The Perfect Deception

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The Perfect Deception Page 23

by Lutishia Lovely


  Rubbing his eyes, he asked her, “Where are the boxes?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re here to store stuff, right?”

  “Uh, not today. I . . . have to look at the space first to see what will fit. It won’t take long. Come on.”

  “I’m so tired . . .”

  She opened her car door. “I’ll help you.”

  It took some effort to get Nathan out of the car. He leaned against it as if the effort to stand had used up his energy. Jessica looked around, desperate for a way to get him inside, give him the shot, and leave him in the locked space. Just as she was about to panic, she noticed a large moving dolly.

  “Wait right here!”

  She ran over to get the dolly and quickly wheeled it over to where Nathan now slumped against the trunk.

  “Here, sit down.”

  “Huh?”

  “Please, babe. Just sit!”

  He half sat, half fell onto the platform. It took effort wheeling two hundred pounds of deadweight, but eventually Jessica got them through the door and into an elevator. They exited on the third floor where according to what she’d overheard were mostly empty units. Jessica noticed several doors without locks. She chose an empty end unit, the farthest away from the elevator and stairwell, hopefully less likely to be noticed by staff. She wheeled Nathan into the three-by-five-foot unit, against the far wall, and closed the metal door. After trying to catch her breath and slow her rapid heartbeat, she looked over at Nathan, again sleeping peacefully. After turning her back to him, she reached into her purse and pulled out the syringe she’d purchased at a medical supply company using the fake ID information that Sissy had provided. With her sister’s help she’d already filled it with the fluid that was supposed to send Nathan into a peaceful, forever sleep. The reality of finality seeped through her steely resolve not to feel, and clutched her heart.

  “I’m sorry, Nathan,” she whispered in anguish, staring at the steel door that at least temporarily would hide her crime. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t! But it’s the only way to help my sister. She’s the only family I’ve got, and this is the only way to free her. If there was another way, believe me, I’d do it. But I have no choice. Hopefully someday you’ll forgive me.”

  She wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and with needle in hand turned around. The scream that followed reverberated against the metal walls.

  CHAPTER 44

  “Nathan!” His name shot out of her mouth riding a blast of incredulous breath

  “Surprised to see how well your vitamin worked?” He stood erect, legs spread, arms crossed, looking fit as a fiddle.

  Scrambling to recover, she got to her knees. “Yes! I, uh, I never thought it would be so . . .”

  “Ineffective? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

  “I-I-I just . . .” Legs wobbled as she stood, all words lost.

  His eyes went from her face to the hand still clutching the syringe. She immediately recognized the mistake and put the offending appendage behind her.

  Closing the distance between them, Nathan’s voice was low and calm. Too calm, given the circumstances. “Why’d you do that?”

  “What?”

  He gave her a look that read “don’t play with me” all day long.

  “I was going to tell you eventually.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “That, um, that I’m a diabetic. I shouldn’t be ashamed of it, but I am.”

  “You know what, Jessica? You are without a doubt the best liar I’ve ever met. I almost don’t know whether to be angry or impressed.”

  Jessica stood there, trembling, trying to breathe.

  “How long have you been trying to poison me?”

  Her mouth dropped. “What? I—”

  “Stop lying!” Finally, the gasket was blown. Suddenly and without warning, he gripped her arm and forced it from behind her back.

  “You’re hurting me!”

  “Give me the damn needle,” he demanded between clenched teeth.

  The struggle was brief. Nathan squeezed her wrist and took the syringe, then pushed her to the other side of the unit so that he now stood in front of the door. For several long seconds he looked at her, his intense gaze piercing her soul, his hooded eyes unreadable. Her eyes darted around, looking for a way to get by him and escape. There was none.

  Nathan removed a handkerchief from his pocket, wrapped it around the syringe, and continued to hold it as he leaned against the door. His expression softened, and when he next spoke it was casual, friendly, as if shooting the breeze with a friend.

  “Before meeting you, I’d rarely been sick a day in my life. Lived in Atlanta for years, and Chicago before that. Experienced my share of cold weather filled with ice, rain, and snow. But cold? Flu?” He shook his head. “Almost never. Since moving south, I honestly can’t remember having to take off work for illness.

  “And then all of a sudden I come down with something terrible, I mean it felt like I was going to die! You were so helpful then, so kind and loving. I thought, wow, what a woman.”

  His eyes flashed anger. His voice—unruffled.

  “Sherri implored me to get tests taken, just like the doctor had, remember? But I, like you, felt that it was just a stomach ailment, some flu-like sickness that would soon go away. Only it didn’t. It kept getting worse. I couldn’t understand it, kept thinking ‘what the heck is wrong with me?’ Then, little by little, this impossible scenario started coming together. Of course I couldn’t believe it possible. My fiancée poisoning me? Never.”

  “Baby, no! I would never—”

  “Shut. Up! I have never hit a woman, but I swear if you deny this shit one more time, you might get knocked the fuck out.”

  The statement hung in the air like the noose on a gallows. Wobbly legs no longer able to hold her, Jessica plopped down on the dolly and stared at the floor.

  “This nagging thought persisted. All that antifreeze you had under the sink, and stumbling onto one very interesting receipt, for antifreeze no less, when I searched for a screwdriver. You’d said it was purchased a long time ago, but the receipt showed otherwise. That’s the first time it clicked in my mind that something was off. Something wasn’t right. I thought, ‘Why would she lie about buying something for her car?’ Then, when you kept insisting I drink orange juice like water and kept bringing me large amounts of soup and soda, the thought got louder. It wouldn’t go away. So at the next opportunity, I snuck a peek at your browser search history, just knowing I wouldn’t find anything, right? But I’ll be damned if I didn’t see searches for poisons and how to poison using antifreeze, arsenic, and all kinds of other bullshit. So I called my brother-in-law the scientist, and asked a few questions. He suggested I contact his boy James, a medical doctor. I did, and afterwards sent him samples from the orange juice, the soda, and that abominable soup that I forced myself to eat just because your non-cooking ass fixed it. He confirmed what I otherwise would never have believed.”

  Jessica raised her head. “But if you knew, why’d you keep drinking what I gave you?”

  “I made you think I was drinking it, would hold the cup or glass to my lips, but after what the doctor found out, I never took another sip or bite of anything that came from your hand. You’d leave the room, and I’d toss most of whatever was in the glass so you’d think I drank it. When in bed, I had a trash can on the far side where I’d dump everything you brought me.

  “When I first found out, I was so angry and confused that I didn’t know what to do. My initial thought was to confront you and then kick you out of my life. But curiosity got the best of me. Why was she doing this? That’s the question that kept going around in my mind. That’s why I kept up the farce, to get more information. I kept sending samples to the doctor, who said the dosages were now at dangerously lethal levels. I was like ‘Got-damn, she wants my ass dead, quick!’ So last week, when we were at the restaurant making up”—he used air quotes—“and you poured whatever that s
hit was into my cup, I knew it was time to stop this madness before you succeeded in actually taking me out.” She hid her shock this time . . . almost. “Oh, didn’t know I saw that, huh? My going to the bathroom was just an excuse to leave you alone, and watch what happened. I turned the corner but didn’t keep going, which you didn’t notice because, hey, you were busy yourself. You were seated and the partition is low. So it was easy to take a picture which, once I had it blown up, clearly shows some type of vial in your hand, the contents of which you poured in my drink.”

  Her gaze slowly moved from the floor to his face. Anger flared in her eyes. “Putting something in your drink doesn’t prove anything. I say it was agave or maple syrup or something you asked me to add for you. My word against yours. So what?”

  “I thought of that, which is why when I stayed behind to leave the tip, I took the cup and sent it off for testing.” He spared a brief, lethal smile. “Baby, maple syrup isn’t what the lab technicians found.” His expression hardened. “With the doctor’s reports, preserved samples and lab results, the receipt that I copied, and dated cell phone pictures of everything from your refrigerator contents to the browser history that got this party started, there’s more than enough evidence for an arrest. That’s why we’re here.”

  The thought of being incarcerated reenergized Jessica, fired her up. She jumped to her feet, her face twisted in a scowl.

  “Arrest? For what, some ridiculous story you’ve made up in your head? I didn’t do any of what you’re suggesting, and even if I did, there’s no way you can prove it. You were angry about Vincent, and planted all of this evidence,”—she mocked him by using air quotes as he’d done earlier—“just to take me away from the man who took me from you. It would be your word against mine. So now that I know how little you think of me”—she pulled off the engagement ring and dropped it on the concrete floor—“consider us finished. You need to let me out of here and you can find another way to get back home.”

  “Didn’t figure on having to give me a ride back, huh?”

  She pulled out her phone. “If you don’t let me out, I’m going to call the police.”

  “I’ve saved you the trouble. They’re already here.” He opened the door. His friend Ralph, along with two uniformed officers, stood just outside.

  The taller and seemingly older of the two officers stepped forward and removed the handcuffs from his belt. “Jessica Bolton, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Nathan Carver.”

  He reached for her arm. She jumped back, slid around them and began running down the hall. Bypassing the elevator, she entered the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. She’d reached the second floor before the younger officer caught up with her, wrestled a kicking, biting, screaming, writhing Jessica to the floor, and threw on the handcuffs.

  Nathan, Ralph, and the other officer arrived just as he was lifting her to a standing position.

  “Not a good move,” the older officer told her. “You’ve just added resisting arrest to the other charges.”

  “That’s just it! There shouldn’t be any charges! You have no right to arrest me simply based on something he said. He’s lying!”

  The senior officer motioned to the staircase. “Take her to the car.”

  Even with her hands behind her back and a steel grip on her arm, Jessica tried to wrestle free. “No! Nathan, stop them!”

  Nathan did not look at her, and didn’t say a word. Once they were out of earshot he pulled what looked like an ordinary pen from his pocket and gave it to Ralph. “I hope this worked as good as you promised.”

  Ralph took the pen, twisted the bottom for a few seconds and then clicked the cap. Jessica’s screams for Nathan to stop the arrest came through loud and clear.

  “Impressive.” Nathan turned to the senior officer. “What happens now?”

  “She’ll be booked into county jail and bail will be set. On Monday, she’ll go before the judge and be formally charged.” The senior officer looked from Nathan to Ralph.

  “Thanks, man,” Ralph said, holding out his hand. They shook.

  “No problem,” the officer responded. “You’ve helped me out of many binds. Glad to be able to return the favor.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  The officer nodded at Ralph, shook Nathan’s hand, and continued down the stairwell. The two men listened as his heavy shoes reverberated against the steel steps. Soon they faded and were gone.

  Nathan let out a relieved sigh. Ralph placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. The silence was welcome, as Nathan tried to process what had just occurred. Finally, in an effort to gather himself, he ran a hand over his face and quickly rubbed his hands together.

  “I see the tracking device worked.”

  Ralph nodded. “We set out as soon as you texted me and the app we placed on your phone led us directly to the unit’s door. I’d say we were there long enough to hear at least half of the conversation between you.”

  “That pen recorder caught what you missed. I tell you one thing, when I heard you’d returned to Atlanta and were now a detective, I never thought I’d be needing your services.”

  “I told you business was booming.”

  “I guess you didn’t lie.”

  “I’m just sorry that this happened.”

  Nathan shook his head. “I have no words.”

  “Why do you think she did it?”

  Nathan paused as the words from Jessica’s tearful confession rang in his ears, the one she uttered just before she was getting ready to give him what was probably a shot of something fatal. His eyes narrowed, and once again his countenance changed. “I don’t know, Ralph. But I’m definitely going to find out.”

  “I’ll be right here to help you, man, starting with giving you a ride back to the city. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 45

  For Nathan, the next twenty-four hours were a blur. On the way home, he remembered his car was at Jessica’s house. Ralph dropped him off at Jessica’s complex. Once back home he took a long shower, put on a pair of sweats, and went to his office. There he initiated a conference call between him, Sherri, Randall, and Renee. No way did he want to tell this story twice.

  “I knew there was something about her.” Throughout Nathan’s narration, Sherri repeated this phrase. “Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I say there was something about that girl that I didn’t like? I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I told you. I told you!”

  Nathan let her vent. She was right, after all.

  As if she and Sherri were a tag team, Renee took up the conversation where Sherri had left it. “I hate to say it, bro, but that was my initial gut feeling, too.”

  “Yes, Renee. I vividly remember the conversation.”

  “Sherri never trusted her,” Randall chimed in. “Said she was sneaky, couldn’t look her in the eye, but that’s some straight-up drama, TV-movie shit right there. Poisoning with arsenic and antifreeze? I didn’t think that happened in real life.”

  “And because of what?” Sherri asked. “You’d given her a ring. She was engaged to you, for goodness’ sake. What the heck else did she want?”

  “I don’t know.” Nathan’s voice was laced with fatigue. “That’s the confusing part.”

  “She never gave you a sign of anything being wrong, never mentioned something that made her uncomfortable?”

  “Not uncomfortable enough to want to kill me!”

  “Nathan.”

  “Yes, Renee?”

  “What about a big argument, or fight? Maybe you pissed her off about something and didn’t know how upset the sistah truly was.”

  “The most we’ve ever fought about was Dev, with whom she believed I was having sex. But she began spiking my juice long before that.”

  “She did leave the Bahamas early,” Sherri reminded him.

  “Yes, but after a few conversations when we met back up, nothing more was said about that. She even agreed with me that all of us could have handled that situation differently
.”

  “Damn.” Randall voiced everyone’s feeling. “Is somebody pouring crazy in the water? Last year it was Jacqueline. Now a chick named Jessica has lost her mind.”

  “Maybe it’s the letter J. Nathan, don’t date anyone again whose name starts with that letter. Try a letter that will ensure you get someone incredible, like an R, for instance.”

  “Renee, I knew where you were headed!” Nate experienced his first real smile all day.

  “Can’t pass up an opportunity to plug myself.”

  “Randall, I can’t believe all you knew. We need to have a serious conversation.”

  “Sis, please don’t dog out Randall for not telling you about this. I made him swear not to tell you. I wanted proof that there was need to worry, and after I got proof, I wanted to know why she was doing it.”

  “And you still don’t know.”

  “Not yet. But I will.”

  After an hour of discussion, Nathan was no closer to understanding Jessica’s actions than when he’d first called. He thanked them for listening and promised to keep them posted.

  Later that evening, Ralph called.

  “Hey, Ralph. What’s going on?”

  “First of all, how are you holding up?”

  “Hanging in there.”

  “Good. I do have news for you.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “As you know, Jessica’s belongings were taken upon her booking into county jail. During this process, I discovered that she was in possession of two cell phones, a silver one and a black one. Were you aware of this?”

  “I’ve never seen her with a black phone, only silver.”

  “Now, that in and of itself is not altogether unusual, but considering the circumstances, I felt it warranted further investigation. So I checked the call logs. The silver phone was clearly her main mode of communication. Your number appeared many times.

  “There was only one number on the black phone. I wrote it down, along with a few other numbers from the silver phone. I want you to take a look at them; see if we can get to the reason behind her actions.”

 

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