by Rachel Woods
“I don’t like it either,” Sione said and then exhaled. “But my father is claiming he came to the island to rescue me from Ben, and that Ben ambushed him and his men, and they were just trying to defend themselves.”
“Does your cousin believe that?”
“I doubt it,” Sione said. “There’s just no evidence to the contrary.”
“John,” Spencer started, haltingly, before going on, “After the detective took my statement, your cousin Roy came into the room to ask me how I was, and he wanted to know what I’d told the detective.”
“He told me he talked to you.”
“Did he tell you that I told him something I didn’t tell the detective.”
Sione nodded, and his heart started to race. “You told Roy that Richard killed Moana.”
“I’m sorry,” Spencer said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have—”
“I’m glad you told him,” Sione said, hoping to reassure her, even though he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about her confession of his father’s crime, one that was unsubstantiated.
“But your cousin can arrest him for that, can’t he?”
“My father killed Moana in Belize,” Sione said, revolted and relieved by his father’s actions. The hypocrisy of his feelings, however, was not lost on him. How could he throw stones at Richard for finishing what he’d started, accomplishing what he’d failed at but had wanted to do. “Belize has jurisdiction over the crime, which Roy knew, and I figured, but we called my cousin Jared, and he confirmed it.”
“So, you told Jared?” Spencer asked, hope in her voice.
“I did, and he’s going to look into it,” Sione said. “Honestly, I don’t think much will come from his investigation. My father is very good at covering his tracks. After we got off the phone with Jared, Roy and I talked to Richard. Of course, he was shocked and dismayed that you had falsely accused him, considering that he’d rescued you, saved your life.”
“Maybe he did save my life, John.” Spencer sat up and put a bit of space between them. “But he killed Moana, too. And I know she was no saint, but…”
“Richard claims he rescued you from Ben’s beach house and that you were alone and unattended,” Sione said, recounting his father’s inaccurate but compelling narrative. “He claims you had been abandoned by your kidnappers.”
“But, that’s not true,” Spencer insisted. “I told Roy what really happened.”
“I know, but Richard’s guys are telling the story the same way he is, the way he instructed them to tell it,” Sione said. “According to them, Moana was never there.”
“So there’s no evidence that Richard killed Moana,” Spencer said, shaking her head. “There’s only my word, which Jared probably doesn’t even believe because he thinks I’m a liar and—”
“Come on, don’t get upset,” he said, pulling her back into his arms. “Jared believes your story. He’s going to look for evidence against Richard.”
“But you don’t think he’ll find any, do you?” Spencer said. “And I guess I don’t either. After Richard killed Moana, he told his guys to get rid of her body and make it appear as if she never existed.”
“My father will be brought to justice,” Sione said with more confidence than he felt. “One way or the other.”
“And Ben?” Spencer moved her head to look up at him. “Is he going to get away, too?”
“Not likely,” Sione said. “Roy has him on kidnapping and murdering the two guys from Richard’s crew.”
“But will Ben go to jail?” Spencer asked. “Or will he get away somehow?”
“Ben is not going to get away with what he did to us,” Sione said, and again, the confidence in his voice contrasted with his true beliefs, which worried him. “Trust me, he’s going to jail for a long damn time…”
66
A’arotanga, South Pacific
The Tuiali’i Estate
“Spencer okay?” Roy asked, taking a seat at the table in the large kitchen.
Several hours had passed since the last time they’d talked in Roy’s office at the police station. The chaos surrounding the arrest of Richard and the transport of Ben to the hospital had precluded Roy from finding a moment to talk with Sione, who had waited around to get a word with his cousin. Roy had promised to stop by the house once things calmed down.
Sione grabbed two beers from the refrigerator. “Yeah, she’s upstairs resting.”
“Winnie said the baby is okay,” said Roy, accepting the beer Sione handed him.
“Thank God,” Sione said, thankful his little boy had survived the nightmare Spencer had endured. A nightmare he’d put in motion and had been lucky to have escaped.
Roy nodded, took a swig of beer, and said, “Funny.”
“What?” Sione sat across from Roy, confused by his cousin’s teasing smirk.
Shaking his head, Roy said, “You gonna be a father.”
“Is that so surprising?”
“Guess not. Maybe.” Roy shrugged. “You excited?”
Sione smiled. “I actually can’t wait. Part of me wishes he was already here, but then I feel like I need time to get ready, you know. I need to prepare.”
“Trust me, I do know what you mean,” Roy said. “But even after having two, I still don’t know if I was really ready. I don’t think it's something you can fully prepare for. You just have to do it because once the baby comes, it’s too late to change your mind.”
Sione frowned. “Now you’re starting to scare me.”
“Relax,” Roy said. “You’ll be fine. I can tell how much you already love that kid.”
“I really do,” Sione said. “As soon as Spencer told me she was pregnant, I felt like he became my world, you know?”
“I do know,” Roy said. “I felt the same way when I found out my wife was expecting.”
“I just want to be a good father,” Sione confessed. “I want to be like Uncle Siosi.”
“And unlike Uncle Rich, huh?” Roy gave him a sympathetic look.
“Can’t imagine subjecting my son to what my father put me through,” Sione said. “Thinking about it now, it was child abuse.”
Roy said, “Uncle Rich is a complicated man.”
“Complicated?” Sione scoffed. “There’s nothing complicated about it, Roy. He kills people.”
“Well, that's never been proven,” Roy said. Sione rubbed his eyes. “Look, I know Uncle Rich is a bad dude, and that's a gross understatement, but he loves you. You’re his world.”
Sione looked away. He didn’t like the idea of being Richard’s world. Meaning everything to his father required too much sacrifice. It was too high of a price, costing him his mind, body, and soul. He could never be what Richard expected him to be or what his father wanted him to be. He could never live up to his father’s hopes and dreams and schemes.
Still, part of him wanted his father to be proud of him. Part of him liked the idea of meaning so much to Richard. He liked the idea of his father always being on his side and having his back, looking out for him. Maybe Roy was right. Maybe the relationship with his father was too complicated. Maybe he wasn’t quite sure how he felt.
“I don’t want to talk about Richard.”
“Well, too bad,” Roy said. “Because I came to tell you that Richard is still behind bars.”
Relieved, and yet strangely suspicious, Sione said, “Yeah, but not for long.”
“Maybe longer than you think,” Roy said. “He’s facing a few charges. The most serious being possession of unlicensed firearms which is illegal in A’arotanga.”
Dismissive, Sione said, “As soon as he makes bail, he’ll disappear.”
“If he makes bail,” Roy said. “He went before the magistrate judge who set bail at fifty thousand dollars, which I thought would be no problem for your dad, but he couldn’t pay it.”
“You're kidding.”
Roy shook his head. “Surprised he didn’t call you.”
“I would not have answered.”
“Is Unc
le Rich really broke?”
“I don’t know and I don't care,” Sione said. “Probably not. May just be having a problem getting access to funds. I'm glad to hear he's got to sit in jail for a while. Maybe it’ll give him time to think about his life.”
“Maybe,” Roy said and stood. “But I doubt it. Before I go, you know anything about this?”
“What?” Sione asked.
Roy dropped something on the table. Sione stared at it in disbelief. What the hell?
Ben’s envelope.
Grass-stained and frayed around the edges and at the corners, it was stained and streaked with dried mud splotches. Had Ben accidentally dropped the envelope? Or had the damn thing fallen out of his pocket? Somehow, Ben’s envelope had left his possession after Spencer had given it to him.
Sione's heart pounded as he picked up the envelope, pretending to examine it, making sure to frown, and hoping he seemed confused. “What is it?”
“Appears to be an envelope.”
“I don’t know what this is,” Sione said, holding Roy’s gaze, which was more curious than suspicious. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“One of the officers found it in the area where Uncle Rich’s guys and Ben had their little skirmish,” said Roy. “Took a look inside. Strange. A bunch of animal symbols on a piece of paper. Might have been hand-drawn. Maybe made with some kind of stamp.”
Rubbing his jaw, Sione shook his head. “I don’t know, Roy.”
“Think it might belong to Uncle Rich?” Roy picked up the envelope.
Sione shrugged. “You have to ask him.”
“Maybe I will,” said Roy. “Or maybe I’ll just lock it up in the evidence room for safekeeping until someone comes to claim it.”
“You know,” Sione said, staring at the dirty, torn envelope in his cousin’s hand. “I think that might be the best thing to do.”
67
A’arotanga, South Pacific
The Tuiali’i Estate
ONE MONTH LATER
Spencer’s heart pounded with joy and exhilaration as she basked in the beautiful summer day on the island of A’arotanga.
Walking through the grove of palm trees, Spencer clutched her bouquet of frangipani flowers. The soft petals were the same white as the wedding dress she wore as she headed down a wide path cut through a grove of tall hibiscus bushes. Making her way across the expansive lawn behind the mansion on the enormous, sprawling estate of John’s late uncle, Siosi Tuiali’i, Spencer walked with a measured pace. She forced herself to keep time with the romantic processional music even though she really wanted to race down the aisle and into John’s arms.
Stepping onto the strip of white silk on the grass, Spencer walked between the rows of white chairs where her wedding guests sat, smiling and crying. In addition to the entire Tuiali’i family and John’s Belizean relatives, Spencer’s grandmother and a few of her cousins had been flown in from Houston for the ceremony.
With each step, her relationship with John flashed before her eyes.
She remembered meeting him for the first time…their first kiss…the first time they’d made love…and many of the other intimate times they’d shared after that first explosive encounter…their horrible breakup…the passionate reunion…and then the proposal she’d never expected.
With each step, the story unfolded of a troubled woman involved with a dangerous man. A woman who should have been dead or in jail but had somehow, through the grace of God, found love instead.
Walking down the aisle seemed to take forever, but soon Spencer was at the altar holding hands with John, standing before God and all their guests and the minister, moments away from becoming John’s wife.
Each step had been worth it. Each step had been a testament to the trials and tribulations. Each step reminded her that everything they’d suffered had not been in vain but had been so they would appreciate and be forever thankful for the joy they were experiencing right now.
Spencer handed the bouquet to Rae, who smiled and mouthed “You’re so beautiful. I’m so happy for you.” Spencer smiled back and after a deep, fortifying breath, Spencer turned. It was all she could do not to gasp.
When she looked up at John, it was as though she had gone back into the past and was seeing him for the first time. Her reaction was the same as it had been then. He was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen. That he was tall and muscular made it even better. And knowing what was in store for her in those tuxedo trousers made it beyond phenomenal.
John took her hands and smiled at her.
She smiled back, hypnotized by those hazel eyes gazing at her, giving her butterflies.
The minister began with the reason for the ceremony: to join together Spencer T. Edwards and Sione D. Tuiali’i. He made pastoral comments about the union of marriage and how it should not be entered into lightly but with sincerity and an intention to honor God.
“And now at this moment in the ceremony,” the minister said, “the groom has some sentiments he would like to express.”
Nonplussed, Spencer stared at the minister and then at John, wondering what was going on. During all their wedding rehearsals, they had never practiced the moment when the groom expressed sentiments. Why was he rewriting the script?
John stared at her and said, “I know we said we would do the traditional vows and we will, but I want to tell you something, and I want everyone to hear it, as well.”
There was a slight cough.
Spencer cut her eyes toward the groom’s side and saw Carmen staring at them with pursed lips.
“John,” Spencer half-whispered, half-mouthed. “You don't have to—”
“Yes,” he whispered, “I do.”
Giddy and yet slightly apprehensive Spencer nodded.
Clearing his throat, he said, “You once asked me what kind of woman I wanted Mrs. Tuiali’i to be, and I told you I wanted my wife to be selfless and compassionate and a woman who would help me be a better person. Well, I realize now I was describing the woman I thought I was supposed to want and should be with because that was the kind of woman my family would accept. But now I know that Mrs. Tuiali’i is loyal, tenacious, encouraging, supportive, and most of all she loves me as much as I love her. Spencer, you are all those things and so much more. You are the woman I hoped and prayed and wished for, and I love you and I don’t care what anybody else thinks. Don’t think you have to be a certain kind of person to make me happy because you make me happy just being who you are. I don’t want you to be anything except what you are to me, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Speechless, Spencer stared at him, moved beyond words by his public declaration of love for her. His acceptance of her meant more than she could say, more than he would ever know.
John’s heartfelt profession deserved a response, and despite the tears threatening to ruin her makeup, Spencer took a breath and said, “John, I remember that conversation, and I also remember thinking that I could never be that woman no matter how hard I tried. I’ll admit I was a little upset because I knew even then that whoever got to be Mrs. Tuiali’i was going to be so blessed to have a wonderful man like you to love her and protect her and be with her forever. You could have had your pick of all the kind, compassionate girls in the world, but you chose me to love and—”
Spencer stopped to blink the tears away and then said, “I really love you, and you have made all my dreams come true. I’m so happy that I’m the girl who gets to be with you forever. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
John smiled at her as the minister continued, and Spencer couldn’t help but think of how they had finally arrived at this moment—happily ever after.
Despite the mistakes, the danger, and the betrayal, she and John had withstood all the setbacks and the threats to their happiness. They’d overcome the treachery, deceit, and violence inflicted upon them by Ben and Richard. Neither adversary could hurt or hinder them anymore. Ben remained comatose and Richard incarcerated�
��the future grim for both men.
As the ceremony continued with the exchange of rings, the minister’s blessing, and the reading of Scripture by Shady, Spencer stared at John, hardly able to believe she was really marrying him. John looked so perfect and gorgeous. He was everything she would ever want for the rest of her life.
“The Bible states that two are better than one. They receive a good reward for their toil, because, if one fails, the other can help the companion up,” the minister continued. “With the blessings of God, it is my pleasure to now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Weak-kneed, Spencer reeled from the sensations of a million butterflies set loose within her as John stared at her, his gaze an expression of love and bliss.
“You may now kiss the bride!”
Note from Rachel
Thanks so much for taking the time to read Flawless Betrayal. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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