Chapter 9 Kavita Ridley
Kavita Ridley
The Manhattan Herald
Farewell to Dale Caimen
It is with our saddest regrets that we announce our beloved Dale Caimen passed away suddenly Saturday night.
Dale has worked for The Manhattan Herald since he was in high school.
He started as an intern, assisting anyone in need of help.
It wasn’t until he began his column, Metropolitan Musings, that he surprised New York City.
People finally learned about social events and got a glimpse of life through the eyes of New York’s elite.
He had the wit to boot, along with charm and class, as he reported on goings-on from the city we all clambered to read first thing in the morning, before our first cup of coffee.
Dale Caimen was adopted by the late Donald and Phoebe Caimen, leaving behind his legacy in his voice at the column.
His passing has shaken the Ridley family, as his unexpected death happened at Saturday’s gala.
They ask for privacy at this time. We may not have the same voice as Dale, but we plan to continue his legacy with Metropolitan Musings being written anonymously.
His funeral will be held at St. Patrick’s Cathedral this coming Saturday for all who wish to pay their respects.
As Dale once said, “New York is a place where everyone wants their story to be heard, but who shall write them all?”
Until next time, New York’s Musers.
Kavita swiped the trickling bead of sweat near her right eyebrow.
She fetched the ice-filled lemonade pitcher to cool herself down.
The Harper’s Bazaar magazine was keeping her slightly entertained.
She indulged in Parisian fashion, as she thought the style was far better.
The French Riviera intrigued her too. She hadn’t traveled with her family to France for almost three summers.
Her father hadn’t cared for France ever since he adopted Amelia.
Kavita knew the only reason their mother made them all go in the summers was so Amelia could be around people who spoke her language.
Which eventually made her and her siblings learn each other’s native languages.
It was like a fun game to her. Within a few years, Kavita could have secret conversations with her siblings, but the one she connected with the most was French and speaking it with Amelia.
She’d never understood why her father didn’t see the beauty in Europe like she did.
Kavita’s favorite cousin on their mother’s side, Jacqueline, and her parents would frequently visit France and sometimes stay the whole year.
Kavita flipped through the pages of the magazine, seeing that she already owned everything in it, from Cartier jewelry to a Rolls-Royce to the glittering world of New York City that F.
Scott Fitzgerald wrote about in his short stories.
Nothing stuck out to her. Her imagination clung to her feet in the Mediterranean’s bluest waters, then sipping her morning coffee on the hotel terrace while the sun drenched her skin and the breeze cooled her off.
That was what she wanted, but for now, she would have to make do at her family’s estate pool to mimic the things she loved. It felt as if she were enclosed in a slightly opaque bubble, where she could see everything going on in the world but they couldn’t see what was inside her spirit.
She craved the feeling of being hidden, but the sight of her siblings wasn’t too bad.
They were all in their own little worlds.
Henrik tapped his feet along with the gramophone while Louis Armstrong’s sound filled the pool area.
Adesua was painting something new for an art competition in Harlem that she’d been ranting and raving about.
Wei was smoking a cigarette and reading.
Diego was looking at cookbooks. Amelia was doing her usual morning dive in the deep end, constantly challenging herself to stay under for as long as possible.
She always tried to beat Omar, but he won every time.
Kavita reached for her large sun hat and robe to prevent the rays from hitting her skin. As she flipped the hat over, something red fell from it and down the side of the table. She reached for it as far as she could, too lazy to stand up and get it. The edge was hard and pricked her finger.
It was a peculiar red envelope, addressed to her.
Definitely not one of their invitations.
She looked on the other side of the pool to see if any of her siblings had seen it as well.
Her gut dropped a little, and not from the French 75 she was drinking.
The red made her think of the blood dripping down Dale’s head.
It was a sight she couldn’t forget. She got a nearby knife and slit the envelope open.
The white slip of paper had few words on it, but they were enough to get Kavita out of her chair.
Don’t you and your handsome fiancé have enough dead bodies under you, or better yet, inside you? We know everything, Kavita.
Only her siblings and the more-than-likely-paid-off police officers knew about her supposed pregnancy.
Who would say something like this? She was sure an officer or investigator wouldn’t prod into women’s issues such as this.
If anything, a woman’s body and how it worked was the last of their worries.
What did they know about her and Franklin?
The file. It all led back to the file. At this point, any of them could have it, or maybe they were lying when they said they didn’t have it in the hope that one of them would tell the truth.
If there was any truth to be told. Dale was dead, and how it had happened wasn’t Kavita’s concern.
Still, it nagged at her, the thought that one of her siblings may have the files and was trying to conceal their dirty secrets.
Kavita didn’t feel scared of the letter, but rather the fact that someone, or one of her very own siblings, was attempting to taunt her.
Was it because she’d kept the engagement a secret from them?
Perhaps Adesua would do this, but they were all shocked, from Amelia to Wei to Omar.
None of them really liked Franklin anyway.
But whom she married shouldn’t matter; she wasn’t the one trying to take over the company.
At this point, she felt like she could trust no one, but her siblings didn’t have to know that, of course.
Maybe it was a warning for her to go no further with Franklin.
Whoever had written the letter hadn’t asked for money. So it had to be one of her siblings.
Kavita crossed her legs and stuffed the letter in her bag. She quickly grabbed her things, leaving abruptly, to her siblings’ confusion.
“I got the cold towel you asked for, Miss Kavita,” one of the maids said as she walked in her direction.
She waved her off, heading straight for the drawing room.
There were too many people in this house.
Rotating staff, different friends of her siblings.
Anyone could have placed it there. One thing she wasn’t going to do was keep any evidence of anything.
Kavita looked around, ensuring no one else was near.
She threw the envelope into the fire as quickly as she’d read it.
She knew what she had done, and someone else did too.
Even after the interrogation, no one had a clue where the file on their family was.
This bothered Kavita the most. She wanted to be ahead of whatever narrative Dale had coming for her.
She was used to putting a spin on every story that was published, from her so-called scandalous dates to the parties she would attend.
It truly tickled her pink, but this time, she felt the darkness of what Dale had been going for.
He had been even more conniving than usual that night.
She wondered whether the file had miraculously flown into the pond on a strong gust of wind.
Kavita hoped for that, but in the ticking bomb of her thoughts, she knew it hadn’t.
Why should she trust any of her family members?
Especially Amelia, who had kept from the rest of them that she was going to be the next owner of the Ridley Line.
Kavita had protected her siblings from scandals, but what if hers were far greater than any of their previous ones combined?
Her eyes reflected the orange and red embers as she watched the envelope crumple and turn black.
Kavita felt pleasure in seeing it disappear.
Little did she know that Henrik was peeking through the window behind her, watching her.
She fell to the floor, holding her chest, hit by the same feeling she’d had on the night of Dale’s murder.
It was all coming back to her. She was fine.
That was what she kept repeating to herself over and over.
But her body said otherwise. Tears fell down her face.
She knew her past wasn’t good, and neither was Franklin’s.
Kavita believed in redemption. Dale hadn’t had time to redeem himself because he’d kept bothering her and her family.
So she felt in her heart that redemption didn’t apply to him.
As she freshened up her face in front of a mirror, faint footsteps approached her hurriedly.
They then stopped before anyone came around the corner.
She grabbed a mail opener from the mantel to arm herself.
Maybe it was the person who’d left her that letter.
She wasn’t going to wait like an innocent lamb ready to be slaughtered.
Kavita quickly approached the corner with the pointy gold opener in her hand.
“Oh heavens!” Mrs. Darla yelped, terrified at the sight of Kavita.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Darla. I thought . . . Never mind,” she said, guilt on her face.
“Child, I just came to tell you that Mr. Franklin has called you once again. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
She went to the kitchen. Kavita’s avoidance of her fiancé would have to end sooner or later. After that letter, she had no other option. She picked up the phone, only breathing. He knew she was there on the other end.
“We need to talk about last summer, Kavita.”
Kavita smiled as a few of the maids walked past her.
“Good.”
She hung up the phone and walked out the French doors.