Cold (6 page)

Draya walked to my car and smeared the letter B. She looked at her finger and pointed it at me.

“Someone wrote it with red lipstick
,” as she wiped it off on her pants.

I was in disbelief.
‘Who and why the fuck would anybody want to do some shit like this,’
I wondered. Before I knew it, I was in tears.

Draya
hugged me and said, “Let’s call the cops.”

When the police finally arrived, they asked me a million questions. It’s like they were asking me the same question in different ways.

With tears in my eyes, I looked at the cop and said, “Officer, like I said before. I don’t know who would do this.”

As far as I was concerned, the only enemy I had was Melanie and she was dead.
They didn’t need my keys to unlock my car and that’s when I realized that my window was broken. There were papers everywhere and my leather seats were cut wide open. While Draya and I waited in her car, a cop came over to us and tapped on her window and told me to step out of the car. I couldn’t take any more bad news so I was hoping to hear something good.

Flashing an envelope in my face
he asked, “What is Melanie Scott’s mail doing in your car?”

I
was just as surprised as he was.

“I don’t know!” I yelled.

He paused and looked at me.

“Ma’am, I need you to come down to the station and give us a statement.”

I knew he wanted more than just a statement. He wanted a confession. I dealt with this type of shit at work on a daily basis. I wasn’t stupid. I also knew that if I declined, I would be a suspect. I had no clue why Melanie’s mail was in my car. Draya hugged me and drove away. I followed the cop and got in the backseat of his car. When I walked into the police station, I saw the same woman who I spoke to the other day. She looked at me and shook her head. While waiting in the interrogation room, I called Michael.

“Hello
,” he answered.

“Baby, I’m at the police station.
Someone broke into my car.”

Michael’s tone changed.

“What the fuck? Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

With tears in
my eyes and my voice trembling I replied, “Yes. Can you come to the station? I don’t have my car right now.”

He sighed
, “Of course baby. I’m on my way.”

After we hung up, the police officer walks into the room and sat down across from me.

“Cigarette?” he asked as he leaned over to hand it to me.

“No thanks. I don’t smoke
,” I replied.

“Ok Mrs. Moore, let’s get straight to the point. Why was Ms. Scott’s mail in your car?”

I couldn’t believe he was even asking me this. I was the damn victim too.

“Sir
, I’ve already told you guys that I don’t know. Someone broke into my car. They probably put it there.”

He looked at me like he didn’t
believe shit that was coming out of my mouth.

He leaned in and asked me
, “Do you know anything about the death of Melanie Scott? Were you involved?”

All of a sudden I felt dizzy.

“My husband is waiting for me outside. Can I go?”

The cop stood up and opened the door to let me
out. During the drive, I didn’t speak. Michael was driving like the car was on fire. When we got in the house, Michael laid me on the couch.

“Baby
are you alright?” he asked in a shaky voice.

I found myself breaking down all over again.

“No, I’m not alright. Someone wrote BITCH on my car and broke the window.” I then paused and braced myself. “They also found Melanie’s mail in my car and I have no clue how it got there.”

Michael looked at me like I was a ghost. His hands started shaking and his eyes got big.

“We’re going to clear this shit up Tiffany.”

We we
re silent the rest of the night and he held me until I fell asleep.

The next morning wasn’t any better. I
didn’t even want to go to work and I had to depend on Michael to drop me off and pick me up. Before I could get out of bed, Michael came out of the bathroom and shook his head at me.

“I don’t want you going back to work.”

I looked at him like he was crazy.

“Michael I have to go to work.”

I could see that he was really disturbed.

“No you don’t Tiffany. It’s too dangerous. Until we can catch who did this, you are not stepping one foot back in
to that place.”

He was right.  Someone was stalking me and i
f the cops weren’t going to investigate, I was going to take the matter into my own hands before it got too late. I went downstairs and checked the cameras. There was nothing suspicious going on. I sighed and went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine. I wanted to drink myself into a coma. Michael walked up to me and snatched the bottle of wine from my hand and threw it in the trash.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled.

“Tiffany I don’t want you drinking anymore. Your mind is already fucked up right now and so is mine. I need you to focus. We need to figure out who is doing this shit to you.”

He made me feel like I had a drinking problem.
I needed something to help ease my mind, not disturb it. I didn’t know who could be this evil. I didn’t have anything to go on. The police wasn’t helping out much and they were treating me like I was a suspect. I felt so helpless. I spent so much time protecting my clients from criminals, but who the hell was going to protect me? Michael couldn’t quit his job to stay home with me all day. I refused to live in fear. I needed some type of protection.

I turned to Michael and said
, “I need a gun.”

He shook his head and replied
, “Ok. I have a friend who has a gun range. Before we get you a gun, we have to set you up with some target practice.”

I was a little surprised that he agreed. I was expecting him to talk me out of it.

“Tiff, baby I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t stay home forever and I know I can’t keep you on a leash so if getting you a gun will keep you safe then I support this.”

He grabbed me and kissed me. I broke down and cried again. I’ve never been a crier and I don’t remember breaking down this much in my life, not even as a child.
I buried my head in his chest and cried harder. Michael then swept me off me feet literally and held me like a baby. That was the most comfort that I felt in a while. He carried me to the couch and he held me there until I fell asleep.                                                                                                                                               

The next morning Michael and I got dressed and headed to the gun range. When we got there, we were greeted by a woman. She smiled at us and extended arm to shake my hand.

“You must be Tiffany. My name is Nicole. Welcome to my gun range.”

I was expecting a man. He never even told me about this friend of his th
at had a gun range. We followed her and she walked us to our shooting stations. I was so nervous that my hand was shaking. I’ve never shot a gun before. I mean I’ve held several for demonstration during my trials. She handed me and Michael these ear muffs to protect our ears from the loud gun shots. I picked up the gun. It was heavier than I expected it to be. It felt like I was holding a brick. I held the gun up to the target and took a deep breath. The first shot I took hit the target’s arm. The blast was so powerful, it almost knocked me down. I looked over at Michael and he had already shot his target three times. I didn’t know he was that good. He was like a pro at it.

I held the gun so tight that I had the gun imprinted in the palms of my hands. I starred at the target like it was my enemy. I took another deep breath and fired. The second shot landed in its head. I was pretty impressed. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. The third shot, I aimed for the head again. It was like I was trigger happy because I couldn’t stop firing. My heart was beating fast and my adrenaline was pumping. For the first time in a long time, I felt in control. I was ready for whoever the fuck was coming for me.
By the time we made it home, I was so exhausted, I could barely stand. I didn’t even have the energy to prepare a meal or eat it.

“How do you feel?” Michael asked.

Putting my head down, I replied, “I feel a little better. I mean it relieved a little bit of my stress, but I’m not going to be happy until I find out who’s doing this.”

I sat on the edge of the bed with the gun in my hand. I kept checking the safety because the last thing I wanted to do was accidently blow my own head off. The longer I stared at the gun, the more I started to question my sanity.
‘Was I crazy for going this far? Was I even going too far?’
I wondered to myself. I put the gun under my pillow and    lay down. It’s the middle of the night and my house is pitch black. I can barely sleep. I turn over to hold Michael but I don’t feel him in bed. Before I can get up and cut on the lights, I hear glass shattering. I reached under my pillow for my gun but it not there. My heart started pounding so hard that it felt like it was about to burst. I then broke out into a sweat and my head started pounding. I was terrified. I slowly pulled the covers off of me trying not to make any noise. I could hear the intruder opening my kitchen cabinets and drawers.

‘
Oh my God we’re being robbed,’
I thought to myself. I ran to my closet and closed the door. I hid behind my clothes hoping that he wouldn’t find me if he came upstairs. I was praying so hard, I started shaking. I wasn’t ready to die and I didn’t want to die like this. I had no clue where my husband was and I didn’t know if the robber had got to him already. I couldn’t believe my gun wasn’t under my pillow. I was sure that I put it under there. It was dark, so maybe I just didn’t search well enough. I decided to go back and double check. I was scared but that was a chance I had to take just in case the robber was smart enough to search the closet. I tiptoed out of the closet and lifted my pillow up. There were still no traces of the gun. As I lifted Michael’s pillow up, I felt my head snap back and suddenly I was on the floor. They then kicked me in the stomach. The blow was so strong that I almost threw up.

“Please don’t do this to me!” I begged.

The next thing I knew I was sucking on the barrel of a gun. I couldn’t see the intruder well because they were dressed in all black. The only thing I knew was it was a woman because she spoke.

“I’ve been waiting for this a long time bitch
,” she said coldly.

I was screaming at the top of my lungs.
She pulled the trigger and everything went blank. I opened my eyes and I was still screaming. This time the lights were on and Michael was on top of me shaking me and yelling, “Calm down baby, it was just a bad dream.”

I looked around the room frantically. I couldn’t believe I was dreaming. I jumped out of bed and my gown was soaking wet. I was drenched in sweat. I couldn’t stop shaking. The dream felt so real. Michael pulled me towards him and squeezed me tight.

“It’s okay sweetheart. You’re alright. It was just a bad dream.”

I pushed him away and looked under my pillow and the gun was there and the safety was still on.
‘I’m going crazy,’
I thought to myself. I went to the dresser and checked my phone and saw that I had two missed unknown calls. I wanted to take my phone and throw it out the window. If this person was trying to drive me crazy, it was definitely working. I ran downstairs and checked the cameras and there was still nothing on them. I was very frustrated. I was starting to think that whoever was watched my house the day that the cameras were installed in my home. When I came to that realization, I got the chills. I was being watched even when I didn’t know it and I was being stalked in broad daylight. I thought about hiring a private investigator before things got worse, but it wouldn’t make me feel safe. I needed a damn security guard. I decided to take Michael’s advice and take some time off work. I didn’t know when I was going to return. The only thing I cared about was my safety.

Since nobody was willing to help me, I thought I’d do the unthinkable and go to Melanie’s house and search for clues that could bring her killer to justice. I was convinced that the person who killed her was the same person who was bothering me. When Michael left for work, I typed in Melanie’s address into my navigation and headed to her house
in a rental car. While I was driving, I kept looking in my rearview mirror. I was trying to look for cars that I thought were following me. I knew I was taking a big chance. The police viewed me as a suspect so if they were at her house when I pulled up, I was in trouble. When I entered the subdivision, I drove slowly searching for her address. I finally saw her house. I didn’t want her neighbors to identify my car so I drove around looking for a secluded area to park my car. I found a playground and pulled into a parking spot. Luckily there were no children or anybody else that could spot me.

I power walked across the street to Melanie’s house. I walked around the back and trying to see if there was a window that was opened.
Everything was locked. I tiptoed in the grass trying to look for clues but there was nothing. I then laughed. I’m losing my mind I sighed to myself as I turned around and walked away.                                                    

When I got to my car, I noticed that the door was unlocked, I honestly wasn’t sure if I forgot to lock it or not. I slowly opened the door and looked in the back seat before getting in the car. I couldn’t take this living in fear shit at a
ll.                                                                                                                                                 When I pulled into the garage, I could see two detectives standing at my door. I got out of my car with the keys still in the ignition.

“Can I help you?” I asked as I walked over to them.

One of the detectives looked at me and said, “We would just like to ask you a few questions about Melanie Scott. It is standard procedure for us to question all of her family, friends and colleagues.”

‘
Standard procedure my ass,’
I thought to myself.

“What exactly is it that you would like to know?” I asked with an attitude.

“Do you know anyone that would want to hurt her?”

I looked him straight between his eyes and said, “No. I don’t know anyone that she associated herself with. We only worked together. I didn’t deal with her or even talk to her outside of work.”

He looked at me like I was lying then he asked
, “Well did you two get along?”

I could tell where the detective was going with this. I immediately cut the conversation short.

“Look, I’ve already told the cops that I don’t know anything. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going into my house.”

Ever
since my car got keyed, I had been parking in the driveway hoping that I would catch the person doing it again, but this time I parked in the garage. I felt like the cops were becoming a problem for me now and the last thing I needed was them tearing up a damn rental car that’s in my name. I watched the detectives as they drove away.