28. Michael
Chapter 28
Michael
I f I have to put up with this any longer, I might dig a hole and bury myself.
I’d rather be dead than live with the memory of two days ago, hearing Savannah calling my name and turning to see her standing there and I say nothing.
At that point, I did want to die. It would have been better than having to explain what I was doing.
But I also knew that taking her side would mean losing my alliance with Alice that I have worked so hard to form.
I need to get the truth from this wretched woman who has downed more than half the bottle of champagne while we sit at this bar.
All the while talking about how proud she was that she fooled Savannah.
After I told Peter that I needed to get Alice to think I was on her side, I reached out to her. All I had to do was throw a couple of signs in the wind, and she came running, thinking I was genuinely interested.
I was glad things were going according to plan.
Until Savannah showed up.
The look in her eyes as she spoke, as she pled with me to say something that would make sense, broke me.
I hurt her.
God, I hurt the only woman I have wanted to protect fiercely in such a long time.
“You know,” Alice’s fingers touch my hand suggestively, and I hold back the bile that rushes up to my mouth, “I am happy she found us. I purposely left my location on, hoping that she would be curious enough to come look for me.”
So, I walked into a trap, too.
She laughs. “Savannah might be smart in a lot of ways, but when it comes to trusting the right people, she might be one of the stupidest people I know.”
I grit my teeth, struggling not to remove her hand, and let her drunken ass hit the floor.
“I see. But do you think she really killed Brandon?” I worm the question casually into the conversation. “Or is she working with Eric?”
Alice snorts. “Eric? That pussy? He doesn’t have the balls to hurt anyone, much less the brains. I mean,” she smiles, “he did find a way to make more money than Brandon, and I couldn’t let some other woman have him.”
I store that information.
“I see. Smart. Cunning. And you are the more interesting friend,” I appeal to her ego.
Her face comes too close to mine, and I gag. Her smile is crooked. “You think? I can also keep a secret. I didn’t tell Brandon that Eric was running a drug business and using Brandon’s name to do it.”
Bingo! I knew there had to be a falling out between the two. But there could have been only one way for Brandon to find out.
My lips purse. The person who is capable of keeping a secret must have spilled.
“Why did you tell Brandon then?”
She frowns. Then she smiles, wagging her finger in my face.
“You are clever, aren’t you? We are birds of a feather, you and me,” she swoons.
“True. If you get another bottle, no,” she shakes her head, “a shot of whiskey, I will tell you the whole story.”
I signal for the bartender to bring the whiskey. Alice drinks it down.
“Okay!” she yells. “I am not one to toot my own horn, but I will tell you because you have been so sweet to me. Besides, it has been killing me to keep it inside, and I need someone to know how clever I am.”
Even though I know that a recording will not be admissible in court, I reach for my phone.
“You see,” Alice begins. “I like money—lots of it. So, I went to Eric. Seduced him. And when Brandon found out he was sad,” she makes a mocking, frowny face.
“But as you know, men are simple creatures,” her words are slurred. “I told him that I would stop. The two-timing, I mean.”
I nod, urging her to continue with a smile.
“I didn’t stop, of course. But he was so in love with me that he believed me. Then Eric ran into trouble, and he stopped giving me money. I wanted to leave, but he was going to tell Brandon.
So, to protect myself, I went to Brandon first, and I told him that Eric was dealing drugs and was using his name.” She laughs at her clever plan.
“And what did Brandon do?”
She shakes her head. “The bastard threatened to not only expose Eric but also implicate me. I couldn’t let it happen, so I went to his house. I was only going to scare him, but he was too stubborn. Then he kept talking about how he should have never believed me or cheated on Savannah, blah blah blah.”
“And?,” I say to get her to continue.
“What else?! I got so mad, and I stabbed him! He died! The end.” She laughs again.
Her voice is loud enough that it draws attention.
Witnesses.
Good. Very good.
“No,” I laugh mockingly. “There is no way you would have done that.”
“You underestimate me. I feel like I haven’t proven myself to you.”
“You are not saying it like someone capable of murder,” I say loudly.
Like a drunk person desperate to be believed, Alice places her hand on her chest. “I killed him. Brandon, that smug bastard—thinking he’s better than everyone when he cheated on his fiancée.”
“Then I framed Savannah because she deserved it! For the video, I paid someone to make it look like she was in his house when it was all me,” she adds.
The attention now is of disbelief, and I see a couple of people with their phones out, recording the entire thing. She is too drunk to even notice.
“What about Eric and Brandon?” I ask, trying to cover all loopholes. “A pawn shop owner said they were arguing about money.”
She laughs. “They had a deal. Brandon was going to borrow money to pay for his wedding. When Eric decided not to loan him the money, they argued.”
I see. So, the shop owner had it wrong.
Then Alice leans closer. “The knife,” she snaps her fingers.
“Go on.”
With a smile, she cups her hands around her mouth.
“I didn’t place the real knife in her house. That would have implicated me because it’s a knife I gave Brandon. I found a different one and soaked it in his blood.”
I nod. “Where is it?”
I don’t get the answer to that because her head lolls over, and she falls on my lap. Ignoring the judgmental looks of people at the surrounding tables, I go to the bartender.
“That lady there. Could you make sure she gets to a hotel?” I tell him the name of the hotel. “Add a note, please. Tell her that something came up and I had to rush home, but I’ll be back.”
He nods in agreement.
“Yeah sure, but why would you want to be around a woman like that? She sounds dangerous like she could really hurt someone.” he leans forward, “Or is that how she gets when she’s drunk?”
Keeping a straight expression, I respond, “I would take whatever she says seriously. She doesn’t lie.”