PART ONE

Chapter Twelve

Demetri Yuryevich Karlov's condo was located along the eastern edge of the Gold Coast, a neighborhood situated just north of downtown Chicago littered with luxury apartment buildings and historic mansions lining up along the lakeshore. The neighborhood featured some of the most exclusive designer boutiques, restaurants, and everything else outside of Leah's price range.

"Now, this is a nice place," Jacob remarked as he stepped inside the now-unoccupied abode. The condo, which was currently not up for sale, consisted of three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large open kitchen with stainless steel appliances and marble countertops, and, of course, a stunning view of Lake Michigan. "Real impressive, don't you think?"

"Can't be one of the top guys within an infamous coven and live in squalor," Leah said, following Jacob through the foyer, only to split from him when they entered the common area. The apartment was spotless from top to bottom with no furniture in sight. According to the condo president, Demetri's had been a ghost town since mid-February.

"Good point," Jacob replied good-naturally. He pulled a file folder from his arm and opened it, revealing a stack of crime scene photos taken the day Demetri was found. "Alright, let's do this."

Regarding the investigation into the demise of Demetri: the case didn't technically belong to anyone since the man's death had officially been ruled as a suicide. Rules as a suicide, yet Demetri's still in Bella's custody – It wasn't a secret why the medical examiner insisted on keeping Demetri's unclaimed body, and that was exactly why the detectives were currently inside Demetri's apartment.

The case wasn't the detectives, but in the way, it was.

"Managed to pick up anything?" Leah asked, approaching the door leading to the condo's balcony. She took a moment to take in the sight of the lake glistening under the bright sun. Seconds passed before she turned back around. "With your nose?"

"Very funny."

Leah legitimately wasn't trying to be. "No, I mean, that's pretty amazing." She retrieved her own photos of the crime scene. "I know we can't use your amazing sense of smell as evidence in court, but it's amazing. Great for leads."

Jacob looked to his partner, expression unreadable, then his face broke into a wide grin. "Not Lysol," he announced proudly. "No ammonia. No bleach."

Leah blinked. "Hunh?"

"None of those," Jacob clarified. "I'm picking up vinegar, though… is that normal?"

"Mix that with some water, and you have a pretty cleaning product, especially when working with stainless steel."

Jacob deeply breathed in the stale air. "Someone's recently been here."

Leah tried to subdue a smile, only being somewhat successful. See, folks? That nose. Very useful. Not a joke, at all. Though she wanted to make a light-hearted joke, that was until she realized what Jacob had just revealed. "How long ago?" Mid-February wasn't recently. "Do you think?"

Jacob mused for a moment. "Last week?" he figured. "No one I recognize, though." He then asked, rather abruptly if anyone had claimed Demetri's body.

As of this morning? No.

"That's a bit odd, ain't it? Demetri wasn't some low-level henchmen. He was one of the big-shots with a rank right below the bosses. He had his own crew, and… nothing. No one claimed him. No hit placed on his killer…"

"Maybe they thought it was suicide as well?" Leah shrugged when Jacob gave her a skeptical look. "Just keeping an open mind. The covens, they like to handle their business on their terms, right? Maybe they are making moves, and we simply don't know about it."

"It's too quiet."

"Unless it was an inside job," Leah offered. "Though to be honest, if I wanted things to stay quiet, I would've done something with the body before the cops showed up."

"My thoughts exactly," and with that, Jacob took his photos and surveyed the common area, eventually stopping in the center of the room. He checked the pictures in his hands. "Here," he declared, pointing at the floor below him, "It was here."

According to the police report, Demetri's corpse was found lying face-flat against the cherry-wooden floor, dressed in a robe with his monogram and silk black boxers. Next Demetri was a gun, a Sig Saucer 9mm, covered with his fingerprints. Only his fingerprints.

At first glance, the whole incident pointed to suicide: the man seemingly had put a bullet right through his right temple. A UV. Suicide. Simple as that. However, there was a problem: Demetri had been a member of the Volturi and likely Jessica's killer. There was nothing simple about Demetri's demise.

Leah soon reached the other detective's side. There were no obvious markings on the hardwood floor; save a thin layer of dust, it was clean. She then looked straight ahead, tilting her head as she studied the white wall. "A couch," she remarked, pointing at a horizontal scrape mark. The brown, long, thin mark was faint, but Leah figured the stain was residue from a couch with wood trimmings.

Strangely enough, there was no sign of a place to sit in the crime scene photos. A living room without a place to sit? Leah wondered if the furniture had been moved before the police's arrival.

"He was facing the couch."

Jacob took a step back, to where Demetri likely had stood. He then lifted his arm, and with a gun sign, aimed his index finger at his right temple. He adjusted his hand, according to the angle referenced in the ballistics report.

"Boom." Jacob dropped to the floor, assuming Demetri's final position. Seconds later, he stood up on his knees with a quizzical expression on his face. "That gun placement's odd."

"So, is the angle," Leah said, skimming the ballistics report. The angle shown was awkward. Too high, too sharp. From what Leah knew, if one were to put the mouth of the barrel against their temple with all intentions of pulling the trigger, the angle should be more horizontal or a little bit down. They wouldn't hold their arm up with their elbows pointed upward – it was unnatural.

"If I'm seeing this image correctly," Leah continued, referring to the picture plastered in the middle of the report in her hands, "there's almost no way he could've done this himself. The gun was aimed from high above."

She then looked to Jacob, who was still kneeling on the ground, arms tightly crossed; the look on his face was pensive, likely thinking the same thing Leah was.

Leah set aside the crime photos and report and moved towards her partner. "Stay still," she quietly demanded, moving behind the man as he was about to rise to his feet. Jacob obeyed without question. "He was kneeling," she deduced. "Just like this."

"Demetri?"

"Hm. With someone standing behind him." Leah placed a hand on Jacob's left shoulder; she lightly pressed down. "Demetri's position would've been a bit lower than yours with you having a good several inches on him." She slowly dragged her hand back, feeling the muscle twitch under her fingertips. "They were both facing the couch. Or a large chair."

Jacob's eyes snapped up, briefly meeting Leah's. He cleared his throat, then turned his attention to the wall before him. "So, there was more than one person," he concluded. "The killer stood behind him, and there was someone right there. The one running the show."

Leah tapped Jacob's shoulder a couple of times, indicating that he could now stand. "Perhaps, sitting in the chair?" she offered. "Based on the way the bullet entered, Demetri must've been looking straight ahead. If the boss were standing, Demetri would've been looking up, head titled, giving him his undivided attention – Unless, of course, the boss was on the shorter side."

"How was ruled this as a suicide?"

Politics, that was how.

"Got a gift got you," Jacob announced the following morning as he approached his and Leah's workspace, sporting a wide grin and waving a large envelope. "It smells like progress." He dropped the envelope in front of his curious partner. "Got a good feeling that we're about to get lucky."

"Optimism so early in the morning?" Leah set aside her cup of coffee and picked up the piece of mail, lightly shaking it. A pack of papers, she surmised before checking the return address: it was from a phone company, likely a response to a subpoena. "Did you check it out?"

Jacob flopped into his chair. "Wanted you to do the honors, so surprise me." He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm telling you. I got a good feeling."

Leah sliced through the edge of the envelope with a letter opener. One peek and her mood immediately brightened. Holy, Jacob isn't kidding. In her hands were transcripts of text messages extracted from Jessica's cell phone. Months-worth of text messages.

"Well, I'll be," Leah breathed as she quickly scanned the first page, stopping at the bottom. "From Jessica to a masked number." Something about this particular text caught her attention. "Feeling like the Tit girl," Leah read, "but this time, I ain't throwing it in the ocean. Thx babe. XOXO."

She looked over at Jacob. "Tit girl?"

Jacob lifted an eyebrow. "Tit girl," he repeated. He blinked a couple of times, then snapped his fingers "Tit girl. Tit? Oh, maybe as in tight," and when Leah sent him a look of bewilderment, "She's talking about a gift, right? Wait, Titanic?"

Leah tilted her head.

"Remember when we first talked to Laure, when she told us about that necklace? She compared it to the Heart of the Ocean from Titanic. Tit girl – she's talking about the lady from Titanic. Rose. She threw the necklace into the ocean at the end of the movie."

Leah re-read the message.

"You can't be serious."

"I never understand why she would do something like that," Jacob said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Do you know how much that necklace costs? I know it's only a movie, but…."

"It was symbolic," Leah reminded him, and then with a laugh, "You've seen that movie a thousand times, and yet you haven't figured that out?" She read the message for the third time. "She was talking about that necklace, then?"

"When was the text sent?"

"January 2nd."

"Wasn't it reported as missing around New Year's?" Jacob leaned forward. "Did she thank anyone for the gift?"

Leah moved to the next page of the transcript. "It appears she purposely chose not to name-drop," she said. "Look at this. From January 7th." She stopped to roll her eyes; of course, it was masked. "From masked number: How much light? From Jessica: To make a sun." She looked up. "Light?"

"UVs?"

Leah gave a nod before returning to the transcripts. "The Saturday before her death…" She cleared her throat. "Jessica: Heading out to the bitch's warehouse to check out the sun."

"So, she wasn't Victoria's biggest fan, though not many people are," Jacob said. "She must be referring to the night Riley had seen her with Demetri." He frowned. "Wonder why she didn't use a burner? She must've known that these texts were discoverable."

Leah lifted a shoulder. "She only had one burner, and it was confiscated from her apartment – This right here was from her personal phone." She set the transcripts aside. "So, she was likely not on the Volturi's payroll after all," she concluded. "All her trysts with Demetri were off the books... which explains a lot."

"That's why the Volturi isn't making any noise about Jessica. I mean, if Jessica were an associate of theirs, they would do everything in their power to cover it up, and as of right now, there is no evidence of a cover-up."

For the record, the detectives did not forget about Edward Anthony Masen also known as 'Eddie Cullen.'

Both Leah and Jacob understood that he was a concern; Paul understood that he was a concern. Morris, despite his pushbacks, understood as well. But for right now, dealing with Edward Anthony Masen had to be put on hold.

Thanks to the Deal.

Assistant State Attorney Jason Jenks, the poor soul who was in charge of prosecuting Violent Crimes cases (and Unit Five's, come to find out), knew about Anthony Masen and the goddamn Deal. He promised the detectives he was working on it, working on getting that man in handcuffs without certain members of the brass (within CPD and the State Attorney's Office) pitching a massive fit.

On the plus side, according to Bella and Officer Call, who was now unofficially her bodyguard during work hours for the foreseeable future, there had been no more visits from Edward Anthony Masen.

One would think that meant that the Cullen associate realized that he would never get what he wanted. None of the detectives thought that; they figured he was simply waiting for the most opportunistic time to make another appearance and offer.

Masen might remain simmering on the back burner, but he would not be forgotten.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"Lead the way, milady."

Leah rolled her eyes at Riley Biers' exaggerated politeness as she hopped off the barstool. She grabbed the brown bag from under the stool before walking past the vampire, leading him through the unsuspecting crowd of rowdy, mostly drunk patrons that filled the Bucktown bar. It was Thursday Night, Thirsty Thursday, which meant drinks were half-off, and goodness did people take advantage of the discount.

The pair was now outside the establishment and with the tilt of her head, Leah led the informant into the nearest alleyway. It was compacted, barely lit, but away from the raucous, making it an ideal location.

Jacob wasn't with her, but Leah wasn't too concerned. She didn't expect to be here for too long, and, weirdly, not having Jacob around here was a net positive. Riley was still sour on the man (the feeling was mutual), and he preferred to interact with Leah – Jacob wasn't offended.

And Leah? She was still rather bewildered by the entire situation. One would think Riley wouldn't want anything to do with her since she was the reason, after all, why Riley still walked with a slight limp.

"It wasn't personal," Riley muttered around the unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He was dressed in all black with Doc Martens and a leather jacket; all too casual to be working for Victoria that night. "I would've done the same." He pulled out a lighter. He was relaxed and didn't look like he was in a rush. "Worse, most likely."

Leah watched the vampire as he cooly lit up the tobacco. There was something peculiar about seeing a vampire smoke. She knew vampires did not like the light, and she figured Riley would've recoiled due to his proximity to the flame. But then again, she supposed, he wasn't standing in front of a raging inferno.

"Yeah, well, you're not a cop."

Leah shoved her free hand deeper into her pocket; it was oddly freezing outside given that April was around the corner. Unfortunately, it seemed she was the only one affected by the cool air, judging by the attire of stragglers and passersby. The downside of always running cold. She considered taking the conversation to her car but quickly tabled the idea.

The alleyway would do just fine.

"We have to follow rules."

Riley scoffed at that. "And we don't?" He retreated until his back hit the brick wall. "Oh, come on, everyone breaks the rules. Even you guys, given that you're pigs." He took a long drag, then let out a dry cough. "Nothing personal."

"And I think you're a crook," Leah returned. "Nothing personal." Her attention fell onto the bag she was holding with her right hand. She handed it over to the vampire before shoving her now-free hand into her other pocket. "For your cooperation."

Riley glanced down at the bottle, then up at Leah. He frowned. "Is this what I think it is?" The detective gave a silent confirmation, which made him frown even more. "Ain't this illegal?"

Leah lifted both shoulders. "Who knows what's legal or illegal anymore?" She sounded like a jaded old-timer; she might become one by the end of this investigation. "It didn't come from humans. That's all you need to know."

Riley dropped the barely used cigarette to the ground, crushing it under the toe of his boot. He then popped open the bottle with his fangs – they were stronger than Leah thought – and deeply inhaled. He didn't look impressed, but it was, "Better than nothing."

"You're welcome," Leah replied, deadpanned.

Riley looked at Leah and then back at the bottle, emitting a light chuckle. "Thank you." He leaned his head back against the brick wall. "Carlisle."

Leah raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"Your girl was his girl on the side." Riley stood up straight, rolling his shoulders. "Or scortina, as they call it."

"How do you know?"

Riley's eyebrows snapped together. "I'm surprised you didn't."

"I knew she was likely messing around with Demetri, and possibly someone within the Olympic, but never got a name."

"Well," Riley said with a shrug, "there you go. A name." He took a swig from the bottle of blood. He smacked his lips a couple of times, then scrunched up his nose. "Not the best."

Leah had to roll her eyes. Sorry, Riley, she couldn't get a hold of a liter of human blood. "Better than nothing, right?" then onto more pressing matters, "Carlisle Cullen, as in the head of the Olympic?"

Riley confirmed with a nod. "But I wouldn't say that he's the head of the Olympic. He leads the Cullen Family and Tanya leads the Denalis. They're partners, I guess? Equals."

Leah took a step closer to the vampire. "How do you know?" she asked again.

"I know a guy who works for Wallace," as in the notorious Alistair Wallace, "who claims that he saw Carlisle's name on the list. Supposedly, the man only had eyes for your girl. They've been fooling around for about a year. Here." Riley pulled out of his phone and pressed the screen a few times before presenting it to Leah. "A pic he sent to me."

Leah took one look. She drew in a breath. Well, then. "I'll be damned," she said. "Who's this friend of yours?"

"Wouldn't say a friend," Riley said, running his free hand through his short brown hair, "but wouldn't say an enemy. Not trying to get him killed."

"Fair enough."

"He knows his shit, though. There's more – "

"Wait, stop." Leah pulled out her phone. "Do you mind if I take a pic?"

Riley lifted a shoulder. "Go right ahead," then, "You want me to send it to you?"

Leah shook her head. "Don't wanna leave a trail." She quickly took a screenshot. "Thanks." She pocketed her phone and shoved her hands right back into her warm pockets. "So, a year, hunh?"

"I guess it was serious."

"Can't be too serious if she were still a scortina."

"Nah, I think that has more to with her being human."

"So, her relationship with Carlisle was an open secret?" Leah wondered. "Did Demetri and Carlisle know about each other?" Of course, they knew of each other. "About sharing the same woman?"

Riley shrugged. "Unless she was really good at concealing her scent, I'm sure they knew something was up."

Leah blinked, then dropped her head to the side. "Huh."

"Huh," was also Jacob's response upon hearing the news of his partner's meetup with their newest C.I. "Well, we always knew that Jessica liked the fast life, didn't we?" He shook his head. "Carlisle and Demetri?"

Leah stirred a packet of sugar into her coffee; it was quite lukewarm, but it would have to do for now; she was far too lazy to leave her desk to go the breakroom. "Allegedly," she quietly said, giving Jacob a pointed look as she brought the rim of the Styrofoam cup to her lips.

"Allegedly," Jacob repeated. "Though this photo doesn't leave us with much doubt." He pointed at the printout of the very picture Leah had taken from Riley's phone the night before. "You do understand that Alistair's not gonna tell us a thing about his client list."

Leah figured as much. Sure, there were legal means the detectives could use to get Alistair to fess up, but Leah figured it wasn't worth the hassle. At least, not at this time.

"In a way, he already had," Leah said, setting her cup down; she gave Jacob a slight smirk. "He already confirmed that Jessica worked for him, didn't he? And everyone knows he's conducted business Olympic for years, so I think we can safely assume that he… knew of the arrangement."

"True."

"Another suspect?"

Jacob shrugged. "Perhaps, but…" He shook his head again. "Carlisle's no fool. You can't be a coven head and survive in this world for centuries, especially theirs, by being an idiot."

"Women make men dumb all the time," Leah countered in a matter-of-fact manner that made Jacob chuckle. Well, it was the truth; she knew from experience. "We have reason to believe that Demetri and Carlisle likely knew of each other."

Jacob shook his head. "Yeah, but… Demetri delivered the bite, yes? Bella confirmed that as much. So, unless Carlisle and Demetri were in cahoots, which I highly doubt given their respective covens' history, then how would they both be involved?"

Jacob might have a point, but Leah countered with, "Things can change when you've been scorned. Carlisle might not be a fool, but I'm sure he couldn't have been too happy when he found out that another man, let alone from a rival coven, was sleeping with his…" She cleared her throat. "Scortina."

That name would forever make Leah cringe.

"What would be Demetri's motive, then?" Jacob asked, resulting in a shrug from his partner. "Damn."

"Maybe, he didn't care?" Leah provided, speaking of Carlisle, or both men. "Maybe he thought he could use the arrangement to his advantage? After all, a lot of secrets can be spilled during pillow talk."

"So, he was pimping her out?"

"I'd say it was more of 'turning of the other cheek because it may all work out in the end' kind of thing."

"Ah, but Carlisle and Jessica?" Jacob wrinkled his nose, utterly repulsed by the idea. "The man's been married since forever."

"As if that means anything," Leah could not help but grumble, however, she did put on a brave face when Jacob looked her way; he could clearly see right through her. Leah took in a bit of her coffee. "Hey, what about the wife?"

"Esme?"

Leah nodded. Esme Cullen was a housewife and occasional socialite, who knew how to stay out of the negative limelight. She was known for appearing at societal functions, volunteering at charity auctions by doing appraisals for priceless art, and maintaining an extravagant garden up in Winnetka.

"Her name hasn't come up in anything." That was to no one's surprise. As far as Leah knew, Mrs. Cullen wasn't on anyone's radar. Not even Paul's. "Not to say that we should ignore her."

"Of course, not."

Leah pinched herself a few times as she and Jacob listened to Mike Newton sputter around their questions, particularly concerning Jessica and Carlisle. It was obvious that designating Riley Biers as an informant was truly a blessing from the criminal investigation gods.

She simply couldn't believe her luck.

"Fine," Mike relented with a grumble. He rubbed his hands together, then slumped in his seat. "Fine, I knew Jessica. Knew of her. Saw her a few times. Nothing special. Every time she came around, she followed Carlisle around like she was some groupie."

The detectives exchanged a barely veiled smirk before Jacob asked, "You didn't think to provide this information earlier?"

Mike let out a dry cough. "I didn't think it was pertinent." That was complete bullshit, and everyone knew it. "Look…" Another dry cough. "Honestly, it slipped my mind. Honest. I was always under the impression that the Volturi did Jessica in, not the Olympic."

Leah tilted her head. "We never said anything about the Olympic being involved."

Mike took a deep breath. "You wanna know about Jessica and Carlisle?" A rhetorical question. "Here it goes: Yeah, she stopped by a few times. Had no business being here, always seemed out of place. Overwhelmed and in awe of everything." He folded his hands. "Last Christmas, the Cullens and Denalis hosted a party here. I overheard one of the Cullen boys – Emmett, the loud one – talking about Jessica and how she needed to stay in her place."

While Leah made note of all the information that just came from the businessman's mouth, Jacob asked, "In Carlisle's presence?"

"Oh no, the man's a meathead, but he ain't that stupid," Mike said. "Carlisle reserved the VIP section upstairs; she was with him. Everyone saw them. The other Cullen – Eddie, the pretty boy – started complaining about how Jessica was disrupting the equilibrium, and even after respectfully expressing his concerns to the boss, Carlisle refused to let her go."

The detectives changed a quick look before Jacob asked, "Was it love?"

Mike's sharp cackle was expected. "I doubt she was around for emotional stimulation." He rolled his eyes. "You'd think he'd be more discreet with – "

"What about Mrs. Cullen?" Leah interjected. "Did she know about her husband's liaisons?"

"Maybe?" Mike replied with a tense shrug. He was becoming increasingly nervous, Leah observed, but not necessarily because of his involvement. He didn't want to talk about Esme. "She knew about the others."

Jacob leaned against the back of his chair. "The others?"

Mike glanced between Leah and Jacob, then abruptly sat up in his seat and loosened his tie. "Wait, do you think she had something to with the Dahlia's death?"

It wasn't outside the realm of possibility. Leah knew from experience how angry one could get upon learning of their spouse's dalliances. "Jilted wife targeting her husband's lover?" Leah said. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Jacob agreed, but Mike insisted, "She wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Sure, but that doesn't mean she couldn't have asked someone else to do the dirty work for her," Leah pointed out. "I mean, she's been the matriarch for years, right? She must wield some level of influence."

"She knew what she was getting herself into," Mike said, still not convinced. "She seemed fine with it before."

"Seemed. Sometimes we have to adapt to survive or put on an appearance that everything's fine. That we should bottle everything and walk around with a smile on our faces. Be happy that we simply have a ring on our finger," Leah explained, leaning forward; she ignored Jacob's sharp gaze. "But eventually, we realize we can no longer brush it off, endure it anymore. Eventually, we snap."

"You think Esme had something to do with the Dahlia murder?"

"Maybe?" Leah said to Jacob. "Maybe not? But I'm sure she's not losing sleep over the demise of her husband's mistress."

Leah knew she wouldn't.

"You're now naming Esme Cullen as a potential suspect in the Dahlia case?" Paul inquired sometime later, sounding surprised by the newest update. The captain must've held the Cullen matriarch in the same regard as Mike. As most people. "As in Carlisle Cullen's wife? When did she enter the picture?"

"Well, captain, you know what they say," Jacob said to Paul, somewhat cheekily, "no hath fury like a woman scorned." The saying was dreadfully clichéd, but it truly did say it all. "Jessica was sleeping with her husband."

"And she was also having an affair with Demetri," Paul said, making sure he got the story straight. "Going to school, working part-time, jet-setting everywhere while having affairs with members of rival covens…" He shook his head. "She was one busy gal."

He forgot to add Jessica's possible participation in a UV arms deal.

"It's essentially an episode of Jerry Springer." Leah would know; tragic love life aside, the trashy talk show was one of her guilty pleasures. "Except there are vampires, the mob, and a dead girl," she paused, "whose primary suspect was also found murdered…"

Paul let out a sarcastic woot, "Because, why not?" and then, "Murder? I could've sworn Demetri's death was ruled as a suicide." He took one look at each detective; they all knew it was bullshit. "Yes, of course, that's what they said."

"That's what they said," Jacob reiterated flatly. "We don't have much information about the status of the Cullen's marriage. Hey, for all we know, they may have agreed to an open relationship – "

"Then why would Esme be mad, then?" Paul asked. "If marriage is an open one?"

"I'd imagine she'd be a little peeved if lines were crossed," Leah reasoned; she couldn't help but think of her marriage. Not that she would ever think about doing anything close to what had happened to Jessica (gun incident, notwithstanding), but she got it.

"Jessica probably didn't stay in her place," Jacob provided. "Whatever, that was."

"Even if there's an open marriage," Leah added, "people usually draw the line when it comes to PDA. Some would ignore it or choose to forget about the other person, but they have to hide in the shadows. As Jacob alluded to: know their place. From what we've been told, Jessica wasn't exactly operating like she did. Or cared."

"So, she didn't follow the side-chick playbook."

Leah shrugged, not knowing how else to respond.

"Mrs. Cullen probably felt disrespected," Jacob said. "After all, she's the matriarch of that family; has been that way for decades. She wasn't going to let some college girl upstage her and get away with it."

"I doubt Carlisle had any intentions of leaving Esme for Jessica," Paul said. "Highly doubt it."

"But that's not the point," Leah argued. "Look, don't get me wrong: I'm not saying that Jessica deserved her fate; what happened to her was disgusting, but…" She paused to gather her words. "Mrs. Cullen couldn't possibly have her husband killed without causing an uproar, so she might've gone after the next best thing."