Amber. Amber. Roxie didn’t have the list of Velocity personnel. It was back at Grant’s. She couldn’t put a face or title to the name offhand. If Amber wasn’t a guest at the party, she had to be an employee. Was Amber one of the servers who delivered Ben’s drinks?
“You said this Amber seemed worried. Before Sonny showed up?”
He nodded. “And that makes sense too. When he was telling me about how he found me, he said when he was coming to my door, he heard some noises—pops.”
The gun. Josh being killed.
“After I’d thought about it, I figured maybe that was what spooked Amber, too, hearing the gunshots.”
Oh, dear God, almighty. Sonny, freaking lying by omission, Sonny! He heard the gunshots, saw Ben in a different room than the one Josh was killed in. He alone could have prevented Ben’s arrest. And this woman, she heard gunshots, too, with Ben clearly not holding a gun at the time. Two separate humans who could testify the impossibility of Ben being the murderer!
“Why hasn’t Sonny said anything? Why the hell—” She groaned. “I can understand you lawyering up as soon as the cops showed up. You were drugged. You were out of it. Okay. But why didn’t Sonny tell the cops anything?”
Jesus, was he the one who killed Josh? The bodyguard killing his boss’s enemy for him? But this fiasco with Amber, how the heck did that work in? Coincidence?
First, she needed to talk to Sonny. Then this Amber. How much it could change Ben’s fate…
“I don’t know. He told me everything in the morning. Sheree was gone. Sonny went off to locate Amber, and I stayed home to wait to see Sheree, warn her something fishy was going on. But then the cops showed. I haven’t spoken to Sonny since that day.”
Roxie pinched the bridge of her nose, massaging the start of a stress headache.
“Talk to Sonny,” he urged. “As soon as they’re done talking to Sheree.”
No shit.
Before departing the visitation room as their time came to an end, Roxie promised Ben she would bring Grant up to speed on his alibi—as faint and blurry as it was. It wasn’t so much Ben’s story as Sonny’s that would break this, she mused as she got on the MARTA, heading for Grant’s office.
Grant had long ago explained to her that by pleading the fifth, Ben wouldn’t testify in court. And if he had an alibi to be used in the police investigation of Josh’s death, it would have had to have been filed and provided to prosecution well before this late date in the case. Definitely before all the extensions granted during their discovery period.
But Sonny. He had suddenly become crucial. She bet he was at the Rohn residence with Sheree and Grant, but she called him anyway. He answered on the fourth ring.
“Amber.” It was all Roxie said as a greeting. “Where is she?”
And that was all he obviously needed to hear to sigh.
In a hushed voice, he said he was in the middle of the detective’s attempt to interview Sheree. Grant was there—Roxie could hear him in the background.
“I can explain,” Sonny said.
Oh, you better.
“For concealing information? How? Just why?” Roxie grunted. “Where is she? I need to speak with her.”
“It won’t help,” he whispered.
“It won’t help? She can prove Ben couldn’t have killed Josh!”
“Not really. I can explain. As soon as these guys are done, I’ll tell Grant—”
“He won’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I’ll tell you—”
Roxie held her breath, waiting for him to continue. “Hello?” The phone buzzed in her hand, prompting her to glance at it just as the screen light flashed bright and ceased.
Dead battery? Now? With a wince, she realized she hadn’t been at home to properly follow her routine of plugging her phone in on her nightstand.
“Shit.”
Arriving at Kaniz’s building, she exited the bus and bee-lined for Grant’s office.
“In a hurry?” Tara said as they crossed paths in the hall.
Oh, shove it up yours, you icy, two-timing liar.
Roxie unlocked Grant’s office, dug through Grant’s briefcase with the employee lists, and searched for Amber. Amber Durbin. Server. Son of a gun, she was probably the one who gave Ben the drinks. And nothing popped up during her interview with the police? No funny business was reported from the detectives who spoke to the serving staff.
On her laptop, Roxie searched for an address and found the last one at an apartment near the university. Before she ran off again, she grabbed the mobile charger from Grant’s desk, stuck the cord into her phone, shoved the combo into her tote, and then left.
She had no clue how long Grant would be tied up with Sheree, nor how long Sonny would be stuck there with them. Sonny lived with the Rohns, assuming protection of Sheree since Ben wasn’t there. He’d leave when Grant left, she guessed. Taking a taxi, she tried to catch her breath as she rode the distance to Amber’s apartment, rehearsing some semblance of a professional interview.
The address of 3018 Goodall brought her to a standard contemporary student housing complex, beige siding, symmetrically pruned and planted evergreen shrubs in beds of lava-red mulch. Everything screamed ‘new’, from the un-cracked white sidewalk slabs to the shiny gold doorknobs and peephole frames. Not enough time for frat parties and young college kids to ruin the premises yet.
Roxie knocked on the door for one Amber Durbin, blonde, temporarily topless stranger in Ben’s room the night Josh was murdered.
A redhead, with tresses not as blinding as her own, greeted her, not a blonde. “Amber?”
The curvy redhead at the door rolled her eyes and scoffed, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, her feet crossed at her ankles. “Yeah, like anyone would confuse my fat ass with that bean pole.”
Leaning back, Roxie checked the numbers on the wall. “Do you know where I can find her?”
“Maybe in hell.”
All righty then. Going nowhere fast here, Rox. “Okay…”
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Roxie Malone, I work for Grant Newland—”
The young woman held up a palm. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I just thought you might be a prof or something, but the school already knows.”
“Knows what?”
The girl scrunched up her face. “You’re not, like, a long-lost cousin or something, right? I mean this is a shitty way to break the news.”
“No. Not a cousin. What news?”
“Amber’s dead.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Dead? How? How could this vital person be dead? Now?
“I’m sorry to hear…” Roxie couldn’t compute further comment.
“Yeah, well, I’m not. She was a bitch.” The redhead gave a snarky laugh and stepped back. “Come on in. I’m Steph. I’m her roommate. Was. Still gotta get used to that.”
Roxie entered the apartment. At least Steph was taking the loss…well.
“She was a colossal bitch. Stole all my shit. Ate my food. Slept with my boyfriend.”
“Sorry to hear.”
“Yeah, well that’s what I get for being stuck with a random for dorm selection. Then there was a fire on campus and we were offered free moves to this place. Yada, yada, yada. Anyway, what do you need? Relatives have already come by for some of her stuff.” Steph kicked at a sweatshirt on the floor of the room she’d led Roxie to. “Some of it. I don’t know what to do with the rest of her crap.”
“Goodwill?”
“Yeah. Like I have the time to play Molly housemaid and get all her crap together and lug it to some nasty place downtown. I’ve got finals next week.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, you work for apartment management or something? If you need to see her space and stuff, have at it. I’d love to have a new roomie. Maybe not a total ditz this time?”
Steph’s attitude screamed loud and clear, but Roxie didn’t have the time to explain she was not, in
fact, a person arriving to help her remove all traces of her former roommate.
“How did Amber pass away?”
Steph shrugged. “Drunk driver.”
“She was drinking and driving?”
“No. Well, actually, yeah, she was wasted. But she was in an Uber. Another car hit them and they all died.”
Amber’s death after her mysterious involvement in Ben’s hotel room—was there a connection?
“Anyway, like I said, exams are next week. I’ve gotta get back to studying. Whatever you want, you’re likely to find it in here. ’Kay?” Steph knocked on the doorframe a couple times and scooted out of the room.
Left in the deceased’s room, Roxie drummed her fingers on her thigh. So…now what?
Look for something that connected her to Ben? To the Hawks? To…anything?
Am I trespassing here?
Amber’s death had to be part of the reason why Sonny alluded to her presence in Ben’s room not helping or making a difference for Ben’s innocence. If she was dead, she wouldn’t be much of a witness in court.
Sitting on the edge of Amber’s cluttered desk—covered with cosmetics and empty fast food containers—Roxie felt she’d gotten so far, yet nowhere. And she could have just been patient and waited for Grant and Sheree to finish with the detectives for Sonny to simply tell her Amber had died.
It really was no help. Amber was in the room that night after Ben and Josh’s elevator arrived on the VIP floor. Her video could have proved Ben’s presence. Her living testimony could have proved her witnessing him not shooting Josh.
Even though there wasn’t video to back him up, she—they—still had Sonny and his word. He could testify to finding Ben in his own room.
Why Sonny had lied, not told the truth when investigated… Roxie rubbed the back of her neck. Yes, why? Why would a person lie to the police? Why would someone lie on the stand? Perjury was right up her alley. She’d lied to protect Lucy, to keep Lucy. So what was motivating Sonny not to bring his story to light to help Ben?
Buzzes sounded from her tote and Roxie pulled her phone out. Text from Kelly. Roxie allowed herself a small, quick smile at the picture of her babysitter holding Lucy on her lap, bunny ear headband on the little girl’s head. Autopilot guided her through the absent moves of saving the image to her device via PhotoBinn. So many pictures, all those memories of Lucy she’d treasure forever. She’d told herself time and time again to actually print some out and put them into the baby record book Sophia had gotten for her at Lucy’s birth. Eh, time, that thing she never had enough of in a day. At least the pictures would be there forever.
Distracted by the errant thoughts of Lucy, Roxie stood, knowing there was nothing she could do in Amber’s apartment. Without the woman to testify, without her video, she had nothing.
Stopping mid-step at the doorway, her breath caught. Video. Sonny smashed Amber’s phone at Velocity. Destroyed the video. No. If the student had an app similar to PhotoBinn on her smartphone—like so many people had—her video would have been backed up automatically. Or if Amber had gotten another phone, a replacement, all her images and videos should have saved to her account and transferred. Only with Sonny’s silence, and surprisingly, Amber’s too, no one would have known to retrieve any lost footage.
Roxie spun around, searching the room. Amber’s parents probably already had taken the woman’s laptop. Running, Roxie left the room and knocked on a closed door, hoping scornful Steph was inside.
Steph answered, taking headphones off her ears. “Yeah? You done?”
“Would you happen to know if Amber used any storage apps on her phone?” Even as she asked the question, she knew it was a long shot. Clearly the roomies hadn’t been friends. Why would Steph know or care what Amber had on her phone?
“Actually, yeah. I do. She was bitching about the fees on PicDrop and I told her to try PhotoBinn.”
Ah! Bingo!
“Any idea what her username could have been?”
Steph shrugged. “Probably the same as her Facebook account. Ambster11. She always used her birthdate as her password.”
Roxie could have kissed the student with such a rotten attitude. She was either cluelessly careless in providing answers and access to Amber’s previous life, or didn’t give a crap about the dangers of oversharing.
With a half-assed welcome to come back if she needed anything else—as long as Amber’s ‘crap’ was still there, Steph bade her goodbye and Roxie left.
For a degree of privacy while watching Amber’s video, Roxie took a cab back to the Kaniz offices to wait for Grant. She logged into PhotoBinn’s app and typed in Amber’s information. As the screen loaded a grid of thumbnails, Roxie’s breath quickened.
The proverbial golden chalice. Solid physical evidence in her hands. After all this time. Answers at last!
She scrolled to the date of the party at Velocity and chose the only video from that evening. Before she pressed play, she rooted through her tote and plugged in her earbuds to be able to hear the audio better in the background noise of the cab trudging through downtown.
It was a hotel room, Ben’s, Roxie presumed. Amber was in there, adjusting the phone on a selfie stick. In her Velocity uniform, Amber was a match. Amber was the blonde who was seen serving Ben two drinks downstairs. After she fluffed her hair and fussed around the room for a bit, she disappeared from the view. A moment later, she returned with Ben slumped at her shoulder.
Ben’s massive muscular weight and towering basketball-player height nearly did Amber in. Grunts sounded as she escorted Ben to the bed and let him fall to the mattress, his eyes closed and head lolling like he was dead to the world. Next, she climbed on top of him, kissed him, rubbed him, and slapped his arm over her back. Then she sat up and removed her shirt and bra, straddling him. Still no noise, it was eerie, like viewing a questionable porno or horror flick.
Topless, she leaned back over Ben, giving him some loving. Again she reared back to sit and tried to remove his shirt. She had to get off the bed and stand next to him, tugging and pulling the shirt sleeves against his dead weight. And that was how Ben fell to the floor, from Amber’s attempt to disrobe him.
A loud thud sounded as Ben landed on the floor and Amber hurried after him.
“Hey,” a man’s voice said in the background.
Roxie frowned as she listened and watched. Sonny?
“What’s he doing on the floor?” the man again.
“I had him on the bed, but I couldn’t get his shirt off.”
“Leave him there. It will still work,” he said.
That voice…Roxie knew it… Not Sonny’s deep baritone, though.
The camera feed jostled as it was moved, a dark-skinned arm and hand blocking the view. After the playing video, Roxie gaped at the revised position. Jaydon stood in front of the recording device, removing his shirt.
“All right, get down. Closer to him.”
Amber straddled Ben on the floor and Jaydon, now topless, kneeled down near Ben’s head.
Oh, please don’t let this be some kinky-ass disgusting threesome.
Violence, not sex followed.
As soon as Amber nodded she was ready, Jaydon punched her in the face. Amber recoiled, holding her arms up as a block.
“Again?” she asked.
“Maybe choking,” Jaydon said and wrapped his hands around her neck. Amber coughed, scratched at his hands.
“Here, ready?” Jaydon asked next, taking his hands from Amber’s skin. He slapped her roughly, causing her head to jerk back.
“I’m not getting any good coverage.” Amber said, rubbing her jaw. “I want my tits in here.”
Jaydon grinned and tweaked her nipple. “They’ll be in there. We’ll have it edited later.” He looked down at Ben. “How long’s he been out?”
Amber shrugged. “Maybe a half hour? Can I take his pants off? I could suck him off.”
“He’s not going to get it up.” Jaydon sneered.
“So. I could get my
mouth around him and—”
“Can’t put that shit online. We got enough. You finish up and get the fuck outta here. All right?” Jaydon stood and started putting his shirt on. “We’ll settle payment tomorrow like we discussed.”
Jaydon left the range of the video. Amber stood up, leaving Ben on the floor, and three distinct pops sounded in the video.
Roxie swallowed past the tightness in her throat. She just heard Josh being killed. A witness. She was now a witness, watching this effed-up video—this attempt at a sex tape.
Amber stilled in the video and frowned at the wall and then down at Ben. Ben groaned. Faster than her previous leisurely pace, Amber moved around the room, maybe searching for her shirt. She stopped suddenly and backpedaled to the empty bed.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Sonny said as he came into view.
“I, uh, I—” Amber stuttered, cowering as Sonny came nearer. He glanced at her and paled as he spied Ben on the floor.
“What the fuck did you do to him?” Sonny was on his knees, checking Ben’s pulse and slapping his cheeks. “Ben! Ben!”
Sonny got up and grabbed Amber’s arm. “What the hell did you give him?”
In a quick scan of the room, he seemed to search for whatever he’d guessed knocked out Ben, and his glare ended on the camera, still recording from the selfie stick. With Amber clutched in one hand, her face painted with fear, he strode to the camera, tugging her with him, and picked up the phone.
And it was over.
Roxie blinked, unable to raise her face. She never would have believed it if she hadn’t seen it. When Grant insisted Ben wasn’t telling him—or anyone—where he was when Josh was killed, Roxie instinctively wondered if he’d been cheating. Maybe with Sonny.
But having seen Amber’s ploy, well, her and Jaydon’s ploy, she was stupefied. Amber drugged Ben, got him into his room, and made it look like they were screwing around together. Jaydon showing up… He must have arranged it all; that was clear from his comment about settling payments, plus his bossy demeanor. They’d teamed up to frame Ben for an abusive sex tape—and told no one.
“Looks like an accident, ma’am,” the taxi driver said from ahead.
Resisting Redemption Page 34