Fucking hell. I wonder how she tried to do it this time. I love my mother, but I can’t deal with her shit right now on top of Sybil and keeping her safe. Her relapsing is the last thing I need right now. I know that I sound like a selfish prick, but I’ve been dealing with this since I was fourteen years old. Same shit different day with her. Shit is poison. It eats away at me. I don’t fear death. I fear being bat shit crazy like my mother. I pull a joint and lighter out of my back pocket needing to clear my head.
I take a hard drag and another as I stare at my phone. I power it off and tuck if back in my pocket. Sybil wouldn’t be able to unlock it if she got ahold of it but still, she might be able to get a good enough signal to use the emergency services dialer feature. I can’t take that chance. We both need to sit tight and wait.
Chapter 13
—Consuela
“Consuela, CNN is out front by the gate.”
“Of course.” I fake a sniffle and hold a tissue to my nose, rubbing it gently as to not rub off my makeup. “Invite them in. I’ll be down shortly. Show them to my private sitting room.”
“Will do.”
“Thank you, Heath. I appreciate you taking all of this on during such a hard time for me.”
He gives me a sad smile. “I’m glad Richard isn’t here for this. He’d be heartbroken.”
“Sybil was the apple of his eye.” I turn away mimicking the act of being on the verge of tears. Ding Dong the brat is gone. I smile once he exits the room and closes the door behind him. I need to prepare for the performance of a lifetime. I dab a tad more reddish-pink makeup on my nose to make it appear raw from how upset I’ve been. Giving myself a once over I push my girls up a smidge higher. I’m known for my beauty; I can’t be appearing anything other than my best for the camera. I squirt eye drops in my eyes and let them run down enough to show I’ve been crying. I am after all a devastated stepmother worried sick about her stepdaughter. I raised Sybil after Martina passed away and after the unfortunate incident with Richard. Heath was right this would break Richard’s heart, but I would have been there to pick up the pieces as I was there when he needed a mother for the brat in the first place.
Now they will all be together again. How special. Richard did love Sybil, but he loved her too much. I would catch him staring at her when she slept instead of coming to bed and lying next to me where he belonged. The way he doted on her was unhealthy. Disgusting really. A partner should come first. He married me however he was smitten with Martina’s mini me.
None of that matters any longer. Once they find her body, and the lawyers handle everything, everything will be mine as it should have been.
I descend down the stairway that overlooks the foyer.
Martina’s portrait used to hang along the wall watching over us all. I replaced it with one of my own. I wanted to relocate to a new home once we were married only Richard wouldn’t dare place the property on the market nor would he remove Sybil from the home she shared with her mother. I was always competing with her ghost. I pause outside of the sitting room I told Heath to show the reporter to. I smudge the makeup under my eyes a touch more and enter the room.
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The silver haired man stands to greet me. I accept his hands and he air kisses both my cheeks. “Please, call me Consuela.”
“Of course.” He licks his thin lips and his sound guy gets a mic on me.
“I do wish we were meeting under better circumstances, Mr. Halford.”
“Call me Sam.” I nod and we get started. He asks me the basic questions. “When was the last time you saw or spoke with Sybil?”
“She was home a few weeks ago, but we always had brunch on Sundays to catch up at her favorite restaurant.”
“Is it true that they found blood and signs of a struggle at her apartment?”
“I can’t discuss that at this time.”
“Did a neighbor report hearing a scream late in the night?”
“I believe so. Yes.”
I answer what I can without jeopardizing the investigation.
“If Sybil were watching what now what would you say to her?”
“Stay strong, sweetheart. We are doing everything we can to bring you home.”
“You think she’s still alive?”
The camera closes up on my face. “A mother has to hold onto hope. Sybil’s a strong and resilient girl. She’s smart.” I sniff and dab at my eyes with my handkerchief.
“If you could send a message to her kidnapper what would you say to him or her…to them.”