by Linda Verji
Captain Harrison only waved his hand but his answer was clear.
“It’s ours,” Shane confirmed with a grin.
Lucas went to work immediately. “We should find out if there’s CCTV footage of whoever left the money in Rosa’s mailbox.”
“I’ll do that,” Shane volunteered as they started down the hallway. “I wonder if she’s still got any of that money left or even the envelope it was sent in. Forensics might be able to find prints on it.”
“It’s worth a try,” Lucas agreed.
As it turned out both suggestions were dead-ends. After talking to Rosa again, they found out that she’d spent the money on paying her mortgage and had already burnt the envelope it was sent in. Quite conveniently, the footage captured by the CCTV cameras that watched the foyer to Rosa’s apartment where all the mailboxes were seemed to have been erased.
“Erased CCTV?” Lucas guffawed. “Why does that feel familiar?”
Shane caught on immediately. He frowned. “You think Michael Walcott has something to do with all this?”
“The kid was killed in his building then thrown off his building yet no one noticed anything odd.” Lucas asked, “Isn’t that too much of a coincidence?”
“It’s certainly suspicious,” Shane agreed. “We should talk to his employees. Maybe someone saw something.”
“Let’s go.” Lucas started to walk.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Shane grabbed his arm to stop him.
“What?”
“It’s eleven a.m., and neither of us has gotten any sleep since yesterday,” Shane reminded him as he dragged him towards the nap-room.
“We can sleep tomorrow.” Lucas tried to shrug his arm out of his partner’s grip but Shane was as determined as he was strong. He yanked him hard until they were in front of the door.
“Or we can talk to the employees tomorrow,” Shane countered. He opened the door then pushed Lucas into the room. “Walcott Management isn’t going anywhere.”
There was nothing fancy about the nap-room. It’d been created specifically to house cops who were pulling all-nighters and needed a bit of a break. All it had was a bunk-bed and one closet that no one dared open because it was so full of everyone’s crap, it would likely cause a landslide if opened.
“Hey, this is urgent.” Lucas tried to skirt past his partner.
“No.” Shane shifted right and left blocking his path. He pointed towards the bunk-bed. “Bed. Now.”
“I’m not sleepy,” Lucas complained.
“Get into that bed,” Shane threatened, “or so help me God I will tie to it myself and keep you there for a week.”
Lucas wanted to rebel against the threat but the look on Shane’s face said that he was quite willing to tackle Lucas to the ground if that’s what was needed to make him sleep. Cussing under his breath, Lucas reluctantly made his way to the bed. When he tried to take the lower bunk, Shane wordlessly pointed to the upper one. If Lucas slept on the upper bunk, Shane would be able to sense if he tried to sneak down.
God, the man was annoying! With a frustrated huff, Lucas heaved himself up to the top bunk-bed.
Surprisingly, he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
CHAPTER 12
Given everything that had happened, it was no surprise that Jasmine had A hard time falling asleep. Every time she closed her eyes, the feeling of being watched would overwhelm her. Instantly, she’d lose her breath as she imagined being strangled again.
When she wasn’t being strangled, she imagined herself in a coffin. In her dreams, she was already dead. Getting saved by those boys was just an illusion to escape the reality of her situation. By the time her body gave in to exhaustion, it was almost past six in the morning. Even then her sleep was fitful and plagued by nightmares.
She could’ve been asleep for minutes (it certainly felt like it), but when she woke it was because of the ringing of her phone.
“Ugh!” she groaned as she buried her face in the pillow. Instantly, a sharp pain speared through her face to center on her forehead reminding her that the bandage plastered there wasn’t for show. With a groan she turned to her back.
Ring. Ring. Ring. The phone beckoned sharply from the nightstand.
Jasmine shot the gadget a glare. Still, it kept ringing until she surrendered and sat up. As soon as she did, her body protested the movement. Every limb in her body ached, but her front seemed to be especially sensitive. Then she remembered why. Her attacker had slammed her chest first into the wall, and when she’d tried to keep him from leaving, she’d been on her knees. No wonder!
“Ow!” She winced as she reached for the phone. The moment she saw who was calling, all her senses came awake and the pain receded leaving only nervousness. She cleared her throat and made several ‘ah’ sounds to get rid of the sleep from her voice. Then she answered the call. “Hi, Mom.”
“What took you so long?” Yolanda Mitchell immediately started in on her. “Do you know how many times I’ve been trying to call you?”
“Sorry. I didn’t hear the phone.”
“How could you not hear it?” Yolanda’s voice turned suspicious. “Is my ringtone silence again? Or are you ignoring me again? Did Kenny tell you that I’ve been trying to get hold of you? Why have you been avoiding me?”
“Mom.” Jasmine sighed. “Which question do you want me to answer first?”
“Never mind all that.” Yolanda changed the topic. “How have you been? Are you eating well? How is the business going? I told you, you should have stayed in New Orleans. Now see how far it is out there. Is Los Angeles still hot? Are-”
“Mother,” Jasmine cut her off. Despite herself, she found herself grinning as she asked, “Are you going to let me answer your questions or will you just keep asking more?”
“Did I ask many questions?” There was a hint of embarrassment in Yolanda’s voice.
“Yes, but I’m used to it.” Jasmine grinned. “Why did you call me?”
“I just wanted to check on you.” Yolanda’s voice took on a hurt note. “Is it wrong for a mother to want to check on her daughter? Last night I had a bad dream about you. I dreamt that Pearl- you know Pearl, from next door, right?”
“I know Pearl.” Jasmine nodded.
“Well, I dreamt that she told me you were in an accident and that I had to go to the hospital,” Yolanda said. “Are you okay, baby?”
They say that some mothers have sharpened instincts when it comes to their children and can sense when their children were in danger. The saying was especially true for Yolanda. Whenever Jasmine was in trouble, she had the uncanny habit of sensing it even if she didn’t know the details.
Instantly, Jasmine felt tears gather at the back of her eyes. She wanted to tell her mother everything that had happened last night. But on second thought, she decided not to. Her mother was already distressed enough that they were in different states. Letting her know of the danger that Jasmine had recently gotten herself into would only make her more distressed.
“Eish, Mrs. Mitchell. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Jasmine forced a cheery note into her voice. “How many times have I told you to stop believing your dreams? They’re just dreams.”
“Are you sure?” Yolanda didn’t seem convinced.
“I’m sure I’m okay. I’d tell you if you wasn’t.” Jasmine quickly changed the topic. “Otherwise, how have you been? How goes the new interior design hobby?”
“It’s not a hobby,” her mother protested. “It’s a business.”
“No, it’s not.” Jasmine teased, “If you offer a service for free, it’s a hobby. It’s only a business when it starts to make money.”
“Well, I’m getting paid in fruit baskets,” Yolanda retorted sulkily but moments later, the pep was back in her voice. “Have I told you that Pastor asked me to be in charge of the camp they’re hosting for the Filipinos who are coming in next month?”
“Really?” Jasmine leaned back against the headboard as she listened to her mother talk about
the camping trip and other miscellaneous pieces of news. Of course the conversation soon wandered to Yolanda’s pet-topic.
“So are you dating anyone new?” the older woman asked.
“Of course not.”
“Of course not?” Yolanda’s voice rose in outrage. “You say it like it’s normal not to be dating someone.”
“Are you saying that it’s abnormal to be single?”
“Yes! It’s abnormal.” her mother responded immediately. “You’re twenty-nine now. How long are you going to be single?”
“As long as it takes to find the right one.” Though it was a bad idea to further agitate her mother, Jasmine added, “And if I don’t, I’ll just stay single. There’s no law that says everyone has to get married.”
“What?” Yolanda’s shocked gasp echoed clear through the line.
“Mom, the more you push me, the more I’m attracted to the idea of living alone,” Jasmine warned. “Keep pushing and you might not get those grandchildren you keep talking about.”
“Jasmine Angela Mitchell!” Yolanda howled into the phone.
“What?” Jasmine countered calmly.
“You!” Yolanda puffed out angrily several times. “I can’t believe that you would threaten me like that.” She sniffed into the phone then let out something that sounded like a snob.
Jasmine laughed. “Mom, I know you’re not crying. Have you forgotten that I’m your daughter?”
Yolanda’s voice instantly cleared. “Well, what am I supposed to do what I have an insane daughter?”
“I’m not insane. I’m just not in the hurry you seem to be in.”
“Why not?” Yolanda whined. “Or are you still pining after that good-for-nothing punk who ruined you?”
Jasmine didn’t even need to ask who her mother was talking about. Ever since Lucas had walked out of Jasmine’s life, he’d been relegated to the title of good-for-nothing punk. For a moment, Jasmine considered letting Yolanda know that Lucas was around and that he wasn’t good-for-nothing anymore. That he’d exceeded their expectations and become a cop. But she knew that the news would only annoy her mother more.
So she said, “No, I’m not pining over him.”
“Then get yourself a husband.” Yolanda offered, “Or let me set you up. You know Pearl’s son, Tariq, the doctor. He recently quit Médecins Sans Frontières and is now working around here. I could set you up. All I need to do is talk to P-”
“No thanks,” Jasmine cut her off. And because she knew that her mother wouldn’t end the call unless Jasmine ended it, she said, “Mom, I have to go otherwise I’ll be late to the office.”
“What do you mean you’ll be late?” Yolanda asked. “Aren’t you already there? It’s past noon.”
“What?” Jasmine shoved the covers aside and swung her feet to the floor. “Mom, I have to go.”
Panic beating a rapid beat in her chest, she checked the time on her phone. Her mom was right; it was now twelve-thirteen p.m.. Since she was only wearing a night-shirt, her gaze swept around the room looking for her clothes. When she couldn’t find them, she raced out of the room. She found Kenny in the living room working on her laptop as the TV played in front of her on low volume.
Kenny looked up when Jasmine raced into the room. “You’re awake.”
“Where are my clothes?” Panic thrummed in Jasmine’s voice. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I’m late for work.”
“You looked like you needed the sleep,” her friend said. “And you can’t go to work looking like that.”
“Yes, I know I can’t go to work like this.” Jasmine said. “That’s why I asked you where my clothes are.”
“No. I mean that.” Kenny used her finger to draw a circle centering on Jasmine’s face. “I didn’t think you’d want to go to work with your face like that.”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
“There’s a mirror behind you,” Kenny said as she turned her attention back to her laptop.
Jasmine turned to the mirror and almost staggered backwards when she saw her face. The bandage was still there but now her right eye was red and her right cheek was swollen. Also, her left cheek had a slash mark across it. She looked like a victim of domestic violence.
“Oh no!” Her sharp gasp echoed in the room.
“I assume that means that you’re not going to work.” Kenny watched her. “Right?”
Jasmine wanted to go to work, but this new ‘look’ would only attract questions from her clients that she wasn’t ready to answer. With a wince, she nodded.
After serving her breakfast (or did it count as lunch?), Kenny went off to get Jasmine something to wear after her shower. Unfortunately, Jasmine and Kenny were blessed differently when it came to the curves department. The navy t-shirt Kenny gave her, hung like a sack over her upper body. Worse, Kenny’s pants were all too big around Jasmine’s hips. Eventually, Jasmine had to borrow one of Geoff’s boxers.
She settled in the living room to watch TV. Meanwhile, Kenny kept working on her laptop. Jasmine snuck a glance at her friend. She could’ve asked why Kenny hadn’t gone in to work either, but she already knew the answer. Despite Kenny’s brusque outer shell, she was quite soft on the inside. The lady was probably shocked by what had happened to Jasmine and wanted to stick to her. With a smile, Jasmine turned back to the TV.
At around four p.m., Kenny stopped working to go and start on dinner. When Jasmine tried to help, she got kicked out of the kitchen and was told not to ruin the food with her ugly face. With a laugh, she trod back to the living room. Barely had she settled on the couch when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” she yelled out to Kenny as she started towards the front door.
The moment Jasmine saw who was at the door, she instantly felt frumpy and self-conscious.
“Luc?” She crossed her arms over her chest to mask the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the oversized t-shirt. “What are you doing here?”
“We-” Lucas jabbed his thumb towards Shane who was smiling behind him. “-just needed to ask you a few questions about York Emerson.” His keen eyes roved her face. Anger flashed in his gaze when he noted the bumps and bruises there but all he said was, “I hope we didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
“No, No. It’s not a bad time. I’m okay to answer questions.” Jasmine stepped to the side of the door. “Come in.”
“Who’s at the door?” Kenny emerged from the kitchen. The moment she saw the two men, she smiled brightly. “Hello.”
“Hi.” Both men nodded at her. Lucas introduced, “I’m Detective Lucas Gallo, and this is my partner, Detective Shane West.”
“Detective Lucas Gallo?” Kenny’s smile dropped and her shock-widened gaze shifted to Jasmine.
Jasmine instantly knew what her friend wanted to ask. That Lucas Gallo? She nodded.
Kenny’s gaze hardened in the blink of an eye. Her top lip lifted in a sneer and her voice turned wintery cold as she demanded, “What are you doing in my house?”
The two men were obviously surprised by Kenny’s sudden change in demeanor because they traded questioning looks. But it was Shane who spoke. “Um… we just needed to ask some questions.”
“Let’s go into the living room,” Jasmine said before her friend could make things even more awkward.
She herded the two detectives into the living room then gestured for them to take the couch while she took the armchair.
Kenny settled on the arm of Jasmine’s seat. Still glaring at Lucas, she asked in a loud whisper, “Can’t they ask their questions while outside?”
“Stop!” Jasmine jabbed her elbow into the side of her friend’s body earning herself a glare. She ordered, “Go and get them something to eat.”
“I don’t think so.” Kenny stayed put.
Jasmine could have gone to get the refreshments herself but she was too scared to leave her friend alone with the two men – or more specifically with Lucas. So, her gaze trained on Lucas, she asked, “What questions
did you want to ask?”
“Ah, yes!” Lucas sat up straighter. “How long did York work for you?”
“Just under a year.” She smiled sadly as she remembered, “he’d already started planning a party to celebrate the anniversary.”
“Did he ever talk about Michael Walcott or anyone who works at Walcott Towers?” Shane asked.
Jasmine racked her memories but came up with nothing. She shook her head. “Not that I recall.”
“Do you remember the day he died?” Lucas asked. When Jasmine nodded, he asked, “Can you tell us what happened before he left work?”
“Well, he asked for permission to leave early that day,” she said. “He had some kind of audition at seven. Ah yes…” Her eyes locked with Lucas. “He said he was meeting with his agent… Teddy. That’s his name. Teddy had set him up for an audition.”
“Teddy?” Lucas frowned. “They were supposed to meet that day?”
“Yeah.” Jasmine nodded eagerly. “That’s what I was curious about too. I wanted to ask Teddy if they’d met but I didn’t get a chance.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll do it.” Shane noted something in his notebook. “Do you know this Teddy’s full name?”
“No, not real-.” Jasmine paused as a sudden memory pushed its way forward. “Actually, I think I might have his card somewhere. I took it during York’s wake. Oh, in my purse!” She shot to her feet. “Let me go get it for you.”
She strode towards the guest room then looked around, searching for her purse. It was on the vanity table. Jasmine was rifling through it to find Teddy’s business card when the door opened and Lucas walked into the room.
“Just a minute.” Jasmine turned back to her purse. “It’s somewhere in he-”
Her breath rushed out in a sharp gasp when she felt arms come around her waist. “Lucas!” She turned her head to stare at him.
“Let me hold you for a second,” he murmured as he buried his face into a neck. “Just a second.”
They stayed like that for quite a while. The front of his body pressed into the back of hers, his body warming hers, and his arms at her waist, sealing her tightly to him. As always the contact sent warmth swooping through her. She couldn’t help her swift intake of breath or the sudden racing of her heart. With a sigh, he turned her in his arms so they were facing each other. For a moment, he just stared at her before his fingers came up to brush against her bandage.