Chapter 15 The Truth That Burns
the truth that burns
Kim sat glued to her computer screen, as the local news played in Hamby, reporting about the fire at Paula’s house.
She smirked to herself as she tossed microwaved popcorn in her mouth and thought about all the sex Kayden and Lana had under that roof and how Kayden had kept her trapped in the room downstairs—caged like an animal even after the bitch had gone.
The smile wiped from her face as she remembered standing in the living room, stark naked in only heels, and being turned down flat—it hurt.
A lot. Lana had some sort of mag-ic spell on him.
When Kim learned from Mike that she had gone to Florida and that Kayden had gone to New York, the words made her heart sing.
Silently, she vowed to find a way to make their distance from one another permanent.
Kim grabbed her bowl and sat at her laptop in the kitchen, placing her greasy, salty fingers on the keyboard.
She logged into her Instagram account and checked Lana’s feed first. The bitch hadn’t posted anything in months, not since the engagement ring picture with that stupid smile on her face.
She doubted Lana even had time to go on social media anyway, with all the crying and whining she was so used to doing.
That thought made Kim smile again. She had to figure out a way to convince Kayden to visit her when he got back in town, though.
She had to know if her future husband was OK.
Kim clicked the familiar hacking program on her desktop and ran the program.
Kayden had the computer program removed before, but she had Mike reinstall it remotely, then started it yesterday.
She crossed her fingers as the program loaded.
Surprisingly, his feed began to populate, and she could see his timeline, his re-posts, and likes.
When her eyes fell on the picture that popped up on her screen, a black veil crossed her field of vision, and her chest felt like it was about to explode.
The picture was of Kayden and Lana on a pier at night, holding up the most beautiful black pearl bracelet she had ever seen.
How was this possible? He’s supposed to be in New York!
Why can’t he get this girl out of his life? !
Kim panted like a jungle cat, her eyes narrowing on the timestamp at the bottom of the picture. Posted less than thirty minutes ago! She snatched her cell phone and scrolled to Lana’s name, clicking on the message box and started to type.
Unknown Number: What’s it going to take for you to disappear????!!!!
She pressed send on the message, with no fear of retaliation.
Her little buddy with her ankle bracelet helped her out with the program for her phone.
The gesture was an apology for not disclosing the five-year sentence she faced if caught sneaking out.
Mike had a talking with him and made him see the error of his ways.
She could send messages to whoever she wanted, and within a minute of them opening them, they would be deleted from the phone.
She stared at Kayden’s handsome face and made a decision.
The only way I’m honestly gonna get rid of Lana is gonna be through him.
Kim clicked on the red and white email program on her computer, then clicked on the inbox icon.
No new emails. She’d created an email for her alter ego, Detective Jessica Sloan, and had sent Rachel a few messages confirming her willingness to testify against Maureen.
So far, there has been no response from her.
Kim’s nostrils flared as the anger built up in her all over again, then clicked the spam folder—still nothing.
The plan wouldn’t work unless Rachel cooperated.
She clicked the little “x” icon in the email and decided she would try one more time another day, before taking drastic measures.
Kim wanted to cause a little more mayhem in Hamby before she had to make any possible trips out of town.
She smiled at the computer screen, watching the continued news coverage of the fire.
She strummed her fingers on the box of kitchen matches next to her hand while eating popcorn with the other.
HEATHCLIFF SAT ON the edge of the bed as Maureen dressed for the day. Not many women wore stockings anymore, but Maureen took pride in rolling them up her slim leg. He eyed the delicate procedure in admiration. Kayden had been gone for two days now, leaving them alone up in the loft.
To Heathcliff, the space seemed to be an ice-cold shrine to a marriage long over.
A shrine to the family before being broken apart by a suicide and the lies and manipulation of the matriarch.
Although he had come up there, only to tell Maureen their relationship was over, he decided the news might be a harsh pill to swallow so soon after what had happened.
Besides, Maureen was preoccupied, often gazing out the windows at the horizon or up at the picture over the fireplace.
He didn’t want to add to the despair she was going through right now, no matter how much she deserved it, but it had to be said eventually.
Regardless of how he felt about her, he didn’t appreciate being lied to or kept in the dark.
Maureen walked over to her expansive closet and used a small remote to move the racks of clothing. An automated thing he’d only ever witnessed in TV shows or movies.
“Has Lucian contacted you yet?” Maureen asked without looking at him, staring at the clothes as they whizzed by.
She wasn’t even looking for anything in particular. She was worried about her son.
“No,” Heathcliff admitted, “I don’t think you should send him to Florida, just let Kayden be for now.”
Maureen turned to him, her eyes glazed.
“I just want to know he and Lana are OK. Besides, he has to be here for the procedure tomorrow.”
He stood from the bed, and she sat at her vanity and slowly powdered her porcelain colored skin. He stood behind her and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. She glanced up at him from the mirror and gave him a faint smile.
“He hasn’t returned my calls or responded to my texts,” Heathcliff replied.
“That’s not like him,” Maureen said somberly.
“I’m sure Kayden will be here tomorrow, ready to go. I wouldn’t worry either way.”
“He won’t ever speak to me again,” she replied, as the tears she tried to hold back came down.
Heathcliff knew it would be pointless to try to convince her any differently because she was right.
He gave her another quick kiss on the forehead and walked out into the living room towards the kitchen.
Maureen got up and walked over to her closet.
She opened the door to one of the smaller closets that contained hat boxes and rows of designer shoes.
There was a stool sitting next to an ornate mirror on the wall where she took a seat, reached into her robe pocket, and pulled out her cellphone.
She was going to call Lucian herself, but didn’t want Heathcliff overhearing what she had to say.
Before she could swipe to unlock the phone, a missed call and voicemail message from Paula appeared on the lock screen.
She pressed the message, let the face recognition unlock her phone, and sat in horror as she listened to her daughter’s frantic voice over the speaker.
Not only had someone set her house on fire, but she suspected the culprit was Kim, and honestly, she was the first person that popped into her mind, as she heard it.
Maureen’s hands began to tremble as she moved the phone from her ear and set the device in her lap.
She wrung her hands together, her mind racing, trying to figure out what the hell Kim was trying to prove.
The girl was crazier than Maureen thought, and she had to get her back in check and fast. She picked the phone up again and dialed Lucian.
She needed him to check Kim’s apartment for any evidence she had against her and destroy whatever she had.
Now was the time to rid her family of Kim once and for all.
When his phone went straight to voicemail, she tried her second in command, explained what she needed but didn’t have as much confidence in his abilities as she did with Lucian. Where the hell was he?
Upon hearing Heathcliff shuffle back into the room, Maureen put the phone into her pocket, grabbed a hatbox off the floor, and exited. She didn’t want to keep secrets from him again and planned to fill him in later if there was any evidence to be found at all.
LUCIAN SLOUCHED IN the cold room, and even without his watch, he knew his forty-eight hours would soon be up.
They didn’t have anything on him, and he wouldn’t talk.
Whatever they wanted him to dish about the Capshaws, they could learn from the news or whatever blog the rest of the world used.
Jake Washington walked into the room, holding a cup of steaming coffee, and sat down at the metal table.
He smiled warmly, and Lucian didn’t return the favor.
“I need you to look at this,” Jake said as he slid a file folder in front of Lucian. Lucian slid the folder back towards him.
“No, thank you,” he replied coolly.
“I think you might want to reconsider,” Jake replied. “Coffee?” he asked, nudging his head at the cup of joe.
Lucian could never resist coffee and reached for the cup without a second thought. He took a sip of the steamy brew, and his senses were on fire again.
“In that folder is a case file for the late Rebecca Hartwell, among other things,” Jake continued.
“So?”
“So, we know you were involved. We know the tapes outside the morgue were tampered with, we know Rebecca didn’t drown in her car.”
Lucian’s eyes flicked up to Jake, and for a split second, his resolve waned. The tick was swift, but Jake saw, and Lucian was unnerved by that.
“And this has what to do with me?”