Finding Forgiveness

I leant down and kissed his cheek, “I love you too.”

He was then driven away along with all of the other cars except one.

I headed back up to the front door and herded my children, who had all been watching the whole ordeal, back into the house as I kept my peripheral vision on one of the remaining officers who slowly approached.

“I’m sorry Miss for this disturbance,” he said in a tone that couldn’t have meant it less. “This must be hard for you.”

“I don’t need your pity,” I snapped. “My husband is innocent.”

“Regarding that,” he began. “As his wife, I need to ask you a few questions. May I come in?”

I looked around the drive. There was nothing but the cop car and the three men that accompanied it. Apart from them I was alone with eight children and wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of letting a stranger in my house.

Especially this man. He was not particularly tall but stocky and stood with his chest out and a straight back. He had a grey stubbly beard, harsh eyes and a face as expressionless as cardboard.

I shook my head, “No.”

“Miss, we suspect that the allegation made against your husband may be false but we need your help to prove it,” he explained.

I didn’t reply.

“If he is not proven innocent, he will go to jail for a long time. What do you think would happen to you and your family without him?” he added. “I shouldn’t like to think how you’d manage-”

“Fine,” I interrupted. “But for the record, we’d be fine.”

I felt Lili wrap her arms around my leg as I moved to the side slightly and let the cop entered as all of my children glared at him.

“Quite a handsome brood you have here,” he pointed out. “Are they all yours?”

I nodded again.

“Where are you taking my Daddy?” Cato asked.

“We’ll talk about his later,” I said crouching down to their level. “But for now would you all go upstairs and play?”

They all eyed the cop one more time before following each other up the stairs just as I had instructed.

“And Cato, will you use the phone in the office and call Blair. Tell him to come over as soon as he can,” I added.

I then lead the cop into the kitchen as Cato went into his father’s office and the others all went upstairs. The officer placed some kind of recording device on the table. I put Zacharias down in his crib next to Stefano in the corner making my way back to the table

“First of all, I am the Cheif Investigator at WSP, Detective Clarke,” he began pulling a badge from his pocket and showing me the Washington patrol star logo. “Is your name Ella Jones?”

“Ella Loren actually,” I replied sitting down at the table.

“Is Leonardo Loren your legal husband?” he asked.

“Yes,” Not strictly true. We never officially married in the human way.

“Is your maiden name Jones?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any evidence of your marriage?” He asked.

“No,” I replied. “Why are you concerned about my marriage?”

“Earlier today we had a call from the Mexican police concerning your husband. A man has reported him for trying to kill him and kidnapping his girlfriend, whose name is supposedly Ella Jones.”

“I’m afraid you have the wrong people,” I replied my heart beating faster.

Andrea? How is this possible

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’ve been married to Leonardo for the last seven years. We have eight kids,” I explained trying to calm my nerves as the detective watched me intently.

“Have you separated at any point in your relationship?” he asked. “As in have you broken up or had time apart?”

“No,” I said. “And I certainly don’t have a Mexican boyfriend.”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“Have you travelled to Mexico in the last week?”

“Yes.”

“What was the purpose of your trip?” he asked.

“A vacation.”

“You aren’t on the border records. Did you enter legally?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

“Not exactly.”

“How exactly did you enter?” he questioned raising an eyebrow.

“Some back road. I don’t know exactly,” I replied vaguely.

“If Leonardo did kidnap you, any threat he may be holding against you is void. He is in police custody,” the officer replied.

“He didn’t.”

“Are you sure?” he questioned.

“Yes, I’m sure! Why have you arrested him on account of such a wild accusation with no evidence when you suspect it to be bullshit?” I asked. “I am here of my own free will.”

“I am just doing my job.”

The officer then reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper.

“This man,” he began pushing it now unfolded across the table. “Do you know him?”

Of course, I recognised Andrea immediately but I feigned a slow reaction with narrowed eyes and a tilt of the head.

“Who is he?”

“This man was found close to death by a friend with a bullet near his heart. It is a miracle he survived. When he was recovered enough to speak, he stated his concerns about a girl named Ella Jones and claimed that a man named Leonardo Loren kidnapped her after shooting him.”

I must have gone ghostly white in that moment. Andrea was alive. How was he still alive?