Marry or Else

####Chapter 2 – Genesis

Six years ago

Andrea’s POV

“It’s disheartening what we have witnessed. But I assure everyone that J&K Glamor Hotel will work together with the cops to find whoever is responsible for this ominous act.” Jasper’s rich brass voice laced with fake compunction echoed loudly in my ears.

“Sonofabitch!”

I fumed, unplugging the earpiece in self-imposed anger, and letting it fall to the table. I took my anger out on my computer, punching the pause button and freezing Jasper’s face on my screen.

Everything about him screamed-pretense, cover-up, and callousness.

This was what… the millionth-and-one time I was watching this video? Hoping I could find… something! Anything that would be a lead against this man.

But rewatching this video countless times was meaningless, not like I was waiting for J&K owner, Jasper Vasques to confess that he had something to do with Layla Moore’s death. Or at least, an acknowledgment that he knew who was responsible.

My cell phone vibrated on the table, and I was ready to swear at the caller when I turned and saw Ty’s face popping out on my screen.

“Hi, Drea,” he called me in his usual cordial manner when I took the call.

He was the only one allowed to call me Drea, not even my parents could do that. In the past years, Ty had become more than my P.I. He was a friend, a confidant, and the only one who knew my real identity.

“I’m impatient, Ty, give me what you have,” I spoke eagerly.

“Nothing.” He simply said.

“Nothing. Am I supposed to take that as a metaphor?”

“I have nothing, Drea. I always come up with nothing as far as this Moore’s case is concerned. It’s the same old story, nothing’s changed, and it’s not going to. It’s been six months already. Why won’t you listen to me and give this up?” the lecture was about to start again.

I whimpered audibly, leaning my elbow on the table.

“You know I can’t do that, not until I get to the bottom of this. I’m ready to do anything if it means I get to expose Jasper Vasques for the monster he is. The world needs to know how he kills these young girls and covers it up as drunk suicide.” I blurted out angrily.

“Shhh…Drea! Where are you?” he asked quickly.

“The coffee shop, why?”

“Goodness. Is anyone present as you make these wild accusations?”

“Puff.” I scoffed. “No one is here, and even if there were tons of people, I couldn’t care less. Everything I have said is the truth, I just haven’t found proof.”

“Exactly! Which is why you should keep your mouth shut until you do. You can’t go around making such comments, you could…”

“What, get arrested?” I interrupted with a snort. “This isn’t L.A. Ty, it’s Ontario. No one here is going to call and rat me out to Vasques.”

“You never know,” there was a sigh and a brief pause before he said. “Be careful, Drea, we don’t want a repeat of the last time.”

There was a flash of the last time Ty was referring to. I had been in L.A., and, unknown to me, someone had been tailing me. Thanks to Ty who found out, seized every information the guy had gathered on me, and threatened to publish a story about his past, he got the guy to back off.

“Last time, I was in L.A. I’m being careful, Ty.” I added when he tried to speak again.

“I hope so, Andrea. I sincerely hope you are.”

The thickness of his words and the seriousness in his voice couldn’t be mistaken, but before I had the chance to respond, there was a jamming sound from my phone notifying me of another incoming call. I pulled the phone from my ear and saw it was my mom’s nurse calling.

“I’d call you back, Ty, I need to take this call. It’s from my mom.”

“Is everything okay?” he inquired concernedly.

“Hopefully.” The call persisted. “I should find out.”

“Okay, bye,” Ty’s voice died off with the line.

I answered the incoming call from the nurse.

“Is my mom okay, Ms. Zane?” I quizzed apprehensively.

“No, Andrea.” The distress in her voice was enough to set my whole body on fire. “Your mother collapsed in the bathroom.”

“What?” I erupted to my feet. “Where is she? Where are you?”

“We have taken her to the hospital.”

Despite my anguish, the plural pronoun ‘we’ didn’t escape my notice. “We? You and who took her to the hospital?”

I heard someone call her name from the background. The deep, masculine voice sounded very familiar, but there was no way he would be there. I utilized the moment of Ms. Zane’s distraction to gather my computer, the files, journals, and magazines I had littered everywhere on the table in the portable bag I carried everywhere with me.

“Ms. Zane!” I yelled, drawing her attention back to me.

“I’m sorry, Andrea, but I think you should hurry down here.”

“Send the hospital address to me. Now!”

***

To be continued on the next page...