After Catherine graduated from college and took over as CEO of Dixon Textiles, she’d resumed the seasonal celebrations. Sadness settled in his heart. He had to stop them from taking Catherine’s joy. Even though he had sold the initial stock, it was his father’s fault for goading him. He had been angry and Bruce had taken advantage of him. Then Tee had manipulated him with her games. In his eyes, he was just as much the victim as Catherine. Maybe even more so, because now the family would blame him for losing such an important symbol of their heritage.
“Maxwell doesn’t need our land,” he said softly. “It’s like you told me. He gets pleasure from buying companies and tearing them apart. He’s one sick bastard.”
“It doesn’t matter, Roy.”
“He has to be stopped. We can’t let him win.”
“He’s already won. You ensured that.”
“No!”
“I can’t speak to you right now. Please leave.”
He stared at his sister. She’d been mad at him countless number of times, but she’d never shut him out. “But Cath—”
“Damn, Roy, haven’t you done enough? Just leave me the hell alone!”
The following week the trial started.
“It’s time,” the bailiff said from the doorway that led to the courtroom.
The judge had been compassionate enough to allow Nefertiti and Bruce to wait in his chambers until it was time for her to testify. She couldn’t believe all of the media coverage. She’d even seen a CNN truck in the mix. To her chagrin, cameras were allowed in the courtroom. The thought of unveiling to the world made her cringe.
Bruce tapped her forehead with his knuckle. “What’s going on in there?”
“I’ll just be glad when this is over.” She slipped the sunglasses on. Today she’d chosen to wear bright white from veil to toe and her hair in a huge afro-puff pulled back by a white headband.
“I’ll be behind the prosecution.” In a show of support, Bruce wore a white suit. “Watch me. No matter what, do not turn toward Butch.”
Sticking with the blind act, she extended her walking cane. “Let’s do this.”
The bailiff led her to the stand. She was sworn in, but nothing seemed real. The courtroom wasn’t overfilled, there weren’t television cameras lining the walls, the pictures of the woman displayed on the easels were not of her bloodied, beaten and broken; five women and seven men were not deciding the fate of the savage who had attacked her… She closed her eyes, then opened them, but she was still in this unreal place.
“Miss Townes, are you all right?”
She stared at the prosecutor. Just like out of an episode of Law and Order, he wore a dark suit. She waited for the director to yell cut, but it never happened.
“Miss Townes, I know this is difficult for you.” He stepped to the side, and she saw Bruce.
“Bruce,” she said under her breath and lowered her head.
Prosecutor Givens continued speaking, but she could only understand part of what he said. She wanted them to take the pictures away. If she were the defense, no way would she have allowed the pictures to remain.
“... so we need for you to tell us what happened that night.”
“What happened that night?” Even to her ears, her voice sounded more horse than usual. Her hand automatically went to her throat. Many in attendance gasped as she traced the horizontal scar that marred her elegant neck. “He slashed my throat.” She’d fainted by the time he’d slit her throat, but her voice was a constant reminder.
“Do you know how he entered your home?”
“The police said he broke in. I had forgotten my driver’s license in my other purse. I rushed into the apartment to grab it, and he jumped out of the bedroom at me.” She could see his huge filthy hands going for her throat. “I couldn’t scream.”
As Nefertiti recounted the events of that night, she watched Bruce. The pain and rage he barely contained simmered behind his eyes. The prosecutor asked her to describe her attacker, which was easy. She’d never forget. She’d bet his attorney had had him shave, cut his hair and take several baths. Nefertiti hadn’t glanced his way. If she saw him, she knew she’d crack. She fought against the urge to stare at the monster who tried to take her life.
“Thank you, Miss Townes.” Givens faced the jury. “The prosecution rests.”
The defense attorney reminded her of a loving, cuddly soccer mom. She hadn’t objected to anything Nefertiti had said, but Givens had told her to expect that. The defense didn’t want the jury to view them as attacking Nefertiti.
“I’m sorry that you have to go through this, Miss Townes. You’ve been through so much.”
A few sympathetic sighs spread across the courtroom.
“And I don’t mean to cause you more pain, but I must ask a few questions that I know will be difficult for you to answer.”
Nefertiti focused on Bruce and the message he was sending with his eyes. “I’m here. You’re here. Let’s do this.”
Anxiety-laced snickers skittered about. After a few seconds, everyone settled and the room became quiet.
“According to reports, during the course of the assault, your attacker slashed your eyes—”
Groans and the sound of people shuffling in their seats interrupted the proceedings.
“Order,” called the judge. “Order.”
With her eyes closed tight, Nefertiti removed the sunglasses and set them in her lap. A new round of groans and gasps filled the room.
She traced the scars from above her brow to below her eye. Her eyes burned, and her tears did nothing to cool them. She unlatched the veil from her ears, and allowed it to fall.
“I’m so sorry to do this, Miss Townes, but you’ve identified my client as the monster who attacked you. The description you gave matches him, but it also matches countless numbers of others.” She paused. “Are you a hundred percent sure that my client is the man who attacked you?”
“Yes.” Nefertiti opened her eyes. “I am a hundred percent sure that,” she leaned to the left and pointed around the attorney at Butch, “he is the monster who tried to murder me.”
“That bitch can see!” Butch leapt to his feet.
“She can see!” Dennis fiddled with his earpiece, then yanked a few dress shirts out of his closet. “Did you hear me, Jay? Nefertiti has her sight.” He couldn’t believe what a fool he’d made of himself the other day when he’d seen her at Maxwell Manor. He tossed the shirts at the suitcase on his bed and returned to the closet. “Butch is going to talk, man. Pretty soon the cops will be after you also.”
“What’s Marco up to?”
“I’m supposed to be finding you, so he’s backed off for now.” He grabbed slacks and a few pairs of shoes. “The other week Redman gave me twenty grand, and I ran it up to eighty at the tables. I’m hot, man.”
“Don’t you dare blow it!”
“I won’t. I won’t.” He dropped the slacks on the bed and shoes on the floor. “I’ll only take ten grand with me. I should be able to run it up again.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m hot. I’m serious. I’m really hot.”
“You lose that money, you’ll be really dead. Do not blow it, Dennis. You know how you get. We need that money to leave the country.”
“Like I said, I’m only taking ten grand with me. After tonight, I’m getting out of town. It won’t take long for Butch to talk to the cops and tell them about you. The more the cops get to asking questions, the more antsy Marco will get about my delay in finding you.”
“I think you should just come on down now. We can head on to Mexico. I’ve made twenty grand since I’ve been here. With your eighty, we’ll be drinking margaritas for years to come.”
“Don’t worry. I’m out of here tonight.”
Freshly showered and ready to crash, Bruce and Nefertiti fell onto Bruce’s bed. They’d returned to Maxwell Manor, and their folks would arrive in town tomorrow. They were grateful for the time to unwind beforehand. Nefertiti’s father was already talking a
bout a barbeque. They’d missed celebrating Labor Day, and he wanted to enjoy what was left of the warm weather
Bruce cupped Nefertiti into his body. “You did good today.”
“I wish I could stay here forever.” She soaked in the love and security of his embrace.
“You know, I was terrified about going to court, but I needed it. I had to have my chance to show Butch that I’d survived. I had to fight back.” It was dark and quiet, but the peace she felt came from within. She hadn’t felt this settled since the attack.
“I know, water ninja.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “You did good.”
His breathing became heavy with sleep, but her mind raced from her father to Butch to Dennis to their wedding to Virginia…
“Have you heard anything new from Catherine or Roy? Is she still planning on resigning?”
“I think I’ve talked her into staying,” came his groggy reply. “Once we moved past her emotions, she admitted that this was the only way to save her family business. No, she won’t be across the field from the mill anymore, but she’ll still be the CEO, and I’m giving her the Dixon home and the twelve surrounding acres as a token of my appreciation.”
“You own everything except her thirty percent now, right?”
“Yes.” He nibbled on the rim of her ear and knocked thoughts of work out of her mind. “We own seventy percent of Dixon Textiles.”
“Umm, you’d better stop that before you get me started again.”
“If you’re going to keep me awake, we might as well use the time constructively.”
She tried to suppress a giggle. “You are too much.” She sighed. Though she’d reconciled with her father and her ordeal with Butch was over, she knew the fight wasn’t over yet. “The calm before the storm. Or maybe this is the eye of the storm. We still have to go through the other side.”
“I’ll protect you with everything I have, baby. You know that, don’t you?”
She rolled over and faced him. The minimal moonlight didn’t hide the unease in his eyes. “I know.”
“I won’t rest easy until Dennis and Jay are caught. I told Givens everything I know, which is circumstantial where Dennis is concerned and hearsay where Jay is concerned.”
“Has Marco given you any news about them?”
“He says Dennis has been spending his time gambling.”
“Maybe he and this Jay aren’t connected.”
“No, they’re connected. Givens had the nerve to give me grief about my ‘relationship’ with Marco.”
“So they’ve been watching you?”
“Actually, they watch Marco. I guess they don’t like what our ‘relationship’ could mean. When I told him Dennis owes money, I didn’t name Marco. So they probably think I’m covering for him.” He shook her. “Enough of this. When are you going to marry me? We have baby ninjas to make.”
“As soon as Mama and Auntie Vic finish planning it.”
“Hold up. You’ve been fantasizing about marrying me,” he boasted, “since we were young, and now you’ve turned the planning over to our parents. What happened?”
“I was joking and they didn’t get it. They just don’t like my ideas, so they’re coming up with a few of their own to present to me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
By the end of the week, the grounds of Maxwell Manor looked as if a family reunion were being held there. The overwhelming heat of August was a distant memory, yet the milder temperatures of mid-September didn’t stop folks from enjoying the pool.
Nathan had invited everyone from actual family to family of security to his baby’s engagement party/barbeque. Even Catherine and Roy showed up, though they barely spoke a word to each other. Catherine let herself go and had a good time, while Roy sulked about. After a while, he disappeared in the direction of the cabins on the opposite side of the creek.
Bruce approached the large barbeque pit that dominated the southeast corner of the patio. Nefertiti had wanted a costume ball, but Nathan talked her out of it.
“I’m heading in, Uncle Nathan.”
Bruce didn’t like to be around people, and with at least a hundred people running around, he needed a break. He’d already been victorious in the men versus women volleyball game, was beat down by the teens in basketball, and had even socialized with a few of his relatives he hadn’t seen in years. Nefertiti was playing tennis with Tiffany, and his aunts Victoria and May were off plotting the wedding of the century.
Nathan wiped his hands on his “Real Men Cook” apron, then took a bandana out of his back pocket and swiped the sweat off his brow. “Come on over here a minute.” He sat in one of the three lawn chairs close to pit. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“It’s been a long day, Uncle Nathan. I want to take some time to unwind before we eat.”
“This won’t take long. Come on now.”
“How do you do it?” The smell of ribs, hotlinks and burgers accompanied Bruce as he made himself comfortable in one of the lawn chairs. “If one more kid asks me to throw him into the pool, I think I’ll throw him to the dogs.”
Nathan chuckled. “You know you like it.”
“Maybe a little.” He watched the children bombard each other with water balloons.
Nefertiti exited the tennis court. The bright white of her tennis shorts and top paled in comparison to her smile. She waved and blew Bruce a kiss. Embarrassed, he shook his head and returned his attention to Nathan. “I’m ready to have children.”
“We’re so much alike… You and me… So much alike…”
“I think that’s a good thing.”
“Too much alike. I didn’t speak to my mother for years after May and I got married.” He glanced over at his mother who was sitting in a rocker under a shade tree. “All the wasted years over stupidity. Learn from my mistakes.”
“I speak to Auntie Vic daily.”
“You know who I mean, boy.” Nathan kicked Bruce’s seat. “Victoria told me what happened between you and Alexis. No doubt about it, she was wrong.”
Bruce could hear the “but” that was coming.
“But you’re overreacting.”
“It wasn’t this last incident, but a lifetime accumulation of taking her shit.” He watched Nefertiti enter the oriental garden with her mother and Victoria. When they’d first come down, Nefertiti had worn her veil, but as she became more comfortable, she tossed it.
“I know your case is more extreme, but Victoria isn’t ready to give up on Alexis.”
“I never said she couldn’t have a relationship with Alexis.”
“You know how Victoria is. If Alexis is dead to you, then she’s dead to Victoria. I’m not saying you have to nominate Alexis for ‘Mother of the Year.’ You don’t even have to associate with her, but don’t force Victoria to give up hope.”
“Fine. I’ll inform security to allow Alexis on the property.”
“Good, because she’ll be here any minute.”
“Why would you invite her when you know I’m through with her?”
“This isn’t about you. It’s about Victoria. I think you’re right to distance yourself from your mom, but let Victoria come to her own conclusion about what to do with her sister.”
“Excuse me,” Silas interrupted.
Nathan and Bruce turned in their seats and saw the middle-aged head of security. Instead of his usual dark blue slacks and button-up shirt, Silas wore jean overalls and a black T-shirt.
“What’s up?” Bruce asked.
“Joel says there are two detectives at the front gate here to see you. He wanted to tell them to come back on Monday, but I thought they might have news about that Dennis fella.”
“Did he ask them what they wanted?”
Silas nodded. “They wouldn’t tell him anything. So I figured I’d see what you wanted to do.”
“I’ll meet them in the study in about fifteen. And tell the guards at the gate that Alexis is allowed on the grounds again.”
Nefertiti ru
shed into the study, excited to hear what the detectives had to say. Starsky and Hutch. Nah. She nodded a hello to detectives Shorewood and Clemmons who were seated on the sofa. Oh, I’ve got it. Law and Order. The one with Lenny and Mike!
“Take the chair, baby.” Bruce placed his hand on Nefertiti’s lower back and guided her toward the tapestry armchair near the sofa.
Nefertiti could tell the detectives were trying not to stare at her. They stood as introductions were made, then returned to their seats. She hoped Bruce wouldn’t swing into his overprotective mode and jump on their cases before they had enough time to update them on Dennis and Jay. At least that’s what she hoped they were there for.
Bruce stood behind the chair and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Is there a problem, Detective Clemmons?” Bruce asked the younger of the men.
Clemmons shifted uncomfortably in his seat and smoothed his hands on the legs of his cheap charcoal suit. “No, no. I’m fine.”
“Then stop staring at my fiancée.”
Clemmons cleared his throat. “I apologize.” He lifted his hands slightly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”
The doorbell sounded, and everyone looked toward the doorway. Nefertiti and Bruce were positioned so they could barely see the entry. One of the temporary security guards rushed from his post to answer the door.
“Alexis Maxwell here to see Bruce Maxwell.”
Beauty and the Beast Page 19