Seamless (30 page)

“Good point,” she murmured. “What do you think that was?”

“I don’t know, Mil.” Stella shook her head, her heart beating faster in her chest. “I heard something up front too.”

Millie’s eyes widened at Stella’s concern. Just then, the back door burst open, glass from the window exploding everywhere. Cooper growled and barked and then stopped. Dread filled Stella’s gut and disappeared into her throat; she tried not to throw it up.

Dread crept up her spine when Jamie sauntered around the corner and she knew no one could protect her now. Millie’s shock was evident on her face as she looked at Jamie then back at Stella. Cooper was nowhere to be seen.

“Millie.” Jamie nodded courteously. “Stella.” He grabbed the half empty bottle of cabernet sauvignon and turned it up, enjoying a healthy swig, his eyes locked on Stella. “Stella, why don’t you save Millie a lot of trouble and come with me?”

“Where’s Cooper and what’re you doing here?” Stella asked, trying not to show her terror, her face a blank mask.

Millie stood and flattened herself against the wall, her eyes the size of saucers. Whatever was going on had nothing to do with her, and she tried desperately to fade into the background.

“I’m here for
you
, babe.” Jamie’s eyes didn’t waver from Stella’s. “Like always.”

“You know,” Stella said, voice oozing with confidence she didn’t have, “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.” She looked toward the back door and Cooper came waltzing back in with a huge bone Jamie must’ve thrown outside for him. She felt like she could breathe again.

“Me too, Stella, me too.” Jamie laughed and took another gulp of wine out of the bottle. “You know what they say, should a, could a, would a…”

“Why are you here, Jamie? Or should I call you Jack? I can’t remember.” Stella’s eyes narrowed at her former fiancé.

“Oh, babe, you call me whatever you want. I’m here for you and the fucking money you promised me when you were making that recording for the FBI. Now get your bag and let’s go so I don’t have to hurt your friend here. Camille, right? Millie?” Jamie’s gaze went over to Millie for a few seconds. “Unfortunately, Millie, I only have plans for us, so I really don’t have time to deal with you.” He set the bottle on the coffee table right in front of Stella and stared intently in her eyes, daring her to do something stupid.

Stella shook her hair behind her shoulders, trying to buy a little time to come up with a plan, willing Millie to get away from Jamie.

Jamie took another step toward her and grabbed her left arm in the crease of her underarm. His touch pushed her over the edge and she reacted, grabbing the bottle off the table and swinging it at his head with all her might. Jamie moved quickly to the right and it just grazed his chin.

“Fuck!” he yelled.

Red wine sprayed all over the floor and the wall, mixing with the blood from his now split-open chin. The blood quickly rushed down his neck and dripped to the floor.

“Fool me once,” Stella said and she moved quickly to shove him off balance while he was still in shock from the blow to the chin.

Jamie finally got his wits about him and kicked her legs out from under her, the move effortless and detached. She fell on her back on top of the coffee table, which in turn crashed to the floor, the wind knocked out of her. The back of her sweater soaked in the wine for the few seconds she lay on the floor, waiting for Jamie’s next move. She didn’t have to wait long. He punched her in the face and Stella saw an explosion behind her eyes and then stars before she rested her head on the floor in the pool of wine. Pain bloomed in her head and she froze for several seconds.

“Stella!” she heard Millie cry from far off.

“Why are you always so difficult?” Jamie said, picking her up by the arm and dragging her to the front of the house.

Her vision was blurry and black around the edges; she probably had a concussion.
I will not be taken out of this house
.
I’d rather die, right here
.

Stella mustered the courage to fight, to fight with everything she had left, when she heard an explosion. Her ears were ringing, everything slowed, and she felt what she thought was water spray on her. Stella reached up to wipe the water off her face, but her hand came back crimson.

Jamie’s grip on her arm loosened significantly and she took a step to the side. Turning slowly to see why Jamie released her, she saw him collapse to the ground. Confused, she looked down to see the entire right side of his face gone; blown off. Stella heard a bloodcurdling scream and looked frantically around to see where it was coming from while taking another step back from him. She stumbled over her own feet and fell backward on her ass, frantically using her heels to push away from him.

The screaming continued. It just kept going. She looked down and there were pieces of his face on her shirt. Flesh. Blood. She brought her shaky hands to her face and felt pieces of him on her face. The scream amplified and Stella finally realized it was her. She was screaming and she couldn’t stop. Blood was soaked through her hair and she pushed it back so that she could see clearly. Her vision, although still dark on the edges, showed Jamie slumped awkwardly on the ground with a third of his face blown off, blood pooled on the hardwood floor and splattered on the wall. Stella, still screaming, felt herself lose her grasp on consciousness.

Stella came to on the floor in the front room of her old home. There were people everywhere; a young EMT was smiling down at her.

“Hello there. Stella, right? We were hoping you’d wake up before we had to take you in. How are you feeling?”

Immediately, Stella turned to the side and threw up. When she looked up again, she saw the police officers and Jamie’s body. She looked down at her shirt, still splattered with Jamie, and threw up again; red wine and what looked like blood. Her stomach seized again and again until there was nothing left to come up.

“Can you tell me your name?” the EMT prodded gently after Stella stopped vomiting.

“Stella Murphy.” Her voice was hoarse from dry heaving.

“EL!” Millie ran from the den, sobbing. “Oh, God! El! Oh…”

The EMT looked at her with a question in her eyes.

“El’s my nickname,” Stella supplied quietly.

Nodding, the EMT shined a light in her eyes.

“El, oh my shit... What the fuck... I mean, what—” Millie was all over the place; Stella didn’t blame her. This was hard to wrap your brain around.

“Where’s Cooper?” Stella frantically wondered. “Cooper. Is he okay?”

“He’s in my room,” Millie answered, her sobs turning to quiet, free-flowing tears. “He’s fine.”

“When can I get out of here?” Stella wanted to leave this house immediately. She had to get out of this room. She couldn’t stay here with Jamie’s body.

“I need to check your vitals and make sure you don’t have a concussion or any other internal injuries.”

“Yeah, he beat the shit—” Millie started, touching Stella’s shoulder and second guessing her words. “I mean, get checked out, El. Be safe.” She sighed. “He
did
beat the shit out of you.”

“He’s done worse,” she admitted softly, almost to herself. She looked at Jamie’s body, lifeless, on the floor in front of the door. Bile made its way into her throat again and she pushed it down with everything she had.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” the EMT asked. “Stella. How many?”

Stella looked away from Jamie to the EMT. The EMT’s eyes were sad. Stella wondered if they were sad for her or if the EMT had a sadder story.
Not fucking possible.

“Four,” Stella answered, closing her eyes and trying to block out the image of Jamie’s face.

“Good.” The EMT continued to check everything while Stella sat quietly and Millie cried. “Okay. I think you have a concussion; you’ll need someone to watch over you tonight and make sure you’re okay.”

“Will do.” Stella stood up, wobbled, and grabbed onto the wall for support.

“She’s staying here,” Millie said.

The EMT nodded and then headed toward the ambulance.

“I can’t stay here, Millie. You can’t stay here. This...”

Millie grabbed Stella’s hand. “You’re right, El, what the fuck was I thinking? We’ll go to your house.”

“I don’t want to drag this circus to my house just yet.” She sighed and looked at the flashing lights outside and knew the media was a few steps away.

“Okay… You’re right, we’ll just get a hotel room. I’m staying with you, wherever you are, El. I’ve already called Patrick and George. They’re both trying to get flights home immediately.”

Stella smiled, so thankful for her friend. “I need to get out of here, Millie. I have to... I... I can’t see this anymore. I have Jamie all over me. I can’t...” Stella felt something in her break apart and tears began falling down her face.
I thought I’d broken everything inside me already; again there’s more.

“Ms. Murphy?” A young officer walked up to her, holding several evidence bags. “We’re going to need your clothes. You’ll need to come with me.”

Her brain was trying to process what he was telling her to do.

“Okay,” Millie answered for her. She took Stella’s hand and led her to Patrick’s room. “El? Sir, I’m going to take her in here and take her clothes off, okay?”

“No, that’s not protocol, I’m going to have to do it.”

Silence.

“No fucking way,” Millie retorted, giving the young cop her back-the-fuck-off glare. “I’ll take them off.”

The officer looked around for someone to help him, but everyone seemed caught up in their own portion of the investigation.

“El, come with me. We’ll get your clothes off and I’ll give you new ones.” Millie tried to comfort her friend, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll be easy as pie.”

“Ma’am, I can’t let you do that.” The officer was firm.

“Oh really? What’re you gonna to do to stop me?” Millie took Stella by the hand and pulled her into her room. Cooper was on the floor wagging his tail and eating the bone that Jamie had given him like there wasn’t a dead body a few rooms away. “El, I’m going to take your clothes off and put them in this bag.” She walked to her closet and pulled out some jeans and a T-shirt. “Here, you can put these on.”

Stella was looking at her, but all she could see was Jamie’s head blown apart.
Fuck.

“Ma’am, at least wear these gloves, please.” The officer shoved some latex gloves at Millie, then stood in the doorway, watching.

“Hold your hands up.”

Stella did as she was told mechanically. When she lifted her arms up, something warm and reddish dripped off the sleeve and onto her head. She thought about vomiting again.

“Skin the cat,” Millie said as she pulled Stella’s shirt carefully over her head, trying not to get any of the blood and skin on Stella.

“What?”

“What?” Millie asked, confused.

“What did you say about a cat?” Stella questioned.

“Oh, my grandmother used to say that to me when she took my shirt off.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Mil.”

“I guess it doesn’t.” She chuckled. “Made you laugh, though. Can you get your pants? I don’t have any sayings for that.”

“I got it.” Stella wrenched off her soaked jeans and put them in the bag.

“Put those clothes on.” She pointed to the clothes she’d put on the bed. “Here you go.” Millie shoved the bags at the cop and gave Stella another glance before pushing him into the hall and closing the door behind her.

Stella pulled on Millie’s jeans; they were sort of tight and she didn’t think she could button the button. She took them back off and rummaged through Patrick’s things to find some workout pants. She slipped those on and pulled the drawstring to tie herself in. Then she put on the t-shirt Millie had given her. It was royal blue and read, “This is what awesome looks like.” Stella almost laughed at the irony of it and opened the door. She ran smack into Agent Harris.

“We should stop meeting this way, Stella.” His eyes gave nothing away as he took her in.

“Agent Harris, what’re you doing here?” She stepped backward back into Patrick’s room. Anger boiled inside her fear, inside her confusion; her mind was in so many places she had no idea what to think.

“Well, you know I got reassigned after putting the guy involved in the terrorist attack in Montana away, and then I was leading the investigation that you were involved in. When they shut that down, I got promoted and just happened to be in the neighborhood when I heard the police radio. Then I got the call about an ATF agent shot at this address, so I thought I’d swing by, see if I could help.”

She just stared at him; gawked, really. Her brain wasn’t working properly; every time she closed her eyes just to think, she saw Jamie.
Why do I feel bad? I wanted him gone
. Regardless, she sure as hell didn’t want to talk to this FBI asshole. Agent Fucking Harris threw her under the bus. All she wanted was a shower. “You were promoted…” she repeated. “Swing by? You just happened to be in the fucking
neighborhood
?”

“Well, interesting things always seem to happen around you. I thought I’d move close.” He smiled; it made her uncomfortable. “I’ve got some questions for you.” He motioned toward the kitchen table.