Fidelity (Infidelity #5)(83)

I leaned forward with my elbows on the makeshift table, trying to calm the nerves that currently felt like bats or maybe dragons in my stomach. “What do you want to know?”

“We’ve contacted his mother. She’s on her way.”

“How about his father?” Just asking… saying it aloud… caused my dragons to take flight.

The officer looked at a tablet in front of him. “Marcel Spencer? He’s deceased.”

“What?” My eyes grew wide. “He’s dead? When?”

“It says here, he died eight years ago.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Bryce never said he’d died. He would have told me.”

“Ma’am, it says right here that Marcel Spencer died after a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Apparently he had a history of mental issues. I can’t be more specific.”

I looked at Nox. “Mental issues? What if Alton isn’t his father?”

“What if he is? They need to tell him what’s happening. You said yourself that he’s the one person that Spencer might listen to.”

We sat back on the small chairs as the negotiator called Alton. Part of me was surprised he wasn’t already on his way. If Suzanna was, why wouldn’t Alton be?

“He’s not far away.”

I took a deep breath. “Umm, I can’t be near him.”

“Excuse me?”

“I filed a restraining order against him yesterday. I think he can help, but we can’t be within one hundred yards of each other.”

The negotiator shook his head. “Lady, you’re not making this easier on us.”

“And you’re not putting her in danger,” Nox said.

“Will you agree to stay in here?” The officer asked, motioning around the van.

“As long as I’m with her,” Nox answered for me.

The officer looked at me and again at Nox. “Fine, let’s get the call set up.”

“I’ll do whatever you think is best to keep my friends safe.”





“MR. DEMETRI?” ONE of the policemen asked, sticking his head in the van. “Can you come out here for a moment?”

Though Charli nodded her encouragement, I didn’t want to let her out of my sight. “Don’t do anything, no call, nothing, until I get back.”

“Yes, Nox.”

I shook my head as I made my way out the small door.

“Sir, your man on the inside. You said he’s armed?”

“Yes, but he hasn’t made that known to Spencer. He didn’t want to push him.”

“That’s good. Our team needs to know what they’re up against. Right now, your man could be working with Edward Spencer. We have to be prepared.”

I clenched my jaw. “He’s not working with him. His job is to protect Chelsea Moore. He was doing that until she left her room.”

“He left her alone.”

“To find out what was happening,” I refuted. “He’s inside that shop with her and if he needs to, hell yes, he’ll show his weapon. Right now Chelsea is his priority.”

“Can you get word to him?” the officer asked.

“I can try.”

A few minutes later, I was back inside the van holding Charli’s hand. “Princess,” I whispered, “you don’t look well. I want that bump on your head checked out.”

“I will, once Chelsea is safe.”

“Are you ready, Miss Collins?” the policeman asked.

Charli took a deep breath and nodded. “Is Suzanna here?”

“She is. I’d like to bring her inside so she can hear the call. She might be able to help.”

“Okay.”

There wasn’t much room as the small door opened and Suzanna climbed in. Her eyes immediately went to Charli.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Haven’t you caused enough problems?”

“He has Chelsea.”

Suzanna shook her head. “This is ridiculous. She testified for him. He just wanted to talk to her about doing it again. Why does everything have to get blown out of proportion?”

“He beat her!” Charli said.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Suzanna retorted, her neck growing straighter by the minute. “Officer, will I be able to talk to him?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re about to connect the call.”

Charli reached out to Suzanna’s hand. “I saw it.” Her voice was tense and low. “He did it in front of me. He hurt me too. He needs help.”

“You don’t know or care what he needs.” She looked my direction. “I mean, look at you, men falling all over you. Bryce, him, and even Alton.”

Charli’s expression paled. The way her lips contorted, she looked as if she’d eaten something sour. I reached for her leg as words collided on my tongue. This was Charli’s fight. I was here for her. That didn’t mean I didn’t want my turn in the ring—in the octagon.

The sound of a phone ringing filled the van.

“This is on speaker,” the negotiator explained. “Let me talk first. He’ll be able to hear you both.”

The women nodded.

“Where is she?” Spencer’s voice filled the van.