Page 80 of Scarred Sins
“After Jane’s husband tragically passed… she was in a dark place. She already had their daughter, Luna, before they got married. A bit early, but she had our full support because her husband was a wonderful man. His loss hit her very hard, and she swore off dating until she met Nelson.’’
Mom swallows thickly, and Dad continues speaking.
“Jane has always been the smartest one out of the three Campbell siblings,’’ he sighs. “The fact that she never saw any red flags is odd. We don’t know what he used to get closer to her, how he manipulated her, or if she was being forced into it. Noelle confronted Jane more than once, but it was always a lost battle because Jane just wouldn’t listen. Noelle was smart to bug Jane’s entire house, though.’’
Blair’s eyes flicker between my parents. “Yes, Arlo mentioned some recordings.’’
Dad takes Mom’s hand in his, holding it tightly. “On the day of Jane’s murder, Luna was at school. She had a play later in the week, so that day, and a few days prior, she would stay longer to rehearse with her friends. Nelson saw the opportunity, came into Jane’s home, and killed her.’’
Blair debates for a moment, eyes glued on Mom. She’s holding on strongly, but I can see the mask slowly starting to crack slightly. Mom’s the first one to look away, and Blair asks the questions she has.
“How did he kill her?”
It’s Mom that responds. “He used a gun. It was a quick death.’’
Blair nods. “What… what do the recordings say?”
“I’ll play them for you later,’’ Mom promises. “Overall, it was mostly gibberish. It sounded like Adams was either drunk or on drugs.’’
Blair’s brows crease. “If he was drunk or high… how did he manage a clean shot? If it was an instant, quick death, how would a drunk person do that?”
Mom sucks in a deep breath. “There were two different voices there. Both male, and after a lot of research, one man popped up.’’
Blair swallows a knot, and she already knows the name. “Paul Simmons.’’
Mom nods. “There was either a third man who took the shot, or it was Simmons. At this point, I can’t prove either of those. The reason we were unable to get Nelson arrested was because he ran off afterward, and that voice recording wasn’t enough. I needed more. With his influence and power, that sort of evidence is never going to be enough.’’
“What is the plan here?” Blair asks, releasing my hand and leaning across the table. “How do we go about this without rushing but also not taking too long?”
I step in, voicing my thoughts. “We need a team of skilled people,’’ I pause, looking at Dad. “You’ve been dealing with current trainees. Anyone with enough skill and dedication to do that?”
Dad snorts. “With enough money offered, they’ll all be dedicated. But if we’re talking skills – then Freya Embrys.’’
A loud groan comes from me, and I slump further into the chair, rolling my eyes at the mere mention of the name. Blair looks at me, brows narrowed at the reaction. With a sigh of disappointment, I cross my arms in front of my arms.
“Dad discovered Freya a few years ago. She’s a skilled chemist, with shitty luck in life. Dad built her an entire lab, and her specialty is poisons.’’
“Poisons?” Blair frowns a little.
“Any kind of poisons – she can make them. She’s even come up with a few original ones, and those are hella expensive on the black market. Most of them are untraceable and don’t show on tox screens or blood work. Very skilled.’’
“So… she just develops poisons?”
“More or less. If paid enough, she’ll poison the person herself. She may be an insufferable, annoying, despicable, cunning, and manipulative piece of shit – but she’s not a coward. Or stupid, no matter how much I want her to be.’’
Blair hums, something flashing behind her eyes that I can’t quite place. “Basically, she’s a poisoner.’’
For the first time since we sat down, Cove makes some noise. He snorts, then looks at Blair with his usual mask of indifference and boredom. He’s sitting on one of the benches, his phone in hand as he looks at her.
“Don’t call her that,’’ he advises. “I called her the Poisoner once and almost had my teeth knocked out.’’
“Alright then,’’ I straighten up in my chair, eyes occasionally darting to Blair to make sure she’s holding up alright. “We have Freya, much to my dismay. Who else?”
“How many people were you thinking?” Dad asks, standing up and walking to one of the lockers in the far corners. He shuffles through it, then comes back with a bottle of whiskey in hand and a few glasses. He pours for Mom first, then for himself. “Want some?” He offers.
Blair shakes her head, but I take him up on the offer, and he pours me a glass, then slides it over the table before sitting right back. Cove comes closer, grabs the bottle for himself, and goes back to sitting on the bench, scrolling through his phone.
“We need a rescue team. Their job will be to show up at the location and save the girls once they’re located. Let’s say about twenty men are there. That would be their only job.’’
