This chapter is dedicated to _Toy_Chick_ who just appeared out of nowhere this week and managed to put a smile on my face. Thanks for your reads and comments XD

28 - Nasty Little Chats

Charlotte's POV

My eyes watch a tiny bird in the window pick at a few crumbs when a knock on the door announces a visitor. My heartbeat accelerates in the hope that it is Tivon, but an unknown man and women enter. He is wearing a cheap, polyester style suit which bulks under his arm pit, suggesting he is carrying a gun; her outfit, on the other hand, is a tailored linen skirt suit which looks very expensive. They are an odd couple alright.

He is the first to speak. "Mrs. Parks?"

I clear my throat, eyeing them with a small frown. "Yes." I bet they are cops and my suspicion is confirmed by his next words.

"I'm Detective Amerle and this is my colleague, Detective Tate. Would it be alright if we talked to you for a moment?"

My smile is feeble at best. "What's this about?"

He pulls up a chair and parks himself without an invitation – so much for getting rid of them quickly. "My department is investigating the robbery in your home. It'll only take a few minutes."

My eyes dart to her – she is still standing with no inclination to sit down, a faked smile plastered on her lips.

"Well, truthfully, I don't remember anything, so not sure how I can be of help," I say. "And I think my husband would prefer to be present."

They exchange a look. "It's required that we take a witness statement from the victim. Like I said, it'll only be a few questions."

I shrug, the soreness spreading along my back. "Sure. Fire away."

"So, your husband said he found you in the garden shed. Is this where you were attacked?"

I nod. "Yes." That's not even a lie, after all, it was the place where Ryan beat the crap out of me.

"And why did you go inside the shed?"

I squint at him, not sure how this could be of any relevance. "I wanted to get the clippers to cut the rose bushes."

He writes something in a little book while she continues to lean against the wall, her eyes burning into my temple.

"Was the shed locked?" he asks next.

"No. It's usually unlocked."

More scribbling into his book. "Aren't you afraid of burglars?"

I twitch under the glare of the woman and glance at her before focusing back on Detective Amerle. "No. There isn't anything valuable in the shed that would be worth anybody's efforts."

"No lawnmower or expensive garden equipment?"

"Nope, nothing. We have a high school kid who cuts the grass with his dad's mower and Ryan's tool box is in the storage closet. There's nothing in there other than some mulch and a few smaller garden tools."

This time, he takes his time to write everything down in detail and I fidget around in the bed, the women's stare making my skin prickle.

"Do you remember what time it was when you went to the shed?"

I pucker my lips, trying to remember. "Not sure. I was fixing dinner, so maybe around five."

He quirks his eyebrows. "You were going to cut the rose bushes in between dinner preparation?"

My cheeks burn slightly when I realize that his words imply that I am lying, but my mind is used to wiggle my way out of inconsistencies like that. "I was making a roast and had plenty of time for garden work."

I am thrown off track when the woman snorts and I toss her a nasty glance, fully intending to complain to Ryan. It is his cockamamie story, so he better make sure it sticks.

"And when you got to the shed, what happened?" Detective Amerle continues his questioning without paying attention to his partner.

"I was hit on the head from behind." My arms fold across my chest when a smile curls on the woman's lips. "After that, I have no clue what happened."

The room falls silent, the scratching of his pen the only sound. Detective Tate and I engage in a staring contest and after a minute, I grudgedly admit defeat when I drop my gaze.

"Do you have any idea how many people attacked you?" Amerle asks.

"No," I snap. "I already told you that I don't remember anything."

"Age, height?" He gives me a crooked smile. "Anything that we could use to identify your attacker?"

I shake my head with a clenched jaw despite the little pain volcanoes that erupt in my skull.

He sticks his pen back in the inside of his coat pocket and closes his notebook. "That's all I have." His gaze travels to the woman. "Lillian, do you have any questions for Mrs. Parks?"

She pushes off the wall and walks over to the end of the bed, her fingers tightening around the rail. "As a matter of fact, I do." A smile is forced on her lips. "Mrs. Parks, there was a domestic disturbance at your house about ten years ago and the police was called. Do you remember that?"

Of course I do. It was my one-time attempt at reaching out for help and it cost me dearly. "No, I don't."

She clicks her tongue. "There were allegations that your husband beat you."

I glare at her. "Like I said, I don't remember."

Her grip tightens as her knuckles turn white. "Let me ask you this – did your husband have anything to do with your injuries that caused this hospital stay?"

Somehow, I can't shake the feeling that she knows the truth. "No, Detective Tate, and I would advise you that I don't wish to talk to you anymore unless my husband or my lawyer is present."

She snickers. "Of course you don't. He trained you well."

My eyes narrow. "What was that?" I hate her smug attitude, her superior smirk irking me the most.

"Nothing, Mrs. Parks," she says in a complacent tone. "The detective and I will let you get some rest and we'll pick this up when your husband is back in town."

She signals Amerle to get a move on it and I realize that she is the one in charge.

They are almost out the door when I call them back, remembering that Ryan always told me to get the name of the unit if I have any contact with the police. "Excuse me, Detectives. Which department do you work for?"

Amerle frowns but Tate keeps the pleasant expression on her face.

"I'm with the Criminal Investigations Bureau," – he mutters – "and Detective Tate is with CCHU?"

"CCHU?" I stare at him blankly, wondering what on earth he is talking about.

"It's the Cold Case Homicide Unit," she explains.

I am puzzled – why would she investigate a robbery? "Do you believe that the muggers murdered someone?"

Her eyes are fixed on me. "No. The case I'm investigating dates back over twenty years and we don't believe that the robbers are even that old."

The hairs on my neck rise. "And what does this have to do with me?"

She continues to stare at me without even blinking. "The victim was someone in your immediate family."

A gnawing suspicion gets a hold of me. "Who?"

This time, I hold her gaze, wanting to get to the bottom of this. We glare at each other, both trying to bring the other to their knees.

She finally breaks the silence. "Your son Jared."

Something cold crawls down my neck. "My son's death was ruled an accident."

She nods. "Yes, but we've received new evidence and decided to reopen the case."

Every part of my scalp tingles. "What kind of evidence?"

"That's confidential." Her smile is slick. "Just remember – if your husband had a hand in your son's death and you cover for him, you could be charged with accessory to murder."

I gasp. "Are you threatening me?"

She laughs. "Not at all, Mrs. Parks, but you should think twice about whether you want to end up in jail for a man who has been abusing you for years."

The thought is more than scary. I wonder what type of evidence she is referring to, but it couldn't be anything solid or Ryan and I would have already been arrested. Rena probably made some allegations when she was interviewed for the home study and they are grasping for straws.

"I think you're fishing, Detective,"–I return as slick of a smile–"but keep in mind, for your own sake, that my husband is a senior official with the FBI and will have you booted out of the force if he finds out what you've been doing. Rena Cooper is an unstable teen who'll say anything to get us into trouble. You really shouldn't believe a word she says."

This time it is her who drops her gaze. "We'll see about that."

The words are low and I have to strain to hear them. I high five myself – I showed her. She has no idea who she is dealing with.

xxxx

I call Ryan the minute the two detectives close the door behind them. He picks up on the third ring and I brief him on my little chat with Amerle and Tate. Surprisingly, he keeps his cool.

"Don't worry, Charlotte, I have it covered."

I am taken aback. "Did you know about this?"

The line goes silent for a moment, all I can hear is his breath and a few muffled voices in the background. "Yes," he finally admits. "They reopened the case a couple of months ago. Henry told me."

My blood boils. "And you didn't think it was something worth mentioning to me?"

"Look, Charlotte,"–his voice is sharp and I instinctively pull my head between my shoulders–"I didn't think it was important. Tate is an ambitious little bitch who is hoping to jump to the top by throwing mud at us. I'll make sure she won't bother you again."

He will not get away with keeping the truth from me that easily. "I don't understand, Ryan. Half of the guys on the police force are your friends. How could it even get that far?"

He sighs. "Henry said that Rena stopped by with Fallon and made all kinds of allegations. She and Tate apparently hit it off. The Cold Case Unit is required to investigate when there is new credible evidence and since Tate is a heavy hitter and believed Rena's crap, Henry's hands were tied, even as police chief. Ultimately, this will lead nowhere since neither of us did anything wrong. Jared's death was a tragic accident and nothing more."

I close my eyes, my little boy's broken body flashing in front of me. According to the coroner, he died instantaneously and never suffered.

"I want you to make this go away, Ryan," I whisper. "I never ever want someone to question me like that again or I swear I'll tell them what you have been doing to me."

He chuckles. "Don't be silly. Who would believe you anyhow? You are a nobody without me, Charlotte, never forget that. You can't even take care of yourself and would end up in the gutter with nothing."

Tears pool my eyes when his hurtful words cut into my soul. Keeping me on a short leash has been one of his favorite tricks to keep me in check. It shouldn't rattle me anymore since I have Tivon, but the thought that I would just go from one dependent relationship into the next has always bothered me.

I decide to change the subject since we would otherwise just argue and he would take revenge as soon as he gets home. "How is it going up there? Any progress with Rena?"

"Nothing." He is practically steaming through the phone. "We thought we had them when she told Marcus's wife about a remote cabin up in Michigan close to her grandparents, but that lead went cold."

My shoulders slump. I never expected that Rena would be so tough to break. "What are you gonna do now?"

"I don't know yet." A long sigh drifts through the phone and his voice is laced with frustration. Luckily for me, I am far away in the hospital or he would take his bad mood out on me. "We'll try again tomorrow. I'm sure everything will fall into place soon and we'll be a family again, just like you wanted."

I smile to myself – he has no idea that there won't be a happy family with him in it. As soon as the ink is try on the permanent custody order, Tivon will initiate divorce proceedings.

"I love you, Charlotte," he says all of a sudden.

It takes a lot of effort to keep my voice steady. "I love you, too." I am glad that the slight tremble that still sneaks into the words is hidden by static in the line. Bad cell phone connections have certain advantages.

"Well, I better go," he says. "I'll call you as soon as I have any news."

"Okay." My heart is pounding with hope. "Talk to you later."

I sink back into the pillows after cutting the line, tears playing in the corner of my eyes. Tate's words poured salt in a long forgotten wound that has never fully healed and for a moment, the incredible loss robs me of my breath. Sometimes, it is a miracle to me that I have been able to go on for such a long time without my son.

To kill my pain, I administer another dosage of morphine. My eyelids become heavy and I allow myself to drift into a deep, dreamless slumber. Yet, I know that the nightmares of my past will soon enough haunt me once again.

So, the heat is on. Apparently, Rena has been causing some trouble for the Parks in the background while Charlotte has been gaining grounds with the court. Much is at stake - let's see how it all ends.

This is the last of the republished chapters and we will go back to a once a week update schedule. There is only nine chapters left, so things will speed up from here while we drive this story to a conclusion.

For all of you who have been following the story through draft I and II, let me know whether this new story structure is working for you. For me as author, it is certainly easier to write and keep track of all the plot strings and characters.

Love to hear your comments and don't forget to vote if this chapter deserved it. Thanks for reading and have a great week :)