by Alice Ward
Victor pushed his chair away from the table and motioned for Ethan to join him. “Let’s have a glass of brandy in the library. I ordered a box of Cubans the moment the embargo was lifted and they just arrived this morning.”
Ethan stood and threw a questioning glance my direction. I gave him a slight nod, letting him know I could hold my own with his mother.
“Men will be men,” Marsha sang as they left the room. She moved to the nearby buffet and poured herself another cocktail.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like something a little stronger?”
“I’m sure,” I replied. “I prefer not to drink on school nights.”
She nodded and returned to her chair. “But that will all change soon, right? I can’t imagine you’d keep teaching once you’re married to my son.”
“I love what I do, Mrs. Montez. I don’t plan to give up my career after I’m married.”
“With all due respect dear, I’m not sure corralling snot-nosed children for twenty-two thousand dollars a year quite counts as a career. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t give that up to stay at home and dote on Ethan.”
“First of all, my children aren’t snot-nosed,” I countered, trying and failing to keep calm. “And I’d never give up teaching, just like Ethan won’t give up football. You know better than anyone that he could afford not to work. He does it because he feels driven to.”
“And you’re the same way?” she pressed, her voice thick with doubt.
“Yes, I am. Mrs. Montez, I’m not a gold digger, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. I don’t need extravagant things. If I did, I’d have chosen a different profession and earned the extravagant things myself. I understand why you have your doubts. Ethan and I haven’t known each other that long, and our relationship has gotten very serious, very quickly. But I’m with him because I love him, no other reason.”
She looked at me, thoroughly amused. “That was a beautiful speech, darling. Tell me, was it your passion for the children that made you turn your back on that poor little boy until he was nearly dead?”
Her stabbing words cut through my last remaining ounce of self-control and I let my mouth fly without thinking. “Don’t you ever mention that child to me again,” I snarled. “How dare you? I’ve been sitting here all night biting my tongue because you’re Ethan’s mother and this is your house. But you just crossed the line. I know what you did, Marsha. And I’m going to prove it if it’s the last thing I do.”
Exaggerated shock washed over Marsha’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yes, you do. I know that you sent your niece to the school to figure out where my classroom was.”
“My niece?” she asked, still pretending to be confused. Her refusal to admit what she’d done fanned the flames of my rage.
“I know why you did it too,” I continued. “Ethan gave me the whole sick explanation. You have the gall to sit there and insinuate that I’m with Ethan for money. And the whole time you’re the one pulling strings and threatening children, all to make sure you inherit the bulk of Victor’s estate. Does your husband understand the lengths you’ve gone to to keep your hands on his cash? Or does he just do whatever you ask to keep you out of his face?”
“I knew you weren’t as sweet and innocent as Ethan wanted us to believe,” Marsha hissed. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Emily. I haven’t threatened anyone. I’m simply trying to ensure my son’s future happiness. And I’m quite certain he could never be happy with you. After the way you’ve spoken to me tonight, I’m even more determined to keep you away from my son.” She stood and pointed to the door. “Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll let Ethan know you’re waiting outside.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Geez, kiddo. That woman sounds like a real piece of work. Do you really think she was behind Alfie’s incident?” Uncle Walt asked.
I stabbed a bite of salad from my bowl and nodded. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Walt. I haven’t figured out how Marsha knew about Alfie and his allergies. But I’m convinced she’s the one who sent those people to the school. I just don’t know how to prove it.”
I shoveled the ranch soaked lettuce into my mouth while Walt chased a mouthful of his BLT with iced tea.
“Is there any chance that PI of yours did any digging into the family’s past?” I asked after I swallowed.
He shook his head. “No. But I’ll have him get started on it asap. Honey, does Ethan know that you think his mother did this?”
“No,” I confessed. “I told him that Marsha and I had gotten into an argument over the wedding, and that’s why she kicked me out. I know he claims not to feel anything for her, but she’s still his mother. I don’t want to make any accusations until I have hard evidence to back them up. Anything less could just put too much stress on our relationship.”
“More stress than keeping the secret?” he pressed.
“Believe me, I’ve weighed all of my options. I want to be wrong, Walt. I love Ethan and in an ideal world, his family would eventually accept me. My gut tells me Marsha is guilty. But if I’m wrong, it would make for unnecessary drama for the rest of my life.”
“I agree with you. I’ll call the investigator as soon as we leave here. Aside from your horrendous night at Montez Manor, how’s life been going?”
“Fantastic. Being back at school feels so good. And everyone there has been so supportive. But everyone’s still a little on edge. We’ll all breathe a lot easier when we’re sure the school is safe again.”
“Have the police kept you up to date with their investigation?”
“Nope. I talked to Frank this morning. He said he’d call Nelson and ask if they’ve made any progress.”
My phone chimed and we both looked down at it expectantly. “Is that him?” Walt asked.
I read the number and shook my head. “I don’t recognize the number. It’s probably another reporter. Since Ethan and I announced our engagement, the phone’s been ringing off the hook.” I silenced the ringer and took another bite of my lunch.
“Speaking of engagements, have you and Ethan set a date?”
“Not yet. I’d like to have the wedding over the summer so I won’t have to juggle planning and work. Ethan’s talking about staying with the Stallions for another season, now that Victor’s stopped throwing threats around.”
“Do you have to invite them to the wedding?” Walt asked with exaggerated horror. “I’m not sure I can stomach them after everything you’d told me.”
“If I’m right about Marsha, that won’t be an issue,” I reminded him.
My phone rang again; this time, it was Frank.
“Maybe he learned something.” I answered the call and activated the speakerphone.
“Hi, Frank. Did you talk to Mr. Nelson?”
“Emily… no, I didn’t. Where are you right now?” he asked, his voice tense and pinched.
“We’re having lunch at Darla’s Café,” Walt answered for me. “What’s going on, Frank. Have the police found something else connecting Emily to the Hollis case?”
“Walt, thank God you’re there. No, this is unrelated to the Hollis case. I don’t want either of you to panic. I’m still not exactly sure what’s going on, but I think you should get down to the North Portland Police Station. I was just there on a pro bono case… Ethan was brought in.”
“Ethan was arrested?” I gasped.
“Yes. I’m not sure why. I’ve put in calls to everyone I know, but no one’s gotten back to me. I’ve thought about it, and I’m turning around and going back to the station. I’ll tell the cops I’m Ethan’s counsel. If his family’s lawyers aren’t there yet, I’ll have some time alone with him before they show up and boot me out.”
“We’re heading there right now,” Walt told him. He laid two twenties on the table, more than enough to cover our salads and teas. We raced out of the café, still on the line with Frank.
“Wait for me on the be
nches in the south atrium,” Frank instructed. “I’ll meet you there as soon as I’ve learned something.”
“Will do, Frank. Thank you for letting us know,” Walt replied.
I ended the call and Uncle Walt opened the passenger door of his black Charger. “Don’t panic, kiddo. I’m sure this is all some sort of misunderstanding.”
He slid behind the steering wheel and navigated the car into traffic.
“I missed eight calls while we were talking to Frank,” I told him, lifting my phone. “Four numbers I don’t recognize and four unknowns. What do you want to bet there are reporters all over the city who know more about what’s happening right now than I do? I’m going to google Ethan and see what the hell’s going on.”
“Don’t do it, Emily,” Walt insisted. “I mean it. I’ll pull this car over and take your phone away. You just had a firsthand lesson in the way the media bends the truth. Anything you find online will be sensationalized versions of the facts. Reading them will just make you feel worse.”
I knew he was right, but I was desperate to know why Ethan had been arrested.
“It feels like the nightmare is starting all over again. Only this time, Ethan and I have reversed roles.”
“Why don’t you call Melissa?” Walt suggested. “She may be able to shed light on things and she won’t add a bunch of hearsay and suppositions.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”
I hit Melissa’s speed dial and she answered halfway through the first ring.
“Emily,” she exhaled my name and I knew she’d been expecting and dreading my call.
“Frank just called and told me Ethan’s been arrested. Walt and I are on the way to the precinct.”
“How much do you know?” she asked, her voice hesitant with caution.
“That’s it. I’ve ignored a bunch of calls that I can only assume were from reporters and I haven’t looked online. How much do you know?”
“Late last week, someone called the league’s commissioner with an anonymous tip that several players on the Stallions have been doping. The league’s medical team showed up at the stadium this morning and surprise tested all of the players. Ethan didn’t pass.”
“He was arrested for doping?” The words felt strange in my mouth.
Uncle Walt was so caught off guard he nearly swerved into oncoming traffic.
“Not exactly. Victor was in the locker room when they confronted Ethan with the results. Ethan got a few punches in and Victor had him arrested for assault.”
I knew it. Ethan got too cocky and thought he was too invaluable to the team for Victor to touch.
“Ethan doesn’t use steroids,” I insisted. “There’s an easy fix for this. As soon as he’s released on bail, we’ll go to an independent lab and he’ll take another test.”
“I’m not sure it will be that easy, Em,” she warned. “The league will want to verify any retests themselves. And the blood test isn’t Ethan’s only problem. The league doctors and half the team just saw him beat the shit out of his stepfather. One of my colleagues has already done an on-camera interview with Victor. He has a busted lip and his right eye is swollen shut. It’s not going to make Ethan look good… Oh shit, Emily. My boss wants me. I’ll talk to you soon. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks for filling me in. I’ll call you when we leave the station.”
“Ethan was arrested for steroids?” Walt asked.
I turned my phone off and slid it into my purse. “No, Ethan was framed for using steroids. When he found out, he beat the crap out of Victor in a locker room full of people.”
Walt winced but kept his eyes on the road. “That wasn’t the best way to react. Though I have to admit, I probably would have done the same in those circumstances. So he was arrested for assault?”
I nodded. “I’m sure he’s also been fired. Victor orchestrated the perfect plot to get rid of him. He’ll probably be lucky to ever set foot on a football field again.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Walt advised. “I know this seems insurmountable right now, kiddo. But people have forgiven much less deserving athletes for a lot more serious offenses.”
“Ethan doesn’t deserve this.”
“You didn’t deserve what happened to you, either. Neither did little Alfie. Neither of us deserved to lose your parents, and they didn’t deserve to die young. Shit happens every day to people who don’t deserve it, Emily. We can sit here and talk about how unfair it is, or we can focus on playing the hands we’ve been dealt. I for one will be choosing the latter. As soon as we get to the station, I’m calling the investigator and putting him to work investigating Victor, Marsha, and Heather Montez. I’m also going to call a few of my Air Marshal friends. One of them might have a friend in Homeland Security who could help us. I know the family is on the government’s radar.”
“You’re right. This isn’t fair, but focusing on that won’t solve any of our problems. Forget what I said back at the café. As soon as I have a chance, I’m going to tell Ethan that I think his mom set me up at the school. Victor may have set him up, but it was on Marsha’s orders. She’s trying to take us both down and if we have any hope of stopping her, we have to work together.”
“Now that sounds more like the girl I raised,” Walt declared with a proud smile.
“My life is still in upheaval, Walt. I’m not sure the smile is warranted.”
“I’m smiling because it just dawned on me that I won’t have to share holidays with your in-laws. I’ll get back to my grim scowl when my relief wears off,” he teased.
I smiled, despite my determination not to. “Now that you mention it, I’m pretty relieved about that too.”
Walt steered into the parking lot of the police station and we made our way to the south entrance. We stepped through the smudged double glass doors and paced the atrium until Frank finally appeared.
“What’s going on?” Walt demanded. “We’ve been here for nearly two hours. Were you with Ethan the whole time? Did his lawyer finally show up?”
“You’re looking at his lawyer.” Frank sighed. “Ethan called me not thirty seconds after I got off the phone with you. For obvious reasons, the family attorneys can’t represent him. I was so worried about getting the news to you, the conflict issue didn’t even cross my mind. Ethan asked me to represent him, and I agreed.”
“Will he have to stay in custody until Monday?” I asked. I doubted it was a coincidence that Victor set Ethan up to be arrested on a Saturday.
“No. I had to pull some strings, but I got a judge to hear the case and Ethan’s bail was set at fifty grand. He can bond out for five, we just need you to get the cash.”
“Where am I supposed to get that much cash when the banks are closed?” I demanded.
“Ethan’s sock drawer,” Frank replied without missing a beat. “He’d also appreciate a change of clothes and a pair of shoes. He’s still in his football pants and cleats. I’ve arranged for us to go directly to Portland General for another test once Ethan’s released.”
“Melissa said the league would want to verify any retests with their own doctors,” I told him.
“And that will be arranged,” he assured me. “Right now, it’s important to get a negative test documented. We’ll release the results to the public immediately to quell some of the media frenzy. You’ll probably be swarmed with reporters when you get to the house. You’re free to deal with them however you’d like.”
“I’ll talk to anyone who wants to listen. I’ll tell them all that Ethan’s innocent.”
“That’s not exactly the case,” Frank warned. “Ethan may be innocent of the steroid allegations. But he’s guilty of assault. We don’t have a defense, even if we prove Victor falsified his test results. The fact that Victor deserved an ass whooping didn’t make it legal for Ethan to give him one.”
“Is he going to serve time, Frank?” Walt asked.
“Not if I can help it. We’re wasting time. Walt, it’s probably best
if you go with Emily. I’m going to wait with Ethan. Call me if you run into any trouble,” he instructed.
“Same to you,” Walt replied.
“Tell Ethan we’ll be back as fast as we can,” I called over my shoulder as Walt and I headed for the door. “And Frank? Will you please tell him that I love him?”
“Will do, Emily.”
***
“Emily, Ethan, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been so worried about you,” Melissa said, stepping into Ethan’s living room. I hugged her and took her coat.
“Thanks for coming over. We have something we want to talk to you about,” I told her.
I joined Ethan on the sofa and Melissa took a seat in the armchair across from us.
“I take it this isn’t a social call?” she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Not exactly. But for now, it’s all off the record,” Ethan explained.
“I can’t wait to hear it. But first, how are you doing? I’m so sorry for the way you’re getting skewered in the news. It isn’t fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” I told her, remembering Walt’s words. “But you’re right, the press has been particularly brutal.”
When I returned to Ethan’s house for the bond money, I gave a statement to the reporters gathered outside. I assured them that Ethan was innocent of the doping charges and assured them the full story would soon come to light. Four hours later, Portland General released the results of Ethan’s retest: he tested negative for everything.
I’d hoped that would subdue Ethan’s critics, but it didn’t. The public trusted the league’s doctors and assumed Ethan had paid for his negative results. And as Victor pointed out to anyone who’d listen, Ethan had already proven he couldn’t control his violent temper. Wasn’t that one of the classic signs of steroid abuse? His plan worked perfectly and the country applauded him for firing such an uncontrollable monster.
It took me three days to convince Ethan to even talk to Melissa about going public with our side of the story. He kept insisting that he didn’t want to air his family drama for the world to see, assuring me that the truth would eventually come out. But that morning, one of the tabloids had run an old picture of me with a black eye. The picture was from my sophomore year of college, when I’d taken an elbow to the face during a particularly difficult volleyball match. But the paper didn’t explain that I’d been a victim of university mandated PE class. Their headline announced that Ethan McAlister was beating his fiancé. The moment Ethan saw it, he called Melissa himself.
