Fidelity (Infidelity #5)(60)



“It’s possible,” Chelsea said.

Detective Means opened a folder and pushed a large glossy picture of Melissa across the table. “Look at her. Does she look familiar?”

“Only from the news.”

“Only from the news? Haven’t you accompanied Mr. Spencer and made statements regarding her disappearance?”

Chelsea nodded. “I have, but the first time I saw her picture was on the news.”

“Miss Moore, where were you this past Saturday?”

“I woke at Montague Manor. Jane, the house manager, asked me to help with the engagement party.”

“That must have been awkward,” Officer Emerson said.

“What? No. I was happy to help.”

“You were happy to help with the party celebrating the engagement of the man you were dating to your college roommate?”

My stomach knotted listening to their questions. From the outside it had to look twisted. Hell, from the inside it was twisted.

“I was,” she said confidently. “Jane gave me a list of places around Savannah. I went all over: florists, caterers. I even met with the quartet to go over music selections.”

“That was very helpful of you,” Officer Emerson said. “I’m sure we could see you on the surveillance footage of these establishments to determine a timeline.”

“I’m sure you could.”

“Why weren’t you at the party?”

Chelsea’s fingers grazed her cheek. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Miss Moore, the guests were catalogued as they left. You weren’t at Montague Manor after the party.”

“No. I’d left during the party, before all of this.”

“Left? Why?” Detective Means asked.

“I’d decided to move to New York.”

“And give up your job?”

“Yes.”

Officer Emerson scrunched his nose. “It was embarrassing to be in Savannah with Mr. Spencer engaged to…” He nodded my way. “…her?”

“I was ready to leave.”

“Thank you, Miss Moore.” Detective Means turned to me. “Miss Collins, are you and Mr. Spencer married?”

“No.”

“Yet at the scene, your stepfather referred to you as Mr. Spencer’s wife. There was a license filed and then voided in unheard-of rapid succession. Can you explain that?”

My eyes widened. They’d voided it? “I can’t. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“So it is Miss Collins, not Mrs. Spencer?”

“Yes.”

“Now if our notes are accurate, you’ve known Mr. Spencer for most of your life.”

“That’s correct,” I said.

“Where were you on Saturday during the day?”

“I also woke at Montague Manor. Next I went with Suzanna Spencer to Magnolia Woods where my mother was a patient. I was there with Jane, the house manager Chelsea mentioned, until late afternoon. I’m sure I’m on their surveillance. I had a meeting with Dr. Miller, my mother’s doctor.”

“But your mother is no longer there?”

“She was there on Saturday. I was with her.”

Officer Emerson looked down at his notes and back up. “You don’t seem concerned or shocked about your mother being missing.”

“Does this have to do with Mr. Spencer and Melissa Summers?” Mr. Owen asked.

Officer Emerson shrugged. “We aren’t sure. We’re just covering our bases.”

“Miss Collins and Miss Moore are here to answer questions about your timeline. Are they done?”

“Miss Moore,” Detective Means began, “what happened to your cheek?”

Chelsea looked to Mr. Owen.

“Is this about Mr. Spencer and Miss Summers?” Mr. Owen asked again.

“I don’t know, Miss Moore, is this about Mr. Spencer or Miss Summers?”

Tears filled Chelsea’s eyes as she maintained her posture. “Bryce has a temper.”

Detective Mean’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you received that bruise from Edward Spencer?”

“I-I’m not pressing charges.”

“But you will testify to his temper?”

She looked again at Mr. Owen. It was the subject we all expected. It was the picture worth a thousand words on her cheek. It was proof of Bryce’s violent outbursts.

“I will,” I volunteered.

“Miss Collins?” Officer Emerson asked.

“I witnessed the altercation.” It was the loophole in Chelsea’s agreement. She wasn’t pressing charges, nor was I. But I could testify as to what I witnessed, what I experienced.

“You saw Mr. Spencer strike Miss Moore?”

I took a deep breath. “Yes. I was in the same room.”

Officer Emerson and Detective Means exchanged looks.

“Miss Moore, we’d like to take a photograph of your cheek, if you’ll allow it?”

Her lip disappeared behind her teeth as she looked at Mr. Owen and then to me. We both nodded.

“Yes, but I’m not pressing charges.”

Detective Means continued her questions. “Did either of you see Edward Spencer on Saturday?”

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