An Uncertain Affair (The Affair Series Book 2) (13 page)

“Sure,”
I said, still in shock over the whole situation. Dane stood behind me and
rubbed my back, sobbing softly.

The
detective pulled out an iPad and tapped at the screen. The outline of a hand
came up on the screen. “Place your right hand here inside the outline,” he
said. He tapped a button on the screen, and it scanned my fingerprints. My hand
print came up on the screen so he could confirm he had a good-quality scan
before we moved on to the left hand. When he was satisfied with the prints, he
handed each of us his business card and said, “I’ll need phone numbers for each
of you so I can be in touch if we have any other questions.”

Dane
took out a business card and wrote my information on the back. “Here you go.
That has both of our numbers.”

“Thanks.
If you think of anything else, please call me. Otherwise, I’ll be in touch with
you later. I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, nodding to both of us before he
left.

It
was barely eleven. Dane and I were shell-shocked.

“Let’s
get out of here,” Dane said. “I need to call Steve, and besides, there’s nothing
else we can do here.”

“Okay,
I guess I’ll go home and wait to hear from Detective Roberts. I’ll talk to you
later.”

Dane
gave me a hug and locked the door behind us.

**

When
I got home, I crawled into bed and wept. I felt horribly guilty that I’d given
the tea to Valerie. Maybe if I’d smelled it, I would have noticed the almonds
and been able to prevent this. I replayed the whole scene in my mind. I
remembered that when I went to find Valerie’s Epipyn, there was a partially
drunk bottle of water in her bag. That must have been what made her sick first
thing in the morning. Maybe she hadn’t drunk enough to kill her before she got
to the studio, but when I gave her another dose of it, her system couldn’t
handle it.

I
dialed the detective.

“Roberts,”
he answered.

“Detective
Roberts, this is Bridget Stone from Dane Pratt’s office.”

“Yes,
Ms. Stone.”

“This
morning when I realized Valerie was having an allergic reaction, I went into her
purse to look for her Epipyn, and I remembered that there was a partially drunk
bottle of water in there. It was probably from the same batch you’re testing.”

“Thank
you, Ms. Stone. We have her belongings here, and we’ll check that out. I’ll let
you know when we have more information. Thanks for calling.”

“Okay,
thanks. ‘Bye.”

I
lay in bed, numb, for hours. My phone kept ringing, but I didn’t even look to
see who was calling. I let it go to voicemail. Around three o’clock, I thought
I’d better check the messages in case the detective had tried to reach me.

“Bridget,
it’s Sally. How are you holding up? I’m worried about you. Call me.”

“My
sweet Bridget, I’m so sorry.” I could tell Sergio was crying. “This is so awful.
I know how you must feel. I have many feelings from losing my wife coming back
to the surface, too. I’m thinking about you. I can put you in touch with my
grief counselor if that would help you. Call me if you want to talk.”

“Ms.
Stone. This is Detective Roberts. Please call me when you can. Thank you.”

I
appreciated Sally’s support, and Sergio was the last person I wanted to talk
to. I tried to compose myself and redialed Detective Roberts’ number from my
call log.

“Roberts.”

“Detective,
this is Bridget Stone returning your call.”

“Yes,
Ms. Stone. We’d like to talk to you at the station if you have some time.”

“Can’t
we talk by phone?”

“I’d
rather talk with you in person, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay.
I’ll be there within the hour.”

What
could they possibly need to talk with me about in person? I took a quick shower
to try to revive myself a little, and headed to the station. Sally was there
when I arrived. “What’re you doing here?” I asked her.

“I
know it’s been a trying day for you, and I thought you could use the support. Daniel,
I mean, Detective Roberts has stayed in touch with me throughout the day. Let’s
sit down.”

“Sally,
what the hell is going on?”

“The
bottles have definitely been tampered with. They think Nicole may have had
something to do with it, but they need to talk with you about your whereabouts
for the last few days, too. I told him you and Valerie were friends, but he
wants to hear the details from you.”

“They
don’t think
I
had anything to do with this, do they?!”

“Well,
you did fix the tea for her this morning, which is what seems to have caused
the anaphylactic shock.”

“That’s
just
crazy!
Valerie was a good friend of mine. I would
never
do
anything to hurt her!”

“I
know that, but they have to check with anyone who had contact with her in the
last couple of days.”

Across
the way, Nicole and Adele were each walking into separate rooms. Detective
Roberts walked up to Sally and me.

“Ms.
Stone, could you come with me?”

“Can
Sally come with me?”

“I
guess that would be okay,” he said.

Sally
followed me into a small meeting room. It was actually an interrogation room,
but even thinking of it that way was making me nauseous. We sat down, and he
got right to business.

“Ms.
Stone, when was the last time you saw Ms. Essex before this morning?”

“It
was Tuesday. She and I were planning to go to the North Coast together for New
Year’s but she stayed behind to work through the holiday. I talked to her
yesterday on my way back. She seemed fine.”

“Where
was she when you talked to her?”

“She
was at the studio with Nicole prepping for the shoot.”

“Did
she say she had been feeling ill or was having any problems at that point?”

“No.”

“Was
that the last contact you had with her before this morning?”

I
remembered her text. “No, she texted me last night just as I was going to bed
to say that Adele had come by the studio to tell them we were going to be doing
more work for Sergio than was originally planned.” I pulled out my phone and
showed him the text.

“What
did she mean by ‘hell for me’?” he asked.

“She
normally worked with Dane as the lead food stylist. Adele had insisted Nicole
take the lead on this job, and Valerie was going to have to work as her
assistant. Valerie wasn’t crazy about the idea but was dealing with it. When
the schedule got extended, she was going to have to deal with it a lot longer
than we originally thought. She was always a team player, though. That’s why
she said she would survive.”

“I
see. And how did you feel about the situation?”

“I
just wanted to produce a beautiful book. We all looked at it as a team effort. It
was going to be huge for all of us to say we had worked on a Sergio Ramirez
book. That’s why Valerie agreed to work as Nicole’s assistant in the first
place, so she would have that experience on her resume.”

“Why
did you decide not to use the Epipyn from Valerie’s purse?”

“Was
it there?! Oh, my God, I never found it -- there was so much stuff in that
bag!” I started to cry. I couldn’t believe I had overlooked it.

“Okay,
let’s get back to where you were the last few days. Were you by yourself up on
the North Coast? Can anyone verify you were there?”

I
could feel my face flush. “I went there to be alone, but I ran into Sergio not
long after I arrived. His family has a house that was right near where I was
staying. It was a total surprise.” Sally glared at me. I turned to her and
said, “I swear, I didn’t plan it. It just happened.”

“Okay,
I get the picture,” Detective Roberts said. “Wait here.” He left the room.

Sally
got up and started pacing. “I thought we agreed you would keep your distance
from him.”

“I
was trying. That’s one of the reasons I went up there, to be away for New
Year’s and put some space between us.” Sally was about to respond when Detective
Roberts came back in the room.

“Ms.
Stone, you’re free to go. We’re arresting Nicole Terry for the murder of
Valerie Essex.”

“Seriously?!”
I said in disbelief.

“All
the evidence points to her, and she has the strongest motive of anyone to
eliminate Valerie. She’s still proclaiming her innocence, but it’s pretty clear
she’s responsible.”

“This
is just insane!” I said as I walked out.

Sergio
and Cy were there, talking with an officer across the way. Sergio came over to
me when he saw me walking out.

“Bridget,
are you okay?”

“Not
really. I can’t believe this is happening.”

He
hugged me and said, “Cy and I are working with Nicole’s lawyer to get her out
on bail. It doesn’t look like anything will happen until Monday after her arraignment,
though. Can I see you later?”

I
looked at Sally, but answered him. “I don’t think that would be a good idea right
now.” I turned to Sergio and added, “You should get back and help Cy and
Nicole. I’m going home. It’s been a long day.”

“Okay.
I will check on you over the weekend.” Sergio kissed my cheek and headed back toward
Cy.

Sally
hugged me and said, “I’m going to have a brief conversation with Detective
Roberts, but I’ll come by your house to see you in a little bit.”

“Okay,
see you there.”

I
drove through the darkness. The night air felt particularly cold. I just wanted
to crawl back under the covers and hope that when I woke up, this would all
turn out to be a bad dream. But it wasn’t.

Sally
arrived a few minutes after me. “Bridget, you must try to get some rest. And
try not to communicate with Sergio. I have a feeling there will be a lot of
press about this because of Nicole’s connection to the Ramirez family. I’m sure
there will be reporters everywhere, so be on the lookout and avoid them at all
costs.”

“I
understand,” I said with resignation.

“With
Nicole in custody and so much evidence against her, hopefully the whole thing
will be over with quickly.”

“Do
you really think so?”

“Detective
Roberts filled me in on what they’ve found so far, and it’s a pretty strong
case. Apparently there were even some e-mails between her and Adele saying she
wished Valerie was out of the picture. I guess she thought Valerie was too talented
and might upstage her.”

“Unbelievable.
Will you let me know if you hear anything more from Detective Roberts?”

“I
will. He’s my husband, so we stay in pretty close contact,” Sally said, smiling,
trying to lighten my mood.

“Thank
you, Sally, for everything.”

“You
take it easy. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Sally said, hugging me.

“Okay.
Good night.” I closed the door behind her and slumped to the floor.

The
fatigue and emptiness were crushing. I didn’t even have the strength to get out
of my clothes. I just slid off my shoes and got into bed. The numbness was so
profound even the tears wouldn’t come.

Saturday
morning, I lingered in bed, thinking about the last twenty-four hours. It was
surreal. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table to check my messages, and
there were thirteen voicemails and a text from Dane:
don’t answer ur phone
unless u know who it is. The reporters r digging 4 dirt. Call me if u feel up
to it.
I dialed Dane right away.

“Hey,
girl,” he answered quietly. “How’re you doing?”

“I
don’t know. I just can’t wrap my brain around this. How’re you? What’s going
on?”

“I’m
still pretty shaken up, too, but doing okay, I guess, considering…. I got a
call back from that detective yesterday afternoon. The CSI team wanted to go
through the studio to see if they could find any more evidence, so Steve and I
went over there to let them in. By the time they were done, remote trucks were
lining the street outside the building. Several reporters tried to stop me to talk,
but I just kept going. My phone hasn’t stopped ringing. It’s excruciating.”

“That’s
what all those messages are about. I haven’t listened to them yet. I just saw
your text and wanted to talk to you.”

“Well,
one of those messages is from me, but I would bet the others are reporters
digging for scoop. Unless you’re ready for your fifteen minutes of fame, I
would lie low.”

“I
plan to do just that. What’re you and Steve up to?”

“We’re
going to meet Valerie’s parents when they get in this afternoon. Her mom asked
me if I could help them figure out some arrangements.”

“If
I can do
anything
, let me know.”

“I
will girlfriend. You take it easy.”

I
made some coffee and looked through the list of missed calls to see if I
recognized any of the numbers besides Dane’s. Sergio had called early in the
morning. I started sifting through the voicemails, deleting each as soon as
they started, until I got to Sergio’s.

“Bridget,
my sweet,” he said softly in a ragged voice. “I’m sick over this. I haven’t
slept, and I really need to see you. Can we get together later to talk? Please?
Call me.”

I
could tell he was hurting, too. The emotional stress on him must have been tremendous,
knowing that all this was happening because of the book. On top of that,
Valerie’s death was so similar to his wife’s. He was probably reliving that
awful memory. I had to stay strong and stay away from him for a while until this
settled down. I could not waver this time. I texted him:
got ur message. I’m
not up 4 talking yet. Try to get some rest. I’ll be in touch

I
pulled out my iPad and logged on to CNN.com to see if the story had made its
way to the national news yet. It was in the middle of the home page. There was a
photograph of the signage for Pratt Photography. The blurb read:

“An
investigation is underway in Portland, OR into the apparent murder of one of
star chef Sergio Ramirez’s food stylists at the studio of Pratt Photography yesterday.
Details of the case have not been released, other than the victim was 27-year-old
Valerie Essex. Photography for Ramirez’s new book was set to begin next week
but has been postponed indefinitely.”

Two
stories below that was a photograph of Clint Sinclair and information about his
hearing. My head was spinning. How could this be my life?

My
phone rang. It was Sally. “Good morning, Bridget. Did you get any sleep?”

“Some.
I was exhausted, but it was hard to turn my brain off.”

“I
can imagine. Well, I just wanted to check on you. There isn’t much new, other
than the fact that Nicole is having a hard time making the wardrobe adjustment.
Apparently orange is not her color. She’s been having a bit of a breakdown
behind bars.”

“Has
she said anything more about Valerie or how she did this?”

“No,
her lawyer is keeping her on a tight leash, but they’re pushing hard to get her
out on bail. She’s very emotionally distraught.”

“She
should be, if she has come to her senses and has realized what she’s done. I
still can’t believe Valerie’s gone.”

“I
know. Have any services or arrangements been made yet?”

“No,
but all of that should be figured out by tomorrow.”

“Well,
you hang in there, and call me if there’s anything you need. I’m around and
happy to come over if you want some company.”

“Thank
you, Sally. I really just need to lie low and be by myself for a little while.
I’ll call you if I need anything.”

“Okay,
talk to you soon.”

I
sat in the dark in my living room. I hadn’t opened the shades, not wanting to
acknowledge the day. The silence was deafening; I felt completely paralyzed. I
pulled up the pictures Valerie and I had taken during our weekend together over
Thanksgiving. There were a few selfies of the two of us and some pictures of
the amazing food she had prepared. She was a beautiful girl and such a good
friend. The tears came back uncontrollably.

**

The
rest of the day, I didn’t do much but sleep and read. Dane texted me Saturday
night and asked me if I would join him, Steve, and Valerie’s parents for brunch
on Sunday. I knew it would be a difficult get-together, but I wanted to meet
Valerie’s parents under better circumstances than at a funeral home, so I
agreed to go.

The
café was casual, almost diner-like. When I arrived, Dane introduced me to Valerie’s
parents, Joy and Robert Essex. We exchanged handshakes and pleasantries while
we waited for a table. Within a few minutes, the hostess escorted us to a large
booth. The dining room was buzzing, almost completely full. Our waiter
encouraged us to place our orders before the church crowd descended on them.
Once our orders were in, we could relax and talk.

“Valerie
told us so many nice things about you, Bridget,” Joy said. “She was very happy
when you started working with Dane.”

“I
was thrilled to get the job working with Dane and Valerie. They made such a
good team. She was also a good friend, and we had so much fun over Thanksgiving.”

“She
sent us pictures from your weekend. It looked like you were having a good time.
You could always be sure there would be good food around if Valerie was there,”
Robert said, tearing up a little.

“She
was very lucky to have you two,” Joy said, gesturing to Dane and me.

“I
wish I could have done more,” I said, choking up as I spoke.

“Bridget,
we know you did everything you could,” Robert said. “We’re grateful you
discovered the almond extract in the water. Nicole might have gotten away with
it otherwise.

Our
food came, and when the waiter was gone, the conversation shifted to the
memorial.

“Valerie
wanted to be cremated, so we’ll take her ashes home with us, but we would like
to have a service of sorts for her here before we go back,” Joy said. “Valerie
wouldn’t want anything sad or serious. She would want it to be a party. We were
thinking we might rent a private room at Anthony’s and have a celebration of
her life there. We have to move everything out of her house this week, so we’re
thinking maybe next weekend would be a good time.”

“That
sounds like a perfect idea. I know Valerie would love that,” Dane said.
“Bridget and I can help you get the word out if you’d like.”

“We
would love your help. Just let us know about how many people you think we can
expect so we can be sure we plan accordingly,” Robert said, then added, “I’m
not sure we want Sergio or any of his people there, though. I know we have to
see them in court on Monday, but I don’t particularly want them at Valerie’s
celebration.”

“I
totally get that,” Dane said. “We’ll make sure they know they’re not welcome.”

I
knew Sergio would be devastated that he couldn’t pay his respects to Valerie at
this celebration. He was reeling from the whole situation already, and this
could drive him into even deeper depression. I had to be the one to tell him.

**

We
finished up brunch, and everyone headed their separate ways. When I was on the
road, I called Sergio.

“Bridget,
I’m so happy to hear from you,” Sergio said with very little energy in his
voice.

“How’re
you doing?” I asked.

“Honestly,
I’m having a very difficult time. It’s hard not to feel responsible. Even
though her death was not by my hands, it was still a result of my project. That’s
the troublesome reality.”

“Sergio,
you had no way of knowing this was going on. You can’t take on that burden. Do
you get any sense that Cy knew how Nicole felt about Valerie?”

“Cy
still claims she’s innocent. He can’t accept the evidence. He and Adele are
visiting with Nicole now. Cy said she was having a pretty rough time.”

“Prison
isn’t supposed to be easy. She’s bound to have trouble adjusting from a
blissful life with Cy to wearing an orange jumpsuit and having a roommate for
the rest of her life,” I said rather harshly, and regretted my words the moment
I said them. “I’m sorry, Sergio. I’m just so angry.”

“I
know. I’m angry and hurt and frustrated and sad…and it has brought up so much
of what I felt when Marissa died. It’s all so terrible.”

“I’m
sorry. I know this must be even harder to deal with because of that. I imagine
it must be putting some strain on your relationship with Cy, too.”

“It
is. Adele has been the rock through it all. It’s almost like it hasn’t hit her
yet.”

“Seems
like she’s always been the one to keep a focus on the business and not get
emotional.”

“You’re
very observant. That’s one of her traits that kept me grounded and got me back
on track. Oh, Bridget, it is so good to talk to you. Can I see you? Would you
come here and talk?”

I
knew I needed to address the subject of Valerie’s memorial, and because of
Sergio’s fragile state, I thought maybe I should talk to him in person.

“Sure,”
I said. “Can I come over now? I could probably be there in fifteen to twenty
minutes.”

“That
would be perfect. Thank you. Just talking with you about it makes me feel
better.”

“It
helps me, too. See you soon.”

“’Bye.”

Sergio
sent the elevator down to get me. He was waiting in the foyer when the door
slid open on the fifth floor. We fell into each other’s arms in a comforting
embrace. This was not about romance. We needed each other for support to get
through this horrible time. Sergio held my hand as we walked to the living
room. The fire was blazing, and there was an open bottle of wine on the table
ready to be poured. He filled our glasses and sat back, putting distance
between us as he had the last time I was there.

“I’m
very grateful you called me. I’ve been alone with my thoughts for too many
hours and was not in a very good place.”

“I
understand. It’s very hard not to blame yourself. I’ve been going through a lot
of that myself. Why didn’t I notice the smell sooner? Why didn’t I realize
Valerie was having an allergic reaction when she walked in? There are so many
things I wish I could go back and do differently. But we can’t change the
outcome. We can only get to the truth. I want to know how Nicole came up with
this idea.”

“I
know, there are still so many questions,” Sergio said.

“Dane
and I just had lunch with Valerie’s parents. They’re going to be here all week
cleaning out Valerie’s house, and they want to plan a memorial celebration of
her life for next weekend.”

“I
want to contribute to that in some way,” Sergio said, aching to compensate for
what had happened.

“I
don’t think that’s a good idea. You must understand that it would be difficult
for Valerie’s parents to have any of your team take part in Valerie’s
memorial.”

“They
must
know that I am totally devastated by this and had nothing to do
with it!” Sergio said, his voice cracking, as he began to cry. He dropped his
face into his hands as the tears came uncontrollably. I put my arm around him
and held him for a long time as he sobbed. Finally, he was cried out, totally
exhausted and numb.

“You
need rest, Sergio. This sleep deprivation is not helping you deal with your
grief. Can you try to sleep?”

He
took a deep breath and nodded. He got up and slowly headed toward the bedroom. I
tucked him in, gently kissed him on the forehead, and headed home.