move on.
Cris didn’t know what to think at first, he could pretend he didn’t hear Grace talking to him, but now that Arie had heard her as well, he couldn’t. He didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits, let alone hear them. But how could he continue to ignore what he knew was possible all along. He didn’t want to believe in his family’s ancestral powers so he fought it like hell, even as a child. Cris didn’t know what to believe right now, he was at a crossroads. On one hand he believed and on the other he just couldn’t.
‘You have to learn to accept who you truly are,’ Grace whispered to Cris.
Arie turned to Cris and said when he sat on the couch, “Your sister needs our help.”
“Don’t tell me you believe in that, too,” Cris said as he looked at her.
Just as the final words left his mouth, the blinds started to move up and down on their own, while the doors began to open and slam shut. Cris quickly threw his hands up and unconsciously yelled stop in his head.
“How about this, you ask me a question only your sister would know and if I am right, you help me bring peace to her spirit,” Arie shot back at him with her arms folded in front of her. She hated when people didn’t see what was right in front of them or chose to ignore it.
“What did you used to sing when mom and dad used to argue?” Cris asked the only question he knew Grace would only have the answer to.
‘I use to go to your room and sing “Family Portrait” by Pink to try to block everything out,’ Arie repeat word for word what Grace said.
“What did Grace call her teddy bear I won her from the fair, when only the two of us was around?” Cris asked. He knew Arie wouldn’t get this.
“It wasn’t a teddy bear it was a brown horse with a star between its eyes. I called it Dancing Star when everyone else was around and Star Gazer when it was just the two of us.” Again Arie repeated each and every word Grace spoke back to Cris.
“Okay enough, I believe you both now,” Cris said, he couldn’t take it anymore hearing Grace’s answers come through Arie. It was stirring up emotions he couldn’t or didn’t want to deal with.
“How about you tell me why you finally decided to get the surgery? The last time we talked you said you didn’t know whether you were going through it or not,” Cris said, needing to change the subject quickly.
“You—before you left to go on your case you told me life was about seizing the moments, especially when you are scared. The only reason I was hesitant about the surgery was because I was scared and those parting words from you was the push I needed,” Arie said.
Detective Christoph Crow, Grace Crow, aw hell. Arie suddenly gasped as she made the connection in her head.
“What?” Cris asked as he watched Arie cover her mouth with her hands and look at him.
“I got a peek at the name of the person’s eyes I received when no one was looking. The name on the paper was Grace Crow—I have your sister’s eyes. Why didn’t I make the connection before?” Arie said as she looked at him with wide eyes.
“This is too many coincidences, it’s like the universe is conspiring for us to come together,” Cris said, breaking the silence after a few moments.
“Here we go again, you and your conspiracy theories. I cannot remember how many times you came up with a way the universe has conspired against us,” Arie said as she let out a snort and looked at him.
Cris used conspiracy theories to explain everything he didn’t have an answer for. Whether it was the weather changing on him out of nowhere and ruining his plans because of it. A flat tire in the middle of nowhere causing him to bump into someone who he needed or they needed him. His mother and sister would tell him it was because of his ancestors, but he was having none of that. So instead he explained it by saying it was all a conspiracy theory from the universe.
She quickly snapped out of her thoughts and focused on Cris. She knew he had to be hurting just as she was when her parents had died. He had helped her come out of the shock of her parents’ death and she felt as though it was time for her to help him.
“What was the last thing Grace said you?” Arie asked.
Christoph had asked her some of the same questions to snap her out of the shock of her parents’ death. He came over each day and asked her questions no one else had ever thought to ask her. Not only did he ask the questions he answered his own questions. They shared their secrets, their most personal thoughts and fears. Arie didn’t know what it was about the stranger, but it felt as though she could tell him anything and she knew he felt the same way.
“Grace told me she thought she found him and was about to break the biggest case in history. She was so excited when she told me this but we were short on time and she wasn’t able to tell me what she was talking about,” Cris said.
“What do you think she was talking about?” Arie asked.
“It had to be a case she was working on, a high profile one. And the only high profile case right now is the Daytime Killer,” Cris answered.
As they talked more about Grace’s last words to Cris, they realized Grace must have figured out who the Daytime killer was just before she was killed.
Cris and Arie decided to retrace Grace’s footsteps and start their own investigation together. To figure out who was the Daytime killer and help free Grace’s restless soul.
Chapter Three
The next morning Cris held the door open for Arie as she walked into Grandma Jean’s Waffle House, where the best waffles were made, and held wonderful memories of her and her father. Jack, Arie’s father, would bring her here after one of his business trips. When she was younger she would count down the days on a calendar until her father came home. It was the only time she was able to be a carefree child, free of her mother for a few hours. After the best pancakes, they would head over to her father’s boat and sail the day away. She lived for those moments when she was able to escape her mother’s hatred and live as a child was supposed to. This place represented all the wonderful times she had as a child and it hadn’t changed one bit.
The day before her accident was the last day she had been
to Grandma Jean’s Waffle House. Arie felt if she wasn’t able to sail why temp herself with the smell of the ocean or the cool breeze cascading over her body as the waves blew in. Or hear the sounds of the rollerblades hitting the black marble tile floor if she couldn’t see the waitresses do their tricks. Let alone challenge her father to a game of air hockey in the arcade behind the red booths that were pushed up against the walls. There were no tables and chairs, just the booths so the waitresses could have room for the tricks they performed on their skates.
The walls were still filled with black-red-and white tiles in the shape of triangles.
Cris followed behind Arie to the back booths. The waitress quickly approach them with their menus and water in hand.
“Hi, I am Joycelyn and I will be you server today. Let me know when you guys are ready to order,” the waitress said before turning around and topping off the coffee for the couple in front of them.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Arie said in more of a statement than question as she looked across the table at Cris.
“What’s hard?” Cris lifted his head up from behind the menu and asked.
“Losing someone close to you and not being able to say good—bye to them. Feeling like apart of you is missing now,” Arie answered with a sadness to her voice that matched the look in her eyes.
She didn’t know why she told him that other than for some reason she felt close to him. Like she could be herself and he wouldn’t judge or belittle her at all. It was as if he saw the true her without trying too hard. His eyes were so kind and open they had her wanting to spill her soul and tell him about her childhood. Something she never wanted to talk to anyone about, including her therapist, but somehow the person who was sitting across from her had her wanting to tell him everything: the good, bad, and ugly, which wasn’t good. She wanted to tell him her deepest, darkest secrets. How she could see and hear ghosts, besides his sister, ever since she was a little girl and how they would knock on her bed or some other kind of hard surface, alerting her that they were there and wanted to talk. Other times they were just there to protect her from the darkness she found herself drowning in.
The Eyes Tell No Lies Page 4