The Red Match

The Red Match

Legacy4real

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BLURB Charlotte Reeves, a wealthy middle aged painter must face the reality of raising a troublesome 8 year old son alone after the divorce from her husband, Detective Jon. All efforts from her best friend Sheila to talk her into a new relationship proves futile until one day. Charlotte is invited to her son's school after he is involved in a fight and there she meets a thrilling young man who later introduces himself to her as "Smile". They start talking and in no time a lonely Charlotte is drawn into his dark secretive world. Just then, women begin to die in the small town of Manhattan and as investigation goes deeper, Charlotte fears that she may have fallen in love with a serial killer.

Chapter 1 CHARLOTTE

"Marty!", Charlotte's voice echoed round the house. She was not expecting an answer and truly she didn't get one.

"Someday, I'll go crazy finding this child", she murmured to herself and closed the balcony door.

She had been searching for Marty, her troublesome eight year old boy for about thirty minutes and she was already exhausted. She made towards the garage to see if he would be there playing but he wasn't. She turned to go back inside but stopped at the unfamiliar sight of a brown Mustang pulling up her driveway. Charlotte watched, admiring the driver's zest as he revved the engine, a respectable distance from her momentarily poisoning the fresh morning air with soot. The door clicked open and Marty came out grinning.

"Marty", she screamed. "Where the hell have you been."

Marty frowned. "Driving a Mustang. Isn't that obvious?"

Charlotte walked towards him angrily and snatched the keys from his hands.

"And where did you get a Mustang?", she queried.

"Now that's a better question", Marty smiled and walked right past her.

"I'm talking to you, don't walk away."

"Okay", he said and stopped.

"Good. Now would you answer my question?"

"Nope", he replied and ran off.

"Maaaaartyyyyyyy!"

"Don't be such a kill joy, the boy had a lot of fun today", a familiar voice said from the passenger's seat.

"Sheila?", Charlotte frowned.

"Oui", Sheila replied coming out of the car. "Your boy's a fast learner. Far better than you at your first trial."

Charlotte sighed. Sheila had been her friend for close to twenty years and her discomfort noticing how Sheila loved hanging out with her son was simply borne from the fact that she knew very well that Sheila didn't really have the 'Midas touch'. Infact, she had like the opposite of that because she hardly ever put her hands on or into something that worked perfectly well. Even if it did, it was always short lived. Back in college, she had caught the eyes of every college girl's dream guy, billionaire businessman, Kieran West's son, Karl West and their relationship only lasted for a month. Karl who had already fallen in love with Sheila had secretly contacted Charlotte as her best friend and begged her to help him plan a surprise engagement party so he could formally propose to her. A surprised Charlotte helped organize the party but knowing how badly her friend reacted to surprises, decided to tell her a day to the D-day. It turned out to be a terrible idea as Sheila freaked out and avoided contact with Karl for a whole week. After her period of self isolation, she came back to the real world and found out that it wasn't exactly how she left it - Karl had travelled to France to oversee his father's business there and attend another business school. He had planned to take her along with him but she wouldn't pick his calls or even reply his texts. She cried her eyes out at the realization of what she had missed and went on to borrow money from everyone she knew to raise the money for a flight ticket to France. Eventually she got scammed by some guy who promised her he could get her a ticket and two months accommodation with three hundred bucks. She never heard from Karl again and Charlotte that day concluded that Sheila had to be the most unlucky person in the world.

"And you. Where did you get that Mustang?", Charlotte finally asked.

"I'm a model..."

"...that has been out of contract for two years now", Charlotte cut in. "For God's sake you shouldn't be spending like this."

"Whatever", Sheila laughed. "You got a lot from your dad. If not for him, you wouldn't be giving me financial advise, would you?"

Charlotte wanted to tell her how successful she had become as an artist...how her painting had been auctioned at the La Gazelle for $100,000...how she had refused a million dollar offer from French business mogul, Pierre Deschamps for her replica of The Mona Lisa which he could swear was better than the original, how she had over twenty different awards and a hundred other certificates from different art organizations lying dusty and abandoned in old shelves in her room but instead she smiled.

"Guess I've always been daddy's little girl", she shrugged. "Come on in."

"Thought you'd never ask", Sheila rolled her eyes. "I'm super hungry."

"With a 2 million dollar mustang", Charlotte thought leading her through the front door of the Reeves family mansion.

The Reeves family mansion was the biggest residential home in the whole of Manhattan. Secluded among trees on one of Manhattan's most exclusive streets, it had turrets, balconies, an indoor garden, two pools and a gazebo. The walls of the fence were high and had many shades of brown suggesting that they had been there for years. The interior decorations were just as good as the exterior; exotic paintings lined the polished walls of the mansion giving away the family's love for art. The silk curtains were pitch black, embroidered with gold at the top and hanging over 9 feet, allowing only occasional rays of sunlight come in when the wind blew them apart. The chandelier suspended above the white ceiling reminded Sheila of the one at the Hotel Matiàl and she was about to make a comment on it before her eyes darted round and found the Mona Lisa painting.

"I always knew you were a lover of art", she laughed her eyes fixed on the painting on the wall. "But to stoop so low to steal a painting."

Charlotte followed her eyes and smiled knowing it was her Mona Lisa painting that piqued her friend's interest.

"I didn't steal it though"

"Jon did?"

"You would not disrespect my husband in my house", Charlotte raised her voice.

"Ex-husband", Sheila corrected settling down on the couch beside her. "Get used to it girl. You're all alone now."

Charlotte frowned at her. "Sometimes I wonder if you're actually my friend."

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