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What the hell does he want?“Sure, how can I help?”
“Can you open the safe in your office please?”
I walked back to my office and entered my combination and confirmed the entry with my right thumb. The officers pushed me back as soon as they heard the lock click and continued with the invasion of my privacy. My instinct was to start cursing at the top of my lungs when I saw how callous they were with my personal belongings. Pictures of my family were strewn across the floor and officers and crime lab technicians were trampling over them.
I turned to Peter, who saw my frustration. “Take a break, brother,” he said. “I’ll take it from here. Find a room to take a quick nap. You look like shit.”
I walked out of my office as Detective Parker yelled, “And don’t leave the property! We may have some more questions for you, Mr. Brooks.”
“Fuck off.” I had enough. I took the steps to Natasha’s room to see what the wreckage looked like in there. It wasn’t bad; besides the sheets being pulled off the mattress her room was unscathed. I lay across the foot of the bed and covered my eyes with my right hand. I started to silently meditate to keep my head from exploding. I could still hear the constant radio chatter and footsteps on the stairs as they tore through my life with no regard.
I needed to unplug, and that’s when I switched my thoughts to Sam. I imagined her cradling my head in her lap and running her fingers through my hair. I imagined being in a field somewhere far away from this shit. Natasha was laughing, running, and playing while I was nestled between Sam’s perky breasts. We were laying on a blanket beneath a large tree that kept the sun away. The temperature was perfect for a picnic and the bugs were nonexistent. I imagined us having lunch, all three of us laughing and enjoying each other's company. The meditation must have worked because my headache subsided and I ended up taking a nap.
I was pulled from my slumber when I heard a loud crash. I wasn't sure where it came from but I knew that someone had dropped a vase. I was back in my personal hell. I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep the headache from coming back but that didn’t seem to help. I sat up and looked around Natasha’s room, and that’s when I saw a picture of Victoria. I felt sad and was immediately brought back to the day at the hospital. I could still remember the silence in the room, the blood, and the air of death that lingered.
I tried to remember happier times while she was alive but I struggled to find any memories. Were we that unhappy? I started to wonder if she felt trapped in our marriage. Our constant fight about ideology was draining. She blamed me for polluting the planet and I accused her of being a hypocrite. Now with the police trampling the ranch, I could not help but wonder if marrying Victoria had been a mistake. If it was, I would make it again. Natasha was my entire world, the best of me, and the only thing that I have gotten right so far. I couldn’t imagine my world without her.
I decided it was time to head back downstairs to see what was going on. I found Peter in the kitchen talking to Detective Brown. He wanted access to something and Peter was intent on denying it. I stood close enough to hear Peter threatening to call the judge and Detective Brown trying his best to get his request granted. When Peter started dialing, he quickly decided the request was not worth pushing. As he walked away, I joined Peter to find out what was going on.
“This is ridiculous,” Peter said. “They are on a fishing expedition to build a case. They should not be allowed to do this. I am going to have a chat with Judge Nichols after this. I am sure she was not aware that their case was this weak.”
That gave me a little comfort but I had seen enough criminal cases escalate with shoestring evidence. One of two things usually happens: You get dragged through court and your reputation is ruined or you end up getting thrown in jail. Neither outcome is good because the money and business lost in the process is quite substantial.
I was glad neither of my parents was alive to witness this fiasco. My mom warned me Veronica would be the death of me. I never imagined this. “So, what’s next?” I was genuinely curious about our strategy.
“Just wait and see now. They have a theory and based on what they find, they get to proceed or back off. The good thing is they are still looking. If they had found anything they would have packed up and left.”
I was skeptical. “I think they enjoy breaking up my shit.” Peter and I swapped stares. I wanted to take a look at my office to see the damage. As I passed the art room, I noticed Brandon showing an officer the floral painting, why was he showing them the safe? I walked in and that’s when I saw Detective Parker in the room huddled with Detective Brown. “Mr. Brooks, why didn’t you tell us there was another safe in the residence?”
I was annoyed. “I wasn’t aware it was my job to help you put me behind bars.”
Peter quickly stepped in. “It’s not my client’s job to disclose information. He is required to only comply. Would you like access to the safe, detectives?”
I could tell Detective Parker believed I was guilty. “Please.”
I entered the combination and again got manhandled when they pushed past me to see the contents. There was nothing incriminating to find; I had scrubbed the ranch of anything that could be called into question.
Peter and I stood back as the crime scene technicians dusted everything for prints. I wasn’t sure what they were planning on finding. My prints were on everything. I was about to walk out of the room when Detective Brown started asking about a red spot on the partially ripped out carpet in the art room. I was not sure what he was talking about. He called the crime lab technician over to check to see if it was blood. That piqued my interest. Why would there be blood on the floor in the art room, and now that the carpet was partially gone, where did that blood come from? Peter’s face showed his concern.
“Yes. it’s human blood.” Those words echoed in my brain when the crime lab technician confirmed his analysis.
“Mr. Brooks, what happened here?”
Peter stepped in. “My client will not be answering any questions.” My knees went weak. Detective Parker smiled, “Mr. Brooks you have the right to remain silent. Anything you do or say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand your rights?”
I was in shock. Detective Brown had my hands cuffed and I was being led out to the paddy wagon.
“Chris,” Peter said, “do not say anything to anyone. I will have you out in a few hours.”
I didn’t remember much after they read me my rights, I managed to tell Peter to get Natasha from school and take her to his home. I didn’t want her to come home to this mess. As I left the ranch handcuffed in a police cruiser, I saw Sam pulling in. How would she react? She will probably think I am a murderer after all this.
I sat in the back of the car and I now had an opportunity to process what just happened.How did blood get on the floor of the art room? More importantly, whose blood was it?I had so many questions and still no answer. If I could only remember what happened that night. I was in some deep shit now; the cops won’t believe I lost my memory. They found blood in the water and they were getting ready to attack. The only good thing is there was no motive, all the evidence they found had to tie to a story, one that would prove a good enough reason for me to want Victoria dead. There was no motive that I could see.Or was there?
CHAPTER 12
SAMANTHA
Iwas not sure what was going on. I pulled into the ranch and saw a police cruiser pull out with Chris in the back seat. The first thing that came to mind was whether or not I was going to get paid. Thank goodness I had Lizzie set up a meeting with Mr. Sutton. I may not be getting paid for this job. I had to search for a spot to park. There were police-marked and unmarked cars littered all across the pristine cobblestone driveway. Chris’s luxurious cars were now lost among the flurry of activities. I got out of my Buick and made my way to the front door where an officer stood guard. My instincts told me to turn around and leave but my curiosity got the better of me. “Hi, my name is Samantha Walker and I am working on the renovations in a few rooms here.” The officer looked at me apprehensively and told me to wait at the front door. I should have realized that it was time to go, but I waited like a lamb to the slaughter.
