It's bad manners to say 'I love you' with a mouth full of lies. ~Nikita Gills
~**~~**~
"Four months ago, Silvia Praxton was Silvia Emblem. She was married to a hotshot lawyer-- Mateo Emblem. Emblem worked at a firm called Jameson & Kirk. At a company party in July, during his speech, Mateo Emblem was shot to death, his 'loving' wife standing feet away."
V.C. paused to collect her thoughts.
"The case is still open. You see, the security cameras were 'conveniently' off and during the commotion after the gunshot, no one got a look at the shooter, not even a vague description. The local police searched for three months, but after no leads, it was closed."
Even V.C. in all her disrespect of the law knew that that the local police were better than that. Something was suspicious.
Continuing, she added, "All of his accounts were unfrozen and his will was fulfilled. Ms. Praxton ended up with a nice handsome sum of $1.5 million and a chateau in the South of France. Shortly after, she left the city and moved to Rinshawn for a 'quiet' life, supposedly . . ."
Jack tilted his head, intrigued. "Surely the homicide squad would have investigated his wife even if she didn't physically do it. Mercenaries are easy enough to buy if one has the cash."
Shaking her head, she responded, "They did, went through all her financials, looked into her friends, family, ex-husbands. Nothing. Nothing that could tie her to the murder of her husband." She drifted off.
It was silent for a few minutes before Jack asked, "You never explained why you were in the house, or why you care so much about a cold case. I doubt you're investigating Emblem's murder out of the goodness of your heart."
V.C. raised her eyebrows and leaned forward to Jack. "Oh, Commander, you wound me. But you're right. As it turns out, Mateo Emblem had a son who wasn't too happy that his father left the young widow so much money and a mansion. About a week ago, he contacted Kingmaker to fully investigate Silvia Praxton for the murder of her late husband. "
"So let me get this straight: you think that Silvia Praxton, the former Mrs. Emblem, hired someone to kill her husband so she could collect on his will, but you can't prove it. And now four months later, someone is trying to kill her."
"Yep. That about covers it."
"Alrighty then." Jack slapped his knee as he rose and turned to leave.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"To see if your story checks out. Sit tight, Nancy Drew, I'll be back soon."
"Don't I get a phone call or something?!"
~**~~**~
Silvia Praxton sat alone in a tiny room in the Rinshawn police station. Her hands hadn't stopped shaking since she had awoken on her living-room floor. She remembered that moment in crystal detail; she had thought she was going to die.
A man had loomed over her, a boyish face and a skinny body. Upon seeing him, she had let out an ear-splitting scream that would have shaken the windows— if they hadn't already been shot out. The man himself was startled and stumbled back. He had hurriedly introduced himself as Officer Thomas Pierson.
Pierson had explained to her that he was there to protect her.
The next fifteen minutes had been a whirlwind of events; she hardly remembered a thing until she was being ushered into the back of a police cruiser. After the Sheriff had patted her on the back and told her it probably was an accident, he abandoned her to her own devices.
But Silvia knew that it wasn't an accident.
She knew that it was only a matter of time before the perpetrator tried again. Silvia sunk her head into her hands as the terror surrounded her.
A knock roused her from her despair. A moment later, the door opened, and in walked a man.
His broad shoulders blocked the light from the hallway as he entered. Silvia swept her gaze up to his face and her eyes widened. A Grecian god was staring back at her; his nose long and straight, and his piercing cobalt eyes sparkled with determination. The stubble on his jaw covered his face in a standard five o'clock shadow and accentuated his lips. He looked like the kind of man whose skin was always golden, even in the midst of winter.
The stranger towered above her and reached out a large muscular hand. "Commander Jack Rhodes," his voice rumbled.
She ducked forward to grasp it in her own shaky hand. "Hello, Commander," she said tentatively.
"Ms. Praxton, I'm here to discuss exactly what happened at your house this evening. I know that it's late and you're probably tired, but we need to go over this while it is still fresh in your mind."
Silvia nodded and tried to control her tremors. She quickly recounted her experience with sparse details.
After she was finished telling the man everything she had told the Sheriff, she looked up expectantly. While she talked, he wrote down a few notes on the legal pad in front of him. However, when she had gotten to the part about fainting, he paused and set down his pen.
"Ms. Praxton— " He started.
"Silvia. Please, call me Silvia."
"Ms. Praxton," the man began again, "What can you tell me about the death of your husband, Mateo Emblem?"
Silvia felt her stomach heave and palms sweat. Since the Commander had come into the room, she had managed to calm down. Howbeit, now, her anxiety came rushing back like the surf against the shore.
It pounded through her veins, surrounding her heart and squeezing, suffocating her with its powerful hold. Her breath was coming in short quick pants and black crept into her vision.
"Ms. Praxton? Ms. Praxton?! Are you all right? Here!"
A paper cup of cold water was forced into her hands and she quickly gulped it down. A hand to the back of her head pushed it down between her knees. Silvia slowly felt her vision return and her pulse slow from its thundering pace.
Minutes passed until she felt well enough to raise her head and brace her elbows on the table. When her vision cleared, she stared at the handsome man. He asked her if she was all right and she nodded halfheartedly.
"Ms. Praxton, I know this must be a difficult time for you, but please tell me about your husband."
Silvia reigned in her breathing and opened her mouth to reply. "My husband, Mateo, was a wonderful man. He was a lawyer, a promising one; he was set to make partner before. . .before his death." She paused to wipe away some tears gathering in the corner of her eye. "It was at a party held by the firm every year. Mateo and I always went. He used to joke that the only happy people at the party were the caterers. Mateo was giving a speech this year. Everyone was a little tipsy when he started. He was about five minutes in when . . .when— " Silvia dissolved into tears before she could finish her sentence.
"Ms. Praxton, I'm sorry to make you relive this, especially today, but I need to know what happened."
Silvia sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I apologize, Commander Rhodes, I don't normally act like this."
She continued in a soft tone. "It was about ten o'clock and Mateo was giving his speech when a bang rang out. I thought it was fireworks at first--it was so loud. But then Mateo dropped to the stage and blood started to bloom from his chest. I tried to get to him; I really did, but one of the other lawyers pulled me away and out an exit. The next thing I knew, a detective was telling me my husband was dead!"
Now the sobbing had reached epic proportions and tears rolled down her face in swift currents. The Commander awkwardly passed her a couple of tissues and rose from the cramped table.
"Thank you, Ms. Praxton. I appreciate your willingness to talk to me. An officer is going to come by and get you settled in for the night. We're going to catch the person responsible; there's no need to worry about that."
With a pat on the shoulder, the man turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
Once again, Silvia was left by herself in the crowded space. She let her mind wander to what the Commander had said. He seemed like a man who wouldn't let this case go.
Unfortunately for her, his tenacity might be the one thing that would kill her.
~**~~**~
A/N
Next chapter is "Maybe You Should Have Frisked Me"
V.C. preferred things a little bit more. . . gray.
The law was more of a guideline than a strict set of rules.
A suggestion, really.
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