The Girl Who Saw Too Much (The Firth Twins' Series Book 1) Read online

  “No. What did the lawyer say? Is Dad dead?”

  Eric jerked his head back. He hadn’t expected such a morbid question right off the top. It sounded like she was hoping he was. Now that he thought of it, so was he. But after further reflection, he shook his head.

  “No, I don’t think so. The lawyer only said he had a message from him.”

  “What message?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged out of habit even though she couldn’t see the gesture.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “I haven’t called him back yet. I wanted to know if he had contacted you before I did.”

  “Like I said, he hasn’t. So what are you going to do?”

  He sighed with reluctance. “Well, I guess I’ll call him and find out what he has to say.”

  “No!” Her voice cracked. She coughed before adding, “I want to be with you when you call. I have tomorrow off. Why don’t I come to your place around noon?”

  “Or I could come over to your apartment instead.”

  “No, it’s better I come there. I need to get away for a while.”

  “What’s wrong?” He knew the connotation. Their connection as twins revealed to him all he needed to know. It didn’t matter that they were hundreds of miles away. He sensed the tension in her voice. It had something to do with Jason and she needed some space.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

  “All right. But if you can’t wait and need to talk about it before then, just call me, okay?”

  “Thanks, Eric. But it can wait until then.”

  “Fine, so I’ll see you around noon. Maybe we can go out for lunch before or after the call.”

  “Let’s make it before. Something tells me whatever the lawyer has to say will ruin our appetites.”

  “Yeah I think so too. Bye, sis.”

  Once he hung up, he drummed his fingers anxiously and nervously across the back of the blue plastic casing of his iPhone. It made a hollow rapping sound.

  Noontime was just sixteen hours away. Then he’d get the answers he’d been waiting for from Jessica and from Mr. Archer.

  Chapter 3

  When Jessica awoke at six a.m. the next morning, she hadn’t expected there to be fifteen text messages and ten voice messages on her cell phone, plus three more on her answering machine, all from Jason.

  The earlier messages he’d left her were angry and rude, the intermediary endearing and apologetic, while the most recent were nasty and hurtful. Jason’s mood swings and irrational behavior during this break up were quite unnerving.

  Things would get uglier before they got better. Supposedly Jason didn’t want the gift he’d given her returned. That had been an excuse to see her, to try to win her back. He refused to admit, let alone accept, that it was over. They could never go back to what they had because everything had changed, so did they.

  But she had too many more pressing things to deal with today than Jason’s temper tantrums. She had to head out to New Jersey to meet Eric. First grabbing her keys, purse, and cell phone, she then hurried to the garage. As she got into her old 2003 red Corolla, she made sure to text her brother she’d be arriving around eleven thirty. They could go out to lunch once she got there to discuss what they’d say to the lawyer.

  The hour drive felt like half the time since there was no traffic and the sunny day brightened her mood. She listened to her flash drive filled with her favorite songs, most of which were a decade old. It was funny how everything, even music, was better in that time period. Life was so much easier when she was a student and not an FBI agent who dealt with crime and murder on a continual basis. Her innocence was long gone. She had seen some pretty horrifying things as a criminal behavioral analyst in the Bureau in recent years, horrifying things that could never be erased.

  Sometimes she wished she could travel back to a simpler, chaste time and erase all that ugliness she’d witnessed and investigated. But then again if she did that then she’d lose the strong and mature woman she had become. She liked who she had transformed into. No, scratch that, she loved who she had become.

  And even if she could go back in time, things wouldn’t be like she remembered them. A person’s memories were faltered, or rather filtered. She may remember those goods memories, but how accurate were they really? How much sadness, pain, and anger had she forgotten or unconsciously ignored that was intertwined between those supposed good memories? Most probably a lot.

  No, she didn’t have to look to her past for happiness. She needed to look at the present and the future. Somewhere along the way she’d find it. It could be in a year, a month, a week or an hour from now. Who knew when? But when it did happen she’d embrace it and relish it for as long as it lasted, because she damn well deserved it. So did her brother Eric.

  He’d had it tough this past year. He had not only lost his girlfriend in a car accident ten months ago, but his best friend as well. He’d sunk into a deep depression after the tragedy. He took a couple of months off work to mourn. Therapy had helped, but it took a while before he healed.

  She sighed. Life was tough. Damn tough. But after everything Eric and she had gone through in their lives so were they. They’d get through whatever bullshit that passed their way. Even this supposed message from their father.

  She had no inkling what it could be, but one thing was for sure, it wouldn’t be good news. Anything that involved their father was tainted bad. It was ugly and evil just like him. In less than an hour they’d find out exactly what it was.

  When she turned on the street to Eric’s apartment building she was surprize to see Eric waiting for her on the front porch. He was hunched over on the top step scrolling through something on his cell phone. She coughed to get his attention, then hugged him tightly smelling his mild scented aftershave. He most definitely was a creature of habit. He’d been splashing Aqua Velva on his cheeks every morning for the past nine years, ever since she had gotten him a bottle as a stocking stuffer one Christmas. More good warm feelings descended like a cuddly baby’s blanket on her as she thought back to all the fun Christmases and holidays she and her brother had shared.

  “It’s good to see you. I’ve missed you so much, you know.” She slapped him gently on his upper arm.

  He nodded, spreading his full lips into a sweet smile. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  She lightly rubbed his black coarse stubble on his cheek. “What’s this thing you’re growing?”

  He brushed his open hand across his chin, making a bristling sound. “You like it? It’s been like this for six weeks. Jamie likes it.”

  Jessica’s interests piqued. She cocked her left eyebrow. “Oh, who is Jamie?”

  His crystal blue eyes sparkled. “A girl I’ve been dating.”

  “Is it serious?” she asked, although she knew from his perky attitude and body language that it was.

  “Well, it’s too early to say.” He shrugged.

  “But you believe it’s headed in that direction,” she replied.

  He laughed, squinting at her. “You using your FBI training on me, sis?”

  She shook her head. “Nope, just our fraternal connection.” She nudged him. “I’m glad to see you are dating again. Frankie would have wanted you to, you know.”

  Eric’s eyes saddened for a moment at the mention of his deceased girlfriend’s name. But he sighed deeply and nodded. “Yeah, she would have.”

  “So when do I get to meet Jamie? Or is it too soon to have her meet your twin?”

  “No, it’s not too soon. I told her you were coming today.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other while he slipped his hands into his jeans pockets.

  She responded to his uneasy behavior. “But you haven’t told her why I was coming?”

  He bowed his head, although he never broke eye contact. “No, I haven’t told her about our past or that our father killed our mother and brother and is spending life in prison.”

  Jessi
ca rubbed his shoulders in support. “Of course you wouldn’t lay that on her just yet. You should wait awhile, get to know each other more before you start to tell her.” Jessica had had two other boyfriends before Jason, Neither of them were serious, so she never told them about her horrible past. And as for Jason, well, she waited until they had dating for several months before she confessed the grizzly story, right when she knew she was starting to fall in love with him and him with her.

  “Exactly, I’m going to tell her soon, but I’ll take it slow and ease her through one truth at a time.”

  “Wise words, bro.” She took a deep breath as she glanced over her shoulder. “Where do you want to go eat? I skipped breakfast, so I’m starving.”

  “Well, that depends if you want healthy or greasy food.”

  She hesitantly suggested, “Would you be angry with me if I said greasy, like a greasy burger and fries?” Her brother was an avid health food buff who made sure he ate a balanced diet high in protein and low in carbohydrates and fat. He worked out every day of the week.

  Although she enjoyed her tri-weekly jog that was as far as her healthy lifestyle went. She loved anything that what was salty, sweet, or greasy. It was one of their many character differences.

  He chuckled tilting his head back. “I knew you’d say that. No, I don’t mind. There’s a deli nearby that serves amazing burgers and fries, plus they have delicious veggie dishes, too. We can walk there if you’d like instead of taking our cars.”

  She looped her arm around his. “Well then what are we waiting for? The walk will help us burn the calories I’ll intake.”

  He shook his head in mock disappointment. “You wish. Do you realize how much exercising you have to do to burn off the eight-hundred-something calorie meal you’ll be ingesting?”

  She lifted her finger to silence him. “Don’t even say it. Don’t you dare ruin this for me. Just let me indulge and pay for it later, all right?”

  They were both joking as they strode along the barren sidewalk when Eric’s cell phone began to vibrate. Glancing at it, he frowned. “It’s Mr. Archer’s number. I recognize it because I wrote it down last night. How did he get this number?” he asked the rhetorical question.

  “I don’t know.” Jessica still responded, although it was more to herself rather than to her twin. “Are you going to answer it?”

  “Do I have a choice?” He stared at her bewildered. The look in his eyes said he was asking her what they should do next. Should they allow their father’s message to be delivered? Or should they silence it forever?

  She peered at the phone nodding. They both needed to go through with this.

  He replied through the speaker phone. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Mr. Firth. I’m sorry to bother you again. Did you get my previous message?”

  “Um, yeah, I did. How did you get this number, by the way?”

  “Oh, someone in your department gave it to me when I called this morning to speak to you. They said you’d taken the day off.”

  “Yeah, I did.” Eric looked at Jessica. “I’m spending the day with my sister.”

  “I see and I’m sorry to disturb you, but your father called me again today and wanted me to try to contact you once more.”

  An uneasy tingling sensation crept up Jessica’s spine when she heard the lawyer mention her father. She leaned closer to the phone and said loudly and clearly, “Why does he want to talk to Eric?”

  “Ah, that’s Jessica speaking,” Eric informed the public defender.

  “Oh, I see. Hello, Miss Firth.”

  “Hi, Mr. Archer. Is this message from our father for Eric only, or also for me?”

  “It’s only for Eric.”

  Jessica waved her hands in the air in exasperation.

  While he stared at his sister, Eric asked, “Why is the message only for me?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Firth. I didn’t ask him.”

  “So what is the message?”

  The lawyer hesitated. “Am I still on speaker phone?”

  “Yes, I want Jessica to hear this.”

  Mr. Archer sighed as if he didn’t appreciate being put in this difficult situation. “All right.” There was a moment of silence before he continued. “Your father wants to see you.”

  “What?” Eric’s features tensed, his brows furrowed. “Who cares! I don’t want to see him!”

  “Your father is dying, Mr. Firth. He said he doesn’t want to die before his name is cleared. He wants you to prove his innocence.”

  Jessica and Eric gawked at each other. Were their ears playing tricks on them?

  Chapter 4

  Jonathan Archer reviewed the eye witness’s written testimony for his son Vincent’s upcoming case. His son was defending the accused in the Franklin murder case and had asked Jonathan to work as a consultant since Jonathan had covered several cases similar to this one in his long career.

  The accused, Mark Aston, the ex-boyfriend of the victim, Rachel Franklin, had been identified as the killer by this witness. From what the witness, Pamela Smits, had stated, she’d entered the apartment she shared with Rachel Franklin around seven fifteen on the evening of November 24th, 2016.

  She’d witnessed the accused standing over the victim’s body holding the bloody knife. She had then run out of the apartment down to the lobby of the building to call 9-1-1, where upon she waited until the police arrived to investigate.

  The police officers arrested Mark Ashton an hour later. Apparently, from the witness’s testimony, the victim was still alive when she first entered the apartment. Although Rachel Franklin was laying on the floor, Pamela Smits had said she’d seen her move her head.

  But when the police had arrived at the apartment about ten minutes later, Rachel Franklin was declared dead. The defendant, however, claimed his innocence. He had testified that when he had arrived at the apartment, the front door was already open. He entered the premises and saw Rachel Franklin’s body on the kitchen floor. She was already dead,

  The forensic autopsy on Rachel Franklin’s body didn’t prove or disprove Pamela Smits’s testimony or Mark Ashton’s account of the events. The coroner’s office determined the time of death was between six thirty and seven thirty that evening.

  Mark Ashton’s prints were the only fingerprints found on the butcher’s knife and on the body. The victim’s blood was on his hands and clothes. There were threatening messages from the defendant on the victim’s cell phone and answering machine. Mark Ashton had a record of armed robbery and assault.

  So much evidence, circumstantial or otherwise, was stacked up against the defendant that it was virtually impossible to prove him innocent.

  Jonathan believed Mark Ashton was guilty and he was pretty sure his son did too. How could a lawyer defend a client who he thought was guilty? It was virtually impossible to win the case if he did.

  Unfortunately Vincent had joined the office of Ragthorn and Fitzgerald only a few months ago. Being the lawyer with the least experience and seniority in the firm, Vincent didn’t get to choose the cases he worked on. The cases and clients were assigned to him just like this case had been.

  Presumption of innocence was a legal right. Everyone was entitled to a fair trial, including Mark Ashton.

  From Jonathan’s many, many years of experience in criminal law, he doubted the defendant would be found innocent. The best and only line of defense they should work on was bringing the charge of first degree murder down to second degree murder. They should say that Mark Ashton hadn’t planned on harming or killing the victim when he visited her the evening of November 24th, 2016. He suffered a case of temporary insanity. In a fit of rage he picked up the kitchen knife and attacked the victim, but only realized after he killed the victim exactly what he had done.

  He’d probably get twenty-five to thirty years in prison, but at least he’d be eligible for parole for good behavior after fifteen years.

  That was the best chance Mark Ashton had at defense. Unfortunately, Vincent’s
client refused to accept his lawyer’s suggestion and continued to claim his innocence, no matter how incriminating the witness’s testimony and the evidence against him were.

  One of Jonathan’s past cases that resembled the one they were working on now was the Elizabeth and Sam Firth murder case. His client had been Robert Firth, the father and ex-husband of the victims. He had been seen by his seven-year-old daughter towering over the body of his ex-wife holding the bloody weapon. Just like in this case, all the evidence pointed to his guilt. But contrary to this case, Jonathan had believed in Robert Firth’s innocence. Even after he was convicted and sentenced to life in prison, Jonathan continued to believe his client hadn’t done it.

  After spending twenty-three years in prison and two overturned appeals later, Robert Firth still proclaimed he was innocent.

  After so many years lapsed since he’d last represented his client, Jonathan had been surprized when Robert Firth called him from the prison hospital last week asking him for a favor.

  Jonathan had gone to see Firth at the long-term medical facility where he was being treated for stage 4 lung cancer.

  He was recovering from his latest chemo therapy session when Jonathan went to visit him. In his exhausted state, Robert Firth spoke in chopped sentences. Each word had a second’s pause after it. He’d thanked Jonathan for coming to see him. He said he had called him because he needed Jonathan to do something he couldn’t do from his hospital bed and that was to get in contact with his son, Eric.

  He’d recently found out that his son was an FBI agent through a news article he’d read. Eric had the tools and data necessary to re-investigate the case and prove Robert was innocent. Eric and Jessica needed to know their father was innocent, that he wasn’t the monster the police, the media, the prosecutor and their grandmother had made him out to be.

  Robert Firth couldn’t die before his children and the world knew he never killed Elizabeth or Sam Firth.

  Jonathan didn’t have the heart to tell Robert Firth that although his son was an FBI agent, he had no access or jurisdiction in police department cases and thus wouldn’t have the tools or the data he’d need to prove his father’s innocence. Only a miracle could do that.