by T. I. Lowe
Leah looked at Crowley. “Lydia?”
“Yeah. My grandmother. She followed in the footsteps of her dad who was a lawyer as well,” Crowley said as he ran his hand over the name plate in question.
“That’s a long line of lawyers.” Leah admired the rich history of it.
“Yeah. It runs through my veins.”
Leah decided to stop stalling and stood a bit straighter, trying to muster up some courage. “Good thing for me…because I’m in need of a lawyer.”
Crowley sighed as the words sank in. Maybe he really didn’t want to know, he thought. “Then I guess we need to go have a seat in my office.”
Leah turned to Crowley J. Mason IV’s office, but Crowley gestured towards Crowley J. Mason III’s office. “I moved into my dad’s office after law school. Come on in.” He opened the door and led the way.
The office was of a good size with a massive, intricately-carved, antique cherry desk in the middle of the room. Two wingback chairs sat in front of it and a large leather chair that looked buttery soft sat grandly behind it. Leah sat in one of the wingback chairs as Crowley took his seat behind the desk and pulled out a legal pad. Even though he was casually dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, Leah was impressed at how quickly he took on the air of a professional lawyer.
He sat with a pen ready and patiently waited. When she remained quiet, Crowley tried to get the ball rolling. “How may I be of service to you, Miss Allen?”
Leah struggled to form the words and went on the defensive. “I gave you enough information before you left so you could find out everything. Why didn’t you?”
“It’s your story. I want to hear it from you,” he said matter-of-factly.
Leah took another unsteady breath and tried again. “I was married to the devil himself for the past ten years. He gave me all these scars.” She gestured towards her body.
“Was. So that means you’re divorced?” Crowley asked as he jotted the information down, already forming a plan to find the man and put a few scars on him.
“No. I killed him,” Leah whispered. She couldn’t believe she said it out loud. She watched a stunned Crowley drop his pen as his mouth fell open. She couldn’t take it. She stood abruptly and knocked the heavy chair over in the process. Leah bolted out of the townhouse.
Crowley sat there frozen in place for several minutes before he could unglue his legs and go find Leah. He called Lulu’s cellphone and explained in a rush what Leah confessed and asked her not to leave the upset woman.
Tears streamed down her face as Leah made her way into the closed café. Instead of going up stairs to begin packing, Leah headed over to the display case and snatched up a piece of sliced chocolate cake. There was movement behind her. She spun around to find Lulu walking out of the kitchen, carrying a chocolate cake she had just finished frosting.
“You know that won’t fix anything,” Lulu said quietly. She caught a glimpse of Crowley easing into the shadows of the back hall, visibly shaken. Poor boy.
“Can’t I just eat this in peace?” Leah snapped. “Alone!”
Lulu set the cake on the counter and placed her hand on Leah’s trembling arm. “Honey, he can’t hurt you ever again.”
Leah yanked away from the woman’s grasp and threw the slice of cake back down. She almost screamed when she let loose the anguish of the nightmare. All the walls she had built up crumbled, and everything she had held onto flooded out.
Crowley began to move into view, but Lulu met his gaze and gave her head a slight shake to warn him to stay put. She knew this broken girl had to let it out.
Lulu repeated, “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Don’t you dare say that to me.” Leah held her palm up for Lulu to view. “This scar was my punishment for burning his supper one night. He held it to the gas burner. It still tingles from the nerve damage—still!”
She pulled her hair back so Lulu could see the long scar behind her ear. “I have another burn. I earned this one with a flat iron for not having my hair perfectly straight by the time my husband arrived home early one day.” She let her hair fall back down. “He got the iron as hot as it would get and branded me, saying he bet I would never forget to do my hair again. He was absolutely right.”
Leah exposed her ankle. “This aches every time it rains from being slung down a staircase for wearing heels that were too high,” she said between tears. “Broken so bad it required surgery.”
Leah turned away from Lulu and yanked her yoga pants down a bit so the little lady could get a good look at the jagged scar on her hip. “This beaut was acquired from a fire poker I was beaten with.” She pulled her pants back over her thin hip and turned to face a stunned Lulu.
Lulu began to say something but Leah moved on. She cradled her neck with her hands. “You want to know why I can never turn my head but only so far to the right?”
Lulu just shook her head, thoroughly shell-shocked at all of the scars riddling the young woman’s body.
“He choked me one night until I passed out. This was after he shook me so hard that I heard something pop in my neck. But that didn’t stop him from choking me again two more times after that….You saw the bruises, didn’t you?” Leah watched as Lulu nodded.
“And right now it throbs from me yelling, and I know I won’t be able to even move it tomorrow.” Leah angrily wiped the tears away, trying to be tough. “Ask me what the doctor says is wrong with my neck. Go ahead, ask.”
“What’s wrong with your neck?” Lulu asked cautiously.
“Who knows? He wouldn’t let it be seen by a doctor.” Leah raised her hands in the air. “Instead, I was locked in a closet for one week so Brent wouldn’t have to be reminded of what he did to me.”
Leah was sobbing loudly and trembling uncontrollably. “So don’t you dare tell me he can’t ever hurt me again. He does it EVERY day of my life!” She clenched her belly and nearly doubled over. “And it hurts so deep inside here that sometimes I can’t even breathe,” she whispered. She straightened back up. “So how dare you tell me that cake won’t make it better? It’s the only way I can numb it.”
Lulu braved to speak. “It seems to me that Crowley was numbing it pretty well.”
“Well…I killed my husband so I’m pretty darn sure that’s over with. Right now all I want is that piece of cake!” Leah shouted with a fresh wave of anger.
Lulu picked up the slice of cake and placed it back in the case, causing Leah to raise her hands in defeat. Lulu pulled out two forks, handed one to Leah, and grabbed up the layer cake she just finished frosting. She set it on the nearest table. “We are going to eat all the cake we want.”
The women sat down before the cake and dug their forks into the side of it. Still sobbing and hiccupping, Leah shoved an oversized bite into her mouth. Lulu, nauseous from hearing about Leah’s abuse, followed suit and shoved her own oversized bite into her mouth. She knew this would only make Leah feel worse, but Lulu was determined to share the burden with her.
Lulu looked over Leah’s shivering shoulder at Crowley, who was shaking as well. She knew the best thing for him to do was go calm down, so she subtly waved him to leave. He hesitated briefly before slipping out of the door.
****
Crowley walked over to the river bank by his townhouse and sat in the tall grass. All of the scars and all of the reasons for them flashed through his head. “Stupid accident…” he huffed. It was how she described them. “Stupid accident,” he repeated, shaking his head. Bile rose up in his throat as he tried to imagine the pain from having your hand held to a gas flame…or pain from a fire poker piercing into your flesh…or how excruciating it had to have been to have an iron branded into your skin…
He bent over onto his knees and vomited up bile. He knew her news was going to be bad, but he could have never imagined how severe.
A while later, Lulu found Crowley sitting on the bank, staring vacantly out over the water. “She went to bed just before seven o’clock. The poor girl had to have been
wiped completely out,” Lulu whispered.
“She eat that whole cake?” he asked hoarsely.
Lulu shook her head. “She barely ate enough to make up a slice. I think she realized that cake couldn’t make her feel better.”
Something snapped inside Crowley. “After everything that woman has been through…If she wants cake, then you let her eat cake!” He shot her a stern look as he yelled.
Lulu flinched. “Crowley Mason, you will never holler at me like that again, young man. I know you’re devastated by all this. I am too, but cake won’t fix what’s broken in that poor girl.” She paused to calm her voice before continuing. “You think putting about a hundred pounds back on is any good for her?”
“I don’t care…if it makes her feel better,” he said wearily.
“Did she look like it was working for her when she arrived here last year?” Lulu asked.
Images of the broken woman flashed before Crowley’s eyes. That man had to have beaten her within an inch of her life. She didn’t tell Lulu about any of those wounds except for the one on her neck…He shook the painful images away. He stood abruptly and stormed off in the direction of his office. He was determined to fix whatever mess Leah was in, he just didn’t know how, yet.
Lulu watched him as he yanked the back door of his townhouse open and stomped inside. She sat on the bank and whispered a prayer for help.
Crowley went straight to his kitchen and started brewing a pot of strong coffee. At the moment he was running on pure adrenaline and anger, but knew he would eventually crash from that and would need the caffeine to help him get through the work ahead.
He stormed into his office and powered up his desk top computer as well as his laptop. There were still a lot of puzzle pieces missing from Leah’s story that Crowley would have to figure out on his own.
Crowley called Matt as he poured his first cup of coffee and asked for his help. Matt promised to get on it immediately and call Crowley back with any news. Crowley sat at his desk and tried to shake off as much emotion as possible. He had to focus and turn his lawyer skills on.
Crowley had enough information gathered and had a flight booked to Washington by the time the first hints of sunlight appeared. Matt had called a few of his connections, and his connections had called their connections, which led them to finding the lead investigator of Brent and Gabriella Sadler’s case. The investigator eagerly agreed to meet Crowley at the airport.
With all the trip details settled, Crowley powered down his laptop and placed it into his briefcase with the other information. He pushed away from his desk and headed upstairs to pack a carry-on bag and to shower.
After dressing in a button down shirt, jeans, and a pair of casual brown leather shoes, Crowley grabbed a blue sports jacket, his bags, and headed out. He made a pit stop at the café to check on Leah before heading to the airport. He found Lulu in Leah’s normal spot behind the counter. The café was still empty at the early hour.
“You up early,” Lulu said as she looked up. She eyed him closely. “Or maybe it’s time for bed.”
“Where’s Leah?”
“She hasn’t come down yet,” Lulu said as she poured him a cup of coffee and watched him instantly drain it. “After yesterday’s breakdown I told her to take the day off.”
Crowley’s eyes wandered to the direction of the stairs. Lulu knew he was about to take off to see Leah.
“Just let her have some space, okay?”
With his gaze still glued in the direction of the stairs, Crowley reluctantly agreed. “Yes ma’am. I’ve got a flight to catch anyway. Can I get some coffee and a sandwich to go?”
“Where you heading?” Lulu asked as she began toasting an English muffin.
“I’m heading to Washington. I don’t intend on coming back until I fix this mess for Leah.” He watched Lulu assemble his sandwich. He softly placed his hand on top of hers to still her. “Miss Lulu, I love you dearly and am completely ashamed of myself for how I talked to you yesterday. It was very disrespectful. I hope you can forgive me,” he said sincerely.
Lulu placed her other hand over his massive one and stared into his somber eyes. “Honey, you were disrespectful, but if you ever had an excuse to act that way, it was definitely yesterday. I love you too. And you know I have already forgiven you.” She squeezed his hand before releasing it to finish his breakfast.
Lulu watched Crowley as he noticed the partially-eaten cake sitting in the display case. “Whatcha reckon I ought to do with that? It’s pretty good. I sure hate to have to throw it away.”
“Put it into a to-go box. I have a long few days ahead. I think I could use the extra sugar boost.”
Lulu did as he asked, slicing it before sliding it into a container and handing it over to him.
Crowley gathered everything and placed a kiss on Lulu’s cheek. He looked back over towards the staircase, hesitant on leaving without seeing Leah. “Tell her I’m going to take of things, and I’ll be back in a few days.”
Lulu nodded. “Be careful.”
“Yes ma’am.” Crowley slipped out the door.
Lulu looked out the window and watched Crowley load up his truck and pull away from the curb. There goes the knight in shining armor on his way to battle. She couldn’t help but be pure proud of the man Crowley Mason had become. She said a quiet prayer for his protection and that God would help him be brave enough to handle whatever he uncovered on his crusade to rescue his damsel.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Crowley’s plane touched down in Olympia, Washington, late Tuesday afternoon. As he made his way through the terminal’s waiting area, he spotted a bald-headed man in a blue suit who fit the description of the investigator. He glanced up from a file in his hand and seemed to recognize Crowley as well.
“Crowley Mason?” he asked, his hand outstretched.
Crowley shook his hand. “That’s me.”
“I’m detective Mitch Collins. I hear you’ve found our girl.” He released Crowley’s hand and tapped the thick file he was holding.
“I may have. That’s why I’ve flown out here.” There was no way he was admitting anything to this man.
Mitch quietly chuckled. “Spoken like a true lawyer. Let’s go get to work.” He led Crowley out of the airport to a waiting late model sedan and opened the trunk for the carry-on bag.
As both men got situated in the car, Mitch told Crowley the plan. “I figured the best thing for us to do is head on over to the Sadler’s loft, and I can fill you in on the investigation from there.”
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to the swanky loft. Mitch led Crowley through the garage, where a Range Rover and Mercedes Sports Coup sat abandoned.
Mitch motioned over to the Range Rover. “That is Mrs. Sadler’s vehicle. It was found with the passenger and driver’s side doors open.”
The investigator then led Crowley up the stairs that led into the loft. Crowley couldn’t help but wonder if those were the same set of stairs that Leah had been thrown down. His gut told him yes.
Mitch unlocked the door and revealed a modern space that looked more like a museum than a home. He stopped in the foyer and shuffled through a stack of photographs he pulled from the file. “A cleaning crew came in and scrubbed the place clean, so I brought along the photos.” He handed one over to Crowley. It was a picture of the foyer with a few small drops of blood on the white floor. “A grocery delivery guy arrived at one o’clock that day with a grocery order. He found the front door wide open, noticed some blood on the floor and called the police.” Mitch pointed to the blood. “Those were probably from some small superficial wounds. We think a small scuffle between the spouses happened here and then led to the bedroom.
Mitch led Crowley deeper into the loft to the master bedroom. The bedding and mattress had been removed. He motioned Crowley to join him in the large walk-in closet, where he handed over a few more pictures. Crowley looked each one over. One showed a full shot of a tousled mess with clothes pulled down and glass
shattered all over the floor with bloody footprints leading out. Another photo was a close up of one of the bloody footprints.
Mitch tapped the photo. “The footprint is the same size as Mrs. Sadler’s foot.”
“Where did the glass come from?” Crowley asked as he imagined Leah cornered in the space, frightened.
“A bourbon bottle. Rumor has it that Mr. Sadler was quite a fan of the stuff. The autopsy proved that he was pretty pickled.” Mitch pointed out a bloody towel thrown on the floor in one of the photos. “This was still damp so we think Mrs. Sadler tried to clean up before disappearing.”
With that comment, Mitch directed Crowley to the master bath next and handed over more photos of the crime scene. These photos showed more bloody footprints as well as bloody streaks along the wall and floor. Crowley figured she was stumbling around, unsteady on her feet. Another shot showed the white shower floor covered in thick pink tinges of blood and a few bloody towels scattered on the floor.
Mitch moved back into the bedroom and stood by the bedframe. He hesitated before handing Crowley the stack of photos. “These are of Brent Sadler’s body.”
Crowley nodded his head and held out his hand. “I’ve survived some pretty gruesome murder trials, Mr. Collins. I think I can handle it.” He accepted the photos from Mitch.
Crowley studied the first photo. The man in the photos was older than he expected. Instead of seeing a dead man in his twenties, he saw one in his forties. The dead man stared blankly at the camera with empty eyes as he lay in an odd position on his side. Some more glass was shattered by the bed, and blood streaked the pillow beside Brent’s head.
Crowley flipped through to another image in which the white cover had been moved to expose a puddle of blood on the center of the mattress.
“You want to know the wildest part about all of this?” Mitch asked.