Love Me

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Love Me Page 15

by Cheryl Holt


  “Andrew Fitzroy-Jones?” the man with the badge asked.

  Andrew’s panic was obvious. “Yes, that’s me.”

  “FBI. Could we speak to you?”

  “I’m busy at the moment.” Andrew’s eyes darted around, searching for an escape route.

  “It will only take a minute.”

  “What is this about?” Andrew huffed. “I’m leaving town. I’m on my way to the airport.”

  “That’s what we’d like to discuss.”

  Brittney took a slow step back, then another and another. The crowd swallowed her up and she hurried away.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  Amy glanced over at Brittney. They were walking on the beach at the family’s private compound on the island of St. Martins. It was the same spot where Amy had spent her abbreviated honeymoon.

  After the debacle in Denver had abated, Brittney had disappeared again, and though she’d stayed in telephone contact with Dustin, it had taken an enormous amount of coaxing to get her to admit where she was.

  She wanted to be left alone, but Amy simply couldn’t oblige her.

  The Merriweather siblings were a strange bunch, and Amy was still maneuvering through the weird maze of their hang-ups and problems. She didn’t know everything that had recently happened to Brittney, but Amy suspected there had been a major heartbreak wedged in with all the chaos.

  Brittney had been engaged to Andrew, and then—apparently—she wasn’t. There had been a wild rumor that Matt Monroe’s father-in-law was her biological father, but the accusation had been snuffed out before it could gain any traction. They hadn’t heard another word about it.

  Brittney, Lucas, and Dustin Merriweather were the saddest, loneliest people Amy had ever met. With their marriages to Faith and Amy, Lucas’s and Dustin’s lives had improved dramatically, but what about Brittney?

  Amy couldn’t bear to know that she was hurting, that she didn’t feel there was anyone who cared about her. Brittney needed to learn—as Dustin and Lucas were learning—that she could reach out and find a helping hand, that she could fall and someone would be there to catch her.

  While Lucas and Dustin had fretted over Brittney and argued over what they should do to assist her, Faith and Amy had decided that Amy should travel to the Caribbean and speak to Brittney. Amy’s intent was to lure her home to Colorado where she had family who’d love her. If she’d let them.

  “Have you seen a newspaper lately?” Amy asked.

  “No. I’m trying to block out the real world.”

  “Andrew was arrested.”

  “I figured he probably had been. After I left Denver, I flew to New York to talk to him, and some FBI agents arrived as I was leaving. I thought that was a bad sign.”

  “There are all these stories circulating that billions of dollars have vanished from his firm. His clients want to bring back the guillotine.”

  Brittney shuddered with distaste.

  “I dodged that bullet,” she muttered.

  “Did you have any idea?”

  “No. One of the things I liked about him was that he seemed so stable and steady. I can’t picture him being reckless. It’s so out of character.”

  “I guess reckless doesn’t begin to describe his conduct.”

  “Just before the FBI stopped him,” Brittney said, “he claimed he was on his way to Colorado to get me. He was hoping we could elope to Vegas. Can you imagine if I’d agreed? What if he’d been a few hours quicker and I’d married him?”

  “You’re right,” Amy mused, chuckling. “You did dodge a bullet.”

  Amy had always been a busybody, had always butted her nose in where it didn’t belong, so she couldn’t keep herself from meddling.

  “Are you still engaged to him?”

  “No. The reason I went to New York was to tell him it was over.”

  “How do you feel about that?” Amy scowled. She sounded like a therapist rather than the friend she was trying to be. “Are you inconsolable?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Well…good.”

  “He was all wrong for me. When he proposed, I never should have accepted.” She sighed. “I’m better off without him.”

  “I’m glad you’re not pining away.”

  “Is that why you’re here? Were you guys worried I was bereft over…Andrew.” She laughed miserably. “If only.”

  “We were concerned.”

  “Who is we? Who sent you? Dustin or Lucas?”

  “Those two men couldn’t find their butts with both hands.”

  “True.”

  “So while they were dicking around and debating, Faith and I decided I should come and see if you were okay. We don’t like you going off by yourself.”

  “I’ve always been on my own,” Brittney said.

  “I realize that, but you don’t have to be anymore.”

  They continued strolling down the beach, with Amy taking surreptitious peeks at Brittney out of the corner of her eye.

  Despite what Brittney contended, Amy didn’t think she was better off after her split with Andrew. Maybe it was best that they’d parted, but she was so unhappy. If Amy had been required to explain Brittney’s condition, she’d say Brittney was grieving.

  She was much too thin, quiet and distracted, and she floated along so insubstantially that Amy was surprised to see any of her footprints in the sand. She was like a ghost, barely present, barely visible.

  “What happened with you and Matt Monroe?” Amy inquired.

  A fleeting smile crossed Brittney’s lips.

  “Why would you ask about him?”

  “You seemed to hit it off. He…was so…ah…”

  Amy cut off her remark. She didn’t know what she thought. She’d only seen them at her wedding reception, but their blatant attraction had billowed around them like a cloud. They’d looked so hot for one another.

  If Amy had been inclined to bet, she’d have wagered Dustin’s fortune that Matt and Brittney would have ended up together. In fact, when Brittney had first left for New York, Amy was certain she’d gone to break up with Andrew because of Matt Monroe. How was it that Brittney had wound up sad and mourning and unattached to either man?

  It didn’t make any sense, and Amy couldn’t pry out any details.

  “Have you talked to him,” Amy pressed, “since you got here?”

  “Why would I have?”

  “I’d hate to have him worrying about you too. You should call him.”

  “Trust me. He’s not worried.”

  “So…it’s like that, huh?”

  “Yeah. It’s just like that.”

  “I could have sworn he was the one,” Amy mumbled to herself.

  “The one what?”

  “The one for you. You Merriweathers were on a roll, what with marrying the most inappropriate person in the world. Lucas and Faith. Dustin and me. I figured you and Matt were next.”

  “You only saw him once. Why would you have heard wedding bells?”

  “Hey, I could just tell.”

  Brittney stopped and gazed out at the water. For a lengthy interval, she was silent, then she turned to Amy and said, “Look, I know you mean well, but I’m not interested in discussing Andrew or Matt or anything else. I’m fine, and I wish you’d head to Colorado and leave me alone.”

  “Why don’t you come with me? We have plenty of space at the house in Gold Creek. We’ve finished the remodel of another bedroom. It could be yours, and you could stay as long as you like. You could rest and regroup.”

  “From what?”

  “You’ve had some hard blows lately. It wouldn’t kill you to admit it and let us take care of you.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “But you don’t have to!” Amy insisted. “We want to help.”

  “I have no desire to be in Colorado right now.”

  “Dustin told me about Ken Scott and his allegations. Is that why you won�
��t come back?”

  “No,” she said, but Amy was skeptical.

  How could she ignore such a claim? How could she not want to hash it out?

  “Wouldn’t you like to learn the truth? Lucas and Dustin have some terrific lawyers, and they could start an investigation. It can’t be healthy to walk around with this huge weight on your shoulders.”

  That fleeting, ethereal smile flitted by again. “There’s no weight on my shoulders. The last day I was in Denver, Matt confessed that it was all a lie. They were scamming me, trying to hit me up for money.”

  Amy was a great judge of character. When she met someone, she made instant decisions about them that were always correct. She’d liked Matt Monroe; she’d gotten nothing but good vibes from him.

  “Matt was scamming you.” She frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “He was very clear.”

  “Why would he behave that way? I don’t believe it.”

  Brittney shrugged. “I didn’t want to believe it either, but I’m not stupid. I can understand plain English.”

  “He was crazy about you! I’m positive he was.”

  “It was all a game to lure me into their lives. I liked them so much, and I thought they were…” She let out a heavy breath. “It doesn’t matter what I thought.”

  She was wearing her bathing suit, a cover-up over top. She grabbed the hem and tugged it off.

  “I’d like to be by myself for awhile,” she said. “Would you mind heading to the house on your own?”

  “Okay.”

  “And why don’t you check out those reservations to Colorado.”

  “I will.”

  “Maybe you could book a flight for tonight.”

  Without another word, she waded into the water until she was past the breaking surf. She stood, bobbing in the waves and staring out at the horizon.

  Amy watched her, expecting her to turn around, to rejoin Amy on the beach. But when she gave no indication that she’d be getting out anytime soon, Amy walked on to the house as Brittney had asked her to do.

  She climbed up onto the verandah and sat in a chair, still nervously watching Brittney, still hoping she’d come out of the water.

  Now that Amy had seen her, now that they’d spoken, she was more concerned about her than ever. She went inside, found her phone, and dialed Dustin.

  It was the only time they’d been apart since the wedding, and he answered on the first ring.

  “How’s it going?” he inquired.

  “Your sister is a mess.”

  “That’s not news. She’s always been a mess.”

  “I need you to find out something for me.”

  “Anything, you know that. What is it?”

  “I want you to talk to Matt Monroe.”

  “Matt Monroe?”

  “Yes. I think he broke her heart.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Just some of Brittney’s comments. She claimed Ken Scott was lying about being her father, that Matt was scamming her for money, but—”

  “I’ll kill him,” Dustin interrupted. “I will absolutely kill him.”

  “Calm down, big boy.”

  “I won’t calm down. That guy and his father-in-law are a menace. I wish to God I’d handled this weeks ago. The minute she told me about it, I should have driven over there and busted some heads.”

  “I like Matt.”

  “You would,” he snorted.

  “He’s not the type to swindle somebody, so we have to figure out what’s really going on.”

  “Oh, I’ll figure out what’s going on all right, and when I’m done with him, Monroe better pray that all his limbs are still attached.”

  * * * *

  “How’s your eye?”

  “Stop asking me about my damned eye. It’s fine; it’s completely healed. You can’t even tell I was injured.”

  Ken glared at Matt. Ever since the day Matt had been arrested, he’d been on a rampage. There was no reasoning with him. There was no living with him. Ken and Jeremy ducked into corners and kept out of his way.

  His perpetual bad mood was annoying. Matt wasn’t the only one who was devastated. He wasn’t the only one who was grieving.

  “You shouldn’t mouth off to the cops,” Ken scolded.

  “Thank you for reminding me for the thousandth time.”

  “You’re lucky Brittney bailed your ass out of jail. If it had been up to me, I’d have left you there.”

  “Thank you again, and don’t mention Brittney to me. I’m sick of hearing about her.”

  “Why shouldn’t I talk about her?”

  “What good does it do?”

  “I miss her,” Ken said.

  “You miss a fantasy.”

  They were in the kitchen—Ken at the table, Matt washing the dishes—and bickering like a pair of angry housewives.

  School was out, summer vacation started, and Jeremy was off playing ball with friends, for which Ken was grateful. Ken liked to poke and prod Matt about Brittney, liked to needle and offend, but he couldn’t pester him when Jeremy was listening.

  He’d been so sure that Matt and Brittney would wind up together, but maybe Matt was right. Maybe it had all been an old man’s stupid fantasy.

  “Do you think she’ll ever come back to see us?” Ken hated the plaintive tone in his voice.

  “Why would she?”

  “Or call me? Would it kill her to pick up a phone? I realize you were a total jerk to her, but what did I do?”

  Matt trudged over and pulled out a chair. He slumped down into it.

  “She didn’t leave because of you,” he said, admitting what he’d revealed weeks earlier. “I told her to go away. Blame me, not her.”

  “Prick.”

  “She didn’t even argue, Ken. She just went. That’s how much she cared about you.”

  “Don’t you dare say she didn’t care about me!”

  “She probably cared—in her own detached Merriweather way. But so what? There wasn’t any reason for her to hang around. I warned you. You were being crazy, expecting a different ending.”

  “You’re wrong,” Ken insisted. “There was every reason for her to stay. If she doesn’t belong with me, where does she belong?”

  “With her rich, powerful family. With her own kind. We couldn’t give her anything she needed, and you were a fool to suppose we could.”

  Weary and drained, Matt sighed. They’d been debating the issue forever, and neither would yield on any point.

  Ken had been so sure about Brittney. He’d convinced himself that their blood bond would provide a magnet that couldn’t be severed. Yet she’d trotted off without a goodbye.

  He still couldn’t believe it.

  “She was happy with me,” he tried to claim.

  “She was here five days, Ken.” Matt circled them back to the spot where they always landed. “It was a game to her. She could have been acting out a part in a play. How did it go? Let’s review: We were raided by the police, with me beat up and in jail. Jeremy upset. Her brothers throwing their weight around. News trucks in the yard.” He scoffed. “And you wonder why she left.”

  Ken sighed too, with regret and remorse. He’d thought it would be so simple to bring her home. He’d planned it for years, but plans and reality often collided.

  “I can’t imagine what her mother said about me,” Ken lamented.

  “I can. She’s such a witch. What possessed you to sleep with her? I can’t picture it.”

  “She was lonely; it was easy to persuade her.”

  “Next you’ll tell me it was her idea, that she couldn’t resist you.”

  “She couldn’t. If you’d ever met her husband, you’d understand.”

  “I’ll never understand. Not if I live to be a hundred.”

  Ken knew that Brittney had talked to her mother about him, because a couple of high-powered lawyers had shown up at their door.

  They’d slapped a bunch of legal documents into Ken’s hand. He’d been a
ccused of slander, had been ordered to cease and desist, had been threatened with lawsuits that would seek massive damages, which was silly. He didn’t own any property worth taking, and Jacquelyn could have it all, if he could just have Brittney in his life for awhile.

  But Jacquelyn had made her point. She had no intention of meekly admitting the truth. She’d fight him to the bitter end, and apparently, she’d won the war.

  It was clear she’d told Brittney that Ken was a liar, and Brittney had never come back to ask Ken for his side of the story, hadn’t given him a chance to counter Jacquelyn’s horrid version.

  He’d been positive she would. They could have arranged a DNA test, could have proved her mother wrong.

  Because he’d spent five days with her, he’d assumed he could predict how she’d act. He’d been certain she’d have a little faith, but as Matt kept mentioning, she’d abandoned Ken at the first hint of trouble.

  “I just wish you hadn’t been so mean to her,” Ken said. “She didn’t deserve it.”

  “I couldn’t figure out how else to make her go.”

  “If you hadn’t been so darn mean…”

  She might have visited before she left. She might have called or written. She wouldn’t be feeling so betrayed and angry. He couldn’t stop obsessing over all the ways he might have engineered a better conclusion.

  There was a knock on the front door, but neither of them rose to answer it.

  Ken leaned over and yelled, “It’s open. Come on in.”

  Two men entered, and when Ken saw who it was, he grimaced.

  “Crap.”

  Dustin and Lucas Merriweather strolled in—looking furious and aggrieved and ready to punch somebody.

  “Obviously,” Ken sneered at Matt, “they’re here to see you.”

  Matt stood and glared at them. “What the hell do you two want? There aren’t any cops around today to protect your rich, sorry asses, so don’t even think about stirring up any trouble.”

  “Shut up, Monroe,” Lucas Merriweather said.

  Dustin Merriweather approached Matt until they were toe to toe. He was eager to brawl, and Ken rolled his eyes.

  “No fighting in my kitchen,” he sternly warned. “If you’re planning to throw some fists, go outside.”

  “I don’t want to fight,” Dustin tightly asserted. “I want to talk about my sister.” He narrowed his gaze, studying Matt as if he was scum on the floor. “What did you do to her?”

 

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