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

“I assume you mean his sister. Yes, I know. Despite the television portrayals of riots and girlfriends and such, there are many very slow, dull hours in a women’s prison. And I have no one to spill any secrets to. Except maybe you, but you already know.”

“I’m actually honored if that makes sense. But I do have one more question.”

“I’ll do my best to answer.”

“You said William helped you find your mother. I understand he has a lot of connections, but your father went through a lot of trouble to hide her. How did William find her?”

Natasha bit her lip, one of the only signs she gave that she was hesitating.

“I don’t mean to pry too much about it.”

“No. it’s a fair question. I should have expected it.

“We can wait until next time...”

“William is my brother.”

Keith knocked on the door then, and Celia began to gather her things as he walked into the room. She reached for the recorder, and Natasha grabbed her hand. It was the first contact they’d had, and Keith nervously touched the gun on his hip.

“I trust you,” Tasha said. “I’m trusting you.”

Celia nodded, took the recorder, and followed Keith without answering. They walked down the hall, and neither of them commented on Natasha’s violation of no-contact or her parting words. Keith kept walking with Celia until they were outside.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine. I promise.”

He nodded and walked back inside, and Celia walked to her car, a bit overwhelmed with all she learned during the day’s interview.

Chapter 25

Celia led her first staff meeting on Friday morning. It wasn’t the first time she’d organized a group or spoken in front of one, not by a long shot. However, it was her first meeting speaking as Editor-in-Chief, and she wanted it to go well. The feedback was good, and everyone was on board with the new calendar. Even the staff who had been skeptical or envious the day William had announced her promotion seemed amenable. When she returned to her desk, Gladys was smiling.

“Well, that’s the first time I haven’t heard some sort of yelling from the conference room.” She joked.

“I’ll try to do better next time,” Celia laughed.

“You know, now that I’m assistant to the Editor-in-Chief, I think I deserve a raise.”

You know,” Celia said, pausing at the assistant’s desk. “You really do.”

“Oh, I was teasing,” Gladys blushed a little.

“No you weren’t,” Celia replied. “Schedule a meeting between the two of us on Monday, and we can talk about it.”

“I’ll be glad to!” Gladys smiled and pulled the calendar up on her computer.

Celia chuckled as she walked into her office. Gladys had been there for a while, and as a result of Celia’s additional duties, Gladys had additional duties now too. Celia wasn’t sure what the protocol was for giving her a raise and how much she could decide on her own, but Gladys deserved it. She probably needed to look at some of the staff as well. John certainly never thought about their actual value.

Once the morning’s busyness was over, Celia decided to work on her article about Natasha. The draft she had begun was already becoming unwieldy. She’d either have to end up cutting a lot of it or making it a series. Thankfully, now that she knew William and Tasha were friends, she was fairly certain he’d give her a good bit of latitude. There was so much more to Tasha’s story than the drama or the facts of the five murders. Much of Tasha's early life was tumultuous, and the models she watched made it clear: weakness was dangerous, and power and control were the only way to security. When you are weak, you have no say, and then you disappear. When you have power, you are seen, and you decide your own fate.

Celia could relate, even though her upbringing had been less trauma and more typical dysfunction. Still, even Celia understood the principle behind her thinking. Emotion, trust, vulnerability...they all came with strings. And people who were led by them were easy targets. Celia had seen it in the lives of her friends and family. Even Marlene’s situation. The first time John tried to use his sad-sack routine with Celia, she would have seen right through it. Marlene was a smart woman, but she wore her heart on her sleeve too much. It was how John was able to manipulate her. Not that he wasn’t an ass who needed to pay for it.

Even Bart had that weakness. He caught feelings, and he wouldn’t let go. Of course, he was in a whole different category. He thought he was entitled to Celia, that he owned her. No thanks. Celia had to wonder if the reason he was so stubborn was that she was the first woman who didn’t fall for his obsessive love-bombing. Whatever the reason, it had taught Celia a lesson. Relationships were liabilities. They were messy. She was better suited for hot men in pool halls.

Celia’s office phone rang, startling her a bit. “Celia Brockwell.”

“It’s Keith,” his voice was short. “Don’t you have your phone?”

“I do, it’s right here,” Celia replied. “Oh, I had it on silent for our staff meeting and didn’t turn it back up. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been calling and texting for almost an hour. Your alarm went off, and I’m at your house right now.”

“What? What happened? Is everything okay?”

“I think you better get over here.”

Celia hung up the office phone and gathered her purse and phone. “Gladys, something is going on at my house. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Oh no, I hope everything’s okay!” Gladys cried. “Let me know.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Celia punched the code into her phone and looked at her notifications. The alarm system had notified her several times, and she could see missed calls and texts from Keith. It looked like a back door had been opened. Could it have been a delivery? A break-in? Was it Bart? Celia drove faster, hoping her last thought