I fake gasp, placing a hand on my heart. "Mr. Owen Montgomery, how very crass. It's true, but very crass."
As I say this, someone wants to pull in behind us, but doesn’t have enough room. "I’ve got to move."
"Park around the corner. I'm sure you'll find a space we can park for a while."
I do as he says, finding a space down one of the quieter streets—if you can call any street in New York City quiet.
"I've got something for you to see," I finally say, pulling out a USB stick from my bra. When Owen spots me, he raises that damn sexy eyebrow again.
"What else have you got hidden down there?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
He gives me a what the fuck look. "That is why I asked."
"I'm trying to show you something very important and you're making it extremely difficult for me."
"I'm sorry. Please continue. I guess the reason why you needed my iPad is because of what's in your hand."
Without needing an answer, he lights up the iPad and hands it to me. I input the USB and find the surveillance clip Grant showed me at Patricia's.
"What the fuck is that?"
I smile toward Owen's shocked face. "It's a surveillance recording. Watch it. I'll explain everything after."
I press play, and watch the video again. When the mystery man arrives in his car, parks, and gets out, that's when Owen reacts.
"Fuck me, Savannah, where did you get this?"
The panic in his eyes is unmistakable, so I pause the video to turn to him. "You recognize the guy?" I already know the answer, but I needed to see it with my own eyes.
"I will never forget that face for as long as I live." His face turns pale as he continues to stare at the screen. "It's been etched into my brain ever since that night." He glances at me, his eyes filled with fear and regret. "It's the man I shot and killed."
Secret
The Pierces
Present
After he calms a little, I play him the rest of the video, his face growing fierce with each second that passes.
"She fucking knew him."
I snort. "Well, knew him enough to leave the bar with him, but look," I say, pointing to the part where she arrives after four in the morning. "After the shooting, she goes back to the bar and moves the guy’s car." I don't bother to tell him the person's name or that he's been reported missing by his family since the day after he was killed. If I do, it will break Owen. Before, he was only known as the guy he shot and killed. Now, he has a name and a family who misses him.
"I don't get what's happening." He rubs a hand over his face before turning to me with a frown. "How did you get this?"
I bite my lip, knowing I will have to tell him the truth now. "For the last few months, Patricia and I have been conspiring to get dirt on my mom. She's too devious and cunning not to have a few skeletons in her closet. We hoped between us we would get something on her…something that could finally break the tight hold she obviously has on you."
I bite my lip again, searching for a reaction from him. He's completely unreadable. I'm about to ask him if he's angry, when he turns to me.
"You mean to say you've been regularly visiting my mom and making plans on how to get rid of your mother?"
I try to hide my smirk, because…when he says it like that, it is kind of funny. "In a nutshell, yes."
"Jesus fuck." He shakes his head before placing it in his hand.
"Are you angry with me?"
His head snaps up, a smile quickly surfacing. "No, I'm not angry. In fact, I can't believe you've gone to all this trouble over me."
I offer an incredulous look. "How can any of this be trouble? It's worth every second if it breaks the chain my bitch of a mother has wrapped around you."
He motions with his hand to the screen. "It raises questions, but this doesn't prove anything."
I thought that too, but the first step I needed to take was coming here and getting confirmation of my suspicions. I was edging my bets the guy in the surveillance video was the guy Owen shot. All of it stinks, and although it doesn't prove much, it's a start.
"That's why I have a plan." Owen shakes his head. "You haven't even heard it yet."
"No, you've done enough. I'm not worth all of this, Savannah. Let me take care of it."
"Do you trust me?" I ask, shocking him.
"Savannah, this isn't about…"
"Do you trust me?" I ask again.
Owen sighs, his eyes filled with frustration. "Of course I do. I wouldn't have told you my secret last night if I didn't."
I take the USB out of his iPad and hand it back to him. "Then let me do this one thing. Let me at least try."
Owen searches my eyes before letting out a deep breath. "Okay. What’s your plan?"
* * *
After leaving Owen to get back to work, I make my way out of the city and call Grant, asking him if I can meet him at his office. I tell him my plan, and he's eager to help, as long as he can be a part of it too. I was secretly hoping he would.
It's almost six by the time I'm pulling up outside the house in Scarsdale, where my mom’s in. I’d called Frank and asked before I made my way.
I find her in the living room, sipping on a glass of bourbon and reading the latest edition of People magazine. She's always secretly dreamed of being in there one day. Her snobbery knows no bounds.
When she senses someone in the room, she looks up, a sneer forming at the corner of her mouth. "Oh, it's you." She then commences reading her magazine.
"I'm fine, by the way. Thank you for asking. Almost getting raped by your partner in crime wasn't exactly one of the highlights of my life."
Snapping the magazine shut, she places it on her lap. "What are you doing here? I thought I got rid of you."
I didn’t think my mother could shock me any longer, but I guess I was wrong.
I move toward her, but don't sit. "Why do you have to be such a bitch?"
"Says the girl who's been fucking my husband."
My eyes hurt from rolling them so hard. "You were a bitch before then, and you know it. Besides, I know you and Owen haven't consummated your marriage by any stretch."
She all out belly laughs. "Is that what you think? We were always fucking like rabbits."
Now, it's my turn to laugh. "I overheard you, you know." Her eyes narrow at me. "That day a couple months ago when you tried to blackmail him into getting into bed with you. It was pathetic."
She throws the magazine toward me, missing my head by a few inches. I refuse to let her see it fazes me. Instead, I shock her by smiling. "It pisses you off that he chose to crawl into my bed instead of yours, doesn't it?"
She throws her arm in the direction of the door, pointing at it. "Get out of my fucking house, bitch. You may think you have one over me just because you opened your legs for my husband, but I know something you don't. He will never, ever leave me."
Placing my finger to my lip in a pensive manner, I start to pace a little. I'm trying my best to seem nonplussed, but my heart is drumming a million miles an hour.
"Ah, yes. Something to with shooting a guy you had been kissing earlier at a bar."
Her reaction is priceless. I've never seen someone's eyes bug out as much as hers right are now. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
I smirk at her. "You know what I'm talking about. Owen told me everything. He thinks he shot a man because you told him he did."
"Owen did shoot a man, and I helped bury the evidence. He owes me his life."
Shaking my head as if confused, I ask, "So, how did you get the man you had been kissing at a bar to run around in a field where some drunk guy was taking pot shots? I don't understand. You'd have to be suicidal to do that."
"Maybe he was."
"So you coerced a suicidal man to run in a field to be shot at?"
She leans forward, pointing a finger at me. "That's not what I'm saying and you know it. You're putting words into my mouth."
"Then what are y
ou saying, because none of it makes any sense. It can't be a coincidence he was there."
Her eyes narrow on me again. "How do you know about him?"
I smile. This is going to really piss her off, and she deserves every second of it.
"Patricia and I have been doing a little digging on you. It seems you've been rather busy these last few months sleeping around, blackmailing your husband to sleep with you, and…oh yeah, making him marry you after he thought he shot someone. But it wasn't him who shot the man that fateful night, was it? It was you."
My mom throws her head back, laughing. "You can't prove any of this, little daughter of mine. Go back to the hole you once crawled out of and leave me be with my husband."
Fisting my hands, I stand my ground. "Sorry, but no can do. I love Owen, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you never get away with this."
She gets up, and I jolt back a little. Instead of coming nearer, she walks around the couch and stands by the side table behind it.
"It's my word against his. Besides, I have the gun in question—the one that shot that man. The same one Owen was shooting that night. It has his fingerprints all over it, and I know where the body is buried. What's buried can be unburied, then Owen gets to spend the rest of his life in jail."
"For something you did," I sneer. "You shot that man and planted his body there to make Owen think he did it. Didn't you?"
"You have no proof of that."
I raise my eyebrow. "The body is proof enough. Experts will be able to give a time of death.” I have no idea if this is the case, but I roll with it, hoping she doesn’t know either. “Couple that with the fact there's surveillance evidence of you kissing the guy in a bar a little while before his death…I'm sure if I take it to the police…"
My mom flings her hand up in the air and produces a gun, pointing it at me. "You're not going anywhere."
I just about manage to duck behind the other couch before she shoots. Glass smashes with an almighty crash as the bullet flies through the living room window.
Fear creeps up my spine. My mom could be anywhere, and there's no time to waste.
As I'm about to think of running, the door slams open. "Police! Put down your weapon now."
"I'm…I'm sorry, Officer. I was fearing for my life. My daughter…she's gone insane. I thought she was going to hurt me."
"Put down your weapon!" he shouts again.
"Okay, okay…"
I glance behind me to find a police officer and Grant in the doorway. When Grant spots me, he nods his head. "You can come out now. You're safe."
My heart beating a million miles an hour, I shakily nod before hesitantly getting up. When I glance to where my mother is, she's being handcuffed by a police officer.
"You have the right to remain silent…" the police officer starts, placing the cuffs on her.
"But I haven't done anything!" she screeches, trying to pull away. "It's her. She's the one who needs locking up!" When she turns to me and all I give her is a slight smile, she lunges for me. "You fucking bitch. I will kill you. I will fucking kill you!" The police officer tugs her back so forcefully, she almost falls over. "I haven't done anything wrong," she whines. It's amazing how quickly she's turning this from spewing venom to trying to act the victim.
"It's my husband. He's the murderer. He shot someone."
"We know everything," Grant answers, making her snap her head toward him. "And thanks to your daughter, we have it all on tape."
She flits her shocked eyes toward me, and I pull down my top to expose the hidden microphone.
"You fucking bitch!" she screeches again. "I'm going to get you for this."
The police officer pulls her out of the door while she shouts, screams, and lashes out. When the sound of her voice dissipates, Grant turns to me, holding me by my shoulders.
"Are you all right?"
I let out a sigh. "I am now. I didn't think I was going to come out of here alive at one point."
"It's over now. It's amazing how you were able to get her to confess."
I smile up at him. "That's the thing about my mother. She's too cocky for her own good. She almost got away with it…"
"Yeah, if it wasn't for us meddling kids."
We both laugh at the joke, and the feeling calms me a little.
"Seriously, though, Owen Montgomery is lucky to have you…"
"I know I am," Owen says, appearing through the living room door.
Smiling widely toward each other, I race into his arms, throwing my own over him in a tight embrace.
"It's over," I muffle into the side of his neck. "You didn't kill that man, Owen. You never did."
He strokes my hair, kissing the side of my cheek. "And if it wasn't for you, we never would have found that out. I’m so proud of you, Savannah."
Those lasting words bring a huge smile to my lips. Things will be difficult for a while, and Owen will have some questions to answer to, but he'll get through it because he has the strength of his loving family behind him and a woman who loves him.
You can't get much more of a potent tonic than that.
Because You Loved Me
Celine Dion
Three weeks later
There was a time I thought this day would never come. In fact, I was convinced of it. So sure Owen couldn't break ties with my mom, I was due to be stuck in limbo for however long before either myself or Owen got bored with each other. Problem being, we both knew in the end it would never happen. Feelings grew stronger with each passing day, making it inevitable that at least one of us would end up getting our heart broken.
All because of one woman.
The same woman who held out for two days before telling the police where she buried that poor man. The same woman who still tried to pin the blame on Owen, but failed miserably when extra surveillance was submitted into evidence of her and the guy she killed sneaking around outside the grounds of the charity gala on that fateful night. Apparently, they disappear and only she reappears some moments later, her running away from something—or something she had done. She then turns up some thirty minutes after that, dressed in a gown in search for her next victim. She had studied Owen beforehand, knew he liked shooting, and also knew he would be at that event that night. Failing in an attempt at simply nagging herself a rich man, she chose to force someone's hand—Owen's hand. Surveillance then shows them leaving the gala, disappearing and then reappearing some thirty minutes later. They both get into a car and drive off. Then, an hour later, my mom is seen driving back to the same place, then disappears when she drives off into the field, and is then seen driving back two hours after that. This was obviously the time she used burying the body.
The gun was retrieved, and ballistics matched. She had purchased it the day before that fateful night. With so much evidence stacked against her and her confession, my mother had no other choice but to admit what she had done. To rub salt in the wound, I went into the police station the day after my mom tried to shoot me and asked to change my statement in regards to what Ethan did to me. He has since been interviewed and told the police my mother wanted to fake my kidnapping in order to get money out of her husband. To say she won't be in jail for the rest of her life is an understatement. Even the detective in the case called her a she-devil.
My main concern was Owen would somehow get in trouble, but his lawyer explained Owen was the victim here, so no charges would be brought against him. We're all grateful it's over and my mom is where she should have been months ago.
"I missed all this," Patricia says, standing in the living room amongst a throng of people. Parties had always been a thing in Owen's circle of life, so tonight is no exception. We haven't had a party in a while, but yesterday, Owen decided to throw this little impromptu shindig, inviting all close friends, clients, and colleagues.
Donning a white chiffon dress, cream elegant heels, and pearl earrings, Patricia looks the belle of the ball.
"I missed having you here," I answer,
placing an arm around her shoulder. "You and I make a good team."
She smiles brightly. "We do, don't we? We took down the bitch." She throws her fist up in the air, making me laugh.
"We certainly did."
"Do you know what you're going to do now?"
Hmm, this is a little awkward. Because of the shitstorm, Owen and I haven't really gotten around to telling her we're an item now. The day it all kicked off, Owen stayed with me at the lake house, then we moved all of my stuff back into the house…then into Owen's bedroom. I've slept in there every night since.
And oh, what bliss it's been. Finally, I know what it feels like to go to bed in his arms and then wake up in the same position the next day without the fear of being caught. All the helpers in the house know full well Owen and I are a thing. I even believe Frank knew long before, but being the tactful person he is, he hasn’t once brought it up.
I've not really put much thought into how anyone feels about Owen and I being together, but it certainly matters to me what Patricia thinks. How she feels means a lot to me. I suppose this is why I haven't told her.
"Do you mean as far as staying here?"
She nods, eager for my answer. I bite my lip as a way to avoid answering for a few seconds, but when I go to open my mouth, I'm saved by none other than Owen.
It's the clinking of his glass that has everyone's heads turning. The room grows silent in the wake of Owen's speech. He glances around, smiling before clearing his throat.
"I've gathered you all here for this special evening because I have some very great and important news. As you all know, I had been blackmailed into marriage, and things, as you can imagine, have been abhorrent. But," he says with a big smile, "little did I know, I had forces at work trying to free me from this dire situation." He looks toward Patricia and I, giving me a wink. I can't help the silly schoolgirl grin that takes over my face.
"Because of Savannah and my mother, Sarah is now in jail looking at life without parole." Cheers erupt, and after a few seconds, the sounds of clapping dies down.
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