40. Isabella
40
ISABELLA
B ella stared at the grain on the wooden table in front of her. A dark-brown knot caught her attention and it was enough to allow her to drift into a daydream–one where she wasn’t here and she wasn’t being questioned and she wasn’t living this nightmare.
She’d tasted pure happiness, and now it would be ripped from her. She would have to go back to a life worse than the one she’d left. Rags to riches to rags was her roller coaster.
What about her baby? The gnawing, gripping pain in her gut hadn’t stopped since she remembered her crimes.
Camille stepped into the small, gray room, closing the door behind her. Her dark-brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a faded-blue sweater and worn jeans. Even in casual clothing, she held an air of authority wherever she went, holding her head high.
People listened to her. People respected her.
Bella, however, was on the other end of the spectrum. People were listening to her now because she was giving them information. Not only had she confessed to killing, but she’d also spilled deadly secrets she’d once vowed never to speak of.
Her life was essentially over. So what if she told the truth now? No one could come after her while she was in prison. And if they did, would she even care?
Camille sat in the chair beside Bella, and the metal legs screeched across the tile floor. “Okay, I’ve spoken with the detective. Apparently, Justin White’s sister has arrived for questioning as well. She said she did not report his disappearance, but she hasn’t seen him in months. So, the good news is she has no proof, even if she is adamant that you are the one who killed her brother.”
“How could she possibly know?” Bella asked.
Though, it was the truth. Bella knew she’d killed him. That part wasn’t being disputed.
“She doesn’t, and that is our saving grace. She seems to have a problem with you, but fortunately for us that doesn’t mean anything in a court of law,” Camille said.
Bella hung her head. Exhaustion came over her like a thick blanket. After spending the morning with Anna and her mother making wedding plans, then this, a bed sounded like a gift from God himself. “I’ve met her maybe three times. She was never nice to me.”
She’d barely crossed paths with Chloe White at the clubhouse. During those moments she acted as if Bella were invisible. It was almost like a game to see how long Chloe could ignore the person standing in front of her. No amount of kindness had mattered. It certainly wasn’t valued in the club. Who needed it?
Pleasantries? A waste of time. They liked you, or they didn’t. One offered protection. The other often ended in death.
“In other news,” Camille continued. “Apparently, the club had the local police in their pocket, but not the narcotics and vice divisions. Those two teams have been keeping a close watch on the club for years now. So we aren’t starting an investigation from scratch. Given the new information you have provided, they have upped their security and surveillance and are keeping a lookout for any sightings of Justin White.”
“But what if they don’t see him?” Bella asked.
Camille tilted her head slightly and scratched her nose. “That isn’t necessarily evidence, but it also doesn’t help your case. There is no body, there is no murder. Even your confession isn’t evidence. Actually, the inside knowledge that you can offer could get you in the good graces of these two law enforcement divisions. If you can provide information and no body is visually found, you may be able to help them more and they could lighten your sentence. While your inside information is mostly helpful to your case, you also don’t have any evidence. No photos. Nothing.”
“You’re right. I was only allowed a burner phone, and I wasn’t allowed to call anyone except Gunner. Not even the other members of the club.”
“And you threw that phone off a bridge,” Camille said matter-of-factly. “By the way, that was a good move in the moment. Also, the fact that you have not been allowed to have any updated identification is a sign of abuse.”
A loud shout from the hallway caught their attention. It was a woman. An irate woman.
“You have to do something! She killed my brother!”
Bella’s grip on the arm of the chair tightened. The cold metal bit into her palms.
Camille rested a hand on Bella’s shoulder. “Don’t get up. She doesn’t know you’re here.”
Bella sucked in a ragged breath. That woman. All her rage and anger. What would she do if Chloe found her?
Probably the same thing the club would do. Bella was a dead woman. She’d given up all of her chances when she killed Gunner. She’d foolishly thought she could leave it behind if she could get far enough away.
Now, she was a Christian. She knew what she’d done, and she couldn’t continue walking around like nothing had happened. Turning herself in was the only option she could fathom.
So, she’d never had a chance. She’d been doomed from the start.
Camille wrapped her arms around Bella and squeezed. “Everything is going to be okay. I won’t give up. You have to trust me.”
“I do,” Bella whispered against her friend’s hair. “I’m just scared.”
“Rightfully so, but you’re not alone. You will always have people who are here for you.”
There was a small knock on the door, and it opened. Asa stuck his head into the room. “Someone is here to see you.”
Bella froze, gripping Camille’s arm.
“It’s okay. It’s Travis,” Asa clarified.
Oh no. His shift wasn’t over yet. What was he doing here?
“I called him,” Asa said.
“And I called Noah. He went in to finish Travis’s shift,” Camille added, clasping Bella’s hand and lifting her to her feet.
Dread sat heavy in her gut. What could she possibly say to him? He’d been so patient as her memories returned, and now he was going to get the biggest slap in the face. All of his protection was in vain. The only person she needed protecting from was herself. She’d done this. She’d paved this road, and now she had to stay on it.
Without him.
Camille pulled Bella close to whisper, “He’s here for you. You can trust him.”
“Not after this. What if he thinks I knew all along and used him? What if he actually sees me for what I am—a murderer?”
Camille’s eyes narrowed, and a crease formed between her brows. “Stop that. If anyone understands tough decisions, it’s Travis. It’s like you don’t know him at all.”
“I do, but–”
“But you aren’t giving him enough credit. Stop assuming and talk to him,” Camille demanded.
Ugh. She was right. Travis was too good for his own good. He’d stand by her through anything, even if it meant sacrificing.
She couldn’t let him do that. Not for her. Not when neither of them had known what was at stake from the start.
Camille grabbed both of Bella’s hands and lifted them between their chests. “We’re going to pray, and you’re going to give it all to God. Deal?”
Bella chuckled a little. “I can see why you’re such a great mother.”
Camille bowed her head over their hands. “God, I know You’re here with us, but Bella needs to be reminded. I pray that You would calm her heart and give her strength. You are the King of all kings, and You save us when we can’t save ourselves. You’re the Father of forgiveness, and we bow humbly to You. In the name of Jesus Christ we pray. Amen.”
Pressure built in Bella’s chest, and she wrapped her arms around Camille’s neck as soon as she said the last word. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“I won’t stop. I’ll keep praying.”
The door opened, and Travis stepped in. He was still wearing his paramedic uniform, and his chest swelled as his gaze met hers.
Camille stepped back and released Bella’s hands. “I’ll let you two have some privacy.”
Travis closed the distance between them as Camille moved out of the way. Grabbing Bella, he crushed her to his chest and inhaled a deep breath. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Stop. You don’t have to apologize for anything. If he’s dead, I’m glad.”
“Travis!”
“I know I’m not supposed to wish harm on anyone, but if it was you or him, I choose you every time. You did what you had to do, and I don’t blame you for defending yourself.”
A knot clogged in her throat. “But they said it wasn’t self-defense. He hurt me, and I… I attacked him later when he wasn’t expecting it.”
Travis leaned back to look her in the eyes. “I don’t care how the law defines self-defense. You were protecting yourself, and I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to do it for you.”
There was a knock at the door, and Asa stepped into the room. “They’re ready to get started again. Bella, after this, you can go home. It shouldn’t take much longer.”
“Home? Why wouldn’t I have to stay?” It didn’t make sense that they’d let her walk out of this place knowing what she’d done.
“You’re innocent until proven guilty,” he said. “Go home and get some rest. Things like this don’t happen quickly.”
Travis crushed her to his side and turned to Asa. “Thanks for everything.”
Asa nodded. “Anytime. Bella, Lyric has food ready for you as soon as you finish this last interview. It’ll be just a few follow-up questions.”
When Asa disappeared out the door, Travis turned to her. “I’ll be right outside waiting for you.”
She could do this without him. She had to be strong. Soon, she might have to do everything without him.