Angel didn't sleep a wink the previous night. Thoughts swirled through her head along with the alcohol. The combination made her all the more hungover the next morning. She got up and went to her grandfather's bookshop in the city at about one, still as paranoid as ever.
She now sat behind the counter, jumping at every creek of the floorboards and every bird singing and every person laughing outside the shop. She rubbed her eyes and grabbed a pile of books, getting up and walking to the mystery shelf and started putting them in.
"Calm down," she whispered to herself and nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the sound of a little girl's voice and her tapping her little fingers on her back.
"Excuse me," she said and Angel smiled, calming down for a bit. "Where are the children's books?" She batted her little eyelashes and swayed on her ballerina flats.
Angel bent down and pointed towards the shelves at the back of the shop. "They're all back there, honey," she said and grinned at her. "Just shout if you need my help."
The little girl nodded her head, her golden locks bouncing like a slinky. She turned around and skipped towards the back of the shop and Angel sighed. She turned around and saw her grandfather walking through the front door, the little bell signaling his presence.
He winked at her. "Everything alright?"
No.
"Sure," Angel said and walked back to the counter.
Her grandad squinted his eyes at her and Angel gulped, realizing that his eyes are traveling to her shaky hands.
"Are you sure, Angel," he asked.
Angel waved him off and tucked her hands under her chair. "I'm fine, grandad," she lied through her teeth. "Just tired from everything, you know, being a first year isn't easy." She gave a small laugh.
Her grandad nodded his head and turned to dust off a shelf with his hand. "Okay," he sighed. "Just let me know if there's anything."
She nodded her head and had a burning desire to ask him if she could stay with him in his apartment, but felt like that would sound suspicious. Besides, she wouldn't want him worrying at this age. "Thank you, grandad," she said and he nodded his head.
She sighed and stared out the window at the people walking past with shopping bags and business woman and men babbling away at their phones. She smiled at a little boy acting as if he's an airplane, spreading his arms and swerving past an old lady walking her dashund. Angel sighed and thought about asking if Brooklyn would like to walk with her to the shops, just like all these people. Maybe she would feel like there's nothing wrong for a short while.
Angel felt her heart hammer in her chest. It's her. She's walking with a bunch of shopping bags around her, blocking most of her, but her white-blonde hair is noticeable anywhere.
Cathy Braxton.
Angel knew she wasn't crazy. Just then a scream echoed. Angel jumped up, her heart still pounding. "Grandad, could you help the little girl at the back?" She asked, breathing heavily. "I'm not feeling well, I need to go."
She flew out of the shop, hearing her grandad answer with a perplexed "okay" and dashed towards the streets. She stopped in front of a lamp post and scanned her eyes around. She looked left and then right, then backwards and then straight forwards. She found her. She was walking on the other side of the road and nearing an apartment block. The Maximus, one of the most expensive in Fynbos City.
She broke into a sprint, maxing through by passers as best as she could. She tripped over dustbin lid and felt her toe surge with pain, but ignored it. She pushed past two guys chatting and both of them yelled profanities, but she continued running. Her eyes stayed glued to Cathy's white-blonde hair, taking the stairs towards the center of the city, right by The Fountain of Good Fortune. Angel pushed herself to go farther and ran straight into a group of Chinese foreigners. They yapped away in Chinese and she mumbled an apology and continued running. She reached the steps and took them two by two, tripping half way and got up right away. She felt like she would pass out any moment, but she knew that if she didn't find Cathy now, she might not have the chance again.
As predicted, Angel was right. Cathy sauntered into the apartment block ahead of her and Angel kept on running and people stopped throwing coins in the fountain to stop and stare at her. She ignored it and broke threw the entrance, the sound of the glass doors swishing filling her ears. She looked around and saw Cathy walking towards the elevator. She ran forwards.
"Cathy!" She yelled and Cathy turned around and her jaw dropped when she saw Angel.
"Angel," she whispered, a slight panicked look on her face.
Angel stopped right in front of her and stared at Cathy's stomach, now clear as day with all the shopping bags set on the ground. It was huge and not fat huge, but pregnant huge.
Cathy saw her staring and covered her stomach with her hands.
Angel cleared her throat and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "W-why aren't you in France," she asked her face set.
Cathy's face grew more panicked by the second and her hands seemed to tighten around herself. "Who told you that?" She asked, her voice cracking.
Angel still breathed heavily, but didn't dare tear her eyes away. "Brooklyn."
Cathy looked down and bit her lip. She suddenly looked up and grabbed Angel's arm.
Angel squealed and squirmed, fear pulsating through her, her heart started to pound faster again.
"I can explain," Cathy said, looking around, gritting her teeth.
Angel looked around at people staring. "Let go!" She said forcefully.
Cathy let go and Angel stammered back, still heaving. The fear was evident in her eyes.
Cathy looked around at the people around her. She looked back at Angel, her eyes fierce. "I did what I had to do," she whispered, still looking around.
Angel realized with horror that her suspicions was right and stepped back again. "How could you?" She asked, her hand in front of her mouth, her eyes as wide as ever.
Cathy clenched her jaw. "I know it was wrong," she said.
Angel shook her head with disbelief. She reached into her pocket, her hand on her phone, ready to call the police.
"But it had to be done," Cathy finished in a harsh whisper.
Angel shook her head, anger boiling inside her. "What did she ever do to you," Angel said angrily." People snuck glances at them here and there.
Cathy frowned. "What?"
Angel's hands were shaking with anger and fear. "You can't just kill somebody just because you don't like them! And what did I ever do to you? How did you find me? How do you know where I live? How!"
Cathy stepped back at the sound of Angel's voice. Her face was still set in a frown. "What on earth are you talking about, Angel?"
"You just confessed!" Angel spat.
Cathy frowned even deeper. "Yes, I did," she said. "How did you find out about Louis?"
Now it was Angel's turn to frown. "Louis? What? What does that have to do with Dahlia?"
"Dahlia?" Cathy asked, confusion etched in her voice. "What are you talking about?"
Angel gaped like a fish. "Wait. What are you talking about?"
The two stared at each other with the same confused expressions plastered on their faces.
"What do you think I did?" Cathy whispered.
Angel pursed her lips. "What did you do?"
Cathy stared at her and then around them. She moved closer. "Can we talk in private?"
Angel felt her heart beating again. "No!" She said forcefully. "I'll call the police!" She grabbed her phone and held it in front of her, like a protective barrier.
Cathy held up her hands, her eyes wide. "Okay, there's no need for that," she said. "This is private."
Angel stared at her incredulously. "Murder is not private!" She said, heat rising to her face.
"Murder?" Cathy frowned again and dropped her hands. "I didn't murder anyone!"
Angel still held her phone up. "But you just confessed to murdering Dahlia."
Cathy's eyes grew wide and her hands went up. "Woah, I never said that! I confessed to having an affair with a guy while still with Brooklyn and then getting myself pregnant."
Angel dropped her phone and leaned forward. "Huh?"
Cathy stepped closer. "You thought I killed your best friend? Why would you think that!"
"Because you hated her!" Angel countered and Cathy shut her mouth. She wiped her face with her hand and looked at the elevator.
"Can we please go to my room? I promise I have nothing to do with what you're accusing. Besides, you have no evidence."
Angel bit her lip.
She's got a point, she thought.
She looked around and saw people still looking curiously and was thank full that nobody came closer to try and hear more of what was going on.
Angel nodded her head.
Cathy turned around, grabbed her shopping bags and waddled into the elevator, Angel following behind. There was silence as they went to the 3rd floor and they got out, walking down the hall to the last door, number 345, and Cathy unlocked it. Angel still felt fearful walking in and kept herself on alert. Cathy threw her bags on the couch and turned around.
"I did not kill Dahlia Fleming," she said, loud and clear, her face serious.
"Why did you hate her?" Angel asked, crossing her arms.
Cathy sighed and closed her eyes. "I hated her because of Matt," she said.
Angel couldn't quite understand. "What?"
Cathy sat down on the couch and buried her head in her knees. Angel moved closer. Cathy looked up, tears in her eyes. "She stole Matt van Dyk from me," she took a shaky breath. " I was so mad at her."
Angel just stared.
"And I heard she took drugs and my parents being Catholic, I grew up very religious like that, and hated her even more."
Angel looked at her like she just suggested that marrying a duck would solve world hunger. "Dahlia never did drugs."
Cathy looked up at her. "I heard Brad say that she was somehow involved with drugs."
"That can't be," Angel said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of Cathy. She didn't even know she knew Brad. "Dahlia would never do that."
"The point is," Cathy said. "I didn't like her, and since she passed away, I've felt bad."
"Why aren't you in France?" Angel asked, her jaw clenched.
Cathy looked down. "Like I said, my family is Catholic, so the fact that I went and got pregnant before I was married with Louis, would count as a terrible sin, so I wanted to hide it from my family." She sniffed and looked up. "And I couldn't face Brooklyn. I told him that I would be moving to France and can't see him anymore."
Angel stared and then looked away, wiping her face with her hands and pursing her lips.
Cathy looked at Angel. "Why do you think someone killed her?"
Angel got up and started walking to the door. "I'm sorry for the accusation," she said, her hand on the handle, avoiding the question, not wanting to get her involved. "And thanks for telling the truth."
Cathy jumped up. "Wait!" She exclaimed, her hands held out. "Please don't tell Brooklyn, please."
Angel stared at the tears in Cathy's eyes and nodded. "I won't, I promise."
Cathy gave a nod and a relieved half smile.
"Goodbye," Angel said and opened the door. She walked towards the elevator and punched in the number. As soon as she got out, she marched out of the apartment block, her hands in her hair. She felt like her head could burst.
One step closer, two steps back she thought.
At least she went up that one step, though.
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Hey readers! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Some things have been happening and she found out that Cathy indeed didn't kill Dahlia, but who did...?
You're going to have to wait and see!
Comment, vote and read on! :)
Kisses
Cat😽