Entrapment Page 8

  The next voice I heard momentarily stopped me in my tracks. I would have recognized it anywhere. Taking a breath, I barreled inside. The door bounced against the inside wall.

  “What—?”

  Quickly, Deloris turned my direction, pursed her lips and put her finger to her mouth.

  “Of course…” she said. I couldn’t remember what Charli had asked; I’d been too astonished to hear her voice.

  “I want to speak to her,” I whispered.

  Deloris shook her head as she asked, “Alex, can you repeat that? I think we have a bad connection.”

  Charli’s voice filled Deloris’s room. “Can you hear me now?”

  “Yes, can you tell me again what you said? Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine. I wanted you to know.”

  “Ch—”

  This time it was Deloris’s hand that stopped me as she thrust a note my direction.

  Don’t talk. She’s on speaker and she’s not alone.

  Who the fuck is with her? Is it her stepfather? Who and why? It’s two-fucking-thirty in the morning. Why isn’t she alone?

  Those were my unspoken questions as I pressed my lips together and listened.

  “How’s your mother?”

  I marveled at the calm in Deloris’s voice. It wasn’t mirrored by her body language. Standing in a robe, she was uncharacteristically rigid.

  “I-I don’t know yet,” Charli answered. “I want to go see her, but I need your help.”

  “My help? Of course. What do you want me to do?”

  “Go back to New York.”

  Fuck that!

  I spun like a caged lion as I silently pleaded to Deloris, hoping that telepathically she’d hear my rebuttal.

  “Alex, how will that help?”

  “Alt—my family—is concerned that if I leave the manor something could happen to me.”

  “You know that we’d never allow anything to happen.”

  “That’s the thing,” Charli said, “they’re afraid you’ll be the cause. I can’t see my mother until they’re assured that I won’t be taken, by you or Lennox.”

  Lennox. She did it again. Could the letter have been from her? Was this her way of letting us know that she was speaking under duress? The letter may not have been her, but the person on the phone definitely was. I didn’t only know her voice, but her sounds, moans, and pleas.

  I shook my head—so much for telepathic—as Deloris’s eyes widened, looking my direction.

  “Is my word enough that we’ve left or do they need more?” Deloris asked.

  “Um, I trust your word, but…” She paused. “…they would like proof. A flight manifest showing that you, Lennox, and Clayton have left Savannah.”

  “Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath as I turned away.

  “How can I reach you?”

  “You can’t.”

  “Excuse me?” Deloris asked.

  “I can’t use my phone right now, and I don’t have access to my email. You can send the flight manifest to altonfitzgerald at montaguecorp dot com.”

  “What about this number? Can I call you back on this number?”

  “No, this is my stepfather’s home office. He wouldn’t be pleased.”

  “I don’t fucking care…”

  “Deloris,” Charli said, “please tell me you’re alone or I’ll need to hang up.”

  “It’s the TV, Alex. I thought I’d muted it.” Deloris’s glare stopped anything else from escaping my lips.

  “Do you still want Lennox to follow your instructions in the letter you left for him at the gate?”

  “Letter?” She paused again. “Oh, yes. Please.”

  “All of your clothes or only the summer ones?”

  What? The letter had said only supplies for class.

  “Um,” she answered, “all, I suppose.”

  “Alex, you know all you have to do is—”

  “Deloris,” she interrupted. “I need to go, but first, I wanted to say thank you, to you and everyone. Please do as I ask. I need to see my mother and until you’re gone, I can’t. And tell…” Her voice bubbled with emotion, tearing at my heart. “…him that I’m sorry. This is the way it was always supposed to be, what I was supposed to do. I just didn’t know it. I didn’t understand. Now I do. We were never supposed to happen.”

  It took every ounce of my strength to stay quiet. I wanted to scream at the phone, at Charli, at whoever the fuck was with her. She wasn’t telling the truth. I knew more than her voice, moans, and pleas. I knew her heart. We were supposed to happen.

  Why the hell would I end up in Del Mar? Why the hell would I go to the large pool? It was fate and whatever shit she was being fed couldn’t stop that. It wouldn’t stop us.

  “Alex—” Deloris began.

  “Goodbye.”

  The hotel room filled with silence as we both stared at Deloris’s phone. The call was done.

  “What the fuck?” I asked.

  “She was obviously being coached. I just don’t know who was with her.”

  “Why did she call you?”

  “She didn’t say,” Deloris answered. “But at the least we confirmed that she didn’t write the letter.”

  “We never thought she did. What I want to know is how did the person who wrote it know about rules?”

  Deloris shrugged. “Would Alex have told someone?”

  I ran my hand through my hair, still moving, spinning in place. “I don’t know. She hasn’t had much contact with anyone but her mother and a woman named Jane.”

  “What about Chelsea?”

  “What about her?”

  “Would she know that? She was with Alex in Del Mar.”

  I couldn’t think or reason. “Maybe. What did she say before I got here?”

  “Not much. She said that she arrived to the manor safely, and that she’d dropped her phone. It wasn’t working right now.”

  “That’s fucking bullshit. She didn’t drop it. I mean it’s not on, but I don’t believe she dropped it.”

  Deloris shrugged. “Lennox, she obviously sounded… coerced.”

  “No shit. She also referred to me as Lennox in that conversation,” I said. “I think that means something.”

  “It’s your name.”

  “It’s not what she calls me. She’s giving us clues, clues that whoever is with her wouldn’t understand.” My chest tightened as I pulled at my own hair. The pain in my scalp was to help me think. “Fuck, Deloris, they’re making her say things she doesn’t want to say.”

  Deloris stood, meeting me head-on. “She called. I’d venture to guess it took some work on her part to do that. I’d also guess that there was more in that conversation than either of us heard. I recorded it. I’ll go back over it, a million times if I have to. I won’t stop until I’ve deciphered every one of her meanings.”

  “I’m not leaving Savannah without her.”

  “Just because we leave doesn’t mean we have to stay gone.”

  My eyes closed as I sank down onto the sofa. “If we don’t leave, they won’t let her see her mother.”

  “Wait…” Deloris said as she pushed buttons on her phone. The recording of the call began to replay in snippets:

  “My help… by you or Lennox… they’d like proof. A flight manifest showing that you, Lennox, and Clayton have left Savannah.” Deloris hit rewind and replayed the last sentence. “A flight manifest showing that you, Lennox, and Clayton have left Savannah.”

  Deloris’s eyes widened. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes,” I said dejectedly, “twice, or I guess, three times.”

  “No. Think about what she said. Who needs to leave?”

  “All of us.”

  “Lennox, that wasn’t what she said. She named me, you, and Clayton.”

  The puzzle Deloris was showing me began to make sense in my tired, heart-wrenched mind. “She didn’t say Isaac. Maybe she doesn’t know he’s here.”

  “Or maybe she knows, but no one e
lse does. After all, Clayton and I were seen at Magnolia Woods. You were seen at the gate.”

  “Isaac was with me.”

  “He was a driver, behind a window. He could have been from a rented service.”

  “Isaac can stay while we leave?”

  Deloris nodded.

  MY BACK TENSED as Clayton drove Deloris and me through the gate into the private airport.

  “This pisses me off,” I said for the hundredth time.

  “You’ve mentioned.”

  I turned toward the window, seeing the Georgia red clay as the sun made its way above the horizon. “We’re giving in to him. I fucking hate it.”

  “We aren’t. We’re helping Alex by doing as she asked.”

  “She didn’t mean it. I know she didn’t.”

  “Give me time, Lennox. Give her time. There’s a game going on here and we unfortunately aren’t familiar with the rules. The thing I keep reminding myself is that she is.”

  “Rules?” I repeated. “When was the last time you spoke to Chelsea?”

  “It’s been over a week.”

  I turned toward her. “If she wrote the note, maybe she was giving us a clue too? Maybe she is familiar enough with the Montagues that she knows the rules, enough that could help?”

  “I’ll keep trying. I haven’t been able to reach her since Alex… since yesterday. One thing’s for sure: Alex is familiar with the rules and with Mr. Fitzgerald,” Deloris confirmed. “I’m sure she told you in confidence, but the more I know about her childhood, the mansion, about everything Montague, the more I can help her.”

  I recalled Charli’s honesty, how she’d said she wanted to tell me about her shadows. She said her honesty wasn’t so I could right the wrongs done to her, but so that she could show me she trusted me with things she’d hidden from others.

  “I don’t know what will help you.”

  The car stopped on the tarmac, near the Demetri Enterprises plane. As Clayton opened the rear door, Deloris said, “I’ll go get the manifest from the airport and have them send it to Mr. Fitzgerald. I’ll meet you on the plane.”

  Each step toward the stairs was harder than the last. Each step up seemed like quicksand, its muck sucking me back to the Georgia clay. I stopped halfway up the stairs and looked out at the landscape. Beyond the airport the land was flat, the expanse mostly filled with the lightening sky.

  What was Charli doing? What was she enduring?

  I recalled the night in our apartment when she first shared.

  “Did he abuse you?” I asked.

  She didn’t hesitate with her answer: “Psychologically. Verbally. I was never good enough at anything. Always an embarrassment. Never the Montague I should be.”

  Fuck!

  That was what she was saying on the phone. This was what she was supposed to do and be. I didn’t know what that meant, but that was it. I knew it—in my heart, in my soul—and it frightened me, not for me, but for her. Whatever was happening wasn’t what she wanted, but what she was supposed to do.

  If only I’d pushed more.

  But I hadn’t, and now I was at a loss.

  As I gazed out the window looking for Deloris, it hit me. She was wrong. I wasn’t the one who could answer her questions, but there was someone who could.

  Pulling out my phone, I searched my contacts. The name had to be there. I’d called him at least once before. My watch read 7:26. Maybe if I hurried, I could catch Patrick before he left for work.

  “ALEXANDRIA? ALEXANDRIA?” MY name echoed through my tired mind, punctuated by raps upon my bedroom door.

  I pulled myself from my bed, wrapped my robe around me, and made my way to the door. “Hello.” My voice sounded sleepy even to my own ears.

  “I’m coming in.”

  “Suzanna?” I asked, though I knew it was her voice on the other side of the locked door.

  Last night, after my call to Deloris, Bryce insisted on returning me to my room, only after I relinquished my key. I tried to explain that I wouldn’t leave; I’d only wanted to make a call. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Thankfully, he had taken no for everything else.

  Each time we were together, it was as if there was a power struggle going on within him: his desire to please Alton versus being the Bryce of my childhood. Since it was feasible that Alton would eventually learn I’d made the call to Deloris from his phone, Bryce could counter, saying he’d orchestrated my dialogue as well as confiscated my means for further escape. Giving him the key was a no brainer. When I’d explained that it was one I’d had hidden in my room for years, he didn’t seem to question. I didn’t mention there were numerous others waiting to take its place.

  I turned back to the clock. It was nearly ten in the morning.

  A new panic washed through me. Had Alton left for Montague Corporation? Had I lost my chance to contact Columbia?

  I took a step back as the tumblers clicked and Suzanna unlocked the door. As the door opened, she instructed the same staff girl from last night to enter, pushing what I assumed to be my breakfast, or at least, a cart with an assortment of covered plates, a carafe, cups, and glasses.

  Pulling my robe closed, I watched as Suzanna directed the girl where to place everything and then instructed her to leave. Once we were alone, Bryce’s mother turned toward me, her expression filled with artificial compassion.

  “Alexandria, how are you?” Each word dripped with her saccharine-coated Southern drawl.

  That was her lead in?

  I forced my bitchiest smile. “I’m peachy. Thank you so much for asking. After all, you just unlocked my door to enter. Doesn’t that sound like fun to you?”

  “Really…” She sat opposite the tray at a small table in my room and lifted the silver dome. “…dear, you should eat. I heard you had an eventful night.”

  I lifted my brows. “It’s nice that Bryce discusses things with his mother. I’d like to do the same.”

  “Look, the cook made you pancakes. You’ve always loved pancakes.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Not since I was seven.” I sat and reached for the carafe of coffee. Though there were two cups; I only poured mine. By the time I stirred in the cream, Suzanna huffed and poured her own cup.

  Bitch, I’m not your maid. I didn’t say that. Instead, I offered the small pitcher. “Cream?”

  Reaching for the pitcher, Suzanna said, “Darling, you really do have the ability to make this better. It’s up to you.”

  “If it’s up to me, I want to see my mother and go back to New York.” It wasn’t what Jane had told me to say, but it was the truth.

  “That’s not what I mean. I mean, you and me, we should be friends. Your father has requested that I plan your wedding for the Saturday before Christmas.” Her eyes lit up. “That’s Christmas Eve. Can you imagine how beautiful it will be? Now, think about it. We don’t have much time. Who do you want to stand up with you? Every girl imagines her dream wedding. Tell me about yours.”

  After taking a sip of her coffee, she nodded knowingly. “Just because this is rushed, doesn’t mean we have to skimp. Your father wouldn’t hear of that. He wants the biggest, grandest wedding Savannah has seen in years… decades even. This is monumental—the Carmichaels, Fitzgeralds, and Montagues, all becoming one.”

  I grimaced over the rim of my cup as she enthusiastically spoke. I had visions of the newscasters who were able to describe the destruction of a mass disaster with a smile on their faces.

  Five thousand dead as a tsunami devastates… on a lighter note, the Miss America pageant will go on as planned.

  “…really can be an epic event. I’ve started the guest list—”

  “Excuse me,” I interrupted, reining in my sarcasm. “There’s no Fitzgerald in that equation.” I stood ready to say that I’d rather marry a Fitzgerald than a Carmichael, when an idea hit me. “Patrick.”

  Suzanna stared. “What?”

  “I want Patrick Richardson to stand with me.”

  “Well, of course, he could b
e a groomsman.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I corrected. “I want him to stand with me.” I shrugged. “I would probably have chosen Chelsea, but you can see where that may be a bit uncomfortable. I’m no longer close to any of my classmates from the academy and those at Stanford didn’t know about… well, this.” I motioned around the room. “I want Patrick.”

  “Dear, we’d need to discuss that with your father. I know he isn’t pleased with the life choices Patrick has made.”

  Infidelity or being gay? I’d go with Infidelity, since homosexuality wasn’t actually a choice. Then again, Infidelity was a secret, so apparently it was Patrick’s sexuality that Alton didn’t approve of.

  I tilted my head. “I don’t want to know how you know what Alton thinks, but if you call him my father one more time, I’ll spill my coffee all over your lovely cream dress.”

  “Alexandria! I’m trying to help you.”

  I slammed my nearly empty cup onto the table. “Let’s get something straight. I don’t want to marry your son. I have never wanted to marry your son. I won’t marry your son, but I will play this damn game to get to my mother. Now how about you stop pretending to be my best friend and you start being Momma’s?”

  She stood. “I-I’m simply aghast.”

  As she fluttered around my room, with her hand near her throat, I sat back in my chair and laughed. It started as a simple giggle, but as the seconds passed the rumble grew to a resounding full-body laugh.

  Finally, she cleared her throat. “You don’t seem to understand. This wedding is happening. Don’t you want a choice in choosing your wedding dress?”

  “You’re right, I don’t understand. How about instead of giving me a choice in dresses, I get a choice in grooms?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Alexandria, I came here this morning to help you.”