Lust & Loyalty

by Shelly Ellis

  Now that Renee was taken care of, it was time to go down the list of old scores he needed to settle. And he knew exactly who was next in line.

  Dante dialed the number on the business card and listened to the phone ring on the other end. The person finally picked up after the fourth ring.

  “Detective Morris speaking,” a gruff voice answered.

  “Hello, Detective Morris? This is Dante Turner.”

  “Ah, yeah, uh . . . hello, Mr. Turner,” the detective said, sounding distracted. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t updated you on the investigation. We’ve been trying to follow up on that lead you gave me about—”

  “Yes, I know. You haven’t been able to find her. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I had time to think about it . . . to think about that night in more detail, like you said, and my memory is a lot better. I realize now that I had it all wrong. I was mistaken.”

  The detective paused. “You were mistaken? What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I can remember what really happened, Detective,” Dante said, falling back into his recliner. “I can tell you who really shot me.”

  “Well,” Detective Morris replied, “if that’s the case, Mr. Turner, I’m all ears!”

  Chapter 28

  Evan

  It was Christmas morning and the smell of pine and the sharp hint of burning embers in the front hall fireplace filled the air. A series of sounds echoed up the stairs to the east and west wing of the Murdoch Mansion: sterling silver trays and glass dishes being set down on tables for the morning buffet, the groundskeeper using the snow blower to remove the snow that had fallen only the night before from the driveway, and the clamor of feet and rising voices as the Murdochs and their loved ones headed to one of the sitting rooms to open presents around the ten-foot-tall Christmas tree.

  And another sound was added to the cacophony that hadn’t been there before: the cooing of a baby. It was the most beautiful sound Evan had ever heard.

  “I’ll head down with the rest of you guys in fifteen minutes,” Leila said over her shoulder to Evan before gazing down at their daughter, who was still nursing at Leila’s breast. “I just want to give her a chance to get her fill. She’s a greedy little one.” She laughed.

  Leila was sitting in one of armchairs in their bedroom with her feet propped up on an ottoman. The light streaming through the window played on her and Angelica, making the duo resemble a portrait done by some Dutch Golden Age painter.

  “Go ahead without us,” Leila said, shooing him away. “We’ll catch up.”

  But he lingered in the bedroom, watching them, enraptured. She felt his eyes on her and smiled.

  “Or stay if you want, Ev.”

  “I think I’ll stay,” he whispered, lowering himself back onto the bed, watching Leila and Angelica.

  They headed downstairs twenty minutes later. He held Angelica on his broad shoulder, gently patting her back as he walked until she released a rumbling burp that made them both chuckle.

  “Oh, that was a good one,” he said, lowering her from his shoulder, but still cradling her close as they walked into the sitting room.

  He was surprised at how natural it felt to hold such a tiny bundle. He had thought he would be awkward with her, not knowing where to hold her head or if he should steady her back or her bottom. But it had all fallen into place, like he was meant to do this.

  He broke his gaze from Angelica’s dark eyes, which drifted toward the Christmas tree, no longer pulled by her daddy but by all the bright lights and decorations. Evan spotted his brother Terrence on one of the sofas with his fiancée, C. J. She kissed his cheek after opening the gift box he had handed her.

  “I love it, baby,” C. J. gushed.

  Paulette and Antonio sat on another sofa. Nate was nestled in his father’s lap, wearing a miniature version of the sweater and slacks his father was wearing. Paulette opened one of the boxes and pulled out a baby toy with bright colors and noises that had Nate absolutely riveted.

  Meanwhile, Isabel looked like she was in the throes of manic frenzy as she ripped wrapping paper off one of the large boxes beneath the tree. Her grandmother sat off to the side, laughing as she stared at the eight-year-old.

  “It’s a wand just like Hermione’s!” Isabel screeched, pulling the replica out of its velvet-lined box. “Oh, my God! Thanks, Mom!”

  Leila leaned down to kiss her daughter’s crown before sitting in one of the nearby armchairs. “You welcome, honey. I’m glad you like it.”

  Still cradling Angelica in his arms, Evan leaned down and grabbed a small box that had Leila’s name on it from beneath the tree. He turned and handed it to her.

  “This is for you,” he said softly.

  “Thank you, Ev.” Leila lowered it onto her lap and began to unwrap it. When she removed the lid and saw what was inside, she paused. Her eyes flooded with tears, and she stared up at him.

  It wasn’t yet another Tiffany bracelet he had bought her or diamond earrings or the tickets to Fiji for the honeymoon they would finally take after they were married at the start of the year. Instead, it was a simple sterling silver picture frame with a picture of them from when they were kids. It was a picture that Diane had taken but long ago forgotten and had finally unearthed, at his request.

  He and Leila were ten years old in the photo and both wearing their Queen Anne uniforms. Evan squinted behind his thick glasses and sported a high-top fade. Leila wore her braces and pigtails. Their arms were thrown around each other’s shoulders as they grinned at the camera. This was back when he called her Bugs and she called him Magoo . . . back when he knew his emotions better than his home address . . . back when it felt like nothing in the world could come between them.

  “To my best friend, my other half, my first and my last . . . I loved you even then, Evan,” he’d had inscribed on the picture frame.

  “Oh, Ev! Baby, this is so . . .” She held the frame up to her chest and choked up as a lone tear slid onto her cheek. “It’s so beautiful!”

  He leaned down and kissed her.

  “Lord, can someone get me a tissue!” she exclaimed as he pulled away. She wiped at her reddened eyes, laughing and crying at the same time.

  No more tears were shed for the rest of that morning. The family continued to open gifts and snack on the cheese and bacon biscuits and mini quiches, to drink mimosas and hot chocolate.

  Evan had just finished opening a gag gift from Terrence that made him burst into laughter when the housekeeper came running into the sitting room, holding her hand to her bosom as she gulped for air.

  “I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Mr. Murdoch!” she shouted as all eyes turned toward her and conversation came to a halt. “But they . . . they said they had a warrant!”

  “A warrant?” he echoed. “What?” He turned back toward the entranceway to find five police officers streaming into the room. Their hands were on their holsters, at the ready to pull out their weapons, like they had just entered a seedy drug den and not a Christmas celebration.

  “What the fuck . . .” Terrence murmured, dropping C. J.’s hand and shoving her behind his back.

  Leila’s eyes widened as she drew Angelica to her chest, cradling their baby protectively against her. Isabel scrambled to the foot of her mother’s chair, dropping her box and tissue paper to the floor as she went.

  “What’s happening?” Isabel shouted to her mother. “What’s happening, Mommy?”

  Leila shook her head, mute with fright.

  “Sorry to interrupt you folks during your gift opening,” Detective Morris said as he sauntered into the room, all smiles and not looking the least bit sorry, “but we’re here to make an arrest.” He then pulled out a set of handcuffs from his pocket.

  Paulette clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a shrill cry.

  Half of the room was still confused, but Terrence and Evan knew exactly what was happening. Terrence closed his eyes and turned away from his sister. Meanwhile, Evan watched as Antonio slowly rose from th
e sofa. Antonio glanced down at his wife, who was already sobbing uncontrollably. He then turned to look at Diane, who was standing nearby.

  “Please . . . take our son,” he whispered to Diane. He held out the baby to her.

  The older woman blinked, then nodded, still looking bemused. She shakily held out her arms to sweep the squirming infant against her chest.

  With his head bowed and an empty expression on his face, as though he was resigned to his fate and ready to accept his long overdue penance, Antonio took an unsteady step toward the officers.

  “No!” Paulette screamed. Tears continued to stream down her face. She lurched to her feet, reached out, and frantically grabbed her husband’s arm to yank him back. “No! No, Tony!”

  Antonio turned to look down at her and gave a small smile. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispered.

  But instead of walking toward Antonio, who already held out his wrists to be cuffed, the detective abruptly turned to Evan. His smile widened into a grin.

  “I gave you plenty of chances to come clean,” Detective Morris said. “Now all your chances are up.”

  “W-what?” Evan said, frowning in bewilderment.

  “Turn around!”

  Evan didn’t make a move, still stunned.

  “I said turn around, dammit!” Detective Morris barked. His round face went crimson with the rage and contempt he could no longer hide. “Don’t make us have to rough you up in front of all these ladies, in your own home! Turn your ass around, boy!”

  Evan shook his head. “But I—”

  He didn’t get the chance to finish. Two of the officers charged forward, grabbed Evan, and shoved him down to the sitting room rug. They pressed his face into the thick threads of wool as they twisted his arms behind his back. One officer lowered his knee between Evan’s shoulder blades. Evan was too shocked to respond, to even contemplate fighting back. He could barely see anything. He could barely breathe with the weight of two men pressed down upon his back, compressing his rib cage.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Terrence shouted. “Get the fuck off of him!”

  “Oh, God! Ev! Baby!” he heard Leila call to him. “Please stop! He didn’t do anything!”

  Evan heard Angelica’s angry wails as her mother screamed. He heard more frantic voices that were now unintelligible. He felt the cold clasp of handcuffs on his wrists. He was then roughly yanked back to his feet, gulping for air now that he could breathe again.

  Evan could now see that the sitting room, which had been full of laughter and familial love only minutes ago, was now in complete chaos. He glanced to his right and saw that Terrence was being held back by two of the other officers, tussling with them both and cursing as he did it. His brother was well on his way to getting arrested, too. C. J. was yelling at him to stop and screaming at the officers to do the same. Leila, Paulette, and Isabel were openly sobbing. The babies were howling, filling the rooms with their ear-piercing cries. Meanwhile, Antonio stood immobile, looking dazed, and Diane looked absolutely terrified.

  “Terry, stop!” Evan called hoarsely to his brother. “Just . . . just stop.” But his brother couldn’t hear him over all the noise. Evan swallowed and turned again. His eyes met the icy gray ones of Detective Morris.

  “Evan Murdoch, you are being charged with the attempted murder of Dante Turner,” he said coolly, making Evan’s stomach drop. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be assigned to you.” He inclined his head. “But that shouldn’t be a problem for a man like you, should it, Mr. Murdoch?”

  Evan didn’t respond.

  “Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

  Evan sluggishly nodded.

  “Good. Then I guess we can get the hell out of here,” the detective said, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward.

  Evan’s feet were slow to respond. He stumbled a little as he walked, still muddled. The shouts and cries around him and behind him continued even as he was led out of the sitting room, down the hall, and finally out the door to the police cruiser that awaited him in his driveway to take him to jail.

  A READING GROUP GUIDE

  LUST & LOYALTY

  Shelly Ellis

  ABOUT THIS GUIDE

  The suggested questions are included to enhance your group’s reading of Shelly Ellis’s Lust & Loyalty.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. Evan decides not to tell Terrence what he knows about Marques Whitney’s murder and what he suspects Antonio might also have done to Dante. Do you think that was the right decision?

  2. C. J. decides to try to be kind and engage in a friendship with her ex-fiancé, Shaun Clancy, despite her misgivings. Do you think that is a smart decision considering his unresolved feelings for her?

  3. Terrence is angry at C. J. for standing him up multiple times and not being as engaged in their relationship as he would like her to be. Do you think his expectations are unrealistic and selfish, or should she be with him more despite the promise she made to help her father during his campaign?

  4. Evan initially decided to keep secrets about all the things Leila’s daughter, Isabel, was doing, because he said he wanted to protect Leila and not upset her during her pregnancy. Do you believe his claim—or do you believe Leila, who thinks it is all part of Evan’s need for control?

  5. Evan lies repeatedly to the detective because he believes whatever he says will incriminate Antonio and possibly send him to jail and get him the death penalty. Would you make a similar decision or would you tell the detective the truth?

  6. Leila is hesitant to confront Charisse and engage in an all-out war because she believes everyone in Chesterton will still see Charisse as the victim and her as the villain? Would you make a similar decision or would you confront Charisse directly?

  7. C. J. finds out that Shaun Clancy is the real father of Rochelle Martin’s baby. He asks her to stand by him as he has stood by her. Considering that he had forgiven her for walking out on him, do you think she should have given him more consideration?

  8. When Evan finally apologizes to Leila for all that he’s done, she decides not to leave him and forgives him. Do you think she made the right decision?

  Craving more of the Murdochs?

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at To Love & Betray,

  coming soon from Shelly Ellis and Dafina Books

  Chapter 1

  Leila

  Leila Hawkins walked toward the gold hotel elevator doors, listening as her high heels clicked on the marble tiled floor. She trembled with each step she took.

  A bellhop pushing a luggage cart loaded with suitcases nodded and smiled at her as she passed. “Good evening, ma’am” he said.

  She turned away, not responding to bellhop’s greeting, and dug into her purse, retrieving her cell phone. She tapped the glass screen and flipped through her text messages, retrieving the one that contained the hotel room number and the appointed time to meet.

  “9:30 p.m. sharp, floor 19, room 1926,” the text read. “And don’t even THINK about standing me up!”

  Every time she saw those words, she gritted her teeth in frustration. Even now, she wanted to head back across the hotel lobby, out the revolving doors, and give up on this whole idea. But instead, she dropped her phone back into her purse and pressed the up elevator button. She waited patiently for the doors to open. When they did, she stepped inside the compartment and pulled out the room key that a courier had delivered to Murdoch Mansion earlier that day. She inserted the key into the wall slot and pressed number nineteen. She leaned her head back against the glass wall and watched the digital screen above her as the elevator ascended floors.

  Her phone began to ring, and Leila reached inside her purse again. She saw the number on the screen, took a deep breath, and pressed the green button to answer.

  “Hi, Mama,” she said.

  “L
ee, where are you?” her mother asked, the worry apparent in the older woman’s voice. Leila could hear her whimpering infant daughter, Angelica, in the background. “You left here almost forty-five minutes ago. I thought you would be back by now!”

  “I just . . . I just went out to run a . . . another errand.”

  “An errand? At ten o’clock at night?”

  “I know what time it is, Mama,” Lee answered tersely. “I’ll be back soon—probably in another hour . . . maybe an hour and a half.” She looked up at the floor numbers again.

  Eight . . . nine . . . ten . . . eleven . . .

  “What? Lee, I don’t . . . you can’t just . . .” Her mother sputtered helplessly. “You should be at home! With all that’s going on, honey, you need to be here with your children. You have to—”

  “Please don’t tell me what I need to do, Mama! I’m doing what I have to do.”

  “And what is that, Lee? You won’t even tell me where you are!”

  Fourteen . . . fifteen . . . sixteen . . .

  “I have to go,” Leila whispered before abruptly hanging up. She dropped the phone back into her purse and closed her eyes.

  I’m doing what I have to do, she told herself again. And Evan would do the same for her if he’d been in the same situation.

  Her fiancé, Evan, had been in jail for almost a month now. His lawyer had finally negotiated his release on a one-million-dollar bond after appealing to the circuit court when a lower court judge had refused to grant Evan bail because the prosecutors had claimed that he was a flight risk.

  “Mr. Murdoch is a very wealthy man, your honor. He could hop on a jet and leave the country for Switzerland or Mozambique for all we know!” the commonwealth’s attorney had argued during Evan’s bail hearing. “We might never find him!”