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Bella scanned the parking lot as Joe hurried around to the trunk of Chet's car. She quickly took out the extra pair of hat and gloves. "Here, put these on." She glanced back at the driver's door as Joe pulled the gloves onto his hands. "We'll have to wipe down the car. It'll look suspicious if Chet's prints aren't on the car though."
"I covered my hands with my sleeves. I didn't touch anything." Joe reassured her before popping open the trunk. Inside, Chet's body lay in a pool of dirty orange curtain now stained with his blood. Joe leaned over and started tucking the curtain back around Chet's body to conceal him. "Do you know which boat is his? We need to get back to the party before Ray notices his car is missing."
"Chet always called it the S. S. Krendler." Bella stated before looking down at the docks. She rolled her eyes when she found a long speed boat, most likely used for sport, bobbing up and down among the sailboats and yachts. She didn't have to squint to see the name branded on the side like a neon sign in a dark bar window. Turning back to Joe, she reached in and grabbed onto the knot of curtains by Chet's head. "Let's go."
"Well if you hear from them, please let me know." Clarice said into her phone before pretending to end her fake phone call with Joe's mother. She turned to the agents, already knowing the answer but wanting to play the part. "Can't you track her phone? I get she wasn't kidnapped, but she could be and we wouldn't know until it was too late."
One of them shook their head while the other turned to Clarice. "I'm sorry, Agent Starling. You know the law as well as we do. She left on her own. We aren't allowed to track her phone under those circumstances. Until we know for certain that she's in danger, there's nothing we can do but search on our own. Local authorities do have orders though to be on the look out for house parties. They are to report back and not enter unless they see illegal activity."
Clarice rolled her eyes. "If we find out she's in danger, she's already gone. A serial killer is after her, literally after her, and you two act as if everything is fine." She looked to the front door when she heard the doorbell. "Who's that?"
"We asked for some reinforcements."
Clarice glared at the front door when the agent who watched Bella all day opened the front door and revealed Ardelia standing on the other side. She was dressed like she had just left the office, her badge clipped to her belt like every other cliche. Deep circles lined her eyes, but it didn't stop Delia from glaring right back at Clarice. "No wonder you guys aren't jumping to track Bella's phone. Your boss practically wished my daughter dead."
"I did not, and you know that." Delia stated as she walked into the townhouse and closed the door behind her, noticing the new locks. She joined the three in the living room and looked around, surveying the townhouse as if it were a crime scene. Clarice knew she was looking for signs of Lecter. "I've been there for her as much as I could. You've said yourself that I'm practically family."
"Yet, you'd rather her be dead than have a certain person's DNA running through her veins." Clarice argued back. "Your acceptance of her has conditions, and that's not a family."
Delia ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "Why are you so upset? It was hypothetical. He's obviously not her father, because you'd never be that stupid to sleep with him." She didn't notice Clarice's nose flare as she chuckled to herself. "I mean, what would that be? He'd fuck you then prepare your organs with a nice wine. Talk about tenderizing the meat to your meal."
Clarice crossed her arms over her chest, biting back the words she wanted to say. "Are you done? Because, I'm pretty sure you were called here to help find Bella, not berate me about hypothetically sleeping with Hannibal Lecter."
Delia sighed before turning to the two other agents in the room. "Could you give us a moment, guys?" She waited until they left to stand guard outside the front door before turning her eyes back to Clarice. "After some careful thought, I realized that Hannibal isn't the father."
"You did?" Clarice asked, half shocked that Delia was suddenly switching her campaign of Dr. Lecter being involved.
"Yes," Delia nodded, "and I know why Lecter would come back to target you two. You committed the ultimate betrayal in his eyes."
Clarice frowned. The fact that Delia was still pegging Hannibal for these crimes was as ludicrous as her lamb being saved or his teacup coming back together, and it was utterly frustrating to keep defending him when she knew she was skating on thin ice with the truth. And, betrayal? She'd never gone against Hannibal. Even with as little as Delia knew about their relationship, she also knew that Clarice wasn't one to just throw caution to the wind and go against a man that saved her life once. "What are you talking about? What did I do to betray Dr. Lecter?"
"Jack Crawford is Bella's father." Delia stated more than accused. The shock that came over Clarice's face made her scoff at her best friend. "I knew it was a rumor over the years, but I never thought you would've slept with Crawford. But, it makes sense. His wife had just died, and you were having a hard time with Krendler. He was the only one on your side. I understand why, Clarice. I get it. You don't have to hide it."
Clarice laughed out right, her hands shifting to her hips. "That's insane. I never slept with Crawford. I don't even think I saw him after he left the office for good. Besides, he died before I even found out I was pregnant."
"You and I both know that finding out your pregnant is weeks after conception." Delia fired back. "Not only that, Clarice, you named her Bella. Jack's wife's nickname was Bella. That isn't a coincidence. Lecter probably got jealous. He's always had a thing for you. Having Crawford's kid must've pushed him over the edge, and he just found out about it. That's why he's here. Just finally admit who Bella's father is. Say that it's Crawford. It will make you feel better."
"He's not her father, Dee." Clarice said firmly. "Yes, I named my daughter Bellona, with the nickname Bella. That was a coincidence, because I chose the name Bellona for the history behind it. I wanted her name to mean something more than just a good feeling from a baby name book. And, screw you for accusing me of sleeping with my boss. You know I'm better than that. I don't care which way you want to twist things. Crawford is not Bella's father, and Lecter isn't the Beer Can Killer. He's a serial killer by every definition in the book, but he has never laid a finger on me to harm me. He saved me from wild, flesh-eating hogs and healed me back to health before Krendler was brought over for dinner." She pointed up at the TV where the news was relaying information about staying safe from the killer. "This killer wants me and my daughter dead. He wants us to suffer for some reason. That isn't Hannibal Lecter. He hasn't tortured another person as a means of gratification. He kills to sate his own desires, quick and easy."
Delia held Clarice's eyes, breathing in deeply. But, her voice gave away the anger building inside her. "We got a tip this evening that Lecter was at Bella's school tonight. He came in with everyone else and left in a Jaguar."
Clarice bit her lip to keep from smirking. If Delia had just stopped with her first statement, she would've been worried. But, she knew what Hannibal was driving, and she knew that he had been at the school hours before she was. "I highly doubt that. A Jaguar in the school parking lot would raise a few red flags with the parents at that school. Let's say your tip is true though. Let's say Hannibal is here. What would bring him here? The last time he was here was when I was being thrown under the bus for doing my job. He came to ensure I would survive the chaos. When we found the evidence to suggest the victims were the same as Bella and I, it was televised that I was off the case for fear that I was the target. The story hit news stands. Dee, if he's here, he's ensuring that I make it out of this alive."
Delia frowned as Clarice sat down like she had just won a chess match. "You sound sure of yourself." She sat down herself, slowly lowering onto the couch. "If Crawford isn't her father, who is?"
"Saying it was Hannibal Lecter didn't make you happy?" Clarice asked, quirking an eyebrow at her friend. "You might as well jump on the band wagon with the rest of the FBI. Hannibal's Little Cannibal is out on the loose, most likely partying with her ex-boyfriend."
Delia leaned back. "I know you don't want that for her, to be considered his daughter."
"It's her decision whether or not she wants to correct the rumor or not. I've tried, but I'm still considered his bride after twenty-five years." Clarice whispered, focusing on their goal. The life she longed for was not so far away, and she just hoped she could grasp onto it before the FBI took the only thing it ever gave to her: Hannibal. She inhaled slowly, wishing that Hannibal was sitting beside her with two glasses of his favorite wine. "Considering he's treated me better than the FBI, I'm not sure denying it is even worth the energy anymore."
Silence hung in the air as the two let those words sink in - one of utter shock and the other of finality in the future. "Do you realize what you're saying?"
Clarice kicked her feet up on the coffee table and pressed her phone to her ear, placing another pointless call to Bella's phone. "I've spent two and a half decades realizing it myself. I know what I'm saying."
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