Speak (The Voice trilogy Book 2) (18 page)

Saving Alexia

Copywrite JL Sins

An excerpt

Preface

10 years earlier

November 2002

“Hello?” I ask answering my cell phone.

“Is this Alexia Kincaid?” the man on the other end of the phone inquires. 

“It is. May I ask who’s calling?”

“I’m sorry, this is Sergeant Riley Tanner. I’m with the Houston Police Department.”

Police, why would the police department be calling me? “What’s this about Sergeant?”

“When was the last time you spoke with your parents?” Sergeant Tanner asks me.

“A few days ago, why? What’s going on? Did something happen to Ava?” I’m almost in a panic.

“Ms. Kincaid, I hate doing this over the phone, but there’s been an accident at your parents home. Shit, I don’t want to tell you this... it looks like a murder has taken place. We’ve been here for about 45 minutes or so. Your sister, Ava,  wasn’t home at the time, and it doesn’t appear that your home has been broken into at all,” Sergeant Tanner explains.

I’m silent, because I’m in complete shock. How could something like this happen? This is the type of shit you see on the news in New York or California, not Houston, and certainly not The River Oaks area. I can’t believe this is happening. I think I’m quiet for far too long, because the Sergeant interrupts my thoughts.

“Ms. Kincaid, are you still  there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry, I just can’t believe that this has happened...I’m in the middle of driving back from Austin, to visit for the Thanksgiving holiday. You’re sure Ava wasn’t in the house at the time?” I  question as I pull over to a rest stop. I’m still in shock over  the news and I need to not be driving at the moment.

“I know this is a major shock, we are working on this as quickly as we can. Your sister is with one of the neighbors at the moment. Again, I know that you’re in the middle of driving here, but how long do you think you’re going to be, because we need to figure this out,” Sergeant Tanner  explains to me.

“So, you’re going to figure this out before I even get there? So you’ll have better answers?” I ask rather harshly.

“No ma’am, it’s just well, we have some very time sensitive issues to handle. The scene is extremely gruesome and I want to make sure I’m here before you walk in,” he almost whispers.

“Sergeant, I’m just now passing Huntsville. I would say it’ll be at least another hour or so with the traffic.”

“Okay, that’s fine. However, I do need to ask a couple of questions before you get here, is it okay if I ask you now?” his voice hopeful and sincere.

“I guess, I mean I don’t know how much help I’m going to be since I live in Austin and go to UT full time,” I clarify to him.

“Trust me, you’ll be more help than you know.”

I think to myself, why is that? What the hell is really going on? My father the District Attorney in Houston, Alexander Kincaid, and my mother, Angelina Kincaid, have been murdered, and for some reason this cop seems to think I can help. Yeah I can help...who the hell did this? Then it hits me…

“Are my mother’s rings missing?” I blurt out, trying to stop my tears that I didn’t even realize I had and get back onto I-45.

“Rings? I’m not sure, I’m going to have to ask my partner. Anything else I should be looking for?” Riley grills me.

“I know of two wall safes. One of them is in the panic room behind my mother’s closet and the other is in my dad’s office behind our family portrait above the fire place.”

I can hear him barking orders in the background. I’m not really able to make out what he’s saying, but I can tell he’s in a hurry and he sounds pissed off at whomever he’s talking to. So while I’m driving as fast as my Audi is able to go, without breaking too many laws, I just listen on speaker phone. I’m in a daze, and something doesn’t feel right about this at all. I know my father tried to shield us from the ugly side of his job, but unfortunately we saw some of it. I know I saw my share while growing up. I never knew if my mother really loved my father or if she was only with him for the money, because it was very well known in the area that we were considerably  wealthy. We lived in one of the biggest homes in the River Oaks Area, of Houston, Texas.  So it wasn’t like people didn’t know who we were. At times it’s hard to trust people who only wanted to get close to you for being a Kincaid.

“Sorry about all of that. What we are going to do is wait for you. Please drive safe and we will see you soon,” Sergeant Tanner says and hangs up.

I wanted to call Ava, to check on her, but I didn’t want to worry her too much, after all she’s only 12 years old, and our parents have been killed. Her whole world is going to crumble down on her any second. So I didn’t call her. I drive in complete silence to my home in Houston.

Once I pulled into the long drive way, there had to be at least 40 cop cars sitting there, if not more. I was flagged down before I even had the car in park. I could even see a few news crews waiting outside of the gates. I put my car in park, took a deep breath, and got out. I greeted the officer that was flagging me down.

“Miss, you can’t be here, there’s a police investigation going on. You’ll just have to turn around and wait outside of the gates to get your story, like everyone else,” he assertively barks at me.

“I’m not with the news crew. This is my family home. I’m Ms. Kincaid,” I assure him as nicely as I can, considering the situation. “Could you please ask for Sergeant Tanner to come down here? I just drove in from Austin.”

He turned away from me and spoke into his left shoulder, “Get Tanner, he has a visitor, it’s Ms. Kincaid.”

I go back to my car and wait. I watch what’s going on, it doesn’t seem real, and it hasn’t hit me yet. I know that once it does, it’ll be catastrophic. I feel completely numb, like this isn’t happening. I put my hand on my steering wheel and lean my head down while taking deep breaths. I repeat over and over just breathe, just breathe, just breathe…I’m feeling tightness in my chest that won’t go away. 

It feels as if I’ve been sitting here for hours when a soft knock on my driver side window startles me. I quickly look over and see a tall, attractive man standing there with a somber expression, I assume this is Sergeant Tanner. Here goes nothing… I think to myself while opening the door.

August 2012

Ten years later…

Out of all days this has to be, by far, one of the worst. A lot has been going on, I've finally been able to start and open the talent/marketing agency. I know I've earned the reputation of a cold hearted bitch that won't stop at anything to get what I want. Well, some of it’s true. It's a man’s world and I'm not sleeping my way to the top in my own company. I, Alexia Kincaid, had better things to do than to listen to some dickless jackass tell me how things are going to happen. Oh, you don’t know do you? This is a man’s world.

So, when I receive a call from the FBI saying that they believe that my parents were in fact murdered and not the whole BS story of a murder/suicide, I sit up straighter in my chair and listen to the agent on the other end.

"Ms. Kincaid, this is Agent Adam Chase. I was wondering if we could possibly meet up. We believe to have more information in regards to your parents’ death," he states.

I sit in shock. My first reaction is to yell at him and hang up, because this shit was never going to end no matter what I did. I’m instantly taken to that dark day in the back of my mind. The day that I swore I never ever wanted to remember. It's been almost ten years since this had happened, and a lot has changed. I sold the house and all of its contents, because it was tainted with horrible memories, from my childhood and of that night. I didn't want to bring that shit up again. No matter what I did.

It was hard enough to have the press and half of Houston, believe that you had your parents offed because you’re the spoiled rich girl of the city's District Attorney, and didn't get your way. If they only knew the half of it. To be questioned repeatedly, in the next room, where you are able to see the blood stains and your father’s foot, wasn't stressful enough. Nope not at all.

"You believe or are you just harassing me once again? I've already given my statement over and over. So if you'd like, I can give you the number to my attorney, who would be more than happy to answer any questions for you in regards to this horrible situation, “I say tersely.

"No, it's not to interrogate you at all. I've been added to the cold cases and just have a couple of questions about your parents, not about your whereabouts on the day in question ma’am," Agent Chase calmly confirms.

"Oh okay, I'm currently in my office, would you like to meet here or would you like for me to come to you?" I ask trying to be somewhat polite. My mother always told me that you'll get more flies with honey than you will with vinegar.

"Ms. Kincaid, if it’s possible can I just come to you?"

"Sure, that's fine agent. Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address."

Once I tell him the address, I hang up and wait for the Agent to come to my office. I'm trying to get work done, trying to put this as far as possible in the back of my mind. Of course, no amount of emails will keep me from thinking about what had happened.  I have to stop this; I'm never going to shake this horrible feeling. I take a deep breath, stand up, and walk over to the wall of windows looking out over the heart of downtown Houston.

I look out and down the sidewalk and see how little everyone is, and not  a one knows that the Alexia Kincaid is 30 stories above them. So I can pretend that I'm normal, just like everyone else. I start getting that sinking feeling, so I take a step back while taking a deep breath. Heading to the couch, I grab a bottle of water and sit down, while thinking back to that horrible night in question.

- I looked up at the officer after I stepped out of the car. He's a tall very attractive man, hazel eyes that looked almost green, and dark brown hair. In that normal detective uniform, white button down dress shirt, with black dress pants and black dress shoes. He’s not wearing a tie and the top two buttons were opened.  He had to be at least 6 foot or more, because I had to look up at him. He looked tired; you know that look that all cops have. Like the last crime scene wasn't as bad as this one. He took a deep breath and looked down at me with a little bit of anger and sadness. I think the anger was out weighing the sadness, at that moment, for whatever reason.

"Ms. Kincaid, I'm Sergeant Riley Tanner, as you can tell a horrible crime has happened here and we are still trying to figure out what's going on. Do you mind answering a few questions?" He asked, trying to be hopeful.

I just looked up at him, wondering what answers I could possibly have. I hadn't spoken to my father in weeks, and my mother, it'd been at least a week. I just nodded at him while looking at him wide eyed. Still in shock from his call 45 minutes ago.

"Could we please do this elsewhere? No telling what type of technology the press has," I whispered.

We both turned our heads and looked down the long driveway and saw all of the news anchors for the evening news, in fact a couple could be for a major network or two. I can't believe people don't have anything else better to do than to drag my family through the mud. I took a deep breath, held it in and exhaled. I looked up at Sergeant Tanner, he shook his head slowly and mumbled something under his breath. I thought he had said ‘un-fucking believable’.

"Do you mind if we go inside?” Riley requested, “I know it’s the last place you want to be, considering what has happened, but it would be easier than going down to the station.”

"Sure, I'll just follow you since you know where they are," I murmured.

We turned and made our way up to my parents’ home. 15,000 square feet of museum quality furniture; yes, the house was beautiful because my mother wouldn't have it any other way. It was just her taste is a bit much. I guess she felt the need to have materialistic things since she had grown up poor. Besides, to me it never felt like a home, just a place to sleep and store all of my possessions that I just had to have. I loved the mansion; it’s just what it represented to me. It screamed, ‘look at me, look at what I have and what you don’t’, and because of it, I grew up with people thinking I was a spoiled rich girl that got everything I ever wanted. So very little did the outside world know.

Once inside the doors at the grand entry, the police were mulling around, some talked to each other, and some just watched and waited for the right possible moment to be called upon. There had to be at least 40 people in here. Not that the room couldn’t accommodate that many people.

"Do you think she really did it? I mean she was in Austin after all, right?"

"I heard the old lady was whoring around on Kincaid and had been sick of it being rubbed in his face."

“It could have been one of Kincaid’s whores, sick of being in second place with the old lady.”

I stood shocked hearing this. I couldn’t believe it, were these people actually saying this with my parents not even 30 feet away? I looked up when Sergeant Tanner slammed the door, and started yelling. "Are you fucking kidding me with this shit right now? You’re really going to stand there saying that shit?" Sergeant Tanner looked like he was ready to hit something, to dig it home to the two talking assholes. “Ladies and gentleman, I'd like for you to meet Ms. Alexia Kincaid," he announces to them rather harshly; even his eyes were narrowed down to mere slits. 

After what the good Sergeant said, all movement stopped, people looked up and stared at the commotion that had been going in the room. I looked at the small group before me with wide eyes, and you could almost hear a pin drop. I tried so hard not to start crying. I knew something like this would happen. I looked up at Sergeant Tanner before I responded, and took in a deep breath.

"Since you like to make jokes and trash talk my family, I want you to get the FUCK out of my house. Please leave your badge number on your way out and expect a call from my lawyer. Oh, while you’re at it, make sure to start looking for a new job. However, I really doubt anyone is going to hire either of you after this hits the national news," I sneered at all of them. I turned on my heel in the direction of the library. I was so shaken, and so pissed that I had unchecked tears rolling down my face. A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me around, and I stumbled into Sergeant Tanner’s chest. I got my balance somewhat and looked up at him.

"What the hell is your problem? Why did you just grab me like that?" I shout as more tears stream down my cheeks.

"Ms. Kincaid I think it would be a good idea for us to go into another room. That's where the crimes took place," he pleaded softly to me.

We went into the room my mother called the formal living room. To me it was a room that no one ever went into unless it was a client my father was trying to impress. The room had dark wood walls, with red and gold draperies, a marble fireplace with a marble mantle. It had a white and gold couch with two matching wing chairs. It also had some chase lounge thing that Cleopatra would have sat on. That same dark wood was used for the coffee table and side tables. The side table held two beautiful Tiffany style lamps. What made this room look so stunning was the very large hand loomed Oriental rug, the detailing was breathtakingly beautiful. For some reason all I could think of at that moment was that I hoped the rug didn’t get stained with blood. Yeah dead parents and all I could think about was a very expensive rug.

“Ms. Kincaid, when was the last time you talked to your parents? Do you know if they had any ‘normal’ problems? You know money, work or other people?” Sergeant Tanner questioned me. He seemed a little sad to be asking me all of this. My parents were only 10 feet away from me, and I could see the blood on the wall and my father’s foot. It just didn’t seem real to me at all. It felt like I was trapped inside of a really bad movie. I just kept looking at my father’s foot, waiting for him to jump up and yell “gotcha!”  I was trying to remember what Sergeant Tanner asked me. I guess I was taking too long to answer him back, because he bent down so I could see into his eyes and asked me if I’d like some water and if I wanted to have a seat. He sounded too far away, and I think his eyes were wide with panic. I could vaguely hear someone yell in a panicked voice “oh, shit she’s doing down, get a fucking medic!” before things went black.

A knock to my office door brings me back from that horrible moment, I didn’t want to relive it no matter what, and I was so grateful that Ava was not with me. I take a sip of water and get up to answer the door. When I open the door, I am greeted with the most incredible pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They are dark blue, almost midnight blue, with dark eye lashes. The eyes staring back at me are kind and safe feeling. I shake my head a little bit to clear it and to get with the program. I didn’t look him over before extending my hand, because all I needed to see were his eyes. 

“Hello, I’m Alexia Kincaid, thank you for coming to see me,” I politely utter.

“Agent Adam Chase, I’ve also brought along Agent Riley Tanner. I’m sure you remember him as Sergeant Tanner at the time. He’s with the FBI now,” Agent Chase explains in that normal non-descript cop voice.

I stare over at the now Agent Riley Tanner. He looks the same, only slightly older, a little bit of graying at his temples. However, his face still appears young, his dark eyes and full lips are the same. He even looks as if he is built bigger. I just look him over, shocked to see him again after all of this time.  I peer over to Agent Chase to get a good glimpse of him. He is built as well, he has dark blonde hair, with that messy bed head look that almost every guy has nowadays. He is in the FBI standard, dark navy blue suit with a grey tie. He also has full lips and a slightly cocky smirk, one that you almost want to reach out and slap off of his beautiful face; with his high cheek bones, and straight nose. He reminds me of David Beckham, not an exact replica but really close. Agent Tanner is almost an exact carbon copy  of that actor Jensen Ackles, just with a larger build.

“Hello Sergeant, I mean Agent, it’s been awhile. I was wondering what had happened to you? The last time I talked to you…hmm, I seem to remember you telling me that you never get involved with a victim, but that didn’t stop you from taking advantage of me, did it? No, I remember you telling me some bull shit line of, how you could lose your job and how sorry you were. I thought you were different than the rest of all of the people who only get close to me to try to get something for nothing. Well I’m here to tell you, I’m not that wide eyed, naive girl anymore. I won’t let some asshole who’s only trying to get a piece of my ass to try to ‘solve’ your fucking case. So, unless you have some useful information and are here on a professional capacity I suggest you leave,” I spout out. Yes, I know I’m being a bitch towards him and Agent Chase has no clue as to what’s going on, but ‘Agent’ Tanner needs to be put in his place. He used me to try and gain information about me and my family for his career. I had become fairly close to him during the most tragic time in my life. I trusted him, because he treated me like a normal person, not ‘The Alexia Kincaid’. I had fallen hard and fast for him.

Agent Tanner looks up at me with a sorry expression that I’m so not going to buy. I walk over to my desk to get some much needed space between that man and myself before I, did in fact, go to jail for assaulting a FBI Agent. I’m sure everyone would just love to read that, or watch it on the evening news.  Once behind my desk, I take a much needed deep breath and ask if they would like a drink. When they both shake their heads no, and sit down, I do begin to relax a little bit before sitting down myself.

“Umm… So, you two have a little history? This shouldn’t jeopardize the investigation,” Agent Chase clarifies. I’m thinking that he said that to reassure himself. You can tell that he is new at this kind of circumstance. So I just look at Riley, then to Agent Chase.