Crossing Lines: A gripping psychological thriller (Behind Closed Doors Book 3) by Erin Cawood
Authors: Erin Cawood
Ads: Link
this to her.” She looks away. Does this mean Katrina knows how to dent Krystal’s armor too?
“But the police think Julia did it,” Krystal continues, “because she shot Wayne right before their eyes. But if you saw her, met her, you'd know Julia couldn't have possibly done that much damage to Katrina. I couldn’t have done that much damage to Katrina. She has six inches and twenty pounds on Julia, and neither of them has a violent bone in their bodies.” She grabs my hands and pleads, “You have to help me, Darryl!”
“I don’t know how I can help.”
“He's lying, D,” she insists. “I know Wayne is lying because he told me, tonight. He told me if I don’t stay out of his marriage, there’s nothing I can do to stop Julia from going to prison.”
What a sick sonofabitch!
I look at the crumpled piece of paper lying on the floor. I see the undercurrents of blame and self-loathing in that email. Julia clearly thinks she is to blame for whatever situation has driven her to resign from Krystal's employment. “Krystal, how do you know—”
“ I know. ”
My gaze snaps to hers, locks her green to my blue, and it tells me more about Krystal than she'll ever tell me herself. For a long, silent moment, I inspect the bruise starting to color around her eye. She really should have that checked out by a … doctor. So that’s why she’s here? I almost shake my head. It’s been a long time since I’ve practiced medicine in the physical sense of the word, and not the mental and emotional kind of practicing I do every single day. But I suspect any suggestion of taking her to see someone else would fall on deaf ears.
She allows me to gently touch the growing bruise as I say, “You really do customize your eyes with your outfits, don't you?” She nods. “Why don't you want people to know they're green?”
I must have said the wrong thing because she pulls away and stops my clinical assessment as she shakes her head, her bangs falling to shield the damage that had been covered by the sunglasses. “I have a very private and very quiet personal life, thanks to colored contact lenses and hair extensions, D, and I was having a lovely time being anonymous here in New York until Wayne found me. I have no idea why he's here, but he demanded I step aside and stay the hell out of his marriage. I refused.”
“He did this to you?”
“It was a heated discussion, tempers flared, and things might have gotten a little out of control.” She excuses it, but it’s her detest-filled rage, that touch of warning, that tells me this Wayne character is lucky to still be alive. My instinct also tells me this is the reason I’ve been kept around for all this time. I’ve been trying to figure Krystal out for five years and the more I’m learning about her, the less I know.
This is what she’s afraid of: she has no control over this situation. If Krystal is nothing else, she is a control freak. She needs to feel in control, especially now, when her temper is spiraling out of it. Her next words all but confirm this.
“I've never been scared of anyone in my life, D. But I couldn't … I … I froze up … I …” The disappointment flashes across her face as she admits, “I let him walk away.” She shakes her head and reveals a bandaged left hand as she snorts, "Put my fist through an antique vase in my sister's apartment after he left, though. What's a couple of thousand dollars between twins?”
“Considering what we talked about the other day, Krystal, I'd say that was the lesser of two evils.”
“You haven't met my sister.” She smiles, but it quickly fades. And just like that, the soft Krystal disappears behind the wall of ice again. It was like she flips a switch and turns the world the right way up once again. She stands taller, holding her head higher, in defiant confidence. This is the Krystal I know and am familiar with. Then she says, “I want you to come to LA to counsel my friend.”
I’m sorry,
“But the police think Julia did it,” Krystal continues, “because she shot Wayne right before their eyes. But if you saw her, met her, you'd know Julia couldn't have possibly done that much damage to Katrina. I couldn’t have done that much damage to Katrina. She has six inches and twenty pounds on Julia, and neither of them has a violent bone in their bodies.” She grabs my hands and pleads, “You have to help me, Darryl!”
“I don’t know how I can help.”
“He's lying, D,” she insists. “I know Wayne is lying because he told me, tonight. He told me if I don’t stay out of his marriage, there’s nothing I can do to stop Julia from going to prison.”
What a sick sonofabitch!
I look at the crumpled piece of paper lying on the floor. I see the undercurrents of blame and self-loathing in that email. Julia clearly thinks she is to blame for whatever situation has driven her to resign from Krystal's employment. “Krystal, how do you know—”
“ I know. ”
My gaze snaps to hers, locks her green to my blue, and it tells me more about Krystal than she'll ever tell me herself. For a long, silent moment, I inspect the bruise starting to color around her eye. She really should have that checked out by a … doctor. So that’s why she’s here? I almost shake my head. It’s been a long time since I’ve practiced medicine in the physical sense of the word, and not the mental and emotional kind of practicing I do every single day. But I suspect any suggestion of taking her to see someone else would fall on deaf ears.
She allows me to gently touch the growing bruise as I say, “You really do customize your eyes with your outfits, don't you?” She nods. “Why don't you want people to know they're green?”
I must have said the wrong thing because she pulls away and stops my clinical assessment as she shakes her head, her bangs falling to shield the damage that had been covered by the sunglasses. “I have a very private and very quiet personal life, thanks to colored contact lenses and hair extensions, D, and I was having a lovely time being anonymous here in New York until Wayne found me. I have no idea why he's here, but he demanded I step aside and stay the hell out of his marriage. I refused.”
“He did this to you?”
“It was a heated discussion, tempers flared, and things might have gotten a little out of control.” She excuses it, but it’s her detest-filled rage, that touch of warning, that tells me this Wayne character is lucky to still be alive. My instinct also tells me this is the reason I’ve been kept around for all this time. I’ve been trying to figure Krystal out for five years and the more I’m learning about her, the less I know.
This is what she’s afraid of: she has no control over this situation. If Krystal is nothing else, she is a control freak. She needs to feel in control, especially now, when her temper is spiraling out of it. Her next words all but confirm this.
“I've never been scared of anyone in my life, D. But I couldn't … I … I froze up … I …” The disappointment flashes across her face as she admits, “I let him walk away.” She shakes her head and reveals a bandaged left hand as she snorts, "Put my fist through an antique vase in my sister's apartment after he left, though. What's a couple of thousand dollars between twins?”
“Considering what we talked about the other day, Krystal, I'd say that was the lesser of two evils.”
“You haven't met my sister.” She smiles, but it quickly fades. And just like that, the soft Krystal disappears behind the wall of ice again. It was like she flips a switch and turns the world the right way up once again. She stands taller, holding her head higher, in defiant confidence. This is the Krystal I know and am familiar with. Then she says, “I want you to come to LA to counsel my friend.”
I’m sorry,
Similar Books
