Deception by Aleatha Romig
“Suffocating?” I offered the appropriate word to complete her sentence as I stood, my bones now solidly capable of supporting my weight.
“Unnecessary,” Nox corrected.
Slowly I spun, taking in the office that had been designed for me. I ran my hand over the back of the chaise, the fibers of the plush material bending to the pressure of my touch. I caught the brown-eyed smile of the picture still lying upon the floor. She was young and beautiful and had a life of promise ahead, and now she was dead.
My neck and shoulders straightened. “Answers, Nox. I need answers or I’m leaving.”
Nox took a step toward me. My glare stalled his movement, but not his declaration. “You can’t leave. I won’t allow it.”
“What the fuck are going to do? Are you going to lock me in this apartment? Ground me? Tie me up in your bed? That was what you said before. Well, too bad. You can’t.”
His lips formed a straight line that in only seconds grew increasingly thin. Without speaking he was telling me he could do that and more. Suddenly that thought was no longer erotic but frightening.
My eyes roamed, unable to endure the intensity of Nox’s stare. Deloris had gathered the pages of Bryce’s letter, using a tissue to pick them from the floor.
“I’ll assume you both handled these pages?” she asked.
“Yes,” Nox answered.
“I’ll have them dusted.”
“Why?” I asked. “Bryce signed the letter.”
Daggers launched from the icy blueness of Nox’s eyes. “Bryce? Edward Spencer? I thought you said your family?”
“What?”
He stepped closer, his chest nearing mine, cologne again clouding my thoughts as I fought to project a sense of calm I truly didn’t feel.
“You said you thought it was your family trying to scare you. Edward Spencer isn’t your family.” He emphasized the last word.
“My family’s complicated. He claims to be speaking for my mother. The point is, there’s no reason to dust anything. We know who it came from.”
My gaze moved away from Nox, back to Deloris. She was silent as she read the letter, my letter, the one addressed to me.
“Privacy. Is that what I give up if I stay here?”
“If?” Nox repeated.
“Lennox, you should read this,” Deloris spoke from the other side of the room.
I slapped my hands against my thighs. “Sure, everyone fucking read my letter. Let’s get Isaac and Jerrod in here. I know, call Lana. Is there anyone else?” I pursed my lips waiting for a response. Finally, I went on. “All I want is answers; instead, I’m getting more and more questions.”
Deloris turned toward me. “There’s a plethora of accusations in this letter. Don’t you agree that they could be best addressed if Lennox knew what he was supposed to answer?”
“I’ve already asked the most important one.”
Nox’s eyes narrowed in a silent warning, telling me to avoid the subject that loomed around us, the figurative elephant prancing around the room, its trunk raised like a trumpet alarming each of us of its path of destruction. A momentary tinge of apprehension infiltrated my righteous anger as the question resurfaced—did Nox kill Jocelyn?
His posture straightened as he tightened his jaw and lifted his hand toward Deloris. When she hesitated, he said, “I’ve already touched it. What difference does it make if I handle it again?”
She shook her head and pulled another tissue from the box. Handing that first to Nox, she then passed him the letter.
I shook my head dismissively and reached for my backpack. My overnight bag was already packed.
As I stepped toward the doorway, Nox’s command stilled my footsteps.
“Stop.”
Images of Alton raced through my mind as I spun Nox’s direction. “I’m not a child. If you won’t talk to me, I’m not staying here.”
“You’re not going to that apartment. The security isn’t complete.”
I rolled my eyes as I let out a long sigh. “You’re putting security in my apartment?”
“Chelsea’s,” he corrected. “And of course.”
Shaking my head, I replied, “You’re unbelievable. Did you think to ask me? Ask Chelsea? I mean, she interviewed for that job. If she gets the one in DC she won’t even be here that much.”
“Alex…”
I lifted my hand to silence Deloris. I was tired of listening to them answer my questions in circles. “Call Jerrod, or I will. I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re—”
“Yes, I am.”
“Jerrod works for me,” Nox declared.
Fuck him! This was Alton all over again.
My neck straightened in indignation. “Then I’ll take a cab. You want a say in this? That’s your choice. This time it’s my number in your phone and the ball’s in your court. If you’re ever ready to talk to me, to be honest with me, call. Otherwise…” I took a deep breath, debating the end of my sentence. “…otherwise, don’t.”
“Charli, do not leave this apartment.”
His order hung in the air, the final word. Nevertheless, I walked into the bedroom seeing the vibrator upon the bed. Its presence mocked me. Ignoring it and the plans that I’d had for this evening, I found my overnight case.
How had our date gone from amazing to shit in record time? The ring of my phone encouraged me forward, moving me toward the living room, where earlier—when this evening had hope—I’d dropped my handbag.
The screen read JERROD.
“Hello,” I said after pushing the green icon.
“Ma’am, I’ll have the car out front in five minutes.”
I wasn’t sure if it had been Nox or Deloris who’d contacted him, but at least I wouldn’t need to get a cab.
A tear slid down my cheek as I closed my eyes. “Thank you, Jerrod. I’ll be there.”
My destination options came in rapid succession. I could go to my and Chelsea’s apartment. If I did, I was not only disobeying Nox by leaving, but also by going where he told me specifically not to go. Then again, until he could be honest with me, I didn’t need to listen to his directives. I could go to Patrick and Cy’s apartment. Surely it was safe. Or I could do as Bryce’s note implored and travel back to Savannah.
With a heavy heart, I stifled a ragged breath and turned back toward the glacial-blue eyes. Though Nox watched my every move, he didn’t speak. Silently, I turned toward the door and exited our apartment.
FUCK!
I pulled my phone from my pocket as the apartment door closed. After two pushes and one ring, Jerrod answered.
“I want to know where you take her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Keep both me and Deloris informed. I want round-the-clock surveillance.”
“Yes, sir. You’ll be constantly informed. She won’t make a move that you don’t know about.”
Damn, that sounded wrong. I wasn’t trying to suffocate Charli. That was her word. I was assuring her safety. Why couldn’t she see that?
“Safety. That’s my number-one objective.”
“Yes, sir,” Jerrod replied.
I disconnected the call and looked back at Deloris. She was sitting on the sofa hammering out a text message. Briefly her eyes met mine and then with a slight shake of her head, her attention was drawn back to the screen of her phone. My teeth ached with the pressure as I held my jaws together—tighter and tighter. If I didn’t find another outlet, surely my teeth would shatter.
As soon as she hit send, Deloris sighed and looked up.
I waited.
The silence continued.
Finally, I spoke. “Tell me how in the fuck someone broke in here.”
Her head moved from side to side. “I can’t.”
What the hell kind of answer was that?
Then, as if delayed, her words hit hard, drying my mouth and weakening my knees as I fell to the sofa. A swoosh escaped my lips as if I’d truly been struck, the impact causing the air to exit my lungs.
“I can’t,” I said again, confessing my rare inability.
“No, I can’t,” she said, misinterpreting my statement as a question for her. “It doesn’t make sense. You know my security is top-notch. I don’t believe Edward Spencer or anyone connected with the Montagues was responsible for this note. They never would’ve been able to trick the system.”
I stared in disbelief. That wasn’t what I’d meant by I can’t. I’d meant that I couldn’t tell Charli the truth about Jo. Not yet. I hadn’t verbalized it since it happened, not in a concise statement, nor in a long, breathy rambling statement. Until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t even looked at the online reports. I didn’t think I could say it aloud.
Though Jo’s death was almost five years ago, if I closed my eyes it seemed like yesterday. It seemed like today. Adrenaline flooded my system as perspiration moistened my palms. I didn’t want to think about it. The anger. The blood. But it was there, in the forefront of my mind.
It had been the day that wouldn’t end. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it was still today.
It was like that movie Groundhog Day. I couldn’t think of a worse hell.
“Lennox, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
I nodded, unsure if the awful images in my mind would come bubbling out if I spoke.
“You read the accusations?” she asked.
I nodded again. The list came together in my mind: murder, abuse, hiding evidence, coercion of a judge, illegal activities including prostitution. Then it hit me. “The letter blamed me for Melissa Summer’s disappearance. Who would have any knowledge of that? And prostitution? That has to be referring to Infidelity.” I thought some more. “The writer called Charli Alexandria. It seems as though only her family uses that name for her.”
Deloris looked my way, her shoulders stiff as she contemplated. “It’s her name. Anyone who knows the Montagues of Savannah would refer to her that way. That isn’t enough for me to immediately jump to her family. I believe that’s the direction the writer wanted us to look. It’s the direction the person assumed would have the most impact on Alex.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “I shouldn’t have let her go.”
Both Deloris’s and my phone buzzed.
Text message.
Jerrod: “I JUST DROPPED MISS COLLINS AT 1214 FIFTH AVENUE. SHE SAID SHE WOULD SPEND THE NIGHT.”
“That’s Patrick’s building,” I volunteered. “At least she isn’t alone.”
Deloris nodded as she replied to the text message. When she was done, she said, “I’m glad she didn’t go to the apartment.”
“Get the surveillance set up there tomorrow. I want it complete. If she decides to move there, I need to know she’s safe.”
Unable to take the pressure anymore, I stood with an exasperated breath. “Fuck. This isn’t the way tonight was supposed to go.” I ran my palms over my stubbly cheeks. I should be balls deep in Charli right now, not sitting here with Deloris trying to put together pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit.
“Did he walk her to Patrick’s apartment?” I asked.
“I assume he drove her to the building.”
Panic flooded my system. “I’ve been there before. He lives on the forty-sixth floor. Someone… anyone could—”
Deloris raised a finger as she put her phone to her ear. After a moment, she lowered the phone, disconnected the first call, and scrolled the screen. “I have Patrick’s number—”
“You tried Charli and she didn’t answer?”
What the fuck?
“She could have the ringer off.”
I paced back and forth, waiting for Patrick to answer. The anticipation set my already overwrought nerves into overdrive. Each one zinged to life until my skin felt stretched—too small for my bones.
“Mr. Richardson, my name is Deloris Witt. I work for Lennox Demetri.” Pause. “Yes, I see.” Pause. “Thank you. Please let her know that we wanted to ensure her safe arrival to your apartment.” Pause. “Thank you, Mr. Richardson. Goodbye.”
My lungs filled to capacity. “She’s there?”
“Yes. She wasn’t with him at that moment, but she’s there, in the apartment.”
“Wasn’t with him?”
“He said she was changing clothes. Lennox, she’s safe.”
I tried not to think about the black beaded dress she was no longer wearing or the gorgeous body that was now clad in something no doubt more comfortable. I didn’t want to imagine her across town, instead of glistening with perspiration beneath me.
“She was right.”
I turned incredulously at Deloris’s assessment. “Right? About leaving?”
“Not about leaving, but about stopping her. You couldn’t stop her.” Deloris shrugged. “I’m not doubting your ability, but legally, you can’t make her stay here.”
“I could if her Infidelity contract were real.”
“If it were…” she said, contemplating her response, “…you could appeal to her commitment to that agreement, but you couldn’t use it as justification in a court of law. Don’t forget, Infidelity doesn’t exist.”
For probably the first time, I wanted it to exist. I wanted Alexandria Collins’s signature beside mine. I wanted the right to demand her return. When I didn’t respond, Deloris spoke again.
“The most important one?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Alex said that though she’d read an entire laundry list of accusations claiming everything from abuse and extortion to murder, that she only asked you about the most important one.”
“Jo.” My one-word answer was all I could say.
“And you answered her. You told her you weren’t responsible.”
I shook my head. “I told her the truth. Didn’t you see how fucking frightened she was when you entered her office?”
“Lennox,” her tone softened. “Call her. Talk to her. Don’t let your guilt over Jocelyn infect what you and Alex have.”
I paced the length of the living room and stared out at the lights of New York City. From high above, the streets were filled with taillights, creating red ribbons of moving and stationary cars. Even late into the evening, traffic flowed in fits and starts.
“I can’t talk about it. I can’t think about it.” I spun back around. “If I do, if I try, it’s like living it all over again.” I shook my head. “Fuck. Make sure Charli’s safe. We both know the truth. The best way to ensure Charli’s safety is to keep her away from me.”
“Lennox.”
I hated it. But now that I’d said it, I knew I was right. “Find out who wrote that letter. Find out who knows my secrets.”
“Whomever that person is needs to be stopped.”
“First, I want to know why.” I took a deep breath and tried to look at the letter from a different angle. Not from my perspective, but from the writer’s. “What was the objective?”
“It specifically told Alex to get away from you, to leave you.”
“So it worked. Who besides Edward Spencer would benefit from that? Who besides him would want us separated?”
“What do you know about her family?” Deloris asked.
“I know she speaks regularly to her mother. I know the calls exasperate her. I know that her stepfather had something to do with taking away her trust fund. And from the business world, I know he’s an arrogant ass who, like Oren, believes deals are made with greased palms over Cognac.”
I turned back to the lights. If I took a step back, the window became a colorful mirror reflecting my own image. Instead, I stepped closer. The man in that reflection disgusted me. Charli deserved to be with someone who was above reproach, above the accusations in that letter. I didn’t want to believe that person was the slimebag Spencer.
My gut twisted as I turned again.
“How is there a connection between Edward Spencer and Melissa Summers?”
Deloris’s eyes met mine. “I tried
“I fucking want to know now.”
“He’s the grad student.”
What the fuck?
“How had I not put that together?”
“Because you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want to associate Alex with someone like Edward Spencer.”
“Where’s the letter?”
“Lennox, even with a tissue, fingerprints can be smudged. It’s better not to touch it.”
“What did it say about Melissa?”
“Just a minute.”
Deloris walked into the kitchen. I waited as cupboards opened and closed. When she returned, she had three large plastic bags, the kind that zipped closed at the top. With care and precision, she gently inserted each page into its own bag. Finding the right page, she handed it to me. My eyes searched for the passage.
Alexandria, I’m scared to death.
I also think he’s behind framing me with Melissa. He could be the reason she’s missing. By getting rid of her, he can remove me from your life.
Lennox is dangerous.
I’m begging you. Your mother is begging you.
“He’s saying I’m dangerous but he’s the one who raped and beat Melissa Summers?” My mind spun. “If Melissa dated him…” My stomach turned with the revelation. “…couldn’t she have told him about Infidelity?”
“She would’ve had opportunity. But by the letter of the agreement, she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone.”
“Obviously, she didn’t follow the agreement to the letter because if she had, she wouldn’t have dated someone other than her client.” I lifted my brow. “Do you still doubt that this was written by Spencer?”
Deloris pursed her lips. “I don’t think he, the Montagues, nor the Fitzgeralds have the ability to circumvent my security. Did he write it? I can’t answer that. Did he put it in here? I can answer that unequivocally no. I need to take these and dust them first. I should also dust the apartment… if we haven’t already done too much damage.”
“You want me to leave?”
“I turned off the stove. Your dinner is a tad overcooked.”
I turned in a small circle, taking in the apartment. I’d lived here for years and it’d been fine. I was comfortable and content. Now, without Charli, it seemed empty and too quiet. She’d been gone for less than an hour and I missed… well, everything about her. I walked back to the bedroom to gather a few clothes.