tagLesbian SexCaptain Of Her Heart Ch. 14

Captain Of Her Heart Ch. 14

byvelvetpie©

My cell phone blazed all night and I ended up turning off after an hour of calls from Alisa. I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't want to hear her soft voice. I didn't want to think of the nights I'd slept in her arms or the exquisite heights to which she'd taken me. I just wanted to turn everything off and crawl into a dark hole. Of course, it was a stupid idea because I couldn't get any sleep. No matter how many times I tried to ignore my thoughts, they buzzed around me like flies around shit, looking for a place to land.

When I was able to drag myself out of bed, I called the airline and tried to get my shift changed but Arthur wouldn't do it. Christa and I were the best and he wouldn't separate us. When I threatened to quit, he offered an extra week of vacation and I took it, grumbling to myself the whole time. It was my bed and I had to lie in it. Without Alisa.

I went to the bank after the calls and John Eddies, the bank director, came out and shook my hand. "I was wondering when I'd see you."

John had known me since I was a kid and I reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a Dum-Dum lollipop. He always kept them there for restless children, such as myself and I was glad to have one just now. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Come to my office and we'll talk." I followed him, enjoying the taste of stale butterscotch and he ushered me into his paneled office, shutting the door after us. "How did that woman get hold of your father's accounts?"

"The will."

"But I saw the will. I know what Reggie wanted."

"So do I, John, but the will that was filed says differently."

Eddies sat forward, grabbing my hands. "Between you and me, the bank has had the account frozen until we can properly determine what's going on."

"Oh, that's great!" My happiness was short-lived. "But I don't know where the other will is, John!"

He shook his head, releasing my hands and sitting back in his chair. "Well, what's in the box that he left here for you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, why don't we go see?"

John accompanied me down into the vault and after producing the proper keys, he pulled the box out and I opened it. Inside was a sliver of fabric. Red, soft and fraying, it sat staring at me until I picked it and gave it a sniff. John just watched me until I recognized it. "Daddy's sweater! His favorite sweater!"

"Do you know where it is?"

"Yes!"

"You need to go get it. Do you want me to go with you?"

"No."

"Go to the lawyer's office as soon as you can with it. You won't be safe any where else."

I laughed. "I'm not in danger, John. Annabelle wouldn't hurt me." My laughter died in my throat when I realized that he wasn't laughing. "John, what are you not telling me?"

"Nothing that I know for certain, Tawnya." He stood up and I arose, following him to the door. "Just find that will and get it to your father's lawyer. If you need anything, you call me." He handed me his business card and flipped it to show me where he'd written his cell and home phone numbers on the back. "And I mean anything<./I>, Tawnya."

"Thank you, John. I really appreciate it."

I left the bank with my brain buzzing, not unlike how it was when I was trying to sleep last night. Nothing that I know for certain. Why would he say that? Was he hinting that Annabelle murdered my father? What the hell was going on? I tried to push that aside as I rushed to the storage place. Daddy had three red sweaters that I loved to wear and only he and I knew which one had been my favorite. I pushed the heavy door open and made my way back to the trunk that held his old stuff.

Opening that trunk was like taking a trip back in time. There were pictures of all of when Mom was alive, of Dad and me when he was alive, school pictures, crafts and things like that. All part of the happy life I led before they had been taken from me. I picked up one picture in particular. It was a picture of me with a milk mustache in Dad's sweater. I sniffled, remembering the mixed smells of leather and Aramis that reminded me of him. Beneath the stack of photos were the sweaters, one maroon, one fire-engine red and one brick-red.

I reached for my favorite sweater and everything went black.

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