Deception (Infidelity #3)

Even wine had lost its appeal. The only thing keeping me going was hoping that soon I’d figure out a way to make my father’s codicil go into effect. It was the first thing I thought about when I woke and the last before I went to sleep.

Alton claimed that my behavior was so unusual that he didn’t want to leave me home alone. He told me to travel with him. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I was any help. Most of the time I didn’t attend his dinners with investors or clients. The new medication Dr. Beck had given me to prevent the migraines had me too out of sorts.

Today was the first time in months that he’d left town without me. He would only be gone for the day, but I’d hoped to meet briefly with Stephen.

Though I hadn’t been happy about the Chelsea thing, Alton said it had helped in weakening the prosecutor’s case against Bryce. The last conversation I’d overheard was that Montague Manor was going to settle the civil lawsuit with Melissa’s parents. According to the attorneys at Montague, it was the respectful thing to do, in light of her disappearance.

From what I’d observed, Chelsea was getting better at fitting in with Bryce’s friends. There was something almost familiar about the way she now dressed and spoke. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she was worlds away from the young lady I’d met during Alexandria’s first year of college.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald? Are you still there?”

“Yes, Natalie,” I said, concentrating on the phone call. “I’m just… disappointed. Do you have a number where I can reach Stephen? He was such a great help to me.”

“No, ma’am,” Natalie said. “Mr. Porter is available this afternoon at two-thirty. Will that work for you?”

I sighed once again. That would mean not only getting dressed, but also showering. “Yes, tell Ralph that I believe I can make it.”

“Wonderful. Mr. Porter will see you then.”

I disconnected the call and stood, bracing myself on the arm of the sofa.

Dr. Beck had run a few tests, one he called a metals test. The results took months, not days. I didn’t care what he did, as long as he figured out what was happening. I hadn’t had another excruciating migraine since the one he’d witnessed, but I knew things weren’t right.

I dialed Jane’s number, and like the reliable person she was, she answered on the first ring.

An hour later, with her help, I was presentable and walking out the door.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald,” Jane said. “Brantley’s with Mr. Fitzgerald. Are you sure you can drive yourself?” Her big dark eyes begged me to say no.

“Nonsense. I’ve been driving myself around for years. I can do it today.”

“Ma’am, I need to go to town. I can drive you. My errand won’t be long.”

I shook my head. The shower had helped me feel better. “I’m not a child. Just because Mr. Fitzgerald likes to be driven doesn’t mean that I do.”

She nodded. “Yes. Could you call me…?”

“I’ll be home before dinner. Don’t you worry. Is the car out front?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I couldn’t understand what had happened to Stephen and why he’d left his internship so abruptly. By the time I reached Hamilton and Porter, my hands were back to trembling. The ostentatious office, established largely through the exorbitant billings of corporations and families like the Montagues and Fitzgeralds, was regally positioned in a historic district in downtown Savannah. It made for a beautifully constructed building with ornate craftsmanship but one terrible for parking. As I’d searched and searched for a space along the street, my nerves stretched beyond their already frayed state.

The autumn sun shone with new intensity, keeping the Georgia temperature pleasant while continuing its assault on my eyes.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald,” Natalie greeted as I entered the main lobby and she looked up at the opening of the glass front door. “Are you all right?” she added with obvious concern as she rushed around her large reception desk toward me.

I steadied myself on a nearby chair my fingers sinking into the fabric. I stood taller, feigning the strength I wanted to possess as the room around me tilted. The polished oak floor was a fast-moving river, flowing beneath my precarious footing. I pulled my hand back. The furnishings were liquid and the walls alive. Rationally, I knew that wasn’t true, but their movement both fascinated and terrified me as I took off my sunglasses and blinked away the illusion.

Only seconds later, the wild carousel I’d been riding slowed, the music softening as Natalie’s words finally held meaning. “Yes, Natalie. I’m fine. Is Ralph ready to see me?”

I took another step, cautious to avoid the raging torrents.

“Yes, may I help you?”

I narrowed my gaze. “Help me? I’m perfectly capable of walking to Ralph’s office.”

“Yes, ma’am. Ice water?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, checking the river below my feet again. Was it icy or warm? Thankfully, rocks created a path that kept me dry.

When I looked up from my steps, Natalie’s eyes were narrowed.

“Sure, Natalie, ice water.” My answer seemed to bring her some relief. Maybe she’d been wondering the same thing too.

The office seemed uncharacteristically quiet as we rode the old elevator to the second floor. I breathed a sigh of relief as the iron scissor gate, which she manually pulled shut, stopped the flowing floor.

Isn’t there usually someone else who mans the antique elevator?

Ralph stood as I entered his office. It was exactly the same as it had always been. No liquid floors or moving chairs. Quickly, Natalie closed the door and left Ralph and me alone.

After shaking hands, I sat on the edge of the chair facing his desk. It didn’t seem that long ago that I’d done the same thing, demanding to see my father’s will. In reality, that had been nearly two months ago.

“Adelaide, you’re looking well.”

“Thank you, Ralph,” I replied. “Please tell me about Stephen.”

“Stephen?” he asked with a questionable inflection.

“The intern from Savannah Law. The young man you had help me.”

Ralph shook his head. “Help you? I don’t understand. The last time you were in here, I helped you.” He laughed. “You know, we used to utilize interns, but found it was more problem than it was worth. As you can only imagine, we have confidential information within our walls…”

My stomach knotted as I stared at Ralph’s features. His lips moved like a movie out of sync, the sound of his words reaching me after the movement of his mouth. It was as if everything he said was delayed in a time continuum. Natalie entered, handing me a stemmed glass with water and just as quickly exited, leaving us alone.

“As I told you weeks ago…” he continued, “…I’m not able to share the documents of your father’s will with you.”

I moved my gaze beyond his face to his desk and tried to concentrate. “Ralph, we settled this. I was here. I’ve been here multiple times. My name is on the ledger for my father’s documents. I’ve seen them. I’ve seen the will and the codicil.”

His brow furrowed. “Adelaide, can I get you something stronger than that water? Maybe something to settle your nerves… like whiskey? I know…” he said triumphantly, “…I have wine. A nice bottle of Montague Private Collection. It was a Christmas gift last year.”

“I don’t want wine. I have an entire cellar of Montague wine. I’m Adelaide Montague.” I stood as my volume rose.

Ralph came around his desk and reached for my hand, his lowered tone of voice no doubt attempting to pacify me. “Laide, it’s all right. I know who you are.”

“Of course you do! Get the ledger. Get the papers.” I pulled my hand away. “I know all about it. I’ve reread Article XII. Why are you looking at me as if I’m crazy?”

“You’re getting yourself agitated.”

“No,” I said convincingly. “I’m not getting myself anything. I want to see the ledger for my father’s papers, for his last will and testament.”

“All right. Have a seat. Let me pull it up on my computer.”

I sat back down as my heart beat in time with the keys of his computer, too fast, as he clicked and searched for the file.