It's A Crime (20 page)
Authors: C.E. Hansen
Lisa’s office door opened. Daria popped her head in.
“Lisa…
Hanover’s?” she asked.
“I’m thinking not.”
“Oh…come on,” Daria pleaded.
“It’s been a really long day.
I’m thinking a bath then bed.”
“Well,
at least think about it and let me know…Tyler and Johan will be there.”
“Okay, stop.
You’re killing me, Daria.”
Daria laughed
. “You know you want to be there. Come on, it’ll be fun.” Daria smirked. “It’s fucking Friday for Christ’s sake.”
“I’ll see
. I need to get myself up for it. I’m bone tired,” Lisa replied, knowing full well she would go. She has been crushing on Tyler since he started at Morgan six months ago. He had a bit of a crush on her too. She knew it. The opportunity just never presented itself before...
tonight.
She worked late almost every night needing to pay for the apartment in Battery Park City she could barely afford.
She went into her office
, shut down her computers and NASDAQ machine, then walked into the ladies room. She splashed her face with cold water and taking a face cloth wiped away the stress of the day. Opening her purse, Lisa took out her lipstick, mascara and powder, reapplying lightly, liking when her baby blues were center of attention. She shoved the makeup back into the drawer and grabbed her purse. Pulling her camel cashmere coat from the coat hook on the back of her office door, Lisa slipped it on and made her way to the elevators.
She
rushed from her building, her mind made up to meet her friends. It was freezing, but she didn’t mind; the cold air smacking her in the face was invigorating and she needed to wake up after working since 7:50 this morning; she was literally tired enough to sleep on the street. Now.
Her thoughts strayed to Tyler.
Now that face can make even me forget about the relaxing bath I was planning to take.
Walking down
the steps of 55 Water Street, she passed the row of taxi’s lining the curb. She glided down the street toward Hanover Square, a quaint Wall Street bar, turning onto Stone Street, the narrow alley-like road which would bring her out right in front of the bar. She stopped just short of the square. Pulling the scrunchie off of her wrist, she pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail.
She
quickly pulled her compact out of her bag and lightly rubbed the powder across her nose and forehead, removing the shine and giving her skin a glow. She rummaged through her purse and found her “212” perfume…she spritzing some on her wrist and across her chest then shoved the small bottle back inside. Lisa looked up, about to step out into the square. She never saw the gleaming silver blade or the handsome man with the haughty smirk.
Tyler
...I’m coming, baby
.
She c
rumbled. Her knees cracked on the sidewalk sounding like twigs snapping. Her hand slowly rose to her neck, feeling the warm liquid pulse through her fingers. She panicked for a moment, then silence took hold of her and she felt no more pain, no fear, just peace.
The next morning I woke up alone. I heard Cole talking in the next room. Then the delicious aroma of fresh brewed coffee drew me out of bed. I walked into the bathroom to perform my morning ritual. I slipped into the matching robe to my negligee and walked down the hall into the living room. The fireplace was roaring, its warmth spreading through the cavernous room. My silk robe clung to my skin, caressing my legs with each step. Cole glanced up as I approached, thrusting both hands through his hair. He looked exasperated.
“Hey,” he said softly
, holding his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “You okay?”
“
Yes. What’s up? You look like you’re really stressed.”
“Good morning to you
, too.” He poured me a coffee as he decisively altered his expression.
“Here, sit and drink this
. You look like you are still asleep.” He put my inquiry on hold. “I’ve got a few calls to make. Drink your coffee then we’ll eat.”
“Sure.”
I grabbed the proffered cup adding sugar and cream then lifted the steaming cup to my mouth and moaned in ecstasy. “I love the coffee here. I may never leave.”
Watching his face
for a reaction, any reaction...I got nothing.
He
was visibly anxious as he walked out of the dining area through the swinging door that led to the kitchen, a room I’d not yet seen. Curious, I stood up and tiptoed toward the door. I heard him talking; he was irritated, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying or who he was talking to. I was tempted to put my ear against the door, hoping to hear something that would give me a clue.
I listened intently but it seemed, from what I was able to ascertain, he was giving directives to someone, and didn’t sound happy. Must be work related. His voice was somewhat muffled but I could swear I heard him say
security 24/7, start immediately, team together
. Out of context I had no clue what he was talking about.
You don’t
have to know every single thing, Nosey Nellie.
I admonished myself sounding eerily like my mother.
I walked back over to the table and sat down.
I lifted my feet onto the seat across from mine and took another sip of my delicious coffee praying the caffeine would wake me up. Yawning again I looked around noticing the open newspaper. I pulled it over to me, trying to get a clue to what got him all moody…
stock prices falling?
T
he story of the recent murders in the City was front-page news. Suddenly remembering the headlines the day Cole left, I shuddered. The woman murdered in Central Park, along with two others, were pictured. I heard him coming back and for reasons unknown to me, I quickly pushed the newspaper back to where it was.
If there is something he wants t
o share with me, he will.
“Are you hungry?”
He seemed to be back to his cheerful sexy-as-hell self, albeit mercurial.
“For what exactly?”
I asked him, my nipples hardened. He could do that to me, just saying something, anything, in that smoking sexy voice and I’d get all hot and bothered.
“Food
, Grace,” he chided me, all the time smiling. “I want to take you on an outing today, out of the City. Providing you have no other plans.”
I
quickly smiled. “I’ve cleared my calendar, Ace. Whatever you have in mind is more than fine with me.”
I
should call both my mother and Michelle to let them know I was still breathing; I felt a little guilty for leaving the charity event the way I had. I should call and apologize. “‘Very unbecoming,” she would say. In my defense…I had no defense, but knew they must both be worried about me.
“I don’t have plans but I do need to call my mother and
Michelle to let them know I’m still alive.”
I saw the look on his face. It was lightning quick, there and gone, but I saw it
.
Fear…but afraid of what?
“
Of course,” he answered, looking thoughtfully down the long hall then back to where I was standing. “I need to check on a few things downstairs. Use my office,” he said pointing. “The second door on the left, down that hallway.”
I
was surprised there were other rooms beside the rooms I’d seen. This place was tremendous. I’d love to go exploring.
“Thanks.
I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Take your time
. I’ll be back.”
I
unplugged my cell, tossing it into my pocketbook, and picked up my coffee on my way to Cole’s office.
Opening
the door to the office I stepped in, noticing immediately the noiselessness within. I turned around, stunned to see such a large room. It was bigger than my living room and far grander. The walls on both sides were covered floor to ceiling with built in bookcases made of beautiful dark cherry. A large beautiful cherry wood desk, the centerpiece of the room, had a backdrop of floor to ceiling windows.
The
elegant burgundy and gold jacquard curtains and gossamer cream-colored silk sheers, the frame, the view of Central Park below, the artwork. The carpet an antique Persian I believe was thick beneath my feet. Behind the incredible desk stood a burgundy tufted leather chair with a curved high back. I spun around and spotted four armchairs, two in front of the large majestic fireplace and two in front of the desk, and between them a lovely carved table topped with an exquisite antique lamp. The wide, highly polished wooden mantel was of the same beautiful dark cherry as the bookcases.
I
heard the front door close and presumed Cole left the apartment.
On t
he table in front of the fireplace stood a beautiful bronze sculpture of a nude woman holding a baby to her breast. I looked up and on the mantle I saw a three delicate glass sculptures alongside a small collection of elegant picture frames. My curiosity was piqued so I walked closer to get a better look.
The faces
staring back at me were both familiar and captivating. Cole never spoke of any, but here were pictures of what appeared to be his family. One of a very beautiful woman with a familiar smile, and intelligent green eyes, the same color as Cole’s. She sat straight, her arms wrapped around the waists of two handsome boys, devilish delight on their faces; the older boy was Cole, somewhere around ten to twelve. Behind them stood a tall, broad shouldered, ruggedly handsome man, his large hands resting possessively on the woman’s shoulders. His kind smile touched his warm brown eyes, his hair the same thick black as Cole’s. It was a charming family picture. Everyone looked contented to be with one another. The pride in the man’s eyes was clear. I felt a strange longing to know them, to meet them.
Another
picture stood next to it, a picture of the same man and woman in wedding attire taken much earlier. The man was dressed in a crisp brown suit, the woman in a beautiful simple cream colored gown, her dark brown hair piled high on her head. Her beautiful green eyes stared unwaveringly at the man and his gaze was locked on her, both so in love. I wanted to feel like that. I wanted to know that depth of love. My mother had it with my father, but became someone I didn’t know after marrying Franklin.
I
was curious why Cole never mentioned them. Where was his brother? His parents? Why no pictures after the one of the four of them? Were they estranged? I felt a bit voyeuristic. I had to force myself to turn away, a strange feeling of emptiness flooding my heart.
I composed myself
quickly, remembering what it was I came in here to do. I fumbled inside my pocketbook, found my cell and pushed the button turning it on. I gasped when I saw thirty-two missed calls from my mother.
Holy hell, that has to be a record, even for my obsessive, crazy mother
. I only hoped nothing happened to her or her “husband.” I also had six missed calls from Michelle. I pushed send; hearing the phone ring, I braced myself for her anger. She picked it up on the first ring.
He was angry, his head pounding with each heartbeat. He picked up the untraceable cell phone he’d bought, flipping it open and closed. His hands sweaty, the tick in his eye became noticeable as he stared at his reflection. He dialed the number.
“Hello.”
A woman with a slight Spanish accent answered.
“Katherine Chancellor
,” he demanded.
“Who is calling
, please?”
“
Spencer Harrington.” He got the name from the internet; Spencer and Katherine both chaired some charity or something like that.
“Hold one minute
, please.”
Wiping
his sweaty hands onto his pants, he shuffled from foot to foot.
“Hello
, Spencer.” It was
her
voice. He shook with anticipation.
“Katherine.”
He used his whisper-like raspy voice.
“
Spencer?” She seemed confused. “You don’t sound well. Are you ill?”
“No.”
He now spoke in his own voice. “Let me warn you, if you care about your daughter Grace, you will not hang up.” He heard her intake of breath and smiled.
“Who is this?”
Her voice sounded stressed. “Where is Grace? Have you done…” She trailed off, realizing what she just asked.
“
Who am I? I’m the bastard
you
gave away, like trash many years ago.” He admired his perfect teeth in the mirror. They were white and perfectly straight as he smiled.
