Chapter Eighteen

Kelly

The next day is Sunday and Talon is determined to go to his house. He wakes up in a sour mood and since he's sweet with me and we had a lovely time last night listening to a live show and then having more amazing sex, I know it's because he dreads seeing the murder scene that claimed his wife's life.

It's strange. Talon doesn't seem like he was in love with her when she was alive, just pretty much going through the motions. Though I guess even if he didn't love her, he had been in love with her at one point, so her death would shake him.

I'm sure he's wondering if there was anything he could have done differently, or if he should have paid closer attention and cut her off sooner. If I were him, I imagine I would be mulling over all the things that I could have done that would have resulted in her still being alive.

I follow behind him, there for support rather than to appease my own curiosity. I dread what we're going to find, and I hate to see the hurt and sadness that he couldn't stop this tragedy from happening to someone he was once close to. I hate that this house he built with his own two hands now represents something so heart wrenching for him.

When we enter the through the front door instead of the scent of dried blood and death that I was expecting, our nostrils are assaulted instead by the smell of fresh cleaning products and bleach. Following our noses, we end up in the kitchen, which is sparkling clean.

Talon notices some paperwork on the kitchen counter. When he freezes, I move forward and read aloud from a neatly printed letter. "Thank you for choosing Las Salinas Aftermath Trauma Cleaning to perform this expedited crime scene clean up. Aftermath Trauma Cleaning is the only fully certified bioremediation specialist in the county. We specialize in trauma cleaning, crime and trauma scene decontamination, biohazard remediation and biohazard removal, as well as blood cleanup. Please see attached invoice."

I'm so shocked that I barely whisper the amount. "Total charges twenty-four-hundred dollars even. They have an online payment portal. All you do is sign in, enter the identification number and a payment screen will pop up."

Bringing the two stapled pieces of paper down to my side, I stare at Talon. "Seriously? You get charged to clean up your own wife's murder scene? I don't understand." I'm furious on Talon's behalf, I can't believe that anyone would be so thoughtless. Okay, things between him and his wife were strained, but what if they hadn't been? Something like this would break a person's heart all over again.

He rakes his hand through his hair and says roughly, "Cleaning up a crime scene is the responsibility of the deceased's family or friends. Clearly my club brothers didn't want me to come home to a bunch of blood and gore.

"I would have taken up a collection so the person I cared about didn't have to pay."

Talon takes the invoice from me. "My club brothers know that I'm not poor. I'd be insulted if they took up a collection for me, like I'm a charity case."

"I guess that makes sense. They seem to know you worlds better than I do."

"Don't worry, you're about to get to know more about me than you bargained for later today."

Although this situation is bizarrely out of sync with anything that could be considered romantic, the tone of his voice sounds more sexy, than threatening. It's like he compartmentalized this whole situation into neat little boxes in his brain. I guess it's his way of coping.

His eyes scan over the invoice again, and he mutters to himself. "It was Serena, Smoke's old lady and Siege's sister. Leave it to her to think of a detail like this."

While he pulls out his credit card and pays the bill on his cell phone, I glance around the kitchen. It looks like it's been decorated by a professional in a sleek minimalist design. Everything is in neutral shades of cream. The stainless-steel appliances gleam in the overhead light. I'm tempted to take a peek in his large refrigerator, but that feels like it might be intrusive, so I just wait while he finishes paying the invoice.

When he's finished, we do a walkthrough of his house. Talon is quieter than usual, which tells me his brain is working overtime, likely trying to see if there are any details the crime scene techs missed. When we go out to inspect the back yard, a woman with light brown hair, angry eyes, and a baby on her hip steps into the yard.

Talon immediately moves in front of me and I can feel him tense up. "What are you doing here, Silvia?"

Silvia, that's his batshit crazy sister-in-law who wanted to accuse him of murder. I don't know why she's here, but whatever the reason, it can't be good.

"I'd heard the house had been released as a crime scene, I came to talk some sense into you. But I didn't realize you were bringing your tramp along for the ride."

"Leave her out of this. I told you to stop contacting me and blocked you on everything when you tried to accuse me of being a killer."

"I didn't accuse you directly. I told the police that maybe you did it. There's a world of difference."

"You want me to remind you about the voicemail you left me? How many years have we known one another? You must know that I'd never do anything like that. That means, no matter whether it was an accusation or a suggestion, it was a lie."

She smirks at him. "If you'd taken me up on my offer, you wouldn't be wanted by the police right now."

"I'm not. I was at the precinct yesterday where they cleared me as a suspect in Sandra's death."

Her eyes flash with anger and she transfers her toddler onto her other hip. "You're a damned liar."

"No," he flings back. "You're a dumb ass who can't keep your story straight." Making a wide sweeping gesture with one hand, he says irritably, "The park captured a freaking image of my license plate coming into the park. I've got a watertight alibi for the time period when she was murdered. There ain't no way they're going to pin this on me, and you'd best get your head around it. I didn't fucking do it."

Before she can respond, I step around to stand beside Talon and ask her point blank, "What do you know about the automobile accident your sister had two years ago, the one that messed up her car and left her bruised?"

Shock resisters on the other woman's face and she takes an involuntary step back while protectively cupping the back of her child's head. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Talon's head screws around to give me a look of surprise, because it's not just me who thinks she knows more than she's letting on.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" I challenge her.

Instead of continuing to argue, her will to fight seems to evaporate. "It's water under the bridge, Sandra's dead, let her rest in peace. If you're smart you won't go scratching around in that particular pile of shit." Before I can ask any more questions, she does an about face and walks away to her car.

We both keep watching as she straps the baby into the child seat, closes the door, and practically runs around the car to get to the driver's side. As she speeds away, Talon murmurs, "It sounds like you were onto something with the idea to look at the details of that crash."

"Necessity is the mother of invention," I say.

"Good thinking, Columbo," Talon answers with a thoughtful look on his face.

"I hope you're not going to start calling me that—sweetheart or babe I could deal with, but I don't know if I want to be named for a crabby old detective."

"Whatever you say, Jessica Fletcher. Let's get out of here and enjoy what's left of our weekend. We can come at this fresh on Monday."