by A. C. Arthur
“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Reginald spoke up next. “Last we heard Savian was a person of interest. That was months ago. Then we get a call today that he’s being arrested.”
Jenise looked to Savian’s parents and wanted to hug them both for standing there attempting to look so brave. This wasn’t an easy place to be, she knew that and knowing that your son or loved one was behind bars was even more difficult to swallow.
“One of the first things the police did after Giovanni Morelli’s body was found was to subpoena the surveillance tapes from the security company that had installed them at his house. Savian was seen on one of those tapes leaving Morelli’s house the night he was killed,” Jenise told them.
“That’s not possible,” Parker interjected. “Savian was at the party with us. When we arrived he was already there. What time was that? Around eight-thirty or something like that. And after Giovanni attacked Adriana at the party he was arrested and taken to the police station,” he said looking over to Adriana who was nodding her agreement.
“You’re correct about that,” Jenise told Parker. “The problem is your story only gives Savian an alibi for the night of the party. Morelli was killed hours after he was released from jail the next night, between eleven and eleven-thirty,” Jenise continued. “Still, all the tape confirms is that Savian was at Morelli’s house. From what I was originally told there was no time stamp on the video, just the markings on the outside of the case that indicated it was the day of the murder. That’s why they didn’t immediately arrest Savian, because there was still nothing affirmatively connecting him to Morelli’s death. Last night I received a message from the detective that they now have a letter on Savian’s letterhead, with Savian’s name typed as the sender to Morelli. The letter supposedly threatened Morelli’s job and his life if he didn’t back off of Adriana.”
“What?” Adriana gasped.
Parker was shaking his head. “No. Savian would never do that. He’d never write a letter like that. It’s doesn’t even sound like him.”
“No, he’s right.” Dion said. “That’s something Parker or I might say face-to-face to the guy, but not Savian. He’s not the violent type.”
“He’s the exact opposite, my son,” Carolyn said quietly. “He never wanted any bother out of anyone. He never looks to physically hurt someone.”
There was something odd about what Carolyn Donovan just said. Jenise picked up on it immediately but just as quickly brushed it off. “Good,” she replied. “Then we’ll need to gather as much evidence to support Savian’s honest, upstanding and non-violent personality as possible.”
The room went quiet after that.
“I’m going to get a copy of the surveillance video and have my expert look at it. If there’s a possibility that it was edited in any way, we’ll know about it. Same for the letter. I told them I want to see the finger print report as soon as it’s ready and I want a copy of the letter for my own records. What we need to do now is focus on showing the court that Savian is a good man and not a murderer. I’ll do the rest.”
Carolyn walked over to Jenise at that point, taking both her hands. “I know you’ll be able to save my son. I know it.”
Jenise was a confident attorney. She knew her stuff and she knew how to present it all in court to her client’s advantage. There were holes in the prosecutor’s case but since the Donovans were a high-profiled family and Morelli had been a reputable director, they were receiving pressure to close this case. She knew that drill.
What Jenise didn’t understand was why each time she’d looked into Carolyn Donovan’s eyes she’d felt an instant pang of guilt? It was as if she were somehow being dishonest. It was silly, she knew. Savian was her client so he was really the only person she had to remain on the up and up with. Not his family. Still, standing here, holding hands with his mother and seeing the tears well in her eyes, had Jenise’s chest swelling and her own tears threatening fall.
Dammit. This wasn’t supposed to be personal. It was work.
It was always work.
Until now.
Until Savian Donovan.
Chapter 3
Savian hadn’t been this angry in a very long time. He’d sat—even if for only an hour and a half—in that jail cell with his elbows resting on his thighs, his fists tightly clenched and his brow furrowed. There wasn’t one part of this situation that was good or even acceptable in any way. He was too old and had too much going for him to be in this predicament. The fact that the situation was a bunch of BS also irritated the hell out of him.
Yes, he had gone to see that bastard Giovanni Morelli the day after the All Access event. The man had not only tried to ruin his brother’s reputation and attacked Adriana, but he was still attempting to sue the company they’d all worked so hard to build. Savian had gone to see him to try and talk some sense into him, and because he’d wanted to learn more about the claim that Giovanni had made that night at the party—the one about someone paying him to knock Parker and Adriana down a notch. That statement had something clicking in Savian’s mind, after he’d rushed Parker and Adriana out of the hotel. He’d thought about it all night long until he’d heard that Morelli had been released on bail. Savian immediately decided to drive to the small house the guy was leasing in Coconut Grove later that Sunday evening.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Giovanni had asked when he’d answered the door.
He’d looked like he’d slept under the jail instead of in it, but Savian hadn’t an ounce of pity for the bastard. In fact he hadn’t even offered an answer, but instead had pushed his way inside Morelli’s house.
“You can’t just come in here and do whatever you want!” Morelli had yelled, slamming the door after Savian had come in. “You damn Donovans don’t own everything and everyone! Somebody’s going to bring you to your knees and I’m going to be glad to see it!”
Savian had snapped then. Before he could stop himself he’d crossed the short distance between them and grabbed the front of Morelli’s shirt. The guy smelled like stale cigarettes and liquor as Savian slammed his back against the wall so hard the pictures that had been hanging there shook.
“You’re gonna tell me who the hell hired you to attack my family right now!” he yelled into Morelli’s face. “Were you responsible for the break-in at my parents’ house? Who’s paying you? I want a name, now!”
Morelli had only laughed at him.
“You think I’m gonna tell you anything? I don’t work for you anymore and even if I did I wouldn’t—”
Savian had punched him then. He hadn’t planned on getting physical with this guy. He’d only come here with questions that needed answers, but Morelli wasn’t cooperating. Being knocked to the floor hadn’t made him anymore cooperative.
“He’s too powerful for even you to stop him with your bad temper. He’s going to get each and every one of you high and mighty Donovans, and I can’t wait to see you all fall. I can’t wait,” Morelli was saying when Savian finally decided that it was best he left.
His fists had been clenching at his sides while Morelli talked and it had taken every ounce of restraint in his body to keep from punching that idiot in the face again and again. He’d yanked open that door and walked fast to get to his truck. Once inside he simply sat there, his hands wrapped securely around the steering wheel. Every muscle in his body had been tense, his temples throbbing as the anger moved through him like a blustering storm. He’d wanted to hurt Morelli because the man was trying to hurt his family. He’d wanted to see Morelli on his knees in pain because he realized he’d messed with the wrong person. It reminded Savian of when he was in high school.
Dropping his head Savian remembered the night he’d last seen Morelli, just as clearly as he’d recalled the rainy afternoon more than ten years ago. That was the last time he’d felt that way. It was the last time he’d wanted to inflict as much bodily harm as he possibly could and damn the consequences.
But he had not killed Giovann
i Morelli.
He wasn’t a murderer.
Flexing his fingers out in front of him, Savian told himself that over and over again. He was not capable of taking another human life. He simply was not. And yet, there had been another time when he had caused physical damage, so much that he’d been arrested and charged with assault.
Jenise didn’t know that and neither did Adriana, Tate, or the people he worked with. What had happened in high school was a family secret that Savian was certain only the Donovans that lived here in Miami knew about.
Taking a deep breath Savian sat up. He dragged a hand down his face and tried to focus on how he could clear his name. There was a call he needed to make, someone he needed desperately to speak to before this went any further. From the night he’d heard his name announced on the evening news about being a person of interest, Savian had known this moment would come. He’d hoped, of course, that something would be revealed by that time. That whoever had paid Morelli to come after them would be identified and caught and this would all be over. It hadn’t worked out that way, so now he’d have to come up with another plan.
“You made bail,” the portly officer announced as he unlocked the cell. “I don’t guess that was much of a surprise. That lawyer of yours is something else too, marching in here and making demands. She’s a spitfire.”
Savian hadn’t even realized he’d cleared the space between them, but he was in the officer’s face quickly, clenching his teeth to keep his words at bay as the officer simply raised a brow and chuckled at him.
“Rich boys like you can’t handle it in here long. Makes you start thinking crazy, doesn’t it?” he asked.
Savian continued to seethe, but again, did not speak.
“Well let me give you a warning, keep your anger in check and pay that lawyer any amount of money you can because if she can’t get you cleared of the charges, I’m gonna personally make sure your ass is up for grabs when you get over to the penitentiary,” he said with a smirk.
Another officer had showed up then, pushing the first one aside and letting Savian walk out of the cell. He’d escorted Savian out to the waiting area where Jenise and Parker were waiting.
His brother approached him first, clapping his hands on Savian’s shoulders as he stood in front of him.
“You okay?” Parker asked.
Savian nodded in reply.
“We’re gonna get them, you hear me? We’re going to find out who’s behind this and we’re going to bury their asses. They’re not going to get away with trying to frame a Donovan,” Parker stated in a tone that did not allow for any argument.
Not that Savian intended to argue his brother’s statement. “Right,” Savian said. “You’re absolutely right.”
“There’s press everywhere,” Jenise added as she joined them. “They were all over your parents and the rest of the family when they left.”
“My truck’s still at the office,” Savian stated. “Parker can drive me back there to get it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Parker said. “They’re probably camping out at Excalibur too. We should get you somewhere private at least for a couple of hours until they come up with something else to run on tonight’s news broadcast.”
“I’m not running from these pricks. They want to report on what’s going on, fine, report it. But I won’t go into hiding like I’m guilty,” Savian argued.
“No, not like you’re guilty,” Parker replied. “But like you’re smart. They’re looking to catch you saying something, or doing something. Anything, Savian and they’re going to hang you for it. You’ve got to think smarter than them. I’m not saying hide out, I’m just saying to take careful steps. Get somewhere and clear your mind for a few hours. You know you don’t want reporters in your face right now.”
Parker was right and by the way he was looking at Savian, he knew how close his brother was to the breaking point as well.
“I hear you,” Savian said, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“I can take him back to my place for a while. No reporters will be there,” Jenise said.
“I think they’re going to remember your bright red Mustang from this point on,” he told her.
She nodded. “You’re right, but they’re not going to follow us out of the parking lot. They’re going to think they’re the smart ones and head to either your office or your apartment building.”
“They may even go to the station,” Parker suggested. “But she’s right, they won’t think about her place. Text me her address when you get there just so I’ll know where you are and we can meet up later at mom’s. You know she’s cooking and wants to see your face before this day is over. We almost had to have the cops escort her out of the building because she didn’t want to leave without knowing you were safe.”
“He’s right. She waited until I came back with the bail money and watched me go to the cashier’s office to post it before she would leave,” Jenise said with a tentative smile.
Today, she’d met his parents, his siblings and his cousins. This was not supposed to happen and now he wasn’t sure how he felt about knowing that it had. Hell, he was still grappling with being arrested for murder, everything else should be taking a second seat, but as he looked at her, he wondered.
“Fine. But I’m going to need my truck,” he told Parker.
“I’ve got the spare key,” Parker said. “You text me Jenise’s address and Regan and I will bring your truck over there and park it, so when you’re ready to leave you’ll have it.”
Savian nodded. He moved first because he was beyond ready to get out of this place. “Let’s go then,” he told them and walked out of the waiting area.
Ten minutes later he was back in the passenger seat of Jenise’s car. The police had cleared the back parking lot of reporters, but as soon as they drove out onto the streets, cameras flashed, while men and women with microphones in hand and an exposé in their minds, rushed towards the car. Jenise didn’t hesitate, but stepped hard on the gas until the engine purred and the car jolted quickly forward. The quickly moving car sent the bravest of the reporters rushing back for fear of being hit. Savian couldn’t help but chuckle as they pulled away.
“You had them believing you were going to hit them,” he said.
“I was,” she replied with a shrug. “They shouldn’t be in the street.”
For the first time in he didn’t know how long, Savian laughed out loud.
#
“Pardon the boxes, I just had them delivered from storage this morning,” Jenise said as she let Savian into her apartment.
“Are you moving?” he asked immediately.
“No,” she replied as she stepped down the two steps into the sunken living room of her apartment. “They’re my Christmas decorations.”
“Oh man, not you too,” Savian groaned.
He’d moved further into the living room, dropping the suit jacket he’d been carrying in his hand onto the end of the love seat.
“Regan and Parker were just talking about Christmas lists and gifts this morning. It’s only the first week of November,” he continued.
If his laughter in the car had surprised—and yet pleased—Jenise, watching him walk comfortably over to one of her boxes and open it up made her want to smile herself. She remained calm however, because this was Savian after all. He’d had a very trying day and probably didn’t know what he was doing or saying at this point.
“I love Christmas,” she replied. “Waiting until November to start my decorating is like pulling teeth every year. I can’t wait to get started.”
“You don’t even have children and you’re decorating,” Savian was saying as he stared down at a box of crystal ornaments he was holding.
“Christmas isn’t only about children. It’s about the magic and the feeling of this time of year. It’s a peaceful and happy feeling and I just love it,” she said, stopping herself finally because she thought she might be gushing just a little
bit.
Savian was looking at her as if she might grow antlers or a white beard and start shouting “ho, ho, ho”.
“What? I’m sure your family celebrated Christmas and probably in just as big a way as mine. Your mother and Regan were talking about the dinner menu while we waited at the station. Regan brought it up. I think she wanted to keep your mother’s mind on something cheerful.” Jenise talked while she moved, going into the connecting dining room to sit her briefcase in a chair and removed her jacket.
She took her cell phone out of her purse and put it on the charger she kept in the living room. There was one in her office and another in her bedroom because she always had to stay connected, as her mother would complain. When she came back into the living room it was to find that Savian had continued to go through one of the boxes of decorations.
“Did you make these?” he asked while holding up two paper ornaments covered with puffy cotton balls and bright red and green glitter.
“I certainly did,” she replied with pride and moved closer to take them from his hands. “When I was in the third grade. I made an entire set of twenty four, so my mother has some, my aunt and my grandmother. I kept a few for myself for when I had my own tree to decorate.”
“You kept these all that time when it would have been just as simple to buy ornaments,” he said more as a statement than a question. “Did you make some for your sisters and brothers?”
Jenise walked over to the bar to fix them a drink. She knew she needed one and even though Savian wouldn’t admit it, he could probably use some liquid relaxation as well. They weren’t discussing his case right now, which was a good thing. She had some thoughts about strategy as well as some pressing questions, but nothing she was ready to discuss with him. For the time he was here she would keep him relaxed and stress-free because that’s what he needed, even if he would never admit it.
“Wade is the oldest,” she began as she took two glasses from the shelf and set them on the bar. “He used to be a terrible agitator so I wouldn’t have thought of making him anything. Now, he’s a playboy bachelor and wouldn’t be caught dead with homemade ornaments on his store-bought and pre-decorated tree.”
