Fidelity

  “Is that why you haven’t turned off the car?” I asked.

  “Ma’am, I have my orders.”

  For a moment I wondered who’d given Clayton his orders, and then, I didn’t care. In the last two hours Nox and his team had done everything I’d needed. My momma was stable, though I didn’t know what had happened. She was out of Magnolia Woods and in New York with a doctor and Oren Demetri—another connection that was still a mystery. Chelsea and I were away from Bryce and hopefully on our way to New York.

  Outside the vehicle, Deloris was now beside Nox and Isaac as two officers continued to speak with them. There was a third man standing back from the discussion. By his lanyard I believed he too was with the police. He was the only one not in uniform. Every now and then, the officer who seemed to be doing most of the talking would point toward our car.

  My breathing hitched as that same officer walked beside Nox and came closer to the SUV. Pushing a button, Clayton lowered the front-seat passenger’s window.

  “Alex and Chelsea,” Nox said, coming close to the open window. “This officer needs to speak with you.”

  My heart beat faster as I deciphered his unspoken meaning. He’d called me Alex. That meant the policemen knew who I was. I nodded toward Chelsea. “Remember what I said.”

  The door opened and we stepped outside. My party dress was little covering for the cooled night breeze. Immediately I wrapped my arms around myself as goose bumps prickled my skin.

  “Mrs. Spencer?” the officer asked.

  “No, Officer, I’m Miss Collins, Alexandria Collins.”

  Under the tall tarmac lights, he eyed me up and down. “You appear to be dressed for a wedding.”

  “For a party, actually.” My teeth chattered. “I was told you wanted to speak to me. I’m assuming it wasn’t about my attire.”

  “No, ma’am. We need to speak to you about your husband.”

  “Officer, I’m not married.”

  “She’s not—”

  “Ma’am,” the officer interrupted both of us as Nox and I spoke simultaneously. “He’s very upset, demanding that you…” He turned toward Chelsea. “…both of you come to the police station.”

  It was then that he took a step back and scanned Chelsea. “Ma’am, are you Miss Chelsea Moore?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened to you? Did someone harm you?”

  “Do you have the authority to stop these two women from leaving Savannah?” Deloris asked.

  “Not at this time, but the court can demand they return. Wouldn’t it be easier to stay?”

  It would, but I didn’t want to. I turned to Nox. “I want to leave. If I have to come back, I’ll come back.”

  “Mrs. Spencer,” the officer said, “we’ll need your contact information.”

  I wasn’t willing to argue my name any longer, but unfortunately, I didn’t know my own contact information. I wasn’t sure where we were going and the only phone in my handbag was the one Alton gave me. I didn’t know the number. I turned toward Deloris. “Can you please provide him a way to reach both of us?”

  Deloris nodded.

  He spoke again. “It wouldn’t take long, if you would reconsider. Your husband has been very insistent.”

  “Officer, for the last time, I didn’t marry Edward Spencer. Besides, the last I heard, the last I witnessed, he was being arrested. How can he possibly be making demands of the Savannah-Chatham police?”

  “It’s that there is press. Your father—”

  I stood taller. “Officer…” I looked to the pin above his badge. “…Michaels, the man you’re referring to is my stepfather, not my father. I’m not married and even if I were, I’m an adult and capable of deciding where I will and won’t go. Right now, since you obviously don’t have the legal ability to retain me, I plan to accompany my friends onto that plane.” I motioned toward the waiting craft. “I appreciate your position, but I am leaving Savannah of my own free will and will voluntarily return when I must.”

  Nox moved behind me. “If there isn’t anything else…”

  “We’re paying the pilots, and this discussion is costing us by the minute,” Deloris added.

  Nox’s hand settled in the small of my back as he led me toward the plane’s steps.

  It was as my thin heel touched the second stair that the gentleman with the lanyard who’d stayed back came forward. “Mr. Demetri?”

  We both stilled.

  “Yes?” Nox replied.

  “Sir, Mrs. Spencer—or Miss Collins, whoever you are, ma’am—is right. We cannot stop her or Miss Moore from leaving; however, you may not leave.”

  “What?”

  “Sir, there has just been a warrant signed by the judge.” He took a step back. “Come down the stairs peacefully.”

  “On what grounds?” Deloris asked.

  “Mr. Lennox Demetri, you are under arrest.”

  “No!” I reached for Nox’s hand and turned toward the police. “For what? He’s innocent.” As I spoke I looked at the hand in my grasp. In the car I’d noticed that Nox’s knuckles were swollen and lacerated. I doubted that it happened with the one punch he’d given Alton, but nevertheless, it could be used as evidence.

  “Princess,” Nox said, “go with Deloris. There’s someone who needs you.”

  My momma.

  The thought tore at my heart. She was stable. That was what the text said. I couldn’t… I wouldn’t make this decision again.

  My head moved from side to side as tears filled my eyes. “I need you.” Turning toward the police. “Please, I’m Alexandria Montague Collins. Surely that means something. I’ll personally vouch for this man. He’s innocent of whatever charges my stepfather wants to drum up.”

  The man with the lanyard removed the gun from his holster. “Mr. Demetri, step down from the plane.”

  Nox pulled me close until our lips touched. The connection created a peaceful stillness within the eye of a hurricane. All around us the perilous winds blew, destroying lives with their vicious lies and betrayal, yet with just the two of us, the world was right. As our lips separated, he said, “Go.”

  “No. I won’t leave without you. Not again.”

  We both took a step down.

  As soon as Nox’s shoes hit the tarmac, the officer who’d been speaking with him earlier came forward with a pair of handcuffs. The pressure in my chest was suffocating. In the course of a little over two hours, I’d watched two of the men in my life be handcuffed and taken away.

  “Mr. Demetri,” Officer Michaels began, “you have the right…”

  I reached for Nox’s arm. “No! Please!”

  It was Deloris who grabbed my hand as the Miranda rights continued. “Alex, come up the stairs now.”

  I’d been strong too long. I didn’t want to be strong any longer. My knees buckled and chest heaved. “No!”

  All three officers escorted Nox toward one of the waiting cars as Isaac reached for my hands. “Ma’am, I’ll stay here in Savannah with him. We’ll pay the bond and have him in New York before you wake.”

  My head continued to shake. I didn’t doubt Isaac or Deloris. I just didn’t want to leave Nox. “I’m a Montague. I should stay. I can help him.”

  Isaac spoke softly, “Ma’am, go to your mother.”

  “Alex,” Deloris said, “we need to get you out of here. Don’t you see? This is all a ploy to get you to stay.”

  I shook my head and swallowed my tears. “But…”

  It was then my gaze met Nox’s. As he ducked his head to enter the backseat of one of the cars, we connected again. Though his lips never moved, I heard his plea: “trust me, princess. I’ll come back to you.”

  I gave into the pressure. The world lost its tilt. Lost its color. Lost its sound. A sob escaped my throat as I reached for the railing. My bones were no longer rigid. I sank to the stair. The movie we’d watched was over. The blue lights disappeared as the police cars drove away.

  “Oh my God. They took him!” My words w
ere barely audible between sobs.

  The rest of my party was functioning—moving and talking—as my face fell to my knees.

  “Isaac,” Deloris said, “take the SUV. Go.” She took charge, giving orders and typing on her phone. Chelsea was beside me and Clayton was coming closer. Yet my life was incomplete.

  “Ma’am,” Isaac asked, kneeling before me. “Do you need help to the plane?”

  I reached again for his hand as my tear-covered face met his. “Please stay with him as close as you can. I don’t trust my stepfather. He’s up to something. What charge? Find out. Oh, God, Isaac, please.” I looked at Deloris. “Do you know?”

  She pursed her lips. “At this moment, I can’t venture to guess.”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was a hint of unusual concern in her voice.

  My legs wobbled as I forced myself to stand, to move, to reach the top of the steps. This time I was leading the parade. In seconds Deloris, Clayton, Chelsea, and I were all in the cabin. The luxurious interior meant nothing as I rushed toward a window. Placing the palm of my hand against the glass I searched for the police cars, for my love, for my life, but everything was gone.

  “Alex, you need to sit.”

  I hadn’t noticed that the door had been shut or that everyone else was seated.

  “How?” I asked Deloris. “How can you leave him? You’re supposed to take care of him!”

  She shook her head. “I thought they were after you, trying to make you stay. When they arrived, I regretted sending you the news video. Shock would have been your best reaction.” She leaned forward. “I also tried to convince them that you’re not married.” She paused. “You aren’t, are you?”

  “No!”

  “It didn’t occur to me that the entire scenario was a ploy.”

  “A ploy?”

  “It was a diversion,” Clayton said, the two of them seated across from Chelsea and me. “They were keeping us here until the warrant for Mr. Demetri was signed.”

  I closed my eyes and fell back against the seat. “How does he always win?”

  Deloris reached for my knee. “The war isn’t over.”

  MY GAZE MET Charli’s only briefly as the policeman guided me into the backseat of his car. Guided was a kind way to say that he pushed. That wasn’t my concern. Connecting with the golden-eyed love of my life and making sure she was safely out of Savannah was.

  “Go!” I silently willed. “Get out of here. Do it before they suck you back in!” Though the words had never left my lips, I sent them with all the urgency I could muster.

  Closing my eyes, I recounted the devastation in her expression and anguish in her tone.

  Fuck!

  We were so fucking close. Two more minutes and the plane would have been moving. We would have been gone.

  Then it hit me. The police knew they couldn’t keep Charli or Chelsea here. It was all a sham, a stall.

  My shoulders ached at the pressure on my wrists as the police car bounced along the Savannah roads.

  I willed my muscles to relax, to not fight the handcuffs. I’d have them off soon enough.

  My mind filled with everything I knew and all we’d learned. If the two officers in the front seat spoke, I wasn’t listening.

  The memory that fought to consume my thoughts was of Charli. I’d had her in my grasp, feeling her warmth next to me, inhaling the scent of her perfume, and holding her hand in mine. I exhaled, pushing those thoughts away as the car bounced along Savannah’s roads. I needed to concentrate. What was the charge?

  I assumed it was battery. I’d punched Alton Fitzgerald. I expected more of a fight from him at the estate. That wasn’t the way he played. He’d never make it in an octagon. His technique was slimy and backhanded. Give us a little taste of freedom and pull it all away.

  I reached for my own fingers and rubbed. My hand was obviously injured, not severely, but my knuckles were scraped. It could be used as evidence. More than likely the manor had surveillance footage of me punching Fitzgerald. I wouldn’t and couldn’t deny the altercation. The guards, I could. Without proof, there was no way I’d admit to hitting them.

  After what seemed like forever, the police car pulled into the back of the police station. I deduced our location by the chain-link fence and multitude of police cars as well as the crowd of people near the front. Thankfully, I didn’t appear to be the main attraction.

  No one outside the fence seemed to care as the two officers escorted me up a ramp and through back doors. As a new officer booked me, I took in the scene. My location was relatively isolated, yet I could hear the buzz.

  Melissa Summers.

  Edward Spencer.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked as they took my final photograph.

  “You’ll learn more as soon as the detective comes to question you.”

  I tilted my head toward the large room of desks filled with people. “I mean over there. It seems like a busy Saturday night.”

  The officer led me by the arm. “It’s not like we never have murders. We do.” He leaned closer. “But this is a big deal. The FBI is here. It’s a shit show.”

  The handcuffs were gone. They’d come off during the booking. Unceremoniously, the officer deposited me in a small room with a metal table and four chairs. “The detective from the scene will be in here in a few minutes to ask you some questions.”

  “I refuse to answer any questions until my attorney arrives.” I knew it was the right move; nevertheless, I wondered when that would be. Demetri Enterprises had a slew of attorneys, none of whom were in Savannah, Georgia.

  “Mr. Demetri, we’ve been informed that your counsel is on his way.”

  Truly all I wanted was to hear the charge, make a plea, and pay my bail. “After he arrives, when can I see the judge? I have places to go.”

  “I wouldn’t hold your breath. More than likely your case won’t be heard until morning. It’s already after midnight, the detective needs to question you, and as you saw, this place is hopping with a case much bigger than yours.” And then he was gone, behind the solid door. I’d watched enough crime shows to guess the large mirrored surface was really a two-way window. Did anyone ever not know that?

  After midnight. Really?

  I couldn’t even remember what time it was when we drove away from Montague Manor. The whole night was a blur of scenes like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit. I looked to my watch, but it was gone. The policeman had taken that and most of my other personal belongings during the booking. Though they hadn’t taken it, I didn’t have my phone either. The last time I had it, I’d handed it to Charli.

  I didn’t want to make a call—I was confident Deloris was on this. What I wanted was to open the necklace app, to see Charli’s blue dot flying toward New York. If I could be reassured that she’d done as I wanted, I could concentrate on the shitstorm around me.

  Just then, the door opened and I stood, stunned and surprised that I recognized the first man to enter. I’d spoken with him only a few days before.

  “Mr. Demetri.”

  I extended my hand. “Mr. Crawford. I didn’t expect you.”

  He tilted his head to the left. Beside him was a tall man with dark skin and intelligent eyes. “This is Daryl Owen.”

  We shook hands.

  “As you may recall,” Stephen Crawford said, “I’m a law student, not an attorney, yet my new internship is with the practice of Preston, Madden, and Owen here in Savannah. When I received the call from your assistant, Mrs. Witt, I called Mr. Owen, one of the partners. He agreed to take your case.”

  “Mr. Demetri,” Mr. Owen said.

  “Lennox,” I corrected. “Thank you, Mr. Owen. I appreciate your coming out at this time of night.”

  The two men sat across from me at a small metal table.

  “I’ll be frank,” Mr. Owen said. “Before the detective comes in, you should know that aggravated battery, in the state of Georgia, faces between one and twenty years in prison and a f
ine up to $100,000. No one has claimed that you used a firearm, which is in your favor.”

  “Aggravated battery? I hadn’t been told my charge.”

  “They read you your rights?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and jotted down a few notes. “The detective is going to ask where you were this evening at approximately nine-thirty?”

  “I’m not sure of the exact time, but I was at Montague Manor this evening. There was a big party.”

  “Were you on the guest list?”

  I smirked. “Most certainly, I was not.”

  “Yet you were on private property?”

  “I was.”

  “Lennox,” Mr. Owen said, “we need you to be one hundred percent honest with us.”

  “I am.”

  “Why were you at Montague Manor?”

  “To rescue my girlfriend.”

  “Your girlfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  Mr. Owen and Stephen exchanged looks.

  “Would your girlfriend be Mrs. Alexandria Spencer?”

  The muscles in my neck tightened. “No. My girlfriend is Miss Alexandria Collins.”

  Stephen opened a folder he’d placed on the table and retrieved a paper. Sliding it across the table, he said, “We wanted you to see this before the detective came in. Would this be the signature of your girlfriend?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek as I read. Starting at the top, it read:

  State of Georgia, County of Chatham. To any Clergy or any other person authorized to solemnize: You are hereby authorized and permitted to join the persons named below in matrimony.

  Edward Bryce Carmichael Spencer and Alexandria Charles Montague Collins according to the Constitution and Laws of this State, and for doing so this shall be your sufficient…

  I scanned down.

  I hereby Certify, That Edward Bryce Carmichael Spencer and Alexandria Charles Montague Collins were joined together in matrimony on this 6th day of November…

  My stomach knotted as I read yesterday’s date. Wait, it was now after midnight. That made it not yesterday, but two days ago.

  The officiant named was Keith Townsend. It contained the court’s seal, and under his signature were both Edward’s and Charli’s signatures.