24. Twenty-Four

twenty-four

Spike

The police arrived at Charlotte's house within minutes of me calling the report in. Charlotte was currently talking with Chief and Captain Burgess and was in utter shambles, barely holding it together.

"Spike!"

My brows shot up to my hairline when I spun around at the sound of my name.

"What the hell happened?"

"Charlotte's fine," I told Phoenix, confused as to why he was here. "I thought you were at the club?"

"I was," he answered, worrying his bottom lip the more he stared at Charlotte talking to our bosses. "I left early after overhearing on the scanner that something happened here at Charlotte's house."

"Someone cut the lines on her security cameras. There was a package delivered on her porch with a dead cat inside of it."

"What?" he asked, jerking his head back in disbelief. "Tell me you're not serious."

I sadly shook my head, wishing I had better news to deliver.

"Was it Karl?"

"Charlotte seems to think so. Aside from him, her coworker Blaire, and Peter, nobody else is familiar with the cameras or knows where they're located. There's something else too."

I checked my surroundings and then leaned in closer to my best friend.

"Charlotte received several texts on the way here from a restricted number."

I relayed to him what the messages said.

"But get this… Charlotte also told me she'd received another package from a local flower shop the same day Karl showed up here. There wasn't a sender listed but there was a card taped to the box with the exact words written inside."

"Wait…" Phoenix shook his head, completely flabbergasted. "She told you that? I mean… Obviously, I knew about Karl, but this is the first I'm hearing about a package. She never told me about that."

I looked away from him long enough to carefully narrow my eyes over his shoulder at the random car whipping madly inside Charlotte's driveway. It was Peter. He literally jumped out, leaving his door open, and immediately ran over to Charlotte, who was still in deep conversation with Cap and Chief, tears flooding her cheeks.

"Maybe it slipped her mind. But that doesn't matter right now. She said it's Karl and that the whole ‘it should've been you' thing is just another bullshit form of him trying to woo her back."

"His way of saying he should've chosen her instead of his mistress," Phoenix uneasily grumbled.

"Yeah," I nodded. "That's how it sounded to me too."

"But a dead fucking cat?" he said more angrily, gritting his teeth. "Why would Karl—"

"I have a theory about that," I whispered, not wanting to be too loud just in case Charlotte overheard. I fucking refused to upset her any more than she already was at the moment. "But before I can elaborate any further, that's the person we need to speak with first."

He followed my pointing finger's trajectory.

"Peter?" Phoenix's gaze volleyed between the two of us for a moment before he finally cocked his head slightly to the side and asked, "Why Peter?"

"Just trust me," I begged, really needing him to follow my lead on this and not hound me with a thousand fucking questions.

I knew what I was doing and if my gut was spot on, then Karl had best get ready for what was coming.

We all should.

Especially Charlotte.

"Fine, man." Phoenix rubbed tiredly at his eyes and blew out a breath. "We'll talk to him if that's what you want. But first, let's go find out what the hell is going on."

We fell in step with each other, approaching Charlotte, Captain Burgess, Chief, and Peter, who were huddled outside of the front door, listening to Charlotte as she spoke.

"I just don't understand how Karl could do something like this."

She frantically shook her head as she stared desperately between the three of them, her jaw trembling.

"He loves animals. We never had any pets because I'm super allergic to pet dander, but STILL!" She paused and heaved in a much-needed breath, more tears dotting over her broken, blue orbs. "This just doesn't make any sense. He wouldn't do something like this. He-he couldn't have…"

Her voice cracked, and instantly my jaw tightened when Peter quickly wrapped his arms around her, holding on tight as she began sobbing into his chest, clinging to him.

Now is not the time for jealousy, Spike.

"You were right," she wept, her face one huge, blubbering mess as she peered guiltily up at Peter. "I should've listened to you, and I'm so, so fucking sorry I didn't. I'm so sorry, Peter. Please forgive me."

"What happens now?" Phoenix asked first, looking to Chief and then Captain Burgess.

"I have a team on the way to pick Karl up for questioning. We'll hold him long enough so that Burgess and I can do a little digging inside his financial records and review the data stored inside his ankle monitor. If there's anything there proving he did this, then, he's done."

"And if there isn't?" Charlotte's tender voice rasped out.

Chief sighed heavily, but he didn't lie to her. "Then we'll have no choice but to release him. I know you mean well, Charlotte. You're such a good person, and I cannot express how sorry I am for everything you're going through, but I'm sorry. I simply cannot stand back and let you continue refusing protection when it's obvious you need it."

Charlotte surprisingly didn't argue. "I understand, Chief. Whatever you have to do, just do it. I don't care how many cops you post outside of my house or for how long. Just make sure that bastard doesn't get this close to me again."

"I'm an idiot," Charlotte mumbled thirty minutes later, wiping the tears out of her eyes as she sat on her couch, Peter right beside her. Captain and Chief were long gone and aside from Phoenix, Peter, and of course, myself; there were two units posted outside Charlotte's house at this very moment.

"I can't believe he'd cut my camera lines, slaughter an innocent animal, wrap it like it's a fucking gift, and then deliver it on my doorstep. It's just… Sick!"

Her body uncomfortably squirmed in her seat, pulling away fast when Peter tried to grab her hand.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this right now. I-I think I'm gonna go upstairs and take a shower."

"Would you like me to make you some coffee?" Peter asked, looking nervous as he stood and raised a red and severely peeling hand toward the kitchen.

Jesus Christ.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Might as well," she answered with an indignant scoff. "There's no way in hell I'm sleeping tonight. Not after that."

She said nothing more and rushed upstairs, leaving Phoenix and I alone with exactly who I was eager to speak to.

"Peter," I said, trailing behind him and casually leaning against the kitchen island when I made it there.

I watched as he fetched a pair of gloves out his back pocket and put them on. He then grabbed a bag of expresso beans and dumped them in their slot inside the machine.

"Yeah?" he asked, but it was hard to talk thanks to him carelessly pressing a button that made the machine whir to life, grinding up the beans.

"I want to talk to you about Karl. Just how serious is this shit?"

"Pretty serious," he replied, rolling his eyes like he was annoyed with the topic alone.

He began preparing Charlotte's coffee and tiredly shook his head.

"I was around when she and Karl first got together over ten years ago, back when we were in college working on getting our degrees. The guy's fucking psycho."

"Has he ever done anything like this before?"

"It's complicated. Charlotte has always been extremely private about their relationship. But what I do know is there have been multiple times where she's come to me crying her eyes out over the brutal arguments they've had. She was never specific about what was said, but she's never failed to mention how hostile Karl would get, or how he'd grab the most random thing he could get his hands on and hurl it across the room out of anger."

"Be honest with me," I said, delivering a look that told him I was far from fucking around. "Has he ever hurt her before, like in the past?"

"Physically?" he asked, and I nodded, waiting patiently for his response.

Peter shrugged, and judging by the look on his face, I believed him, as did Phoenix, who was now standing beside me.

"Charlotte has always denied it when I've asked. And to be honest, I've never seen any physical evidence as far as bruises and such. Aside from this one recent time, I truthfully don't know about any previous altercations. If it did happen, or has happened, she's never told me. Detective Rhodes," he said, nudging his head toward Phoenix. "He knows this already because he was here when it happened, but I quit being her lawyer because of this shit."

"She needs you, Peter," Phoenix said, frowning. "You're the closest friend she has who understands the true danger here."

"And what are you expecting me to do, Detective Rhodes?" he asked, sounding a bit tense. "I've tried everything I can think of, and nothing has worked. She wouldn't even be in this position right now if she'd have listened to me."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Don't quit," Phoenix answered simply. "Given what's happened, I'd say she's received one hell of a wake-up call. Don't you agree?"

Peter just scoffed and shook his head at us like we were complete idiots.

"You don't understand. The situation with Charlotte and Karl… This has put an extremely huge dent in not only our friendship, but our attorney-client relationship as well. She doesn't listen to me. Any advice I've ever given her has always gone in one ear and right out the other. I hate that I quit on her. I do. But that doesn't mean I've stopped being her friend. I'll always be there for her whenever she needs me, but when it comes to this shit with Karl, I just can't do it anymore. I've stomached all I can take."

"And yet here you are," Phoenix couldn't help but point out.

"Yes," Peter answered tightly. "Because that's what friends do. They show up and are there for each other despite their disputes."

Even though I didn't really know Peter, I had to admit he'd given a reasonable, respectable explanation.

Peter abruptly straightened his spine and then whipped around to grab the coffee mug off the counter.

Phoenix and I turned, finding Charlotte standing behind us dressed in pajamas. Her hair was damp, unbrushed, and still, even after her shower, all she could do was gape between us with a river of tears pouring down her distraught face.