Fidelity (Infidelity #5)

“Edward’s total disregard of Alex as nothing more than a step on his climb to American nobility was only surpassed by his brutality aimed at Melissa and then Chelsea. Do you believe that after their marriage Alex would have been exempt?”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I recalled discolored patches on Adelaide’s porcelain skin. I recalled her countless excuses—clumsiness and medications. I remembered threatening her ass of a husband and her begging for his reprieve. If Edward Spencer were anything like his father—yes, Adelaide had shared that secret with me too—then I knew that Alexandria wouldn’t have been exempt.

She went on. “How would that have affected Lennox… and Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

I knew how it would. It would have devastated them, just as it had me. Lennox had already lost one love in his life. I’d done my part to give him another. Would I have been able to sit back and watch her taken from him? Watch her be abused from afar? Had Deloris authorized something that I wouldn’t have, given the opportunity?

Love.

I could categorize Melissa’s death… this murder… as done for love. There were three people I loved: Angelina, Lennox, and Adelaide. Melissa’s death helped two of those people.

I couldn’t argue with her logic.

“Lennox can never know.”

“I agree.”

“Will you lie to him?”

“As I said, I’ve never lied to him, to either of you. With him, for him, I can omit some information. Will I be the only one who’s done that?”

“Mrs. Witt, tread lightly.”

“I’ll take that as your answer.”

“You should. You said the last time we spoke about Melissa that he asked you to take care of her?”

“No. He said he wanted the problem gone. She was the cause of the problem. I helped her be gone. After listening to the demeaning and demanding way Spencer spoke to Alex on a telephone call, he said he wanted Spencer to suffer. I told him I was thinking about a solution. I never gave him the entire story.”

“Two birds. One stone,” I said.

“Yes, sir,” Deloris confirmed. “We’ll never mention this?”

“One more thing. The charges, will they stick? Will my son get his wish?”

“Will he suffer?”

“That’s what I’m asking,” I said.

“I’m most certain of it.”

Why did most certain fail to pacify me? “My son will never take the fall for this.”

“That goes without saying.”

“You have a plan B?”

“I always do.”

I exhaled. She was good.

“Tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“And this conversation never happened.”

“What conversation?” she asked. “Good night.”

Efficient and deadly. It seemed that Lennox did know how to pick them.

I removed the battery on the disposable phone. The house was quiet as I slipped through the rooms and hallways until I reached the kitchen door, the one that went out onto the pool deck. A cold chill ran through me as I stepped outside onto the concrete. One slip from my fingers and the phone fell to the hard pavement. A misstep of my shoe and my heel smashed the plastic to dust.

I scooped the remains into the palm of my hand and eased back into the dark kitchen. Opening the large cabinet that housed the trash and recycling, I dumped the plastic shreds into the recyclables. Even monsters can help save the planet.





MY EYES BLINKED, staying closed longer and longer with each passing moment. The mug of warm tea teetered precariously in my grasp as I fought the impending sleep. Even the constant beep of Momma’s monitors had become a lullaby, the rhythm lulling me to a dream state.

My mind was too full to sleep and too troubled to want to be awake. I couldn’t stop thinking about Melissa Summers and Chelsea and even myself. How close had Chelsea and I come to being Bryce’s victims? When did Melissa die? Had her body been at Carmichael Hall while Chelsea had been there? If I’d gone there Saturday morning, would he have shown her to me? Would she be another example of his power as striking Chelsea had been?

My skin prickled and stomach twisted with the possibilities.

Then there was Nox. I wanted him to get back to me. I needed him. I needed to rely upon someone besides myself.

Lastly, my momma.

The room where we were had all the essentials of a hospital room but encased in luxury. I’d never before been in the master suite of this house. Once I realized the room we were in, I did my best to suppress the images Nox had described to me of finding Jocelyn. This was the room where she’d died, where he’d found her, and yet it was the room where my mother was sleeping.

I chose to use the word sleeping, doing as Oren had said and concentrating on the positive.