A/N... I didn't say this on chapter one, but I suppose it should be said: I don't own Twilight, or its characters, but we all know who does. I do own my plot, and my own characters, though. AND...this is rated M for many reasons. They are, but aren't limited to: language, violence, mention of drugs and crimes against women and children, lemons, sexual innuendo, and Mercward sexiness (yeah, he needs his own warning label)
Okay, now...a little something I feel the need to do. I receive a lot of reviews (and I thank you guys for all of them) and there are the rare few that are not kind (I'll live, trust me), and the rest are praises and love. Just as I received some flaming reviews, I also received a review from a woman that has been with me since my very first story, very first chapter. She said that she could no longer read anything that I've written...not that she didn't want to, but because she couldn't. She's become very ill, and her diagnosis was for three months. THREE MONTHS... my heart broke, because I've been at this now since 2009...and I've come to think of this woman as a friend and inspiration, and even though she may never see this, I'm dedicating Sin & Innocence to her. Q (Kyuketsuki In Oki)... this is all yours, sweetie. My heart and thoughts are with you and your family.
Now, to answer a few concerns, because I really need you at ease for this story... I DON'T WRITE EDWARD AND BELLA CHEATING...or divorcing...see my Fanfiction profile if you don't believe me. However, I do write real life, real issues, real dialogue, and real emotions. I write observations that I see everyday on TV and in my life, I write fantasy, and I write about love (in all its forms). AND...I never said Bethy was a genius, but please understand when a child has the advantages that THIS child has, she's going to be...above average. Mm'kay? and that, is a real question, too...just ask the writer of South Park. LMAO
Now...on with the story...let's find out what's in that warehouse...
CHAPTER 2
BELLA
"Ali's Den of Iniquity," Alice said, answering her phone, causing the whole car to laugh.
I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Honestly, Alice," I sighed. "We're at the warehouse. I need you to take a look at it. Is there power? Security?"
"No security that I can see, but that doesn't mean there isn't some sort of old school bell system," she mumbled over my speaker phone. "There is power, but the bill has been the same for years. It's paid out of Simon Parker's office...every month...on time."
"Which means no one has turned even a light bulb on in this place in like a decade," Mickey concluded with a nod. "I'm going to make one trek around this building...look for the best entrance. I don't want to pick the wrong one and set off an old ass fire alarm or some shit."
"Well, you're lucky, because the surrounding warehouses are abandoned and up for auction next month," Alice stated. "That will give you an extra few minutes to get in, and then out again if you do happen to set something off. I could kill the grid, if you want..."
"No, Alice," Edward said, stopping her. "Not necessary. I can't imagine this will take long. Tell me where the office is, while Mick does a prelim check." He turned to Mickey. "Radio open," he commanded, and we all tucked an earpiece in.
With that said, Mickey left the car, closing the back door behind her.
"West side of the building, up a flight of stairs. It's one door, one room," Alice finally answered Edward, typing away on her computer. "It should sit opposite where the bar and kitchen are, according to the layout."
"Thank you, Alice," he said, looking at his phone, which was showing a picture of the warehouse's plans. "We'll be on the radio from this point on."
"Okie dokie," she sang, ending the call.
"What are you hoping to find in this place, love?" Edward asked, turning slightly in the driver's seat of his Challenger.
"I want to match these names," I said, holding up the funeral sign-in book, "to possible employees, because these names were not on the list of people that the police spoke to after Rick was found in his car with a bullet in his head. Then I want to know why a perfectly happy boy – according to everyone that knew him – in his early twenties, just up and dies of what looks like suicide. I don't get it. And I don't like it."
Edward smirked, but reached into the back seat, pulling his bag to his lap. He rummaged around, only to find two flashlights and a few sets of latex gloves, handing a set of each over to me. "We'll need these. I don't want to touch a single thing in there – not one light switch, and no fucking fingerprints left behind."
The sun was slowly setting behind another warehouse as he tugged his black baseball cap on backwards, only to pull his gun out, popping out the clip and checking the chamber. We may not have been in danger, but my Edward never took any chances. Ever. He treated even the simplest of jobs with the utmost control and security. I'm not sure if he could ever change that about himself – nor would I want him to.
"Okay, guys," Mickey called in over the radio. "Our best bet...back of the building, fire escape...the door up top."
"Let's go," Edward said, and we both got out of the car.
He set the car's alarm as we darted across the deserted street of the old industrial area and around the back of the building. We looked up what looked like rusty old metal stairs, to see Mickey already working on the lock of the door. By the time we'd carefully climbed up to her, she was standing up straight and pulling her gun out.
Edward motioned for Mickey to open the door, because he was going to take the back, letting us lead the way in. Once the door was closed behind us, we all turned on our flashlights, scanning the room. We were on some sort of catwalk that edged the side of the building, eventually leading around to the office or down to the main floor of what used to be a pretty damn big dance club.
The air was musty and thick with dust motes, a fine film of it covering just about everything. I shined my light down below us, and the place was a mess. Tables and chairs were overturned. Empty liquor bottles were everywhere, and some were even shattered across the floor. The door to the kitchen area was open, but seemed to be broken off of its hinges.
"Damn," Mickey snorted, shining her light around the room. "What in the blue fuck happened here?"
"It's like they just closed one night without ever cleaning or opening back up," I noted, walking slowly to the end of the catwalk. I tried the door, but it was locked. "Yet...this, they lock," I stated.
Mickey immediately got to work, pulling out the little pouch containing her tools, which she always kept on her.
"The whole place looks like the Apocalypse ravaged the joint, but they made sure to lock the fucking office," I muttered, smirking when Edward chuckled softly behind me.
"Perhaps they are hiding something," he snorted, nudging me with his elbow.
A soft click rang into the empty space, and Mickey opened the door, letting it glide open. All three of us peered inside, not knowing what to expect. Like the rest of the place, the office was covered in a thick layer of dust, but unlike the club downstairs, the office was in damn neat – perfect – order.
File cabinets lined the back wall, right behind a generic metal desk. There was no computer equipment, but a calculator and a desk pad still sat on top. Two folding chairs sat just inside, also covered in dust, a jacket slung haphazardly over the back of one of them, and two small bookcases were along the wall right by the doorway.
"Okay," I sighed, shaking my head, but walked straight to the first file drawer and tugged it open.
Mickey took the desk, opening drawers, careful not to stir up too much dust. Edward knelt down by the bookcases, reading the titles.
The first drawer I looked through was nothing but financial stuff – taxes, purchasing, bills. The second drawer was the jackpot.
"Bingo," I sang to myself, pulling out the file containing payroll information. I pressed my earpiece. "Alice..."
"Talk to me. What'cha got for me?" she asked, typing away, and I could hear my child in the background.
"Is she singing?" I laughed, and Edward snickered, standing up from the bookcases.
"Yeah, Jasper's teaching her some old cowboy song," Alice told us with a giggle.
"Nice," my husband drawled, rolling his eyes. "I'm going downstairs to look for the video equipment," he said, pointing to the upper corner of the room where an old camera sat completely still and covered in an impressive cobweb.
"Okay," Mickey and I told him at the same time, and she came to look over my shoulder when I turned my attention back to Alice. "Alice, I'm going to read you some names and social security numbers. I'll need profiles on each of them."
"Easy-peasy, Japanesey," she chuckled, typing away. "Okay...hit me."
I read off the names and their socials, making sure they were the same names in Rick's funeral sign-in book, before putting the file back where I found it. "Thank you, Alice," I said over the radio. "How's that facial recognition thing coming for Mack?"
"I've pulled the pic, mapped the face, and just started the search," she answered. "Like I told her, it will take time."
"Okay," I sighed. "I'm not sure why she's worried. It wasn't like the woman tried anything."
"It was her reaction to Makenna," Edward answered, instead of Alice. "That woman did not want Mack to see her. At all. It won't hurt to find out who she was..."
"True," Alice and I said at the same time.
"We should be home in plenty of time for Bethy, Alice," I said. "Could you let Makenna know?"
"Sure, sure, sure," she chanted in her usual three time manner.
"Alice," Edward started with a grunt. "I've got...fucking old ass VHS security tapes dating all the way back to when this place opened. Can you do anything with them?"
"Ancient fucking shit," she mumbled, and I could hear her rifling around on the other end. "Yeah," she huffed. "I still have my converter. Can you take them?"
"I am taking them," he countered gruffly, and we heard tapes being picked up and slapped back down. "This room hasn't been touched in ages, but I'm only taking the ones from when Rick worked here."
"Cool," Mickey snickered. "That's really helpful, pretty boy," she said sarcastically.
I grinned, shoving at her a bit, but I did love it when she teased him.
"Shut up, wild child," he growled into the radio. "I'm more than just a pretty face. Ask Bella."
His amusement could not be missed, especially when I cracked the fuck up over the radio.
"Aw," I crooned over the radio as Mickey and I gave the office one more rifle-through. "He does have a pretty face, though... Hmmm...what's for dinner, baby?" I purred, smiling at Mickey's chuckle.
Edward could cook better than most five star restaurant chefs. There wasn't a single one of us that complained about anything he made. And fuck, if I hadn't benefited from it when I was pregnant with Bethy.
Edward chuckled sexily over the radio. "Bethy asked for homemade pizza. But I'm not telling you what dessert is, Isabella." His voice took on a low, dangerous tenor, the tone that screamed sexiness and carnal promises.
"Ooh, hot damn," Mickey giggled, shoving me out the office door.
"Dessert indeed, Edward," I snickered, shaking my head. "We're done up here. What about you?"
"I'm good," he chuckled, coming out from underneath us on the first floor. He held up three tapes, before tucking them away into the bag slung across his shoulder. "I can't imagine they'll be missed."
"No, probably not," I agreed, making sure that the office door was locked behind me. "Well, we've got a decent start on this case. As soon as Alice has those profiles, I'll know who to talk to next." I sighed, following Mickey toward the door in which we came in, but looked over the railing to see Edward staring back toward the door.
"We've got company, girls," he breathed over the radio, motioning us to get out the door as he bolted silently but quickly for the stairs. "Get out. Get to the car. I'll be right behind you."
We knew better than to argue with him, but I hated leaving the building when he wasn't at my side. Mickey and I slipped out the back door and practically slid down the outside metal stairs. We both gave the door a glance for a brief moment, before slipping around the corner, but I found myself tugged back.
"Ed, we've got...one, two cars outside. Looks like cops, and they're between us and the car," she whispered into her headset. "Get your ass out of there."
"Probably the industrial park's security," he breathed. "Rent-a-cops...because they're not actually coming in yet. They're just shining a light through the window of the front door. They'll see movement if I move."
"Then stay still, Edward," I whispered. "Benny will kill you if we have to bail you out of jail...again," I snorted.
He chuckled softly, but it was true. It was during the first year we were working together. Bethy had been just a baby when we'd taken a job to catch a woman accused of selling her company's secrets to the competition. We figured out that she did most of her...meetings after work at her office in Portland, so Edward went in as the buyer. The night she was supposed to meet with him, she never came to the door, so he broke in, just to at least be able to look through the contents of her desk and files. He was totally busted by the building's security. It all came out that it was the head of security that was selling information, not the woman.
I'd called Benny and Wes, who both worked for the Seattle division of the FBI, in a fucking panic, because I couldn't have my child's father in jail. They weren't happy about it, but they'd gone downtown to get him for me. I didn't want to know what kind of strings they had to pull to do it, but he was home by that night, and no charges ever being filed.
"Damn it," he growled, and my eyes met Mickey's as we waited. "They're coming in."
"Shit," Mickey hissed, looking around. "What we need is a distraction..."
I peered around the corner and saw that we were clear to the car. "I've got an idea," I told her, but knew that Edward was listening. "Two girls with car trouble should be enough to give him time to get out, huh?"
"Don't break my fucking car, Bella," he growled, but even though I wasn't looking at him, I knew he was smiling; I could hear the amusement in his voice.
"Heaven forbid," I chuckled, tugging Mickey's shirt. "We have to do this right. Come on..."
We ran as quickly as we could to the car, and I unlocked it, popping the hood. I knew just enough about cars from my dad to know what I could fiddle with and make it look like it wouldn't start, without actually breaking Edward's precious Dodge. One loose wire later, and we were two girls that were stuck with a broken down car.
I turned to look at the front of the building that we'd just come out of, the same one Edward was now trapped in, and I could see the two security boys – one shining a light in the front window, and the other pulling out a set of keys.
I smiled at what Mickey did next.
"Ummm... Excuse me," she called loudly, sounding like a vapid, helpless girl. "Can you help us?"
Two heads spun like they were on a swivel, and I snorted softly to myself, because from the look of their open mouthed stares, this was going to be all too easy.
"Oh Lord, we just made their day." I chuckled low.
One guy was skinny, with bad skin and a crooked smile. The other one was a little bigger and was sweating heavily through the armpits of his shirt.
Mickey huffed a laugh, looking up at me. "This will be way too easy," she muttered under her breath as they came closer, mirroring my thought from just mere seconds before.
"Edward, now's your chance. At least get the fuck outside, okay?" I whispered in a rush, falling down into the driver's seat.
"Yes, ma'am," he grunted, and I could hear him running along the metal catwalk in the background.
"Ladies," the skinny boy crooned as he ogled the both of us. "What seems to be the problem?"
Now that the two young men were closer, we could see their name tags. One was O' Brady, and the other was Donaldson.
"We took a wrong turn. The car was acting funny, and now it won't even start," I huffed, pouting like a spoiled rich girl, which was the only way to do it, considering the type of car we were dealing with and the fact that both Mickey and I looked younger than we actually were.
Edward's late model Dodge Challenger was decked the fuck out. He'd had it before I met him, so it had every bell and whistle known to the automotive industry, though I couldn't judge him on it at all, because my Mustang was just as bad. It was just one of the many, many ways that Edward and I were very much alike; we loved our muscle cars.
"Well, let's see what we can do about that," the bigger boy, Donaldson, sighed, looking under the hood.
"I'm out, I'm out," Edward huffed in my ear, and a quick glance towards the back corner of the building confirmed it. "Battery cable?" he asked.
"Yeah, and he's about five seconds from finding it, so run to the end of the street, and we'll pick you up at the stop sign," I mumbled, looking up when Donaldson peeked around the hood.
"Try it now," he said, after fiddling with the very cable I'd just loosened.
The car rumbled to life smoothly, of course, and Donaldson closed the hood, dusting off his hands. "Your battery cable was loose. You might want to have someone tighten that for you before it happens again."
"Thank you," Mickey and I sang at the same time, and I could swear I heard Edward chuckle as he ran.
Mickey started to get into the passenger side, when O' Brady stopped her.
"Where were you girls headed that you were lost?" he asked, tilting his head at her. His blush could not be missed.
"We were looking for Carson's Motors," she answered smoothly, knowing we'd passed that warehouse on our way into the damn complex. "I have to pick up a boat part for my boyfriend before they close. The guy said he'd stick around for us."
"Oh, well...Carson's is on the other side of the park. Go to the stop sign right up there and take a right. You can't miss it on the left hand side, just before you hit the exit. You girls passed right by it."
"Gotcha. Thanks, guys!" she said, beaming like a bright sunny morning, and I had to hide my laugh.
I looked straight up the street, catching a shadow darting across. Night had fallen, and Edward was thoroughly concealed.
We waved to the boys, and I pulled out at the same time that Mickey dove into the back seat. At the stop sign, I looked into the rear view mirror to make sure the coast was clear. The guys had gone back to the front of the warehouse and were going inside.
"Go, go," I said into the earpiece, and the passenger side door was yanked open, a heavily breathing Edward falling into the car. "Always gotta make shit hard, huh?"
"Shut it, sweetness," he snorted, rolling his eyes at our laughter. "Get us out of here."
I felt a kiss to my temple as I drove us out of the industrial area, heading towards home.
~oOo~
"Bethy, let's go!" I called down the hall. "You're going to be late for school, and I still need to do your hair, silly girl!"
Edward let a soft chuckle out from behind me in the kitchen. He'd made breakfast and was now putting Bethy's lunch together for school.
"Coming, Mommy," she yelled back, but I heard slamming around from in her room.
"You said that ten minutes ago," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "God help me when she's thirteen."
"But at thirteen, she won't want you to touch her hair," Edward pointed out with a spatula in hand. "Or watch movies, or hold her hand..."
"Don't go there," I growled, hating that she was getting so big, so damn fast.
"We could have another one," he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at me.
"Don't go there, either, Edward," I huffed, rolling my eyes. I looked up at his hopeful, but carefully masked face. "You didn't have lug ten pounds of baby and water around on your bladder and kidneys..."
"I would have..." he grumped, frowning just a bit.
We did want another child. We'd talked about it when Bethy turned two, and again when she turned three, but it never got past the talking stage. I was back on birth control and had been since the doctor cleared me for it after Bethy's birth. I wasn't opposed to the idea, but I certainly didn't know if we could do it again, because we were honestly really busy. But the thought of a little Edward clone was just about my undoing – a little boy with crazy hair and a wickedly charming smile.
"Here, Mommy," my little girl gushed, running into the kitchen and clambering up onto the stool in front of me. She held out her brush and her box of "hair thingies," as Edward called them.
"Well, how do you want it, baby?" I asked, dragging the brush down her long, thick hair, which reminded me so much of my own.
"P-ponytail!"
"One or two?" I tugged on her hair to get her attention away from whatever toy she was fumbling with in her hands.
"Two, Mommy, okay?" she sighed exasperatedly.
"Okay!" I answered back, shaking my head. "Relax, Captain Cullen. I'm not just your hair dresser."
"S-sorry, Mommy," she huffed, settling down a bit, because she woke up at top speed and never slowed down all day.
Her little stutter was already starting to fade, though it still came through when she was tired or overly excited. But the one thing she had in common with her father was that they both stuttered when they were in trouble. It never failed to melt me – from both of them. I was pretty sure Bethy hadn't caught on to it, but I had suspicions Edward knew what it did to me.
As I parted her hair and began to separate the two parts for ponytails, her head followed her daddy's every move in that kitchen.
"Are you coming wif us, D-daddy?"
"To school?" he clarified, zipping up her pink lunch box and setting it in front of her.
"Yeah," she whispered, nodding slowly, because I was trying like hell to keep her still.
"You want both of us to drop you off?" he chuckled, giving her a wink, because I was pretty sure he was planning on riding with me this morning, before coming back to meet with Alice.
We knew that Alice had already put together the three profiles we'd called in with from the warehouse the night before, but it had been late when we got back, and Edward and I had just wanted family time by the time we pulled in the driveway. We'd come home the night before to see the office locked up and Bethy and Makenna sitting on the floor of the living room, watching The Little Mermaid. They were singing Kiss the Girl as loud as they could, a ginormous bowl of popcorn between them.
"Pwease Daddy?" she begged, knowing he couldn't resist it. She could play him better than I could.
"I don't know," he sighed wearily, pretending to actually give it thought.
She didn't even have to beg him again; she just looked up at him, like one of those lost puppies on the SPCA commercial – all big, pitiful eyes and long eyelashes, her bottom lip popping out just right, tilting her head a little.
"That," he huffed with a laugh, "she gets from you!"
"Is that a yes, Daddy?" I giggled, ignoring his jibe at me, because yeah, that was totally my face she was using. I'm pretty sure I used that same face when I asked him to work with me at Gravity, and he's been with me ever since.
"I guess so," he sighed dramatically.
"Yay!" my girl cheered, pumping her fist in the air way too much like her Uncle Emmett, which only made her father smile all the more.
With the last ponytail secured, I said, "Well, then, let's go. Go get your backpack, pretty girl. Mrs. Cope doesn't like it when you're late. You miss singing."
With that said, Bethy burst out into Happy Trails, the song that Jasper had taught her the day before, which made my husband bark out a laugh as he headed out to the SUV.
~oOo~
EDWARD
Forks wasn't a big town. At all. In fact, it was quite the opposite; everyone knows everyone else. It was something I'd hated when I'd first moved here with my dad, just after my mother died, but I'd grown to appreciate after coming back from the Air Force. There was something to be said about familiarity.
I'd known Mrs. Cope when I attended Forks high, because she worked in the office. When her daughter had twins the year I left for military school, she'd decided she'd rather be around little kids all day, instead of teens, so she opened a day care and preschool. And she was really good at it. It helped that she also taught Sunday School at the church, which meant she had more patience than I ever could with someone else's children. She was one of a few preschools in the area, but I really liked Mrs. Cope.
I opened the back door to the SUV, noticing my very smart girl had already unbuckled her car seat.
"Bethy," I warned her, raising an eyebrow. "You know I don't like it when you do that."
"The car is parked," she countered, holding out her hands for me to pick her up. "Y-you said w-when the c-car was p-parked that it was o-okay."
"Dear Lord," Bella laughed, shaking her head. "Bethy, just wait until we tell you it's okay."
"'K-kay," she huffed, but wrapped her arms around my neck as I picked her up out of the car.
As I set Bethy on her feet, I glanced around. The daycare used to be a home, but Mrs. Cope had been able to turn it into a fantastic place. The front yard was the playground, with a winding sidewalk leading to the front doors. Everything was painted bright colors, including the tables and chairs that I had made for her ages ago.
Word got around about my carpenter hobby once I'd settled back into Forks after my tour of duty in Afghanistan, especially once I bought my house. So when I started becoming a regular at the local hardware shop, interest peaked, especially when I gave Mrs. Thompson, the wife of the owner of the hardware shop, her first rocking chair.
Mrs. Cope had left word with Mrs. Thompson that she'd pay me for a set of six small tables with four chairs each for her daycare, but I hadn't charged her. It had been therapy for me to take the time to build them after coming home from one of my father's missions. It had been my down time, my quiet time – but that was all before my Bella.
"Ah, Miss Bethy," Mrs. Cope greeted her, smiling brightly. "Go put your things up and give Miss Valerie your lunch, okay?"
"Okay," Bethy sang, starting to take off.
"Hey," Bella laughed. "Little Miss Social Butterfly, you want to tell your parents goodbye first?"
"Oh yeah," she giggled. "Bye, Mommy. Bye, Daddy," she said, rushing to me when I knelt down. She planted loud, wet kisses to my cheek, whispering, "Love you. Be safe."
I grinned, because she and Bella were my whole fucking world, and I'd taught her that almost from the minute she could talk. I hated leaving either of them for any time period, so it was almost like a family code for us. Maybe it stemmed from all the shit that Bella had been through before Bethy was born. Maybe it came from my years of being a soldier and being overseas far away from everything. But I was pretty sure it came from my mother, who never let my father leave for a tour without telling him to "be safe" and that she loved him fiercely. I never wanted to leave either of my girls without them knowing that I loved them, even if it were only for a few hours at school.
"Love you, too, little sweetness," I whispered back.
She rushed to Bella, saying the same thing as my wife played with her hair. With one last kiss to Bethy's forehead, Bella let her go.
"It's good to see you both," Mrs. Cope said, smiling up at me, and then turning to Bella. "I wanted to remind you that the three and four year olds have a field trip to Mr. Lafayette's farm this Friday. They get to see animals and see how a farm works. I was wondering if either of you could come along."
"Oh damn," Bella groaned, rubbing her temple. "I totally forgot. Umm, can I let you know later today when I pick her up?"
"Absolutely," the older woman said, turning to me. "I know how you feel about outside activities, Edward. I just thought one of you might want to be there with her."
I smiled and nodded, because she knew a little of our past, and she knew what we did for a living, so for her to take that into consideration meant a lot to me. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, but with my father's spotlighted career, and the fact that we used to be soldiers for hire, I wasn't sure I'd trust anyone outside of my family and crew with the safety of my wife and daughter. It was one thing to be in a one-room school; it was another to take Bethy out of that school, where anything could happen, where anyone could approach the boisterous, friendly little girl, even though we'd fucking stressed the whole "don't talk to strangers" thing to Bethy. If it made me paranoid, then so be it, but I couldn't imagine what I would do if something happened to my girls. Period. The fury and devastation that would incur would be equal to that of World War III.
"Thank you, Mrs. Cope," I sighed, looking towards the building and back to her. "We're working a case, so Bella's right... We'll have to let you know later this afternoon. Bethy's grandparents are out of town."
"Oh, that's right!" She beamed, clapping her hands together. "How was the wedding?"
"Beautiful," Bella gushed. "You'll have to see the pictures. Bethy decided to dump the rest of the rose petals at the end of the aisle."
I snorted at Mrs. Cope's laughter, because it was funny. Bethy had done everything we'd taught her and asked of her concerning that wedding, but when there were flowers leftover at the end of the aisle, she'd been confused, so she'd just dumped them, much to everyone's amusement in the wedding hall.
Both mine and Bella's phones alerted us to text messages; she checked it out and sighed, looking up at me. "Alice...those profiles are ready...and Rose is staying home at their place today. She's having pains."
I sighed, shaking my head. "We'd better go then. Thank you, Mrs. Cope. We'll see you later this afternoon."
"Just let me know about Friday, Edward," she said sweetly.
"Yes, ma'am."
By the time we got back to the house, Bella had already called Rose, verified that we didn't need to take her to the hospital...yet, and I'd called Emmett to calm him down. He was still stuck with Governor Palmer for at least another day and night and was freaking the fuck out that his first child was so close to making his appearance. It seemed Caleb Edward McCarty was just about ready for his big debut.
Bella and I walked into the office, where Alice was already hard at work and Makenna was stirring a cup of coffee. Every computer was up and running, each one processing something different, and I couldn't help but watch the one that was searching for the woman that had approached me at the reception. Her face had been captured from the security video, a few marks on certain features, while the picture next to it was constantly changing, trying to find a match. At the top, I could see that Alice wasn't just searching through Washington, but a national database. No wonder it was taking a bit to process.
"Where's Jazz?" I asked, looking around, even glancing outside.
"I made him stay with Rose," Alice stated firmly. "Her doctor said it's too soon to bring her in, because there's no set pattern to her contractions, but I'm not taking any chances with my next prodigy, so I made him stay."
Bella giggled, kissing the top of her head. "Your first prodigy will be jealous if she hears you talking like that."
"Doubtful... Soon, my little minions and I will run the world," Alice said, using a falsely evil voice as she rubbed her hands together, but she couldn't even get that out with a straight face, bursting into a laugh with the rest of us.
Although in reality, she was probably right. Bethy adored Alice, because she was so smart. On many occasions, I'd caught Alice teaching Bethy simple chemistry. They'd both laugh when things popped or bubbled over. Alice had taught her to read, simply by teaching her how to use a computer, and had even gone as far as writing Bethy her very own program. It was a simple game, using numbers, letters, shapes, and colors, not to mention pictures of animals and shit. It wasn't long before Bethy had started reading simple words off of road signs and off of the TV. My baby girl was fucking brilliant, but I wasn't proud or anything.
"Sit, sit," she chuckled, tossing three files into the center of the table we always sat around discussing cases. "I've got what you asked for. Interesting group of people, Bellsy."
Bella set down the stack of things that Todd Jackson had given us, including the funeral sign-in book. Apparently, we'd lucked out, because all three names were found in the employee files at the warehouse. Jeff Kelly, Adam Weaver, and Moses Matthews all worked with Rick Jackson at the time he died and had attended his funeral. What bothered me was that not one cop had bothered to find this shit out.
"What about the video tapes?" I asked.
"Patience," Alice chided. "I'm converting the last one as we speak," she said, gesturing to one of the many computers on her giant desk. "They will be easier to scan through once they're digital. Tape is just...ugh!"
Bella smiled, but said nothing as she pulled the files to her. "Okay then, pixie, talk to me about these guys."
"Let's start with Adam Weaver," Alice sighed, sitting down across from us. "He was a fellow bartender with Rick at the time he died. He's still working for Simon Parker, actually. He's the go-between for Parker and the rest of the world. If you need an appointment to see him, you have to go through Adam first. In the ten years that have passed, Weaver was able to get himself back to school and graduate with a BA in telecommunications and a minor in business management."
"But you've got down here that he was living in a shitty apartment, barely making ends meet ten years ago," Bella stated, looking up at Alice.
"Right, Simon put Adam through school. I was able to trace the finances."
"Interesting. Keep going," I mused, looking over Bella's shoulder at the driver's license of the guy.
Weaver was six feet tall, weighing a hundred and seventy pounds. He had nondescript brown hair and hazel eyes. According to his most recent address, he lived in a fairly upscale part of town. It was one of those neighborhoods that drew in the artists, the musicians, and the flamboyant. There were also a few photographs that Alice had printed from what looked like a social website, and Adam's lifestyle practically screamed out of them.
"He's gay," I stated, looking up at Alice.
"He is," she said with a nod. "He's also...trouble. He has a very, very long list of past offenses with the state of Washington. It ranges from indecent exposure to public intoxication. There are a few possession charges, as well. Apparently, he lives a pretty damn fast life, with no intention of stopping, because his last arrest was just last month – DUI. His license has been suspended, and he's supposed to be attending AA meetings, but according to his probation officer, he's missed one or two. Somehow, he's avoided having his sentence revoked and being put in jail, but a good lawyer can stop that shit."
"I don't want Simon Parker to know about us yet," Bella stated, sliding Adam Weaver's file to the side, "so this guy is on the back burner for now. Next."
"You'll love this one," Alice giggled, pushing the next file to us. "Moses Matthews...AKA 'The Preacher,'" she started, raising her eyebrows up. "Preacher was a bouncer at Starlight. Look at him. He's ginormous. He's six foot five and weighs like close to three hundred pounds. He was – and still is – heavily into body building. There's not an ounce of fat on that big boy."
Bella and I both took in the driver's license and some photos that Alice had provided us with, and Preacher was, indeed, a huge motherfucker. He was African American, with what looked like an easy smile and a bald head, but his size alone would scare most assholes away from the club. From the looks of him, I could imagine he'd been very good at his job controlling chaos at a popular bar.
"Preacher?" Bella asked, flipping through the file.
"He's really a freakin' minister...Reverend Matthews. And he's got his own church now," Alice replied. "He lives a pretty clean life...no current trouble, though he had some assault charges from back then. I could imagine some drunk guy getting pissed off for being thrown out of a dance club...literally thrown, from what I could guess." Alice flipped a page for us and pointed. "As you can see, he's no longer associated with Parker in any way. He's trying his damnedest to clean up a rough side of town. His current project is a recreational community center, but he's having a hard time getting funds."
I pulled the last file to me, and Alice changed gears along with me. "Jeff Kelly...this is the interesting one... He was found two years ago in the very same spot that Rick Jackson was...in the very same condition."
"No," Bella gasped, pulling the file closer. She flipped through, finding the pictures from the crime scene, and pulled out the autopsy report. "Same fucking type of gun and everything," she mused, biting her bottom lip as she read. "Suicide...in his car...just like Rick."
"Well, shit," I sighed, shaking my head. "Does this mean they both committed suicide, or do we have a pattern of some asshole killing guys and making it look like suicide?"
"See?" Alice huffed. "That's the question, because not an ounce of gunpowder was found on either mans' hands. I checked both reports. And both were still wearing their seat belt. Who wears their seat belt when you're about to off yourself? Seriously. Vehicular safety would be about the furthest thing from your mind, I would think," she rambled. "There was also no note...from either of them. I know that most studies show that when someone makes up their mind to kill themselves, they all show the same signs. They start making peace with everyone they know, they start doling out their possessions – because they won't be needed – and they usually write a note or leave some kind of message. It sounds terrible to say, but it's the truth. They want to be remembered. Despite the fact that they are leaving this earth, they want someone somewhere to know...why."
Bella and I just nodded at this information that Alice was spewing, because that was what Alice did. She retained the most obscure bits of fucking info, using it at the most needed moments. It wouldn't shock me that Alice knew the steps a suicidal person took at the time they've made up their mind to end their own life. It wasn't uncommon to catch Alice reading a psychology book, or a forensics text book, or even studying old cases that Benny gave her the clearance to read. I can't imagine what she knew about Jeffery Dahmer, Ted Bundy, the Unibomber, or even John Wayne Gacy, because she found serial killers to be fascinating. It had something to do with how a fucked up childhood could turn a human being into a monster. She told me once that one wrong injury to a child's psyche could ruin them as an adult, which gave me nightmares the first few weeks after Bethy was born. I'd been convinced I'd fuck up as a father.
Bella slid Jeffery Kelly's file back toward Alice, pulling Moses Matthews back to her. She sat back in her chair. "I want to talk to this guy first," she stated, tapping the folder with her finger. "I'd be willing to bet that his job as a bouncer allowed him to see all sorts of fucked up shit."
"What about Adam Weaver?" I asked, pulling that file closer.
"I'd rather not deal with Simon Parker just yet," she said, looking up at me. "His police statement was ridiculously riddled with holes and vague accounts of Rick's employment. It was too standoffish, like he was trying too hard to sound like he didn't know anything other than the fact that Rick worked for him as a faceless employee. If we start with Weaver, then Parker will know. If Parker's hiding something, we can't have that."
I took a deep breath, because we were about to go into a pretty fucking harsh part of town. I nodded at her, and then turned to Alice. "You'll skim through the security footage?"
"Yup," she sang with a nod, rolling her chair away from the table across the room to her desk. "They're all converted, so I'll start looking through them while you guys head to the city. If anything interesting happens, I'll send it to your phones."
I started to get up from the table, but Bella didn't. Her attention was drawn to Makenna, who hadn't said anything the whole time; her attention was utterly transfixed to the screen that was looking for our mystery woman from the reception.
"Mack," Bella called softly, and the girl's head spun to look at her. "Tell me why she bothers you so much."
"I don't forget people," she huffed, frowning down at her cup of coffee. "I know that face, but...something's either changed about her, or she's aged or some shit. I don't know. And her running away from me just fucking confirms that there's something not right with her. She was more than willing to talk to Edward, but when I appeared, she ran like the wind. I want to know why."
Bella looked up at me. "Did you get a funky vibe from her, too?"
"Love, I'd talked to so many people that day...everyone was giving me a funky vibe. I was tired and ready for all of it to be over. I'd fucking hob-knobbed way past my personal limit."
Bella giggled, shaking her head. "Ah...right...no people skills. I forgot, baby. I'm sorry."
I chuckled, nudging her with my elbow, because she'd teased me once about opening my own restaurant, but I'd explained to her that I didn't exactly have people skills. My lack of patience, my inability to sugarcoat some shit, just wouldn't allow it.
Bella got up, walked to the desk, and sat down to look at the screen. She was quiet for some time, before she took a deep breath, saying, "I'd say she resembles...Lilith Laray...but that's impossible. Lilith is in Shady Glen..."
I noticed both Alice and Makenna freeze, but it was my girl's voice that worried me. It was haunted at the mention of that name – a name I'd never heard.
"Who?" I asked, looking around the room.
It was quiet for a minute, before Alice answered. "Lilith Laray was one of our first cases. The first year, actually." She stopped when Bella shot up out of her chair.
"I'm...I've got to get something from the house, Edward, and then we can go," she stated, her voice sounding almost dead.
"Bella?" I looked up at her worriedly, but she just held up her hand.
"I hated that case," she sighed, shaking her head. "I have no desire to hear about it."
As soon as she was out the door, Mack spoke up. "It is Lilith," she breathed, her eyes wide. "But she's scarred here..." She pointed to the mark along the woman's brow. "Her hair is a different color, and she's gained some weight. That's why I didn't recognize her. She's...clean..."
I spun to Alice, pointing to the window. "You have thirty seconds. Give me the Cliff Notes version. Now."
"Lilith Laray was a drug addict that lost custody of her child," Alice said, beginning to ramble, her eyes nervously flickering to the window – watching for Bella, I assumed. "She had a heroin problem, but wouldn't turn down anything else if it was offered to her. She was encouraged to put her little girl, Ashley, up for adoption, but she never did. The foster parents that had taken Ashley in...the Greenes... Well, they wanted her. And who wouldn't? She was such a sweet little girl. She was five at the time." Alice winced, shaking her head. "Bella took the case, because Lilith found a way to take Ashley back. Kidnapped her. She'd been in a rehab facility, gotten clean – or so everyone thought – and then ran off with the little girl after a court granted visitation."
"And?" I growled, not liking that my wife was upset at just the mere idea of this woman.
"And Bella found her. It was a simple recovery. Lilith fell off the wagon, going on a week long bender after snatching her little girl. Ashley had to fend for herself, as her mother wallowed in a drug-induced stupor, so she was seen walking in a really shitty neighborhood – the same damn neighborhood that Lilith had always crashed in. She was either stupid, or just damned desperate, but it didn't take long for Bella to ask the right people – a little grocery store owner, the cashier at a fast food restaurant, and Lilith's drug dealer – before she found them. In fact, it was the drug dealer, Sharky, who gave her Lilith's address, though Bella paid a lot of fucking money for that information. She took Rose with her, and once she spotted Ashley, she alerted the police."
"So...if that was a fucking happily ever after, then why is she..." I didn't finish, because Alice and Makenna were already shaking their heads. "What?"
"We all thought it was done, that the girl was safe. Lilith was committed to Shady Glen...permanently. She was finally diagnosed with schizophrenia and manic depression. She heard voices, and they made her sad," Alice snorted, rolling her eyes.
I raised an eyebrow at her to continue. I didn't have time for jokes and shit.
"Okay, so once Lilith was put away, she signed over custody, so the Greenes finally got to adopt Ashley. Bella became close with them. I mean, Jason and Amber Greene were really sweet people. They were about our age, with decent jobs, but the inability to have kids of their own. We became friends. Jason was a lawyer, and even sent some cases our way, but a year after Ashley was recovered..."
I watched as a sadness that rarely touched Alice's face draped over her like a thick, heavy blanket. And it didn't escape me that Alice had said "was" and not "is" when she spoke of these people.
"It had nothing to do with Lilith. It wasn't even Jason's fault. They were coming home one night from dinner, all three of them. They were stopped for a red light, when a drunk driver in one of those big Hummers plowed through the intersection, taking out the Greenes' Mercedes. They never stood a chance, even with Ashley in a safety seat, because the vehicle next to them was a gas tanker. The whole fucking intersection exploded."
"Holy fucking shit," I breathed. "I remember that accident. I watched the news about it. The drunk fucker lived! In fact, he was the only survivor, because he was bounced out of his SUV's open window when the the fucking thing rolled."
"Yup," Makenna sighed. "Bellsy was devastated. She said that everything she'd done to get Ashley back was for nothing. For a long time, she treated clients pretty coldly, not getting close, just doing the job and getting it done. And she didn't take a missing child case for a really, really long time. She'd refuse them, send them to someone else."
She paused, looking at the screen, because it bleeped with an alert. "Oh, fuck," she groaned, looking to Alice. "Lilith Mary Laray..." she muttered, pointing to the screen. "Guess who's out of the nut house?"
I heard the screen door slam from the house, and my head shot up to see Bella heading our way. I stood up, grabbed the files we'd need for the day, and tucked them under my arm. I walked to the safe, grabbing my gun, Bella's gun, and two ear pieces, just in case the neighborhood we were about to go in wasn't exactly friendly. I turned back to the girls, pointing to the screen now filling with a police record that looked a mile fucking long on Lilith Laray.
"I want it all on her," I stated gruffly. "Tell me why she's out, because there was a fucking reason that bitch was at the hotel. If she knew you guys, then it wasn't fucking coincidence that she was there. Find it. Keep it quiet, and send the info only to me for now, okay? At least until Bella can handle dealing with it."
"Sure, Edward," Mack said with a nod, tugging Alice's shirt sleeve. "Work your magic, pixie. Let's see why they freed the dodo bird."
With that said, I walked out of the office, meeting Bella at her car. Her face was grim, and she wouldn't meet my eye, but she was already getting in the Mustang before I could protest. My girl wanted to drive her frustrations out of her, so I didn't argue when she turned the key, revved the engine, and left the house like a bat out of hell.
Bella was eerily quiet the entire trip to the city. The only time she spoke was when she asked for directions, and even that was quick and to the point. When Reverend Matthews' church came into view, she parked the car, but before she could get out, I stopped her.
"Hey, sweetness, wait," I said, turning in my seat slightly. She still wouldn't meet my eyes.
I winced, my nose wrinkling, because I fucking knew that feeling. The three stars tattooed on my chest for the three men I'd lost overseas was proof of that, but we were beyond holding shit in. I could recognize guilt when I saw it. Bella blamed herself – maybe not directly, but at least somewhat – for the deaths of the little girl that she'd saved and her adopted parents. Though it might not have been her fault, their loss made her feel vulnerable, disgusted with herself that she got too close.
"Look at me, please," I sighed, tilting my head at her as she turned to me.
"They told you." It wasn't a question – merely a statement.
"Yes."
"God, she was such a bright girl, Edward," she gushed in barely a whisper. "And her parents...they were just...really fucking good people." The last four words came out through gritted teeth.
I reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, but I could see she wasn't going to say much else, but she needed to know the results of the search.
"The search finished while you were in the house, love," I started, keeping my voice even, especially when her gaze snapped up sharply to mine, her normally sweet brown eyes taking on a black, angry tinge. "It's her. It's Lilith."
"That's why she ran from Makenna," she muttered. "She knew you wouldn't know her, and she could approach you, but she knew the rest of us. She's out?"
"I've got the girls working on why, baby," I promised her, pulling out her gun and handing it to her. "They're going to keep me posted until you want to deal with it. But until then, we've got to interview this Preacher guy."
"Armed?"
"Look around you, Bella," I said a little sharper, my eyes not leaving hers. "Every move we're making is being watched. This car screams money. Look at the neighborhood, love. There's no money here. This area has the highest crime rate in the fucking city. I'm not taking any chances with you."
She gave a quick glance around and nodded, taking her gun, checking the clip and chamber, before stowing it in the small of her back. She also took the earpiece I was handing her and tucked it in, before looking up at me. My heart broke with the sadness that was there – sadness that hadn't been there prior to the mention of this Lilith bitch.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, shaking my head, because I didn't know what else to say. My Bella was sweet and kind and loving, and she lost someone she'd grown close to, and for that, I was sorry.
"I made so many mistakes on that case," she groaned, shaking her head. "I just...I can't right now."
"I understand, and I'll handle it until you can. Got me?"
A flicker of a smile glimmered across her beautiful face. "Yes, sir," she snickered, but looked up at me one last time. "Thanks."
"I love you," I said with a chuckle, shaking my head. "Now, let's go to church."
A/N...Okay, so the case is coming along, and they've found out who approached Edward at the reception. We'll find more about about Lilith Laray as time moves on, including why Bella is hesitant.
Coming up, we'll meet The Preacher, and find out what happened in this convoluted case Edward and Bella are working on...and there just might be a new little addition to the family...not to mention Rose's opinion on Lilith, which is always interesting.
I need to thank you all for joining me on another adventure... I need to thank JenRar for beta'ing this and laughing at my nervousness concerning future chapters. Thanks to Goober_Lou, who said, "If I didn't know what was coming, I'd hit you." Yeah, she's kinda tough like that. And to MedusaInNY for all the hard work she puts into my blog, including the beautiful jobs she's done on the PDFs for the Angel Series.
Now...let me hear you. I want to know what you're thinking. I told you before, this one starts out a little different than the last one, but I'm promising you that it will...umm...turn. That being said, the next post is going to be Sunday, so we're right on track. Until then, Later! :)