Deadly Deception

by London St Charles

  “How?” she asked, admiring the crib, changing table, and chest of drawers, all in a smooth white wooden finish. “When did you have the time to do this?”

  Jackson rubbed the back of his head. “I had some–––”

  “Uncle Steven helped us,” Jackie blurted out.

  “Did he?” Cadence remarked, angling a glance at her husband.

  “Me, Stevie Junior, and Amber picked out the animals,” Jackie boasted, swinging from side to side, and her blonde curly tresses followed.

  “You guys did a terrific job,” Cadence praised, walking over and opening the drawers. They were stocked with baby wipes, lotion, and butt cream. “I’m still in awe.”

  Jackson stepped behind Cadence, wrapping his arms around her chest, and kissed the spot behind her ear. A tingling warmth traveled from her hair follicles down to her lilac toenails that were in desperate need of a pedicure.

  Cadence turned her head to meet the tender lips that trailed her cheekbone. She closed her eyes as Jackson laid a lingering peck on her mouth.

  Click. Click. Click.

  “Oooooo, daddy,” Jackie snickered, leaning her head against Cadence’s side.

  Click. Click. Click.

  Cadence’s eyes opened, landing on Phylicia standing in the doorway with a camera lifted in front of her face.

  “Momma,” Cadence said, tilting her head, resting it on Jackson’s chest. “How long have you been taking pictures?”

  Phylicia lowered the camera in front of her bosom. “Long enough to capture all the special moments,” she replied, lifting the camera again. “Caden will know how much he’s loved from day one.”

  Click. Click. Click.

  “He’s gonna need to see his granny in some of these,” Cadence shot back. “Can’t you put that on a timer and hop in here with us?”

  “Sure can,” she said, propping the camera on the chest of drawers.

  The doorbell chimed the familiar tune of Beethoven 5th throughout the house.

  Phylicia turned, facing Cadence and Jackson. “Are y’all expecting anyone?”

  “No,” Jackson replied, then glanced at Cadence.

  “Definitely not,” she protested, rubbing her belly out of habit. “I wasn’t even sure I was getting discharged today. No one knows I’m home.”

  “Daddy,” Jackie yelled, her voice further away than it should be.

  Cadence was baffled. She hadn’t realized that Jackie had left the nursery.

  “Uncle Steven’s here.”

  Chapter 10

  “Hey Steven,” Jackson said, giving him a thorough once-over. “I’m surprised to see you.”

  “Sorry for dropping in unannounced,” he responded, stepping into the living room as Jackie dashed around him, looking out the door.

  “Where’s Stevie Junior and Amber?” she asked, moving to the window and peering under the bamboo blinds. “Why didn’t you bring them with you?”

  “They’re still at daycare.” Steven smiled, glancing over at his niece. “Maybe I’ll bring them by later if it’s okay with your dad.”

  Jackie stared at Jackson with expecting eyes.

  “Not today, sweetheart. Your mom just got home, and she needs rest.”

  “We’ll be quiet. I promise.”

  “Nice try, but another day,” Jackson said, and she sighed, scurrying to the back at the sound of Phylicia calling her name.

  “I didn’t know Cadence, and the baby were discharged.”

  “Just Cadence,” Jackson corrected, rubbing his chin. “Caden will be in the NICU for a few more weeks until he gets stronger.”

  “Don’t worry. Babies are resilient. He’s going to come out of there stronger than ever.”

  “Caden’s a fighter. He’s already proven that by surviving the accident,” Jackson said, making a tight fist and nodded, thinking about his baby boy. “We’re blessed. The pediatrician said he might have slight complications because of the early delivery, but I welcome all of it. The alternative would have been so much worse.”

  “True,” Steven agreed, digging in his coat pocket and plucking out the car keys. “We can do this at another time.” He turned on the soles of his sneakers toward the front door.

  “Hold up,” Jackson countered, grabbing his shoulder. “You didn’t come over here for no reason.”

  “I wanted to run something by you, but it can wait.”

  “Apparently not, if you made a special trip. What has you on edge?” Jackson asked, examining the worry lines in Steven’s forehead and the tightness in his jawbone. “I can see whatever it is has you disturbed by the stress in your face.”

  “Thank you so much for helping decorate the nursery. It’s beautiful,” Cadence called out as she walked into the room, causing the men to stop talking and turn in her direction.

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “Did I catch you two in the middle of something?” she asked, moving in closer.

  Steven appeared as if he’d been caught with his pants down behind the bleachers making out with a girl. His cheeks flushed pink, and his mouth opened, but no words were spoken. At that moment, Jackson knew that whatever Steven had to say, he didn’t want to say it in Cadence’s presence.

  “He came by to drop off the spare key I’d given him while we were working on the nursery,” Jackson lied, grabbing his house keys from the end table, then lifting a hoodie from the coat rack. “I’m going to walk Steven out.”

  “Welcome home,” Steven said, finally recovering from the temporary impairment. “Get as much rest as possible. Your days of sleeping through the night are numbered.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Cadence responded, trying to stifle a yawn. “I guess I need to get on that pronto.”

  The three of them chuckled.

  “Tell Jackie I said goodbye, and when you feel up to it, I’ll bring the kids over,” Steven said right before walking out of the door.

  Once they got to Steven’s car, Jackson glanced over and said, “Let’s go for a drive.”

  “Okay.”

  Jackson lowered into the two-seater, Adali G8, admiring the chrome and black leather interior. Adali vehicles smelled like money, and Steven’s sports model wasn’t any different.

  “This definitely isn’t the family car,” Jackson commented, grazing his fingers along the soft leather dashboard.

  “This is my baby, Vesta.” Steven grinned, rolling his palm over the steering wheel. “The only girl who gets as much attention as my wife, Deb, who by the way, can’t wait to meet your family.”

  “I feel you on that.”

  “One of the many perks of working for Adali Automotive.” Steven beamed, starting the vehicle with keyless ignition. “But I don’t have to tell you that.”

  Jackson fastened the seatbelt as Steven pulled away from the curb. Though he wanted to ask Steven why he came by, Jackson fought the instinct and gave him a chance to regain his nerve. Nothing like a drive to refocus a person’s thoughts.

  After ten minutes of driving down Pulaski Road, Steven turned down the radio and said, “I don’t think your car accident was an accident at all.

  Jackson wasn’t expecting to hear that.

  “I believed this when I visited Cadence in the hospital, but I couldn’t put that on her, especially after I learned she had the baby. And before you ask.” Steven raised his hand. “I didn’t say anything at the house while we were putting the nursery together because the children were always around. My kids are young and wouldn’t understand, but Jackie would, and she didn’t need to overhear that someone tried to kill her parents.”

  Jackson listened in silence as he absorbed the gravity of Steven’s words.

  “When I came to the hospital, squad cars and news crews from all the major stations flooded the parking lot. It was a spectacle. The police were keeping reporters from entering the building. Even ADA Knox was there.”

  “Why would he be there?” Jackson whipped his head in Steven’s direction.

  “I don’t know,” S
teven said, pulling into the grocery store parking lot and retrieving his phone from the cupholder. “I saved the footage from the police camera on the corner of Twenty-Sixth and Western from the day of the accident.”

  “How do you have that?”

  “It was on the news,” Steven replied, scrolling through his phone. “Not when the accident was first reported, but the following morning. Channel seven aired the footage from the street camera. Three people approached the car to help, but the news only interviewed two of them.”

  “I remember someone else being there, but I couldn’t see him,” Jackson remarked, reflecting on the events of that day. “Maybe he left the scene before the police arrived.”

  “There’s a reason the man disappeared when he did,” Steven said, angling the phone toward Jackson. “Look at this.”

  Jackson inwardly cringed, watching the eighteen-wheeler barrel toward them on the wrong side of the road. His life flashed before him that day. The only other time he’d been that scared was when he called the police station to check on Cadence after Detective O’Brien took her in for questioning, following Braelyn’s murder.

  * * *

  Cadence had gone by Braelyn’s house to check on her safety. Jackson and Cadence offered Braelyn refuge at their home until she found a place, far away from Lester. When Cadence arrived, she heard the commotion on the other side of the front door. She called out to Braelyn and checked the knob, which was unlocked. Cadence entered just as someone fled the scene through the rear door. Braelyn laid in a pool of blood, clutching a gun, gasping for the last breaths she would ever take.

  * * *

  Nothing about the video seemed peculiar. Jackson continued to observe as a man; then, a woman ran over to what was left of the driver’s side of the vehicle.

  Steven placed two fingers on the screen and spread them apart, enlarging the image as the third witness came over, who stood in front of the car.

  “Do you know who that is?” Steven asked, glancing at Jackson. “Did you see him?”

  “I couldn’t from my angle,” Jackson replied, focusing on the image. “I was lying on top of Cadence, so my back was to the windshield,” he said, glaring harder at the screen. “I remember he said something and–––”

  “What?” Steven asked; anticipation dripped from his tone.

  “Cadence had blacked-out,” Jackson recalled, folding his arms. “I couldn’t get her to wake up. But then, somebody said something, and Cadence’s eyes opened.” He looked at Steven. “I think she was trying to tell me something, but I was just thrilled that she woke up, and I missed it.”

  “She recognized his voice.”

  “Whose?”

  “Detective O’Brien.”

  Chapter 11

  “How’s that even possible?” Jackson asked, taking the phone from Steven and rewinding the clip. “He’s in lock-up until trial.”

  “No, he isn’t,” Steven countered. “He’s out on bond.”

  Jackson’s stomach churned in disgust. “This is a criminal case. How’s he roaming free?”

  “Up until now, his record was clean … at least on paper,” Steven remarked with a smirk that mirrored Jackson’s feelings. “No flight risk, pillar of the community, etcetera, etcetera.”

  “Crooked ass police department strikes again.” Jackson huffed, examining the video.

  Detective O’Brien on the streets was an added concern that his family didn’t need. Jackson made a mental note to contact Sly and Tony to tell them about this new development.

  “How can you be so sure that it’s him?” Jackson said, giving the phone back to Steven. “The man never turns around.”

  “That skullcap,” he shot back, sounding sure of himself.

  “It’s a winter hat.” Jackson shrugged, glancing at Steven. “I see nothing special about it.”

  Steven manipulated the video, freezing it on the back of the man’s head, then zooming in as far as he could without making the image blurry.

  “You see that checkerboard design?” Steven pointed at the screen. “That’s standard police department issued.”

  “It’s red. Shouldn’t it be black and white?”

  “Precisely,” Steven fired back. “The cops on Lester’s payroll wore skullcaps with embroidered red and black checkerboard, minus the police star decal. It’s barely noticeable from a distance.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I overheard Braelyn talking to Lester about it when they were plotting to extort Cadence at the Adali Global Event,” Steven admitted, shifting his focus out of the window. “The look was subtle but noticeable enough to those who knew what it represented.”

  “So, you’re saying that you believe this man is Detective O’Brien or one of his twisted cop friends?”

  “Yes.”

  Jackson marinated on that for a moment. He touched Steven’s shoulder, making him avert his attention back in Jackson’s direction. “Cadence can’t know about this. She already has enough to deal with without this added stressor.”

  Steven nodded. “Now what?”

  “Take me back to the house before Cadence starts to worry,” Jackson replied, scrolling through his phone. “I’m going to give ADA Knox a call.”

  Twenty minutes later, Steven double-parked in front of Jackson’s home.

  “Thanks for telling me this,” Jackson said, zipping the hoodie up to his collarbone. “I appreciate it more than you know.”

  “You’re welcome. If I learn anything else, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Jackson opened the door just as a series of rapid knocks tapped against Steven’s window.

  “Steven Bekker,” a man called out wearing a plaid tweed coat with a beard longer and fuller than James Harden of the Houston Rockets.

  “Yes,” Steven responded, cracking the window.

  “You’ve been served,” he said, sliding a manila envelope through the small opening.

  Jackson closed the door, shifting his complete focus to Steven.

  “What the hell is this?” Steven mumbled, glancing out the window. The man had vanished just as fast as he appeared.

  Jackson watched with great anticipation as Steven tore open the envelope and pulled out papers that resembled court documents.

  “This can’t be real,” Steven seethed, tossing the papers on the dashboard.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m being called to testify for the defense.”

  Jackson shuddered. “This is the day that just keeps on giving bullshit on top of bullshit.”

  “I’m not sure what the angle is, but I’m positive the defense has one,” Steven commented, running his palms down his face. “I don’t have any connection to Detective O’Brien.”

  “But you do to Lester,” Jackson refuted, grabbing the papers and looking them over. “Maybe they’re linking them together.”

  “But why?” Steven asked, gripping the steering wheel. “Lester could be in Mexico for all we know. No one’s heard or seen him since …” Steven’s chin dropped to his chest. “He killed my sister.”

  “Did you want to come in for a minute?” Jackson asked, assessing the distress in Steven’s body language.

  “No. I’ll be alright,” he replied, checking the rearview mirror. “You go ahead inside, take care of Cadence, and do what you need to do.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” Steven said, looking in the side mirror. “I have to move the car anyway; there’s a truck approaching.”

  Soon as Jackson exited and closed the door, Steven peeled away as if he were being chased. Jackson scanned the area as a precaution before heading into the house. He knew Sly and Tony, or one of their trusted associates, were observing from the shadows. That gave him some comfort.

  “Shhhh,” Phylicia said, placing a finger to her lips as Jackson closed the front door.

  She was stretched out on the couch with Jackie tucked into the groove of her hip on the inner part of the sofa.

  “Jackie ju
st nodded off.” Phylicia smiled, rotating her neck. “She was hoping you’d change your mind about the kids coming over.”

  “Sounds like her,” Jackson replied, grinning at his sleeping daughter. “Where’s Cadence?”

  “Finally, resting.”

  “That’s good.”

  “It is,” Phylicia agreed; her voice tinged with sadness. “She’s missing Caden. I tried to get her to lie down in the bedroom, but she insisted on staying in the nursery. She said she felt closer to Caden in there.”

  “Oh, my.” Jackson’s head lowered as his heart ached for his wife. He felt helpless.

  “I couldn’t argue with her. I don’t know what it’s like to give birth and have to leave your baby behind. I made sure the chair was in a reclining position and covered her up,” Phylicia said, extending a hand toward Jackson. “Come here, son.”

  He moved forward, lowered to his knees, and took her hand.

  “You take care of my daughter,” she said, gazing into Jackson’s eyes. “In order to do that, you must take care of yourself. You’ll get through all of this together, you hear me.”

  “Loud and clear, mama,” he replied, kissing the back of her hand. “I’m going to put Jackie in bed so you can get some rest.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Jackson carried Jackie upstairs to her room, then peeked in on Cadence. An angel itself couldn’t have appeared more at peace than she did at that moment. He was so grateful to his mother-in-law for being the caring woman she was, and for always looking out for their best interest. Jackson loved Phylicia just as much as he loved his own mother.

  He retired to the bedroom, retrieved Cadence’s phone, and scrolled through the contacts until he found ADA Knox’s number.

  “Hello, Mrs. Goldsmith.”

  “Not Mrs.,” he corrected, surprised by how quick Knox answered. “It’s Jackson.”

  “My apologies,” Knox said. “Cadence’s number came across the caller ID. I assumed you were her. Is everything okay?”

  “Not really,” Jackson replied, sitting on the bed. “But before I say anything, you need to promise me that this stays between us.”

  “Jackson, I can’t give you that assurance until I hear what you have to say,” Knox retorted. “If you’re about to confess to a crime, I suggest you speak with an attorney.”