Brenda called for a personal driver for Jonathan. "Take him home. Or wherever it is he would like to go." She said over the phone. It was just the two of them in the drawing room on the first floor. It was as grandiose as one could expect a drawing room to be. So much it lacked warmth. Being in this room felt wrong. Like sitting on the good couch in his grandparents house. Jonathan sat on a large royal blue loveseat across from Brenda as she poured herself a cup of tea.
"You don't seem afraid of me, given you know what I am." She mused. "When Thomas found out he fainted right where he stood." She chuckled lightly.
"Thomas knew about this?" Jonathan immediately wondered why Thomas never said anything about it him.
"Would you have believed him if he told you?" She inquired. Jonathan considered her question as he considered all there was to Brenda. Just when he think he's coming to understand her, he's proven wrong yet again.
"Who's to say." He said. "You aren't pressing hard to convince me to have my daughter come here. Why?" Brenda took a long sip of her steaming tea.
"Because you'll change your mind soon enough." The smile she gave him was warm and kind. Jonathan didn't fear her or any of the women here because he didn't sense danger. It would make sense for Milla to come here. He'd like to lie to himself that he like to have her here, somewhere he can come to at any time. But there will always be the question of his ex. What about her?
On the ride back to the motel, he allowed his mind to go back to the "commune" he lived on when he was younger. Before then, he was like anyone else. Gut feels remained in the gut. And they certainly didn't put him into the shoes of the killer. Those were simpler times Jonathan longs for.
To know when something is wrong, turned his coily black hair gray at the temples. Watching the murder be committed made him paranoid of everyone and everything. He became a detective to help clean up the streets, save people and be the kind a hero that inspires more little boys and girls to help clean up the streets. Why was he so optimistic?
The driver, a frail man with long, thinning hair, dropped Jonathan off at the Motel.
"Have a good night, sir." Said the driver.
"Likewise." He sat on the bench out side the motel and called for called Milla. No answer. When he called again; his ex answered. She was hollering over blaring music in the background.
"Heeyy!" She said. He could smell the booze on her through the phone.
"You're not home?"
"Does it sound like I'm home?"
"Who has Milla?"
"My sister, chill." She shouted something to someone before saying, "What do you want. Jon?" He bit back the spite in him.
"I wanted to talk to Milla before she went to sleep. I'll call you in the morning." He said and hung up. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't have been mad. If he had Milla, he wouldn't have cared that she was out and about having a good time. The circumstances didn't allow him to see anything other than a woman who helped ruin his life, living her own life with no consequences. He sat there on that bench, dreading going back into that damned motel room. There was a looming feeling that told him it's going to be awhile before he sees Milla again. And with the way he's body is feeling, it's going to be a while before he gets to talk to her again.
Whenever he called for Milla, he felt weak, like he was suffering from the flu. Was it the hate in him that was making him sick to his core? He suppose. His whole world is miles and miles away from him and there is nothing he can do about it. He can feel deep in his heart that Milla missed him just as much as he missed her. But if it meant keeping her away from Little Cove, and a serial killer. Then he would have to just trudge through it.
Jonathan stood and took a shower. His mind was made up, he was going to find Thomas's killer, and then go home and fight for his daughter... God only knows how long that's going to take.
Back on the force, one of the deputies was having custody battles, Marcella Hernandez. She had left her son in the care of her husband's mother in Nevada while they gotten their life together in California. And then her husband started beating and cheating on her. As a matter of fact, her life was worse out in California than it as ever been. But eventually, with the help of Jonathan and his ex, Marcella was able to get a restraining order on her husband.
When it came to her son, however, things were a little rocky. Marcella's ex mother in law was bitter over the break up, and did what she vowed she would never do. Take Marcella's rights as a mother away from her. And for the first four years of her sons life, that's exactly what she's done.
Jonathan left the force right when Marcella finally won the custody battle. But by then, her son didn't know her, and wanted to go back with the woman who kept him away from his mother.
Jonathan can't wait four years. The woman Jonathan divorced, has a way of dragging things out. She knows what this custody battle is doing to him, she knows how hard it is for him to simply accept her rules. And she's just waiting for when Jonathan slips up, and the full custody would be ruled her her favor. So far, the best course of action has been to just play nice, and be civil.
How long? Even Jonathan's unsure.
His phone, buzzed on the night stand. It was Brenda.
-Changed your mind?-
It was frightening how deep she burrowed into his mind.
-I'm not saying that I did. But if I did want her to stay there, how will you go about it?-
-We'll simply call your ex wife and ask her if she'll allow Milla to come out here for your morale. Nothing crazy.-
Jonathan stared at the message trying to put together how that will go. Knowing his ex, it was bound to make his situation worst. Brenda sent another message.
-Don't worry, Jon. I know what I'm doing.-
-I hope so.-
-Is that a yes?-
-Yes... I miss my little girl.-