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

but who would she call? Instead, she placed her keys in between her fingers and opened the door slowly.

It was quiet, and nothing looked disturbed. No disarray, no creepy gifts, and no notes. She set down her purse, turned on the entryway lamp, and walked through the kitchen and living area still holding the keys. The hallways were quiet as well. But she could see a glow coming from her bedroom. Her fist closed tightly around the keys as she inched forward. If you’re there, you’re dead. I’m sick of this.

No one was in her bedroom, but the bedside lamp was on, and there was something on her pillow. A flower. No leaves, no stem, just the bud. After looking in the closet and under the bed, Celia swore and grabbed the blossom. She tossed it in the toilet and flushed. Then she checked to make sure her windows were locked. Turning off the lamp, she left the bedroom and headed back to her purse.

Her father’s card was in her wallet. She hadn’t planned to call him, but now she wondered if he might know more about Bart. Was it worth connecting with the man she spent years hating to find out? She closed her eyes and pictured the tiny bud swirling around the bowl before disappearing. Yes, it was. If she was going to get Bart off her back, she’d have to play dirty. And that meant she needed to know more about his past. Celia dialed her father’s number on her cell.

“Hello, um, Dad? It’s Celia. I have some questions. Can we meet?”

Chapter 17

STEWART WAS ALREADY sitting at a small table when Celia arrived at the coffee shop. He was sipping something, and he waved when he saw Celia. She headed to the table without waving back.

“I’m glad you called. I wasn’t sure you would. Would you like something?”

“No, it’s too late for caffeine for me.”

“So,” he started to reach across the table, but hesitated. “What’s going on?”

“I want to know more about Bart.”

Her father frowned and leaned forward. “Has he done something? Has he threatened you?”

“Relax. He’s just being a pest. Trying to intimidate me a bit.”

“I told you he was dangerous. You don’t need to underestimate him.”

“I don’t,” Celia replied. “But I suspect he underestimates me. I can handle him, but I need to know more about his past. More about his possible secrets.”

“Well, it was no secret he was an arrogant ass,” Stewart said. “Judith’s parents liked him well enough, but Melina never trusted him. She said he gave her a creepy vibe. I didn’t know Judith that well, but Melina swore he was changing her. And not by choice.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, apparently Judith was the spunky one, the rebel. She had strong opinions and kind of went her own way. But she was fiercely devoted to her family.”

“And that changed?”

“Over time it did. She went from speaking her mind to being more timid. Eventually, it was almost like she had to look to Bart for permission to say anything. And we saw less and less of her. She told us it was Bart’s career, but she didn’t come to visit by herself either. Melina wondered if he wouldn’t let her.”

“Was he abusive physically? Did you ever see bruises?”

“I never did. Melina never said if she did. But, as I said, We seldom saw her by the end.”

“What about when she did visit? Was she quiet? Nervous? Did she wear long sleeves even when it was warm?”

Stewart nodded. “Now that you say that, yes she did. We had a cookout once, and everyone wore shorts except Judith. She wore pants and a button-down. I remember Judith commenting about it.”

“I wonder if there were any trips to the ER,” Celia said more to herself than her father.

“We’d have no way of knowing.”

“I doubt it. He wouldn’t leave marks you could see or hurt her bad enough to need medical attention. He’d stay under the radar.”

“You’re probably right.” Stewart reached for Celia’s hand. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”

Celia put her hands in her lap. “No, never. If he’d done that, he’d be in jail. I’d know how to ruin him if it was that overt.”

“I really think you need to get a restraining order. Do something.”

“I wasn’t going to, but now that he’s been in my house—”

“Wait, what the hell? He was in your house? Tonight?”

“Not when I got home. But he had been there. I could tell. I’ll have to get new locks I guess.”

“I’ve got a suite,” Stewart said. “Why don’t you stay with me tonight? Stay there until you get the locks changed.”

Celia shook her head. “No, I’m not running away. He doesn’t get that. Besides, I have a meeting first thing in the morning.”

“I could go with you, wait while you pack a bag. You don’t need to be there if he can get inside.”

“I’ll use the chain, and I’ll put a chair against the door if I need to. I’m not sleeping anywhere but my own bed tonight.”

Stewart sighed. “I know where you got that stubbornness.”

Celia smiled without thinking. “From you.”

“You’re right. Dammit.” He smiled. “You’re sure I can’t change your mind?”

“Thanks, but no. You’ve helped though. I know where to dig now. If he’s worried about being exposed as an abuser, he’ll back off.”

They said their goodbyes, and her father left the coffee shop. Celia decided to get a tall latte after all. It’s not like I’ll sleep tonight anyway.

AT 9:00 ON THURSDAY morning, every staff member, reporter, and assistant were crammed into the bullpen waiting for the meeting to begin. The email firmly requesting everyone’s presence was cryptic, and the office had been filled with speculation all week. John was either in the dark about the meeting announcement, or he was using his office to hide from probing questions. He’d canceled all his meetings. On Wednesday evening when Celia locked her own office long after business hours, she’d noticed the light still coming from