Bad Boy Soldier (The Bad Boy Series Book 3)
Page 10
"What's this?" I asked, glancing at her face, which was white.
"I was just going to call you again," she said and sat down beside me, one of her arms going around my shoulder. "Spencer's dead."
My eyes flew open and I gasped out loud. "What?"
"I tried to call you a few minutes ago but you didn’t answer. I texted you as well."
I removed my phone and stared at it. The battery had died in the night and I didn’t think of charging it.
"Oh, my God, my battery died." I showed it to her. Then I turned back to the television. Amy increased the volume so we could listen. "Spencer's dead?"
Of course, my mind went immediately to Hunter. He'd left me in the night and had punched Spencer out the previous day.
Had he killed Spencer?
If he didn’t kill Spencer yesterday before he came to me, he could have killed him in the night after he left me…
"Oh, my God," I said as I watched the video footage, taken from a helicopter which was hovering above a path along the bay by Alexandria, Virginia. I remembered that Spencer used to live there, had worked there after he graduated from law school.
According to the news report, his body had been found in a copse of trees by the path. He'd been shot. That was all the news reporter said.
Spencer was shot… He hadn’t been beaten to death—so at least that much was true. Hunter hadn't beaten him to death by accident the previous day.
What was Spencer doing in Alexandria? Why had he gone there late at night?
More importantly, where was my mother?
"Give me your phone," I said and reached for it when she grabbed it from the coffee table. "I have to call my mom."
I dialed my mom's cell, and the call went to voice mail right away. I glanced at Amy, panic rising in me. "She's not answering."
I listened to the message and then spoke. "Mom, call me right away and let me know you're okay!"
I didn’t know what else to do so I called my Auntie Diane, who lived in New Bedford. She answered right away.
"Hi, Auntie," I said, my heart pounding in my chest. "Have you spoken with my mother?"
"No," she said and I could hear the panic in her voice. "I've been calling her ever since I heard on the news that Spencer was murdered. I've called the police and they're on their way to the house to check."
"Oh, my God," I said. "I can't believe it."
"What was he doing in Alexandria?" she asked, sounding confused. "He hasn't been there for fifteen years."
"I have no idea."
Of course, I had some idea. Hunter had told me he found out something about Spencer from when he lived in Alexandria. He'd asked me questions about whether Spencer had ever sexually abused me, so I had assumed Spencer had done something bad there—child pornography?
I watched in silence as the news report showed a picture of Spencer from stock footage they must have had from cases in which Spencer had been the DA or Assistant DA. They also showed a photo of our family, with Spencer and my mother, Graham and me. It was probably one of the only photos taken of us and it was one I hated because Spencer had his hands on my shoulder. I was frowning.
I wondered who had given them that photo, then remembered that the local paper had done a spread about Spencer when he became Assistant DA back when he and my mother were first together. I’d hated him back then. I hated him now.
He was dead. I couldn’t get in touch with my mother.
I called Hunter's number, and listened as the line rang and rang. Finally, it went to voice mail.
"Hunter, it's me, Celia. Have you heard the news? Spencer's dead and I can't get a hold of my mother. Call me right away."
Where was Hunter?
"I don't know what to do," I said, glancing at Amy.
"You can't go to class," she replied.
"Should I call Graham? He should know."
"Do you want to go to your mom's house?"
I nodded and stood up. "James will take me. Come with me," I said and grabbed her hand. "I don't want to go through this alone."
"Let's go."
When we reached the car, James was standing there, waiting. "What's the matter?" he asked when he saw me. "Your face is white as a ghost."
"Can you take me to my mother's place? My stepfather's dead. I need to see if she's okay and she's not answering the phone."
"Sure," he said and opened the door. "You should call Hunter."
"I tried, but there's no answer."
"Call George," he said and I nodded, getting in the rear passenger side. Amy got in the other side and we drove off.
I dialed Hunter's number once more but there was still no answer and it went to voice mail again.
"Hunter, please, call me when you get this."
Then, I dialed George's number. He answered on the second ring.
"George," I said, my mind a blur. "Is Hunter there? He's not answering his phone."
"No, he is not. I haven’t talked for several hours."
"When you talk to him, tell him to call me right away."
"What is wrong?"
I took in a deep breath. "My stepfather's dead," I said and closed my eyes.
"Oh, I am sorry," George said, his voice sounding shocked. "Was not Hunter."
"Are you sure?" I said, feeling very bad about the prospect that Hunter may have killed Spencer. "He hated Spencer. He blames Spencer for his brother's death."
"No," George said, his voice a little more certain. "I know. He didn't kill."
"Then where is he?"
"I don't know. He will call soon. Don't worry."
"Tell him to call me," I said and then hung up.
I wasn't sad that Spencer was dead—just shocked and fearful that Hunter had killed him. Fearful that I couldn’t get in touch with my mother. Had whoever killed Spencer killed her as well?
Amy took my hand and together, we watched out the windows in silence as the streets of Boston passed by.
END OF BOOK THREE
BOOK FOUR will be out in June!
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S. E. Lund writes new adult, contemporary, erotic and paranormal romance. She lives in a century-old house on a quiet tree-lined street in a small city in Western Canada with her family of animals and humans. She dreams of living in a place where snow is just a word in a dictionary.
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