Black Widow (21 page)

“No, I don’t need shit. I need you to believe me that I’m innocent.”

“Preston, how long have we been friends? I need for you to be real honest with me right now. Who is Rebecca Anderson and how do you know her?”

“She’s someone I care about. Tell me Frank, is she really dead? How come no one will tell me what happened?”

“Yes, Preston, she’s dead. I’ve seen the evidence and it’s not looking good. She was stabbed and raped.”

“No… no way…” I shake my head in disbelief, “How could this have happened?”

“Preston, they have your fingerprints at the scene, with a few smears of dried blood. They are demanding you to give a DNA test to compare with the semen they found.”

I stand up, pounding my hands on the desk, “Frank, you have to believe me. I did NOT do this. I’m being set up. I promise you.”

“Look, I want to believe you but as I said, it’s not looking good. Who would want to frame you? Do you have any enemies I don’t know about?”

I look down, racking my brain for anything but coming up with nothing, “Fuck Frank, I don’t know. I can’t think of anything but I can promise you I didn’t do it.”

“Ok, well, let’s start with where were you Thursday night around midnight?”

“Um, I can’t tell you,” I say looking down.

Frank sits back in his seat, “Well, that’s not going to work. Preston, you have to tell me everything. If you want me to get you out of this, shit, if you want me to believe you, you have to tell me where you were.”

I shake my head, “Fuck! Ok, this is strictly to stay in this room.”

“Agreed. You have client/attorney privilege so I can’t say anything, and come on, you’re one of my oldest friends.”

I tell him everything. Everything about my private club, how there are no names, no faces, how Becca was someone who helped me start it, and how I stayed there all night till early Friday morning.

“Damn Preston. First, how come I didn’t know about this?” he tries to joke but knows this is not the time. “But more seriously, if you have an alibi then we’re all good. We will still have to figure out how your fingerprints are at the scene but at least it’s a start to create a shadow of a doubt. So who will vouch for you that you were at this club all night?”

I shake my head, looking down again, “Were you not listening? It’s a secret club. I can’t bring anyone into this without bringing the entire place down. Besides, no names, no identities, remember?”

“Well, how much are you willing to risk to keep this secret? You could be looking at life my friend. You may not have a choice. Obviously, you have to know someone there who knows who you are who could vouch for you.”

“Shit,” I shake my head, looking down, “There is one person. But she doesn’t know who I am. I’d have to reveal my identity to her but she’s who I was with. But fuck, it’s not as easy as that. She might not be willing to share this secret and who knows what’s going through her mind right now, she’s Becca’s best friend.”

“Ok, who is this woman?”

“Her name is Kamii, she’s an attorney as well…” I say, rubbing my hands down my face, “A criminal defense attorney.”

“Even better. I’m in business law; we’ll need a criminal defense attorney. But wait, you know who she is but she doesn’t know who you are?”

“No. She doesn’t. Remember, I own the place so I have everyone’s applications. Let’s figure this thing out before we bring her into the mix. There’s got to be a way we can do this without involving her.”

Frank lays out all the evidence that was given to him at the police station. I’m totally baffled by this whole thing. Everything points to me. How in the hell are my fingerprints there, in dried blood at that? They also have footprints of the same shoes that I own and searched my apartment where they found them with dried blood in the creases and sole but something is not right with them.

I’m being set up but I have no clue by whom.

I’m searching my brain, trying to figure out who could possibly have done this. How did they get my fingerprints? And those shoes?

But most of all, I can’t forget the fact that I’ve lost a dear friend and now I have to go to Kamii to help clear my name.

I haven’t spoken to her since she walked out of the room Friday morning. The one thing that is keeping me sane is the fact that she honestly knows I’m innocent. I was wrapped around her all night, and made love to her the next morning. I know she will believe me. But will she vouch for me is a different story.

To do so, she’d be outing her entire experience at my club. Is she willing to do that? Put herself on display like that, for me? I just don’t know.

After working on a game plan, I head back to my apartment knowing the only thing I can do now is wait, which sucks.

Looking around my house I sense it, something’s different. I was only home for a little while before I was arrested and this was the first time I’ve come back.

I can tell they searched the place, and not carefully I might add, but that’s not it. I can’t put my finger on it but something just feels different. It’s a smell, it’s the air, it’s a feeling I can’t describe. It feels familiar but at the same time that makes no sense at all. My head spins as I walk further in, turning on every light and checking for signs of someone being there.

The place is empty but the feeling doesn’t go away. Exhausted from the day, I just want to ignore the mess the police made and go to bed. The only thing I pick up is my wedding photo that’s sitting facedown where I have it placed on my dresser. I’m not even sure why they touched it at all since it’s the only thing moved there but it’s all I care about.

Now that I look at it though, all I can think about is Kamii, which I know isn’t right but I can’t help it.
Why can’t I get her out of my mind?

I’ve already given my heart to Kim and, even though she’s dead, I still feel awful that my heart aches at the thought of never having Kamii again.

Sex at any club I went to was always just sex for me but with Kamii, it’s been different. Since the first time I laid eyes on her, I’ve been drawn in a way that I can’t explain. I don’t want to have these feelings but no matter how hard I fight it, they won’t go away.

The next day I met with Frank again to try to figure things out some more. I want to be absolutely positive that we have looked at every angle we could before we involve Kamii. Whoever is trying to frame me has done a good job. It will take a miracle to clear my name and I’m praying that miracle’s name is Kamii.

Now that the story has gotten out, the media has been all over my building and work to try to get some information. I’ve always been proud of the fact that I’ve made a name for myself here in San Francisco but I guess being known also has its drawbacks, too, like when you’re being framed for murder and it makes the top story of the nightly news...

Frank set up a meeting between him and Kamii for later in the day. I wanted Frank to go over everything with her without names or incriminating details before she knew what was actually going on. I didn’t want her to know she was going to be defending the person who supposedly killed her best friend until she knew all the facts. Since Frank is not a criminal defense attorney, he met with her under the pretense that he wanted to hire her for a case he was working on but because of client/attorney privilege all names and strict details are being left out.

I’m standing outside her door, listening to see what she thinks before I enter the room.

After she goes over everything Frank gave her, I hear her say, “Mr. Austin.”

“Please, call me Frank.”

“Frank, I’d love to help you out here but I’m going to need more. This looks like a pretty open/shut case. Everything points to your client being guilty. You will have to give me more to work with. What is this iron clad alibi you talk about?”

That’s my cue. I walk in, looking her straight in the eyes. Those same eyes that did me in the first time I ever saw her and have died to see like this again but now all I see is the pain she’s had the last couple of days. No, these aren’t the same eyes I’ve been dreaming of. I know because, even with her mask on, her eyes lit up behind the dark colors. Now her eyes look dead inside.

I stop when I’m directly in front of her desk, standing tall, leaning on the desk slightly, looking her dead in the face, saying, “You. You’re my alibi.”

I’
m what? Did I just hear this guy correctly? I stand up, placing my hands on my desk like he is, “Look, what’s going on here? Who are you?”

“Look at me. You know who I am. I was with you that night. All night. You slept with my arms wrapped around you while someone we both love was murdered. I’m being framed and you need to help me.”

He reaches his hand out to me and I’m frozen, a complete statue staring at him, then staring at his hand that’s still outstretched. Completely losing it, I fall to my chair, tears following down my face as I cover them with my hands.

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening,” I say through my hands that are still covering my face as I shake my head side to side.

“Believe me, I’m just as shocked as you are. But this is happening. Becca is dead and I’m just as torn up about it as you are.”

I stand up, outraged. “You killed her! You did it! You had to have. All the evidence is here.”

“No, I didn’t. Please believe me. I’m being framed. I promise you.”

“Why should I believe you? She was my best friend. And she’s gone. You hear me? She’s gone! And I don’t even know you!”

“You do know me. What we shared that morning was more than what my club offers. I know you felt it, too. And now this… I need you. Someone is framing me for the murder of someone I cared for deeply. Please, you’re my only hope. I was with you all night. There is no way I could have done this.”

“I need a minute,” I say, running out of my office and down the hall to the ladies room.

How did my life turn into this? How am I having to deal with all of this again? Could this really be Eros? The more I thought about his voice right now, the build of his body and more importantly, the way
my
body reacted to the look in his eyes. Those crystal clear blue eyes that always looked back at me. I know deep down that it’s him.

I’ve cried all weekend, making myself sick to my stomach and now this? There is nothing left to do so I scream at the top of my lungs, not caring who can hear me.

The bathroom door opens and I watch as Eros walks in. He keeps his distance, standing by the door, quietly watching me.

“My name is Preston Babcock. I’m 36 years old and I’m also the owner of Bridge. That’s how I knew who you were and that you were a lawyer. I can tell you anything you need to know about me, especially the fact that I’m innocent. But you know that I am, because I was with you that entire night.”

I look at him in the mirror through my blurry tears. “How do I know that for a fact? I was asleep. You could have gotten up without me knowing.”

He walks up behind me, turning me around so we’re face to face. “Don’t say that. I was there all night. I never left your side and when you woke up, you were still wrapped in my arms. I didn’t do this. I promise you. I’m being framed. You’re the best defense attorney around and there’s a reason you were brought to me. You can help me.”

Even though I was asleep, I know deep down he never left me. Every time I’m near him I can feel his presence deep in my soul. I’ve had this emptiness inside me since I walked out of the club that morning, before I even knew about Becca. And now that he’s here, standing with me, I feel whole again.