Obsession and Sacrifice (Alaska #2)

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Obsession and Sacrifice (Alaska #2) Page 26

by Tiffany Carmouche


  “My friend Clark, who I mentioned earlier, owns several art galleries throughout the country. He is teaching a session in Alaska. At Alaska Pacific they have the tools you need to create a huge sculpture. I would like you to do a life-size sculpture of my son. I can pay for your classes in exchange for the sculpture. There you will have all the materials you need.”

  “I can’t ask you for money for school.”

  “I am commission a piece to pay for the education. If you make me a sculpture of my son, you will owe me nothing. I can probably get you a job at one of the galleries. I have a lot of friends I can refer you to. If it is something you are interested in doing.”

  “That would be a dream.”

  The waiters came out with a try of appetizers and poured each of us a glass of wine. Mr. Richardson picked up his glass and took a sip.

  “People are always commissioning pieces for their lobbies and building and galleries. When people ask what you are, Nicole, you tell them you are a commissioned artist. I would love to have a sculpture of Dylan. Really, I never see him anymore.” He raised his glass to toast.. “You really have a gift.” He took another sip. “Perhaps when it is complete, I can commission you to make a piece of my wife.”

  “Mr. Richardson, I can’t accept your money.”

  “I am not giving you anything, Nicole. You have to sculpt me a piece. You are earning the money.”

  “I would be honored to make you a sculpture, sir.”

  “Please don’t call me sir. Call me Lawrence. He’s a good frind of mine, I knew him when we lived in Alaska. Here is his card.”

  Chapter 64

  *Sarah*

  Sarah showed Justin the DVD, horrified. “He set me up. That bastard set me up.”

  “You unplugged the life support?”

  “I thought the bitch was practically dead anyway. I figured it would just speed it along. The nurse told me it would be the compassionate thing to do. He said I was easing her pain.”

  “Yeah right, Sarah. This is really bad. He has you on tape. What are you going to do?”

  “He sent me this phone. He is supposed to call in five minutes. I needed your support, Justin. I can’t have anyone find out about this. You need to help me. I promise when Dylan and I get divorced and I get half, we will have an amazing life together.”

  The phone rang. “This must be him.”

  “Answer it. Find out what that prick wants. Put it on speaker so I can hear also.”

  “Hello.”

  “Sarah, how are you?”

  “What is this tape about? You set me up.”

  “No, I saved you. I took the tape out before anyone could see it. I saved you, Sarah.”

  “You told me that she would die, that the machine was all that was keeping her alive. Why is that bitch still here? She is ruining everything.”

  “That is why I am calling. You see, we have a common problem. I can help you get rid of her and you can have your Dylan.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You have to work quickly. You will need cyanide, a syringe, some wine, gloves and a yellow carnation.”

  Justin shook his head mouthing, “No way!”

  “Cyanide? I’m not going to poison her. How do I know you’re not setting me up again?”

  “It seems, Sarah, you really have no choice. I already have a copy of the DVD and can send it to the cops. I’m doing this for you, Sarah, and this way Dylan will be yours.”

  “I can’t. There’s no way I can do that.”

  “That is fine. I’ll bring this to the police; you’ll probably get twenty-five years for attempted murder. Goodbye Sarah.”

  “Wait, wait. How do I know you won’t just blackmail me later?”

  “Once Nicole is gone, I won’t have any reason to, will I? I’m just trying to finish the job I started. We can help each other, Sarah. You will soon have your Dylan.”

  “It was different when she was almost dead. This is different.”

  “Nicole has taken your Dylan away. Why should she win, Sarah? When she is gone, you will have a chance. You need her out of the way. She is alone there in that hotel. This is your chance.”

  “What do I have to do to get rid of that bitch?”

  Justin shook his head, “Sarah, don’t do it.”

  “I want you to make it look like it was me. I’m on the east coast now, so I can’t do it myself. But how perfect is it that she is there alone? Wear gloves and burn them when you are through. Make sure when you buy the cyanide you pay cash. The syringe needs to be long enough to make it through the cork. Do it now, before she gets back to the hotel room. It looks like she is just arriving at a restaurant. When she gets back, she will think room service sent it. But leave a yellow carnation so Dylan will know it was me. In most cases about 200mg should be enough for a cardiac arrest. Use 160mg. I just want her back in the hospital so I can finish her off myself.”

  “So there is no chance they will suspect me?”

  “No, and I’ll send you the original DVD of the hospital tape. Do it quickly, Sarah. Don’t let me down. You have only one hour before I bring this to the police. Video everything with the cell phone and send it to me. When I hear she has been poisoned, I’ll send you the tape and you’ll be free. Tick tock, tick tock. I have eyes everywhere. Tick tock.” Steve hung up the phone.

  “You can’t do it, Sarah. You can’t murder her. Send him proof on the cell so he’ll have more evidence against you? He could put it all over the internet so the cops can find it. That would be stupid for you to agree to.”

  “It’s not murder. We won’t give her enough to kill her. You heard him. What choice do I have? To spend the next twenty years behind bars? You have to help me, Justin.” She ran her hand against his chest.

  “Sarah, you can’t…”

  “You heard him, we just have an hour. He wants us to make it look like it was him anyway. We will post it from this cell phone. It’s not connected to us. And we don’t have to show our faces. We’ll be using gloves. I need your help, honey. You can’t let me go to prison. If we don’t do this, you heard him.” She moved even closer to him and rubbed her hand against his crotch. “For me Justin, please for me. I can’t go to jail. Please for me.”

  Chapter 65

  “I remember the love.”

  ~Nicole Carlise

  Obsession and Sacrifice

  Tiffany Carmouché

  *Nicole*

  Mr. Richardson brought me back up to my suite.

  “Would you like something to drink before you go?” I invited him in.

  “That would be lovely, thank you.”

  “Let me grab a couple of glasses.”

  The wine sat on the coffee table next to the couch. I hadn’t noticed it before. I guess they delivered it when we were gone.

  Using the couch to stable myself, I took a few steps. I leaned on the wall to bring myself into the area the glasses were in. I grabbed two and used the wall to bring me back to where Mr. Richardson was sitting.

  “What happened to you, Nicole?”

  “I really don’t remember and Brad and Dylan won’t tell me. They think my brain may have given me amnesia to block it out, although I did have head trauma as well. Only because they have told me, I know someone is trying to kill me and has been stalking me. I have to be careful when I’m not with them.”

  Mr. Richardson opened the bottle and poured each of us a glass.

  “It is weird because it has something to do with flowers like this one, a yellow carnation.” I picked up the single yellow carnation lying next to the bottle. I brought the flower to my nose to smell it.

  Mr. Richardson looked at me with a look of curiosity.

  “Yeah, Dylan freaks out every time he sees them, he thinks it is a sign the
killer is about to strike or something. I’m glad this flower wasn’t here when he was here. It is such a happy flower--it was thoughtful for you to send it to my room with the wine.” I lifted her glass to drink. Mr. Richardson immediately struck my hand and smashed the glass across the room. As if in slow motion, I watched as the burgundy liquid spilled out of the cup flying through the air. I couldn’t believe Mr. Richardson had smacked me.

  “I never would have sent you a carnation, Nicole. I’m sorry, honey. I have a bad feeling about this wine. I think it’s best we have your things moved to a room in my house on St. Charles Avenue where you will be safer. There is nothing to be alarmed about, but if Dylan has Chris working on this with him, we can’t take anything for granted.” Mr. Richardson picked up the phone and called for one of his men. When the guard arrived at the door, he handed him the bottle of wine.

  “Can you bring this to Luis and have it tested?”

  Chapter 66

  *Dylan*

  “Excuse me, sir. We are looking for the Carlisle family.” Dylan and Bradley had been knocking on doors for hours and were close to giving up hope.

  “Who is asking?” A man in his late fifties answered the door.

  “Are you Nicole Carlisle’s father?” Dylan asked, praying that they had finally come to the right residence.

  “Who is asking?” He looked around.

  “Mr. Carlisle, my name is Dylan Richardson, I was seeing your daughter while she was in Alaska and this is Bradley. We are very close to your daughter. Can we come in for a moment?”

  “I’m sorry young man. My daughter Nicole is no longer with us. She died a few months ago.” He began to close the door dismissing them as he would a door-to-door sales person.

  “You heard she was dead?” Bradley stopped him from closing the door.

  “Yes, the funeral was almost three months ago.”

  “Funeral?” They questioned in unison.

  “Well, the ceremony. We only received her ashes. She was cremated.” He sighed, looking down at the sidewalk. He couldn’t make eye contact. His eyes began to tear.

  “Mr. Carlisle we have been looking for you and your family. Is Jessica with you?”

  “Yes she is. She’s at school right now.”

  “Can we come in for a moment?”

  “I’m sorry, she’s no longer with us,” he repeated. He couldn’t hold back the tears.

  “Sir, it’s important we speak to you. But it is important you sit down. Is Mrs. Carlisle here, too?”

  “She is working now.”

  “Can we please have a few moments with you?”

  “I would rather not, it’s not a good time.” Mr. Carlisle shook his head wiping more tears..

  “Mr. Carlisle, it’s important you know.” Dylan pleaded, not wanting to release the information at the front door.

  “You will have to come back later,” he sighed as he began to close the door.

  “Your daughter survived,” Bradley blurted out. “Someone did attempt to murder her, but she is alive.”

  “What?” He stumbled, using the walls to steady himself. Both Dylan and Bradley grabbed his arms and brought him inside to sit down. “What are you saying?”

  “Bradley was able to save her. He helped defend her against her attacker. She was brutally beaten and had been in a coma. They didn’t think she would live, but she is alive. She woke up from the coma three months ago.” Dylan was so happy to finally find Nicole’s family, but he hadn’t thought about what he would do next.

  “Why hasn’t she tried to contact us? Why hasn’t she contacted Jessica? Where is she?”

  “She is in New Orleans right now, but we’ve been staying in Alaska. She had brain trauma. She is suffering from amnesia. She remembers tiny clips but still doesn’t know who she is. She doesn’t want anyone to see her like this. She is still recovering. Because of the brain trauma, she has to relearn to walk and we’re trying to help her remember her past. ”

  “My daughter is alive?”

  “Yes, she is almost walking again, she is a fighter! As soon as she is doing a little better, I’ll be bringing her here. We just had to find you first. She doesn’t want Jessica to know. She feels horrible she has a child and cannot remember her.”

  “Who is here, honey?” A middle aged woman walked through the door, holding Jessica’s hand.

  “Mr. Dylan!” Jessica came running in and jumped into his arms, giving him a big hug. “This is Mr. Dylan, mommy’s friend.” All of a sudden the joy she was overwhelmed with was silenced. Tears formed in her eyes, “My mommy went to heaven to be with God.” Her pain was evident. An empty feeling developed inside him as he witnessed the family in tears. To know how they had suffered--to think that they had a funeral for Nicole just a few months before.

  He had promised Nicole he wouldn’t say anything, but how do you allow a child to go on believing her mother was taken from her? He looked up at Bradley and Bradley nodded. They knew they had to tell Jessica, but how would they tell this sweet innocent girl that her mother had forgotten everything about her? How could they begin?

  Dylan wiped away Jessica’s tears. He sat on the couch, putting her on his lap. Bradley sat down next to her, touching her shoulder, trying to comfort her as Dylan began to explain.

  “Sweetie, she did go to heaven for a little bit, but she missed you so much she came back. She was sleeping in a coma but the doctors brought her out of the coma and she is alive.”

  “I knew it. I knew it! I knew she wouldn’t leave me! Where is she? Can we go see her? I miss her so much!”

  “Sweetie, she is still very sick and still getting better. She has to relearn to walk and she has something they call amnesia. Do you know what that is?”

  Mrs. Carlisle interrupted. “Is that true? Is my baby alive?” Dylan then realized he hadn’t told Mrs. Carlisle yet.

  “She is alive, but she was really badly injured.” Bradley began. “The doctors believe she possibly developed amnesia to protect herself, but she suffered from brain trauma as well. She doesn’t remember anything. She doesn’t remember who she is, who we are or anyone. She has tiny flashbacks, but it is taking time to bring her back.”

  “Not even me? Does she remember me?” Jessica’s eyes looked bewildered. Dylan and Bradley felt horrible they had gone against Nicole’s wishes. Perhaps it was easier for a child to understand death than it was for her to understand that her mother didn’t remember who she was. “I want to see her! I want my mommy!”

  “We will bring you to see her when she is feeling a little better, okay?”

  “Mr. Steve said he would take me. He said that he would take me to see her in heaven if I came with him.”

  “What?”

  “Mr. Steve said…”

  “Mr. Steve? Where did you see Mr. Steve?”

  “He was at my school. He wanted to bring me, but they wouldn’t let me go with him.”

  “Mr. Steve went to your school?” Dylan and Bradley looked at each other.

  “Yeah. He watches me on the playground sometimes. He came there today and gave me this.” She put her back pack on the floor and rummaged through it, pulling out a yellow carnation.” Dylan didn’t know where to begin. “They wouldn’t let him bring me to Mommy.”

  “You need to promise me something, Jessica. You can never go anywhere with Mr. Steve.”

  “But I want to see my Mommy.”

  How do they tell this little girl that the man she lived with tried to kill her mother and would hurt her.

  “It’s really important you promise me, Jess. Will you please promise me?”

  “But he gives me candy.”

  Dylan wasn’t sure how he was going to convince Jessica of the danger. She was so innocent, he didn’t know where to begin but Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle needed to know the d
anger. He looked at Bradley and Bradley nodded.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle, can I talk to you alone for a minute.” Bradley motioned them to the kitchen and they followed him inside.

  As Bradley warned the Carlisle’s of Steve. Dylan picked up Jessica and bought her outside and looked up into the sky.

  “The moon, the moon!” Jessica’s eyes opened big.

  “Do you know your mommy looks at that same moon, Jess? It makes her feel closer to you because she knows you can see it too. She loves you so much, Jess. We are trying to help her get better. You will see her really soon, okay?”

  “I really miss her, Mr. Dylan. Why doesn’t she remember me?”

  “She doesn’t even remember who she is, angel. Do you think you can help me? Maybe if we work together we can help her get her memory back.”

  “We’ll be a team.” She gave Dylan a hug. “You will see, Mr. Dylan. She will remember me. And she will remember you, too.”

  “I love your mommy, Jess.”

  “She loves you too. I saw her kissing you.”

  “You did, did you?”

  “Yeah, the mushy kind of kisses.”

  Dylan blushed, shaking his head.

  “Will you stay to see my show? I am going to be a princess. The real kind.”

  “When is it?”

  “This Saturday.” Knowing Steve was there, Dylan preferred Jess didn’t go to that school anymore. He would have liked to take her with them, but it was only a few days, and they could talk to the police and the principal about their concerns.

  “I would love to, Jess. I can’t wait to see your show.”

  “Mr. Dylan, will you read me a bedtime story?”

  “Of course, angel. What story would you like to hear?”

 

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