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“He refused medical attention,” Detective Carter stated, but Grason put a hand to his shoulder to silence him.

“Mr. Muntz, maybe you can help me understand something. Ms. Turner here all but confessed to stealing important documents from Mr. Marshall’s company. Aren’t the Marshalls interested in pressing charges?” Detective Grason asked.

“The Marshalls, believe that this is a matter best handled with their employee one on one. No. They do not wish to press charges.”

The detectives exchanged looks.

“Come, Ms. Turner, your friend Reese is here to take you home,” Mr. Muntz said.

“Reese?” Kassidy paused. “She’s here?”

“Yes, of course. She’s concerned.” The attorney smiled, but his stare was ice cold and piercing. She looked to the detectives. Both men stood silent with accusatory eyes focused on her. She didn’t hire the attorney and his presence felt wrong. Still what choice did she have, there was no one in the room with her best interest at heart. Kassidy limped out of the room and down the hall in a state of despair and confusion. Reese paced the floor at the front of the station. She looked up and saw Kassidy and started to approach.

“One moment, Ms. Turner,” Mr. Muntz said. “We need to be clear on a few things. You are not to speak to the press. You are not to speak to the police any further. If those detectives contact you, call me. Also, Mr. Henry Marshall will be in contact for a private meeting. Soon,” he said and placed a card in her hand.

“Two people are dead. The police think...”

“They are now my problem, not yours,” The attorney smiled. “Trust me. What I’m doing is in your best interest. Good evening,” he nodded once and then left.

“Angela, My God! Are you okay?” Reese went to her side. She threw her arms around her. “Are you okay?”

Kassidy nodded.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Reese whispered in her ear. Kassidy agreed and limped her way toward the door. When Reese held it open for her, she glanced back once more to the officers, shocked to see that several were watching her. Amongst them were the two detectives that had questioned her. One approached with his card.

“Ms. Turner, are you sure you want to leave with these people? I can protect you.”

“Turner? Her name is Angela Brown and she doesn’t. Back off!” Reese snapped.

“Take it,” Detective Grason advised her. “Your friend Daniel is dead. Remember that.”

She accepted the card from the detective. He looked at her and then Reese. “I thought you didn't believe me,” she said.

“This is Texas, ma’am, sometimes seeing is believing,” he said. “You ladies drive safe.”

“C’mon, Angela, come on,” Reese nearly shoved her out the door. The sunlight blinded her. She shielded her eyes and looked up to the sky. An eagle soared. She watched it glide against the wind.

“Angela? C’mon!” Reese said from the car. “What are you doing?”

“My name is not Angela!” she said. All the pent up frustration she had been holding back surfaced. Reese blinked as if shocked. Kassidy ignored her and went to the car and got in on the passenger side. Reese followed her and sped out of the police parking lot. It was a clear bright day, and the sun was melting snow off the roads and rooftops. There was no sign of the apocalyptic storm that had raged the past three days. No evidence of the nightmare she endured. She shook her head.

“What is your name?” Reese looked over to her.

“Kassandra Turner. But you can call me Kassidy.”

“Is it true? Are people dead? Were you with Tarek?”

“I’ll tell you everything. Right now, I just need silence. Please?” She glanced over to Reese. Her former boss nodded that she understood and kept her eyes glued to the road. Kassidy closed her eyes. Not sure what and who to trust.

46.

“I told you I don’t need a doctor,” Tarek seethed.

“Don’t get out of that bed, son, not until they tell me the same,” his father said. The doctor looked uncertain on his diagnosis. Tarek glared at his father.

“Sir, you have a concussion. The good news is we don’t see any swelling or hematoma. However, Mr. Marshall, you do have a pulmonary contusion to your lungs. It happens under severe blunt trauma. My guess is when the tree fell in on you; you took the hit in the chest.”

“How bad is that?” his father asked from his wheel chair.