Chosen by a Killer by Laurie Nave (read e book txt) 📗

before, she had received several calls from someone whose number was marked “Private Caller.” She knew it was him, and these texts were probably him as well. How was she supposed to block him when he could just spoof another number or get one from an app? Celia screen-shotted each notification. She would read them when she returned to her office.

After locking her door and settling in her chair, Celia opened the string of messages. Just as she suspected, they were from Bart.

“Please talk to me.”

“You blocked my number. I had to use another one to reach you.”

“Why are you ignoring me? What are you afraid of?”

“You can’t just unilaterally cut me out like this!”

“Who are you screwing now? Where are you?”

“Your car is not at work. Who are you with??”

“I’m not going anywhere! Talk to me!”

By the time Celia got to the last message, she was angry. What was wrong with him? She wished she had never agreed to go on the first date with Bart. Part of her thought she should be a bit afraid, but she was so mad, it overrode any sense of fear. He was not going to disrupt her life. She took a screenshot of every message before deleting them. She deleted the number as well. Yes, he’d probably get a new one, but she wasn’t going to change her number; she’d had it for years. What a pain in the ass it would be to have to change it and notify everyone. Bart didn’t deserve that kind of effort and inconvenience.

Pushing Bart to the back of her mind, Celia began to listen to her interview with Natasha and add to her notes. She had no doubt what Natasha would do if confronted with a man like Bart. Celia chuckled. The death penalty was way too high a price to pay for a pathetic man with a bruised ego. She’d had to think of something else to deter him.

At 4:00, A knock interrupted Celia’s progress. “Yes, who is it?”

“Gladys poked her head into the office, and her expression was full of worry. “There’s someone here to see you, but I’m not sure he is who he says he is.”

Celia closed her laptop. “Who does he say he is? Atilla the Hun? I’ve never seen you so pale.”

“He says,” she paused and looked behind her. “He says he’s your father.”

“No way.” Celia sighed and walked to the door.

It was her father. He was thinner, and he had less hair, but it was definitely him. He looked almost as concerned as Gladys. “I’m sorry to just show up. I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it. But your landline was disconnected.”

“You might as well come in,” Celia sighed, opening her office door a bit wider.

“Should I bring in coffee?“ Gladys asked.

“No,” Celia said sharply. “Sorry, we won’t be here long.”

Celia’s father, Stewart, looked around the office as he sat in the chair she offered. He couldn’t meet her eye, and Celia had to admit that satisfied her a little. She didn’t sit in her chair. Instead, she sat in front of him on the edge of her desk, wanting to be taller than he was. “So why are you here?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Really, after all these years, you needed to talk? What happened to your new family?”

Stewart winced. “She left me. She left me two years ago.”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“I deserve that.” Stewart sighed. “I deserve much worse after what I put you and your mother through.”

“You don’t get to talk about mom. If that’s what you came for, I think we’re done.”

“Wait,” Stewart pleaded. “I need to talk to you about Melina’s sister.”

“Why in the world would I want to talk about your hygienist’s sister? Is she why your new wife left?”

“No, well, possibly. But not for the reason you think.”

“Then what? I have work to do. It’s a paper. We have deadlines.”

“Her sister’s name was Judith. Judith Vandiver.” He looked at Celia, expecting the name to mean something to her. “She’s Bart Vandiver’s late wife.”

Celia opened her mouth, but she didn’t speak. It wasn’t what she’d expected her father to say. The walk back to her chair gave her the chance to hide her shock, and she sat slowly. “So you were married to Bart’s wife’s older sister? Did you know him? Does he know you?”

Stewart shook his head. “I met him once, at a family gathering. They didn’t stay very long. I got the idea he didn’t want to be there at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they eloped, for one thing. Melina’s family wasn’t happy about that. And after they were married, Judith hardly ever visited. I know her parents traveled to where they lived, but they seldom came to town to see the rest of the family.”

“Maybe he didn’t feel welcome.”

Stewart frowned and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I know it’s a touchy subject, but Melina’s family was very kind. Even though...” he cleared his throat. “Even though Melina and I got together in the most selfish, wrong way, they accepted me.” He looked down at his hands.

Celia wasn’t moved by his discomfort at all. “Good for them. So why are you here?”

“Well, her parents never thought her accident was an accident. And Bart has shown up at some events lately.”

“I know. He said they were still close. He was trying to be supportive.”

“That’s the thing.” Stewart sat forward. “He wasn’t. He didn’t even want them to see her body. He wanted her cremated. It was the hospital that called them to tell them she’d died, not Bart.”

“Well, I’m sure he was pretty upset,” Celia said the words, but she wasn’t sure she believed them.

“And the weirdest part? She was planning on leaving Bart.”

“How do you know that?”

“Melina told me. She asked me if Judith could stay with us, and she wanted it to be a secret.”

Celia looked at her father. He seemed sincerely worried. And yes, it was sort of nice that he cared about something having to