Beatrice Dwyer

"I'm going to personally oversee your safety. You'll be living with me... well, in the guest house until it's safe."

She looked taken aback, but then a slow, easy smile spread across her lips. "I knew you couldn't resist."

"Miss"—she gave me a harsh eyebrow raise—"Bea, I don't want you to confuse my actions with anything other than what they are. You know something, and I want Emily Todd in jail. I will protect you from her, and in return, you will tell me everything you know. Are we clear?"

She saluted me. "Yes, sir, Mr. Boss, sir."

I felt twice as annoyed by her now. I shot her another disgusted look before exiting the car to a nervous-looking Jeff.

"Not right in the head?" I snapped at him.

"It's not her fault she's like that. She's been a victim since she was a kid," Jeff pleaded in her favor.

"Not my problem. She won't stop being annoying, and she's being extremely vague. Why didn't you lead with the only way she'll talk is if she stays with me?" I asked.

"Well, you wouldn't have come out if I did, and Jasper would shut it down once he saw her behavior. She literally knows everything and will only speak if she feels safe," Jeff scratched his head. "I know you don't approve of sex work, but she's literally just a means to an end. After the trial, we'll move her somewhere else."

"This better be worth the headache!" I snapped at him.

"It's a means to an end."

"I hate that. There is one other thing I need to mention. She did allude to a dirty cop. She doesn't say who, just that Emily has someone in the department. So this needs to be a top-secret deal. No other people privy to the information of where she's being kept."

"Okay, I'll allow that if we get the evidence we need. Now go see what you can get out of her and keep me informed."

I rolled my eyes and went back into the car. At the moment, she had the audacity to be staring out the window, spaced out like she wasn't in a bad situation herself.

"Bea."

She jumped a little at the intrusion as if she hadn't even heard me enter. Her mask slipped in place. "Alexander," she drawled in that weird sexy voice.

"Jeff agreed to my plan to keep you safe. All you have to do is tell me what you know and turn over any evidence you have," I said, hoping this wouldn't be another argument.

"And when I do?"

"Easy. We arrest Emily Todd, and then I take you to my house and show you the guest rooms. No one will know you're there, and she'll never be able to find you," I said confidently.

"You're just dying to get me alone, aren't you, Alexander?" She crossed her legs and licked her lips.

"What I'm dying to do is arrest Emily. I'd never touch someone like you willingly. Now are you ready to fill me in?" I gave her my no-nonsense voice, hoping she'd finally start talking.

"Well, you're no fun." She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

"I don't have to do shit and can let you die in the street if you can't be serious. It won't affect me at all."

"Fine."

Now we were getting somewhere. I took out my phone and informed her that everything she said from now on would be recorded. I turned the video on, stating the date and time.

"State your name for the record."

"Beatrice Dwyer, Alexander, but please call me Bea," she answered through gritted teeth.

"Very well then, Bea. Could you tell me what you know about the murder of Daniel Stanley?"

"Right to the point, huh." She huffed. "Daniel and I both work for Emily and Anthony Todd Jr. Emily is our pimp. She was mad about the raise in fees he demanded for us, and she killed Daniel," she stated with no emotion at all.

I was slightly taken aback and had to gather my wits for a second. A prostitution ring as well? Well, I guess drug trafficking and human trafficking normally go hand in hand. Now that I thought about it, Beatrice might've been one of the ladies on camera with Tony. I cleared my throat and pushed her further. "She killed him? That simple? How do you know that Emily is responsible?"

Bea shrugged. "I was there," she said simply.

I almost choked on that information. "There, as in witnessed the murder?" I expected a secondhand account of information, but never a firsthand witness. This girl needed protection more than I ever imagined.

She rolled her eyes. "That's what I just said, Alexander," she said in her smart-ass tone.

"Okay, Bea. I'm going to need every single detail you can remember. I know it might be hard to relive, but I need the whole scene from start to finish."

She began her tale, and I was in shock at the picture she painted. Everything she told was right on with the forensic information told to me when I was framed years ago. The scene she described matched perfectly with the murder scene, cause of death, and even the time.

I was disconcerted with her toneless retelling of the events and that she was willing to describe in detail everything she saw. I was also in awe.

"That's some tale you just told," I said in a disbelieving voice.

She reverted back to the Bea I first encountered—arms crossed, smirk in place, and smart-ass mouth. "Alexander, you asked for my story, and I gave it to you. Now if you're not going to believe me, then I have no more business here."

"Bea, I just need you to be sure. There can't be any backing down. Are you sure this is the story you can hold firm with?"

"Yes, I'm sure." She turned back to face me. "I can even go one step further if you'd like," she said.

I assumed she was back to innuendo, so I immediately went to stop her, but when I raised my hands and started to speak, she interrupted me before I could even start. "Evidence, Alexander, just more evidence."

"More evidence?" I perked up at the prospect. "What more could you possibly provide?"

She leaned forward; starting at her thighs, she slowly ran her hands down her legs. My eyes followed involuntarily. Just when I was about to put a stop to her display, she reached down her boot and pulled out a small baggie. It had a shoestring or some sort of cord inside of a ziplock bag.

She held it out for me to take, and I was confused as to why she'd be handing me a string, but I slowly raised my hand anyway with a puzzled look on my face.

"Detective, this is your evidence," she said as I took it in my hand. I looked down at this baggie and then at her questioningly. "The murder weapon."

I almost dropped it to the floor in horror. "Fuck me!"

"I have more," she said quietly.

I looked at her, stunned. "What more do you have, Bea? Tell me, please."

She sighed. "A recording. I have a video recording of the murder."

"A video?" I couldn't believe this was happening. When I started this talk, I never imagined it would bear this much fruit. Now, here I was with the murder weapon in my hand and a possible recording of the actual murder.

A knock on the door interrupted our conversation. Jeff opened the car door and came in with gloves on and an evidence baggie in his hands. I carefully placed the evidence in it and made sure he understood that this was classified information and no one was to know. He gave me a nod.

"Can you get my things from booking, Detective Flannigan?" she asked.

"Front seat," he said.

"I can get it. Are you carrying this video around with you?" I asked incredulously.

"It's on my phone, Alexander. No one even knows I have it," she stated like it was no big deal. Jeff looked at her with wide eyes, and he looked visibly annoyed by the revelation as well.

If I spoke, I might blow a gasket. Didn't this girl have any self-preservation skills? I reached for the bright pink backpack I assumed was hers on the passenger seat and dumped the contents of it onto the seat. She had thirty-seven dollars in cash, a cell phone, two changes of clothes, and a pack of gum.

She immediately went for the phone and began scrolling through it. After a few moments, a video started playing, and she faced the screen toward me. I sat and watched in shock and amazement. On the screen was a clear account of Emily strangling the life out of Daniel Stanley.

Even after the video had ended, I gaped at the screen. This girl watched this horrible scene in person and was brave enough to stealthily record the whole thing. Again, I was in awe of her audacity.

I swiped the phone from her and handed it right to Jeff for evidence.

"Come on, let's go inside," I told her. She looked stunned that I was telling her this, but she quickly shoved everything back into her bag and climbed out of the car behind me.

"Just call me if anything pops up or you need her moved," Jeff said. "I'll inform you when it becomes safe for her to leave the premises."

"Detective. Listen, thanks for doing this. I know it probably isn't standard protocol, so I really appreciate it." For the first time, Bea's face was soft and relaxed.

"You can repay me by not causing Alex a fucking headache like you did with me," Jeff said bitterly.

I shook my head to clear it, then grabbed her bag with my good hand and led Bea inside.

"You have a beautiful home," she said.

"Thank you. Come on, and I'll show you your room."

"No need. I can just share with you."

"Not going to happen. Behave yourself if you want to stay here," I snapped at her. She got quiet and followed me to her room, which I made sure to put on the other side of the house. I'm sure she wouldn't be much of a bother to Elizabeth.