Joslyn (Women of Privilege Book 3)

by Bridget Bundy

  “What about Gia?”

  “What about her?”

  “You can go see her. I set up a meeting between you two. My lawyer spoke to her lawyer, and tomorrow first thing in the morning you can go to the prison.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  “I had to pull a lot of strings,” Charli says with an attitude.

  “Then un-pull them. I’m not interested in seeing her.”

  “Joslyn, if I were you-”

  “YOU’RE NOT…me!” I snap at her.

  Charli is shocked by my reaction.

  In a much calmer voice, I continue, “I don’t want your help anymore, Charli. I want you to leave now.”

  I can’t do this with her. I don’t care who she is or what she thinks her heritage entitles her to. She doesn’t have the right to come first before my family. Whatever agenda she thinks she has ends tonight.

  “Well,” she says uncomfortably. “Are you sure you want me to leave, Joslyn?”

  “Pretty sure,” I flat-out remark.

  “Joslyn, just yesterday you were convinced that Gia Briggs and Joshua Davis were somehow connected to Davian’s disappearance. You told me this yourself. You came to my house begging me for my help.”

  “I made a mistake, and I won’t be doing it again.” That statement speaks volumes beyond its true meaning, and she knows it. “You can go now.”

  Charli can’t believe I said that to her. I cross my arms, indicating I meant it.

  “Alright,” she says. “But before I go, there’s a couple of things I need to tell you. Actually, they are the real reason why I came by.”

  And here it is. The moment when she thinks she’s about to put me in my place. Charli is highly pissed off; the narrowed eyes, the tense lean on one leg, and the slight uplift of her chin. She doesn’t like nor appreciate anyone disrespecting her in any way. In her mind, she’s to be treated like a queen at all times. With me telling her to get out of my house, that’s a clear slap in the face, a show of disrespect. Think I care at this point? Nope.

  “All of the reporters that are camped outside of this house will be gone by tomorrow morning,” she says. “I’ll be revoking their access. Hope it doesn’t put you in a bind when it comes to finding your son. I know the press can be quite valuable when it comes to missing children.”

  Does she think she’s hurting me? I wanted the reporters gone a long time ago. “That’s fine with me,” I answer with zero interest.

  “And tomorrow I will need you to stop by the clubhouse. Two of the tenants have broken some very serious rules, and I need you to hand out the fines. You’re not dead. So, duties calls and that means you still have work to do.”

  “There are no tenants in this neighborhood, only homeowners, and I won’t be available tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll find someone else or you’ll do it yourself.”

  A look of a thousand daggers stab at me. It’s official. Charli and I are adversaries, but I don’t care. She turns and leave.

  How quickly the dynamics have changed for me in Tudor Estates. One bad conversation with the queen, and I’m blacklisted, no longer in the exclusive tight circle of Charli Love and her friends. Doesn’t matter my family situation, doesn’t matter I could lose my son permanently. What matters to Charli is Charli and how she’s treated.

  I’m relieved to be detached, actually. She wasn’t a real friend, not in any sense of the word, and she really wasn’t trying to help me find my son. All she was trying to do was entertain herself at the expense of my pain. A double barrel shotgun to my face, and I’m sure she thought it was hilarious. Being chased out of the Briggs’s home? A comedy show to her. Look at Joslyn run! Doesn’t she look stupid? Oh look, she’s about to die. I hope they show that part on television. Yes, Charli is that cold-hearted. I used to remain close to her so I wouldn’t have to suffer her wrath. I’ve seen the pain she caused to other people. Entire families had to move out of Tudor because she made their lives hell with rumors and ridicule and steep fines for anything and everything possible. I made sure to stay close so I wouldn’t be the focus. I was afraid of the power she held in this community. I was afraid of her.

  Now, I can truly say that I’m not anymore. Free from Charli Love, free from standing on the razor’s edge, and the chance of being cut by her hate or by her fake concern. The difficult responsibility of being her friend is no longer my burden to bear. Her interference, her million dollar opinions, her essence demands no more of my attention. And I am so glad.

  “Good for you,” Jackie says, appearing in the door to the kitchen.

  We smile at one another, and she keeps going in the direction of the library.

  I join my kids on the sofa to watch a movie that I’ve seen a thousand times with them and can fairly well recite every line. The small things that count. This is what I live for.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The next morning, the kids and I are back at the hospital first thing. I lay down some ground rules about volume control and behavior before going inside. Of course, I will be saying it again because my instructions don’t always sink in the first time, but that’s okay. I have their father to back me up.

  When we reach his room, Oliver is walking out. He does take a moment to speak to the children, but he doesn’t say a word to me. I keep right on going by him. Terrence and Harlan are talking, and just for a split second, Terrence and I make eye contact. I know what that’s all about, but I’m not going to say a word about my activities the past couple of days unless Harlan brings it up.

  “Honey,” I remark, while giving Harlan a kiss. “How are you doing?”

  “I feel good. Doc said I might be getting out tomorrow morning. Couple of more tests, waiting on results on a few. So far so good.”

  “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”

  He smiles, and our lips touch again. The kids do their little ‘ew song,’ and I wave them off.

  “Ya’ll act like ya’ll just met,” Terrence says with a chuckle.

  “Feels that way,” Harlan says, winking at me. My world right in front of me. So glad he’s out of his coma. So happy to see his big brown eyes.

  My cell phone begins to vibrate in my purse, taking my attention away from what’s important. I shuffle through old receipts and bring it out. Charli is calling. Of course, she would be. I bet she’s wondering when I’ll be at the clubhouse. Even after our standoff last night, that woman still believes I’m going to come running to her and ask for forgiveness. I know that’s what she thinks, but I’m truly done with her.

  “Who’s that?” Harlan asks.

  I show him the phone, and he rolls his eyes. I make a show to drop the phone in my purse, not even bothering to disconnect the call. She can leave a message if she wants. I won’t be listening to it, anyway.

  “Something wrong with you and Charli?” he asks.

  “Something’s wrong with her,” I reply with a smile.

  Harlan nods and glances at Terrence. They share a silent, quick conversation.

  “What?” I ask, grabbing Harlan’s hand.

  “I hear you’ve been busy the past couple of days.”

  Should have known Harlan would bring it up so quickly. I look to Terrence. He scratches his forehead and looks away.

  “I’m sure you did,” I reply.

  “Terrence, do you mind taking the kids out and getting them ice cream?” Harlan says.

  “I love ice cream!” Janae sings with excitement.

  “Dad, are you hiding something from us?” Kale asks smartly.

  “Go on with Uncle Terrence,” I remark. “Stop asking questions.”

  Kale moans his disapproval.

  “Alright,” Terrence says, heading for the door. “Ice cream is on me.”

  Kristina rolls her eyes and leads the way. Once the kids are gone, Harlan turns his attention to me. I’m expecting to see anger, but he’s not mad. Actually, he gives me a disapproving look.

  “Joslyn, what were you trying to do by going to tho
se people’s houses? You and Terrence could have been killed.”

  “I thought I could find Davian. I thought they were involved.”

  “Why would you think that? Did the cops tell you they were?”

  “No, they didn’t tell me. I just thought that Joshua Davis and Gia had something to do with it.”

  “Joshua Davis is dead. Did you forget already?”

  “No, I didn’t forget. Okay, I realize it was a bad idea after I almost got killed. I won’t be doing that again.”

  “No, you won’t. From now on, we let the police handle the case, and we will do whatever it is they need us to do.”

  “Already made that decision, Harlan.”

  “Good,” he says.

  “Who told you, by the way?”

  “My dad, and he also tried to put the kidnapping on you.”

  “You didn’t believe him, did you?”

  “You know better, Joslyn. I wasn’t trying to hear it. He’s always telling lies.”

  “Harlan, why does your father stay away from us? I don’t understand what we’ve done to him.”

  “It’s him, and don’t worry about it.”

  “What is it about him? Is something wrong?”

  “Joslyn, I said don’t worry about it. Let it go, please.”

  We’re quiet, staring each other down.

  I can’t stand it. “Harlan, we don’t keep secrets from each other. That’s not what we do.”

  “You’re right. We don’t, but my dad’s problems are not part of this family.” He shifts uneasily, releasing my hand. “And we’re not going to talk about it…ever.”

  Hiding information from me only makes me more curious, but I won’t keep hounding Harlan about his father. He’s already aggravated, and I don’t want to make him angrier. We move on to a much different and lighter note. We talk about everything from the kids, his job, our gasoline soaked house on Privilege Place, and back again. Another little simple thing in life that I missed. My conversations with my husband, our shared interests. The chats come so easily and for a while, everything seems to be okay. But right under the surface, it’s not. Really, it’s not at all.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The morning ticks by slowly, and during that time, I try to contact the detectives with no success. I’m really beginning to think they’re avoiding us. I call Jackie, hoping she can tell me if they’ve called her, but after the second phone call I realize she won’t be able to answer. She’s in court, and she isn’t allowed to have her phone on, not even for text messages.

  By noon, the detectives show up. I’m actually surprised to see them, but I’m angry because they haven’t kept in contact all morning long. I don’t understand what in the world they could’ve been doing.

  Both have grim looks. My heart is killing my chest. I’m on the brink of panic. Harlan is sitting up in bed, anxiously waiting for them to spill what they have to say. I ask Terrence to take the kids into the hallway. If it’s bad news, which no doubt it is from their expressions, I don’t want the kids hearing it from the police. Harlan and I will talk to them alone after the detectives are gone.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery,” Detective Sawyer begins. “We found Allison James.”

  I brace myself. I’m ready. No, I’m not ready.

  “She was in a car accident on the Fourth of July on Highway 16.”

  “On Interstate Highway 16?” I blurt out. “I was on that very road, on my way to see Lucy Davis, and I was stuck in that traffic leading up to the accident. But I never did see it because I got off at the exit to Meldrim.”

  “A truck driver fell asleep while driving,” she continues solemnly. “Three people ended up dying from their injuries, including Miss James.”

  “What about Dave?” Harlan asks. “Was our son in the car?”

  Detective Sawyer comes closer and says, “No, he wasn’t.”

  I sit down beside Harlan, letting go an air of relief. “Thank God.”

  “His Atlanta Braves baseball cap was found in her car,” Detective Sawyer adds, “along with your cell phone, Mr. Montgomery.”

  Harlan lowers his head. “That means she never got our message. She was already dead.”

  The detectives don’t answer, but they watch us with sadness.

  “What about the guy with the dreadlocks?” I ask. “Was he in the car?”

  “It was just Miss James and the baby.”

  “The baby?” I ask, truly hoping the child made it.

  “A broken arm,” Detective Sawyer answers, understanding my concern. “A few scratches on her face, but she survived.”

  I nod, happy to hear it.

  “How did you find out that she died in the car accident?” Harlan ask harshly.

  Detective Richardson finally chimes in. “We got a call this morning from an officer that was in charge of the investigation at the accident.”

  “So what took you so long to contact us?” Harlan is getting more aggravated.

  “We were doing another search of her car for more evidence,” Detective Richardson says. “We already had the baseball cap, but we didn’t have confirmation that was your cell phone yet. So, I wanted to be absolutely certain that was the car Davian was in when he was kidnapped before coming to you.”

  “Okay, so was there any other information in the car that might have indicated where Allison James has been?” Harlan asks.

  Detective Richardson calmly answers, “Nothing else was found.”

  “What happens now?” I ask anxiously.

  “We continue working this case,” Detective Sawyer answers. “Just because Miss James is gone, doesn’t mean we stop.”

  I’m glad to hear it, and I nod with agreement.

  “But there is something else we need for you guys to do,” Detective Richardson adds.

  “Name it,” I reply.

  “We need to offer the reward to the public. The same amount if not more.”

  “When can it be done?” Harlan asks.

  “We’ll have Lieutenant Hughes make the official announcement within the hour,” Detective Richardson says. “We already got tip-lines set up at the station, and we’ll add officers. I’m sure with that much money on the table, we’ll got a lot more phone calls.”

  “How certain are you this will work?” I ask.

  “We’re not,” Detective Sawyer says.

  “I find it hard to believe that no one has spotted that guy with dreadlocks by now,” Harlan says.

  “Maybe, he was spotted, but people may not be aware of who he is,” Detective Richardson responds.

  “What exactly have you been doing to find that guy, anyway? There aren’t a ton of black men with dreads in Savannah, Georgia. He should have been found by now.”

  “Mr. Montgomery, we’ve spoken to every male and female friend we could find of Allison James. None of them matched the description, and no one knew or was willing to tell us if she was seeing a guy with dreads.”

  “Well, you need to go back and make those people talk, Detective Richardson. Make them tell you who this guy is. I’m willing to bet my life one of them knows.”

  Detective Richardson exhales heavily and nods. “Mr. Montgomery, we are doing our best.”

  I think he said that only to placate Harlan, but every single one of us know that doing their best is not good enough when they’re not getting results. I don’t know what else they need to do. I don’t know what else they can do, honestly.

  “We need to get going,” Detective Sawyer says.

  “The reward announcement will be made within the hour,” Detective Richardson remarks. “I’ll call you before it goes live.”

  “Thank you,” I reply.

  The detectives quickly walk out, leaving me and Harlan to process the bad news. We hug, trying to find comfort in one another. All I can do now is wonder what our future will become. What will happen to this family if Davian is lost to us for good? How will the children react to such a huge loss? God, how will I survive if he’s gone? Nothing w
ill ever be the same. I just hope Allison James wasn’t our only and last chance at finding our son.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Jeremiah and Sarah arrive in the mid-afternoon. She has a plate of food with her, knowing full well she shouldn’t be bringing anything like that in the hospital. I don’t fuss at her, but Harlan does. She explains to him it’s something dealing with paleo. The whole little argument continues on with Harlan complaining about wanting a hamburger and fries. I take that opportunity to pull Terrence in the hallway for a private chat.

  He knows something is up, and he gives me an ‘I-don’t-trust-you’ look with raised eyebrows. “I’m not going to that girl’s house, and you’re not, either.”

  “What are you talking about, Terrence?”

  “You want to see Allison James’s parents, right? How did you get the address?”

  “No,” I remark, pulling him farther away from the door. “That’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”

  “But you’re still up to something.”

  “What’s going on with your dad?”

  Terrence stares at me for a while, trying to see if I’m for real about my question.

  “I’m serious,” I reply. “Is there something wrong with him?”

  “My dad,” Terrence says with a sigh. “I rather not talk about him.”

  “Tell me why he doesn’t want to come over to our house anymore?”

  “I’m not going to tell you.”

  “Why not? What is the big deal? Did he kill someone?”

  “No, he didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Is he dangerous?”

  Terrence tries to walk away, but I grab his arm.

  “I don’t like secrets. We are family, and I want to know what’s wrong with your dad.”

  “Ask Harlan.”

  “He doesn’t want to talk about it…ever.”

  Terrence blows with sealed lips.

  “It’s not right that you and Harlan are keeping this from me.”

  “Doesn’t matter what you think. He’s not your dad.” Terrence unhooks my fingers from around his arm.