Fidelity (Infidelity #5)(66)

“Of course.”

“And you never spoke to Bryce Spencer? You never flirted with him? You never encouraged him to give up on Alexandria and see you instead?”

“No, Mr. Porter, I did not.”

“Ralph,” Mr. Owen said, “Miss Moore is not a suspect. She’s here to give you a statement about Edward Spencer. Perhaps we could concentrate on Saturday?”

“This line of questions goes to witness integrity,” Ralph explained, turning back to Chelsea. “Did you lie to the Evanston police or are you lying now?”

“I met Edward Bryce Spencer in August of this year while I was hospitalized at the Stanford Medical Center. I have no recollection of speaking to him or even seeing him before that date. Recently, Mr. Spencer and I were in a relationship. He asked me to help him, to lie for him. I thought he cared for me. I wanted to help him.”

“So you lied?”

“I helped him with an alibi.”

“Miss Moore, you do realize that if you admit this in a court of law, you will be admitting to perjury? Do you know what perjury is?”

“Yes, sir, I do. I will tell the truth if I’m required to speak in a court of law. I will tell them what I just told you: I met Mr. Spencer in August.”

“And you moved in with him when? In September?”

Her face lost color as she leaned across the table. “Mr. Spencer told the world I was nothing more than his whore. Nothing you or anyone can say to me on the stand can make it any worse. I have nothing left but the truth. I won’t hesitate to speak it.”

Ralph made a note and looked up. “So this is retaliatory?”

“Ralph, she isn’t on trial,” Mr. Owen said.

“Miss Moore, he paid for your relationship, isn’t that true?”

“We had an agreement as you’ve so frequently mentioned. I cannot nor will not say more than that. If you mention it in a court of law, you are violating his side of the agreement, and I will walk away with my entire year’s pay.”

“Isn’t that your intention now? That violation clause that Mr. Owen mentioned?”

A pregnant pause settled over the room. Finally, Mr. Porter continued, “Tell us, how did you feel when he called you a whore? How did you feel when he and Alexandria became engaged?”

“Used. Cheap.” Her answers were clipped. “Are there any other words you’d like me to use?”

“And how did you feel when you found out that not only was he seeing Alexandria, but also Melissa?”

“I didn’t know about Melissa except in past tense.”

“Yet you shared a home?”

“I never saw her.”

Their responses and rebuttals came lightning fast. Multiple times Mr. Owen intervened. I offered my perspective, but each time he concentrated on Chelsea.

“Miss Moore, you never saw Melissa, just as you never saw Bryce Spencer before August of this year?”

Chelsea stopped answering, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes filled with tears.

“I think we’re done,” Nox said, beginning to stand.

“Fine,” Ralph said. “Let’s talk about Saturday, about the day Miss Summers was brutally murdered.” He narrowed his gaze. “Where were you?”

She gave the same answer she had to the detectives. Waking at Montague and running errands for Jane.

“All day?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have a driver?”

“No. I was given a Montague staff car to use.”

“And you knew where to go?”

“I had a list with addresses. The car had GPS.”

Ralph sat straighter. “Miss Moore, your cheek. When did that happen?”

“That is enough,” Mr. Owen said.

“Melissa appeared to have been a healthy young lady. Did she put up a fight before you killed her?”





THE CRACKLING FIRE soothed me as I drifted in and out of sleep. I was growing stronger with each day, but I’d still spent nearly two weeks in bed, mostly drugged to the point of unconsciousness. As the hours and days passed, I recalled bits and pieces of the detoxification.

More than once I’d woken with a start, my ribs screaming out in pain as my body jolted awake. There were memories of the nurse, a burly man. I also recalled insects and vines. The memories weren’t as real as when it had happened, but they were enough to keep me away from painkillers or alcohol. I wouldn’t risk going through that again.

Oren had done his part too. Silvia informed me that the house was completely alcohol-free. Every bottle of anything had been removed. Though I had no intentions of searching, I appreciated the knowledge.

It wasn’t that I didn’t long for a glass of wine. I did. I could close my eyes and see the wine cellar at Montague: walls and walls of shelves lined with bottles. The vision made my mouth water and pulse race.

It wasn’t only the thought of alcohol that sped my heartbeat, but my husband too. I’d spoken to Ralph once, only to confirm that I was alive and well. I didn’t mention the will or my decision to divorce Alton. I simply said I was fine and would contact him again at a later date.

As I reached for the warm cup of tea near the sofa, I wiggled my toes under the soft blanket covering my legs. Beyond the windows the sky was gray with clouds that threatened snow. And yet I was warm and happy. I was sober and clean. I was growing stronger in a home I’d only heard about, dreamt about.