I should apologise for taking so long to update, but first allow me to explain.
A few months ago, a friend of mine was killed when she flipped her car on the highway. It was...a tough few weeks immediately following the accident, and to cope, I decided to write her into this chapter...just so I was /doing/ something other than crying and moping. I got about halfway through this chapter before I started second-guessing myself, and then it just started to hurt too much...
I didn't get the nerve up to continue it until tonight. Writing this still hurt. A lot. But I'm glad I did it, and don't regret it. And if she steals the spotlight at times, well so be it. This one's for her...and for me.
Thank you for your patience.
Sara, this one's for you. I'll see you in Heaven someday, but until then, you will be sorely and deeply missed. I love ya, girl. Don't stop singing.
The scent of good food hit Asbel's nostrils the moment he stepped into the restaurant. Guy's Grillhouse was not the most expensive restaurant in town, but it was…homey. On other occasions, Kerri enjoyed going out and dressing up, but on her birthday, she always proclaimed, a family atmosphere was best. Guy's had that in spades, and since Kerri enjoyed spending time with her family, it was the ideal setting for this gathering.
Ever since the death of Aston two years before, Asbel noticed that Kerri had begun valuing her family more than ever before. That was not to say that she had not before, but…well, loss tended to put some things into perspective.
That was a feeling Asbel was well acquainted with.
As usual, he and Sophie were the last to arrive. Sidling into the booth next to his mother, Asbel leaned over to kiss her cheek.
"Happy birthday, Mom."
"Thank you, Asbel. It's good to see you."
"Seven-o-one. Almost on time, Brother."
Asbel rolled his eyes. "You don't have a daughter to get ready."
"Sophie?" Hubert interjected, turning his gaze to the little girl.
Sophie nodded once. "Papa was late."
"There you have it. Sophie never lies."
"Traitor…" Asbel muttered, glaring playfully at his daughter.
Sophie wrinkled her nose. "Papa was lying."
Asbel rolled his eyes. "Stretching the truth."
"Lying."
Dramatically, Asbel clasped a hand to his chest. "Betrayed by my only, beloved daughter. What am I going to do?"
"Papa should stop lying."
The innocent statement was greeted with a round of laughter as the youngster looked on with wide eyes.
"Sophie, why don't you show grandma your gift for her?" Asbel asked once the merriment had died down.
Solemnly, the girl did as bidden, presenting a hand drawn card to Kerri. His mother accepted graciously, opening the card and, after reading it over, glancing up at Sophie with a loving smile. "Thank you, Sophie. I couldn't ask for a better gift." Inside the card was a drawing of a flower that Sophie had laboured over for nearly an hour. A long time, for a child Sophie's age. Asbel was proud of her.
At Kerri's words, Sophie beamed. "I worked hard, Gran'ma."
"I'm sure you did, Sophie."
"Heeey, y'know what you want, yet, or should I give you guys another minute?"
"Nah, I think we're good, Sara," Asbel quickly supplied. Guy's niece was a familiar face to all of them, and she was welcomed by a round of greeting from everyone at the table.
"The usual for me, thank you Sara," Hubert told her. Pascal sniggered softly. "Is there a problem?"
"Nah. Me'n'Asbel just took a bet as to whether or not you'd change it up. I won."
"I should know better than to bet against her," Asbel lamented.
"I'd think my son," a glance at Asbel, "and daughter-in-law," a glance at Pascal, "would respect me enough not to place bets on my birthday."
Abashed, Asbel glanced down at the table while Hubert chuckled softly.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with liking a dish," Sara interjected. "Not that everything we serve isn't awesome, but if Hubert wants to stick to one thing and never try anything else, who are we to judge?"
"Thank you, Sara," Hubert said stiffly. "Your support is overwhelming."
Another round of laughter filled the table, with even Kerri chuckling softly. Sophie, who didn't wholly understand the joke, simply watched with wide-eyes.
"Okay, seriously. Anyone here actually hungry, or should I tell my uncle to throw all you guys out?"
In between jokes and jibes, their orders did eventually get taken, and Sara trotted off to place their orders. While they waited for their food, Kerri was given the remainder of her presents. Sara dropped their drinks off partway through, but other than that there were no further interruptions.
"So, Pascal, are you and Hubert going to give me a grandchild sometime?" Kerri asked bluntly once the last present had been opened and set aside. For once, the young woman was clearly at a loss for words, her eyes widening slightly as her mouth opened wordlessly.
Hubert cleared his throat. "Mother, is this sort of conversation entirely appropriate?"
"Sophie would love some cousins…" Asbel supplied before his mother had a chance to respond. "Wouldn't you, Sophie?"
"Brother," Hubert said stiffly, cutting off a reply from the child. "Enough. You know that it isn't realistic right now."
Silence fell for a long moment, and then, "It's okay, Papa. I have Caeli." Leaning over, Asbel wrapped her in a hug. She did not understand, but that was okay. She was cute.
Eventually, their food was dropped off, and the conversation tapered off as they all tucked in. As they were finishing up, Hubert shoved his plate aside with a sigh. "Brother, about this morning…"
Asbel had known this would come up, and he dropped his fork with a sigh. "What about it?"
"You must realise after that, he is not the child you remember."
"Who isn't?" Kerri asked. "What are you boys talking about?"
"We encountered a suspect this morning, Mother. You need not concern yourself with it."
Kerri's expression hardened. "First of all, you do not tell me what I can concern myself with, Hubert. And secondly, what have I told you boys about discussing work at the table? Or on my birthday, for that matter. Leave it in the office tonight."
Abashed, the brothers fell silent. The silence was quickly broken, however, as Sara wandered back over and made herself comfortable perching on the edge of the booth next to Pascal.
"Shame on you, boys, disrupting your mother's birthday like that," the blonde teased, a bright smile on her face.
Hubert scoffed. "I hardly see how this is your business."
"It's not," Sara announced, shrugging. That did not wipe the grin off her face, however, and Hubert sighed.
"Do you not have a job to do?"
"It's slow, and you guys looked like you were about to start a war, so I said to myself, 'Sara, you'd better go stop them!' and here I am."
"I think you're exaggerating," Hubert said with a sigh. "It was hardly as bad as that."
"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I think we need to talk about dessert."
"I don't think—"
"You don't get a say, Ms. Kerri," Sara said, grinning. "Birthday girl gets a free brownie."
"Papa, I want dessert."
Asbel chuckled. "Well, you heard Sophie. I'm up for dessert myself."
"I could go for a slice of pie."
"Apple, with a dollop o' whipped cream an' a pinch'a'cinnamon."
"Pascal," Hubert muttered, pained.
"Prove me wrong, Hu."
A long moment of silence, and then Hubert sighed. "What my wife said."
Pascal sniggered in response.
The rest of their orders were taken quickly, and Sara hurried off to place them, then returned to clean off the table. As she was working, she grinned over a stack of dishes. "So, we got a Karaoke machine last month…"
Pascal's face lit up like a Christmas Tree. Across from Asbel, Hubert sighed. "Oh, no."
"I don't think…"
"Oh, no way Kerri. You gotta sing too."
"Papa, can I?"
Asbel smiled fondly down at his daughter, ruffling her hair. "Why don't you see if grandma would like to do a duet with you?"
"What's a duet?"
"Well, it's—"
"It's when you two sing together!" Pascal chimed in helpfully.
"Oh. Gran'ma, will you do a duet with me?"
"Aww, you can't say no to that face, gran'ma!"
Kerri sighed. "Yes, thank you Sara. As I was going to say," a warm smile, "I would love to."
Once the dishes were cleared away, Sara gave them a quick tutorial as to how the machine worked, then left them to it. As promised, Kerri and Sophie were up first, with a riveting performance of The Itsy Bitsy Spider. Asbel could not even hope to keep a stupid grin off his face.
Why the machine happened to have that song…well, he had no idea, but both his mother and daughter got fully into it, complete with hand gestures. After, they did an encore of Patty-Cake, Patty-Cake.
Pascal and Hubert were up next, and the only thing Asbel would be taking any bets on there was which one sang worse. He might have to give it to Pascal—though, to her…possible credit, he was pretty sure she was trying to bad. Possibly for Hubert's sake.
He would never know.
Sophie dragged him up next, and they did a song together, before Asbel found himself abandoned. In the end, he opted for White Wishes, an old favourite of Cheria's. Silence fell over the group as he sang, and there was no denying the way his mother wiped her eyes when he was finished.
He had barely set the microphone aside when Sara jumped up, snatching it in one hand while laughing energetically. "My turn," she announced with a wink, before launching into an enthusiastic performance of Happy Birthday that the rest of them quickly joined in on.
"Okay, now for my present to you, Kerri," the blonde announced as the song wound down. Sara selected her next song and went to it with a will.
There was always something pleasing about listening to Sara sing, she did so with such energy and passion. As the last notes died out, she dipped a mock bow, grinning. "Thank you, thank you. I'll remember you all when I'm famous."
She looked up with a wink. "Now get outta my store. We're closing."
"Of course, Sara. Thank you for the wonderful evening," Kerri said, drawing the girl into a hug. The rest of them echoed the sentiment, and then they were parting, heading their separate ways.
"Papa?" a sleepy Sophie asked as he settled her into her car seat.
"Hm? What is it, Sophie?"
"When is my birthday?"
He chuckled, shutting the door and climbing into the driver's seat. "Not for a few months, Sophie."
"Oh." Silence. "Will Mama be there?"
Asbel's breath caught. "Sophie…"
"I'm…sorry, Papa."
He sighed. "It's okay, Sophie." She still did not fully understand why she did not have a mother.
The rest of the trip home passed in silence, Sophie dozing off less than halfway there. Carrying her inside, Asbel tucked her into bed before heading for his office to peruse his files. Having slept a good portion of the afternoon away, he had a lot to catch up on before he got any rest.
It was late into the night when Asbel finally threw the folder aside, a dull headache throbbing behind his eyes as he leaned over the desk, elbows resting on the surface and face buried in his hands. Despite his ideologies, his beliefs, Asbel could see the evidence for what it was as clearly as anyone else.
For years, the Windor family had run this city from behind the scenes. Wealth, power, connections…they had it all. The money to bribe out corrupt officers, the power to threaten those they could not buy out, and the…assistance to actually enforce those threats.
Cedric Windor had been a plague on the city, all but running its underground single-handedly, and powerful enough to keep the police at bay; nobody challenged him if they liked their head where it was. After his death, however, things had…changed. Richard had taken over, and the young man had not possessed the murderous streak of his uncle.
Or, that was Asbel's opinion on the situation, anyway. The family had lost some…respect within the underground circles, and thus was losing influence. Oh, they were still very much a source of power, but it was not like it had been. Officers investigating the family did not disappear with quite the same frequency.
It was because of that the Asbel was convinced Richard was more a puppet, a figurehead, than the perpetrator.
There was…one other detail that could not be ignored, however. For the past twelve years, bodies had been turning. Some, John and Jane Does with no noticeable connection to the case at hand, others, people who blatantly defied the Windors, and still others whose connection to the family seemed unlikely, but not impossible. They all shared one detail, however, and after over a decade, the MO could hardly be ignored: They were all shot in the back of the head while kneeling, facing away from their killer.
Asbel did not like to think about what that meant, but there was absolutely no denying that one detail. It not only indicated that the killer was likely the same person for all the murders, it was also the same way Richard's father had been killed.
Asbel was certain that someone was framing Richard. Nobody could be that stupid, to basically paint a flag on oneself saying 'here, I am the killer'. It was just too easy. If only Hubert agreed. Asbel would keep believing in him, however, even if nobody else did.
His head dipped lower as he turned the evidence over in his mind, eyes drifting closed as he nodded off. This was too much to think about now…
Asbel jerked back to full wakefulness, his head shooting up and smacking his desk light, when his phone rang. Rubbing the back of his head, he fumbled for his phone, unlocking it clumsily.
"Hello?" he said behind a stifled yawn.
Brother, you have to see this. I'll text you the location.
The dial tone met his ear a moment later, and Asbel pulled his phone away from his ear, blinking at it sleepily. It lit up a moment later, Hubert's text message flashing on the screen.
Another sleepless night, then.
He arrived at the scene barely twenty minutes later. The moment he entered the room, Asbel nearly gagged, the scent of blood overpowering. Holding a hand to his nose, he grimaced as he surveyed the room. It was sparsely furnished; a threadbare chair, an old, moth-eaten rug, and a television stand with nothing on it. That was hardly the highlight of the room, however.
"Shot in the back of the head?" Asbel asked tiredly, to which Hubert nodded.
"But that's not all."
Asbel snorted. "I noticed."
The crime scene was the worst one Asbel had ever personally been on. A massive pool of blood covered the floor, with more painting the walls and furniture. The body hung, pale and lifeless, from the room's light fixture.
"Cause of death was the gunshot?" Asbel asked.
"We're assuming so, but forensics is taking a look anyway. Given this scene…exsanguination cannot be ruled out."
"What did all this?" Asbel asked, approaching the body. On closer inspection, lacerations covered the body, the most noticeable of those being on the victim's bare feet. Congealed blood covered the bottom, and Asbel leaned in for a closer look.
"Was she…?"
"Totally exsanguinated? Again, forensics needs to take a look, but it looks that way."
"Whoever did this was angry."
"I just hope she was dead before this as done."
"Judgin' by the way she's hangin', I'd say probably. The perp used gravity t'get the blood out, since the heart had stopped."
Glancing over as Pascal, Asbel nodded. "That's what I was thinking."
"There's something else you need to see, Asbel," Hubert said, waving him away from the body. Steeling himself, Asbel followed with trepidation.
"What's this?" he asked as they stopped in front of the bloodstained back wall. Now that he was taking a closer look, he realised the stains seemed to form an image; they weren't simple spatter.
Pascal followed them over, shaking her head. "It's Greek."
"A letter?"
"Lambda."