Celia

Present Day

We arrived at my mother's house. There were already satellite vehicles outside on the street, and several reporters standing together talking.

"What do I do?" I asked as we pulled up. "I don't want to talk to them."

"Let me escort you," James said from the front of the SUV. "I'll keep them from talking to you."

"My mother must be okay if they released Spencer's name," I said, hoping that my mother had somehow forgot to call me when the police contacted her about Spencer's body being found. But how could she forget? How could she not think of calling me right away as soon as she knew Spencer was dead?

James got out and opened the door to let Amy and me out, then he led us up the driveway to the house. A reporter must have recognized me – he came up to us, sticking his microphone into my face.

"Celia Parker? Can you tell us what you know about your stepfather's death?"

I turned away, and James stepped between me and the reporter. "Ms. Parker's not taking any questions. Please respect her privacy at this sensitive time."

We made it to the door without any other reporters arriving. I tried the door but it was locked. I entered the security code on the pad and the door opened, admitting us into the entrance.

Inside, two uniformed police officers sat in the living room with my mother. She was dressed in a robe and slippers – her usual garb – and looked haggard, her hair a mess, her skin grey.

"Mom," I cried out and ran to her. I sat on the sofa beside her, my arm around her shoulder. "Why didn’t you call?"

"I tried," she said, her voice tired. "It said the cellular customer was out of range or something."

Then I realized she must have used my old cell. I was using a new one since I met Hunter.

"Tell me what happened," I said, turning to the two police officers.

"We're waiting for detectives to arrive," one of the cops said. "I'm Constable Roberts. This is Constable Franks. We came by to notify your mother of your stepfather's death and she asked us to stay until the detectives came by. They should be here soon."

I nodded. "You can leave us now, if you want. My friend and I will stay with my mother."

Roberts nodded and the two police officers stood and left us alone.

"Mom, what happened? What did they tell you about Spencer?"

She covered her face. "He was shot," she said, her voice wavering with emotion. "He's dead and has been for hours. He was at Chesapeake Beach for some reason, checking out one of his properties, I imagine. He left right after you and Hunter were here and he never came back. He must have been robbed but I don't know any details. They're still investigating."

My mother seemed unusually clear-headed. The shock of Spencer's murder must have pierced through her usual brain fog from the morphine.

"I'm so sorry, mom," I said, squeezing her arm, moving closer. Although I hated Spencer, I knew that my mother loved him. She'd be devastated to learn he was dead. After relying on him for years, she'd be afraid of who would look after her.

"I know you and Graham hated him, but he was my life after your father died."

"I know," I said, not wanting to talk about just how much I hated Spencer or how much Graham did as well. She already knew. It had been a sensitive matter between the three of us since she married Spencer. In Graham's and my minds, he was never our father. We made sure Spencer knew as much.

"Did anyone call Graham?"

My mom nodded. "We tried, but he must have been out of his room. I left a message for him to call me as soon as he got my message."

I called Graham right away, wanting to make sure he heard the news from us, rather than finding out on television that Spencer was dead.

I didn't feel at all sad or bad that Spencer was dead. In fact, there was a part of me that rejoiced. Finally, I could get my mother away from his clutches and get her more help.

While I waited for him to answer, I turned to my mother.

"Have you called Aunt Diane?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "I didn't think..."

"You should call her. You'll need somewhere to stay. You can't stay alone—"

"Can't you stay with me?" she asked. "You could sleep in your old room."

I shook my head. "No, mom. I'm staying somewhere else. You should go stay with Aunt Diane. Get away from here. There are reporters, and trucks with satellite dishes. They won't leave you alone for a few days. We could sneak you out the back and take you there."

"If you think so."

Graham's phone went to voice mail, so I left a message for him to call me as soon as he could.

Then, I dialed my Aunt Diane's number. She answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Auntie," I said, my voice a bit emotional. "Have you heard the news?"

"No," she said, sounding confused. "What news? I've been in the darkroom all morning. What is it? Is your mom okay? Is Graham worse?"

"No, they’re both okay. Spencer's dead. He was shot. That's all I know."

"Oh, thank God," she said and I was shocked to hear her say that. "I mean, I was worried that your mom overdosed or Graham had a complication. So, Spencer's dead? I have to tell you I'm not sad that the bastard is finally gone."

"My thoughts exactly," I said, glad to know that she felt the same way I did.

"God forgive me for saying that, but I hated that bastard right from the start. I tried to tell your mother to leave him but she was so unable to do anything to help herself."

"I know. Listen, speaking of which, can Mom come and stay with you for a few days until we can find some care for her? I can't stay here and she needs help."

"Why can't you stay with her, hun?"

I hesitated. How could I explain things? There's a Russian mobster who thinks I'm juicy bait to ensnare my gangster lover…

I couldn't tell her the whole truth.

"I can't tell you now, but I have good reasons."

She hesitated, but then I heard her sigh. "Of course she can come and stay with me. She's my sister. She can sleep in the spare bedroom."

"Good," I said. "Thank you. We'll bring her over after the detectives come and we can get her things together."

We said goodbye and then I turned to my mother, who sat watching me expectantly.

"You'll go and stay with Aunt Diane until we can get someone to come and stay with you."

She nodded. "I'm sorry about all this. I just don't know what to do…"

I put my arm around her and hugged her more tightly.

"Don't worry about anything," I said, kissing her cheek. "I'll make sure you're taken care of."

I glanced at Amy, who sat watching, an expression of sympathy in her eyes.

About ten minutes later, Graham finally called.

"He's dead?" Graham said, his voice shocked.

"Yes," I replied. "Shot twice. He was in Alexandria. That's all I know."

There was silence on the other line for a moment. "Well, I can't say I'm unhappy. I know mom will be devastated but really? I'm glad the bastard's dead."

"I know," I said, unable to disagree. "I'll come by later once I get mom settled at Aunt Diane's."

"Okay," he said and we ended the call.

Two detectives arrived about fifteen minutes later. The older man – balding, a paunch barely hidden by his suit jacket, his face red from exertion – introduced himself as Detective O'Grady and his partner as Detective Álvaro. I doubted either man could pass a fitness test, but hoped they were good investigators.

"We think your husband's death was foul play," he said, his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to look in her eyes. "Preliminary analysis suggests he was shot in the head with a high-powered rifle. Another bullet hit him in the chest. He died instantly and suffered no pain."

I grimaced. I watched enough CSI to know that a high-powered rifle was a sniper rifle. That suggested this was not some random murder, or even a robbery gone wrong. It didn’t sound like an ex-military former MMA fighter gone nuts and beating him to death in anger. It was deliberate. Two shots? One in the head and one in the chest?

He'd been terminated.

"Is there anyone you can think of who might have had a personal grudge against your husband?" O'Grady asked, his voice calm.

"He was the DA and made a lot of enemies," my mother said. "I have no idea who might want to kill him but he was on the trail of some big Russian mobsters. They're known for being barbaric against their enemies. Spencer always knew he was a target, but he was usually so careful…"

My mother covered her eyes and wept for a moment. The rest of us were silent while she regained her composure.

"The murder took place in a relatively isolated part of Alexandria along the waterfront – a mostly residential part of the city and not much traffic. We've done a preliminary canvas of the area, but so far we have no witnesses and no suspects."

The detectives filled us in on what would happen next – a full autopsy to determine the exact time and cause of death and confirm ballistics, and then his body would be turned over to whatever funeral home we requested. O’Grady promised to keep in touch as the case progressed.

The detectives showed themselves out and then sat looking at each other.

"Are you okay to be going anywhere?" I asked. "We could stay here for a while if you want a shower or anything."

My mother shook her head. "I'm too sick," she said and I knew that she needed some of her morphine to fight the pain. She rustled through her bag and took out a pill for the breakthrough pain, swallowing it and lying back on the sofa.

Amy and I gathered up my mother's personal items – her meds, her makeup and toothbrush, as well as some clothes – and then we snuck her out the back way and into the waiting SUV. James had taken a circuitous route through the neighborhood to try to escape notice by the press, who were still outside the house on the street. Once she was in her seat and I'd fastened the belt for her, we drove to my Aunt Diane's house. Amy and James helped me get her inside, and we sat and had a cup of tea and talked about the whole business.

By the time my mom was lying on the bed in the spare bedroom, drowsy from the breakthrough does she'd taken to help manage her pain from all the activity. I was tired and ready for some food. I said goodbye to my aunt and the three of us left.

"Can we stop and get something to eat? Then can you take me to the hospital so I can see Graham? I told him I'd come by and see him tonight."

James nodded and we went for some McDonald's. I was so exhausted I could barely think. We dropped Amy off at the dorm with her bag of food and then James and I drove to the hospital. In the entire day, I hadn't received one text or call from Hunter. I was afraid of what I might hear when I did.

Had he killed Spencer?

We arrived at Mass Gen and I went in, finding Graham alone in his room. He was waiting for me, his expression almost gleeful.

"So, the old bastard's dead, is he?"

Graham's expression said it all. He didn't break down and cry. Neither did I, of course. I would have liked to high-five someone, but my fear that Hunter had killed Spencer stopped me from celebrating. How could Graham and I not be happy to hear Spencer had died? He'd been a bastard to us from the start.

I hated him.

Now he was gone and maybe, finally, my mother would get better.

"He's dead. Shot in the head and chest."

"Good, " Graham said. "Did Hunter killed him?"

I shook my head. "Why would you ask?"

Graham shrugged. "He's the logical suspect."

"I can't believe he'd killed Spencer." I said it, but doubt was starting to creep in. He'd said he wanted to kill Spencer. He had a motive – revenge against Spencer for the arrest of Donny and Sean's death.

Did he do it?

I felt slightly sick to my stomach, mostly due to my fear that if he had killed Spencer, I wouldn't see him again outside of prison for a long, long time.

I spend about half an hour with Graham and then, when I yawned for the fourth time, he waved at me.

"Go home," he said. "I'm tired and you're tired. We can talk tomorrow."

I gave him a kiss and then trudged out to the waiting SUV. We drove through the dark Boston streets to the safe house, and I was so exhausted I didn’t even try to make polite conversation with James.

I felt sick as I trudged up the stairs to the building entrance and James keyed in the entry code.

When I got to the third floor, George was there to greet me.

"Where's Hunter? I've tried to get in touch with him all day. Have you talked to him?"

He shook his head quickly. "No. He has not answered my calls."

"Do you think something happened?" I asked, a surge of adrenaline flowing through me. "He always gets back to me quickly. I haven't received a text from him all day."

George held up his hands. "I'm sure is okay. Probably just had trouble with cell phone. Don't worry."

I plopped down in front of the television, feeling like a dark cloud was hanging over my head.

I couldn’t get it out of my mind that Hunter had killed Spencer in a fit of rage. He'd been so mad when he saw my neck.

I ate my McDonald's, but by that time my stomach was a bit sick from worry. Now that I knew my mother was safe at Aunt Diane's, I had to start worrying about Hunter.

Why hadn’t he called?

Where was he?

I went to bed after having a warm bath, thinking of the last time I’d spent with Hunter and how pleasurable it had been. I wanted him to open the door and poke his head in. I wanted to see that gleam in his eye.

Most of all, I wanted to know he was safe.

My stepfather was dead – murdered. My lover – such as he was – was missing and hadn't contacted me for more than twelve hours, which was so unlike him.

I went to bed, tossing and turning for several hours, worrying that something bad had happened and I'd find out the next morning that he'd been arrested. Abducted.

Or worse.