Scandalous Truth (31 page)

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Authors: Monica P. Carter

BOOK: Scandalous Truth
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“You'd better watch it.”
“You're going back to the hospital.”
“You'd better do what I say.”
“Tell me your secrets.”
“You can't run.”
“Arghhhh!” she screamed and stood. Danielle walked around in circles, her hands to her ears, trying to block out the thoughts that threatened her sanity. “No! No! No!” she tried to fight the thoughts back.
Just as she calmed down and fell into her seat, exhausted, a flurry of activity at her door drew her attention. The building manager stood before her stern-faced, and Nurse Smart stepped quickly toward her desk. “Danielle, these people seem to think—”
“Danielle Esperanza? You're under arrest for the murder of Troy Baldwin.”
Chapter 109
Nikki didn't know what to do next. She refused to leave the house, too embarrassed to even step into the front lawn. She picked up the telephone to call William, but dropped it, guilt and shame making her skin burn.
She somehow managed to fix some oatmeal and toast for Psalm, before locking herself in the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the tub and finally, after weeks of stress and years of living in fear of being found out, she cried hard. And for a long time.
Her shoulders shook for the little girl whose father chose her brother instead of her. Her throat tightened for the little girl whose mother chose a stepdaughter and new husband over her. Her chest tightened for the college freshman who felt she had no other option than to sell her body to men who fancied her. She even cried for the woman who had spent the past seven years lying to everyone, including herself. She cried for the woman who avoided God because she thought He didn't want anything to do with her.
When her eyes could produce no more tears and her throat felt as thick as peanut butter-soaked cotton, she stood up, spent and tired. What would she do now?
William could not escape the cameras or the incessant ringing of the telephone. “William, you've got to stay the course,” Winston pleaded, knowing their months of hard work were in real jeopardy.
“I can't do this anymore,” William said, his head in his hands. “The cameras. The stories. I can't.”
“You can and you will,” Olivia said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I'm sorry you've had to go through all of this, but maybe it's all for the better. You were able to see what kind of woman your wife truly is. And even if you don't win this election, it positions you to win the next because your name will already be out there. This is all for the better.”
William looked at her incredulously. “Do you think this is a game? This is my life. I don't care anything about name recognition right now, especially when I've just realized the woman who has carried my name has been lying to me all along.”
Olivia rubbed his back. “It's a shame, isn't it?”
The phone jarred Nikki from her thoughts. She slowly stood from her perch on the edge of the tub and walked with wooden steps toward the ringing. Maybe it would stop by the time she got there. She could think of no one in the world she wanted to speak to right now.
The ringing was still going on when she got to the kitchen. She sighed and picked up the receiver. “Hello.” Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears.
“You have a collect call,” the automated voice informed her. She couldn't understand the name, but numbly accepted. The call connected.
“Nikki, I've been arrested, please come and get me.”
The voice crackled through Nikki like an electric shock. Danielle. She snapped into action, the numbness of a moment ago being replaced by fire. “I know you are not calling me to help you!”
“Please,” Danielle implored. “There has been some mistake. They're saying I killed Troy. You know I didn't do that!”
“I don't care if they send you straight to the electric chair!” Nikki shouted. “I would cut off my right arm before I lifted even a finger to help you, after what you did to me.”
“I didn't do anything!”
“Yeah,” Nikki said. “Just like you didn't tell the press about me using that credit card. Just like you didn't sleep with my boyfriend all those years ago. Just like you didn't stab me in the back a hundred times.”
“Nikki, please!”
Nikki slammed down the telephone.
 
 
“I need to run an errand,” William said. If Winston or Olivia or any of the rest of his staff so much as breathed another word to him, he knew he would blow up. His face felt hot with embarrassment and his gut was tight with so many other emotions. He needed to find a quiet spot.
“I'll go with you,” Olivia quickly spoke up.
“No,” he said, standing. “I'll go alone.”
He saw Olivia and Winston exchange glances. Winston cleared his throat. “You have appointments. And the phones keep ringing, we've got to devise a plan to recover from this latest Jimmy Vaughn story.”
“I said, I need to run an errand.” William's words were coarse. He grabbed his keys and jacket.
“Well, when will you be back?” Olivia pressed.
He gave her a withering look and strode away, ignoring her question.
Danielle slumped against the gray, concrete wall of the cell in which gruff, uniformed officers had unceremoniously dumped her into just moments ago. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, knowing she could draw blood but not caring as she welcomed the pain.
The floor was a darker gray than the walls, with a light covering of dust and stray hairs she could clearly see. The only other person in there was a woman who slept on the flat mattress. Danielle could smell the stench of alcohol emanating from the woman and moved as far away from her as she could. She could hear a den of noise all around as guards shouted obscenities and other arrestees cursed back.
Danielle paced back and forth in the tiny space, wringing her hands. She didn't know if she could survive this.
William's cell phone rang even before he turned the key in the ignition. He thought to ignore it but snatched it up instead. Whoever it was would get an earful. “What!” he said.
“Who are you talking to like that?” his mother's sharp tone drilled into him.
He was instantly chastened. “Oh, Ma,” he said. “I didn't know it was you. I'm sorry. What's up?”
“What's up is this mess I'm reading all over the papers and seeing on this television,” she said. “What is going on?”
“I really don't know,” William said. “I just don't know.”
“Well, I could have told you that girl was no good,” she said. “I did tell you, as a matter of fact. I told you to marry a good, Christian girl. Somebody who knew the Lord.”
“Nikki does know the Lord,” William shot back.
“Hmmph!” his mother said. “I don't know anybody who knows the Lord who would be caught up in all that mess. She's full of sin, I tell you! That's what you get for hanging out with the wrong kinds of people. I told you and I told you, but no, you wouldn't listen. And now look at you. Married to a prostitute!”
The statement ripped through William's gut. Even in his anger, the words hurt. “Nikki isn't like—”
“Well, now, everybody ain't lying,” his mother said. “The news makes up some stuff, but I guarantee they didn't make this up. What does she have to say for herself?”
William wondered the same thing.
“Mommy, I want to watch TV,” Psalm said, picking up the remote from the table.
Nikki snatched the device from the girl's hand. “No!”
At Psalm's startled look, Nikki smiled and said in a softer voice, “No, baby, we're not watching TV. Let's read. Go get one of your favorite books and Mommy will read it with you.”
“But I don't want to,” Psalm whined. “I want to watch cartoons.”
“Maybe later,” Nikki said, but she knew she would keep Psalm away from the television. She didn't need her child seeing all those bad things about her.
Ring! Ring! The phone startled Nikki. She snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Is this Nikki Broussard? This is Jimmy Vaughn from the newspaper.”
“Jimmy, I can't talk to you,” Nikki said tersely.
“Come on, Nikki,” Jimmy said. “Just tell me what's going on. Give me the scoop.”
“There is nothing going on!” Nikki said.
“Nikki, all those stories we've worked together on . . .” Jimmy tried to lean on their professional relationship. “How many stories did we cover together when you were an intern, you shooting photos and me reporting? You know I'll be fair to you.”
“Not interested, Jimmy,” Nikki's voice was firm.
“Nikki—”
“Good bye, Jimmy.”
She placed the receiver back in its cradle.
The phone rang again. She sighed and rolled her eyes before snatching up the receiver. “Jimmy!”
“Excuse me?” the female voice caught Nikki off guard.
“Oh, who is this?”
“This is Jamie Nettles from Channel twelve. I was looking—”
“You have the wrong number,” Nikki cut the woman off.
 
 
Nikki hung up the phone. When it rang again, she took the phone off the hook.
While Psalm rummaged in her bedroom for a book, Nikki's mind went back to a time in her distant past. She had been a freshman at college—broke. The school was threatening to cancel her classes if she didn't come up with payment. She had enrolled in school, not realizing her scholarship hadn't covered all of her tuition.
She had tried asking her family. But her mother had reminded Nikki that she should have gone to school near their home, like her mother had told her to do. Nikki was fresh out of ideas when she literally bumped into Spencer Cason.
She crashed into Spencer as she walked across campus, her mind replaying that conversation with her mother. Nikki's books spilled to the ground and she immediately bent to reclaim them, but he was quicker. He scooped them up.
She had looked up at him, mesmerized by the hazel eyes twinkling back at her. His wavy hair was cut close and his smile was inviting. She felt herself blush at the attention. “I'm so sorry!” she gushed, reaching to get her books, but he had held on to them.
“It's okay,” he said. “It's not every day that I get almost knocked down by someone as innocent and cute as you.”
She smiled shyly and cast her eyes down. “Oh . . .”
“So, can I walk you across the Quad and buy you a burger inside the student center?” he asked. He snapped the fingers on his free hand. “Sorry. My name is Spencer.”

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