Black Widow (32 page)

M
y head pounds from the day’s stress. After leaving the jail I came back to my office to go over the CSI evidence that they dropped off while Preston went to his office to check in on things.

We definitely have enough here to form a shadow of a doubt that Preston didn’t murder her but just because I’m working on the case of my best friend’s murder, I need to find out more. Normally my only goal is to make sure my client is off but this is different. This case I want to, no, I need to find who did this.

I need those names.

I know it’s not the right thing to do but I’m cornered and right now this is my only lead. So gripping my hands tightly around my purse, I head out of my office before I change my mind, and head straight to Bridge.

It’s amazing how different it looks during the day. I still park in the same place, away from everything and look around as I walk down the alley to the entry. To my surprise, the place has a very simple padlock holding the warehouse door from swinging open. Reaching up, I pull the bobby pin that’s holding my hair back at the front and head to work on trying to pick the lock.

After only a few attempts the lock pops open, sending nervous chills of excitement through my body as I question if I should really go through with this? Preston could hate me at the end of this but at the same time, if I don’t get him off this murder charge he could be in jail for the rest of his life.

It’s a risk I’m willing to take.

The door pops open and an eerie feeling washes over me as I enter the room that’s only lit from the small cracks in the window coverings that cover two of the four walls. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for so I walk around, looking behind the bar or around the room for any closet that could hold some information.

A door at the back catches my eye and I walk up to it, slowly pulling the door handle open to see a small desk and a filing cabinet.

Jackpot.

The cabinet is locked so I try my magic at picking the lock again, successfully getting it open only after a few minutes. Inside I find folder after folder with a name on each one. Pulling out the first ten or so, I turn to sit as his desk and go over who each member is as quickly as I can.

My hand reaches for a tiny lamp that sits on his desk and when it switches on a vision of myself stares back at me. On his desk, laying flat is a picture of me. It’s my Facebook profile picture that he’s printed out and placed under a clear mat that lies on his desk with nothing else underneath it.

I’m not sure whether I should be extremely touched or feel even more guilty right now for breaking his trust. He keeps saying that he needs me but I didn’t realize like this. I’ve been telling myself that it’s only sex that he
needs
but lately I can’t deny the truth I see in his eyes and this just proves it even more. And if I’m honest with myself, lately I’m having an even harder time not spending every waking moment thinking about him.

Before I look at any of the names, I grab the files and put them back. I’ve already lost someone important to me from not being truthful. I’d be lying to myself if I said Preston wasn’t becoming important to me and I’m not about to risk losing that special someone again.

As quickly as I can, I close the door and walk out of the office, then the building, securing the lock behind me, walking away hoping Preston will never find out.

Once I’m back at my office, a familiar music beat coming in from outside my closed office door catches my attention and before I know it, my door opens up to Angie dancing her way inside, clapping her hands as the song demands.

Breaking out in an instant smile, I stand up singing, “I’m gonna love ya. Until you hate me!”

Angie sings back, “I’m gonna show ya, what’s really crazy!”

And just like that, Angie and I are repeating our office dance party from a few weeks ago, dancing our hearts out, jumping around and singing at the top of our lungs.

W
hen I got notification on my cell phone that the silent alarm from Bridge had been tripped, instantly I thought whoever was trying to frame me was inside Bridge. Even though the place is behind my showroom, it’s around the corner and not so easy to get to quickly. I ended my phone call with a client quickly and headed straight toward the door to finally nail whoever this was.

What I didn’t expect to see was Kamii coming out of the door, looking suspicious as hell and getting in her car to leave in a hurry. Thankfully, she didn’t see me but I sure as hell saw her.
Why would she break into Bridge?

Whatever she wanted from there she got fast. She couldn’t have been in there for more than a few minutes. Now what do I do? Confront her? She broke my trust, in a time where I feel like I can’t trust anyone.

I walk to the door of Bridge and notice it’s locked up and if I hadn’t installed that alarm I would have no clue the door was tampered with at all. Reaching for my keys, I unlock the padlock and enter, searching for any clue as to why she was here.

Then it hits me. The names.

Every member has a file here and I pray to God she didn’t break the trust that every member here has in me by revealing their names. When I open my office and unlock the cabinet, I can tell the files have been tampered with and blood boils up my face, beyond pissed off.
How could she do this?

I have to confront her about this so I head straight to her office.

No one is at her assistant’s desk and her door is slightly propped open so I open it all the way only to see Kamii dancing around the room to the music beat that I’ve been haunted with ever since Becca’s murder.

“What is going on in here?” I yell, spitting my anger toward her.

“Oh, Preston,” she laughs.

She laughs? What the fuck?
“What’s this song? Are you fucking with me?”

Yeah, she senses my anger now and so does her assistant who stops the song instantly and shows herself out of Kamii’s office.

“Preston, what are you talking about? Why are you so angry?” Though her words are strong her body language is shifty and I know she’s nervous.

I walk up to her, ready to accuse her of everything. “You are aren’t you? You’re the one fucking with me?”

She snaps away from me, ready for this fight to happen and I promise, I’m not backing down.

“Have you lost your mind? What are you talking about?”

“It is you isn’t it? You’re the one who killed Becca? You knew all about how to fake fingerprints and hell, you’ve had more than your share of opportunities to get my sperm. Fuck, how did I miss it? Of course you
found
her… Goddamn girl, you had me fooled. But why, why would you kill Becca?”

“Ok, you need to stop right there. I have NO CLUE what you’re talking about but you have lost your mind? How dare you accuse me of killing my best friend.”

“I bet you did do it. I can’t trust you for anything. Why the hell did you just break into Bridge?”

Oh yeah, guilty as hell. That face says it all. “Preston,” she holds up her hands in defense, “look, I’m sorry. I’ll admit that. I did break into Bridge, but I’m just trying to help you. I wanted those names but I promise, I didn’t look. Once I was there, breaking your trust meant more to me than finding out those names so I didn’t look. I promise.”

How can I believe anything she says right now? “But now you’re haunting me with that damn song.”

“What?
Black Widow
…?” she points her hands up like she’s pointing to the ceiling and the music that is no longer playing.

“Ha! Black Widow. Fuck. That can’t get any better. That’s the name of this song? That’s what you are, aren’t you? A Black Widow.”

“What the FUCK does that mean?” she bites back at me with pure evil radiating out of her pores.

“You heard me. That is you, huh? Why don’t you tell me what really happened to your precious husband?”

“How dare you bring up my husband and how dare you accuse me of murdering my best friend. Get the fuck out of my office!”

“No! I’m not leaving until you tell me the truth. You killed her just like you killed your husband.”

“How. Dare. You. Who do you think you are? Here I am saving your ass and you accuse me like this. All because of a song? You have officially lost your mind. Maybe you do deserve to rot in hell!”

Holy shit. She’s right. What the fuck am I thinking? Did I really just accuse her of killing Becca? Because of a song?

Officially deflated, I sink into the chair in front of her desk placing my head in my hands. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you are! Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now but how dare you come into my office and talk to me that way.”

“I know. I know. It’s just. I saw you at Bridge, and I still can’t believe you broke into my place. Why?”

She sits down next to me, “I know. I’m sorry, too. But I did. I went there to find those names. I need to find out who that woman is. Right now she’s our only lead and I think she’s tied to Trevor.”

My eyes are heavy with guilt as I look at her, “Please, just don’t. You know I can’t. And please, forgive me. I’m under a lot of stress and that damn song is haunting me.” I place my head in my hands, shaking it back and forth.

“What are you talking about? How is a song haunting you?”

“At first I thought I was losing my mind but it kept happening and I didn’t know what to think.”

“Preston, you aren’t making any sense.”

“I hear the beginning of that song, that Jamaican drum beat but there’s no clapping. It plays, over and over again every time I’m home. I hear it so faintly, like it’s coming from the other room but when I go to that room it sounds like it’s coming from the room I was just in.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s the problem. I have no clue. I thought it was some crazy ringing in my ear since I couldn’t figure it out but when I heard it right now when I walked into your office I just snapped. It’s been driving me nuts and I had that crazy ah-ha moment the second I heard it. I’m so sorry you were on the other side of it.”

“I get you’re under all this stress but that doesn’t explain what’s going on. What do you mean you’re hearing this beat play in your house?”

“I know… it’s crazy right? But I hear it and it seems like it moves throughout my place.”

“Has anything else odd been happening?”

I pause, trying to think when something finally clicks, “Now that I think of it, yeah. Every time I walk in my place I have the weirdest sensation come over me. I can’t explain it. It’s a smell or a feeling, I don’t know. It’s something I’ve felt before but I just can’t put my finger on it. It reminds me of something though.”