I pulled into the driveway of Nora Webbers’ parents’ house and mentally prepared myself for giving them the gruesome news about their daughters’ death.
I looked around at the huge Webber home, and whistled at the sheer size it. With a huge U-shaped driveway that was surrounded by trees, and other various plant life. The house itself is L-shaped, with a huge veranda over the entryway and there are windows everywhere, along the front of the house and what looks to be extended right through to the back.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and slowly emerged from the car, and started toward the door that seemed so far away. I squared my shoulders and held my head high and tried to convince myself that I’ve done worse things than this, but the thought failed to calm my shot nerves, because nothing is worse than telling a parent that their child has been shot and killed, then horrifyingly been defiled soon after death, and what could possibly be worse, is that the police have no idea who did it and why. And that made me want to put my fist through a wall or to do something that would help me figure out who this sick bastard is.
I shook the thought away as I suddenly found myself standing on the porch, in front of the supposed unreachable door. I rang the doorbell and respectively took a step back.
A woman that can only be described as the spitting image of Nora Webber answered the door. She stood at about five-two, with long blond hair, astute blue eyes and a slight slender frame. Her eyes flickered over my badge and gun that rested on my hip and the pained expression on my face. A sob hitched passed her throat, and she doubled over and screamed with such an anguished sound that it felt as if had crawled inside and drop-kicked in the heart. I ducked my head in sorrow as she screamed and cried for her child.
“What the hell is going on?” A deep baritone rumbled from behind the mother of Nora Webber. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her against him. The father of Nora Webber is a solidly built male, thick with muscle and hardened by age, jet-black hair with silver streaks at the temples, a square jaw covered in black stubble and accusatory dark brown eyes.
“I’m sorry Mr and Mrs Webber.” I said quietly.
“How? I want all of the details.” The father growled out menacingly.
I inclined my head in acknowledgment.
“It’s against the rules for me to tell you everything, but screw the rules. But I feel inclined to tell you that you will not like what I have to say, Mr Webber.” I warned.
“Just tell me what the hell happened to my daughter.” He hissed out.
He turned to his wife and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Gwen why don’t you go make some coffee?” He asked her softly. She nodded stiffly and disappeared inside.
He motioned me inside and led down a long corridor with dark wooden doors and family pictures littering the walls. He stopped in front the end at the very end the hall.
He ushered me inside and stalked behind a huge mahogany desk, which had an apple computer, a wireless printer and other framed photos. The office had deep masculine colours, dark wooden walls with black drapes and black/dark grey carpet. A black leather love seat the right corner, and file cabinets lined up against the left wall extending behind the desk and stopping before a next to a painting that looked to be a sketched portrait of Mrs Webber.
He pointed to the seat in front of the desk and sank into the leather office chair behind the desk. Suddenly I had the image of many terrified men sitting before Mr Webber, quaking in their boots and barely refraining from sinking to their knees and begging for forgiveness. I clenched my hands into the sides of the seat to keep myself from doing just that.
“Please just tell me what happened. She was my baby girl. I need to know what happened to her.” Mr Webber pleaded.
I nodded and forced myself to relax into the chair and fought the emotions that continued to swirl inside of me. I ignored the increasing feeling of rage and focused instead on the man opposite me and tried to look for the newfound signs of the grief that he is undoubtedly feeling at the moment.
“I’m sorry sir, but I haven’t had the opportunity to introduce myself.” I extended my hand and leant out of the chair.
“I’m Lieutenant Zyah Malone. I’m in charge of you daughters investigation. If I may have your first name Mr Webber?” I asked smoothly.
He took my offered hand and gave it a slight squeeze.
“I’m sorry Lieutenant. My name is Jaspyn; Jaspyn Webber. My wife is Gwen Webber, my son, Asher Webber and my oldest daughter Lorna Webber.” He pointed to the photos on his desk
I saw a picture of Nora holding a baby girl in her arms; I smiled and picked it up.
“Is she your eldest daughter's child?” I asked pass my smile.
Tears filled Jaspyn’s eyes; he cleared his throat and looked down at his tightly clasped hands.
“No. She’s Nora’s child. Only two months old. Her name is Shiloh.” He murmured thickly.
I carefully put the picture down and slowly sank back down into my chair Anger and determination rose inside me again, making me want to grab my gun and shoot the next person i don’t like the look of. I wanted to get justice for Nora Webber, and right now I will interrogate all the criminals that reside inside and out of the city. I refuse to sit back and wait for evidence to spring up from the middle of nowhere. I want the killer now, and beat the bastard to a bloody pulp, lock him in the smallest cell that I can find and throw away the key.
I quickly snapped away from my thoughts.
And with a deep breath I looked Jaspyn in the eye and told him everything about the death of his daughter. How long she was dead for when I got to her, that her killer is still on the loose and what happened after her death.
I shut up and watched the rising tide of his rage and the murderous storm that suddenly and terrifyingly brewed inside his dark brown/almost black eyes. His eyes grew darker and darker with every gruesome detail about Nora’s death.
I jumped at the sudden sound of cups breaking and female scream ripped through the room.
I jumped out of my chair and spun around. I saw that Gwen had slipped into the room unnoticed and heard everything about Nora’s death.
I looked down at the broken cups lying next to her and the hot coffee that had started to seep into her clothes.
Jaspyn sprang to his feet and hurried over to her and picked her up from the coffee soaked carpet.
“Asher!” He bellowed.
A young man around twenty scuttled into the room and started plucking the broken pieces of the glass off of the floor and placed them into the dustpan he carried in.
Asher has the same build as Jaspyn Webber, same square jaw and black hair but instead of the dark brown eyes, his are an electric blue that look as if they can see right into your soul and see all of the secrets that you have buried there.
Jaspyn shot me an apologetic glance and walked out of the office with the still sobbing Gwen cradled in the circle of his arms. I looked over at Asher and saw that he had ducked his head and was angrily swiping away tears. I strode over to him and silently helped him pick up the glass and dab at the coffee soaked carpet.
“I hope that when you catch the bastard that killed my sister rots in hell.” Asher snapped out.
I smiled a bitter smile and got to my feet.
“I can honestly say that hell would too tame for the likes of him.” I told him bitterly.
“Shouldn’t a cop be a more neutral side of the party? The whole innocent until proven guilty thing?” Came a soft voice from the doorway of the office.
I swivelled around and saw the older and more slender daughter of Jaspyn and Gwen Webber.
With a head full of long golden blonde hair that curled into wild ringlets that stopped halfway down her back. Her molten brown eyes regarded me in wry amusement, framed with thick blonde eyelashes. Her sharp feminine cheekbones had a pink flush and her pink and plump lips formed what to be a natural pout and mad any sane man want to kiss them and see them kiss swollen. The pearl white blouse that she wore complemented the generous swell of her breasts, and the black slacks hugged the hour glass curves of her hips and shaped the long length of her mile long legs.
I took a step away from Asher so that I stood in the middle of the room, I watched Lorna Webber saunter into the office and cross behind the desk and sink into the office chair and regard with a neutral expression. I returned to the opposite chair and slowly sank into it.
“Not all officers are neutral. And its Lieutenant Zyah Malone, Ms Webber” I said smoothly.
She grinned and leant back into the chair and laced her fingers over her flat stomach.
“So tell me,Lieutenant, why you didn’t send a rookie out to tell us about Nora?” She asked curiously.
I laughed softly and tipped my head sideways.
“I came here myself because it’s my job to and because I want to catch the killer and made sure that you all know that.” I said soberly.
She nodded and leant forward to fiddle with the photo of Nora and her baby Shiloh.
“She has to grow up without a mother. She’ll never know Nora what she was like, how her smile affected everyone in the room and that she always loved to have vanilla ice cream in the morning with her cereal.” Lorna whispered sullenly.
I stood up again and offered her my hand.
“I really should be going. Have to get back to the station and fill out paper work. It was nice to meet you and I’m terribly sorry for your loss.” I said as she shook my hand, with soft velvety fingers.
I dug into my pocket and pulled out a crumpled business card and pressed it into her hand.
“If there is anything that you or your family needs; please don’t hesitate to contact me.” I didn’t wait for her to reply. I nodded to Asher on the way out of the office and quickly hurried to my car. I started the ignition and looked back at the office window and saw Lorna peering out through the thick curtains. I gave a half-hearted wave, and drove out of the drive-way.
Images of Shiloh and Nora poured through my brain. There are questions that still needed to be answered by the Webber family, but I couldn’t sit there with the gorgeous and mysterious Lorna Webber and manage to think straight, and running away now only delays the inevitable. Sooner or later I’m going to have to interview her and at the moment? It sounds more appealing than catching Nora’s killer. And that thought alone is enough to make me want to run away with my tail tucked between my legs, because I have no business being around Lorna, but it changes nothing because I know that I’m fighting a losing battle and the prize of said battle? Nora’s killer is behind bars.
I let a grim smile play along the corners of my mouth.
* * *
I scanned the pitch black room, straining my eyes to decipher objects or to identify a source of light, or maybe an outline of a door or a window to climb through, but I couldn’t see a thing.
I pulled my knees up to my chest and lay my cheek on them. I sobbed in loud gasping sobs that echoed through the dark room that bounced back at me, increasing the soul deep anguish that had formed inside me. My heart pounded a tattoo against my rib cage, giving way to the hopeless numbered beats.
I jumped in fright when I loud bang sounded outside of the room I currently resided in. I scuttled to my left and hunkered down, trying desperately to keep away from the taunting noise.
The lights suddenly blinked on, flooding the room in a blinding yellow glow, obscuring my vision. I hastily blinked the foggy tears out of my tears, so I can see who is in the room with me.
Footsteps shuffled in, stopping only mere feet away, and I swore I could feel the body emanating off of the person standing in front of me. I furiously rubbed my eyes, but every time I tried to clear them more tears would pool, blurring my eyesight even more.
I tried and failed.
My sobs became more uncontrolled and louder. I struggled to breathe through every tear, and wipe away the cold hard trickling fear that consumed me, eating me alive.
My breath hitched in my throat at the sound of a loud click, my heart felt like it froze a beat a million rapid beats at the same time, gooseflesh sprouted along the exposed sections of my skin and iced sweat slithered down the base of my spine.
Another loud bang sounded.
And I was free from the darkness and fear, and swam in the perfect white light that carried me up into the cloud kissed sky.
* * *
I stared down at the girl, who just mere seconds ago was looking up at me with teary eyes and desperate pleading. I knew that she couldn’t see who I am because of the crazed and frantic way that she had blindly groped around and rubbed her tear streaked face and eyes.
I smiled at the one single bullet wound perfectly in the middle of her forehead, that the one tiny wound could make such a mess. Cooling blood dribbled down here horror frozen face, staining her features, adding to the foulness of her features.
I reached into my pocket and removed my note pad, I crossed her name of the list and caressed the picture of the girl that is about to be mine.
Only a few more days to go…