Release (Iris Series)

by Lynn, Rebecca

  He continued talking in a low voice. “Don’t say a word. I’ve called my lawyer, and he’s on his way, but it might be awhile before he gets here. I’m not leaving your side,” he said, his voice laced with resolve.

  He released her, but stayed close. She looked up in confusion.

  “What the hell are you tal…”she began.

  “Ms. Thornton? Ryann Thornton?”

  Ryann turned to see the man who had been talking to Jeremy. He looked to be in his late 20’s, was tall, and looked vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place him. He was handsome, and had dark hair and eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Detective Michael Callahan, with the NYPD. I’d like to ask you some questions about your whereabouts last night.”

  Callahan? A light bulb went off in her head. She remembered meeting him briefly at the Academy graduation ceremony two summers ago. “Are you Robbie’s brother?”

  He smirked, looking slightly sheepish. “Yes.”

  Another light bulb went off. She looked at Jeremy, his jaw clenched as if it was about to break. “Don’t say anything, Ryann. Wait for my attorney to get here.”

  “He’s your cousin.”

  “Yes, he is. Much to my annoyance at the moment,” Jeremy muttered dryly. “No more talking now, Ryann.”

  “What’s this about?” she asked, becoming agitated.

  Jeremy turned to her in exasperation. “Ryann, we’ll talk about it when my attorney gets here. Let’s get you up to your apartment.” He turned to Robbie’s brother. “There’s no need to take her to the station, Mike. We’ll just wait here for my lawyer. He should be here soon, then all of this will be cleared up.”

  Just then, she heard people laughing at the entrance as they walked into the foyer. It was Jonathan and Emily. They saw her and waved, walking the short distance over.

  “Hey, Ry. Jeremy.” Then he turned back to Ryann. “Hey, I heard about the painting. It’s all over the news. Were you there at the gala last night?” Jonathan asked.

  Ryann started to answer, but Jeremy interrupted. “She can’t talk about that right now. Mike, let’s get her up to the apartment. Please.”

  “What’s going on? You ok?” Jonathan asked her, showing concern. Emily’s petite form perked up next to him.

  Ryann was beginning to think this had to do with the painting, but she had no idea why anyone would think she would know anything. Before Jeremy could stop her, she shook her head in confusion, and said under her breath, “Apparently, I need a lawyer.”

  Emily stepped forward. “I’m happy to help.” She was dressed in fitted jeans, t-shirt and flip flops, with her blonde hair in a messy topknot, and her stylish glasses highlighting her pretty almond shaped brown eyes. Ryann had completely forgotten she was an attorney. She looked like a studious co-ed.

  Emily turned to Jeremy’s cousin and said, “My name’s Emily White. I’m an attorney, and I’ll be representing Ms. Thornton. Let’s take this to a more private setting, ok? I’m going to need a moment to confer with her, but I’ll need to know what this is about first. Is she being charged with something?”

  Detective Mike Callahan gave Emily an obvious once over with his eyes, then cleared his throat. “She’s been accused of having something to do with the stolen Mackenzie Renault painting.”

  …..

  Ryann sat on her sofa, stunned. When she was still down in the foyer and Detective Callahan had told her she had basically been accused of stealing the painting, she couldn’t help herself. She had been overcome with a fit of giggles, and burst out, “What?!”

  Both Emily and Jeremy had shouted at the same time, “Don’t talk!”

  Again, Ryann couldn’t seem to control herself. Perhaps it was the exhaustion. Perhaps it was the emotion still so close to the surface. Whatever it was, she had continued laughing, and said, “That’s ridiculous!”

  Emily had taken her arm, gently but firmly, and said to the men, “I’ll take Ryann up to her apartment in the elevator first. Alone. We need to talk. You all can follow us up after.”

  Jeremy had attempted to go with them, but Ryann had said no, the pain still raw from the night before. He’d looked hurt, but he’d backed down, and stayed back with the men.

  While in the elevator, Emily riddled her with questions, and Ryann answered every single one. She’d told her that she’d been at her mom’s all night, and she still had the train ticket stubs in her bag.

  Emily had asked what her relationship was to Jeremy, and Ryann told her that they had been seeing each other but had recently broken up. Emily seemed satisfied, and told Ryann she could answer the questions put forth by the detective, but to follow Emily’s cues.

  So there she sat on her sofa, waiting for the men to arrive, and wondering who could’ve mentioned her name in conjunction with stealing the painting. Emily was wondering the same thing.

  Jennifer’s name was the only one that had come to mind, so Ryann quickly explained the complaint at the Institute, but didn’t get very far in the telling, as the door knock sounded in the apartment.

  Emily let Michael and Jeremy in. Apparently, Jonathan wasn’t allowed to stay, though why Jeremy was allowed to, Ryann didn’t know. Maybe he bribed his cousin. Emily turned to Ryann and asked her quietly if she wanted Jeremy to stay, and she hesitated. She looked at Jeremy still talking to his cousin, then nodded.

  Robbie’s brother turned to Jeremy when they walked in, seemingly continuing the conversation from the hallway. “Remember, Jem. The only way you stay, is if you keep that mouth of yours shut. One peep out of you, and you’re gone.”

  Jeremy glared at him, then nodded, and sat next to Ryann on the sofa, taking hold of her hand. Ryann tried to remove it, but Jeremy held tight. He gave her a steely look, challenging her, and Ryann glared back at him. Not wanting to choose that moment to get into it, she relented, allowing him to hold it.

  Emily sat on the other side of the sofa next to Ryann, while Detective Callahan sat in the chair next to Emily. When he sat down, the detective’s knee bumped into Emily’s. She looked up, and he just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, a cool smirk on his face.

  That eyebrow move must’ve been a family trait. She’d seen the same expression on Jeremy plenty of times. It was obvious the detective was toying with Emily, and that he probably didn’t have warm feelings toward lawyers, because not only did he not apologize for bumping into Emily, he leaned forward to put his forearms on the bent knees of his long legs, crowding Emily’s space, forcing her to sit back farther on the sofa.

  Emily gave him a look, her brown eyes now darkened in annoyance that screamed asshole.

  With Jeremy on one side, and his equally tall cousin on the other, Ryann felt like she was in the land of the giants.

  The questions began.

  “You attended the gala last night?”

  Ryann swallowed, and she could feel Jeremy’s hand squeeze hers.

  “For a short time.”

  “I was there, as well. With my family, but I don’t believe I saw you.”

  Jeremy huffed out an annoyed sound.

  “I was there for a very short time.”

  “When?”

  “I arrived at 7:30, and left by eight.”

  “Why did you leave so early?” he asked quietly.

  Ryann got the distinct impression that he was asking as a cousin, not as a detective.

  “I...began to feel sick, and decided to go home.”

  As if sensing she would remove her hand from his, Jeremy reached his other hand over, sandwiching her hand between the two of his, and then began playing with her fingers. He was looking down, and she could see the movement of his throat, while he swallowed.

  “How did you get home?”

  “I took a cab.”

  “Alone?” Again, she got the impression this was a cousin question.

  “No. Armand DiCarlo, he’s the man who…”

  “That’s ok, I know he is. Keep going.”

  “Armand saw me
when I was…feeling sick, and took me out a side entrance to get me a cab. He rode home with me and walked me to my door.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” She was getting tired of the detective asking what seemed like questions on behalf of his cousin.

  “What happened next?”

  “He left, I came inside, and made a last minute decision to go visit my mom in Connecticut.”

  Jeremy let go of a breath, then squeezed her hand.

  The detective nodded. “Where in Connecticut?”

  “I took the train into New Haven. My mom picked me up and we went to her house in Hamden.”

  The detective wrote it down. “That was a very quick trip. Why so short?”

  Ryann sighed, and plugged through, anxious for the questions to be done. “I awoke early, visited with my mom, and when my stepfather told me he saw the story in the paper about the Mackenzie Renault painting being stolen, I decided to head back.”

  “Any other reasons for heading back so quickly?”

  Emily interrupted. “I’m afraid your questions are going to be short in their duration, detective. My client has her ticket stubs from the train rides back and forth, and her alibi can easily be verified by an officer with the Hamden PD.”

  The detective and Emily stared each other down, then Robbie’s brother said. “Ms. Thornton, Jennifer Edwards was one of the people who cast suspicion on you for stealing the painting.”

  She heard Jeremy say “Shit!”, and Ryann snorted, shaking her head in frustration. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “I’m aware of the complaint that you submitted which led to her resignation from the Institute.”

  Emily looked up at Ryann. Ryann sighed and quickly finished explaining what led to her complaint, blushing furiously having to discuss her and Jeremy’s relationship. She didn’t go into too much detail, but just gave the highlights.

  Emily then said, “So, it’s understandable what Jennifer’s motivations are. You said Jennifer was only one of the people...?”

  “Armand DiCarlo was the other one,” the detective said quietly, watching Ryann’s reaction closely.

  “Armand?” Ryann asked in surprise.

  “Son of a bitch!” Jeremy exclaimed.

  “Jem, get your ass in the kitchen. Right now. Or leave the apartment. Take your pick,” his cousin said.

  “There’s no way I’m leaving,” Jeremy fumed.

  “I told you to keep your mouth shut. It’s obvious you’re not going to be able to do that. So either get your ass in the kitchen, or get the hell out of here.”

  Jeremy was still furious. He turned to Ryann. “What did he do last night? Did he make a pass at you?”

  The detective stood and yelled, “Jem, get to the kitchen, and let me do my job! Now.”

  “I have a right to know!”

  Ryann’s own anger peaked at that moment. “No. You don’t. You gave up that right last night…or was it earlier than last night? Maybe a week and a half ago. When you were in Boston?” she growled.

  Jeremy looked like he had been punched in the gut, and Ryann felt a moment of remorse. But only a moment. Good. Let him see how it feels.

  He let go of her hand, and stormed into the kitchen.

  The detective took a cleansing breath, and sat back down.

  “Let me clarify...Jennifer Edwards was the first to mention your name, and DiCarlo corroborated some of her suspicions...First, does DiCarlo have any reason to cast suspicion your way?”

  Ryann thought back to the scene outside her door. She sighed, knowing full well that Jeremy was going to overhear everything she was about to say.

  “He’s been expressing his…interest…for the past week and a half or so. Last night, when he saw that I was…sick…he brought me home, and…” She sighed, anticipating the noise about to come from the kitchen. “He…wanted to come in with me, and I said no.”

  They could all hear Jeremy mumbling in the kitchen, and the detective rolled his eyes in exasperation at the sounds coming from the other room.

  “And did he take no for an answer?”

  She hesitated, then said, “He was persistent, but as I said, he eventually left. A little angry, but he left.”

  “You said eventually. How did you know he was angry? Did he do or say something to indicate his anger?”

  “He was…annoyed. He…he kissed me on the neck, but I pushed him away and asked him to respect my wishes. He was a little put out, and didn’t leave until I was inside my apartment, but he left.”

  She heard a “Good” come from the kitchen, and couldn’t help but smirk. The detective seemed to think it amusing as well. Then he got serious.

  “DiCarlo and Edwards both agreed that you knew the inner workings of the Institute due to your relationship with Jeremy, and Jennifer Edwards said that you had been asking a lot of questions about the layout of the building.”

  Ryann frowned. “That’s not true.”

  “And DiCarlo also said that you asked him to give you a private showing of the painting yesterday afternoon. That you wanted to be alone with him, and had seemed interested in the security detail.”

  She heard what sounded like a fist pounding on the kitchen counter, and said, “No. That’s also not true. I was on my way out at around three, because classes ended early, but Armand saw me and asked if I wanted to see the painting since it had just been set up. He took me back to show it to me, then I left. I never asked any questions. The only topic of conversation that continued to come up with Armand were his constant observations about… about my relationship with Jeremy, and what a womanizer Jeremy is.”

  She heard the word ‘fuck’ come from the kitchen, then took a deep breath and continued. “And that when Jeremy showed his true colors, Armand would be waiting to pick up where Jeremy left off. But Armand always initiated those conversations. In fact he told me when I first met him that he had asked Jennifer to introduce us to each other.”

  The expletives heard from the kitchen only contributed to her pissed off state. She was ready to have it out with Jeremy, and for everyone else to be gone.

  “Detective, it’s obvious these are juvenile accusations by DiCarlo and Edwards. There’s no evidence that Ms. Thornton has had anything to do with this. This has all been done out of spite and jealousy. Verify her alibi, and let’s be done with this,” Emily said.

  Michael Callahan looked at Emily, then turned to Ryann, and said, “Don’t leave the City, Ms. Thornton. We’ll call when your alibi’s been checked.”

  They all got up, and the detective moved to the door. Michael looked at Emily, letting his gaze obviously appreciate her cute figure, and smirked, “Counselor. It was nice...seeing....you.”

  Emily bristled just as Jeremy reappeared from the kitchen, glaring at his cousin who smiled back at him.

  “So, Jem,” Michael began with an innocent look on his face, “now that my official capacity here is done, I’ve been dying to ask… When did you and your fiancé get engaged?”

  Ryann jerked her head up. Engaged? He was engaged?! She thought back to the woman from the night before and nearly passed out from the pain that tore through her.

  A wave of dizziness hit her, and she realized she had begun to hyperventilate. She must have made a noise, because Jeremy looked at her stricken face, and started to run toward her, when Ryann whispered, “You fucking bastard...fucking asshole!” she sputtered, all of the hurt and rage she’d felt for the last several hours shaking her voice.

  Ryann pushed Jeremy in the chest. “Get the hell out of my apartment! GET OUT!!” she screamed, furious tears falling from her eyes.

  The detective looked completely confused and a little worried, and walked back into the room. “What the hell…?”

  Jeremy grabbed her arms, and yelled over her, “Stop! It’s you, Ryann! He’s talking about you!”

  She stopped struggling and then, overcome with uncertainty, fatigue, and emotion from the entire ordeal, she collapsed in exhaustion to the f
loor, with Jeremy and Emily immediately dropping down next to her.

  Ryann could barely make out what was going on around her, but she vaguely heard Jeremy’s cousin asking what he should do, and Jeremy telling everyone to leave. She didn’t care. She just wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep. Escape the shitstorm that had become her life.

  Jeremy carried her into the bedroom, and she didn’t fight him. She didn’t have the energy.

  He laid her down, and took off her sneakers and socks, then crawled in after her, spooning her from behind, his arm holding her tight to him. He rested his face on hers, rubbing their cheeks together, and rocked her.

  “There’s only you, baby. I swear. There’s only you,” he kept murmuring over and over, his voice thick with emotion. “Shh.” He continued to rock her, but the events of the last day finally took over body, and she fell into a deep sleep.

  …..

  Ryann awoke to an empty bed. She looked around the bedroom and wondered if she’d dreamed Jeremy holding her. As she turned her head, she found a note next to her.

  Hi baby,

  My attorney just got here, so I’m going to run down to talk to him. Then I’m going to go get us some food down the block since you don’t have much in the fridge. I should be back by 2 at the latest. If you wake up before I get back, don’t you dare think of going anywhere. First of all, I took your key so I could get back in without having to wake you. But second of all, I swear, Ryann, if you leave, I’ll hunt you down. Neither of us is going to sleep tonight until we talk everything through.

  Please don’t worry about anything, baby. It’s all going to be okay. I promise.

  Only yours,

  Jeremy

  She was crying again. God, the last time she’d cried this much was when Brent died. She sat there for a moment to gather her thoughts, wiping at her eyes. She looked at the clock. It was 1:30, and she wondered how long ago he’d left.

  Her intercom buzzed. She got up, and walked like an old woman to the intercom. She hoped it wasn’t the detectives again. Or the press, she thought suspiciously. Had her name gotten out there as a suspect?

  “Hello?”

  “Umm, hi. Is this Ryann Thornton?” a woman’s voice asked nervously.