Chosen by a Killer by Laurie Nave (fastest ebook reader TXT) 📕

She opted to save it instead. However, her evening was ruined, and she was ready to get away from all the emotions. She found Marlene and David, told them she wasn’t feeling well, and she slipped away quickly.

It didn’t take long for Celia to drive home, and once she got there, she saw something sticking out of her mailbox. It was a hastily scrawled note:

Really, bitch? A camera!

There was no doubt it was Bart, though the handwriting was overly large and careful. Celia took it into the house and placed it in the folder Keith had set up for her. She was tempted to watch the footage again, but instead, she made sure every door and window was secure before getting ready for bed. Once she was settled, she decided to work on Natasha’s story. Bart was not going to intimidate her, and she was not going to succumb to fear. Staying pissed off was much better. She considered calling Keith, but he would probably want her to file another report, or he might want to come over and check on her. She wasn’t in the mood for that. What she wanted to do was find Bart and acquaint him with the gun she kept locked in a box in her closet, but she knew that wasn’t rational. Anything she did out of emotion would be foolish. Celia had learned that lesson the hard way once. She didn’t want to risk it again.

“Celia, did you hear about Candace?” The receptionist asked.

“What happened?” Celia asked.

“Candace had an accident last night. She was on her way to the courthouse to cover that shooting.”

“Oh wow, is she okay?”

“She is, just a few bumps and bruises. Apparently, her brakes locked or something. She’s kicking herself for not getting the first look.”

“I wondered how I managed to beat her,” Celia replied.

“You know, I kind of wondered if someone did something to her car. It was a pretty big story.”

“That would be a dumb thing to do,” Celia remarked quickly. “Let me know if she needs anything.”

The receptionist nodded, and Celia walked down the hall to her office. Once inside, she sat and collected herself. Candace was okay, the wreck wasn’t serious, and Celia had gotten there first. She’d be the first to break the story. She just hoped that no one else was as suspicious as the receptionist had been.

Chapter 20

As usual, Natasha was waiting when Keith and Celia arrived in Room 4. Keith had quizzed Celia about the camera incident. He had Chad set it up to send alerts to his phone as well. She assured him that she was fine, but he wanted her to file it. Bart had broken the restraining order whether she had been there or not, and everything needed to be documented. Celia promised him she would take care of it.

“At last you arrive,” Natasha teased. “I need a smoke.”

“I came prepared, as always,” Celia said, and she took out the cigarettes and a small lighter. Keith raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger I see,” Natasha remarked.

“As if you didn’t already have him wrapped around the other,” Celia responded.

“Well, he is a good ally to have.”

“Yes, he is that. He’s helped me with a few things around the house. I mean home security,” Celia clarified when Natasha grinned.

“Good. I asked him to insist on it. You are not taking your spurned suitor seriously enough.”

Celia shook her head and turned on the recorder. “So I have to admit, two weeks ago, you left me with a cliffhanger. You said your father lied, and then our interview ended.”

“Once an actress, always an actress.” Natasha shrugged.

“Yes, I know. It’s not the first time. But we only have a few interviews left. I want to spend some time talking with you about your time in here for the story, but, to put it into your terms, we have to kill everyone first.”

Natasha laughed. “Very nice. I have trained you well.”

“That’s a rather scary thought, I think,” Celia joked. “So what did your father do? How did he betray you in a way that merited his death?”

“He lied about my mother.”

“Your mother? She left when you were young. Did something happen to her?”

Natasha smoked in silence, and Celia could tell she was crafting the opening of the story inside her head. Celia could understand that. Talking about the hard things always took mental preparation.

“My mother was always a gentle person. From what I understand, it was her family who helped my father defect from Russia and into the United Kingdom. They married, and one year later I was born.

“My father was not a gentleman. He kept my mother under tight control. At home without him, she was a creative and interesting woman. Once he came home, however, she retreated into herself, capitulating to whatever he demanded. As I got older, I began to see her weakness. Around the time I was ten, their relationship became more tumultuous. My mother became unpredictable and sometimes disappeared for days. Of course, she was punished when she returned. Sometimes, however, she fought back. Her anger at my father occasionally turned on me. Still, she was too afraid to stand up for him when she calmed, so she stayed. Our home became a place I hated. And so when my father told me she had returned to England to be with her family, I was not even upset. I had lost respect for her.”

“I’m sure that was difficult. Did you ever hear from her?”

“I never did, which just solidified how I felt about her. Even when I began to gain some notoriety, and I thought she might return to get something from me, she was silent. She walked out when I was ten and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry.”

Natasha shook her head. “That isn’t necessary.”

“So she was in England all this time? Is she still there?”

“I began to wonder years ago. As I became famous and the pressure for interviews grew, my