Chapter 11: Old Friends

––––––––

Melissa

Stuart paces the office, his fists clenched as hard as his jaw as he shouts into the phone. “Derek is not a fucking flight risk. He turned himself in for Chrissake. I can’t believe this bullshit.”

I’d spent a restless night at the condo, sleeping alone in Derek’s king sized bed, worrying, praying for his safety in Baltimore central lockup. Star was in the guest room with her daughter Camille. It was the first time we’d ever met, but she was demure. Shy and apologetic. Her daughter was beautiful.

Now I’m back at the office with Stuart, and the two of us are trying to think of any way to shorten Derek’s stay, to prevent this from going any further. I watch Stuart talking to Patrick.

“We need your ass here now.” Silence as he listens to his brother. “Because I can’t fucking keep my eye on everyone alone.”

My eyebrows rise. I can’t help wondering what might happen with these two in the same room and Derek gone. Bolt down the furniture.

Stuart ends the call and turns to me. “How you holding up? Need anything?”

Shaking my head, I look down at Derek’s desk. “I need him home.”

“We all need that¸” he says through an exhale.

Just then, Nikki scampers into the room. Her eyes are red as if she’s been crying, and she holds a brown envelope. I smile at her, glad she’s stuck around. Having to find and train a new assistant would not be ideal at the moment.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Her voice is high and quiet.

“It’s okay,” I say. “What do you need, hun?”

“I just wondered if Mr. Alexander... If Derek still needs me to mail these files for him.”

“What files?” Stuart growls and doesn’t make eye contact.

She’s flustered and holds them out. I notice the tremor in her hand. “Bennett? His old PI said it was for a case he handled. He said it should go to the police department in Maryland.”

“What the FUCK?” Stuart explodes at her, and her eyes widen suddenly before she drops the papers on Derek’s desk and runs out the door.

He’s right behind her. “You’re Bennett’s accomplice?”

I jump out of the chair and run after them. Nikki’s behind her desk, tears streaming from her eyes in black lines. “I don’t know what you mean!” She wails, but Stuart’s not stopping.

He rounds the desk and grabs her by the upper arms, shouting in her face. “How long have you been working with that fucker?”

“I don’t know!” She’s crying harder, her face an ugly red mask. “Two years? H-however long Mr... Derek’s used him!”

Stuart’s face is flushed, and I jump between them. “Hang on!” I shout. “Stuart, stop! Let her go!”

He shoves her back, and I catch her arms. “Nikki, what do you know about Robert Bennett?”

She’s shaking and grabbing fistfuls of tissues out of the box on her desk. “He’s a contract PI,” she sniffs, hands shaking as she wipes her face. “He does jobs for Derek here in town. Not as much in the last year, but—”

“Oh my god,” I exhale, leaning heavily against her desk. “He knew all our weaknesses. His accomplice was right under our nose and didn’t even know it.”

Stuart’s still fuming, but I can see he’s slowly getting on the same page as me. “You didn’t know what was in that envelope?”

Nikki’s white-blonde head shakes rapidly. “I never look in his files. Derek said they were confidential. I only type up the reports he specifically gives me.”

Going back to Derek’s office, I scoop up the sealed brown envelope and rip it open. Out drops a photograph and a pair of black lace panties. Digging inside, I pull out the letter that details who Star is, her connection to the murder of Sloan Reynolds, and the address to Derek’s condo in Princeton.

“God... freaking... Stuart!” I shout, and in less than a moment he’s back with me. “He knew Nikki would mail this without question. She only asked because of the arrest.”

Stuart picks up the letter and reads it briefly before glancing at the photograph and the panties. “Are those—?”

“Only one person can say for sure.” I pick up the black thong by an edge of lace and drop it back in the envelope. “It’s probably got both their DNA all over it.”

“A pleasant thought.”

“Tell me about it.” We exchange a glance, but it’s cut short by both the reality of what’s happening and the immediacy of what’s out front.

Nikki is crying at her desk, and I spin on my heel, heading for the reception area. When I get there, she’s packing her stuff.

“Nikki!” I round the corner and catch her hands. “Wait. Please.”

“I can’t stay another day here.” She shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. “It’s all spoiled. I’m nothing but a problem now.”

“It’s not true,” I urge, trying to find the words. “We need you right now, Nikki. It’s a crisis situation. We don’t have time to find a new receptionist.”

“No,” she sniffs, touching her face with a tissue. “I’m constantly fucking up everything. I’m a weakness just like you said.”

“Patrick will be here tomorrow. Won’t you at least wait and see him?”

Another sniff, and she considers what I’ve said.

“Patrick’s your friend,” I continue. “Why don’t you take off this afternoon, and come in Monday when he’s back.”

She blinks up at me, and I smile. Leaning forward, I give her a hug. “We need you Nik. You’re part of the team.”

“The weakest link,” she sniffs.

“Not true. You care about Derek, right?”

She nods but doesn’t answer. I watch her dab her eyes more.

“That’s what matters most. We’re all here for him now.” Smiling, I hold her hand. “Now you know to be extra vigilant. Anything unusual, run it past Stuart, okay?”

Her eyes flicker to the office where he remained behind. “I’d rather not,” she says quietly.

“Okay, then run it past Patrick. He’s your guy. Right?”

A wobbly breath and she nods. “Okay.”

Releasing her arms, I head back into the office where Stuart is. I’m not crying, and I’m not fainting. I’m ready to find a solution. My Macbook is on Derek’s desk now, and I stare at the screen thinking.

“What are we going to do?” I say.

He walks over to the bookshelf and pulls out a thick textbook. “We have to think like a lawyer. Our biggest problem is he confessed to the crime. We have to build a defense, find some precedent we can use...”

My mind immediately goes to a person I haven’t seen in years. “I’ve got this.” Sliding my finger across the touch pad, I log into my airline account. “I’m flying to Chicago.”

Stuart doesn’t even question. “I’ll see if there’s any way to sway the prosecution. I’ve been out of the game a while, but maybe I still know somebody in the Maryland PD.”

“Go for it. Patrick will be here tomorrow.” Looking up, I see Nikki preparing to leave. “Nikki! Would you set up the phones before you go? We’re closing the office for the rest of the day.”

She nods and circles her desk. Stuart’s lips tighten, and he narrows his eyes at me. “You should’ve let her quit.”

I’m flicking through flights trying to find the next one I can catch. “I don’t know what’s between you two, but you need to put it on hold until we get Derek back.”

“Her incompetence makes us vulnerable.”

My eyes flash to his. “Bennett won. He got what he wanted. Derek’s behind bars...” My throat tightens, and I have to pause as despair tries to choke me. Deep breaths. “We don’t have anything left to lose.”

Two more clicks, and I’ve booked a flight. Powering down my laptop, I dig my phone out of my bag to call my mom. Dex will need to stay with her a few days longer.

“Damn, I hate research,” Stuart mutters, flipping through the book I now see is a legal text.

“Your brother will be in the office Monday.” My eyebrows rise. “I thought you were headed to Maryland?”

He exhales a laugh. “Are you suggesting I pass the buck?”

“Two heads are better than one.”

“Travel safe.”

* * *

The law offices of Merritt, Hampton, and Donnelly are located on the thirty-first floor in an office building on Chicago’s East Loop. Stuart called his mother during my flight, and by the time I made it in last night, she’d sent a car to pick me up. I hadn’t seen Sylvia since Patrick and Elaine’s Christmas wedding in Montana, but she had only been back in the city a few days herself. We’d agreed to have dinner tomorrow night, and I crashed—after taking an unexpected call from Derek.

“What’s in Chicago?” his voice is warm, and hearing him, knowing where he is, I can hardly keep the tears away.

“Not what. Who,” I say with a sniff, working for control. “Elaine’s older brother Marcus. He’s one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the country.”

“That’s right. Elaine was supposed to be a lawyer when she grew up.”

“Edward was such a jerk about that. You’d think she said she wanted to be a stripper instead of a teacher.”

He laughs, and I close my eyes. “I miss you so much. Are you doing okay?”

“As well as can be expected, considering.” He pauses a moment, and I hear shouts behind him. “I’m not a fan of orange jumpsuits.”

“You’re much sexier in Gucci. Oh, god! I’m sorry.”

He exhales a laugh. “My level of sexiness isn’t a problem yet. I have my own cell, so for now—”

“How did you manage that?”

“A guy I did police training with is one of the guards. He pulled some strings.”

Slipping my fingers over my mouth, I inhale quietly. “I can’t stand thinking of you in jail. Baltimore is horrible.”

“It was the right thing to do. We couldn’t go on with this hanging over our heads.”

“I’m afraid for you.”

Quiet moments pass. “I’m a little worried myself,” he says. “I’d just gotten you back in my arms, and now...”

“Bennett is such a bastard. I want to kill him.”

“Hey, don’t say things like that on a police line.”

“And I can’t believe the judge refused to set bail. You’re not a flight risk.”

“He might not’ve made the wrong call.” His warm exhale feels so close. I hold the phone as if it’s his cheek. “I’m not sure I’ll get out of this one, and I’ve heard the French Riviera is beautiful year-round.”

“Don’t say that.” A tone sounds in our ears, and I know our time is ending. “We’re going to get you out.” I speak fast. “Stuart’s headed your way to meet with the prosecutor. I’m meeting Marc tomorrow, and Patrick will be in the Princeton office Monday—”

“I love you, babe.”

“I love you more.”

It’s our last words before we’re cut off. My head drops on my arms, and I can’t fight anymore. My shoulders shake, and I dissolve into tears.

* * *

The foot traffic is light on Michigan Avenue this morning. Lifting my chin, I let the warm sun shine on my face as I take a deep breath of sweet spring air. I’m glad Sylvia’s condo is close enough for me to walk. I need to think about what I’m going to say to Marcus. I’m ready to tell him everything, whatever it takes to save Derek. Nothing in my past is more important than getting him back home with his family.

I haven’t seen Marcus Merritt in almost ten years—before I graduated from college or even knew Sloan Reynolds. I’m not sure how much Elaine keeps her brother in the loop on my life. When we were kids growing up together in Wilmington, our parents used to hint that Marcus and I might eventually get married. We dated off and on, but he was always a ladies’ man. And as much as I loved him dearly, I was always looking for someone “more mature.”

Pushing through the revolving glass doors, I shake my head. “Years ago and water under the bridge.”

I cross the grey marble foyer leading to the elevators. Stepping out on the thirty-first floor, I quickly scan the polished surfaces of the waiting room. The décor is very traditional. Dark, cherry-wood paneling, stained oak floors, and built in bookshelves surround me. It’s Sunday, so the office is closed. The receptionist’s desk sits empty.

Unsure what to do, I step across the luxurious waiting area. Wooden doors with glass panes lead to a small conference room. I’m just peeking through when I hear my name and turn.

Marcus is stunningly handsome as ever. He’s a bit darker than Elaine, with caramel-brown hair and hazel eyes. He’s dressed in grey slacks and a light blue dress shirt with a navy tie. At six foot, he’s so fit and polished, I can’t help a laugh.

“When did you start moonlighting at GQ?”

He smiles, revealing straight white teeth, before kissing my cheek. “And how is it possible you’re more beautiful now than you were in college?”

I hadn’t packed for this trip, so I’d had to stick with my dark skinny jeans and red tunic sweater. “Hmm, I think you’re winning this morning.”

“Come on,” he touches my elbow. I follow him through the opposite glass doors down a short wood-paneled hallway to a large, corner office.

“Nice place.” My eyes roam the arched built-in bookshelves lining the walls. The coffered ceiling and gold accents create a stunning space. “How do you ever get anything done in here? I’d be staring at the ceiling all day.”

He laughs, and the familiar sound comforts me. “Have a seat and tell me what I can do for you.”

“Thanks for meeting me on short notice. And on a Sunday.” He waves my thanks away, and I drop into a tan leather chair across from him. “I don’t know how much you know about my life now.”

He leans back and props his foot over his knee. “Seems my little sister said you were happily engaged with a baby on the way.” His eyes scan my body. “I guess that last bit is old news. You look amazing.”

I smile. “Dex is a year old now.”

“He was in a picture she sent me of Lane. Cute kid. He has your eyes.”

“Thanks. They play together pretty regularly. We’re all back in Wilmington now.”

“And your fiancé is the Alexander my new brother-in-law works with?”

“Right. Derek.”

He only smiles briefly. “I can’t say I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Reynolds.”

My bottom lip catches in my teeth, but I hesitate. “He wasn’t the man I thought he was.”

“You were too young when you married him.”

I’m unsure whether to charge right into our situation or continue catching up. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I decide to ask one more question I actually want to know the answer to.

“How come you never got married? What’s wrong with these Chicago girls, anyway?”

He grins and sits forward, leaning his forearms on his desk. “You know marriage isn’t my thing. You’re the only girl I might’ve considered settling down with.”

“Oh, you might’ve.”

“It did take me a while to get over you.” His eyes twinkle, and I can’t resist.

“No, it didn’t. You were dating Jules Ashton the next week.”

“Was I?” His brow lines, and I can’t help remembering the attractive playboy Marcus has always been. It seems not much has changed. “Regardless, when we were together, I was all yours.”

“We had a lot of fun,” I say with a nod. “But I did have to go to college.”

“Whose idea was that again?”

“College? Or educating women in general?”

He laughs loudly. “God, you always made me laugh. I miss that.”

I give his enormous office another glance. “Say what you will. I know you want a little future lawyer running around this place. Pulling all your important papers off your desk and drooling on your furniture.”

“Yes. You know me so well.”

“I do know you well. That’s why I’m here, Marcus.” Our eyes meet, and I’m ready to get to the reason for my visit. “I need you. It’s a matter of life and death, and you’re the best lawyer I know.”

He’s immediately serious. “Are you in trouble?”

“Not me.” Scooting forward in the chair, I glance over my shoulder. “What do we need to do for this to be confidential? Attorney-client privilege and all?”

“You agree to hire me as your attorney.”

“I’d like to hire you as Derek’s attorney.”

His jaw moves, and I watch as he thinks, as his glance moves to my left hand. “You’re not married?”

“We were planning our wedding next month. I’d love it if you could be there.”

A brief smile, and he’s back to business. “I’m not going to write down anything you say. Whatever you tell me could be used by the prosecution against us.”

Fear clenches my stomach. “This is so serious, Marc.”

“What happened?”

Closing my eyes, I go all the way back, knowing what this is going to do to my old friend to hear the truth. “After Sloan and I were married a few years, his parents died, and we had to move back to Baltimore.”

He nods, watching me closely.

“Our marriage grew more and more distant. Months would pass and I’d never see him. We stopped having...” I took a deep breath, swallowing my embarrassment. “We stopped sleeping together.”

Silence. I forge on.

“I thought maybe it was his age? I didn’t know what to think until I found that first receipt.” I pause, cringing inside. “Then I found the next one and the next one.” My chin drops, and I tell him everything. “He had escorts all over the country, apartments where some of them stayed. I was so humiliated.”

I didn’t dare glance up at Marc’s face. If I saw anything in his eyes—rage, vengeance—I’d never finish.

“I moved to the other side of his mansion. I wouldn’t see him. I insisted on marriage counseling, but really, I wanted a divorce. I wanted out.” Taking a deep breath, I go for it. “Until the night he decided he was tired of my bullshit. He wanted to sleep with his wife. I fought him... I hated him. But I wasn’t strong enough. He beat me and almost raped me.”

Marcus is out of his chair and pacing his office. “What the fuck...” His voice is a low growl. “What the fucking fuck, Melissa? Why didn’t I know about this?”

Looking up at him now, I can’t stop my emotions. I’m not sobbing, but warm tears line my cheeks. “I begged Elaine not to tell anyone.”

His face is pained, hazel eyes intense. “Why? Why wouldn’t you let her tell me? I would’ve buried that fucker.”

Shaking my head. “I was so ashamed.” He hands me a cloth handkerchief, and I touch my face with it. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I just wanted to be rid of him.”

“So you left him?”

“We were divorced, and Derek and I got together.” The memory of that floods my chest with so much warmth, I actually smile through my tears. “He was so good for me. I love him so much.”

Marcus is in front of me now, leaning against his desk. “I like him already.”

“That brings us to now.” My brow lines as I study the double Ms monogrammed on his handkerchief. “He was working on a case last year, and he crossed paths with Sloan again. He was convinced Sloan was coming for me.”

“Abusers never give up on their victims.” Marcus’s voice is matter of fact. “You belonged to him, regardless of whether you’d moved on.”

Nodding, I continue. “Derek and Patrick and this woman... Star, an escort—they were going to set a trap to catch him, to put him away for good.”

The room is tense. I can tell Marcus is waiting for me to say the worst. I don’t prolong his anticipation.

“Derek killed Sloan. He said Sloan was strangling Star, that she was about to die, and he killed him.”

“With a gun?” Marc’s voice is quiet.

“With his bare hands.”

The tick of his desk clock is the only noise in the room for one... two... three... seconds.

“I don’t blame him,” he says. “I’d have shot him in the face.”

Blinking up at him, I know the desperation is clear in my expression. “He’s been arrested for first-degree murder. He’s in jail in Baltimore, and we’ve got to get him out.”

My friend’s jaw clenches as he rounds the desk. “What’s his bail?”

“The judge wouldn’t set bail. Said he was a flight risk.”

“Fuck yeah, he’s a flight risk. If it were me, I’d have your pretty ass and my little boy with me on the first flight to Nice. One-way tickets.”

“The French Riviera,” I say with a smile. “I’ve always been a bit partial to Monaco.”

“Not sure of their extradition policy, princess. France is safer.” He gives me a tense smile. A pause, then he starts moving quickly. “I need you to send me everything, and I mean everything you have about this case, everything you have on Sloan and his past, his crimes, all the information about Derek’s past, any military honors he’s received, recognitions...”

“As soon as I get back to Princeton.” I’m out of my chair and heading to the door. He’s right behind me. “I’ll leave today.”

“Melissa?” I look up at him and he touches my chin. Marcus has such a beautiful smile. “It’s not going to be easy, but I’ll do everything I can. I want to be at your wedding next month.”

“I knew I could count on you.”

A kiss on the cheek, and I’m gone.