Chapter Twenty-Four
~Anastasia~
The patio? Is she going to meet someone?
She opens the door. No, there's no one there.
She doesn't look around before stepping out of the door.
The vase is raised. The first violent blow jerks her body forward. She sways.
The second blow comes down harder and she falls into the pool.
I'm surprised that her blood is red. I'd thought it would as black as her soul.
There are no bubbles around her. She isn't breathing.
No one hurts my family and lives. No one.
There's a noise.
A pair of eyes slowly move between me and her body in the pool.
The body opens the fence door.
Their hands begin to help me.
Two months later
"So, he really put the house in your name?"
I shrug. "Yep. He said it was to move some assets around for tax purposes."
We look at each and break out into laughter. Like Christian gives a shit about paying taxes.
I stand with Kate as we stare at the pink sandstone of my future home. It's palatial and has a beach that reaches Puget Sound. I agree with Kate when she says that Taylor is probably losing sleep over the ways he can secure the beach.
"Maybe the mogul can put in a moat?" Kate asks. Her, and that Kavanagh grin.
"I don't think the home owner's association would approve. That would block off their view of the water."
"Alligators?" she kids.
"I think the only place you'll find alligators in western Washington is at the zoo," I reply.
Kate turns around to look at Sawyer, who's keeping his distance, but is following behind us. "Hey, hottie. What are you guys planning on doing about the wide open beach? Has Grey lost his mind over it yet? she yells.
Poor Sawyer. Kate does love to flirt with him. "I'm not aware that any plans have been solidified," he tells her.
"Don't you ever get tired of following Ana around? I hope the mogul pays you guys enough."
"I don't mind it all. It's my job, and I do more than just follow Mrs. Grey around," Luke counters. I can tell that he wants to smile.
"Well, I didn't mind having Thomas and Garrett follow me after the Leila Williams shit storm first went down, but Grey putting two females on me is exasperating. They check the damn bathroom before I can go in." Kate sounds irritated.
She follows me around the back of the house where there are several Grey Construction trucks and tons of other pieces of equipment that I have no idea what they are. It seems like Elliot's crew are everywhere.
"I didn't think you were tearing it down?" Kate asks.
"We're not. It's being gutted and re-modeled. Elliot's told Christian there's no way that he'll have it completed before the baby comes. Christian refuses to listen to reason," I start. "All I know, is that if it isn't, I'm either moving in with you and Elliot or heading to the Fairmont. I hate living in that penthouse. It's littered with Christian's past and every time that I look around the place, I wonder if he fucked one of his subs there. And, I'm always correct. It's depressing."
"I'd bet. Sometimes I think about all of the skanks that Elliot's had in his bed and want to burn the mattress," Kate replies.
We laugh and then Kate begins to yell for Elliot. So many of the people working stop and stare at her before he notices us. I'm so embarrassed by her mini-spectacle that the ground swallowing me up seems like a great idea.
Elliot's got what looks like a hammer in one hand and his face is covered in dirt. His blonde hair even looks dingy. He's soon by our sides, but both move out of his way when he tries to hug us.
"Don't touch me, Elliot Grey. You're disgusting," Kate yelps as Elliot reaches for her.
"I second that. I'm not sure which is worse, Christian wearing monkey suits to work every day, or you looking like a vagrant," I tell him.
He makes a move to rub the very growing baby Grey. "The baby needs to know how much fun their favorite uncle is going to be."
Kate crosses her arms. "You're the only uncle the baby's going to have. Well, that's unless Mia marries Ethan."
We smile at the look on Elliot's face. "Don't even go there, Katherine. I already have nightmares about that relationship."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic. They're in love, just like we are. What do you think goes on in their relationship?" Kate's poking the bear.
"Blah, blah, blah. Change the subject. I don't want that image in my mind," Elliot grumbles.
"What are you two ladies doing all of the way out here?" Elliot looks back at Sawyer and nods. "Sawyer, where's Garrett?
"Mr. Grey, Garrett is down at the entrance. He's checking out the gate codes. Full detail is with Mrs. Grey and Miss Kavanagh," Sawyer tells him.
"Good deal." Elliot turns his attention back to us. "I see that you waited until after lunch to drop by. I'd have loved if you'd have brought me something decent to eat. Four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ain't shit for a working man."
"Well, we went to your mom and dad's new house," Kate says.
Elliot blows out a breath. "Whew, don't even mention that shit. I fucking hate that they moved. I understand why, but man, that place was where we grew up. I'd never have thought they'd move," he mutters.
Kate's eyebrows raise. "I understand you feeling that way, but seriously, no one expects for them to live there after what happened to that evil woman. I don't even know if the place will ever be bought."
I'd go to rub Elliot's arm to comfort him, but he's filthy. "Kate's right. I know you guys hate it for your parents, but it's been called a "murder house" for months now. Good luck to the realtor who pitches that house," I tell him.
"Plus, my God, the house they bought is freaking out of this world. Considering the fact that they bought on this side of Lake Washington, there's no doubt they washed their hands of Bellevue. They rightfully didn't want anything to remind them of that night," Kate says.
Kate's right. Carrick and Grace bought a waterfront home in Madison Park, which is another area near Seattle where the ultra rich buy homes. I'm not sure how many zeroes were in that price tag for their home, or on this house. I don't want to know. Christian wanted to buy the house for them since he blames himself for what happened to Elena in the home. Elliot soon joined the bandwagon, and I thought Carrick was going to choke both of his sons before they finally shut up.
The home they bought was listed as one for empty nesters. What a load of shit. It's got eleven bedrooms, I forgot how many bathrooms. There's a tennis court, a swimming pool that's right on Lake Washington. It even has a Yacht launch. Because Carrick and Grace own a fucking Yacht.
My idea of fun on the water only includes an inner tube.
I still can't wrap my mind around all of this wealth, even if I was around with Kate during our college years.
Christian bought our home that sits squarely on Puget Sound. It's in a neighborhood that isn't too far from downtown, and more practical so he won't have such a long commute into the city. It's still far enough to have a home on the water and the feel of being isolated in the woods. Being the anti-social control freak that he is, he bought the two empty lots beside the home. I think that was a move for security purposes.
When I saw it, I didn't ask what it cost. I was too busy gaping at the full size basketball court, home theater, gym, and bathrooms for him and her, all down in the basement. I've been ordering furnishings online. Even if I wanted to, there wouldn't be a chance that Christian would allow me to go out and shop in public. Kate even refuses to go anywhere except work, and that's with four of Taylor's security. And they all look like they could break a person in half with one hand.
Carrick and Grace are keeping all of their belongings and are moving into the new house next weekend. They steadily refused our offer to stay with us and remained in the penthouse of the Fairmont. Mia, on the other hand, has stayed with us since Elena was murdered. She's like a cat on a hot tin roof and only leaves the penthouse if it's to see our new house or her parents' house in Madison Park. She's all about helping me pick our furnishings online since Christian has all of us on such a short leash.
But Mia reminds me of a person who's at a red light and wants to desperately run it, only, she has no where to be. There have been times that when we can get her to talk that she's frenetic. Kate's been Googling Bipolar. I'm just watching from the sidelines.
Christian has increased security. He says it's needed; it's also suffocating. Gail even has two guys on her whenever she leaves the penthouse to buy groceries or whatever other errands she has, but Christian's asked her to not leave on the weekends. I know that's made both Gail and Taylor happy, even if Taylor is busy setting up security at the new house. If Christian had his way, he'd be the only one allowed out in public.
"Hell, I understand," Elliot responds and throws his hammer down. "It's just going to be hard. I also know how hard this has been on Mom. Jesus, they lived in that house for nearly thirty years. Seeing how this has hurt her makes me want to bring that Lincoln bitch back to life so I can kill her myself."
"I know that you do," Kate says. "You can't though. We can only look ahead and make the future how we want it. There's no sense dwelling on the past. That includes Morticia finally getting what she deserved, as well as your guilt over Christian. Hear me out, El. I know what you've been going through, but no matter how strong you've been for your brother, there's going to be a rock bottom you're going to hit. Hell, perhaps you've already hit it. But babe, the truth is that no matter how strong you think you are, and the ground is collapsing at your feet, you're the only person that can get you back to the surface is yourself.
Kate's words hang over his. She's right, and Elliot just can't get past what happened. No matter how the entire family has forgiven him, he just can't accept clemency.
I kick my Wellington boot into the red mud around us. They were a gift from Kate and Elliot when they went to England during the time that I don't remember. I peer at my brother-in-law. "Listen to her, Elliot. It wasn't your fault. Christian falling into Elena's trap at fifteen wasn't your fault. You haven't been yourself since that disastrous night. Stop punishing yourself," I added. "And stop with the adage, "Everything happens for a reason," I begin. "The fucked up truth is nothing happens for a reason. Sometimes people make the wrong decisions and have to live with them for the rest of their lives."
Elliot stares at me dubiously. "That woman gnawed at and corroded my family for so long." He stops, looking tortured, and stares up in the gloomy sky. "I just want to pour out the garbage in my soul on someone and not have to worry about the mess I've made." His lips tremble, and if a heart could break, mine surely would.
Kate, not giving a shit how filthy her boyfriend is, puts her arms around his neck and kisses him. "El, under the circumstance, everyone would feel devastated and violated. However, you have to find a way to accept what's happened and what's not going to change. And you haven't made a mess." Then she gestures to me with a nod. "Maybe you should try therapy. Ana and Christian both have psychiatrists. Find someone who's removed from this mess to talk to."
I want to roll my eyes at Kate but I don't. Leave it up to her to use me as an example for someone with a messed up head that sees a psychiatrist to help fix it. Or rub a balm on it. "You two, don't use me as the poster child for psychiatry. We all know that I'm not a whole person, and at this point, I don't think I ever will be. Parts of me have died. If I'm lucky, I visit them in my dreams," I confessed." "I've found that the only solution is to stand and fight." I didn't intend to sound so harsh.
Kate and Elliot pull a part and examine me. "Now, I feel really dumb, not to mention, selfish," Elliott mutters.
"Why?" I ask. The piss like rain that had been coming down all morning is getting harder. And the odor of dirt is filling my nose. I raise the hood of my bright red raincoat. June weather shouldn't be so shitty.
"For starters, you've been going though hell for nearly a year, and no one can even touch on how hard that is on you. I don't even think anyone has the right to complain," Elliot answers, he looks dejected.
I hold my hands up. "Don't go there. You can think it all you want, just don't ask how I am," I snap.
"Ana, not every time that I ask how you are is regarding the hell you've gone through. Sometimes I just want to know how baby Grey is making you feel," Elliot replies defensively.
Before I can answer, the already gray sky, opens up and rain begins to pour down on us. Elliot begins to swear, since this means his work day has just ended.
The crew that were working on the outside of the house scurry inside and we follow them. Elliot and his foreman are handing out orders, and workers, who are mostly men, but there are also a few women on the crew, are loading up in work trucks. Kate disappears upstairs.
I make my way further into the house to see how the work in the kitchen is coming along. Elliot had told me that all of the new cabinetry was being installed. To my surprise, I find a man wearing a Grey Construction sweatshirt still working. I can hear most of the crew leaving. His back is to me. I'm afraid to approach him since he's got a nail gun in his hand and I'm behind him. I don't want to be responsible for the man shooting himself in the eye. My concern is unwarranted though – he turns around – he must have heard me.
He sees me and grins. He's wearing a Boston Red Sox baseball cap on backwards.
"I didn't mean to be sneak up on you. I thought everyone had left," I tell him, returning his smile.
"You're good. I'd taken out my earplugs and heard you." He gestures around the mess of the room. The mess that's gradually becoming to look like a kitchen. "What do you think, so far? I know it's a mess, but everything will soon be as it should," he replies. His voice is hoarse and he doesn't have a Boston accent. I guess he just likes the team.
I run my fingers across the granite counter. "I can see it coming together. Are you in charge of the kitchen?"
"Nah, just working on it. Been here from the beginning." He pointedly stares at my pregnant body and I instantly feel uneasy. I take a step back and trip on a pile of electrical wires. I yelp.
The man rushes forward and grabs my elbow, catching me before I fall. His touch causes my body to itch. It's an unpleasant sensation that I can't quite name. I pull away, and he let's go. He's grinning. "Glad I could catch ya before ya fell, Mrs. Grey," he said.
"Yes, thank you." The unpleasant feeling becomes uneasy when he takes off his baseball cap, still smiling at me.
It's only then that I can see his entire face. It surprises me, but I don't want to act taken aback by his appearance because I don't want to be an asshole. Still, I'm taken aback, and I also have that creeping uneasy feeling up my back. The man's hair is all but shaved off. I can see that it's red. He's tall and has very blue eyes – intense – that are leering at me. But it's the entire right side of his face that I'm doing my best to ignore. He was obviously in a fire; the scars cover most of the right side of his face from his forehead to his chin. Even his eye and ear are scarred. His appearance must not bother him though, because he's still staring at me in a way that I don't like.
"I heard we're trying to finish the house up before your baby arrives. September, if I heard right?" I don't even like the sound of this man's voice.
I suppose it isn't out of the question that Elliot's workers know when he'd like for the house to be finished and that's before the baby is due. I still don't like a stranger knowing that information or asking me about it. The strangeness of the situation isn't lost on me. I'm just not sure what to think about it. My body is buzzing, alight with alarm and anxiety, but I'm unsure where the sensations are coming from and why. It's the sense of impending doom without any way to prepare, and I don't know why.
"Mrs. Grey!" Sawyer's voice booms off of the walls and I'm so relieved that I nearly run to him.
He comes into view and checks me out to see if I'm okay. My detail seems to believe that I'll break into pieces if they aren't around. However, this time, I'm relieved Sawyer showed up when he did. I can hear him making his way to us.
"It was nice meeting ya, Mrs. Grey. Guess we'll see each other again," the man says. He grabs his tool belt and is gone before Sawyer reaches us.
Sawyer appraises me as I hurry to him. "Ma'am are you all right?" The corners of his mouth are turned down and I know that he's irritated.
"Cut the ma'am, Luke. I'm fine. I met a guy on Elliot's crew that gave me the creeps. You didn't happen to see him did you?"
Sawyer scans the area. "No. Describe him. Did he do something?"
"The right side of his head was scarred terribly. Burn scars. Even his eye and ear were scarred up. He practically had a shaved head but I could tell his hair was red. He was wearing a Bo Sox cap on backwards."
Sawyer sighs. "Ana, did he behave inappropriately? Try to scare you? This is exactly why you're told not to walk away from your detail."
"Of course, he wasn't trying anything. He's a carpenter for Grey Construction. Let's chalk it up to having an odd personality."
Kate and Elliot come down a rather precarious set of stairs. She begins to describe what's been done upstairs since I'm not daring to go upstairs carrying baby Grey.
"Mr. Grey," Sawyer starts. "Mrs. Grey just met one of your workers. Burn scars covering the right side of his face. She said his head was nearly shaved but saw that his hair was red. Can you tell me who that is?"
"That's Ben. I hired him when we started this castle of Christian's. He's a chill dude. Why?" Elliot asks.
"I just met him. He unnerved me," I reply.
"What's his last name, Mr. Grey?" Sawyer asks, causing Elliot to roll his eyes.
"For God's sake. How many times do I have to tell you guys to call me Elliot? Christian is Mr. Grey because he's an uptight asshole."
"Fine, Elliot. Tell me about this man," Sawyer orders him. Sawyer disposition is bothering me, Who gets bent out of shape over a construction worker?
Elliot rubs his jaw and squints his eyes. "Hell, I don't know what to tell you. I think his last name Jackson. Don't know anything about the scars, because, frankly, that's none of my business. I think he's from Idaho."
"What about his job application? Can I see that?" Sawyer goes on.
Kate scoffs. "Elliot doesn't do job applications. If you can swing a hammer, put shingles on a roof, and work any of that equipment out there, he hires you," she tells us.
Sawyer doesn't looked pleased. "Don't you have info in order to pay him? No social security number?"
Elliot laughs. "Man, don't run to the IRS and tell them this, but there's a shit load of people that I pay under the table. I don't ask why as long as they get the job done, and Ben gets the job done."
"Jesus, El. Aren't you afraid you're hiring a criminal that doesn't want to be traced?" Kate looks alarmed.
Elliot shakes his head. "Shit, if we find out he's a criminal, we kill him, and bury him underneath a house we're building." He laughs.
We don't.
"Luke, I don't do background checks on my employees like your boss does. I don't know their bank account numbers or if they passed their driving test the first time that they took it." He shrugs and glances my way. "Did he say or do something out of line?" Elliot asks me.
"Like I told Luke, he gave me the creeps, and it wasn't because of how he looked. He set off my anxiety. It's probably because I've never seen him, and you know that I don't like meeting strangers. Especially when I'm alone."
"Maybe Ana should start interviewing your employees to weed out the creeps," Kate says, ruffling Elliot's dirty blonde curls.
It's now raining so hard that I'm thanking the universe for these boots Kate and Elliot bought me. With Sawyer's hand firmly wrapped around my waist, he hurries me to the Q7, with Parson is sitting behind the wheel. He helps me inside and straps me in. That's the guys new MO. They think the baby bump is too big for me to reach over and put my seat belt on. They all look so intimidating, but they're teddy bears when it comes to me. Ryan and Reynolds are to follow us.
Elliot escorts Kate to her awaiting Q7 and when one of her security guys jumps out to help her in, Elliot waves them off. He also refuses to have security – even though Christian has two guys following him – because he claimed he's not a pussy.
I'm getting sleepy as I sit here in the silence and watching the rain. My mind drifts and I think about all of the things that I can't remember no matter how hard I try. The memories are unseen ghosts that flit overhead. Ghosts of moments and happy times that I don't believe I'll ever remember. I wish that I could go back to that September evening and listened to Parson. I didn't. I'd been telling myself for months that I could handle Jack Hyde on my own. I didn't want to tell Sawyer or Parson how he made me feel. I didn't want them to tell Christian. I knew that he'd order one of them to stay with me in SIP, and I would have been embarrassed to have a babysitter in my place of employment. Now I have ghosts that are just out of reach. They isolate me. They anger me. They hurt. I wish that I could go back and do it all differently, but here I am, stuck, crying alongside the sky. My chin quivers as I weep.
I remain in this state until we're only a couple of blocks from Escala and Sawyer's phone going off gets my attention. His replies are succinct. They're curt. He turns in his seat and looks at me. I can see the apology written all over his demeanor. "Ana, Taylor says that there are two detectives from the Bellevue PD at the penthouse. It appears that they've taken it upon themselves to call the family to have an impromptu meeting at Escala. They told him they had some questions to ask you all," he tells me.
I sit up straighter and wipe the tears off of my cheeks. "Elena?" I whisper.
Sawyer nods.
"Where's Kate?" I inquire quickly. Turning around, I see the car she's in is following us. I'm sure Elliot isn't too far behind, and I know this is probably going to intensify his guilt.
We'd been told that since no progress or arrest after two months, hinted that the case would be deemed cold. The police had cleared the Grey family. They questioned Elena's ex husband, Linc, once they found out he was in attendance. He had an airtight alibi. He was in the backseat of his car service with his wife. It doesn't matter that he's a slimy creep, he was ruled out as a killer.
Due to the weather, Parson goes straight to the garage with Kate's detail parking beside us. Sawyer's helping me out as she runs to me, panic on her face.
"What the fuck?" she hisses quietly.
"I don't know. I'm not even sure that I want to know," I reply in a very hushed tone of voice.
"God, I hope Mia isn't acting like a member of the Manson family," Kate says.
My eyes widen at the memory of my sister-in-law acting like a fruit loop for the past two months.
Elliot turns into the garage so quickly that I'm surprised the tires of his truck don't fall off. He looks pissed off as he slams his door and looks at each of the security detail. "What the fuck's going on?" he demands.
It's Parson that speaks up. "We have no idea, sir. Mr. Grey said two detectives, the ones who questioned us all are here. They refused to say why. Your parents are already here, as well as Ms. Barker and Mr. Beson, who represented several of you when you were initially questioned."
"Fuck," Elliot grunts. He appears like he wants to punch something; he looks like he'd enjoy punching someone.
Only Sawyer and Garrett fit in the elevator with us. The rest of our detail take the service elevator. Elliot has a firm hold on one of Kate's hands and I'm holding my breath as we all enter the foyer. Sawyer opens it and we step into the living room.
Christian is still in a suit and he's furious. He isn't trying to hide it, either. Right after Elena Lincoln was murdered, Carrick told Christian to knock it off with his anger issues. They weren't doing him any favors in the eyes of law enforcement.
He makes his way to me and kisses me and rubs baby Grey. "I'm sorry, I have no fucking idea what this is about. Let Barker and Beson do all of the talking," he whispers in my ear.
I pull off my muddy boots and Kate does as well. Elliot doesn't seem to give a shit that he's filthy and just strolls into the living room. I know that Christian probably wants to choke him for it.
Ms. Barker, who'd sat in while I was questioned by the police is perched in the middle of the sectional. She's staring down the detectives, one I don't recognize, and the other, that Detective Estes that I really, really don't like.
Everyone stands and shakes hands like we're old friends, except for Mia, Carrick and Grace, who are sitting on the far end of the sectional. Gail gives Grace a cup of coffee, and Grace's hands are trembling so bad that I can hear the cup rattle the saucer. I look at her through the corner of my eye.
Mia is huddled next to her father. Her expression is guarded and her shoulders are squared. It's like looking at a woman that I haven't seen in two months.
Detective Estes addresses us as we take a seat on the other side of Ms. Barker. Why doesn't Christian own any other living room furniture than this damn sectional? get that before me he hardly had guests, but come on, this is ridiculous. We're all having to break our necks to see one another.
I feel the presence of others behind me. It's Taylor and Sawyer. Standing straight as boards with hands behind their backs. Their expressions are void of any emotion.
"Hello. This is Detective Healy. He's working the case alongside me, and some of you must recognize him since he questioned several of you," Detective Estes tells us.
"Yes, yes, we do. Can you please tell us why you're here? Surely if you have further questions for the family you'd have requested for them to come into the police station," Mr. Beson barks. He's got to be around Carrick's age. I've never seen him before, although I recall his name.
Detective Healy, who's looking around the huge living room, clears his throat. "We're here because we finally spoke to all members of the catering staff, as well as the florists. We know that there were eleven tables that sat eight people," he begins, only Detective Estes cuts him off.
"We know that every invited guest attended, and of course, they've been questioned -"
"And what the hell does any of that have to do with our family," Elliot exclaims, interrupting her.
"Okay, I'll cut to the chase. There were eleven tables. When the dinner was over and the PD was on scene, only ten tables had a flower arrangement sitting in a Lalique vase," Estes replies.
Silence falls around the room. If everyone is like me, they don't understand why something so fundamental, something the police should have known two months ago, is just know being brought up.
"Detective Estes, why wasn't this brought up two months ago when we were initially questioned?" Carrick asks.
"We're curious if anyone has recalled anything from that night? Did you see anyone enter or leave the dining room that shouldn't have been?" she asks.
"Jesus Christ," Christian says through gritted teeth. "Don't you think if we had, we would have informed you? I'm sure that you're aware this bullshit has caused my parents to move from their home that they've lived in for nearly thirty years. If we knew something you'd have been told. Do you think my parents are enjoying how they've had to pick up their lives and move the fuck away?"
Detective Healy's eyebrows raise. "Do you think Elena Lincoln enjoyed being murdered? I'm sure she'd say that was a fuck up," he challenges Christian.
Keep quiet, Christian.
Both detectives look at me. "Mrs. Grey, would you consent for us to look at your medical records?" Estes asks.
And then the room explodes with yelling and expletives. Taylor and Sawyer walk further into the room and everyone lowers their voice.
Ms. Barker levels a glare at both cops. "You want Mrs. Grey's medical records? Does that mean you consider her a suspect? If you don't, and try to get a search warrant so your grubby hands can get them, you'd best believe an army of lawyers will fight you in front of a judge." She's so matter of fact. And scary. Really scary.
"I-" start.
"Don't say a word, Ana," Ms. Barker snaps.
I look at Kate and her eyes are huge. I think I see fear in her eyes.
"You didn't answer my question: is Mrs. Grey a suspect in this murder, one that happened two months ago, and can be classified as a cold case," Ms. Barker says in a low and measured tone.
Even my husband has stopped ranting.
Detective Healy looks at me. "Mrs. Grey, have you remembered anything -"
"Don't answer that, Ana!" Ms. Barker all but yells as she cuts him off.
I watch Mia jump.
"I'm going to kick your ass out of my home if you don't stop harassing my wife," Christian says. I'm surprised that he can get words out of his mouth since his jaws are clenched so tight.
Estes sighs. "Mr. Grey, we honestly don't have an intention to harass your wife. We're trying to solve a murder. Just because we're asking Mrs. Grey further questions don't mean that she's a suspect," she says. "And we're only asking if she's remembered anything else, is because if she has, it might be beneficial."
Ms. Barker speaks up. "Yes, and if that had occurred, you'd have been notified. This family has been hurt enough by the reprehensible actions of a woman who was a pedophile and ingratiated herself in their lives. Just because she was murdered in their home, does not mean they killed her. I sincerely doubt they'd cause their family further pain by one of them murdering her. Now, is that all you want? Did you only want to ask if Mrs. Grey would willingly hand over her medical records for you to skim through and find a damn reason to pin a murder on her?"
"They're not -" Christian starts. Once again, Ms. Barker interrupts him.
"Mr. Grey, not a word." She's pointing at him.
I'm sure no one other than his family has ever dared do that to Christian and the thought almost makes me smile. Well, I would if I didn't think I was about to be led out of here in handcuffs.
The male detective, Healy, looks at Taylor and Sawyer. "Mr. Sawyer, you're Mrs. Grey's...bodyguard?" he has a mocking tone of voice.
I notice Sawyer bristle. He's also got that look in his eyes when he gets to elbow a pap in the face.
"No, I'm Mrs. Grey's primary close protection officer and head of her security detail." Sawyer's voice is as impassive as his expression.
"And your post, or however you all refer to it, was beside the bedroom that Mrs. Grey was sleeping in?"
"That's correct."
Everyone's eyes are darting from the detective and Sawyer. Why are they asking this? They already know the answers.
"When questioned, you said Mrs. Grey came up and went to bed not longer after the altercation she had with Mrs. Lincoln," Healy says.
Sawyer subtly nods. "Correct."
Healy huffs, clearly frustrated at Sawyer's answers.
"What time was that?" he asks.
"I didn't look at my watch. I can't give a precise time. I was in the dining room and witnessed what happened. That was around ten o'clock. Once the family was in the living room, and I knew that Mrs. Grey was safe, I didn't time how long she was in there, or when I escorted her upstairs," Sawyer says. He sounds like he's talking about the weather.
"And she never left the room?" Healy blabs on. "To your knowledge, that is?"
"Detective Healy, why are you re-questioning Mr. Sawyer?" Mr. Beson asks him. "I was in the room with the two of you when you initially questioned him. You're asking him the same questions. What are you trying to lead him?"
Healy narrows his eyes on Mr. Beson, but if it's supposed to intimidate him, it's doing fuck all. "I'm just curious about Mr. Grey's security set up," he answers.
For a moment, I'm not sure if Christian is going to pummel the man to death or throw him off the balcony. He wisely follows Ms. Barker's instructions though, and stays quiet.
Christian, like Taylor and Sawyer, are standing. Kate's beside me gripping my hand tightly. Elliot's pacing behind his brother.
"Ms. Barker, can you tell these assholes to get out of my brother's home? I'm half a second of throwing them out myself," Elliot says quite loudly. "No one cares if there was one of twenty fucking vases missing. We didn't murder that woman."
Both Detectives stand. "We thought you'd also like to know that Mrs. Lincoln's clutch has yet to be found, along with her cell phone, and of course, the flower arrangement that was in the vase was never found," Estes says.
"Detective Estes, you told us that months ago." Ms. Barker is so done with these two.
Estes nods. "I'm aware. Again, I thought that information would jog someone's memory." She's looking directly at me while she says it.
No one says another word. Estes and Healy look around the room and we all hold their eyes. Even Mia seems to have found her back bone.
Several uncomfortable seconds pass before Taylor leads them to the elevator. He calls for Sawyer to come to his office when he's back in the living room.
Ms. Barker stands and gives everyone of us dirty looks. Well, she mainly gives Christian a dirty look. She points a finger at the entire family.
"Do not talk to them again. Do not allow any detective from that department near you unless they have a search warrant or a warrant for your arrest, and then you promptly call me," she says. "We have ears on the inside of that department and they're no closer to figuring out who killed Elena Lincoln than they were two months ago. Have I got your attention?" she asks.
It's like she's dressing down a lot of recalcitrant school children and we all have to promise to keep our noses out of anything or anyone remotely close to Elena Lincoln. Like we would anyway. I still haven't had the chance to dance on her grave.
Once all is said and done, and Mia and Kate have thrown back three glasses of white wine, we made plans to help Carrick and Grace out when thirty years of furnishings are brought to their new home. Everyone is stressed again and bad memories have popped up from the ground we buried them in.
It's as though it's the day Elena's body was found.
Mia was headed up to the bedroom she's ensconced herself in when I stopped her. I held her cool hand in mine and stared her in the eyes.
"I would hug you all day if you'd tell me what's wrong. I'd hug you so hard if I could make you fell better," I whisper.
Her brown eyes fill with tears and they begin to run down her face. I wipe them away with my thumbs and wrap my arms around her, but baby Grey keeps us from getting too close.
"I know that you would. That's why I love you so much and am so damn happy you're a Grey," she says softly. Her grip on me is tight. "Everything is going to be okay, isn't it, Ana?" she asks.
I don't know if I can give her an honest answer; I don't know if everything will be okay. The police won't find anything incriminating in my health records if the bloodsuckers are actually able to obtain them. The thought bothers me, though. It's private. I'm private. It's just wrong.
I squeeze Mia. "Yes, Mia. We're all going to be fine. Just imagine the day that Elena Lincoln will never cross our minds again," I tell her.
She pulls away and I wipe her tears again. "I'm going to go rest," she says.
I nod. "I'm going to do that after I take a shower."
Making my way to our bedroom, I hear Christian screaming at someone. I don't know if it's someone on the phone or Taylor and Sawyer.
I walk into the ensuite and turn on the shower. My own tears are about to break and I watch how my hands are trembling. I turn the water on at hot as it can get and so many vivid memories fill my head. I wash my hair and inhale the sweet scent of my jasmine shampoo. My gut churns and I swallow back bile. My legs feel like jelly and I slide my back down the shower's tiled wall. Water from my eyes runs down the bridge of my nose and onto my cheeks. I'd told myself that I was fine and I'd shoved these demons far into a cage and locked it.
Before I know it, I'm covering my mouth to hide my screams. I'm sobbing out of frustration, anger, and sadness.
My emotions are broken. My feelings are skipping like a needle on vinyl.
I'm a broken record.