Blood Ties Read Free

questions, but it still hasn’t really sunk in.”
    “I know what you mean, Sandy.”
    “She was my mentor, Samantha. She taught me many things and guided me professionally. She kept me in line, showed me I had to be respectful to everyone I don’t consider a friend. She was amazing to me when I broke up wi th my boyfriend…It’s just simply unbelievable,” Sandy finished, bursting into sobs.
    I moved to her side and hugged her, trying to ease her out of her sadness.
    “It’s okay, Sandy, she loved you very much, too. The mere fact that Susie kept you as her assistant for over a whole year shows she was really happy with how you worked for her.”
    “I did my best,” Sandy said as she nodded through tears. “She’d probably get mad at me for crying in the office. She said never to show the human face on the professional place.”
    “That was her, but she would have made an exception today.”
    We remained seated for a few more minutes, Sandy sobbing and me patting her back quietly. After she was done, I asked for an address book that could help me get in touch with everyone she knew so that I could organize the memorial. Sandy complied , emailed me a digital copy and let me know she’d be glad to help me out in any way she could. I thanked her and took off.
    I drove home with an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Susie had been murdered, but I couldn’t think of a single person who could have done it. Reasons to be angry—there were plenty, but none worthy of murder.
    After parking the car in the garage, I rode the elevator to my apartment, still rummaging motives for killing Susie. I found a package waiting for me and picked it up, surprised. The card was addressed to me, but there wasn’t a sender’s name on it.
    I got into my place, locked the door behind me, and left the present on the dining-room table. I went to my room and grabbed the phone. I made reservations at an art gallery Susie loved, so the intimate gathering would take place there on Wednesday. I called a printer I knew due to my job and asked my contact to print a large photo of Susie and to send it, framed, to my house on Tuesday at the latest. I assured him I’d pay him double the fee, and he happily complied. I sent him a digital copy of the photo from my laptop. As I flipped through the pictures, I got weary and wistful, and decided to take another shower.
    As the hot water poured over me and had a relaxing effect on me, I heard a bang. Completely freaked out, I closed the faucets; I grabbed the towel and covered myself with it, opened the door and crawled out of the bathroom into the hallway. I smelled wood burning from the dining-room, so I crawled over there. I stared, scared, at the table. It was half burnt, and a huge part was missing—the part where I’d placed the present on.
    I jumped back on my feet and ran to get the fire-extinguisher I keep by the door —even if there were no apparent flames, I didn’t want to risk any erupting spontaneously or sparks setting my apartment ablaze.
    Once most of my dining-room was covered in foam, I went to my bedroom , got my cell phone and the card Detective Davies had given me, and called him, my hands shaking as I dialed.
    The doorbell rang and, as I waited for the detective to pick up, I peeped and saw the concierge on the other side. After I hang up, due to the detective ignoring my call, I unlocked the door and cracked it open.
    “Yes, Mr. Jenkins, how may I help you?” I asked, trying to sound as natural and calm as possible.
    “A loud sound was heard and Daniel, your neighbor downstairs, said it came from here. Is everything all right?”
    “Yes, everything’s absolutely fine. A slight cooking mishap —you can probably smell it! Don’t worry, it’s under control now,” I replied, smiling tightly.
    “Are you sure?”
    “Positive!”
    “Very well then, just give me a call if you need anything Miss Pearson, okay?”
    “Will do,” I replied as I closed and locked the door.
    I