“How do you know about what I was willing to do?”
“The responsibility is mine.”
There was a tone of finality in his speech that I recognized, the authority that left little room for argument. He was Nox, or Nox was he. If it weren’t for the thicker accent, I could close my eyes and believe that Oren Demetri was his son.
In that second, I wanted to do what Nox continually asked of me. I wanted to trust. This time it wasn’t Nox I was trusting. It was Oren. It felt wrong, but at the same time it felt right.
Was this what it was like to have someone who shielded me from life’s tragedies and responsibilities? Was this what it was like to have a father? Though I knew he and Nox had their difficulties, I wanted to believe that Oren was sincere.
We’d both been right about the night. It’d been incredibly long, and my emotions were on overdrive. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Oren’s waist. “Thank you.”
His reaction was delayed, so much so that for a moment I regretted my show of emotion. And then, his arms surrounded my shoulders as my cheek fell against his chest. I didn’t understand the connection. I didn’t try, but for a moment, I was a little girl finding comfort and security in the arms of a man who somehow understood my difficulties, who shared my fears.
When I stepped back my cheeks were again wet. “You do care about her? It’s not just about Nox and I, is it?”
“I do.” He reached for the handle. “Shall we?”
BLOCKED NUMBER: “I FOLLOWED HER.”
Blocked Number: “BRING HER BACK. I DON’T CARE HOW YOU DO IT.”
Blocked Number: “SIR, IT’S NOT LIKE BEFORE. THE SECURITY HERE IS TIGHT.”
Blocked Number: “THEN WAIT IT OUT. EVENTUALLY SHE’LL LEAVE. WHO ELSE IS THERE?”
Blocked Number: “THE WOMAN AND DRIVER LEFT. SHE AND HER FRIEND STAYED. I HAVE NO WAY OF KNOWING WHO ELSE IS INSIDE.”
Blocked Number: “DID YOU RECOGNIZE HER FRIEND?”
Blocked Number: “YES, SIR, THE SAME ONE FROM… FROM BEFORE.”
Blocked Number: “DEAL WITH THEM BOTH.”
Blocked Number: “I WON’T LET YOU DOWN, SIR.”
Blocked Number: “NOT AGAIN YOU WON’T.”
BEYOND THE LARGE windows of the office, blackness prevailed, thick and chilled. It seeped through the cooled air, rattling the branches of the nearby trees and stirring the waters of the sound. I should have been concerned about the men outside, protecting the estate, but I wasn’t. It was their job.
The thick windows held out the wind, but just beyond the windows I could see its effects in the whipping vines on the veranda beside the house. Winter was coming and the chill was all around me. It had been a long time since I’d wintered in New York.
I pictured my apartment in Knightsbridge. It wasn’t warmer in London. If anything, it was cooler. Nevertheless, even during my self-imposed isolation, Knightsbridge was anything but. There was no dark lawn or daunting perimeter. The entire hamlet bustled day and night. It was filled with culture, fashion houses, and famous restaurants. Perhaps subconsciously I’d purchased the flat with Adelaide in mind. Now that she was here, upstairs, my desires were no longer subliminal. I wanted to take her there.
I prayed that she’d walk the sidewalks, shop in Harrods and Jimmy Choo, and dine with me at any of the clubs and bars. With her appreciation of art, she could browse the museums or redecorate the flat with priceless antiques.
My dreams were at hand—literally at my fingertips—and yet a million miles away.
The concerns I’d explained to Alexandria were real. Eva insisted that I listen, that I comprehend. At first I was unwilling.
Adelaide would wake. I knew it. Until…
I didn’t.
And now the damn newscast.
The body.
The arrest.
This conversation shouldn’t occur over the phone, but I refused to leave Adelaide, and I had to know. I had to confirm my suspicions. It was probably the reason she didn’t come into the house.
“I could tell you to come here. To talk to me in person,” I said when she picked up.
“Or you could trust me that no one will hear this conversation. I provided the house with the burner phone for a reason. I was expecting your call.”
I squeezed the phone tighter. “Your name?”
“My name?”
“Standard insurance.” If she said her name, we weren’t being recorded. Her years as an operative would have taught her that. I shouldn’t have to explain it any more.
“Deloris Witt.”
I exhaled. “Now,” I said, “tell me why.”
“You’re not asking first if I know who did it?”
“I wouldn’t be risking this call if I doubted that answer. I know. You just confirmed it. Now tell me why and if my son authorized it.”
“I think you know why.”
“My son?”
“No. He didn’t authorize it, but he did mention he wanted it. Not her death,” Deloris clarified. “He wanted the consequences that would accompany it. He never knew she was being kept safe. He’ll never know what happened.”
I fought to respond. She was his employee. It wasn’t her place to go rogue. However, at the same time, I was thankful he wasn’t involved. “Yet you’re willingly telling me?”
“You aren’t him. He isn’t you.”
That had always been my dream.
If secrets were stars I could light a galaxy. If they were stars they wouldn’t be affected by gravity, not as we know it. Instead, they’re weights, each one heavier than the last, each one pulling me down until I fought to breathe, to live. Each one replacing the starry sky with drowning regret.
Could I continue to keep them to myself?
All of my dreams were so close. And yet each weight pulled me further and further away.
I closed my eyes. Murder had been in my past. I’d given it all up, moved beyond, and now I was there again. “Details?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“She was innocent.” That simple statement was what ate at me. Then again, I’d seen other innocents die. They’d died for power, for revenge, and for love.
“Her death took precedence over her existence,” Deloris said matter-of-factly. “Sometimes the saying is true: the end justifies the means. She was available. Besides, her fate was sealed when she reneged on her obligation to Infidelity and attempted to blackmail Spencer.”
“Blackmail?” I tried to understand. “Her accusations were false? He didn’t harm her?”
“He did, but from what I learned from her, he’d done it before. She realized she’d messed up with Infidelity. She knew his inclinations and intended to profit from his depravity.”
I shook my head. “Not as innocent as I previously thought.”
“Her plan would have worked if she hadn’t involved the authorities. Fitzgerald would have paid her to go away. I’m most certain the payout would have been short-lived. Her fate would have ultimately been the same.”
“So in saving her, you prolonged her reprieve?”
“That’s a nice way to look at it.”
“Did you lie?”
“No, sir.”
“You don’t need any more qualifiers? You can answer unequivocally to never lying?”
“Can you?”
“I didn’t ask me. I asked you.”
“I used a qualifier,” Deloris admitted. “I’ve never lied to your son or you.”
“Only a few days ago, you told me to my face that she was safe.”
“She was and things changed. Spencer was too close to winning. Mr. Fitzgerald was determined to make their marriage legal. Mrs. Fitzgerald’s health was getting worse. Mr. Fitzgerald was desperate. If his wife died, the entire will, including the codicil could have come out. If Alex and Edward were married, he could keep the codicil hidden and go on with Article XII.”
“And you knew this how?”
“I listen. I watch. It’s what I do. Those
weren’t my primary concerns. My primary concerns were Alex and Lennox. I was with him when he lost Jocelyn.”
She let that statement hang in the air, reminding me that I wasn’t. “Your point?”
“I wasn’t going to do that again.
“Edward’s total disregard of Alex as nothing more than a step on his climb to American nobility was only surpassed by his brutality aimed at Melissa and then Chelsea. Do you believe that after their marriage Alex would have been exempt?”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I recalled discolored patches on Adelaide’s porcelain skin. I recalled her countless excuses—clumsiness and medications. I remembered threatening her ass of a husband and her begging for his reprieve. If Edward Spencer were anything like his father—yes, Adelaide had shared that secret with me too—then I knew that Alexandria wouldn’t have been exempt.
She went on. “How would that have affected Lennox… and Mrs. Fitzgerald?”
I knew how it would. It would have devastated them, just as it had me. Lennox had already lost one love in his life. I’d done my part to give him another. Would I have been able to sit back and watch her taken from him? Watch her be abused from afar? Had Deloris authorized something that I wouldn’t have, given the opportunity?
Love.
I could categorize Melissa’s death… this murder… as done for love. There were three people I loved: Angelina, Lennox, and Adelaide. Melissa’s death helped two of those people.
I couldn’t argue with her logic.
“Lennox can never know.”
“I agree.”
“Will you lie to him?”
“As I said, I’ve never lied to him, to either of you. With him, for him, I can omit some information. Will I be the only one who’s done that?”
“Mrs. Witt, tread lightly.”
“I’ll take that as your answer.”
“You should. You said the last time we spoke about Melissa that he asked you to take care of her?”
“No. He said he wanted the problem gone. She was the cause of the problem. I helped her be gone. After listening to the demeaning and demanding way Spencer spoke to Alex on a telephone call, he said he wanted Spencer to suffer. I told him I was thinking about a solution. I never gave him the entire story.”
“Two birds. One stone,” I said.
“Yes, sir,” Deloris confirmed. “We’ll never mention this?”
“One more thing. The charges, will they stick? Will my son get his wish?”
“Will he suffer?”
“That’s what I’m asking,” I said.
“I’m most certain of it.”
Why did most certain fail to pacify me? “My son will never take the fall for this.”
“That goes without saying.”
“You have a plan B?”
“I always do.”
I exhaled. She was good.
“Tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“And this conversation never happened.”
“What conversation?” she asked. “Good night.”
Efficient and deadly. It seemed that Lennox did know how to pick them.
I removed the battery on the disposable phone. The house was quiet as I slipped through the rooms and hallways until I reached the kitchen door, the one that went out onto the pool deck. A cold chill ran through me as I stepped outside onto the concrete. One slip from my fingers and the phone fell to the hard pavement. A misstep of my shoe and my heel smashed the plastic to dust.
I scooped the remains into the palm of my hand and eased back into the dark kitchen. Opening the large cabinet that housed the trash and recycling, I dumped the plastic shreds into the recyclables. Even monsters can help save the planet.
MY EYES BLINKED, staying closed longer and longer with each passing moment. The mug of warm tea teetered precariously in my grasp as I fought the impending sleep. Even the constant beep of Momma’s monitors had become a lullaby, the rhythm lulling me to a dream state.
My mind was too full to sleep and too troubled to want to be awake. I couldn’t stop thinking about Melissa Summers and Chelsea and even myself. How close had Chelsea and I come to being Bryce’s victims? When did Melissa die? Had her body been at Carmichael Hall while Chelsea had been there? If I’d gone there Saturday morning, would he have shown her to me? Would she be another example of his power as striking Chelsea had been?
My skin prickled and stomach twisted with the possibilities.
Then there was Nox. I wanted him to get back to me. I needed him. I needed to rely upon someone besides myself.
Lastly, my momma.
The room where we were had all the essentials of a hospital room but encased in luxury. I’d never before been in the master suite of this house. Once I realized the room we were in, I did my best to suppress the images Nox had described to me of finding Jocelyn. This was the room where she’d died, where he’d found her, and yet it was the room where my mother was sleeping.
I chose to use the word sleeping, doing as Oren had said and concentrating on the positive.
It was also the room where Oren stayed when he was here. His bed was still present. I found it more than a little odd that it was where he’d chosen to create her makeshift hospital room, but after what he’d told me about the flight, moving her to another room didn’t seem like the appropriate course of action.
After his story, I wasn’t sure what I’d find when he opened the door. The reality was better than my imagination. My mother appeared peaceful, her hair brushed and nightgown fresh. Her complexion had a hint of pink and her wrists weren’t tethered. The constant beeping provided comfort as the monitors confirmed her heart was beating and a small tube delivered oxygen through her nose.
On a shiny silver pole hung a bag of what I’d learned was simply saline solution. A thin tube delivered the hydration to her arm. Hanging from the bed was a clear bag to monitor her fluid output.
The nurse explained that they’d need to resume intravenous nutrition if she didn’t wake soon. In the meantime, they were working to keep her hydrated. I’d been pleased to hear that the doctor believed that most of the opioid hydrocodone and alcohol should by now be purged from her system, decreasing the likelihood of future DTs.
Liz, the nurse, confirmed that my mother did have three broken ribs. Apparently they’d been able to see with some kind of portable x-ray machine. The length to which Nox’s family had gone to help my mother utterly amazed me. The doctor or nurse had taped my momma’s sides to ease the pain. She also explained that not much could be done about broken ribs. Only time. Perhaps it was the doctor I was waiting for, or maybe it was Nox. He should be landing soon. For whatever reason, I found it difficult to leave my mother’s side despite the fact that soon the sun would rise on the other side of the draperies. During my exploration I’d discovered that, like the room I shared with Nox, this one also had a balcony overlooking the sound.
“Miss Collins, do you mind if I go to the kitchen? Everything is stable. If you need me or Dr. Rossi, push the button on the intercom.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks, Liz. I’ll stay with her.”
After the door shut, I placed my tea on a table and walked to my mother’s side. I stood silently holding my breath, watching as her chest rose and fell. Then letting out the air, I reached for her hand.
“Momma, I’m here.” My voice choked with emotion. “You’re going to get better. That’s what Liz said. She’s your nurse, yours. I don’t know how they did it, but the Demetris got all of this for you.”
I looked around the room again, taking in the spacious suite. Oren had stepped out earlier and now with Liz in the kitchen, for the first time my momma and I were alone.
“I think you’ll like it here. It’s not Montague Manor and that’s a good thing. It’s a home, a lovely home. Wait until you meet Silvia. She’s so welcoming. Things have happened here…” I thought again about Jocelyn and wondered about Nox’s mom. “Yet it feels warm. Not a temperature, but
the way it makes me feel, as if I belong.” I took a ragged breath. “I’m sorry if… I-I wish…”
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.
“Momma, please get better. Don’t think about Montague Manor. We don’t need anything from any of them ever again. Let them have it all. There’s so much to tell you. Bryce was…” I stopped, remembering Oren’s request for positivity. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing is worth what that place has taken. What Alton…” Damn, it was impossible to stay positive and tell her what had happened.
I took a deep breath. “When I finish school I’ll work. I will. I don’t want Nox to feel as if he has to, but he’s promised that he’ll help us until then.” I wiped away the tears that wouldn’t stop. “Please get better and when you do, stay with me, with us.”
I let it all out—the last two weeks. That was such a short time in the span of a life and yet in even less than that, in only ten days, so much had happened. I didn’t know if she could hear me, but I wanted to tell her. Part of me was afraid that this would be the only chance I had.
“Oren, Nox’s dad, wants us to say only good things and not upset you. I don’t want to upset you, but there are a few things I need to say.” My breath stuttered as I gulped air. “I know I haven’t been a good daughter, but you haven’t been a good mom.” My eyes closed, forcing more tears to fall. As they dripped from my chin, I imagined her living the last twenty years as I had the last ten days. My childhood hadn’t been good, but it hadn’t been the hell I faced marrying Bryce, living with his cruelty day after day. The anger I’d allowed to fester inside of me morphed to empathy. “I think I understand. I think you tried. I get that. I can see things differently than I used to. I’m sorry.”
Fidelity (Infidelity) (Volume 5) Page 9