Merry Christmas Eve!
She knew the exact second Troy noticed her duffle bag by the front door. His expression registered surprise, then a spark of anger lit his eyes and his jaw tensed as Gabriella placed Elliot's back pack down.
"What's going on?" he said placing his hands on his hips and giving her one of those intimidating glares.
"I only came here because I had nowhere else to go," she said, the words seeming pretty calm. "Now I know that's not the case and I can take care of myself from this point on." On the inside her nerves were rubbed raw. If her heart pounded any harder it would jump out of her chest.
"Like hell."
"Troy I can't stay here," she said quietly.
"Why not?" Troy crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not kicking you out."
"It's just not a good idea."
"Why isn't it?" He scanned her face as if he was trying to read her mind, and she sincerely hoped that he couldn't.
"Donny and your father can protect me."
Troy arms uncrossed as his jaw clenched, "Not happening."
"No," she said holding up a hand. "It is."
He came towards her and she took two steps back, "Troy I'm not ready to get involved."
"Oh really?" Troy said nodding his hip, "What about at dinner? You seemed ready to get involved then." He was livid.
"Well, that was" she said tripping a bit over her thoughts.
"And what about on the couch the other night?"
"Troy." Gabriella said holding up her hands and looking towards the stairs to check for Elliot. "Please we just can't see each other for a while."
"How long is a while?" he growled.
Gabriella let out breath, "Look I know there are probably rules about you seeing someone who plays a role in an active investigation. So I don't think we should see each other until after the killer is caught and Taylor has prosecuted him."
"Ella," Troy said cautiously, "Do you know how long that could take?" he was incredulous. It sometimes took years to apprehend a killer.
"I want to send this son of bitch away. You can't let him get off on some technicality. That just can't happen. Not after what he did to Betty."
"What about Micheal?" Troy said feeling his chest begin got ache.
"I'm going to file for a divorce," a lone tear streamed down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away.
"What if I can't?" Troy heard the words but couldn't recognized the sound of his own voice.
"Can't what?" she said watching as Elliot came down the stairs with his toys.
"Stay away." Troy watched as Elliot came towards his mother his arms wrapping around her.
She gulped hard, and reached for the door where Jack was already waiting on the other side. "Hey Chicago," he greeted. When she didn't answer he looked toward Troy who was staring at him with disapproval.
"Keep her safe," Troy murmured as he took a step back.
"Just long enough for you to catch this son of a bitch," Jack winked as he reached for the bags.
Gabriella and Elliot made their way past them to the car. The squat cars from earlier were gone, the EMT's, Danny everyone was gone. Gabriella felt the hot tears flowing down her face. She could never, never let him know she was doing this to protect his career. She knew he wouldn't stand for it. She could not let his need to protect her put everything he'd worked so hard for at risk. No matter how much it hurt.
The next afternoon Gabriella sat in the Bolton's living room as she watched cartoons with Eliot. His parents weren't as odd as she initially expected, of course the amount of stuffed animals around the house was outrageous but they were an all-around average family. She felt safe, the comforts of Mrs. and Mr. Bolton being around seemed to settle her nerves.
Her thoughts went back to Troy, what he must be doing today. What he looked like in his uniform. Running into Troy again after all these years made her actually regret not being one of those glamorous, sophisticated and gorgeous women that made men fall over themselves for. Quiet, plain girls like her never got the guy. It just never worked that way. Girls like her ended up with guys like Michael and then they spent the rest of their life alone.
Sometimes she wished she could be a different person. Unfortunately she wasn't bold and brassy like Troy made her out to be. She wasn't even charismatic and charming like Kelsi. She was just Gabriella, small, mouthy, unremarkable and scared of her own shadow. Alone.
"You want some coffee Chicago?"
"No thank you," she smiled as she placed an arm leisurely around Eliot. "Thank you for taking us in on such short notice."
"Not a problem," Jack said as he shifted in his recliner and flipped a page in the paper. "Do you like reading the paper Chicago?"
"I've never really had the time to read the paper," she said quietly. "Michael didn't like me knowing too much."
Silence fell over them once again and Gabriella took a deep breath, "I must have really done something bad in a past life, huh?"
"Why would you say that?" he said from behind his paper.
Gabriella shrugged her shoulders as she thought about the obvious reasons, "Just seems like the universe seems to be screwing with me for the past year and half."
"You want me to kick the universe's ass?" he said eyeing her with a smile over the paper.
Gabriella felt her lips pull up into a smile. "Do you think you could take it on?"
"Piece of cake."
Emotion filled her chest and she leaned back on couch where she was sitting, her heart swelling with compassion for the man sitting in the living room beside her. He was so different from what she remembered. Troy was lucky to have parents who cared so much. Parents who wanted to be in his life, and did things like rearrange his kitchen.
No one had ever done that for her.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she couldn't stop the question from leaving her lips.
Jack bent the corner of his paper down and eyed Gabriella with watchful glaze, "Most women who come out of relationships like yours suffer from PTSD. Did you know that?"
Gabriella shifted a little, "PTSD?"
"Post-traumatic stress disorder," he said returning to his paper. "Nightmares, flashbacks, trouble sleeping and possible suicidal thoughts."
Gabriella was quiet as she stared at the television.
"Do you remember what you said to me 15 years ago the night I drove you home?"
Gabriella looked down at her lap before glancing back up at him. "Not really."
Jack placed the paper in his lap as he folded his hands, "You told me that If you were Sharpay Evans or Taylor Mckessie I would have given you both a slap on the wrist and told you to go straight home."
Gabriella let out a breath as she glanced at Elliot who was engrossed in the Snorkels. "That sounds like me," she sighed quietly.
"You were right," Jack said solemnly.
Gabriella's eyes darted up towards the older man sitting on the recliner.
"I was a jackass. I thought I was protecting my son. What I didn't realize is that I failed you in the process."
A sudden realization came over her, "What happen to me isn't your fault."
"No, no it isn't." Jack leaned back in his chair, "But the reason you don't trust the authorizes to help you is. I'm the one who taught you that we can't be trusted to act fairly."
Gabriella was quiet as she tried to think of something to say and came up blank. "Mr. Bolton… I, I …"
"Not a problem," he said from behind his paper, "What section of the paper do you want?"
Gabriella smiled a little as she leaned forward on the table and grabbed the Arts and Leisure section. Which earned her a huff from Jack as he shifted his paper a little.
"We'll get along just fine Chicago, just fine."
Betty's killer paced and rubbed his temple where the throbbing had grown worse. Had he messed up? Were they laughing at him now because they knew he'd done it?
His phone rang and he answered.
"What is taking so long?"
"She being protected," he said shifting the shade back and looking out the window across the street at the Bolton's house. Were they watching him? Waiting for him to screw up? "The people in this town are very annoying."
"I'm not paying you for all these other people, you have one job. Kill my wife and bring me my son," there was a tone in Michael voice. "Do I have to do everything myself? Are you that useless?"
"I can do my job," his voice was stern. He shouldn't have gone inside the sheriff's house. That had been a mistake. Mistakes would lead to him. Be he needed … needed to get the job done. He needed to kill her. Needed to hear her beg, the way the old woman begged him. He was going to make her beg. "Tonight."
"Good because one more slip up and I'll have to go down there myself." Michael voice was tight as he spoke into the phone. "If she's not dead by tomorrow you'll be one sick sorry son of bitch you hear me!"
"Yes sir."
The phone went quiet and the man stepped back from the curtain turning back to the people behind him. They were so loud. Whimpering, crying, and sniffling.
"Shut up," he said as he begun to load the gun. Her gun. The very gun he taken from her purse. This time he was going to make sure she had absolutely nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. After he was done with her there wouldn't be a got damn person in this town who would open their door for her.
Troy was staring at the board in his office, his eyes had been roaming over the time line of bodies and events since Gabriella had first come into town. He'd been to the Paxton. He'd searched every room this morning. And came up empty. Somewhere in this town a dangerous man was hiding and it was up to Troy to find him.
"Sheriff?"
Troy turned his attention from the board towards Martha who was staring at him from the doorway, "Is the team ready?" he asked with grim expression.
"Yes Sir," she said with a small frown, "Everyone's present."
Troy nodded as he picked up his hat and put it on, "I'll be out in a moment," he murmured looking at the board again and resting his eyes on Betty's picture. The diner was closed. Had been since they found Betty. No one really knew what to do, his town was in mourning, and with two funerals this weekend and murder suspect still on the loose his town needed some answers. They needed him to solve this case. Gabriella needed him to solve this case. There was too much on the line not to.
When he stepped out of his office he looked around at all the faces in small department of Highland Meadow P.D. they had a handful of deputies, one detective and few office hands that kept the paper work and office running smoothly. All of these faces looked back at him nervously, lost, frightened by severity of what was happening in there small town.
"It goes without saying that we have a problem," Troy said as he placed his hands on his hips. "The man were looking for is good. But he's about to mess up."
"Really?" Donny asked as he rubbed his side.
"Yes, because he getting desperate. He wants Catania, and he not getting what he wants. He's been perfect up until now. He broke into my house and he was almost caught. We came this close." Troy clapped his hands together. "The man we're looking for is an outsider in this town. But he's confident and has an ability to blend in. Starting now I want every deputy on the streets looking for that black, two door, Dodge Charger. He's going to keep his head down, pay for things in cash, maybe even stick around the crime scene as an onlooker to watch peoples reaction and pretend to be mourning."
Some of the deputies shifted as they stood looking at one another.
"We can do this, we might be a small number but this is our town and we know it a lot better than he does."
"Yes we do." Danforth said walking forward. "Let's catch this son of bitch of and send him packing."
There was a murmur through the station.
"We can do this. The Sheriff's depending on us and we're not going to let him down," Donny spoke out.
This time there was a consensus as people began to nod and agree. Troy felt his chest well up with pride and small thrill for the hunt. "Alright, let's get detail out on the half mile point for town, buy the school, and lets do some-"
He was interrupted by the buzz of the cell phones and the station office phone. Martha quickly answered, "Highland Meadow Police Department,"
Troy looked down at his phone and seen the code flashing on his screen.
"Shots fired on 3030 N Western Ave." Martha voice called out and all at once people started to move.
"Shit," Troy grabbed his walkie and began making his way towards the door. Danforth was running alongside him towards the car.
"Should we call Taylor?"
"No. This is our investigation. If I need a warrant I'll let her know. Until then she can keep her ass behind my caution tape."
"Shit," Danforth pulled his door open and hopped in, "Need a partner?"
"You volunteering?"
"Am I too late?"
"Nope." Troy flicked on the sirens and picked up his speaker, "I want pictures of everything, the crowd, the house anything that asshole might have touched. I don't want to miss anything this time."
"You really think this guy is sticking around?"
"He's playing with us, the notes, the bows, the posing of the bodies… he wants us to see what he can do. He might as well be screaming for us to look at him."
"How do we know what to look at?"
"We don't but we're running out of time."
It was midafternoon when she heard the sirens cut through the quiet of the house like a knife. At the first gunshot Jack had pushed Elliot her, and Mrs. Bolton into the basement. That's were sat quietly waiting for sighs of life beyond the door. For a muffled struggle between Jack and the attacker or the sound of the door being kick in. But nothing came.
Thirty minutes, four gun shots and one heart attack later. Jack unlocked the door. "I've called the station, Troy's on his way."
By the time she came outside to stand on the stoop with Mrs. Bolton she noticed the flashing lights atop police and emergency vehicles and deputies setting up barricades to block the road. An officer walked by carrying crime scene tape. Nervously she ran her tongue across her dry lips. Icy fear twisted around her heart. Please God, no.
The sight of Troy's car finally pulled up and he got out of the talking on his walkie talkie as he made is way towards the house.
"Please don't let this be what I think it is," she prayed as she watched him disappear inside the house.
"I think we should go inside now," Mrs. Bolton said grimly. "Maybe a cup of tea will help, you don't look so good."
Just then the EMT's came out with three stretchers and Mrs. Bolton clutched Gabriella's arm to stop her from leaving the stoop. She used her body to block her vision of the area.
But it was too late. Her eyes were wide and watery as she searched their faces. She feared what they would say. She began to shake as fearful images formed in her mind.
"What is she doing out here," Troy voice called across the lawn. "Get her inside."
"No." Gabriella pushed passed his mother, "Tell me what happened." She stared at him, not noticing the tears streaming down her face. No. She shook her head. No, this is cannot be happening again. It was a nightmare and she would soon wake up. She started feeling nauseous, then everything began swirling around her. She felt the blackness closing in and fell to the ground.