“So you’re telling me, Mr. Ridley,” Damian leaned onto the table, looking the haggard and emotionally worn-down looking man straight in the eyes, “that in ten years of marriage, you never once felt the least amount of jealousy or even the slightest bit of insecurity?”
“I never said I didn’t—”
“Because I gotta tell you,” Damian sat back crossing his arms, “I’ve seen pictures, and with all due respect, she was a very attractive woman. I’m certain she turned heads and—”
“Look,” Mr. Ridley laid his hand on the table loudly. “I know my wife was attractive. I know men looked at her a lot, and hell, yeah, it bothered me sometimes, but I never suspected she might be cheating.”
“Never?” Damian lifted an eyebrow as he opened up a separate file. “Tell me about the night the cops were called out to your home last winter.”
Just like that, Mr. Ridley’s hand, the one he had so firmly dropped on the table just moments ago, began to tap that same table. Then he picked it up and ran it through his hair. “I can read you the statements taken from your wife that night,” Damian said, flipping through the file, “but I’d prefer you just tell me yourself in your own words.”
“I’d been drinking,” Ridley admitted sitting back in his own chair. “Twice that week she’d acted strange about a few texts she got late in the evening. Each time she had some lame excuse for why a coworker or her cousin had a question so late at night. I’d noticed after the first two times she started turning off her phone after nine. I didn’t question it, but that night I turned her phone on without telling her, and sure enough she got one just after eleven. When I asked her about it, and why she’d turned the phone off in the first place, she couldn’t even respond, so I tried taking the phone from her. When she refused to let me see it, we started arguing.” He shrugged. “Turned out it was her cousin. She was the one having marital problems and was texting my wife after her husband went to bed.”
“All right, Ridley,” Damian said trying to push aside his incredible annoyance that it was nearly midnight now and there was no way he was going to get to spend any time with Bethany tonight. “Let’s just cut the bullshit already. Your wife’s body was found naked in a bed in a hotel with another man. The very man you had an altercation with just a few months after this domestic dispute, where you blew up at your wife because she got a goddamned text late in the evening. You still gonna sit there and tell me you had no idea she was screwing around? That you didn’t know this guy was the one texting her—”
“I suspected, okay!” Ridley sat up suddenly.
Damian sat up, too. “Then why the fuck are you wasting my time? I asked you this hours ago!”
“I loved my wife!” Ridley pounded his fist on the table. “Just because I thought maybe something was going on doesn’t mean I’d kill her.”
“Then why the hell have you denied it all this time?” Frustrated, Damian pounded his own fist on the table as well. “Two interrogations before this one and for hours tonight you’ve been saying you had no idea she was having an affair when all the while you knew she was?”
“I said I suspected,” Ridley repeated, his teeth clenched now. “I stopped trying to get to the bottom of it, because I didn’t wanna fucking know, okay? We had arguments sometimes, and she said I just didn’t get her. Said there was a disconnect. I thought maybe it was just a texting or phone thing. She might just be having some kind of emotional affair with someone. Nothing physical, and I figured I could live with that,” he continued, with conviction and even more loudly. “As long as she wasn’t talking about leaving me or divorce I thought I could deal with her venting to some other guy about us.”
“So why’d you lie?” Damian asked with just as much conviction. “Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning instead of acting like you had no clue?”
“Because I didn’t!” Ridley stood up suddenly, his chair falling back. Damian shot up just as quickly, but he held up a hand to the mirrors in the room, letting his counterparts watching and taping the whole thing know he didn’t want them rushing in just yet. “I told my lawyer I suspected, and he thought that was enough for you guys to nail this on me if you couldn’t find the real killer. So they advised me to not even mention my suspicions.” He glared at Damian, undeniable pain in his tear-filled eyes. “I loved my wife so much I was willing to ignore my suspicions if it meant we’d stay together, no matter how much it hurt.” He plopped back down suddenly in his chair, dropping his head into his hands, and began to sob. “But I would never hurt her.”
Damian stood there staring at this broken man. For the first time in all these hours, he knew he’d been sitting in front of a man who had very tragically lost his wife just a week ago; his heart ached for him. Glancing back up at the mirrors, he shook his head. Their murderer was still out there. They weren’t any closer to finding him yet. Ridley hadn’t murdered his wife. Of this he was certain.
Chapter 14
I missed you, baby. I’m just now getting home. I didn’t want to call and wake you but I wanted to tell you I can hardly wait to see you tonight.
Bethany stared at the text once again. He’d called her just after six last night to tell her he was going to have to work late and had to cancel. This text was sent just a few minutes shy of one in the morning. Really? He’d worked that late on a Saturday night? Ever since she’d closed her door behind her Friday night, when she had to let that man and the enormous erection she’d felt through his pants walk away, she’d wondered if she’d made a mistake. Would he really drive home for the third time that week instead of somewhere he could satisfy his needs? A man like Damian would certainly have go-to girls who’d be more than willing to help him out with that. She was his girlfriend now. She should be the one not only helping with but also enjoying his needs.
The entire night she’d hardly slept, thinking of how incredibly aroused he’d been, and though she had also been left breathless, she knew it was much worse for men. She’d let that incredible man leave her, hot, bothered, and unsatisfied once again, when there were tons of women out there, like Olivia, the seafood whore, who’d be more than willing to accommodate him.
Her life had always been about timing, and once again this was proving to be the case. Her cut-short conversation with her sister, Stella, Friday night had been another reason for her sleepless night. Since she’d told her she would explain about Damian the next day, Stella had texted her just after midnight to say it was tomorrow already, but Bethany had informed her she needed to sleep. Truthfully, she needed more time to come up with a better explanation for why her seeing Damian was not as bad an idea as her sister seemed to think.
As much as she’d like to say that the reason for her holding back with Damian was what he was probably thinking—her morals, and that she simply wasn’t the kind of girl who would jump in bed with a guy this soon—it was and it wasn’t. Normally, and with any other guy, that would certainly be the case. She’d wait until she was sure about taking things to that next level, because it was a big deal to her, but as absurd as it sounded, and she knew she’d never get Stella to understand, with Damian she was already certain. There was something so inexplicable about everything she felt for him from day one. All she knew was that she was absolutely convinced Damian was the real deal. She felt it in every one of his kisses. Even if she couldn’t explain it—didn’t fully understand it. She just knew she didn’t have to worry that he’d disappear on her after going there. But under the circumstances, she knew none of that would matter to Stella.
After her Zumba class yesterday morning she’d dreaded calling her sister, and then when she did she got the best news ever. Stella had gotten word that things were definitely moving forward as planned without any snags. Her sister didn’t even care anymore that she was seeing someone. All she wanted to know now was why and how their plans had been changed and how soon they’d all get to be together again.
Bethany had spent the rest of the day running around collecting mo
re faxes and sending some of her own. She’d been over the moon and immediately started planning her surprise for Damian that night. Then she got his call canceling their plans.
Now, sitting here staring at Damian’s 1:00 a.m. text, she wondered if going any further Friday night would have even mattered. She was already very openly his girl. Anyone who’d witnessed their behavior in public would certainly come to their own conclusions about what was going on behind closed doors. The unease that crept up her spine now, wondering if this had been about timing, too, turned her stomach. Maybe she’d screwed this up.
Bethany shook her head, pushing aside thoughts that perhaps he’d decided at the last minute to spend a more fulfilling evening with someone else, and he’d done so until almost one in the morning. Rushing off the bus, she hurried home, reminding herself this whole exclusivity thing was his idea to begin with, and he’d been incredibly sweet when he assured her he was willing to wait as long as she needed him to. He really did sound disappointed about having to cancel—almost angry about it even.
Enough. She wouldn’t give it another thought. Damian was by far the most genuine person she’d ever met. And she knew firsthand all about being lied to and deceived. She had no reason to believe that Damian’s text and his phone call yesterday evening were anything but sincere. The surprise she had for him yesterday was half squashed, since part of it could only happen Friday or Saturday night. The other half, however, could happen whenever. And today’s plans were perfect for it. He told her he wanted to show off his barbecuing skills. They’d be alone at his place, and she couldn’t think of a better place for it.
He’d be there to pick her up soon. Determined not to ruin today by giving in to her insecurity about where he might’ve been and with whom until one o’clock on a Saturday night, she decided he deserved the benefit of the doubt. If he said he had to work late, then she had no reason to doubt him. Besides, she had other things to worry about now. Real things, not just something her insecure imagination invented. Her sister had left a message earlier saying there was a problem. She’d already tried calling her back twice, and it’d gone to voicemail. She texted her also to tell her she was making her nervous and to call her back the second she had a chance.
Rushing into her apartment, she tried again, and once again the call went to voicemail. Surprised and beginning to really worry that Stella wasn’t answering or calling back, she jumped into the shower. Once out, she tried not to freak out because there was still no call or text from her.
She tried to take her mind off it, because it was probably just a fluke. Stella had likely gone somewhere and forgotten her extra phone at home as she’d done in the past and would call her as soon as she got back. Instead of freaking out, Bethany continued to get ready, concentrating on putting her hair up in a loose French braid. She always wore her hair like this for her Zumba classes. When Damian had showed up at her Wednesday class, even though her hair was a sweaty mess, he commented on how adorable she looked with her hair up that way. Just thinking about how he’d looked at her when he said it, in that same way he so often did, as if he was in awe of her, made her feel so special it had her smiling already. Figuring today they’d be spending a casual day barbecuing and knowing how hot it was supposed to get, it was as good a time as any to look adorable for him again.
Since she finished getting ready ahead of time, Bethany went and stood in front of the fan so she wouldn’t be a sticky mess by the time Damian got there. Her phone rang, and she grabbed it, rushing back to stand in front of the fan again. It was her sister. With everything being a done deal, she couldn’t imagine what kind of problem there could be. She held her breath as she answered the call and prayed it wasn’t too bad.
“Stella.”
“Bethany, I’m sorry I couldn’t answer or even respond; Max was here.”
Nearly gasping, Bethany brought her hand to her mouth. “He went to the house? Why? What did he want?”
“I told you each time I went to make the exchange, I’ve gotten the runaround. And he’s never there,” her sister huffed, sounding very irritated. “The bitch assistant of his told me this morning that Max had instructed her to tell me to just leave the money, and he’d deliver the goods himself.”
“You didn’t, did you?”
“Of course not. Am I really supposed to believe anything that bastard says?”
Bethany let out a sigh of relief, thanking God that although she was very young, her sister was eons beyond her age in wisdom. Stella told her about how she’d refused, and the woman’s saying Max would be very disappointed. “So what did he want?”
“He says he wants to deliver it to you himself.”
“No!”
“That’s what I told him. But he says he deserves at least that much, since he’s been so patient.”
Clenching the phone, Bethany paced her small kitchen. “I don’t care what he says, Stella. Whatever you do, do not tell him where I am.”
“You know I wouldn’t,” Stella assured her, lowering her voice, but there was no masking the familiar, growing alarm in her sister’s voice that Bethany knew could very quickly turn into so much more. “Here’s the thing. He said we were naïve to think he couldn’t find you if he really wanted to. Claims all this time he’s been biding his time, but he’d hoped that we would give him this one thing after everything he did for you—for us. He’s acting like there was never anything in it for him. Like he didn’t have his own ulterior motives from the very beginning!”
Feeling the perspiration begin to trickle down her back, Bethany went and stood in front of the fan again and attempted to sound as calm as possible. “Did he say why?”
“Yes! He says he wants to talk to you. That he wants the opportunity to make amends. And that he has a proposition he’s certain you’ll be pleased with.”
“I don’t buy it.” Bethany chewed her bottom lip.
“Neither do I!” Her sister was sounding more and more panicked by the minute. Bethany needed to calm her before she had one of her anxiety attacks.
“Okay, what if you give him my number?”
“What? No!”
“Hear me out, okay?” Bethany said quickly. “That’s why I got us both prepaid phones, Stella. I didn’t have to register them under my name or give an address. I made sure they don’t have GPS. As far as I know, they’re not traceable. He can talk to me and tell me what he wants to say.” She rolled her eyes. “Make amends, and I’ll pretend to consider whatever crazy proposition he has, then we’ll be done with it.”
“You really think it’s gonna be that easy? He’s just making excuses, Bethany!”
“Listen to me!” Her sister was near the blowing point, her voice high-pitched and alarm-stricken. She spoke again very calmly, trying to sound as sure of herself as she could, pacing in her front room. The technique usually worked with Stella. She was too close to having this all behind her, and she wasn’t about to blow it by panicking now. “First of all, breathe, Stella. I need you to remain calm, okay?” She heard her sister take in a deep breath, then spoke in the calmest voice she could muster. “Tell him I want to talk to him, too.”
Stella groaned loudly, “Why?”
“Because I do,” Bethany said, in the most credible tone she could manage. She and Max did go back a ways, and she’d spent enough time with him to know just what he needed to hear, but at the moment she needed to convince her sister that she really meant this. The last thing she wanted was for Stella to think that she was getting desperate. Because she wasn’t—not yet. “I wanna thank him for everything he’s done.” Hearing Stella’s exasperated gasp, she spoke faster. “He really did do a lot to help buy me time. Even if . . .”
“You can’t be serious—”
“I am,” Bethany said, this time with even more conviction. “Give him my number and tell him I’m looking forward to his call.”
For a moment her sister was silent, then Bethany heard her take another, even deeper breath. “Okay. He said he’d be ba
ck tomorrow. I’ll give it to him and tell him then. I really hope you know what you’re doing.”
Though she still sounded uncertain, Stella’s high-pitched responses had calmed significantly. Bethany’s attitude had done just what she was hoping. “I do.” Bethany assured her. “Now I gotta go. Damian should be here soon.”
“About that,” Stella said, sounding a little nervous again. “You’re not gonna tell Max about him, are you?”
“Of course not! My social life is none of his business,” Bethany said, holding her arms up in front of the fan, deciding for now it was best if she made less of her relationship with Damian. Stella was already worried enough as it was. “Besides, I told you already. I’ve only gone out with Damian a few times. It’s not a big deal at all. He’s just someone to pass the time with.”
Hearing her sister exhale in relief, Bethany smiled, knowing she’d successfully managed to talk her off the ledge—for now. Tomorrow she really had to turn up her acting abilities and hope that all that she’d worked for, and everything she’d sacrificed, had not all been for naught.
Once off the phone, Bethany wasn’t sure how to feel. This could be just a bump in her very carefully laid plans—one last obstacle before she could get at least this part of her life back—or it could be bad. Things weren’t going as smoothly as she’d hoped. One thing after another seemed to be slowly unraveling. But she wouldn’t start thinking negatively now. She couldn’t. And she certainly wasn’t changing her mind about what she’d decided yesterday.
That suddenly reminded her of something, and she glanced down at her phone. Her stomach tightening at the sight of the text indictor flashing, she clicked on the texts from Damian.
I practically ran up the stairs . . . Okay I did. I’m right outside. =)
Even though his text made her heart start to dance a little, she glanced at the time he’d sent it to see how long he’d been waiting, but most important, to see how much of her conversation he might’ve heard. Her dancing heart puttered as she realized it’d been sent over five minutes ago. The second one was sent just a minute ago.
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