Deception by Aleatha Romig
The thought turned my stomach. “Have you spoken to her?”
“Yes, a couple of times. She understands that the plan didn’t go as we’d hoped.”
“No shit!” I huffed and walked the length of my downtown office, stopping just before the large windows and turning back around. “Is she… all right?”
“All employees are given a card, a number to call in case of mistreatment.”
My mind went to Charli, the day she thought she was an employee, the day I’d frightened her more than I realized. “All employees?”
“Yes,” Deloris replied.
“Did Karen Flores give a card to Charli?”
“She did. The first morning I met with Alex, I told her to call me, not Karen.”
I wanted to know. I needed to know. “Did she…?”
The sides of Deloris’s lips moved downward in a scowl. “Lennox, please don’t. I would have told you if she had. I don’t want to know why you’re even asking. The phone call is only supposed to be made if the employee feels that she is in danger with the client. I realize it was all a setup with Alex, but I’d like to think that I know you, and I’m getting to know Alex well enough to say she has never felt endangered in your presence. Tell me that’s the case.”
“It’s just that some of my…”
Her hand went up. “Too much information. No. Alex never called the number. I’ve given Chelsea the same option, to call me, if she’s unsure about calling her handler, a woman with Infidelity in California. Chelsea hasn’t called either number.”
I blew out a long breath as I sat behind my desk. “This is bad enough. If she ends up hurt in any way, Charli will be… I can’t even come up with a word. I believe irate is a vast understatement.”
“I wish I could say for certain that Chelsea is unharmed. I’ve only spoken with her — it’s too much of a risk to see her. I do know that it’s taken her a while to come to terms with the entire agreement.”
“Then why?” I asked. “I don’t understand. Tell her to call the number. Get out.”
“It’s not that simple. It comes down to dollars and cents—mostly dollars. Since signing with Infidelity, besides the ten thousand we gave her for agreeing to our plan in the first place, the one to be placed with Severus Davis, she’s earned twenty-five thousand from Infidelity. That’s thirty-five thousand dollars.”
“She’s Charli’s best friend. Surely the money isn’t that important.”
“Alex was out of Chelsea’s league. If they hadn’t been roommates, they probably never would have met. It just so happened that they hit it off, but yes, the money is that important. Chelsea attended Stanford for one year on scholarship. After that, she transferred to a state school. She’s the first person in her family to graduate from college. You met her sister?”
I nodded, remembering the hospital room in Palo Alto.
“She graduated high school over a year ago and has been working at a store in a local mall. Chelsea now has the money to send her to college. You can only imagine what Chelsea’s mother thinks of her daughter’s new income.”
Her mother. Strange, loud woman.
“But does Mrs. Moore know what Chelsea is doing for that income?”
“No,” Deloris replied. “No one can know. It’s the way it works. Spencer got her a job at Montague Corporation. It’s the perfect cover for why she’s in Savannah.”
“What about Edward’s family and friends?”
“As I said, she’s integrating. According to Chelsea, the most difficult part has been facing Alex’s mother. Apparently the two never hit it off. She said she’d always had the feeling Alex’s mother didn’t like her and since she showed up with Mr. Spencer, supposedly having had a secret affair for years behind Alex’s back, Mrs. Fitzgerald has been less than pleasant.”
“I can’t say as though I blame her.”
Deloris shrugged. “Chelsea is doing all she can to make this work. The last time we spoke she said she only has forty-nine and a half weeks to go. The young lady is a trouper. I don’t see this ending sooner than the length of the agreement. Not without further scandal and to be honest, Edward Spencer can’t afford more scandal. He’s been called in for questioning on Melissa Summer’s disappearance twice.”
“What about Melissa’s client?” I asked.
“He had an airtight alibi for the night she was assaulted. From everything I’ve seen and accessed, he isn’t a suspect in her disappearance.”
“Are there any other suspects?”
“No one who’s been questioned.”
I leaned back, pushing my chair to recline slightly. “What if they have reason to do more than suspect Spencer? What if they have enough to make a case?”
“It’s my understanding that Chelsea is his new alibi. He was in California the week Melissa disappeared.”
“Didn’t Charli say that Spencer called her the same day we all arrived? That he said he was on his way there?”
Deloris pulled up a file on her iPad. “She didn’t tell me that. But you’re right: he called her. His number was on her phone. Remember I told you that I deduced that Alex was going to California because other than Isaac, you, and me, all her other calls came from California, including the one from Edward Spencer. I was able to confirm his location with his travel documents. He was in California—he flew into San Francisco on the day before we all traveled out there.”
I shook my head. “Maybe I had that wrong. Too many fucked-up things since then.”
“Tell her, Lennox. I can pull up an article from a Savannah gossip blog. You can say I showed it to you. Just tell her,” Deloris implored.
“It’s not going away, is it?”
“No. And Chelsea has resigned herself to that fact. She won’t tell anyone that it was me who got her involved in Infidelity. Remember, the company doesn’t really exist.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “Fuck.”
I PULLED MY suit jacket closed, latching the button as I stepped from the car. I wasn’t sure if the chill was from the weather or the thought of my impending conversation with Charli.
Without a doubt, autumn was setting its claws into the Northeast. The breeze blowing between the buildings, especially now that the sun had set, contained more than a mild nip. October was almost here, and in New York it wouldn’t be long before the snow began to flurry.
As traffic continued to pass, I noticed the small trees bordered by iron fences along the street. They grew in perfect squares of ground surrounded by sidewalk. Even under the streetlights, they were bright with color. Orange and yellow leaves blew in the cold wind as brown ones chased one another in cyclones that danced upon the pavement.
“Seven o’clock?” Isaac asked as he closed the car door behind me.
“Yes. Tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Another few steps and the glass door opened.
“It’s getting colder every night, sir.”
One side of my face rose in a lopsided grin. There was something comforting in the predictability of my doorman. “Yes, Hudson, it is.”
“Miss Collins hasn’t returned. But I do expect her soon.”
My steps stuttered. “What? I thought she was home from class hours ago.”
“Yes, sir, she was. She left about an hour ago and asked me to let you know that she didn’t plan to be gone long.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and swiped the screen. One text message. How had I not seen it?
Charli: “RUNNING WITH PATRICK. WILL BE HOME SOON.”
Instinctively I looked back out the windows only to see my own image. The sky was dark, creating a mirror instead of a portal to the world beyond the glass. Dark and cold. The muscles in my neck tightened.
“Was she alone?” I asked Hudson.
“No, Mr. Clayton was with her. I don’t think he appreciates Miss Collins’s affinity for healthy living.”
I smiled at his observation. “Thank you, Hudson.”
“Yes, sir. Have
As the elevator moved upward, I tapped on Charli’s GPS app. Another tap and a tiny map appeared with a moving blue dot. It was ridiculous how much comfort I found in that simple pearl necklace. I could even tap another icon and see that her heart rate was slightly elevated.
Charli didn’t usually run in the evenings, but as I walked toward our apartment, the thought of her returning and being in need of a shower had my mind imagining all sorts of possibilities.
A succulent aroma met me at the door. I wasn’t sure how much I paid Lana, but the woman needed a raise. No wonder Charli was running. The meals that Lana prepared had become more elaborate since I was no longer eating alone. Consuming them as frequently as we did would require more exercise or soon, a new, bigger-sized wardrobe.
I tossed my keys on the table near the door and flipped the switches to bring the apartment to life. As I did, the lights of the city disappeared and the windows reflected the interior. It wasn’t often that I came home to an empty apartment. Though Charli had been living with me for less than two months, I’d grown accustomed to her presence. From her clothes in the closet to her cosmetics in the bathroom, she was part of our home.
I’d never imagined that I’d ever again have someone in my life and never dreamed that another would acclimate to my lifestyle so well. It was as if we belonged together, in every sense of the word. Even minutes without her in our home left a part of me void, creating a space that only she could fill.
I never intended for this to happen. Or imagined that one simple business trip to Del Mar could forever change my life. I chuckled as I took off my suit jacket and went to the kitchen to check out Lana’s culinary creation. Who would have thought that a meeting I hadn’t even wanted to attend would have brought someone as wonderful as Charli to my life?
“Nox?” Her voice rang through the apartment, accentuated by the sound of the front door closing.
“In the kitchen,” I yelled as I waited for her to enter.
Catching her in my arms, I spun her around. She looked too fucking good and too carefree to tell her about Chelsea. Not yet.
“Stop!” Charli said with a giggle. “I’m gross and need a shower before we eat.”
“You had me worried.” I smoothed back the unruly locks of her auburn hair, strands that had gone rogue during her run. “I’m not used to getting home and finding you gone.”
“I sent you a text.”
“I know, but I like you here.”
“I tried to get back here first. Pat had a rough day and wanted to run…” Her eyes sparkled, forehead shimmered with perspiration, and muscles quivered from her exertion in the cool weather.
I couldn’t not voice my assessment. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”
Charli’s face bowed, burrowing into my chest. “I’m disgusting. Give me ten minutes.”
“No.”
“No?” Her eyes opened wide.
“I just turned our dinner to warm. And well, with you in my arms, I’m feeling a little dirty myself.” I arched my brows as I emphasized the word dirty.
“Oh.” The gold of her eyes shimmered. “In that case. I have some good news.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” Charli said, taking my hand in hers. “I’ve got an absurdly large shower off my room. Since you don’t really have a room anymore, thus no en-suite bath, I’ll let you share mine. No sense wasting water.”
“Beautiful and a conservationist. How’d I get so lucky?”
“I seem to recall a ridiculous pickup line by a pool…”
LIGHT ASSAULTED MY eyes as the beige walls of our bedroom suite swayed, the ornate woodwork no longer present in straight lines but in undulating waves as it bowed against the contrasting color. Slamming my eyes shut, I held tight to the mattress as if it were a life raft capable of jettisoning me into the ocean’s depths. Surely that made the most sense. Instead of being on a bed in an old Southern manor, I was being tossed at sea on a succession of whitecaps.
The rocky waters had my stomach reeling and head pounding.
A migraine.
Scrunching my lids tighter, I forced all light from my eyes. The movement caused my face to ache. It didn’t matter. I knew from experience that even a smidgen of light could be all it took to send my body into a full-blown revolt. The way I felt, I wasn’t sure I could swim to the shore or find the attached bathroom. Everything was too far away. If only I could sink into my pillows as if they were clouds made of fluff, not hard, fiber-filled units.
With attention to my breathing, I exhaled twice for every inhale. Slowly the racing in my veins slowed and my body relaxed just a bit. I tried to listen to the room around me, praying that I was alone.
I hadn’t had a headache this bad in years, not since I’d started the preventive medication that I took religiously. I fought to recall the night before. The day before. Anything. It was a fog covered in dark smoke. My memory was a cool, damp spring morning and visibility was zero. I knew the terrain. I’d navigated it for what seemed like forever, but I couldn’t find a recognizable marker.
I slowly reached for the bed around me and patted it softly as I confirmed that I was indeed alone.
The breathing had helped.
Inch by inch, I moved toward the edge of the mattress, slowly as to not incite a stampede of hooves that waited upon the plain for the first rock to fall.
With my feet nearing the floor, I attempted to rise, to sit upward.
How could a woman who weighed less than one hundred and twenty pounds have a head that easily exceeded a ton?
It was so heavy, too heavy.
I bit my bottom lip as I pushed off from the bed.
Success.
I was sitting.
Slowly, I tried to open my eyes. Only one at first, allowing just the faintest of light to penetrate my darkened world.
Glaring.
Draperies that covered nearly two walls of our suite were opened, allowing the Georgia sun entrance as it streamed inside, blanketing the room in an assault of illumination.
Morning? Afternoon?
I had no reference other than I was certain it wasn’t night.
My phone and a clock were only a few feet away, but I knew that focusing on the little numbers would be that first rock, the one to start the avalanche, the one to incite the stampede through my body. Like Mufasa from the Lion King, I would certainly perish.
With my head held securely in my hands and my elbows on my knees, I worked to clear the fog. I recalled taking my medicine yesterday and the day before. I understood how it worked. Missing doses lessened its effect. The medication took nearly a month to reach its effective dose. I would never miss one, not even one.
Last night Alton and I had been to a dinner out near the coast. The eloquent seafood restaurant was refined and catered to Georgia’s elite. It had been our first time out in public with Bryce and Chelsea. Not only had she accompanied him to Evanston for another deposition, they’d made more than a few appearances around town. The locals were beginning to talk. Though I knew it was only a matter of time before Alexandria heard the rumors, I couldn’t bring myself to be the one to tell her unless it was in person.
That was one of the topics I’d planned to discuss when I visited New York City. My plans had been foiled as I waited for Alton to leave on one of his trips. They normally occurred frequently, yet lately he’d stayed in town. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the Chelsea thing, but he’d cancelled his last trip. It was the week I’d hoped to visit Alexandria. Jane had called and asked if we could reschedule.
Two weeks later and I was still waiting for Alton to leave.
It had become the story of my life.
The other thing that had happened since Chelsea had arrived was that my husband had been overly attentive. I assumed it had to do with appearances. Nevertheless, I couldn’t manage a one-day trip even if I tried.
Through it all, I’d stayed true to my plan of trying to prove that Alton was somehow involved
It didn’t make sense.
Water was all I drank yesterday prior to dinnertime. I recalled Alton once again coming to our suite instead of staying downstairs, ever dutifully making us both before-dinner cocktails. Mine had been wine. My first glass of the day. And then in the limousine I had a second glass.
The restaurant was simply beautiful. Though she tried to hide it, Chelsea’s unease at being out of her element was glaringly obvious. If I didn’t hate the entire plan I may have felt a smidgen of pity for the poor girl. It appeared as though she was trying. It also made me wonder if none of Alexandria’s refinement had rubbed off on her during their years of living together.
How Chelsea was hired for this position was beyond me.
Looks. Sex.
Apparently she had a brain, but I’d yet to witness it. As the evening progressed, I got the feeling that even Bryce was losing patience with some of her uncouth ways. The looks that I saw exchanged between she and Bryce reinforced my belief that Alexandria should not be married to him.
Many wouldn’t recognize the warnings, but I’d lived with them for over twenty years. Chelsea’s trepidation was real. Even without the confirmation of physical bruising, I was most certain that Edward Bryce Carmichael Spencer was indeed his father’s son.
That was where the night began to fade away. Like a club illuminated by strobe lighting, there were flashes of memory. Nothing stood out. Nothing seemed out of place. The restaurant. Another drink on the veranda overlooking the ocean. A photo opportunity with the four of us. The limousine ride back to the manor. Waking in a shower of sunshine.
Hours were missing. There were large gaping holes.
Two glasses of wine before the restaurant and maybe two during dinner.
It was barely a luncheon’s worth of alcohol.
Maybe the memory loss had been caused by the onset of the migraine.