by Aven Jayce
“I noticed. Thank you,” I whisper. “Soph, it was the last of the older videos that were shot by your father’s company. I know you said you didn’t want to hear about him anymore but if you want to know what happened this morning I have to mention him.” She nods for me to continue. “I had to try and identify some of the people who were with me, but it was too long ago, and I was too young to remember their names. The images are entombed in my head like a dead mouse rotting away in one of the walls of a house. It’s stuck there, you smell it, but there’s nothing you can do to get rid of it. The only thing to do is to sit and wait for the air to clear.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers in her most caring and compassionate voice.
“I haven’t thought about one guy for over a decade, I might have even blocked him out, but he’s fresh in my mind now. I apologize, Soph, but what you were doing to me this morning was what he requested in the video. It wasn’t you who turned me cold, it was him.”
I’m held in her arms and I can sense her sadness.
“After you left this morning and I gave the event some thought I realized it probably had to do with your trip to Vegas,” she says. “I’ve done that move on you so many times and I know you love it, so it seemed unusual for you to shut down so quickly. I had a feeling something must have been on your mind from the porn industry. We’ll take a break from it for a while. I have other moves.”
“I thought you’d be upset I was thinking about someone else and wasn’t focused on you.”
She smiles with her arms lovingly around my waist then swings my body back and forth. “I’m a total bitch, Cove. An immature-foul-mouthed-self-centered-slut, so much so that I still can’t believe you asked me to be your wife, but I’m not so rotten as to joke about what happened to you, or become upset because your past has a hold on you... on us. The reality is I’d be worried if you acted like it was nothing. I do believe we still need to go to therapy though. It could help.”
“I got my father to promise to go, I guess it’s time for us as well. This shit I went through as a teenager will never go away, but maybe I can learn how to deal with it in a more positive way than always reaching for a bottle to calm down and forget my problems.”
“So, you don’t remember this guy?”
“No. What I could’ve said to the detectives about him wouldn’t be very helpful, so I didn’t say anything.”
“Like what?”
“He smelled of onions.”
“Ug, I know how much you hate them.”
“Yeah, I remember the smell was on his entire body and it made me nauseous. I was wasted too, so much so that the guy was practically holding me up in the shot. It was sickening to see myself all tanked up and...” My fists tighten; I close my eyes and exhale deeply. “I’m sorry. I should have told you immediately, but I didn’t want to disappoint you. You know?”
“Shh, Babe. Don’t blame yourself. Remember, that’s the one rule we agreed on a few months ago. We can’t blame ourselves for my father’s wrongdoings. Okay?” she shakes her head and appears plagued by my words. Her finger brushes the side of my cheek then over my lips to silence me. “Don’t say another word unless you need to. I’m here to listen, and I’m sorry I was such an ass this morning. When we first met I used to drive you into these conversations, not realizing just how bad things were from your past, and I fell off track this morning, pushing you again. I’m also sorry I jumped to the conclusion that it was about me, and I shouldn’t expect you to perform every moment of the day. But that’s my usual selfish behavior, right?”
“No, you’re insecure, just like me.” I kiss her forehead and run my fingers through her damp hair. I love it when we’re in a whirlwind of emotions and wild fits, but sometimes we need these calm moments as well; and it’s usually after sex when it happens. My parents know I’m sensitive, and Sophia will always get a piece of my heart whenever I feel she needs it, but most people who I come in contact with will simply see my darker side. As Sophia says, the only time I smile is when I’m with the people I love.
“I need to know what happened this morning. Did you learn anything about the article, and what’s with the broken window, and why did you ask your father to head out during our breakfast?” she asks.
“I don’t have much information to pass along. The article seems meaningless, but I called my father down to the Scarlett to question him about it, see if he could shed some light on the subject.”
“Then the window was a lie just to talk to him?”
“I wish. The fucking thing’s gonna cost a good grand to be replaced. Someone threw a rock at it, shattered it to pieces. So, it wasn’t a lie, but it was a good excuse to get him down there.”
“And he didn’t say anything?”
“Nope.” I can tell by her questioning that she didn’t see the photos on the backside of the article, and I’m not going to bring it up unless it turns into something that may hurt her.
“So who called when we were fucking?”
“Good question. Haven’t checked.” I step inside and check my cell. “Haverty. Must be about the glass. No message though. I’ll touch base with him after I clean up.”
“Sounds good. Have you had anything to eat today?”
“Is that an offer?” I smile and turn on the water in the shower.
“I’ll have something waiting in the kitchen when you’re finished. Five minutes?”
“Or less.” I step in and lather up, getting rid of the chlorine stench on my skin. I’m fucking starving right now. Long morning, then sex. I need some fuel. Shampoo...lather...rinse...done. Brush teeth... fix hair... shave... clean clothes... aw, my wife gawks at me like I’m a fucking new man.
“You look hot.”
“Thanks, darling,” I say in a southern drawl. “Chicken sandwich?”
“With mayo and lettuce, just the way you like it.”
“You’re the best, Soph.”
“I know.”
“Ha, my egotistical wife has returned.” The buzzer for the downstairs door sounds as I take my first bite. “Must be Haverty.”
“He’s probably worried that you didn’t pick up.”
“I’m sure he knew what we were doing. He’ll assume I gave you a good spanking after the prank you pulled.”
“His idea, Cove. Not mine.”
“But you didn’t mind, right?” I press the button next to the door and ask who it is.
“Cove Everton?”
“Yes.”
“St. Louis Police Department. We’d like to speak to you. May we come in?”
“What the fuck do they want now?”
“Shh, Soph. You know it could be a number of things, and more likely than not it’s questions about your father.”
“Bullshit, they’ve never come knocking at our door about him, they always call on the phone when they want to speak with you.”
“Then it’s the window incident.”
The buzzer sounds again and I answer.
“No, you can’t come in,” I respond. “I’ll come down and talk.”
“I’m going with you,” she says.
“I know,” I reply.
“I’ll come back upstairs if it’s about my father, but anything else I want to be a part of.”
“I know,” I repeat.
We ride down the elevator and walk through the lobby hand in hand, out the front door, and into the afternoon summer heat. It’s fucking humid and windy. Looks like rain clouds are forming, hopefully a storm will roll in and cool things down.
“Mr. Everton? I’m Detective Perry and this is my partner...”
“Matthew,” I cut in and reach my hand out to a detective I know all too well. He’s from the special victims unit, and we’ve worked closely with one another in dissecting the events that took place during the past decade inside of Paul Jameson’s pornography business, and all of Jameson Industries for that matter.
“So this is about my father. If you don’t need me for support, Cove, I’ll b
e upstairs.”
“Mr. Everton, you’ve been accused of sexual assault. Can you tell us your whereabouts over the past three hours?”
My heart drops to the sidewalk as Sophia stops dead in her tracks and does a one-eighty in less than a millisecond.
“Jesus, Perry. You could have waited until the wife got inside.”
“Sorry. Let’s talk in private.”
“Fuck no!” Sophia shouts. “Who would say such a thing?”
“Am I under arrest?” I say in my calmest voice, even though every square inch of my body is starting to sweat, including my teeth. Oh fuck. I’m gonna fucking pass out. Keep talking so you don’t panic.
“No, you’re not under arrest at the moment. We have some questions we’d like you to answer. Can you tell us where you were?”
“He was at our business, The Dark Scarlett. We had a broken window and then he bought me chocolate and we made love. Alright? That’s been his day.”
“Soph, don’t say another word. Come on, let’s go back inside.”
“Mr. Everton, if you don’t answer our questions it will be construed as refusing to comply, and then we do have the grounds to place you under arrest on this charge. I would think twice about attempting to walk away from a few simple questions.”
“Sophia, go inside.”
“No. You didn’t do anything, Cove. Answer their questions so we can clear this up. Who would accuse you of such a thing anyway?”
Fuck, they can see the beads of sweat on my forehead; I know it. What do I do? Fucking think, asshole. Think. “See if my father’s home, tell him to get our lawyer on the phone.”
“Hell no, I’m not leaving your side. I’ll get a hold of him from here.” She holds out her hand for my phone and makes the call.
“I was exactly where my wife just said I was.”
“We stopped by your business,” Detective Perry continues while Matthew is silent. He knows me. He knows I wouldn’t do this and I can tell he doesn’t want to be here. “Your accuser said you were there, but when we arrived your security guard said you left around ten-thirty and haven’t been back since; it’s now one o’clock. Can you tell us...”
“Your mother and father aren’t home,” Sophia says.
“Try his cell, but not my mother’s. Don’t call her yet.” I stare into Detective Perry’s eyes. I don’t want Sophia to hear that I drove to the Tribune news building after leaving the Scarlett, and then to Kaitlyn Moore’s house. It will sound like I was looking for her, when the reality is I was searching for my father. Fuck, why did I do that? This better not have anything to do with her.
“Mr. Everton, one last time. Did you go anywhere else during that time period?”
“Cove, your father’s on his way. He said not to answer any more questions until you have a lawyer present, even if it means you’ll be arrested.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. Go upstairs and lock up, meet me at the station.”
“This is bullshit!” she shouts again. “If Ivy has anything to do with...”
“Sophia!” I yell. “Keep your mouth shut and go inside.”
“Ivy Moore?” the detective questions.
“No, Ivy Less. How many Ivy’s do you know?” my wife is letting her bitch out, and this is the point she usually...
“I’m gonna fucking kill that woman if she had anything to do with this.”
Yeah, the point when she makes a dumbass mistake. “Sophia, now!” I’m trying my best to keep calm, especially in front of the detectives, considering what I’m being accused of, but goddammit, she shouldn’t give them any ammunition either. I stare her down until she heads inside and then turn to Matthew. “I’ll comply. We can go to the station and you can ask me questions with my lawyer present. If you feel that’s not cooperating, and it’s grounds for an arrest, so be it.” I hold my hands out and wait for the cuffs.
CHAPTER FIVE
At least they got me a glass of water so I can run my finger around the rim. It gives me something to do while our family lawyer is getting his shit together. I hate police stations, particularly this one. I’m familiar with every crack in the wall, how many holes are in each square ceiling tile, and the average number of people in and out of the main door each day. I’ve been in these interrogation rooms for months, talking about Sophia’s father and his criminal acts, with this same lawyer by my side for every conversation, and now I’m being accused of something just as horrific... by Ivy Moore. I must be jinxed. That’s it, there’s a fucking curse on me.
“Cove,” my lawyer puts his pen down and places his notes in his briefcase. I run my fingers through my hair and wait for some solid advice from a man who’s been doing this for decades. His finely trimmed gray hair and thousand-dollar suit convey the presence of a renowned, experienced, professional to anyone who enters the room, and I’m glad he’s by my side.
“You okay?” he asks.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?”
“Stay calm. I’ll take care of this, after what you’ve told me it sounds like the girl’s upset that you fired her.”
“Or I’m being set up.”
“Cove, I’m serious. I want you to take a few deep breaths and calm down.”
I place my hands on my head and exhale. He’s right. I’m furious... and shitting bricks. Damn it, I don’t want to be entangled in this and go through the same thing my father went through years ago. “Is she okay? She’s not badly injured, is she? I feel awful that this happened to her, even though she’s saying I did it.”
He straightens his tie then checks his cell. “Hang in there alright? Your parents and Sophia are out front and everything’s going to be okay. A rape kit was given at the hospital and I’ve been told there was evidence left behind, but that’s all I know. You haven’t been arrested yet, and if you’re innocent, we can easily clear this up after you answer a few questions and take a DNA test.”
“What do you mean, if I’m innocent? And anyway, this station already did a DNA test on me months ago... in fact, they did two, remember? The swab and the blood test. Do they need another? Can’t they just use what they already have? I don’t want to fucking wait forever for the results.”
“I’ll talk to them about it. I’m sure it’s still in their databank,” he checks his phone again, always fucking looking at his cell. “Cove, remember to watch your language while you’re questioned. Are you ready to speak with the detectives, or is there something else you’d like to discuss?”
I nod and take a deep breath. “Ready.”
He’s only gone a few minutes before returning with Detective Perry and another detective who I’ve seen around this office many times. They’re an awkward pair. Perry is one of those midwestern-cowboy-wannabe types. Wearing black cowboy boots, tight black jeans with a large belt buckle, and a white button down shirt that has pearl snaps, he could easily step right into a contemporary western. I eye him rolling his sleeves like he’s preparing for a fight as he takes the seat in front of me. Black hair, blue eyes, and a full mustache. The other detective is half his size, a woman probably in her thirties, who seems to have opted out of the soft appearance dress of her partner and is in full uniform. She joins us at the table and stares into my eyes.
“Mr. Everton, you’ve met Detective Perry, and I’m Detective Menendez, you’ve been accused of sexually assaulting Miss Ivy Moore. We understand that she’s an employee of yours, is this correct?”
“Former employee. She was fired earlier today.”
“And that’s why you called her in this morning, so you could fire her?”
“No. I called her because she brought an article to work about my wife’s father, Paul Jameson. I wanted to question her about it, and read it myself. I needed to make sure it wasn’t anything that was going to cause my family any harm. I know you know who I am, and I don’t believe I have to explain what I mean by that.”
“Cove,” my lawyer raises a brow as a signal to relax.
“I’m sorry. Please c
ontinue,” I say.
“Why did you fire Miss Moore?”
“She mouthed off to me, called me by my porn name, and joked about the industry. I found her words to be very disrespectful to me and my wife.”
“And she left when you fired her?”
“Yes, in tears. My head of security for the Scarlett was there and witnessed the entire conversation.”
“Did you see her after that?”
“No.”
“How long was it after she left that you decided to leave the building?”
“About thirty or forty-five minutes.”
“Which door did you exit?”
Detective Menendez is asking the questions as the other detective is leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed.
“I went out the front door.”
“Were you in the back parking lot of your building at any time today?”
“Are you saying Ivy was raped on my property?”
“Cove.” My lawyer cuts in again. He said I should keep my mouth shut except to answer their questions. I close my eyes and exhale then continue on.
“The last time I was in the parking lot was with my wife and security guard when we closed the bar, but not since.”
“What time did you leave The Dark Scarlett this morning?”
“I believe around ten-thirty.”
A text comes through Detective Perry’s phone and he shows it to his partner then leaves the room. Good. The less people staring at me the better. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans but quickly stop when I remember it’s a sign of guilt, and decide to sit on them instead. They’re shaking like an old car engine and I could really use a drink right about now. Fuck.
“What did you do then?” the detective asks.
“I drove over to the Tribune news building on Market Street and circled it a few times searching for my father’s car.”
“Why?”
God, this is gonna take forever. “It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time,” she holds a straight face and glares into my eyes once more.
I tell her about Ivy’s mother, more about the article, and how my father fits into all of this, and my drive in the city to try and locate him. When I hear myself talk about it, I’d say I was guilty. It sounds fishy and completely unbelievable. I fired an employee and then went to her mother’s business and private residence afterward? What the fuck for? Am I a stalker or something? I seem like a creep. My lawyer signals me to continue on, even though I’m hesitant and would probably fair better if I just made something up.