Page 40 of Judas

“Mr. Branson.”

She could tell Judas was struggling to speak, much like when he told her his truth. Was he trying to hide something else?

“Well,” she urged, “What did he say?”

“Khara,” his eyes looked skyward as he muttered under his breath. “He wanted to know where your dad was. And you. When I tried to ask if his family was alright, he hurried to get off the phone.”

Eliza’s eyes narrowed. The words he spoke to her made sense and yet, they didn’t. What was he trying to imply? Exhaustion weighed on her face and she struggled to concentrate, “So, what? He and dad have a couple of cases they’re working on together. He probably wanted to follow up since he was out of the office today." Then she quickly corrected her timeline, "Yesterday.”

“Eliza, who else besides your dad, Mr. Branson, and their payroll department have access to the bank account?” Judas pressed her.

“Well, I guess I could get into it if I had the need,” Eliza shrugged.

He nodded, “Why call me to find out where your dad was? Why wouldn’t he just call Paul directly?” Judas wanted Eliza to come to the same conclusion he did because he didn’t have the heart to say it out loud. Although, he was becoming acutely aware of the realization he might need to do just that.

She stared at him intently for a moment before laughing, “You think Uncle Chet shot my dad? Oh my god, Judas! That’s ridiculous!”

He didn’t think it was ridiculous. As a matter of fact, he thought it might be exactly what happened, the only question was why? What could Paul have said or done that would have pushed Chet Branson far enough that he wanted his partner dead?

“I don’t think so,” his brow furrowed, “Have your dad and Mr. Branson had any arguments? Disagree over anything? Even something small?”

“No! Absolutely not,” her chortles were strained with exhaustion. “Judas, I know my dad is a lot to deal with, but you have to understand that Uncle Chet is the only family we have. I grew up with his three boys…I was there when Nevaeh was born!”

Judas took her by the hand, leading her to a chair. He recognized the weariness, “I know, but families fight… sometimes brutally. Are yousurethere’s nothing?”

Eliza’s face flushed with color, “Yes! How many times do I have to say it?! There’s no way! I’m done with this!”

Holding onto her arm, he continued to air his suspicions, “I’m sorry, Eliza, but I’m not buying it. I went to his house. The scene tells me that whoever did thisknewyour father. That he was comfortable with whomever came inside. Paul wasn’t expecting the person to hurt him.” Judas watched her wearied eyes carefully before he took the crumpled paper from his pocket, “I found this in the bushes outside…does it mean anything to you?”

She looked at the note, shaking her head. She had a headache starting, “No. Nothing.”

Flying out of her seat, she pushed through him toward the door. But as she laid her hand on the handle, a cloud of thought fell over her and she turned back.

“Wait a minute,” pausing, her stare turned hard as steel, “If you think that Uncle Chet wrote that check… why would he do it to thank you?”

“What?” Judas asked, confused.

She drew a sharp breath, glaring, “Why would Uncle Chet thankyou? You don’t work for him… or do you?” Her eyes narrowed, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Eliza crossed her arms tightly to her chest. Judas knew her body language and right now it told him that she was pissed. It was a look he’d witnessed a hundred times in the last weeks; except in those instances it was always directed at Paul.

“Eliza–” stepping toward her, he watched the lightbulb come on in her mind.

“I don't believe that Uncle Chet did anything. He's not that kind of person. He could never do something like that, but someone did. And then you got a check saying thank you. You helped them them. Whoever it was, you helped them, didn't you? That’s why you’re acting so… guilty. You told them where to find my dad!” she charged and her voice bounced off the walls of the tiny room.

Judas’ eyes went wide with panic, “I told Chet. He asked and I didn't think anything of it. I didn’t know this would happen.”

“Or did you? Because if what you’re saying is true… which I don’t believe it is… butif… then you shouldn’t feel guilty,” her words sizzled. Eliza’s mind was firing thoughts and ideas and assumptions faster than she could articulate. A horrific thought of betrayal seeped in from the darkest recesses, clouding her already manic mind. Even though she wasn’t consciously aware, the stories she grew up with resonated like a distant vibration, leaving a biased haze over her every thought. "I know he's not the greatest guy, but he's my dad, Judas! I know you probably hate him, but trying to eliminate him to make your life easier is psychotic behavior. Honestly."

Was her father set up?Did Judas help?

“Ahavah… please let's talk. Let me explain what happen–”

“No!” she yelled. “I don’t want to hear it! Stay away…”Her voice broke as she pushed him away and fought back the growing lump in her throat, "Kind of feels like history repeating itself, doesn't it." Turning back to the door, she yanked hard and Judas heard a painful whisper fall from her mouth, “You really are a traitor.”

And with her words, jagged and sharp like a weapon, his whole world crumbled.

Chapter twenty-seven

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