Fidelity (Infidelity #5)

“Not without the shooter can we be sure. The shooter was a gun for hire. Not someone from around us. If it were, we’d know. The money trail has gone cold. The operation was well done—a professional. The entire operation. They knew your location. Their only mistake is that you’re still here.”

Oren stood. “Is that a threat?”

Vincent waved my father back to his seat. “No. It’s a relief. We’re still looking for the shooter. The bullshit on the news about the husband was genius.”

“Diversion,” I said.

“It was a good move.”

“Where do you think the money came from? Who put this plan into play?”

“I’m not sure about the money,” Luca answered. “As I said, the trail went cold. But that level of expertise can’t be found on Craigslist. Whoever hired the shooter knew who to contact, knew your schedule, and your vulnerability. My first area of concern is your inner circle. Do you walk through Central Park every day?”

I shook my head, my mind going through everyone on my personal security detail.

“Do you know anyone with those kinds of connections?” he asked.

I shrugged, mulling over my list of suspects. At one time I’d thought maybe it was Charli’s family, trying to scare her back to Savannah. It wasn’t only my concern, but one Deloris had mentioned. That was before we really knew Charli. Now that I do, I doubt that Alton Fitzgerald has those connections, and I was confident that Spencer wasn’t smart enough to pull it off.

And then I recalled advice Deloris had given me, telling me that around Severus Davis, a bulletproof vest was warranted. His expression when I appeared at the Senate Finance Committee had been one of surprise. It wasn’t enough proof, but it warranted investigation. “Let me give it some thought.”

Luca changed the subject. “This Chelsea Moore, was she seriously injured?”

“No broken bones, but her injuries aren’t all physical,” I replied.

“She’s a friend of your girlfriend, yet you’re responsible for her recent employment?”

“I’ve made mistakes.”

Vincent abruptly stood and extended his hand, first to Oren. “We will go now. My men are your men as long as you need them.”

Oren met him as we all stood. “Thank you.”

Vincent turned to me, extending his hand again. “My men need a name.”

“Vincent,” Oren began, “I think we’re working on it.”

With our hands still clasped, he said to Oren, “You’re not the only one who repays debts.” And back to me, “I’ve watched you. Despite the accomplishments you’ve achieved, the ones the world considers important…” His wide shoulders shrugged. “…those your mother surely thought important, college, business school, and even your fighting, I’ve not until tonight seen the man Angelina wanted you to be.” He nodded as a thin smile graced his thick lips. “She was proud of you, but I believe that she is even more proud now. Tonight, Lennox, you impressed me. Whatever you need, ask, call. Keeping your company scandal-free benefits us all. This woman, this girl, should not have been hurt. Give me a name.”

My gaze met Oren’s. If I did this, I knew what I was doing. I knew what it meant. I also knew I wanted Edward Spencer to pay.

“For a moment or for twenty years?” Deloris’s question came back.

Edward Spencer was in jail. Assuming the charges stuck, he would suffer for years to come. Did I want him to suffer for only a moment? Removing him from the equation wouldn’t be difficult while he was out on bail. We all knew that was coming.

Then again, was he the only one I wanted to pay?

Charli had argued that her devil was more evil than mine. Perhaps she’d been partially right—if Oren were my only devil, but he wasn’t. Mine was an entire family. Maybe it was time for the showdown.





A DAY LATER, I was pacing the living room of the hotel suite. Outside the open draperies and stories below, Savannah bustled. Even though it was November, the tourists continued to walk the cobblestone streets and browse the shops. As a child I’d never understood the fascination. Now after traveling and living elsewhere, I did. Compared to New York, the Georgia air was balmy and the historical heritage that I’d taken for granted gave visitors days of sightseeing opportunities.

There were even Christmas decorations beginning to line the streets and sparkle in windows.

The new phone in my hand vibrated with the text I’d been waiting for.



Deloris: “TWO O’CLOCK AT THE SAVANNAH-CHATHAM POLICE DEPARTMENT. YOU’RE MEETING WITH DETECTIVE PAMELA MEANS. DARYL OWEN WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AND CHELSEA.”



I exhaled. I’d prefer Nox by my side, but legal counsel would be best. Other than having Mr. Owen beside me, I planned to appear the na?ve heiress until the time was right to show my hand.