Assumptions Abound

By Sage

Monét thought she had it all. Her parents gave her all the love and attention she desired. She is a beautiful young woman, full of life and heading into the prime of her life...

But beneath it all lurked secrets. Secrets so deep, they threaten to engulf Monét and everyone close to her. Fasten your seatbelts and enjoy the ride as Monét Worthington takes you on a journey through the ups, downs, twists and turns of her life.

Enter Detective Kelsey....

Someone is murdering the citizens of Cold Creek County and Detective Kelsey is determined to find out whom. Lonely and running from a haunting past, she finds solace in her work. She has pledged to solve this mystery at all costs. Will her life be the ultimate price?

Fireworks will ignite when paths are crossed and someone may not make it out alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sage
• Release date: Jul 9, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476352480

Sage

Sage is a self-made, self-published author. Reading and writing are life-long passions of hers. She has been indulging in this passion of writing since she was 13. Sage is determined to share her passion of writing with the world. Her mother was the first person to place a book in her hands. Sage grew up watching her mother read for recreation, which fostered her passion for reading. Her father taught her how to work hard at the things that she wanted in life. She began her career as a Secretary in a local school system with a high school diploma. She is now an Information Technology Auditor in a local school distric.t She worked at achieving her Master’s Degree in Computer Science in 2009. Sage continues to strive for better. She funnels that same determination and tenacity into marketing her mystery book series. Although, Sage enjoys reading all types of literature, she has a preference for mystery. It was her love of mysteries that stoked her interests in writing. The fact that none of the characters in the books were African-American resonated within her. She grew weary, searching for books that presented identifiable characters. She writes mysteries centered on characters that are close to the heart. African-American authors are a great minority in the book industry and those who write mystery books are an even greater rarity. Sage strives to pave the way for African American writers in this fantastic genre.

Book preview

Assumptions Abound

Leah Reynolds

Copyright Leah Reynolds (Sage) 2011

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, locations and references are all part of the author’s imagination and any similarities are purely coincidental.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my sons. Write down your dreams and make it your life’s work to follow each one.

I love you!

Acknowledgements

I would like to take this opportunity to thank those who encouraged me and helped me fulfill this dream. I would first like to thank God for this gift. Writing has always been a passion of mine. God, Thank you for helping me get to a place where I could present my gift to the world.

To my husband who has been there through it all. I love you, honey. Thank you for encouraging me to follow this dream. I am able to do what I do because you never stopped believing in me.

To my sister, thank you for being the first person to read my book. Your opinion matters more than anyone’s you have always had my back. Together we will do great things. Thank you for being in my corner.

To my parents and my uncle, thank you for encouraging me and for setting meaningful life examples for me to follow. Thank you for helping me reach every goal that I have set in life.

Lastly, I would like to thank you for reading my book. I hope that you enjoy it.

Love,

Sage

Table of Contents

Prologue

The darkness enveloped my room as I lay in bed with my eyes shut tightly and my arms wrapped across my chest. My heart beat steadily and rapidly against my chest. I said a silent prayer that tonight would be different, but I knew in my heart that tonight would be like so many other nights before it.

When I heard his footsteps in the distance I closed my eyes tightly and prayed that he would walk by my room. He quietly opened the door and pried the covers away from me. He lay in the bed next to me and I cried as another night passed by without an answer to my prayer. I decided that if I wanted to get away from him, I would have to take matters into my own hands.

He kissed my cheek and whispered good night in my ear. I didn’t respond. I was hoping that he would die right there. He didn’t care about me. My thoughts were swirling around in my head. I realized that nobody could save me from this monster. Then suddenly I heard a voice.

The voice whispered in the darkness, You must do it. Who else will protect you, but you? I listened to the voice. Have you ever killed anyone? said the voice. No! I responded. I was only seven years old. I knew nothing about death. I thought to myself. The voice heard my thoughts. True you are only seven, but we can show them that it doesn’t matter how old you are. You can still make a difference. The voice calmly replied.

And so it began……

Have you ever killed anyone? I have and I must say it is the most exhilarating experience in the world. If I had to quantify it I would say that committing a murder is more exhilarating than sky diving, surfing or skiing down a hill at top speed. There is something powerful about watching the life leave a person’s body and hearing them take their last breath.

The first person I killed was my mother’s boyfriend Luciano. He was a handsome Italian man with dark hair and dark brown eyes. I remember everything about him. He would touch me in my special place, even after I told him that he shouldn’t. He took advantage of me and I promised myself that I would never let another person take advantage of me again.

I took a knife out of the drawer in the kitchen and hid it under my pillow. I knew that once my mother fell asleep, he would creep into my room and that particular night I was ready for him. I pretended like I was sleeping when he slowly opened the door and walked into my room. I felt him climb into the bed behind me and snuggle close to my back. I felt his breath on my neck. When he reached around to take my night gown off of me, I grabbed the knife. Before he could react, I shoved the kitchen knife into his throat.

I still remember the look on his face. His eyes bulged out of his head and he grasped at his throat trying to stop the blood. My heart was beating so fast and I felt a rush of pure adrenaline. I watched him closely as he struggled to breathe. I put my ear close to his face; smelling the metallic scent of his blood and listening to him mumble inaudible words. I watched intently as his chest rose and fell for the last time. As I watched the life leave his body, I knew that this could not be the end.

Luciano died that cold rainy night, he was the first person to meet the real me. Luciano met Victoria as his life slowly crept away from his body.

Chapter I

My name is Monét. I was named for Claude Monét the French impressionist painter. My mother chose my name. I loved hearing the story of Claude Monét. My mother would paint with such intensity as she recounted the difficult, yet ultimately successful life Monét lived. She said it was because of his unwavering faith, strong will and imminent success that she gave me his name.

As I watched her paint soft lines across the blank canvass, she smiled at me and said, When people name their children, they choose names that sound nice, but have no real meaning. That is something I could not do. Your life is more precious than anything. The day that you were born, I looked into your eyes and I saw the same tenacity that fuels my life. I told your father that you were more than an Iesha, Kelly or a Kristin. You are a Monét. You are an artist in your own right.

I have been drawing since I was three years old. My mother put a pencil and a blank sheet of paper in front of me as she gently guided me to create. She said that she wasn’t sure if I fully understood her as I looked up at her, but I picked up the pencil and began to draw and I have been drawing ever since.

My father once told me that I should take stock of my failures along with my achievements in life, because both will guide me. My father was such a philosopher and a teacher. I wonder about those who give great advice but have trouble taking their own. Well here I am taking stock of my life from inside a small room in solitary confinement, wondering how the hell I made it to this place.

My story began with my first relationship. Everyone remembers their first love. It all began with Cameron. Cameron and I have been together since we were kids. We used to play basketball, video games and watch movies together. He was my ace. He was my first kiss; my first love and the first person I let touch me in that special kind of way. I met Cameron in first grade. He transferred to our school when he moved from St. Thomas, USVI to Maryland or the Mainland as he called it. Everyone at our school thought Cameron was so cool, just because he was different than us; he talked with a smooth island accent.

It seems kind of crazy, but I only remember second grade. For some reason the time in between 7 years old and 12 are completely a blur to me. Maybe telling my story will help me remember. Okay, back to the story…

I had a crush on him starting from the first day we met. He picked on me, like all boys do when they like you; at least that’s what my mother told me. We were good friends from elementary school until we got into high school. That was when he asked me to be his girlfriend and I happily obliged. We both grew up in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. I lived with my Dad and my stepmother Nicole.

My father was good to me. I actually loved my home life. My step-mother was nice, she didn’t meddle in my business and she never tried to be my mother. Over the past 7 years that they had been married, my step-mother and I grew very close. I looked up to her and valued her opinion on life. She had a Master’s Degree, numerous certifications and worked as an Accounting Manager. I entrusted her with my secrets and loved her for the guidance that she provided me.

Don’t get me wrong I absolutely adore my mother. Her name is Denise and she is truly a wandering spirit. She’s an artist. My mother is a wonderful painter and on occasion she writes poems, which I keep in a binder in my room. At any given time she will pick up and move to another state or country. She spent the last nine years living in Europe and Spain. I write to her often and we also speak on the phone, but my father decided to raise me since he could provide a more stable home than my mother.

Currently, she lives in Southern Maryland, with her new boyfriend, Marcel. My mother changes boyfriends as often as she changes residences. I talk to her on the phone often and I see her mostly during the summer and when school is closed for holidays. Talking to my mother is truly a breath of fresh air. Where my father is particular and plans every moment of his life, my mother is the complete opposite. She acts on a whim and rarely worries about the minor details. I love that about her.

Aside from my mother, Nicole and Jessica I don’t maintain many female relationships. I find girls and women to be too catty and cliquish. Jessica has been my friend since we were five years old. We met my first day of Kindergarten. I was a meek child. My parents had recently divorced and we had just moved to our new home in Bethesda, MD. I remember being so excited about my first day of school, until I got there. This tall girl with four braids in her hair kept staring at me. She was so mean to me throughout the day. She would trip me when I was walking by her desk and she loved to pull on my ponytail. I allowed her to pick on me for a few weeks.

During our field day celebration at school she threw dirt in my hair. I was so upset I came home from school in tears. I finally told my dad about it and he told me that I must stand up for myself. He said the best way to put an end to bully’s is to not allow them to intimidate me. So the next day I went to school ready to take her on. I waited until recess, where the drama usually started. When she tripped me I hauled back and punched her in the nose. She looked at me with a terrified expression on her face as her nose began to bleed. I watched her bleed and told her every time you touch me I am going to bloody your nose. She ran and told the teacher that I hit her.

The teacher pulled us aside and asked us what happened. We both spent two days standing on the wall watching our friends play during recess. After serving our time during recess we were told not to fight again or we would be suspended from school. I didn’t care about the punishment I was so proud of myself for standing up to the bully that I walked around a little taller in school. None of the other kids bothered me because I had stood up to Giant Jess as they called her. Her real name was Jessica. She continued to bully the other kids, but she made sure not to bother me anymore.

Then suddenly she stopped coming to school. All the kids at school were thrilled because they didn’t have to deal with Giant Jess. We had so much fun without her that we didn’t realize that a full month had passed. Jessica returned to school in January. She had been absent for 2 full months. When she returned she looked different. Instead of being mean to everyone she became very quiet. Everyone pretty much ignored her, but I actually felt sad for her. She sat alone at lunch and during recess she didn’t play with anyone she just sat on the bench watching us play.

I walked up to her and asked her what was wrong. She told me that her mother died in a car accident and she was very sad. She began to cry. I hugged her while she cried. She told me that she was now living with her father and her younger brother and she missed her mom. I told her that if she needed a friend or someone to talk to I would be her friend. And we have been friends ever since.

Now that I look at it I realize that we both needed each other. I could relate to her. At that time my mother was living in Europe and I rarely saw her. Sometimes I felt so alone having just my father at home with me. The only time I felt close to my mother was when I sketched and painted. I felt like I could channel her spirit when I was doing something that we both loved and we both had in common. When I wasn’t sketching I was hanging with my best friend, Jessica. Jessica and I spent so much time together, filling the void that we both had in our lives. She spent every weekend at my house and we did everything together.

While I was in school furthering my education, Cameron was in the streets, furthering his. I look back at my life and I wonder how I was even attracted to someone who cared so little about their future. I had plans. My father always told me that if I fail to plan I will plan to fail. That was the way of life. I planned to attend the University of Maryland and receive a degree in Accounting just like my father.

He provided well for us and I wanted to be able to provide for myself when the time came. Cameron on the other hand loved fast money. He didn’t understand the importance of college and sadly he didn’t have any examples to follow in life. He confided in me once that his mother worked too hard and it made more sense to help her with the bills than it did to chase a college dream which would cost her more money. It’s really interesting how people can view life so differently and still manage to love each other.

Cameron was raised by a single mother who worked very hard to take care of him. Cameron didn’t talk much about his father and I don’t remember him as a child. I felt bad for his mother. She worked two jobs the entire time I knew her. She was a manager at Home Depot and in the evening she worked at the local 7-eleven. She never really had time to rest or time to herself and it eventually showed on her face and in her weary tone. While she worked Cameron roamed the streets.

My father purchased a Honda Civic for me to drive as soon as I got my license. It wasn’t brand new but it took me where I needed to go. Since I had the car, I would pick up my friend Jessica from her house and take her to school with me. Jessica and I would take that little car everywhere. We would go to the mall on the weekends and after school we would hang out together at Borders or pigging out at the nearest restaurant.

Cameron had an issue with Jessica because he felt like she took up too much of my time. He always complained that she was trying to split us up. I just ignored that. Cameron has an issue with jealousy. He can’t take anyone being in my space but him. Sometimes it pisses me off and other times in some sordid way I like the attention.

The summer before my freshman year in high school, Nicole announced to us during dinner that she was pregnant. My father sat at the dinner table beaming with pride. I was excited about having a baby brother or sister. In the back of my mind I wondered why they waited so long to have a baby. My mother wondered the same thing, when I told her during one of my visits to her home in Huntington, MD. She lived in a large five bedroom home sitting on the edge of the Chesapeake Bay. I loved visiting her home.

It was something about being so close to the water that gave me so much peace. I would lie on the beach with my eyes closed and just meditate. My mother always lived near water. She said that the water helped her create and it gave her a sense of peace. She said that we both had that in common. We would sit on the beach for hours, not saying a word just watching the waves come in to shore and go back out to the bay. Every time I visited my mother she begged me to stay in Southern Maryland with her.

As Nicole’s belly grew and grew, I began to feel more excited about the baby. We shopped constantly for baby items. My father didn’t really seem interested in anything other than the cost of the things we were buying. Nicole and I never passed a baby section at the store without purchasing something. Nicole became very sick towards the end of her pregnancy.

She was tired a lot and ultimately took a leave of absence from her job so that she could rest until the birth of the baby. Jacob Xavier Worthington was born on April 9th and life as we all knew it changed. Nicole appeared more eager to deal with the baby than my father.

I noticed that as Jacob grew we began to see less and less of my father. He would spend longer evenings at work during the week and on the weekends he would spend time at his Brother Steve’s home. My uncle Steve was my father’s youngest brother and he was so cool. My father has two other brothers that lived in North Carolina. Uncle Steve is the eternal bachelor. He lives nearby in Laurel, MD and we would visit him on occasion. He is a corporate attorney and travels around the country representing big business or the man as I often call it. He gets a kick out of that.

It was quickly approaching Jacob’s first birthday when things at home started to fall apart. Nicole and my father argued a lot about his long absences from home. My father would leave after the argument only to return a few hours later once Jacob and Nicole were asleep. I figured something wasn’t right with them, but I tried to mind my own business. In fact, while they were home arguing, I often found refuge at Cameron’s home or hanging out with Jessica.

By then Cameron had made a name for himself. He had become the go-to man for everything from weed to Percocet pills. His drug dealing often bothered me, but it provided us with plenty of money to do whatever we wanted to do. His mother despised what he did. She made it a point to remind him that living this type of life would lead to turmoil and trouble.

Cameron used to complain that his mother nagged him too much about how he made money. She refused to use any of the blood money as she referred to it. He tried giving her extra money that he made and she would refuse it, so instead of giving the money directly to her he would pay household bills with it without telling her.

I would go to school