Fidelity (Infidelity #5)(23)

I reached for my own fingers and rubbed. My hand was obviously injured, not severely, but my knuckles were scraped. It could be used as evidence. More than likely the manor had surveillance footage of me punching Fitzgerald. I wouldn’t and couldn’t deny the altercation. The guards, I could. Without proof, there was no way I’d admit to hitting them.

After what seemed like forever, the police car pulled into the back of the police station. I deduced our location by the chain-link fence and multitude of police cars as well as the crowd of people near the front. Thankfully, I didn’t appear to be the main attraction.

No one outside the fence seemed to care as the two officers escorted me up a ramp and through back doors. As a new officer booked me, I took in the scene. My location was relatively isolated, yet I could hear the buzz.

Melissa Summers.

Edward Spencer.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked as they took my final photograph.

“You’ll learn more as soon as the detective comes to question you.”

I tilted my head toward the large room of desks filled with people. “I mean over there. It seems like a busy Saturday night.”

The officer led me by the arm. “It’s not like we never have murders. We do.” He leaned closer. “But this is a big deal. The FBI is here. It’s a shit show.”

The handcuffs were gone. They’d come off during the booking. Unceremoniously, the officer deposited me in a small room with a metal table and four chairs. “The detective from the scene will be in here in a few minutes to ask you some questions.”

“I refuse to answer any questions until my attorney arrives.” I knew it was the right move; nevertheless, I wondered when that would be. Demetri Enterprises had a slew of attorneys, none of whom were in Savannah, Georgia.

“Mr. Demetri, we’ve been informed that your counsel is on his way.”

Truly all I wanted was to hear the charge, make a plea, and pay my bail. “After he arrives, when can I see the judge? I have places to go.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath. More than likely your case won’t be heard until morning. It’s already after midnight, the detective needs to question you, and as you saw, this place is hopping with a case much bigger than yours.” And then he was gone, behind the solid door. I’d watched enough crime shows to guess the large mirrored surface was really a two-way window. Did anyone ever not know that?

After midnight. Really?

I couldn’t even remember what time it was when we drove away from Montague Manor. The whole night was a blur of scenes like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit. I looked to my watch, but it was gone. The policeman had taken that and most of my other personal belongings during the booking. Though they hadn’t taken it, I didn’t have my phone either. The last time I had it, I’d handed it to Charli.

I didn’t want to make a call—I was confident Deloris was on this. What I wanted was to open the necklace app, to see Charli’s blue dot flying toward New York. If I could be reassured that she’d done as I wanted, I could concentrate on the shitstorm around me.

Just then, the door opened and I stood, stunned and surprised that I recognized the first man to enter. I’d spoken with him only a few days before.

“Mr. Demetri.”

I extended my hand. “Mr. Crawford. I didn’t expect you.”

He tilted his head to the left. Beside him was a tall man with dark skin and intelligent eyes. “This is Daryl Owen.”

We shook hands.

“As you may recall,” Stephen Crawford said, “I’m a law student, not an attorney, yet my new internship is with the practice of Preston, Madden, and Owen here in Savannah. When I received the call from your assistant, Mrs. Witt, I called Mr. Owen, one of the partners. He agreed to take your case.”

“Mr. Demetri,” Mr. Owen said.

“Lennox,” I corrected. “Thank you, Mr. Owen. I appreciate your coming out at this time of night.”

The two men sat across from me at a small metal table.

“I’ll be frank,” Mr. Owen said. “Before the detective comes in, you should know that aggravated battery, in the state of Georgia, faces between one and twenty years in prison and a fine up to $100,000. No one has claimed that you used a firearm, which is in your favor.”

“Aggravated battery? I hadn’t been told my charge.”

“They read you your rights?”

“Yes.”

He nodded and jotted down a few notes. “The detective is going to ask where you were this evening at approximately nine-thirty?”

“I’m not sure of the exact time, but I was at Montague Manor this evening. There was a big party.”

“Were you on the guest list?”

I smirked. “Most certainly, I was not.”

“Yet you were on private property?”

“I was.”

“Lennox,” Mr. Owen said, “we need you to be one hundred percent honest with us.”

“I am.”

“Why were you at Montague Manor?”

“To rescue my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

Mr. Owen and Stephen exchanged looks.

“Would your girlfriend be Mrs. Alexandria Spencer?”

The muscles in my neck tightened. “No. My girlfriend is Miss Alexandria Collins.”