Who Shot the Bitch Troll?
Chapter 3
Taylor
I never thought that I would see the day when Mr. Grey would go Christmas tree shopping. Of course it goes without saying that he will always do whatever Mrs. Grey wants, so that part of it is not so surprising. And, as usual, he can never do anything the way that the rest of us poor mortals do. Thus, the plans for this excursion have been put in place with all the care of a major battle offensive.
First I had to research all of the best Christmas tree farms in the Seattle area on the Internet. Then he demanded personal reconnaissance, so yesterday I found myself visiting the best places. It was a good thing that I did, because there was only one place that had trees big enough to satisfy his requirements.
Now most people go out to these places, pick a tree, and tie it to the roof of their cars. However, due to the size of the tree, I realized that I was going to have to hire a flat bed truck. When the proprietor of the farm learned that Mr. Grey intends to cut the tree down himself, he was incredulous.
Cutting down a tree that size requires a certain amount of expertise. But knowing Grey, I made him realize that we will have to work around that. Once he finds out that his actual customer is Christian Grey, he is a lot more amenable, even if he still does think that he is nuts.
Mrs. Grey wants him to cut down a tree the way that her father used to, so that is what he is determined to do. We negotiated for a while and then came up with a plan that will give Grey the illusion that he is cutting down the tree by himself, while the owner will make sure that the job is done safely for all involved. And once he finds out that he will pay anything that he asks, he is even more willing to play along with the charade. A usual, money talks.
I am not the only one who has been carried along by the Christmas spirit. All week, Sawyer has been running around Seattle with Mrs. Grey helping her to get what she needs to decorate this tree, from lights to ropes of garland to ornaments. I know that Grey was a little worried about what she might want. He is afraid that she might want some tacky crap. But it turns out that as usual she has excellent taste. She decided that she would only use white lights and silver garlands, with a beautiful white star. The decorations are all silver, crystal, and gold.
Sawyer told me that Mrs. Grey is finally getting used to being rich. They didn't go anywhere like a Walmart or Christmas Tree Shop. No, her ornaments only came from the finest jewelry stores and high end shops. Because she is pregnant, Mr. Grey doesn't want her carrying anything around, so he felt like an idiot following her around with a basket as she made her selections the first day. But that's why we get paid the big bucks. Every once in a while you have to endure a little humiliation. I would really have liked to see a big gorilla like Luke following the petite, little Mrs. Grey around like her ladies maid or something.
However, after the first time, he convinced her to bring Gail along. He told Mr. Grey that he was concerned that he couldn't keep close enough surveillance if he was walking behind her so closely. Therefore, Gail went with them and carried the basket, while Sawyer scanned the stores, which at this time of year were pretty crowded. It was actually a pretty good idea. And Gail had lots of fun helping Mrs. Grey make her selections.
Since they got married, Mr. Grey has been very particular about the whole staff addressing his wife as Mrs. Grey. However, in the case of Gail, Mrs. Grey has told her that when Mr. Grey isn't around she wants her to call her Ana. Since Gail has spent so much time with her on days when Mrs. Grey hasn't been up to going to work and she takes care of her in so many other ways, they have really become good friends. It's good for both of them.
Mrs. Grey relies on her for many things and Gail is only too happy to help her. She was actually pretty bored before Mrs. Grey came to live with us. It's rather interesting, because Dr. Trevelyan discovered their secret one afternoon when she stopped by for a surprise visit. The next day she called up Gail and told her to keep up the good work. The most important thing for Mrs. Grey was to be happy and worry free. So that means that they are allowed to countermand Grey's orders when those orders create anxiety.
She feels that Mrs. Grey is stressed out by Mr. Grey's constant hovering. She knows that Gail would never do anything or encourage Mrs. Grey to do anything that might in any way harm the baby. Chips and diet soda every once in a while, if they keep her happy, are not a problem. She said that if Mr. Grey if found out about their little secret then she would intervene.
On Saturday morning, we take off for the Christmas tree farm. Mrs. Grey's father Mr. Steele arrived earlier to spend the holidays with us and is coming along for the ride. I have to admit that I like that man a lot. He is very down to earth and it didn't take him long to express his own opinions regarding the relationships between staff and family.
"What the hell is this about all of these young fellows calling me Mr. Steele?" he complains right off the bat.
Then, looking at Sawyer, Ryan, and myself, he says, "You boys just call me, Ray. Do you understand? I won't have any of this Mr. Steele nonsense going on in my own daughter's house. It'll make me feel like I'm working or something."
"Yes, sir," I said respectfully.
It was rather amusing to hear him because he is really a very quiet man. However, he and Mr. Grey went fishing out in Aspen back in October and he has loosened up a lot since then. Mrs. Grey wasn't interested in going because she loathes fishing, so she took the opportunity to spend some time with Miss Kavanagh.
I know that this displeased Mr. Grey, but since they weren't leaving the apartment, he reluctantly agreed. And since I know that he still doesn't like her much, he was probably just as happy that he didn't have to tolerate her presence to keep his wife happy. Sawyer reported that she did try to talk Mrs. Grey into going out, but Mrs. Grey was simply not interested. I think that she knew that Mr. Grey would have been back in a heartbeat and she didn't want to spoil their time together.
Ray was very amused when he saw the flatbed truck that we had brought along for the tree. Since he knows something about felling trees, he asked all kinds of questions about how Mr. Grey thought that he was going to bring the tree down himself. Naturally, Mr. Grey had no answer for that. It was all that Sawyer and I could do to keep from laughing, as we knew that the whole thing had been set up so that Mr. Grey would feel like he was doing the job.
Luckily, Mrs. Grey doesn't know any more about felling trees than Mr. Grey. As we pull up, she is delighted by the tree and simply thrilled that we have found such a good one. As she is thanking me for my fine work, Ray looks over at me and shakes his head. I give him a wink and I can see him nodding.
I had the opportunity to go fishing with Ray and Grey and found the old guy to be a hoot. But then again, since we're both ex-army, we speak the same language. Sometimes I think that he feels more comfortable with the security detail than he does with the Greys for that very reason.
The owner of the tree farm hands Mr. Grey the axe and he manages to cut it down so that it falls easily in the right direction. We then haul it up on the flatbed and drive it back into town. Getting it up to the apartment is a challenge, but I had already made sure that service elevator was large enough. It is a great relief when the tree is finally standing in the great room. For all the hassle it was to get it there, the expression on Mrs. Grey's face makes it all worthwhile. She is clearly delighted.
That's the thing about Mrs. Grey. She doesn't ask for much and she is very grateful for the smallest things we do for her. When she does ask for something big, it makes you really want to make it happen. After all the trouble that she went through back in the summer, I am very glad that she has had a great autumn and winter. And after years of working through Christmas with "Ebenezer" Grey, it is like a breath of fresh air.
She is insisting that I take off tomorrow to spend the whole day with Sophie. She even convinced Mr. Grey that I should have the day off for Christmas so that I could see her, but her mother and step-father are taking her to Disneyland. It is disappointing for me, but Gail has insisted that I come with her to spend the day with her sister Portland. If I can't spend the day with Sophie, I am glad that I can spend it with Gail, off duty.
Grace
As Carrick, Mia, and I travel up in the elevator to Christian's apartment, I can barely contain my excitement. The door opens and Sawyer greets us. Apparently, Taylor has today off so that he can spend the day with his daughter. We are then greeted by Anastasia, who is looking lovely in a white and gold maternity dress. But the real surprise is seeing Christian up on a ladder, beginning to put the lights in place, wearing a Santa hat, of all things.
Elliot, also wearing a hat, is holding the ladder and has a huge grin on his face, no doubt because of our reaction. Kate is over at the breakfast bar putting together snacks, while Ray and Ethan are sitting by the fire chatting. The minute that she catches sight of him, Mia squeals, runs over, and plants a big kiss on his cheek. I don't know who turns a darker red with embarrassment, Ethan or Ray. As usual, Mia's public display of affection is over the top.
However, she is quickly disappointed to see that the men are talking fishing. Now Ray Steele is a rather taciturn man, but if one thing can get him going, it is the subject of fishing. He is telling Ethan all about the fishing trip to Aspen that he and Christian took. Apparently, the weekend that the kids went to Aspen, Ethan had gone fishing with Christian. Now they are joking because both times Christian was unable to land a fish. Mia sits and tries to follow along, but she can't keep up or, luckily, get a word in edgewise.
I spent a good hour with her before we left, explaining what is and what is not appropriate behavior. And I declared that under no circumstances whatsoever, was she allowed to mention the Elena Lincoln mess. Today was going to be happy family time. I want nothing to happen that might ruin Ana and Christian's first Christmas together, no matter how curious she was.
Carrick spoke with Christian yesterday and found out that so far the police have not come anywhere near him, other than to pull the business records on the business partnership. Christian assured him that everything was completely by the book and that he had not even personally handled the deal.
But now I can see that Ana has certainly set the scene for Christmas. The fire is going in the fireplace. There are poinsettia plants in various locations. She has also set up a crèche on one of the tables. Looking around, even Carrick is impressed. In fact, she has done a better job with her Christmas decorating than I have mine.
She and Kate return from the kitchen with the snacks, mostly fruit, vegetables, cheese, and crackers. There is one basket of baked chips. Ana is looking much better than she did on Monday and I tell her so.
"Thank you for calling up Gail," she says shyly. "The next day. It made her feel better about you catching us out."
Kate rolls her eyes.
"I don't know what the big deal is," she says. "If you and she want to hang out like normal people."
"Hey, baby!"
It's Elliot's voice. They have moved the ladder as Christian is winding the lights around the tree. He is intent on making sure that each is securely clipped to a branch. However, since Elliot is holding the base, he is close enough to hear every word. Kate looks over at him and changes the subject.
"You've really picked out some incredible ornaments," she comments.
Ana giggles.
"Gail came with me to help," she replies. "Sawyer was embarrassed when he had to hold the basket as I chose. And he said that it interfered with his guard duty. We had fun."
"Somehow," I say. "I can't quite picture Sawyer walking along with a basket as you picked out what you wanted. Kate, how are the wedding plans going?"
And now Kate is off and running at the mouth about the upcoming wedding. Just hearing her going on and on about everything makes me glad that Christian only gave us a month to plan Ana's wedding. Of course, Ana was no where near as fussy as Kate about different things. Christian had told her sky's the limit, but she had no idea of how high the sky could be. Mia did, and for a while it appeared that she and Kate might come to blows over what they wanted.
However, I took matters out of their hands and helped Ana plan something as simple and elegant as she wanted. Although she may not have grown up in an affluent environment, she ha excellent taste. Looking around and my son's apartment, I can see that they are very compatible in this way. Christian has always leaned toward understated elegance as well. Lord only knows what we will have to endure when Mia gets married.
By now, Christian has gotten the lights down to the lower level of the tree and he and Elliot are both working rapidly to snap them on. After they wrap the garland around the tree, we will be ready to decorate. Mia, Kate, Ana, and I lay out the various decorations on the couch. Mia is disappointed that there is nothing colorful, but Ana simply says that she wants to tree to fit in with the decor of the apartment. But one look from me, and Mia minds her own business. I look over and see that Elliot has been watching and listening again. He gives me a wink.
We have not had this kind of tree trimming at home since the children were little. Both Carrick and I are too busy and Mia doesn't have the attention span for it. It is only thanks to Gretchen that our tree is up and decorated for the holiday season. As we work, it is fun to teasing Christian and Elliot teasing each other. Elliot has always been a goof, but a lighthearted Christian is a new thing. Ethan has jumped over to help out and now the six young people are busy, happily chatting away.
As I stand off to the side with Carrick and Ray, I can't help commenting.
"I never thought that I would see the day where a family gathering would be so normal."
Ray looks at me quizzically.
"What do you mean by normal?" he asks.
"Well," I hedge. "We don't exactly have a family dynamic where the kids all work together like this. And Christian has never been so fully engaged in family life."
"Could have fooled me," he replies. "Ever since I've met Christian he has been nothing but kind and concerned, you know, determined that I be included in all this family stuff. Now Annie and me haven't had a whole lot of that. Carla did a few things when Annie was younger, but after the divorce me and Annie stopped trying. But I know that she missed it."
"How?" asks Carrick.
"When she would come home for the holidays, she would talk about all the great stuff that Kate and her family were doing," he replies. "In fact, Kate invited her home for Christmas every year. But Annie would never go. Last year, Kate even went so far as to call me up and ask if Annie could come. Annie was real mad about that."
"I can imagine that she was," says Carrick dryly.
"Well, Annie didn't want to leave me alone," he explains. "I mean, if she really wanted to go to Kate's, I wouldn't have stopped her, but it wouldn't have been much of a holiday for me either. That's why I jumped at the chance to come up here, even if its a little to stuffy for my taste."
"Stuffy?" I ask curiously.
"Maybe that's not the right word," he says. "But look around. It feels like I'm living in some kind of a museum or something."
Glancing around, I have to agree with him.
"I'm looking forward to them moving into that new house," he continues. "Now that's going to be a real home. Of course the kids will take care of giving it that lived in look, if you know what I mean. And Annie has set aside a bedroom for me. Even asked me about what I wanted there."
"She told me about that," I say. "She was surprised that you let her do it for you."
"Well," he replies. "A year ago, I wouldn't have let her. But you know, nearly coming face to face with St. Peter will give you a new perspective. I'm not going to live forever and I want to spend more time with my daughter and grandkids. I'm not going to let a little bit of pride get in my way. And I know that Annie feels the same way. You know, for years it felt like we were the only family each other got."
"Well," I say. "Now you have an even bigger family."
Neither of us mentions Carla. It's not that she doesn't matter, in fact I know that she means a great deal to Ana. Although Carla has often been absent in her life, she is still her mother. And that is a bond that is nearly impossible to break.
Clark
Linc Lincoln is quite an operator. In fact, if there is anyone who can equal his ex-wife in the sleaze department, I would say that it is definitely him. It would seem that as much as she likes her "men" young, that he likes his "women" young. Just like her, he seems to be treading on just this side of legal consent.
When interviewing him about his ex-wife, he had very little to say about her that was good. He gave me the impression that she was a gold-digging whore who was just looking for the easiest way into the high society of Seattle. His money was her ticket in, as well as her friendship with Grace Grey. He was only to happy to aid and abet her, as her social contacts turned into some very lucrative business contacts for him.
He gave her lots of money to spend on clothing, jewelry, and any beauty treatments that he wanted. He referred to it as the cost of doing business and was sorry that there were no tax write-offs involved. He also funded all of her charitable causes, and was pleased because these were good tax write-offs. He was one of those guys who made me want to take a shower after I interviewed him.
While it was obviously a loveless marriage, it had gone on for quite a number of years before the divorce happened. When I asked him about his ex-wife's dungeon, he laughed and said that if she had been into that kinky shit when she was married to him they might still be married. And, no, he said emphatically, she never had any kind of room like that in their old house.
As to the reason for the divorce, he simply shrugged and said that they were no longer compatible. Considering what the marriage had been based on to begin with, it seemed to me that they were perfectly compatible, two users doing a hell of a job using each other.
Naturally, I asked him about Isaac's accusation that he had beat the shit out of her before he divorced her. He said that Isaac must have been mistaken. Mrs. Lincoln had been mugged and the mugger had never been found. That was the story that she gave at the ER when she was brought in, but there were conflicting accounts. He had called the EMTs when he said that he had found her at home. However, it was never clarified whether the attack had occurred at home or elsewhere.
The domestic violence unit had been called in, but they had come up empty. And here was no sexual attack involved. All in all, the whole thing reeks of cover up, but since it's a seven-year-old crime there's not much that can be done now. She's not here to recant her story so even though my gut tells me that Lincoln was the perp there's no proving it.
I asked him about the fact that is wife had lent a hundred grand to Grey to start up his company. He was pretty pissed about that, but since Grey paid back every dime, there wasn't much that he could do about it. I have my suspicions about their relationship however. The minute that I mentioned Grey's name there was a flash of anger in his eyes that he very quickly got under control. Whatever shit has gone down between the two of them, there is certainly no love lost.
After talking with Lincoln, my next stop is going to be Christian Grey. There is something about that triangle of Grey-Lincoln-Lincoln that smells pretty bad. I can tell when someone is lying and when Lincoln says that he has nothing against Grey, the whole thing does not ring true. But first I want to go back to Isaac, much as I dread it. The only thing that I hope is that he is in better shape than the first time I spoke with him.
Checking out the address that he gave me the first time he spoke to me, I can see that it is a dump in one of the worst sections of Seattle. I guess if he was her little boy toy, she didn't treat him very well. But then again, I know shit about how these things work.
Young Isaac is certainly more lucid than he was during our first conversation. He's lost the dog collar and is wearing more normal clothes. Now that she's been outed, he seems a lot more comfortable talking, as if he had been really holding back before. It turns out that she was one hell of a "mistress."
"How did you meet Mrs. Lincoln?" I ask again.
"I met her in a local club," he replies. "She came in looking for a new submissive. Rumor had it that she was into some pretty extreme punishments. There was nothing that she wouldn't do. But she also had the reputation of being a great fuck and had a good incentive program."
"Incentive program?" I ask, not really wanting the details.
"Well, yeah," he says, as if its common knowledge or something. "That's the way it works. Your Domme sets up the the rules and if you break them you get punished. If you please your Domme then you get pleasure."
"Pleasure?" I ask, not really wanting to hear the answer.
"Orgasms," he says with a smirk. "It's the other side of letting your mistress beat the shit out of you. And I will tell you, Mistress knows how to give a really great orgasm. In fact . . ."
"That's enough," I interrupt. "I get the idea. I don't need any examples."
He actually looks disappointed.
"What does she get out of it?" I ask.
"She gets the same thing, really amazing orgasms," he replies. "She knows how to fuck like you wouldn't believe, all for her pleasure. One of her favorite punishments was to withhold orgasm. She really got off on that. It's worse than the beatings really. You know?"
"No, I wouldn't know, as a matter of fact," I say. "But weren't you ever tempted to get her arrested for assault and battery?"
Now he looks at me like I'm crazy.
"Why would I do that?" he asks.
"Are you telling me that you enjoy getting beaten with whips, canes and all that other shit she had in her basement?" I ask.
"Of course," he replies. "Do you know what kind of an honor it is to be selected a the submissive of such a skilled Domme as my mistress?"
"That's not how I would ever have thought to view it," I reply wryly. "Just out of curiosity, do you miss her?"
"Yes," he says immediately. "I know that I will have to find another Domme soon, but she will never be as good as Mistress."
I can't help myself. I have to ask the question.
"Why do you have to find another Domme?"
Once again, he looks at me as if he is talking to an idiot.
"I need a Domme so that I have someone to control me," he explains. "Right now I feel lost. I have no one to tell me what to do."
As I walk away from his rat hole apartment, I feel like I am the one who is lost. I really hope that I don't have to delve any more deeply into this crazy alternate lifestyle. I also have a feeling that I may not have a choice. Even though Isaac clearly had nothing to do with the murder, he misses her shit for crying out loud, this world is too dark not to have something to do with it.
Elena Lincoln may have been some highly skilled Dominatrix, but she was still dabbling in a very dangerous world. Anyone who would buy into such craziness would have to be a little crazy themselves. I mean, just because all of this shit is legal between consenting adults, doesn't make it normal. And even though they seem to operate under all sorts of rules and contracts doesn't mean someone might go off the deep end.
Whatever happened to Elena Lincoln was some form of revenge. When I get back to the office, I go to my desk and discover that the forensic auditors have been through every scrap of paper that they could find about Elena Lincoln. She did not leave a last will and testament. Shit! I need to add a new category to my chart. And then, I need to finally go talk to Christian Grey.
Christian
Well, Clark has finally gotten around to interviewing me. I knew that it would come sooner or later. Welch has been working every angle of the story that he can think of, but he's come up empty too. And Welch is a hell of a lot better investigator than Clark and his Keystone cop buddies.
The first thing that he asks is if I want a lawyer present.
"No, I have nothing to hide," I reply coolly. "What do you want to know?"
"How long did you know Mrs. Lincoln?" he asks.
I squint my eyes.
"I'm really not sure," I reply. "I have known her since I was a kid. She seemed to be my Mom's friend forever."
"So then, you met her because she was a friend of your mother?" he asks.
"Yes," I say curtly.
I know exactly how to manage this kind of interrogation. Never give them more information than they ask for. Whatever he wants, he's going to have to work for. I have to be very careful about what I say. I don't want to tell an outright lie, because the truth can have a nasty way of showing up unexpectedly. On the other hand, I don't need to add anything to the scandalous nature of the story.
"When you dropped out of Harvard, she lent you the money to start up your own company?" he asks.
"Yes," I reply.
This is good. He has skipped through the messy parts, those teen years when what we were doing was clearly illegal on her part. Now that she's been outed, I have no desire to be tied to that lifestyle.
"Why would she do that?"
I shrug.
"I guess that she believed in me when no one else did," I say. "I didn't ask her for the money actually, I asked my Dad. He was pretty pissed that I had dropped out and said no. My Mom mentioned it to Mrs. Lincoln and she offered to lend me the money."
"Just like that?" he asks skeptically.
"Just like that," I confirm.
It's the truth. I didn't ask her for the money, she offered it to me.
"Did you pay her back?" he then asks.
"Of course, I did," I say, controlling my urge to roll my eyes. "I certainly had the resources to."
"Yes, of course," he says. "Then you invested in her salon business a year later."
Once again, I feel like rolling my eyes. I know that he knows all of this shit. He knows that I know that he knows it. Why do we have to rehash it?
"Yes, I did," I reply. "I was a silent partner."
"Silent?" he questions.
"Look, I was trying to help out an old friend who had helped me out before," I explain patiently. "It was the least I could do?"
"What do you mean by that?" he pounces, but I'm ready for him.
"If she hadn't lent me the hundred grand earlier, then I wouldn't have been in a position to finance the salon scheme," I continue.
"So you just did it as a quid pro quo?"
"Not entirely," I answer smoothly. "Just like anyone else who was looking for financing from me for a business scheme, she had to present a business plan. My second in command Ros handled the matter."
"Why was that?" he asks.
"Ros handles all deals of that nature," I say briskly. "That is her specialty. I am a businessman, not a philanthropist when it comes to start up companies. If the proposal was no good, it would have been rejected."
"Even though she was a good friend who had helped you out previously?" he persisted.
"Detective Clark," I reply. "Earlier this year, my sister came to me asking for funding for a catering company that she wanted to start up. She had no business plan and no idea of how to run such a company. She had assumed that because she had been to a cooking school in Paris and worked under a master chef that she was qualified to run a business. Needless to say, I turned her down. As I said, I am not particularly sentimental when it comes to financing start ups. I am interested in primarily in ROI."
"And the ROI on the Esclava salons has been good?" he asks.
"Very," I reply briefly, knowing that the big question is coming up.
"So why did you decide to part ways?" he asks.
I have considered this question already. The only person who knows the true answer is Ana. That was the advantage to being a silent partner. When I wanted to get out of the business I had to come up with a justification for the lawyers who handled things, being that I had no intention of telling them that it was because our previous affair had come to light.
"With the direction of the economy, I decided that I wanted to get out before the business began to lose money, being that it dealt with luxury and not necessity," I reply.
"Even though Mrs. Lincoln had helped you in the past," he comments.
"It's the way I do business," I say, somewhat coldly. "I have a problem with dead weight and I prefer to get out before I accrue any losses. I decided that it was time to cut and run."
"I see," he frowns. "Do you think that you made the right decision?"
"Only time will tell," I reply.
He looks at me closely, as if he is trying to read my expression. However, he has no reason to ask any further questions. I suspect that, being the tenacious investigator that he is, he was just tying up loose ends. From everything that I have heard, they are getting desperate. With a sigh, he stands and extends his hand.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Grey."
"Don't mention it," I say politely, and let him see himself out.
After he is gone, I take a deep breath and release it. It is obvious that he has no idea of the real relationship between Elena and myself. I know that he has spoken to Linc, who is definitely not eager to share that information either. He has a rock solid alibi and by the time I was done screwing over Lincoln Timber, he practically qualified for food stamps. He had nothing to contract a hit on Elena with and no motive.
I'm actually glad that I have gotten that bit of unpleasantness out of the way. Ana has been worried that I would be questioned and now she doesn't have to worry about it. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and we will be able to have a wonderful holiday together.