Who Shot the Bitch Troll?
Chapter 1
Grace
The shocking news that we heard last night when we got home from our lovely dinner with Ethan and Mia is that Elena has been shot by an unknown intruder the night before when she returned fromTahiti. The minute that we returned home, Mia of course had to run up to her room to check her laptop and update her Facebook page. I think that she was hoping for some kind of a message from Ethan. Carrick frowned as she bolted up the stairs.
It is odd that he thinks that Ethan is too old for her when there is barely a one year age difference. Christian and Elliot are both much older than their girls (who are the same age as Mia), but I suppose that when the girl in question is your daughter, your perception of age difference is quite different than it would be for your son. I like Ethan very much and always have. In fact I much prefer him to his sister Kate. He is a much less aggressive personality. But he is not a push over.
While he has not necessarily been treating Mia with kid gloves, he had not been rushing into anything either. It seems that all three of my children are impulsive when it comes to relationships. But Mia is different from the boys in that they have well-established careers and are making their own money. At their ages they are ready to settle down with wives if they meet the right girls.
For her age, Mia is really very young, while Ethan appears to be more mature than his age. Perhaps it is because he plans to go into the field of psychology. I am also sure that he gained a lot of maturity during his travels abroad. It is obvious that he is attracted to Mia and that in the last two months his attraction has grown into affection. But he has a very independent streak and Mia is not going to push him into anything that they are not ready for. I think that he is a very wise young man.
However, Mia was not upstairs for ten minutes when she came flying down again shrieking, "The Bitch Troll is dead!"
"The who?" Carrick asked.
"The Bitch Troll," she answered. "You know, Elena."
"No, I didn't," he said sardonically. "So, it's ding dong the witch is dead! Eh?"
Mia giggled.
"That's a good one Dad," she commented. "She was apparently shot last night after she got home from her vacation. Some guy named Isaac found her tonight. He said that he was her boyfriend. He's only about 25 or so."
"She liked them young," said Carrick.
"Carrick!" I said reprovingly. "This is terrible. I mean, it's not like I'm all broken up about it, but at the same time it's horrible to think that she was murdered in her own home. Mia, was it some kind of robbery or break in?"
"It didn't say," she answered. "You're not sorry are you?"
I have trouble responding honestly. I have a hard time feeling sympathy whatsoever, but as a doctor, I regret the loss of any life. If I put my personal feelings about the woman aside, I hate to see anyone die violently like that. This is why I hate guns so much.
"Well, I, for one, have to get up early tomorrow morning," said Carrick. "I'm going to turn in. Are you coming, Grace?"
"In a minute," I replied
I wanted to call up Christian to find out if he had heard the news, however he wasn't answering his phone. No doubt, he turned in early too. So I went to bed, determined to contact him right away.
Now I am sitting here stirring my tea as Gretchen hustles around the kitchen beginning her morning chores. I am due at the hospital in an hour. Christian must still be busy, because my call went straight to voicemail. I contemplate calling Ana, but I don't want to unsettle her.
I want to see what the latest news is, but obviously the newspaper doesn't have anything since their deadline was last night. I go into the living room and turn on the television. I see a reporter standing outside of Elena's house, which is cordoned off with yellow police tape because it is now a crime scene. He seems to just be starting a summary.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he says. "Police still have no solid leads in their investigation of the murder of socialite and beauty spa owner, Elena Lincoln. So far, all they have been able to ascertain is that she returned from a vacation in the South Pacific on Monday night, and that shortly after she entered her home, she was shot in the abdomen at point blank range. She was found last night when her boyfriend, Isaac Burns, came over to meet her for a date. Burns was the last person to speak to her, late Monday night, just before she returned home.
"As of now, the crime scene has yielded no clues. There were no signs of a break in or forced entry, no evidence of any kind of robbery, and no fingerprints other than those of Mrs. Lincoln, Mr. Burns, and her housekeeper, Mrs. Winters who came in the prepare the house for her return on Monday. The police believe that the murder may have been a hit by someone with a grudge against Mrs. Lincoln. There is Det. Clark who is heading up the investigation."
He turns to Clark, who is walking away from the house.
"Det. Clark, do you have time to answer a couple of questions?"
I recognize Det. Clark, because he was the lead investigator in the Jack Hyde affair. He is gruff, but extremely competent. He glowers at the reporter, but doesn't walk away.
"Why not?" he sighs.
"Detective, is it true that you have virtually no leads in this case?" asks the reporter.
"That statement is not entirely accurate," he replies, adopting a professional tone. "At the moment, we have no physical evidence, however, the CSI team has not completed their analysis of the scene. We will also need an autopsy to determine the weapon used. Lastly, we are looking at Mrs. Lincoln's acquaintances and business dealings to see if we can come up with any suspects or motives."
"Do you have any reason to believe that Mrs. Lincoln was involved in any shady dealings?" asks the reporter eagerly.
"None whatsoever," answers Clark sternly.
"So then, you have no idea about any potential suspects," states the reporter.
"No comment," growls Clark and walks away.
"So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen," declares the reporter. "Virtually no progress in the murder case of Mrs. Elena Lincoln. Please stay tuned to Eyewitness News for the latest updates."
I quickly click off the remote and think to myself, that this could mean trouble for us, not to mention Christian. Perhaps it was not such a bad thing that he treated her so generously when he broke off his business association with her. There is no reason for anyone to suspect that he would want any harm to come to her.
However, there was obviously bad blood between the rest of the family and her. Especially since we were bad mouthing her socially and discouraging our friends from visiting the salons. Mia, in fact, had been particularly vociferous in her denigrating of the witch. I decide to call Carrick right away. This is something that he should know and he might not have seen the broadcast.
Clark
I know that I probably shouldn't have talked to that reporter, but once the word gets out about the rift between Lincoln and the Greys, the shit is going to hit the fan. The last thing that I need is a bunch of amateur sleuths nosing around in my investigation. It's better to throw a few bones to them now so that they can milk this angle of the story for all it's worth.
It's obvious that this was a professional job. No run of the mill criminal or lay person could have possibly done such a good job of covering their tracks. Our best bet is that this was a hit, orchestrated by someone with a lot of money who could afford first rate service. But knowing that brings us no closer to the perp, the motive, or whoever ordered the hit.
When they dig the bullet out of Lincoln that will give us a clue. At least we'll know what kind of a weapon that we're dealing with. And the CSI team fully vacuumed the bedroom to pick up any fibers or hairs that might lead us to the perp. Our forensic auditors have already swept through the four Esclava salons, grabbing any paper records and computers that might hold any clues as to any possible business motive.
We've got that turd, Isaac, under surveillance, but I don't think that we are going to get too far with him. He certainly was not the perp. He hasn't got the brains to pull off something like this and I doubt that he has the money. In his own weird way, he seemed pretty up set by her death. Maybe she was his "sugar mama." My gut tells me that we need to keep an eye on him. Something tells me that his odd behavior may lead us in the right direction.
Christian
I can tell that no one has made the association between Elena and me yet by the fact that there are no reporters outside of Grey House when we arrive this morning. I don't have to worry about any of my team saying anything to the press about our business relationship. If the cops come snooping around, there isn't much to tell.
All of my financial dealings are always clear-cut and above board. I financed the salon business six years ago because Elena had a strong business plan. She knew all that beauty shit and had a pretty good head on her shoulders. The venture was profitable, but I got out because I was no longer interested in that line of business, end of story. That is what I told Ros who handled the whole thing.
Yes, I was generous with Elena in the break up, but I might as well tell them that she gave me the original hundred grand to start up Grey Enterprise Holdings. That was a good investment for her. It's simply a matter of one hand washing the other. If I try to hide her part in my start up, they'll only figure it out later and then it will come back to bite me in the ass.
Right now, that is the last thing on my mind. Ana looked much better this morning than she has in a while. I think that feeling the baby move has really lifted her spirits. She claims that she feels him "flutter" every time I touch her belly. I am glad that she has that to occupy her mind while all of this Elena shit is going on.
She was even a good sport about bringing Luke along to work. She knows that if she needs anything with regard to the baby, I want my man on the spot to help her out. Now I want to make sure that she doesn't have to deal with any shit from the cops. Sawyer has been following my instructions regarding her well-being to the letter, so I have complete confidence in him.
One of my first calls of the morning is from Mia.
"Did you hear that the Bitch Troll is dead?" she asks gleefully.
"I think that everyone in Seattle knows by now," I reply.
"Is Ana thrilled?" she asks.
"Mia, how can you say something so callous?" I answer sharply. "Ana really couldn't care less. She is much more excited because she felt the baby move yesterday. In case you've forgotten, she's pregnant. It's pretty much absorbing her attention."
"So are you glad?" she persists.
"Mia! Shut the fuck up!" I yell. "You can't go around making stupid statements like that. Gloating over someone who has been murdered, especially when the police have no leads is a really bad idea. And if you don't believe me, just ask Dad."
"Keep your hair on Christian," she says playfully. "I wouldn't say anything like that to anyone outside the family."
I count to ten before I start to rip her head off.
"Well, just don't say anything like that to anyone inside or outside the family," I growl. "Now I have work to do. Some of us do have jobs to do, you know."
I slam down the phone before she can make any more ridiculous remarks. Sometimes I don't know if she's twenty-two or twelve. And Mother wonders why Ethan is hesitant to start a serious relationship with her. She's lucky that he had even looked twice at her. I decide to call up Dad.
"Christian," he says as soon as he picks up. "To what do I owe this honor?"
"You need to put a muzzle on your daughter," I reply, not wasting any time on niceties.
It's one of those few things that Dad and I agree about, no shitting around on the phone during business hours.
"What has our little loose cannon said now?" he asks with a sigh.
"She just called me up to gloat over Elena's demise," I reply. "Fucking irresponsible if you ask me, considering recent family history with her."
"Agreed," says Dad. "I'll deal with it."
"Thanks, Dad," I say as I hang up.
Well, that's a relief. My intercom buzzes.
"Yes, Andrea," I say.
"Mr. Grey," she states in her most efficient voice. "A forensic auditor is here asking for all the records of your business dealings with the Esclava salons."
That didn't take them long.
"Do they have the proper search warrant?" I ask.
"I've already had legal look them over," she replies.
Thank fuck for that. That's why I pay her the big bucks. She handles the details without asking.
"Call accounting and tell them to give them whatever they want," I say with authority.
"Yes, sir," she says briskly.
Never let them see you sweat. I had called Ros last night after I heard the news to make sure that everything was in order. Accounting will have to make copies of everything, but then they won't realize that we were ready for them. As I said, nothing left to chance.
My intercom buzzes again.
"It's Taylor," says Andrea.
"Send him in," I reply.
Taylor walks in.
"I just wanted you to know that the police are asking questions about Mrs. Lincoln," he states.
"Mrs. Lincoln has never been here," I reply. "There's nothing to know."
"Yes, I know, sir," he answers. "I just wanted to let you know, personally."
"Gotcha, Taylor," I say.
And with that he turns and leaves. That's what I like about my business. I know everything that's going on. There's nothing left to chance. I knew that the cops would come sniffing around once they discovered my connection with Esclava. The important thing is to give them everything that they ask for and hope that they are satisfied with that and go away.
I suppose at some point, Clark, who I hear is in charge of the investigation, will be coming around looking for an alibi from all of us, if only out of desperation. That's an easy one. I was home all night taking care of my pregnant wife and I have CCTV footage to prove it. Clark and his fine toothcomb may be a pain in the ass, but he has proved very thorough in the Jack Hyde mess. If anyone can find Elena's killer, it's him. And that is very comforting to me, because it is not me. I feel sorry for the poor fucker who did do it.
I hate to admit it because I know that she was a manipulative bitch who did her best to break up Ana and me, but I'm sorry that she had to go the way that she did. I won't be shedding any tears, but for many years she was a close and trusted friend. She just couldn't accept that I had moved on. She put me in a position where it was her or Ana. But there was never any choice involved. It was always Ana.
However, I do want to see this case solved sooner rather than later. I don't want the cops to have any more excuses than necessary to come digging into our lives. It is not going to take them long to discover that my mother and Elena parted ways on very bad terms a few months ago. And thanks to my sister-in-law-to-be Kate, my brother and sister know why. She also passed along Ana's nickname for her, "Bitch Troll."
And the whole story is going to take on a very salacious edge when the police do a thorough inspection of the whole house and find out that Elena has a playroom of her own down in the basement. In the community, such rooms are known as dungeons, and there's no better word to describe Elena's room. It looks like something out of a medieval nightmare. In fact it makes my playroom look like a luxury hotel room or something.
My personal opinion is that Linc is behind the murder. He's been under surveillance by Welch since I fucked his company. Even now, Welch is looking into his whereabouts and the possibility that he might have had enough money to hire a professional hit man. I'm still waiting to hear back from him about it.
Arguably, Linc got back his from Elena when he beat the shit out of her seven years ago. But his recent "run of bad luck" stems from the fact that he went after my family, and did so as revenge for the affair that I had with Elena. He knows that all of his problems really go back to her. And who knows why he would have snapped now?
Elliot
"Hey, babe, how was your day?" I ask as I come into the apartment.
As always, I get an enthusiastic hug and kiss from Kate. Man, she just can't get enough of me. Even at the end of the workday, she looks absolutely gorgeous. But I can also see that she's got some bee in her bonnet. No doubt it has to do with the murder of the Bitch Troll. All of the media outlets are going nuts because the police have no leads. I'm sure that she is looking for any possible leads herself.
"It's been a very busy day," she replies as she tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder. "I've been running down blind alleys all day."
She then gets her "inquiring mind" look on her face. Shit! I was afraid that this might happen.
"Don't look at me!" I say, as I put up my hands. "I don't know shit about that situation and that's the way that I plan to keep it."
"You haven't talked to anyone in your family?" she continues with her usual persistence.
"Only Dad," I answer. "He called to tell me to keep my mouth shut. Not that I know anything anyway. He just wants to make sure that no family secrets make their way into the press."
"Family secrets?"
"Mia bugged the shit out of Christian by calling him up to pump him for info about the Bitch Troll," I reply. "He called Dad."
"What did Mia say?" Kate asks curiously.
"I don't know exactly," I say. "But Dad called it stupid and irresponsible. It seems as if she wants to celebrate her death like she's won the lottery or something. Even I'm not dim enough to do that."
"That is pretty dumb," admits Kate thoughtfully. "Mia really can be immature at times."
"No kidding," I say. "But what are we talking about Mia for? Or even Elena? After a long day at work, I'm in the mood for a cold beer and my hot fiancée."
"You're in that kind of mood, whether you've had a long day at work or not," she answers slyly. "How's the house coming?"
"Just putting on the finishing touches," I say. "The furniture is ready to come in, but Christian wants to wait to move in until after the holidays. He doesn't want to put any extra stress on Ana. They're going out this weekend to pick out a Christmas tree, if you can believe it."
"I'm surprised that he just doesn't send out Taylor for it," she says.
"Oh, no," I answer with a grin. "That's not good enough for Ana. She wants to do things the old fashioned way. They're going to go to one of those Christmas tree farms outside of town and pick one out. Then he's going to cut it down."
"I have never pictured your brother as the lumber jack type," she says drily.
"Me neither," I reply. "But that's what Ray used to do, so all she had to do was look at him with those big blue eyes and as usual, he was a goner."
"So the tree is for Escala?"
"Ana's got a spot all picked out in the great room," I say. "It's going to have to be a pretty big tree to fill up that space. Oh, and we're all invited over on Sunday for a tree trimming party. Egg nog, Christmas carols, and the works. Whatever little Ana wants, little Ana gets."
"It must be the baby," shrugs Kate. "Ana never made this kind of a big deal over Christmas before. Of course, she used to spend from Thanksgiving to Christmas agonizing over which parent to spend it with. Her Mom would nag her to see her. Ray never nagged, but Ana never wanted to leave him alone. But how do you know about all these plans?"
"Mom called," I answer. "She and Ana talked it through. You know this year, Ray is going to come up and stay with them at Escala. Carla is going to stay in Georgia with Bob."
"Good," states Kate firmly. "Ana was very uncomfortable at Thanksgiving with both Ray and Bob there. Is your Mom still trying to get us to change our Christmas plans?"
"No, I think that she realizes that that's a lost cause," I answer.
"Did she mention anything about the Prices?" she asks.
"Not a word," I say. "And despite your innate curiosity and nose for news, I suggest that you leave that topic alone."
"You sound like Ana," she grumbles.
"Kate," I say, trying to be patient. "I know that you like to stir the pot and okay, I admit it, sometimes I like to as well. But you have to be careful not to hurt people's feelings. I mean, your family all have pretty thick skins, but there's just a lot more shit in mine. Just lay off on all that crap."
Kate is now looking pissed. But what the hell? She and her father were able to waltz away from the Price leak because it was clearly the work of an incompetent low-level reporter. But the next time it happens, things might not be so easy. And stirring up the Elena shit for the whole world to see could backfire big time. Yeah, everyone in my family couldn't stand the bitch, but no one would have shot her.
There is no way that anyone of the Greys had anything to do with that. I mean, we've got to be the most anti-gun people in the state. Look at all the money that Christian and Dad have given to various gun control initiatives. I just don't want this holiday to get fucked up by cops asking questions and digging all kinds of shit out to help fill the holiday lull in the twenty-four hour news cycle.
"Look Kate," I say more gently. "My brother Christian used to be the original Scrooge. The idea that he is actually going to enjoy this Christmas with us is something new and exciting. Besides, you know that every time that you wind him up, it only gets Ana in trouble. So for once in your life, just let it go."
She looks back at me with her stunning green eyes and sighs.
"I know," she says. "But when the truth comes out it's going to be story of the century. You can't blame me for wanting to be the one to break it."
"I know, babe," I say. "I know that you are very ambitious. But this isn't about your career or your father's business. This is about my family. With your insider information, I know that you could start looking into places that no other reporter would. But don't do it. In the long run it could cost you, cost us more."
She then begins to look thoughtful.
"My Dad always said that I'm like a bull in a china shop when I sink my teeth into a story," she replies slowly. "That's what makes me a good reporter."
"Yeah, but bulls in china shops can do a lot of damage," I answer. "A lot of collateral damage."
She grimaces, but still seems to be stubbornly hanging onto her original point of view. Finally, I get a spark of inspiration. I know that everyone considers me a big dope compared with my brother, but I have my moments.
"Look Kate," I say. "In six months, you're going to be a Grey, not a Kavanagh anymore. This is not the last time that you are going to be faced with the conflict of family versus family business. You will have to choose where your loyalties lie."
"I wasn't planning on changing my name," she answers. "Are you going to go into a full blown thermonuclear meltdown like Christian did?"
"Okay, fine, call yourself whatever you like" I reply, not giving a shit whether she changes her name to Grey or not. "Whatever you say. But does that mean that you will put aside my family's, our family's feelings for your career? Do you know what kind of atmosphere that would create at family get-togethers? Everyone will be pussy footing around you, afraid that any careless comment might end up on the evening news. Is that what you want?"
"No," she admits reluctantly.
"Good," I say in relief. "Now why don't we go out and get some dinner? Then we can come home and sweat up the sheets for a while."
She smiles up at me. Nothing seems to make her happier than a little play time in bed. It's one of those things that have us so perfectly matched. Both of us have a very high sex drive so we totally fulfill each other's needs. And we enjoy a lot of the same things. Christian is worried that she is going to run circles around me once we get married, but the chances of that happening are minimal.
I had her measure pretty early on in our relationship. No two ways about it, she's a wildcat in bed and she had that going in her favor. There was no way that she was going to be a one-night stand. However, it's her brain that has kept me interested. She's one sharp cookie and figured out quickly that if she tried to walk all over me then I would dump her. I have no use for that shit. I can basically get laid anytime with just about any girl that I want. When we reached a point where I needed to put her in her place, I casually dropped a word about my affair with Gia.
It was pretty convenient that Christian decided to use her for the refurb on the house at the same time that Kate was starting to get too bossy. After I suggestively mentioned that I was looking forward to working with Ms. Matteo again, Kate wanted to meet her. Rather than meet with me at the office, I had her come to the apartment. It was quite a scene really.
Gia was in her finest form, leaning over the plans we were discussing so that her tits were practically falling out of her blouse. She kept laying her hand on mine as I sketched and at one point even started to rub my neck. Christian hates that kind of "man eater" behavior, but I subtly encouraged her. I knew that it was getting to Kate, by the way that she started to bang things around the apartment.
After Gia left, we had a royal blow up, during which I "admitted" that we once had a fling. She began to make all sorts of comments about what a slut that she clearly was. It was hard to keep myself from laughing. If there is anyone in Seattle who has fucked more of the opposite sex than Gia, it's me. I didn't want to go there however. All that I wanted was for her to realize was that she wasn't the only fish in the ocean.
Afterwards we had some really awesome make up sex, as Kate was determined to prove to me that I had no reason to look elsewhere. But now that we are engaged, I don't want her to take me, and my easy-going attitude towards life for granted. If there's one thing that you don't mess with, it's my family. And I don't give a flying fuck whether she takes the Grey name or not. If she's my wife then she's my family. And nothing comes before that.