“Shh, Babe. Don’t blame yourself. Remember, that’s the one rule we agreed on a few months ago. We can’t blame ourselves for my father’s wrongdoings. Okay?” she shakes her head and appears plagued by my words. Her finger brushes the side of my cheek then over my lips to silence me. “Don’t say another word unless you need to. I’m here to listen, and I’m sorry I was such an ass this morning. When we first met I used to drive you into these conversations, not realizing just how bad things were from your past, and I fell off track this morning, pushing you again. I’m also sorry I jumped to the conclusion that it was about me, and I shouldn’t expect you to perform every moment of the day. But that’s my usual selfish behavior, right?”
“No, you’re insecure, just like me.” I kiss her forehead and run my fingers through her damp hair. I love it when we’re in a whirlwind of emotions and wild fits, but sometimes we need these calm moments as well; and it’s usually after sex when it happens. My parents know I’m sensitive, and Sophia will always get a piece of my heart whenever I feel she needs it, but most people who I come in contact with will simply see my darker side. As Sophia says, the only time I smile is when I’m with the people I love.
“I need to know what happened this morning. Did you learn anything about the article, and what’s with the broken window, and why did you ask your father to head out during our breakfast?” she asks.
“I don’t have much information to pass along. The article seems meaningless, but I called my father down to the Scarlett to question him about it, see if he could shed some light on the subject.”
“Then the window was a lie just to talk to him?”
“I wish. The fucking thing’s gonna cost a good grand to be replaced. Someone threw a rock at it, shattered it to pieces. So, it wasn’t a lie, but it was a good excuse to get him down there.”
“And he didn’t say anything?”
“Nope.” I can tell by her questioning that she didn’t see the photos on the backside of the article, and I’m not going to bring it up unless it turns into something that may hurt her.
“So who called when we were fucking?”
“Good question. Haven’t checked.” I step inside and check my cell. “Haverty. Must be about the glass. No message though. I’ll touch base with him after I clean up.”
“Sounds good. Have you had anything to eat today?”
“Is that an offer?” I smile and turn on the water in the shower.
“I’ll have something waiting in the kitchen when you’re finished. Five minutes?”
“Or less.” I step in and lather up, getting rid of the chlorine stench on my skin. I’m fucking starving right now. Long morning, then sex. I need some fuel. Shampoo...lather...rinse...done. Brush teeth... fix hair... shave... clean clothes... aw, my wife gawks at me like I’m a fucking new man.
“You look hot.”
“Thanks, darling,” I say in a southern drawl. “Chicken sandwich?”
“With mayo and lettuce, just the way you like it.”
“You’re the best, Soph.”
“I know.”
“Ha, my egotistical wife has returned.” The buzzer for the downstairs door sounds as I take my first bite. “Must be Haverty.”
“He’s probably worried that you didn’t pick up.”
“I’m sure he knew what we were doing. He’ll assume I gave you a good spanking after the prank you pulled.”
“His idea, Cove. Not mine.”
“But you didn’t mind, right?” I press the button next to the door and ask who it is.
“Cove Everton?”
“Yes.”
“St. Louis Police Department. We’d like to speak to you. May we come in?”
“What the fuck do they want now?”
“Shh, Soph. You know it could be a number of things, and more likely than not it’s questions about your father.”
“Bullshit, they’ve never come knocking at our door about him, they always call on the phone when they want to speak with you.”
“Then it’s the window incident.”
The buzzer sounds again and I answer.
“No, you can’t come in,” I respond. “I’ll come down and talk.”
“I’m going with you,” she says.
“I know,” I reply.
“I’ll come back upstairs if it’s about my father, but anything else I want to be a part of.”
“I know,” I repeat.
We ride down the elevator and walk through the lobby hand in hand, out the front door, and into the afternoon summer heat. It’s fucking humid and windy. Looks like rain clouds are forming, hopefully a storm will roll in and cool things down.
“Mr. Everton? I’m Detective Perry and this is my partner...”
“Matthew,” I cut in and reach my hand out to a detective I know all too well. He’s from the special victims unit, and we’ve worked closely with one another in dissecting the events that took place during the past decade inside of Paul Jameson’s pornography business, and all of Jameson Industries for that matter.
“So this is about my father. If you don’t need me for support, Cove, I’ll be upstairs.”
“Mr. Everton, you’ve been accused of sexual assault. Can you tell us your whereabouts over the past three hours?”
My heart drops to the sidewalk as Sophia stops dead in her tracks and does a one-eighty in less than a millisecond.
“Jesus, Perry. You could have waited until the wife got inside.”
“Sorry. Let’s talk in private.”
“Fuck no!” Sophia shouts. “Who would say such a thing?”
“Am I under arrest?” I say in my calmest voice, even though every square inch of my body is starting to sweat, including my teeth. Oh fuck. I’m gonna fucking pass out. Keep talking so you don’t panic.
“No, you’re not under arrest at the moment. We have some questions we’d like you to answer. Can you tell us where you were?”
“He was at our business, The Dark Scarlett. We had a broken window and then he bought me chocolate and we made love. Alright? That’s been his day.”
“Soph, don’t say another word. Come on, let’s go back inside.”
“Mr. Everton, if you don’t answer our questions it will be construed as refusing to comply, and then we do have the grounds to place you under arrest on this charge. I would think twice about attempting to walk away from a few simple questions.”
“Sophia, go inside.”
“No. You didn’t do anything, Cove. Answer their questions so we can clear this up. Who would accuse you of such a thing anyway?”
Fuck, they can see the beads of sweat on my forehead; I know it. What do I do? Fucking think, asshole. Think. “See if my father’s home, tell him to get our lawyer on the phone.”
“Hell no, I’m not leaving your side. I’ll get a hold of him from here.” She holds out her hand for my phone and makes the call.
“I was exactly where my wife just said I was.”
“We stopped by your business,” Detective Perry continues while Matthew is silent. He knows me. He knows I wouldn’t do this and I can tell he doesn’t want to be here. “Your accuser said you were there, but when we arrived your security guard said you left around ten-thirty and haven’t been back since; it’s now one o’clock. Can you tell us...”
“Your mother and father aren’t home,” Sophia says.
“Try his cell, but not my mother’s. Don’t call her yet.” I stare into Detective Perry’s eyes. I don’t want Sophia to hear that I drove to the Tribune news building after leaving the Scarlett, and then to Kaitlyn Moore’s house. It will sound like I was looking for her, when the reality is I was searching for my father. Fuck, why did I do that? This better not have anything to do with her.
“Mr. Everton, one last time. Did you go anywhere else during that time period?”