This short chapter is only to explain the Prescott/Williams angle and put it to rest.
It's mainly CTG's thoughts and why there's swearing every other word.
Out of the show don't tell, rule, this is definitely a tell.
Chapter Eighteen
~Christian~
Machiavelli wrote, "The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him."
Right now, I feel like he wrote that just for me.
How intelligent can I be, if all of my security personnel didn't catch this? How did this fly so far under our radar that Welch didn't catch it? It did though, and Taylor didn't find it when he did his own background check on Prescott – his more extensive that Welch's.
I spend millions of dollars on security. I expect the best of the best. I've always had the best of the best. Yet, this, all of this, got by every fucking one of them.
If I wasn't living this clusterfuck, I would say that it couldn't be real, that it would have to be a work of fiction. It would be bestselling crime fiction. It isn't. It's raw and disgusting reality and I want to hurt someone. Badly.
I'm in some fucking room, leaning over a cheap wooden table. My arms are gripping its edge, and support my body weight. It's flimsy. I've punched it, repeatedly, as the afternoon faded into night.
Time slowed as I called Anastasia's cell phone over and over this morning. It was creeping each time anyone of us tried to call the suite's phone and it was off the hook. We didn't dare call management to go to up to the suite and knock on the fucking door. Oh, no, it's our policy to handle our own shit and keep outsider's where they belong: outside.
But time stopped when Reynolds called Taylor from inside the Grand Suite at The Heathman Hotel. The Grand Suite, that's now a crime scene of epic proportions.
One dreary February day flushed out treachery beyond reason. Each shocking revelation is rocking the world around me. There were secrets that have even disturbed my highly trained security detail. I wouldn't blame any of them if they're second guessing one another. I'm second fucking guessing everyone that I know.
I'm not alone in the room. Taylor, and some members of his security team are present. Dad's here, along with a Portland lawyer he knows, Cole Staunton. Since Dad can't practice law in the state of Oregon, he called this Staunton man to be present when the police questioned Anastasia – not that they've been able to. It will probably be a couple of days before they can. Ana is still out from all of the pain medication and sedation she had to be given so the doctors could treat her hand.
I'm out of my mind that all of these medications are going to hurt the baby, but the doctor's keep reminding me they know how to do their jobs. I guess that's a nice way of telling someone to back the fuck off.
The cops aren't hiding the fact that they don't like having to wait for Anastasia to be capable of having a mother fucking coherent conversation. It's bullshit. My phone is blowing up with calls and texts from Kate. Elliot's in Seattle to make sure she doesn't jump in her car and drive down here. He's also doing his best to keep all of the exasperating females in our family calm. I let Ray deal with Carla. If the fucking photographer, who lives here, walks in the door, I'll lose my mind.
I wish Mom could be here to make sure Ana's receiving proper care, but Mia and Kate's hysterics would send me over the edge. Right now, I'm just close to the edge, and it's in everyone's best interest not to topple me over it.
Once news that an army of police and paramedics stormed Portland's elite hotel, journalists came running out in droves. So far, the police haven't released a statement, or the names of those involved, but they're getting impatient. So far, our pleas to keep a temporary lid on this fucking disaster are working. Law enforcement up in Seattle are also being a pain about Leila Williams.
Ray arrived early this evening, and was questioned about giving the gun Ana used to kill Leila with. Now, he's at her bedside while me and my father deal with the mess around us.
I've always liked Ray Steele. I've always admired his silent strength. If you know Ray, you know it's best not get on his bad side. But, right now, I want to wrap my hands around his throat and choke him until his face is blue. He gave Anastasia a gun. He fucking gave her a gun, a loaded mother fucking gun, and a box of ammo. When he was being questioned, he revealed how he'd managed to tell Anastasia about the gun, and I wanted to throw him out of a window.
When he told the cops he'd written her a note with details about the gun, and then handed said note to the man who runs my security, I nearly lunged at him.
He had the nerve to give Taylor the note, and ask that it be given to his daughter. So, the fucking man who runs everything that protects my family, and I pay millions to, unknowingly handed Anastasia information about a hidden gun in my home. And the fucking note was explaining that she needed one in order to protect herself. He obviously didn't, and probably still doesn't, trust my security. I've got to hand it to Ray, the man honestly doesn't give a fuck.
He didn't look contrite telling the story. He didn't appear regretful. It didn't bother him that he'd hidden a fucking loaded gun in my apartment, and then told his impetuous daughter about it. Seriously, what the fuck?
Not long after I met her, Anastasia told me that she could shoot a gun. I knew that she had a permit to carry one, but I imagined her shooting fucking targets, or maybe a fucking squirrel. I never thought she could expertly land two rounds into someone's femoral fucking artery and drop them on the spot.
Thank fucking God the gun is registered in Anastasia's name. I still want to kill Ray, though. I know that Taylor wants to kill him. My dad is just shocked as hell. Ray isn't apologizing. I know that he's pissed at Ana over what she did, but I also believe he's proud of her for doing it. No, Ray hadn't intended to spur his daughter into going rogue on all of us. He just wanted her to fucking carry a mother fucking gun in order to protect herself, because he claims that her CPOs could be taken out. Well, he got most of that theory right.
Ryan wants to kill Ray, too. Ryan isn't in any trouble, because he isn't at fault. When we first heard from him that my girlfriend had pulled one over on him, I was ready to kill, then fire him. However, Ana got out of the penthouse due to technical failure, not because she's Wonder Woman. The CCTVs in the apartment had a momentary glitch in them, and Ryan was getting them back online. It was the elevator's alarm going off that let him know something was wrong. He barely missed catching Ana. Ryan was in the garage and watched as the R8 pulled out. I've given him the green light to give Wonder Woman an earful if he wants. Maybe she'll listen to him. God fucking knows she won't listen to me.
What do I think about all of this? How do I feel? I don't know how to feel about anything, because everything else is unbelievable. No one can wrap their minds around any of this. When I called Elliot and told him about what was going on right under our noses, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. Then he had to revert to being a fucking irritating wanna be comic by calling Anastasia "Annie Oakley." I hope she likes that moniker, because he'll be calling her that for the rest of her life.
Annie fucking Oakley.
Anastasia drifted in and out of consciousness after Reynolds and Parson found her and waited for help to arrive. Reynolds tried to keep her awake, while he did his best to apply pressure to her hand. Parson swept the suite, doing his best to not contaminate the scene.
Two dead bodies were found. Prescott, stabbed to death, in the main room, and Leila, shot to death, in the master suite.
Just a regular fucking day at the shitty ass Heathman.
But both guys immediately thought something was wrong; how did Leila get past Prescott? Where was Prescott's gun?
Parson called it gut instinct - Prescott's weapon was nowhere near her body. The only gun that was found was in the master suit, not very far from Leila's body. It also wasn't the standard gun Taylor has his security team carry. Something was far past amiss.
They couldn't roll Prescott over to see if her weapon was under her, because they knew better than to disturb a crime scene. However, by the time the EMT's arrived and moved her body, Reynolds and Parson were convinced that Prescott didn't have her Glock. A pre-paid cell phone was found near her body, and holy shit, what they found out from it.
Covering his finger with the fabric of his jacket, Parson pressed a button and read the last text message Prescott had received.
The sender was "Joe", and the message simply said, "Here."
It had been sent minutes after Prescott and Ana were checking in at the hotel.
Parson scrolled through each damning text, and call, recording it all on his cell phone.
Leila didn't have a cell phone on her person, and after searching the room, it was determined she'd only brought one weapon – a knife. Her car keys had been tossed on a sofa near Prescott's body.
Reynolds told Parson to head out and see if he could locate the Porsche. It was parked behind the hotel, and Parson was in the locked vehicle in less than a minute. He'd make one hell of a car thief.
There Parson found another pre-paid cell phone. Each text and call were identical to the ones on the phone near Prescott's body. Documenting the evidence just the way he did with Prescott's phone, Parson was out of the vehicle and headed up to the Grand Suite as the EMT's and police were arriving.
The texts show that Prescott had told Leila she was picking Ana up and taking her to The Heathman, specifically, the Grande Suite. Not long after they arrived at the hotel, Leila knocked on the door and Prescott let her in. Unfortunately for her, it appears that Leila murdered her as soon as she entered the suite. Not a single defensive injury was on Belinda Prescott's body.
From the information we've gathered so far, Prescott wasn't carrying her gun because she trusted Leila, and didn't see a reason to be packing. That was one of Prescott's many mistakes. From all of the information gathered from the cell's Reynolds and Parson found, Prescott thought that Leila was going to kidnap Ana – not kill her.
Then, we have Sawyer, and more of Taylor's security in Seattle, that descended on the apartment Leila told Anastasia that she was living in. Before losing consciousness, Ana was able to tell Reynolds about Leila claiming she was a resident of Escala. At first, both guys thought that Ana was fucking hallucinating. Before the EMTs and police arrived, Parson had called Sawyer, told him what Ana was saying. As sure as fuck, Anastasia wasn't hallucinating. Sawyer, and the guys he rounded up, found multiple cell phones that linked Prescott to Leila. They also found various wigs in the apartment. Leila knew that she couldn't be recognized. I still can't believe she was living under our noses for more than a year.
The apartment was owned by one Randall Cooper. Welch's search for the man took him to Vitals and Statistics. The man was dead from natural causes. I assume he was Leila's Dom and that he'd left the apartment to Leila. We aren't sure, though. To be honest, I don't give a fuck, and told them to not even try to find out if he was. It's not relevant.
Wilson talked to several residents on the same floor as Cooper's apartment, and showed them a picture of Leila. Only two positively identified her, although they told him she had blonde hair, and they hadn't seen her in months. The building's manager and a few staff members were questioned and said the same.
Taylor suspects Leila was using the stairwell to keep from running into anyone in our camp that would have recognized her. Taylor's embarrassed, and furious at himself for not catching this fuck up before it even started. He offered his immediate resignation; I told him to shove his resignation and get back to work. He can't take responsibility for any of this, and I agree with my what my dad told us: "They had the advantage on all of you."
Finding out how Leila got to one of my security personnel was a tricky puzzle to put together, but thank fuck that the guys finished the puzzle quickly. It was like finding evidence underneath a long dead, exhumed body, but it explained how the two women knew each other. It explained how long they knew each other. It's also the reason that in the future, I'll be running deep background checks on the damn parents of people that I'm getting background checks on. How fucked is that?
Had we done that with these women, this wouldn't have occurred. Or at least I'm telling myself that.
Prescott and Leila only communicated through burner phones. Leila's name was programmed in Prescott's as "Joe."
Leila was adopted and her adoptive father's name was Joseph "Joe" Williams. Once we got that bit of evidence from underneath the so called exhumed body, things started falling into place, facts were slowly coming to light. That light was morbid.
I was aware that Leila was adopted as an infant, and her adoptive parents were dead. Her mother died when she was a teenager, and her father died of a heart attack about a year before she was my sub.
But I didn't know one disturbing fact about her family.
Leila's adoptive mother, Anne Williams, died when Leila was sixteen. What I wasn't aware of - she committed suicide. Or at least that's what's listed on her death certificate. Welch had to pull out a few illegal tricks to get the woman's autopsy report. According to it, along with a lengthy police report, it details that one afternoon, Anne Williams drew a bath, got in the tub, and slit both of her wrists.
That isn't the disturbing part. According to the doctor who performed her autopsy, there was water in her lungs and the cuts on her wrists were made after death. He noted that was suspect, because if Anne Williams died of blood loss, and submerged under the water, she wouldn't have had water in her lungs. A dead body doesn't slide into water and take a breath. The doctor who performed her autopsy was new to the coroner's office, and the senior pathologist over ruled his conclusion, saying there was no way to know if Anne Williams was barely alive as she went under the water and was still breathing. He classified the cause of death as a suicide and that was the end of it.
However, everyone around me shares the same eerie suspicion: Leila killed her mother.
So how did Leila and Prescott meet?
Leila's father, Joe Williams, had been a widower not quite a year when he met, and began a relationship with a divorcee, Melba Prescott, of Portland, Oregon. Her daughter, Belinda, was fifteen.
Joe and Melba, along with their respective children, Leila and Belinda, lived under the same roof for six years. The more Welch and Taylor delved, they found that Leila and Belinda were close. As in, they were in a secret, romantic relationship. I had no idea that Leila was bisexual. No relationship with a woman was found on her background check since the young women kept it so private. The same goes for Prescott's background check, and Taylor's reports are lightyears deeper than Welch's.
Prescott graduated from the University of Oregon and went straight to work for the FBI. She was there for three years before Welch found her, and my money was enough of a draw for her to resign from the FBI and join Taylor's security team.
Leila Williams was my sub while Prescott was a senior in college. The two never communicated after they broke up. Leila was out of my life for several years before Taylor hired Prescott. The two never spoke, so there was no connection to me.
That changed days after Anastasia was attacked and reports of it were in the newspaper and on television. Leila caught sight of Prescott when there was footage of her, alongside Taylor, escorting me into the hospital.
Leila had already sabotaged Charlie Tango in the attempt to kill me. Once she discovered that Prescott worked for me, she contacted her. Not long afterward, the two were a couple again, and Leila had Prescott doing her bidding. We have no doubts that Leila was just using Prescott to have a foot in my life. So, the entire time Prescott was out protecting Anastasia, Leila knew her every move.
This morning, Leila knew Anastasia out maneuvered Ryan, and got out of the apartment, because every member of Taylor's security team was sent an alert via Ryan, and, Prescott, being a member of the security team, received it. She immediately contacted and informed Leila.
Not long after my girlfriend hit I 5, Leila was pursuing her, although at the time, neither Leila or Prescott knew Anastasia was headed to Portland, rather, straight to Belinda Prescott, who was in Portland visiting her family. Direct instructions to the team via Taylor alerted everyone that Ana was headed to Portland. Prescott received the alert, contacted Leila again, and gave her the specifics of Taylor's order.
Thinking about it chills my blood, but I'm glad they're dead. I think they both got what they deserved. In my opinion, it's a fucking shame that Prescott didn't get the beat down that Leila received before Anastasia was forced to kill her. I was ecstatic to find out that my girl had gone toe to toe with Leila. Maybe that's how Ray feels about what his crazy and irresponsible daughter did – with a fucking gun he hid in my fucking home. A gun he hid in a box of Christmas decorations. God, I want to punch him in the face.
It was Anastasia and her incoherent ramblings to Reynolds that gave us the intel on the apartment at Escala. It gave Taylor's guys the opportunity to search it before the Seattle PD got word and descended upon it. Nearly two hours went by before Taylor contacted the SPD. That's how long it took the team to get in, do a thorough search, and grab what we didn't want the SPD to find.
Once Sawyer gave the all clear, Reynolds "suddenly recalled" Anastasia mumbling about Leila living in Escala. It was blatantly obvious that the SPD didn't believe us, but fuck them.
With two police jurisdictions, along with the SFD, and NTSB involved, it's been a circus. Now that Leila's dead, both investigations of the arson and sabotage of Charlie Tango are over.
As for my errant, crazy, and stupidly brave girlfriend, she must have an angel protecting her and our baby. The ultrasound showed that the baby is fine. As far as Ana goes, the puncture wound underneath her chin only required a few stitches. Though her hand was a bloody mess, and looked like it was barely attached to her arm, the knife's blade didn't injure any of the nerves. Yes, the cut was deep, but not as deep as initially thought. She miraculously only suffered tissue and small vessel damage, and I'm not sure how many stitches it required, because I had to leave the room while they worked on her. Now she looks like she's wearing a thick oven mitt.
I've been assured Anastasia isn't going to suffer any long-term damage from her injuries, and the treatment for them isn't placing the baby at risk. From the bruising all over her body, as well as Leila's, and a destroyed bedroom suite, we know that a lot more took place before she killed Leila. Thankfully, it doesn't appear that she was struck anywhere near the left side of her head, where her skull was fractured. All tests showed she doesn't have a head injury.
I get nauseous when I think of what could have happened to Anastasia. I also want to take her over my knee and spank the living shit out of her. I've successfully managed to keep the medical staff from slipping up and mentioning Ana's pregnancy to my father and Ray. Ana's plan is to tell the entire family together. I also don't want to discuss the baby, because when I think about how she placed herself and our baby at risk, I want to break everything within my fucking reach.
I don't understand why Ana thought what she was doing was a good idea. How did she rationalize this to herself as even being sane? I understand she probably felt safe knowing she was armed, but the fucking gun didn't keep her from being beat and cut up, now did it? That's another reason I want to knock Ray out. She's a high risk for doing stupid shit, and she's also not thinking clearly.
"Mr. Grey."
My father and I turn at the same time. We also sigh at the same time. The two Portland homicide detectives have entered the room. The tall blonde woman, Yates or Bates – I don't remember her correct name, is looking at me warily. Looks like I'm the Mr. Grey she was referring to.
Her partner, a redhead, whose name I don't care to know, is beside her. She has an aggressive and irritated disposition, and if anyone has a right to be aggressive and irritated, it's me.
"Yes," I reply, trying to stomp out my temper that the sight of them flares.
"We're going to release a statement to the press. Inaccurate information is being leaked from employees at the hotel, and we need to put a lid on it. Both the SPD, SFD, and the NTSB are doing the same. I know you'd want a head's up before the—"
"The vultures descend?" I all but sneer at the blonde, whose done nothing but her job, but at the same time, hindering what we've been trying to uncover before she does.
The redheaded detective rolls her eyes at me. Now my temper is beginning to simmer again.
"What time are you releasing the information?" Dad asks.
"Eight," the blonde detective answers.
I think everyone in the room checks their watch. Fuck! That's in fifteen minutes.
"You're just telling us now?" I snap.
"We have family in Seattle who haven't been told the details about what happened," Dad says. "We want to do that, not have them learn about it on the damn news." His voice is raised.
Bates or Yates steps forward.
"Mr. Grey, to be blunt, our concern isn't your family being informed. Our concern is shutting down the misinformation," she says, looking him square in the eyes. "And we have to find out what occurred in that hotel suite."
I narrow my eyes at her. "What do you mean by that? Isn't it fucking obvious? Leila Williams killed my employee, who happened to be her mother fucking accomplice, and then Miss Steele had to defend herself."
"Mr. Grey, until we get Miss Steele's statement, we can't wrap this case up and put a bow on it. We can't be certain that Williams murdered Ms. Prescott," the redhead replies.
My tempter explodes, and I roar, "Are you fucking implying that Anastasia could have killed that bitch Prescott? You told us that there were only one set of prints on that knife, and they belonged to Leila Williams…" My words trail away as my voice goes hoarse from screaming.
Staunton, the lawyer that Dad called in for Anastasia, walks around the table. "Detective Bates, are you implying that Miss Steele stabbed that woman nearly a dozen times? When did she do it? Before or after she let Leila Williams into that hotel room? Mr. Grey is correct. Those two women were working together, and Miss Steele was the intended target," he states.
Okay, her name is Bates.
He looks at her and the other woman, who are staring at him impassively.
"Miss Steele is the only witness, Mr. Staunton, and you're perfectly aware we have to have her statement," the blonde replies.
Dad leaves the room, phone in hand. I'm sure he's going to call Elliot. Shit. Kate's ass will be standing in front of me in hours.
"When Miss Steele is able to give you a statement, you're not going to harass her," I tell them. "She's the fucking victim."
The other detective sighs and speaks. "We don't have the intention to harass Miss Steele, Mr. Grey. You know we have to interview her."
Oh, fuck them. Don't they know how hard it's going to be on Anastasia having to describe what must have been a terrifying and traumatic experience? Of course, they do. I just don't want that to happen.
"Whatever, but I won't let you badger her, and I don't understand why you'd suspect any other scenario than the obvious one," I reply.
"Mr. Grey, Miss Steele isn't going to be badgered. We just need to know what happened, and, again, she's the only witness," Bates pipes up. She sounds irritated.
Yeah, detective, we're all fucking irritated.
I look at my watch. It's fucking eight o'clock.
Great.
The fucking news outlets in the Pacific Northwest are going to come in there fucking pants when they find out who was involved in this shit storm. I hope Dad has thought to call Kate's father, Eamon Kavanagh. He can rein in any outlets and papers he owns. I can only imagine the headlines the press is going to give this story.
Fuck me.
Looking up, I level a glare at both detectives. "Miss Steele was brutalized. Rest assured, I won't allow her to be victimized, as well."
Before either have the chance to reply, Dad sticks his head back in the room. "Son, Ray asked for you to go to Ana. She's mumbling your name," he tells me, his cell phone at his ear.
"She's waking up?" I ask, already turning to leave the room.
He shakes his head. "Ray said he thinks she's just talking in her sleep, but wanted you there just in case she is walking up."
I mechanically run my hands through my hair and look over at Taylor, who looks angry and is glaring at the two cops.
"Keep me informed about the fucking shit storm," I tell him. "And tell your guys that no one had better get anywhere near Anastasia."
I head out of the door. I vaguely hear his, "Yes, sir."
Sir.
Fuck, if I'd never been a fucking 'Sir' none of this shit would have happened. I think I'm going to order that all of my employees never address me that way again.
I step into the elevator, punch the floor I'm headed to, and my cell vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and nearly put my fist through the elevator's door.
Son of a bitch, "Elena" is on the screen.
What the fuck does she want?
I hit the side button on my phone and reject her call.
Fuck her.
Next chapter is a time jump