19. Nineteen

nineteen

Charlotte

"You quit?" Blaire asked, her eyes growing wider and wider in disbelief. "Why?"

I sighed, refraining from speaking because our waitress had walked up and asked if we were ready to order.

"I didn't completely quit," I said after handing over my menu. "I said the words, but I haven't grown the balls to tell Harley yet."

I explained the situation to Blaire, watching as she nodded along the further I dished out the details, all except for a few main components I still didn't trust her enough to reveal.

"But this is your dream," she said when I was finished. "Just the other day you were spouting this huge spiel over how badly you want to be the new ADA, and now you're going to throw it all away over some asshole cop whose dick is probably the size of this thumb?"

I choked on my water, earning another unbelievable glare from Blaire.

"You can't quit, Charlotte. You've already invested way too many hours into Delilah's case to give it up. And with this new one, it's possible this could be the same guy. I don't have to stress to you what this could mean for—"

"I know, Blaire, I know." I breathed in deeply, knowing she didn't understand, and wishing I could just say fuck it and tell her, but it was impossible. "I haven't fully decided what I'm going to do. I doubt I'll really quit, but then again, I don't know. I'll probably just sleep on it and see how I feel tomorrow morning."

"Or you could just put your big girl panties on and go ask that cranky piss-ant what his problem is."

Little did Blaire know, I already knew what the problem was, just like I knew nothing would get resolved unless the three of us could sit down and talk it out like adults. I didn't want to give up these cases, and Blaire was right, doing so was basically saying fuck my career and everything I'd accomplished. Plus, there was a good chance the man who'd attacked Delilah could be responsible for Amber's assault.

"Like I said, I'll sleep on it."

My phone pinged with a notification, so I glanced away from Blaire long enough to check my phone, finding an email from Dr. Giles.

My lips parted.

Oh, shit.

It was Amber and Daniel Strickland's toxicology results.

Both were dosed with extremely high levels of Rohypnol.

"What is it?" Blaire asked as she took in my wide-eyed, baffled expression. "What's wrong?"

"Amber and her husband were drugged."

I zoomed in on the results and then faced the display toward Blaire.

"Rohypnol."

She lifted her chin and met my gaze.

"That's a date rape drug."

I placed my phone down on the table again, shaking my head in disbelief.

"This doesn't make any sense though. Delilah wasn't drugged."

"So maybe it's not the same guy then?"

"I don't know. It's hard to say when I don't even know what Amber told the detectives. I'm sure they've interviewed her by now. So far, the only thing these two cases have in common is The Flirty Sanctum."

I backed out of the document and double checked the email just in case I'd missed something by mistake, scoffing angrily when a message from Detective Rhodes popped up on the screen. He was apologizing for his partner's behavior and was begging me to reconsider. He wanted to meet with me after work to discuss Amber's case.

"Aww," Blaire gushed. "At least one of them doesn't seem to be an asshole."

I rolled my eyes and didn't bother to respond, opting to drop my phone on the table and rub frustratingly at my eyes, not caring if I ruined my makeup.

I needed a minute to think.

Phoenix was undoubtedly the sweeter one out of the duo, and I hadn't forgotten the look on his face or what he'd said at the precinct. It was evident he wasn't involved with the stunt Spike pulled with Harley, and so, I suppose it would be ludicrous of me to punish him when he hadn't truly done anything to deserve it. It was a lot to consider, but in my heart I knew avoiding it was useless. I had to hear him out and clear the air now that my identity had been compromised. A lot was on the line here.

So, I picked up the phone and replied back, praying I wouldn't come to regret it later.

All Blaire could do was flash me a proud grin when I turned and faced her.

"You're doing the right thing, Char."

I nodded, wanting to believe it as much as she did. "Yeah, I hope so."

Blaire and I went back to the office after lunch, and instead of relaying my outburst at the precinct to Harley, I kept my mouth shut, thrilled she hadn't mentioned her knowledge of it when I'd walked in to give her my report on Amber Strickland's case.

What I didn't expect to see, however, was the case file resting on her desk containing all the information I just spoke about, plus the crime scene photos. That seemed awfully fast given it had only been a little over five hours since Amber had been admitted into the hospital.

"Detective Rhodes stopped in and dropped this off." I blinked wordlessly as she picked it up and handed it over to me. "Daniel and Amber's statements are in there too. From what I've gathered, I suspect Chief is right about the connection. Rhodes tells me you'll be meeting with him later, so I'd like you to go home and start thoroughly picking that file apart. DNA isn't back yet, but Rhodes is hoping to have it no later than this evening. I called and demanded the lab put a rush on it. I want those results ASAP."

"You're thinking it's the same guy," I muttered.

Harley nodded; her jaw irately set. "I do, and I don't have to tell you what that would mean."

I swallowed hard, my heart sinking at the implication.

If she and Chief were right and the DNA matched both rape kits, then we possibly had a serial rapist on our hands, the first Seaview Pines had encountered since Gunther Knox lived and walked along these streets over ten years ago.

"I understand, Harley. I'll get to work on it right away."

I made it home and armed my security system, then slung my purse over on the couch before toting the file inside the kitchen with me, halting when I spotted the package resting right where I left it when I'd walked out the door this morning. On the island.

Damnit.

I said I'd call my parents on my lunch break, and it had completely slipped my mind. The three of us hadn't exactly been verbal thanks to our altercation over my divorce, and I wasn't exactly sure if I was ready to speak to them again after all of that bullshit went down. But they were the only ones I could think of, and I couldn't lie and say I wasn't slightly curious, so I put the file on the kitchen table and then pulled out my phone, sighing as I thumbed out the text.

Did you or Dad send me something? I got a package in the mail with no return address.

I held my breath, waiting.

And then there it was.

Mom: Why on Earth would we send you anything?

It was a low blow, one my heart felt down to each string holding it together.

But no matter how much it hurt I had to force myself to suck in a breath and brush the pain aside. I couldn't let it get to me. I had my answer and there was nothing more I wanted or needed from them.

Saying to hell with it, I approached the package resting on the island and tore it open, blinking down at a white box with the logo from the local flower shop printed on it. There was a small envelope with my first name written in the same sloppy handwriting taped to the box. Somebody sent me flowers.

But who?

My curiosity got the best of me, so I removed the envelope first and opened it, my brows furrowing.

It should've been you.

I gaped dumfounded at the note, not fully sure what the hell that was about, and placed it down to focus on the box, lifting it opento find a stunning bouquet of red and white roses resting inside.

I took a step back then and peeked another glance at the card, barely having time to read over it again before my phone dinged with an alert from my security system. My heart leapt into my throat when I opened the app and found a truck idling at the end of my driveway.

It was Karl"s pickup truck.

"Oh, fuck no," I whispered, scoffing as I gave the evidence a hasty once over before hurling the card and flower box straight into the trash.

It should've been you.

Asin he should've chosen me instead of his secret teenage fling.

That motherfucker.

He had a lot of goddamn nerve.

Maybe it was my anger that had my feet striding toward the front door to glare out the peephole, and maybe I was certifiably insane for opening the door and trudging down the driveway with numbing anticipation, but I'd had enough of this shit.

Blaire was right. Restraining orders really were a bullshit asset to our judicial system.

I should've known better than to think that a fucking ankle monitor would be enough to keep Karl away from me.

"You have ten seconds to get the fuck up and out of my driveway before I call the cops, Karl," I shouted, smirking when he got out of the truck and nervously pressed his back against the metal door, his hands raised and eyes pleading. "Matter of fact, I'm sure they'll be on their way to arrest your ass any minute now."

"Please don't," he called out, raising his hands up and high like he was trying to prove he wasn't a threat.

I stopped moving then and gushed out a furious breath. My driveway was rather long and although Karl was still well within his safety zone, that didn't necessarily mean I was safe. What made it worse was that the closest neighbor was half a mile down the road. I couldn't push it.

I wouldn't.

"A buddy of mine is keeping watch over the tracker for me at the precinct. If you turn me in, I'm done for."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I sneered.

Does he not understand that this gave me even more ammunition to lock his ass up?

"Please, just listen to me," he begged, his voice cracking as he dropped his hands back to his sides. "All I need is five minutes."

I shook my head, not believing I was actually considering this, but what other choice did I have? I had no idea what Karl's true intentions were, and the fact he was risking prison time by being here was a thought I had to admit, did leave me a bit flummoxed. Karl had to have been either extremely stupid or as much as I hated to dare think it… Desperate.

But why?

What was so goddamn important?

"You have two minutes and not a minute more." I pulled out my phone and held it up, waving it around. "I already have Peter's number up and waiting."

Karl nodded and then carefully reached his hand toward his jacket pocket, fishing out what I suspected was a court subpoena—or at least that's what it looked like. It was hard to tell from where I was standing, so I had to squint.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Ben brought this to me a few days before we'd ever finalized the divorce. Kate's parents have been trying to overthrow the department's decision against me for months now. They've hired a private investigator and are trying to have charges brought up against me for vehicular manslaughter, amongst other things."

I let out a scoff, shaking my head as I processed the information.

So that's why he was here.

All because of his dead mistress.

Kate.

"I already know what you're going to say," he started before I could ever get a word out. "And you're right, I have no goddamn business coming here asking you for anything after everything I've done. I know I hurt you, Charlotte, and I'm sorry. I can't take any of it back, but what I need you to understand is that none of this shit—the stalking, the violence—none of it had to happen if you'd have just talked to me and listened. Nobody fucking else will and you're literally the only person I can trust."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Kate and I were being followed, Charlotte. I don't know for how long, but somebody knew we were seeing each other. I was receiving threats because of it."

His words had me inhaling a sharp, trembling breath.

Just what kind of game was he trying to play here?

"I don't have any evidence. I got rid of everything months ago because I thought it was all a bluff at first. But it wasn't. As time went on, Kate started receiving them too."

Karl paused, gulping loudly as he licked his lips.

"She wanted us to run away together, and had I not still been so madly in love with you at the time, I probably would have. But what everyone doesn't know is that I ended things with her, Charlotte. I'd chosen you. I broke up with her the night of the accident."

"Your point, Karl?" I asked through gritted teeth, really not in the mood to play this bullshit mind game with him anymore.

"My point is that I think what happened wasn't an accident. When I picked up Kate that night, my truck was fine. I took her out to dinner and then broke the news as I was taking her home. She was a wreck. I tried to calm her down, but then the next thing I knew, my brakes weren't working. We flew straight through the intersection, and then, BAM, it was too late—there was literally nothing I could do. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital and finding out Kate was dead."

"Are you done now? Your two minutes ended thirty seconds ago."

The last bit of hope inside of him died as his shoulders slumped, his features falling in what obviously had to be a torturous act of defeat. "You don't believe me."

"Sorry," I said with a careless head shake. "I don't."

"Just think about it for a second—"

"I don't have to do anything, Karl. You said what you needed to say, and now you need to leave. Any concerns you have about your case need to be taken up with Ben."

"You don't understand," he screamed when I made to turn away, halting me in my tracks and forcing me to tap the CALL button, praying Peter would answer. "Ben won't listen to me! Nobody fucking will!"

I was glad I listened to my instincts, because no sooner than I took off running for the house, Karl came charging after me, demanding I stop and listen to him. Once I made it inside the house and had my alarm set, I cautiously peeked out the window to find him heading back to his car, furiously kicking the gravel as he went.