Fidelity by Aleatha Romig
The officer sighed. “Miss Collins, a statement is all we’re asking. A few minutes. We have a lot of your house staff to question. There’s no reason to make it more complicated.”
“Sir, if you have others to question, feel free to take their statements. Miss Peterson is waiting for Mr. Owen.”
“Fine,” he said, waving to the chairs. “Have a seat, Miss Peterson. You just lost your place in line.”
I took Jane’s hand and pulled her toward the chairs. “Are you all right?”
“I am,” she said as she sat beside me. “But Brantley, he’s heartbroken.”
I found it hard to believe anyone would be heartbroken over Alton, and then we all turned to the loud wailing. The crowd parted as Ralph Porter entered with his arm around Suzanna.
“And there she is, the newly crowned heir apparent.” I leaned toward Jane and whispered, “Fighting something fierce?”
“Yes, child. I ain’t never hear anyone give it as good as he, but Miss Suzy, she was riled up.”
“Honest, Jane, be honest. The police and court can make you break your nondisclosure. If you don’t, they can find you in contempt.”
“No, I don’t want to be in contempt of anything.”
“Then tell the truth.”
“What if they ask about other things?”
“What other things?” I asked.
“Like your momma. What if they ask?”
“Don’t volunteer, but answer whatever they ask. My momma is in New York. She had motive but not access.”
“Lots of peoples have motive, Miss Alex.” Her eyes went to Ralph and Suzanna. “Lots of people.”
MY HANDS SPLAYED upon the metal table. The cool surface helped me focus as Officer Emerson asked me about my threat and my feelings in general regarding Fitzgerald. Apparently, besides my verbal threat at Hamilton and Porter, there were witnesses who commented about the looks I’d given him yesterday, following the standoff at the hotel. I couldn’t recall any specific facial expressions. My concern had been keeping Charli safe.
“Did you believe he would cause her harm?”
“Enough that I supported her filing of the restraining order.”
“How far were you willing to go to keep him away from Miss Collins?”
There was no limit, but I didn’t say that. “She filed a restraining order, and my plan was to take her home to New York.”
“Yet you threatened to kill him, in front of multiple witnesses.”
“I did,” I agreed. “I threatened. I didn’t do it.” Not personally. My jaw clenched, knowing without a doubt that I was responsible. I was the one who’d given his name to Vincent. I was the one who’d signed his death warrant. I’d done that before his grotesque proposal. After that, I was willing to do it myself, but I didn’t. I’d found peace in knowing he’d already been condemned.
I wasn’t sorry that he was dead. I wouldn’t say that I was pleased, but I would say satisfied.
The questions continued with specifics about my whereabouts last night. Had I been with Charli at all times in the hospital? I hadn’t. I’d given her privacy to talk to her doctors. I’d bought flowers and gotten coffee. I’d paced the halls and talked to Deloris and Isaac. I’d called Oren and told him what happened with Spencer. I thought it was best he knew about the standoff and about Charli in the hospital so that he could break the news to Adelaide.
“My phone,” I volunteered.
“What about your phone?”
“I wasn’t with her every minute, but I did stay at the hospital. I made calls and received them. With the locator on my phone, the records will prove where I was.”
“And doctors, nurses, and cameras, can they all verify that you were there all night?”
“Yes.”
“What about your visit to Montague Manor?”
I tried to recall. It was only yesterday, but it seemed so much longer ago. “We weren’t there long. It was before the incident at the hotel. We went in and talked to the house manager, Jane Peterson. Then we went to Char—I mean, Alex’s room. And we left. I doubt we were there for more than fifteen minutes.”
“Did you have a drink? Did you sample Mr. Fitzgerald’s fine liquor?”
I straightened my neck. “It was early afternoon. I’m not opposed to daytime drinking, but no. It wasn’t offered and even if it had been, we were planning to fly home.”
“But you didn’t fly home?”
No asshole. If we had, I wouldn’t be here right now.
“You know why. Most of Savannah’s finest were with us at the hotel.”
“Thank you, Mr. Demetri. At this time we don’t have reason to keep you in Savannah.” Officer Emerson turned to Daryl. “Mr. Owen, you have Mr. Demetri’s contact information?”
“I do.”
“Mr. Demetri, will you be willing to return to Savannah if we have further questions?”
“If they can’t be handled over the phone, I will. I do have a business to run.”
“Thank you for delaying your departure. We’ll be in touch.”
I thanked Mr. Owen for coming to our aid again as we made our way into the large desk area of the station. Turning the corner, the vision across the room caused me to stop, mesmerized by the sight. Between Isaac and Jane sat the most beautiful redhead I’d ever seen. Her face was close to Jane’s as they talked. With Charli’s hair pulled back in a low ponytail her porcelain profile stood out, a stark contrast to the rich mahogany of Jane’s. In that moment I understood what people meant when they talked about pregnant women glowing.
Could everyone else see it?
How could they not?
Like a beacon of brilliance in the crowded police station, my Charli glimmered. She didn’t need designer gowns, jewels, or an exclusive luxurious surrounding. Simply being herself in slacks and a sweater, she was luminous.
It was then she turned and our eyes met. Instantaneously her lips curled upward and her cheeks rose. Her smile lit her entire expression and her golden eyes shone with the light of a million stars.
“Can we go?” she asked.
“Yes, princess, let’s go home.”
Jane sat straighter, narrowing her gaze my direction as she tilted her head. “Mr. Demetri, what did you just call her?”
“Princess, but in all honesty…” I reached for Charli’s hand. “…she’s my queen.”
Jane shook her head. “Child, you hold on to that man.”
“I don’t plan on letting him go.” Charli turned to Mr. Owen. “I know we’ve monopolized your time, but Jane has worked for Montague for the length of my entire life. She’s more than an employee—she’s part of my family. When Montague employees are hired, they are required to sign a nondisclosure agreement. The police have questions and she’s unsure of what she can and can’t say. I’ve told her that you will sit with her and help her during her statement.”
“Miss Peterson,” Mr. Owen said offering her his hand. “I’m Daryl Owen. I’d be happy to assist. It’s nice to meet you.”
The two shook.
“Thank you,” I said. “This time, we’re really leaving.”
“Go and congratulations.”
Charli’s cheeks filled with pink. I hadn’t mentioned our baby during my statement, only the hospital, but it was obvious she had.
Though Jane’s eyes questioned, Charli simply accepted his congratulations and kissed Jane on the cheek. “I hope you know that you’re always welcome in New York. Call me.”
“Child, you call me, and give your momma a big hug.”
“I will. I promise.”
A car ride later, along with Deloris, Isaac, Chelsea, and Clayton, and with my hand in the small of Charli’s back, we ascended the stairs of the private plane. At the top of the steps, I stopped and scanned the tarmac. The Georgia blue sky shone overhead as small tugs moved planes from here to there. Aircraft of varying sizes sat inside hangars. There were even a few poised and waiting for takeoff.
“Nox?” Charli asked.
Her gaze scanned the same scene. “Am I missing something?”
“Not one police car.”
She grinned. “Let’s leave before one shows up.”
CLAYTON PULLED THE black sedan up to the gate in front of the house in Rye.
“I’m nervous to tell them,” Charli said.
“We don’t have to, not yet. It can be our secret.”
“And Daryl Owen’s and Dr. Beck’s…”
“I’m confident those people are legally bound to keep secrets.”
“It was hard not to tell Chelsea.” Charli sighed. “I hope she likes the apartment.”
Deloris and Isaac stayed with her in the city to take her to Charli’s place on the Upper West Side.
“At least she’s willing to give it a chance. Tomorrow we’ll be back at our place. You’ll see her.”
The gate opened and Clayton moved forward as Charli nodded. “I’m ready for it to be just us again. And,” she said enthusiastically, “I can’t wait to see Pat. He was so great and then for the last week I fell off the map again.”
“You’ve talked to him.”
“I have,” she said as Clayton opened the door. “But I haven’t told him. I didn’t know, when we spoke.”
Cool wind whipped auburn wisps of Charli’s hair around her face as she pulled her coat tighter and stepped out.
“I-I…”
I pulled her to a stop and brushed my lips over hers, stilling her words. Pink from the wind colored her cheeks as we stood on the sidewalk. “I’ll follow your lead. I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Charli took a deep breath and nodded. At the same moment, the door opened wide.
“What are you two doing? Come in,” Silvia called.
For the first time that I could recall, my home welcomed me, truly welcomed me, from the flowers on the table to the sunlight shining in through the back windows. Impulsively, I kissed Silvia’s cheek. “I have a secret.”
Her eyes sprang wide only a second before Charli’s.
“Follow my lead?” Charli asked.
“Alexandria!” Adelaide’s voice came from the sitting room.
As Charli skirted away, Silvia reached for my arm. Narrowing her brown-eyed stare, she asked, “What’s gotten into you?”
I was stunned with the response that danced on my tongue, fighting to be said. I wanted to say: nothing has gotten into me; it was in Charli. But I didn’t. Instead, I shrugged and said, “I think it’s called happiness.”
“It’s not a secret, Lennox. It shows on your face. You might want to appear a little more grief-stricken when interviewed about Mr. Fitzgerald’s death.”
“The interview is over. They told me to go.”
“Come in here,” she said, leading the way. “There’s something you should see.”
Still wearing my coat, I followed Silvia. Adelaide was lying on the sofa, a blanket over her legs with Charli perched on the edge. Their eyes were open wide. I turned to see the television screen.
PERSON OF INTEREST DETAINED IN THE UNEXPLAINED DEATH OF ALTON FITZGERALD, CEO MONTAGUE CORPORATION.
“Who?” I asked.
“Oh my God,” Charli exclaimed.
Adelaide didn’t speak as she focused on the screen.
I searched the room. “Where’s my dad?”
“His office,” Silvia said.
“My office,” I corrected.
“Whatever.” Silvia joined Adelaide and Charli as the reporter continued to detail the case.
After making my way to the office, I turned the knob slowly, unsure what came next.
My education had paved the way for my knowledge of Demetri Enterprises. It was the foundation. The rest was experience. Though we rarely saw eye to eye, following my recovery after my last MMA fight—the one against Luca—I started spending my time at the corporate offices.
Oren thought it would be a better use of my time than the octagon.
Being the son of the CEO I expected a nice office with a view. That’s what I have today. It wasn’t what I found when I first started. It might as well have been the mailroom. I was taking classes at NYU. When I wasn’t there, my first job had been in the accounting department. They didn’t give me important tasks. It was menial and mind-numbing. Through the years I moved from department to department, not as an officer of the company but as an employee.
I hated some of the work. I hated Oren for not recognizing my ability and potential. I hated that he reminded me over and over that the Demetri on the letterhead was his name.
Today I had the perspective to see that my experiences gave me the ability to take over when he moved away. They not only helped me, but the core officials of Demetri knew me and were willing to continue working for the son, the one who’d done more than been born into his position.
During those early years, I could have asked for Oren’s advice. I could have talked to him about the tedious tasks that really weren’t truly menial. He could have explained his reasoning. There were so many things we could have done. We never did.
That all contributed to the uneasiness of asking for his advice now.
“Oren,” I said, entering the office.
His embrace as he stood lingered. He knew what was coming—what my debt to repay the favor of Fitzgerald’s death would entail.
I didn’t.
“He’s gone,” I said, speaking of Fitzgerald as I sat in the chair opposite him, no longer obsessed with who was on which side of the desk.
Oren leaned back. In his gaze was a resolution and sadness that ate at my gut.
Finally, I asked, “What happens now?”
Oren leaned forward. “How I wish you’d have asked that before.”
Before I asked Vincent for the favor. He didn’t need to say the last part.
Everything was different now.
It had been one thing to promise service and repayment when it was Charli that I was protecting. But now, with the baby on the way, I didn’t know what I’d promised. I didn’t know the time commitment or the duties. Instead of my confident self, I was that twenty-year-old working in accounting, crunching numbers that never seemed to end. The uncertainty terrified me. How would it affect Charli and our baby?
“It’s too late for that,” I said, trying to appear confident, maybe even knowledgeable.
“First,” Oren said, “we go to him, thank him for the service. I can call.”
“No. I’ll call. Give me his number.” I looked out the window. “What about his men?”
“A few more days.”
“Why? I have security. We don’t need them. Besides, Spencer is locked away in a prison hospital and Fitzgerald is…”
“He’s dead, Lennox. I never wanted to say this to you, but get used to the term.”
My stomach twisted. “How did you do it? I mean, being married and running Demetri, building the company, and having a kid, and this—debts and obligations to the Costellos? How did you do it?”
“I believe you were the one who said I failed at a few of those roles.”
Fuck!
My eyes blinked, lingering shut before opening. “Can it be done?”
“Son, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of the qualities I see in you. You’re a hard worker. You’re tenacious and determined. You’re stubborn and resolute in your beliefs. You love with your mother’s heart. Vincent is a fair man and so is Luca. I don’t know what they’ll ask or even when. It may be tonight or not for ten years. But above all they’re family. Your blood. They’ll take care of you.”
“You’ve never told me specifics of things you’ve done, things that were required of you.”
“And I never will,” he said. “I’ve done my best to keep you out of it. Angelina did too. But I’ve come to understand that the best intentions aren’t enough. Despite what you may be thinking or worried about, the Costellos are your family. They also run legitimate enterprises. They provide needed services. They’re respected. That??
“His phone number?”
“MOMMA? HOW ARE you?” I asked after Silvia stepped away.
Her chest rose and fell. “I’m alive.”
“Are you in pain?”
“Some, but it’s getting better.”
I rested my hand on her blanket-covered legs. “Can you take anything?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No. I’m an addict.”
“No, you aren’t. They did that to you.”
“No, sweetheart. Alton poisoned me or at least we think he did. I guess we’ll never know for sure, but I poisoned myself too. No more pain medicine. No more alcohol. I’m thinking clearer than I have in years and I like it.”
“But I don’t want you to hurt.”
“Tell that to the physical therapist who visits every day. He just left. That’s why I’m here on the sofa in front of the fire. The man is a tyrant, and instead of trying to help me, Oren and Silvia encourage him.”
We’d turned the volume down on the TV, but it was still playing. “I can’t believe they’ve arrested her. Do you think she really did it? The police asked us about Alton’s liquor. I think maybe he was poisoned.”
“Karma…” Momma said. There was no humor in her tone or her eyes, but the irony was there.
“I wondered if he could have done it to himself,” I said. “When the police first told us, that was my first thought. I mean, he was grasping at straws to save his kingdom and it was crumbling around him. Even Bryce.” I shook my head. “Momma, he’s lost it. Yesterday when Bryce pulled that stunt at the hotel, he proved how certifiably nuts he really is. He solidified public opinion of him. It will affect the murder case. Alton had to know that. He had to see it all dissolving around him.”
“I’m sorry,” Mother said, “for so many things. I have no excuse, except that I drank the Kool-Aid for so long that I believed it. I had to. I couldn’t face each day if I didn’t.”
I turned back to the television. The screen was filled with a picture of Suzanna. I recognized the sapphire-blue dress. The picture was from the engagement party only a week ago. “Damn, she was prancing around the manor like the queen bee, and now look at her. Did you know she fired Jane?”