The son of a bitch brought her a shoebox containing Rhonda’s personal items. Who does that? Normally, family members of the deceased go through the belongings together to decide who gets what. Many times, they do so more for sentimental reasons than monetary ones and it’s a time for remembrance and grieving. I understand that she didn’t have a normal family unit, but a shoebox? I just don’t get that concept.
“Hey, I was wondering where you were.” I look up to see her entering my office.
“Go get me that shoebox Taggart gave you.”
“What’s going on?”
“Just go get it please.” I’m not going to answer too many questions right now and give her false hope. I don’t want to subject her to that but I do want to confirm that it was her sister’s body that was cremated. In my line of work, cremation always raises a red flag.
I wait as she goes to retrieve the only pieces of her sister’s life she has in her possession. She sets it down on the desk in front of me and I can already see the tears welling up in her eyes.
I carefully open the lid, purposely showing reverence with items that wouldn’t mean anything to someone else, but mean the world to her.
It’s mostly trinkets. There’s a necklace that says Sister on a thin gold chain, dried flowers, and wedding pictures of her and Steven. I am certain he put those in there to send a message.
“The dried flowers are from her wedding. I know it’s stupid but I can’t get rid of them.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid.”
“This is what I’m looking for,” I state as I grab a white piece of paper. It’s her death certificate and it’s creased from years of being folded. I gently unfold it and read its contents. Information jumps out at me as I read her name, the doctor on duty who made the declaration, and the biggie—cause of death. Hers is listed as a self-induced gunshot wound. The funny thing about suicide and women is the fact that most women aren’t going to shoot themselves in the head, especially not a woman who looked like Rhonda. Most women will take a handful of pills before they’ll take a gun, stick it to their heads, and blow their brains out.
This guy is hiding something and cremating her body is the first clue for me. He was in too big of a hurry to get rid of that body. Another thing I don’t like about it is that her death happened while they were on vacation in the Bahamas. I just can’t imagine Rhonda choosing her family vacation as a time to end it all. Everything about this case stinks and that includes Steven Taggart. This guy is as shady as they come and I’m not buying any of his bullshit.
I’m not going to tell Johnnie what I’m thinking, not yet at least. The last thing I need is her nosing around in this guy’s business. He’s already on high alert from seeing her at the car dealership. What he doesn’t know is that I’m on to him. I am convinced that Johnnie’s sister is still alive. Now, I just need to find out what he has on Rhonda that is keeping her from contacting the baby sister she loved and adored. You don’t go from being as overprotective as Rhonda was of Johnnie, to just cutting contact. If she’s still alive, this guy has something on her and I have every intention of finding out just what it is.
Chapter Twenty
Rhonda
I smile at my daughter as I address her nanny, “Make sure you put sunscreen on her and put on her floaties. She is convinced she knows how to swim and she’ll try to talk you out of it but don’t let her.”
“I can swim, mommy,” Talia cocks her head and eyes me as if I should already be well aware of that fact.
“I know you can, sweetie, but humor mommy.”
“Okay,” she replies in her most grown-up, big girl voice.
“I love you to the moon and back.”
“I love you to the moon and back too, mommy. Eskimo kisses,” she giggles as she rubs the tip of her nose against the tip of mine. Everything I do, and have done, has been for this little girl on my lap. She is my world and I will do anything to keep her safe from her father.
Finally, after four years of being held against my will, I am being given the chance to escape with the life of my daughter and me intact. If I can do it now, while she is young enough to not fully understand the lifestyle of organized crime that her father is involved in, it will be so much better. As much as I hate her father, I have no desire to share that hatred with my daughter. I don’t want her to have to deal with the horror of knowing what a monster he is. The only good thing that’s come out of my marriage to Steven is my daughter, Talia.
Up until now, I have been at my husband’s mercy but, as fate would have it, my little sister is in the picture now. I need to find out more about her and, more than that, I need to find out what has my husband so worried. Steven isn’t in the habit of getting rattled by other people’s power; he has plenty of his own. I have personally witnessed him deal with some of the most dangerous men in the drug trafficking business. He isn’t scared of people; they are scared of him.