Lethal Love: Deceit can be Deadly

by Perri Forrest

“You done yet?” Morrison asked calmly. “Because see, from where I sit, it seems like you think the longer you yell… the louder you yell… that somehow the truth of the situation will just magically disappear. I can assure you that that isn’t going to happen.”

  A light rapture on the door brought in Kaitlyn Matthews, Morrison’s colleague. “Morrison, I need to see you,” she informed him.

  “Uhh… is my attorney here?” Drew blurted out in the woman’s direction. “Because if so, it’s about damn time.”

  Morrison rose from his seat and left the room without a word. When the door had closed on Drew Levine, Kaitlyn announced to her partner, “The search of the residence didn’t turn up the weapon.”

  “Fuck…” Keith swiped a hand across a thick, wispy brow. “Kaitlyn, he’s good for this. I know it.”

  “Of course, he is. I mean, it’s good to have the weapon. But we got more than enough to hold him while we make sure these charges stick like crazy glue.”

  “We have a phone call from right outside her door that places him there. We have the phone that he called her from. We have text messages on Ms. Jacobson’s—”

  “Morrison…” Kaitlyn said, reeling her partner in. “We got this. We got him.”

  “Okay. You’re right,” he said, inhaling air then releasing. “I’m deep-breathing.”

  “Cool. So now, listen. The wife arrived a few minutes ago. She’s asking to get inside to speak with her husband.”

  Morrison’s face cracked into a broad smile. “Wow, so he has a ride or die chick by his side. The shit we see on this job amazes me,” he said, with a crooked smile as he ran a palm over dark, wavy locks.

  “Not necessarily,” Kaitlyn said, tilting her head to the side. “Maybe she doesn’t umm… you know; know all the details.”

  “Ahhh…” Keith beamed, nodding slowly. “Right. A woman’s mind,” he complimented. “I’m so busy wanting this narcissistic asshole, that my brain—”

  “I know, I know. That’s why we balance each other out so well. You’re the Elliott to my Olivia.”

  “Tuh! I’m too good-looking to be Stabler.”

  “You wish!” Kaitlyn poked. “But anyway, you want me to bring her back?”

  “Yeah, we can do that. I’ll give them a few minutes. Is she with the lawyer that this prick has been asking for?”

  “Nah, she’s alone as far as I could see. The suit might be on the way.”

  ~*~*~

  Several minutes later, Morrison stood behind a tinted one-sided window listening to the conversation between husband and wife.

  Drew Levine didn’t even let his wife get in the room good before he charged at her with, “Where’s Raquel?” He stretched his neck to look around her, hoping that whoever Raquel was, was right behind her. His face sank when the wife closed the door behind her. “Is she on her way or what? I’m ready to get the fuck out of this damn place!” He leaned forward as far as his restraints would allow. “You know I’m fucking innocent, right? This shit is crazy! I didn’t do it.”

  “And exactly what is it that you didn’t do?”

  “What do you mean? You were standing right there when they read me those bogus fuckin’ Miranda rights!”

  “Do you see ‘Dummy’ written across my goddamn forehead, Drew? Stop deflecting!” she screamed. “Answer the fucking question! What exactly is it that you didn’t do?!”

  Drew’s eyes narrowed as he sought a temporary answer to her question. “Why don’t we focus on getting me out of here and then we can go home and talk all of this stuff—”

  “We don’t need to get home for you to answer my question, Drew. What is it that you didn’t do? If I have to ask you again, I walk the fuck out that door and you’re on your own. Don’t believe me, keep evading the question.”

  “I didn’t kill her. I didn’t kill Royce. I didn’t do that!”

  “Finally, we’re getting somewhere! So tell me, Drew… why is it that they think you did? Why is it that they came directly to our house for you and removed you from the house and read you Miranda rights?! You see where I’m going with this, Drew?! They didn’t just show up and ask you a few questions! They came and arrested your ass! They must have something on you that made you a prime suspect and not just somebody they suspected!” she cried. “They’re saying you killed my best friend! And why would that even be? What is it that I’m missing?!”

  Drew sat still for a few paused moments, as though his wife would back off from her interrogation. His eyes finally closed, and his head dropped. Keith smiled at the sight of defeat on the man’s face. “Tell her, asshole,” he whispered under his breath.

  The small room grew eerily silent as Mrs. Levine awaited a response that her husband seemed to be summoning the courage to give her. Too many moments later, Nova pushed her chair away from the table and stood, preparing her exit.

  Drew’s head shot up at the recognition of the sound. “Wait, Nova.”

  “What am I waiting for? I’m asking for answers that you won’t give me; so, I figure I’ll go and ask these detectives what the fuck the real is. My best friend is dead! Gone! I’ll never see her again! That, in and of itself is a shock to my entire fucking soul!” she sobbed. “But then they’re accusing the man I’m married to, of taking her life! I don’t get this shit at all!”

  “Allow me, Mrs. Levine,” Detective Morrison said, upon re-entering the room.

  “No!” Drew yelled, forcefully pushing back in his chair. “Nooo! We’re not done!”

  “Detective… please tell me what’s going on,” she asked him. “I need to know.”

  “Nova!” Drew blurted. “Nova, listen to—”

  “Your husband and Miss Jacobson were lovers,” Morrison spilled without pause and without regard. For emphasis, he repeated… “They were lovers.”

  Nova Levine froze where she stood, staring into the detective’s eyes, before slowly plopping back down into the seat, overtaken by shock. “What?” she gasped, holding onto her chest. Her head shook vigorously. “No, you h-h-have… no. You have…” She paused to catch her breath. “You have that… wrong,” she managed, clearly sucker punched with a devastating blow. “It’s not possible. Right Drew?” she whispered. “Detective, no. You’re wro—”

  “We have proof. Explicit text message exchanges. Very explicit. A ping off a tower. DNA at the scene… and a lot more evidence rolling in. I’m sorry, Mrs. Levine. This isn’t alleged, it’s—”

  “N-N-Nova…” Drew stuttered, making a desperate attempt at halting anything that Morrison had to say. “It’s a setup, honey. Y-y-you gotta listen to—”

  “Were you fucking my best friend, Drew? Just clear that part up for me.”

  “Baby, just let me…”

  Her head shook slowly left to right, as she processed all that was happening.

  “Mrs. Levine,” Morrison spoke softly, touching her shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, knowing it was a dumb question. He genuinely felt bad for the woman. He knew how heavy her heart was going to be when all their findings were made public. It was a fucked-up situation all the way around.

  “Were you. Fuck…ing. Royce?” she pressed, determined to hear his admission of guilt.

  “Nova, baby… there’s more to—”

  “Aaaahh!” Mrs. Levine screamed, before attempting to lunge in her husband’s direction. As bad as Morrison wanted to let her go so that she could do real damage, he secured a hold on her before she could make contact. “You’re dead to me, Drew! For as long as you’re breathing, you’re dead to me! How could you?!” she roared out in agony. “How could you?! I gave you all of me! All of me! My best friend?! Ohhh my God! Drewww!” she cried. “This isn’t happening! Why?!”

  In the middle of Nova’s meltdown, Detective Morrison consoled her. “I’m so sorry you had to find out this way, Mrs. Levine,” he empathized.

  “I need to get out of here,” she proclaimed, through her desperate sobs. She tugged away from Morrison’s grasp. “I can’t be in the same room as
him!”

  “Nova!” Drew yelled, trying to get her attention. “Nova, please!” he begged, yanking against the table so hard it shook and rattled. “You have to believe me!”

  Nova snapped around when she got to the door. “The only thing I have to believe is that you’re a liar, a cheater, and a fucking murderer.” She shook her head in disgust before saying, “You broke me, Drew. You happy?” She glared at him for a few long seconds. Then came her announcement, “I’m done. Done.”

  “Baby! Just let me—”

  When the door slammed on Levine’s words, and his wife had made her emotional exit, a pleased Detective Morrison, turned toward Drew Levine. His mouth spread, a satisfied smile making a grand appearance. “I think it’s pretty fair to say that she’s… yeah… she’s done. And so are you…”

  4 | Nova

  Wynn Hotel

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  I couldn’t have picked a more fitting spot to regroup. The Wynn was perfect, and afforded me many options. Whether I wanted to stay cooped up in the suite and eat my problems away, or whether I wanted to get dressed up and mingle among some of the Vegas crowd, that I might never see on any other occasion. The choices were limitless, which meant I had plenty of hours to decide. I wasn’t in a hurry to figure out how I would spend my time, though. I knew that things would fall into place the way they were supposed to; and that I had three days to do with, what I chose. No man, no work disturbances, no expectations.

  Most people would probably believe that what I had done made me an evil bitch. Not that I would give a fuck about what anybody thought. Because what happened... happened to me. I knew that a murder would take place. That much, I knew. It wasn’t enough for me to be the distraught spouse who chalked the cheating scandal up to the game, and sulked until some new man came along. Bitches that trespass need to be dealt with. And not just lightly dealt with. It has to be in a way that doesn’t allow her to feel only slight remorse for her actions. Getting in her face and telling her how you feel isn’t nearly enough. Beating the fuck out of her would never suffice. Why? Because both of those scenarios end with her getting to walk away. Both of those scenarios allow her to slut-walk right into another situation. Unacceptable. So, yes, in my world, a loss of life was the only way.

  Where the glitch came in, was when I found out that said snake, was Royce. A woman, who for five years, I had told everything to. A woman who accompanied us to the courthouse to be married. Who knew all my inner secrets; and whose secrets I also knew. Well, hell, except for the ones that had to do with my raggedy-ass excuse for a husband.

  To be honest, because I was so close to Royce, I had doubts that I would be able to go through with killing her. That was, until I put myself through watching them fuck, over and over again—on my own security system. It was taunting. As though they were mocking me. How could they not be? They were in my bed. In my shower. With no regard to whether I would show up at home early or not. I knew that Drew was fucking somebody else. At first, I thought it was one of the single chicks that had moved into the development. But I needed to be sure. Not one time did I ever suspect him and Royce. Not once. And so, the joke was on me... until it wasn't.

  If I could have had it my way, I would've killed Drew's ass too. Matricide. But I think I'll be fine knowing that he'll lose everything. That as his wife, all his losses would become my wins—assets and all. The house, his cars, any money he had… all mine. And I deserved it all. Since he would more than likely, never see the light of day, what good was money to him? The answer to that was simple—none.

  I couldn't help but smile thinking back to my award-winning performance at the police station. It was epic. When the detective came in, and spilled details that I already knew, I did what came naturally. Inhaled a deep breath, closed my eyes, then thought back to losing my beloved puppy, Zeus, when I was a young girl.

  When Zeus had somehow gotten loose and out of the yard, he happened into traffic and was run over and killed by an idiot driver who wasn’t paying attention to the road. It was something that I had always lived with—the loss of my first best friend. The tears came easy, and they came hard. The crazy part was that I honestly thought that Drew and I would grow old together. That we'd have a few kids and be this power couple. So much for all that, because the man is dead to me now.

  What wasn’t dead, though, was my cellphone. The damn thing had begun chiming for what had to be the eighteenth time. Without even looking at the screen, I silenced it and tucked it away in my purse. There wasn’t a single person that I wanted, or needed, to speak to. And luckily, I wasn’t home; because then, I might have had to silence the landline as well. I had one thing to do—clear my mind. Anything else that I had to do, had already been done.

  And now I was free…

  No more being a wife, no more being best friend, and no more playing the fool.

  Once I unpacked all the contents from both my luggage and overnight bag, I stripped down to nothing, then went to run hot water into the jacuzzi bathtub. While it filled, I stood before the vanity, and pulled my twist-out into an elastic band. After my hair was taken care of, I lit the two lavender candles that sat atop the marble counter, then cut every light except the ones above the twin vanities.

  The scene surrounding me was so beautiful and serene. What woman wouldn’t want to share moments like these with a man—the right man? But one thing I wouldn’t be doing on this new journey of mine was getting a man just to be able to share these moments. That was desperation, and that wasn’t me. Not even a part of me. This time, I would make the decision that was worthy of me.

  Before stepping into my awaiting relaxation, I activated the bubble jets and slid down into the pool of splendor. It was amazing, and felt so good against my skin. Much needed self-love. I rested my head against the panel behind me and allowed my lids to close. It was a taste of what I imagined heaven to feel like. The more I relaxed, the more the pain of the past few months faded away. I felt vindicated. As though I had saved myself, by giving myself back what it needed most—me.

  No tension in my neck. No more being fixated on my plan to make them pay for betraying me. No more sleepless nights.

  ~*~*~

  I didn’t know exactly how long I had been in the water, but guesstimated it to be somewhere around an hour. The water had just begun to warm when I decided that I’d been in long enough. One look at my fingertips told me that. All ten of them looked like miniature ocean waves. The thick candles still burned, and the sweet scent of lavender was even more pronounced, after having burnt for so long. Once the pools of wax stiffened on the inside, there would still be plenty of life left in them. Enough to make the trip home with me.

  I released the lever so that the tub could drain, and used that time to lather my body with the soap I’d brought from the house. I loved a good bath to relax, but I never washed up in tub water. Ever since I was a kid, I was that way. Growing up, it was because I saw the ring in the tub and refused to bathe in the same water. As an adult, baths were just a form of massage and a moment to decompress. The cleansing itself, would forever be the shower for me. So, out of the tub I emerged, and entered the connecting glass door that led to the spacious shower. There, I rinsed the suds from my body, and pampered my face with a separate Neutrogena cleansing.

  By the time I finished the entire process, I felt invigorated, lighter. My earlier decision of staying indoors to reflect and all that shit, was no longer a thought. It had been washed away, awakening new desires in its wake. Furthermore, why in the fuck should I hide myself in a luxury suite all night when there was just as much luxury throughout the hotel to indulge in? The answer was simple—I shouldn’t.

  And that was why an hour later, I found myself decked out in all-black: A short dress, cut low in the front, with a droop back that stopped right above my ass, and a five-inch ankle strap sandal. I slicked my hair into a ponytail, and left the ends loose to hang in a soft, curly puff ball below the nape of my neck. Red lipstick, heavy makeu
p on the eyes, and diamond hoops completed the sexy ensemble. I felt like Nova, circa 2007, when I fucked for sport, spoiled myself like I was my own sugar daddy, and lived on my terms.

  The power once lost, had been successfully restored. And it was all in the dress. The one that clung to me—like a cheater to his fucking lies.

  5 | Nova

  Descending the undulated golden staircase, and into the XS Nightclub environment, I felt confident and regal. Two sets of spouting waterfalls sat in the distance and brought the place alive. Music and men were on the menu of this lovely place. The men. It was like a United Nations oasis of attractiveness. There was so much flavor in there, that I instinctively ran my tongue across my top lip. Couples scattered here and there, but for the most part, it looked like a night for singles. All ages, all sizes, and every color. I had no idea what I was looking for—or if I was looking at all. I just knew I was there to soak up some scenery, and consume a few drinks.

  I was comfortably placed in a club that was conveniently housed in the same building as my suite, so I was good. I could throw as much caution to the wind as I wanted to.

  Vegas in April was the best. It was usually the time of decent weather—not too hot and nowhere near cold. Tonight, the temperature was on its best behavior, and somewhere around seventy-two degrees. It was a perfect time to be outside. The breeze was kind to me, brushing softly against my neck, back, and arms, like a soft, welcoming touch.

  I reached the bottom of the stairs and took my time looking around for good seating or a spot at the bar. For the most part, the cabanas were full. But since it was just me, I managed to find an opening in one of the larger spaces that had room for about three or four more people. I caught a few glances, a lot of smiles, and a few nods before I got comfortable.

  My location was ideal, as it afforded me the faultless view of the oversized pool. I had seen some amazing water displays in my life, but this had to be one of the nicest ones. The light coming from the base of the pool was dark indigo. Just thinking of ‘indigo’, made me smile because it brought to mind the movie A Thin Line Between Love and Hate, when Brandi corrected Darnell on the color of her pool’s water. Just like in the movie, the color was eye-catching. It matched the hue of the spouting streams flowing over the cement wall. Adjacent to the pool was a massive circular bar with several steps leading to the seating. The lasers surrounding the DJ’s booth reminded me of the lights darting around the spaceship in Close Encounters. They were hypnotizing, yet striking at the same time.