The Winter Wedding Read online

  “Yes. We really appreciate you taking this time to come out and speak with us.” Karena gave a warm smile. She was by far the most people-oriented Lakefield sister.

  While Monica was the most candid and Deena was the most personable. Cheyna found it interesting that each sister had grown up in the same household, with the same parents and had become such totally different women. She admired each of them regardless and envied the close relationship they’d maintained as siblings despite their differences. Noreen sat at the helm looking dotingly on each of her daughters and then resting her soothing gaze on Cheyna.

  “It was no problem. My job is to be attentive to every need of my client. Your big day is coming up, so if you have any concerns that I can alleviate for you, I’m here to listen.” Cheyna reached into her bag and pulled out the black and white journal she’d been using to take notes about the wedding since the week after Thanksgiving.

  “I’m sure this is going to be a phenomenal event,” Deena stated. “I know my sister and when she starts planning something she plans it down to the tiniest detail, like those bars of soap that has their very creatively designed monogram on it. Max thought the bridal party package that was mailed to our house last week was both grand and thoughtful.”

  Karena smiled and nodded her agreement. “Ella got hold of one of the mini notepads with our names on them so I’m down to only three left. But they were so cute and practical.”

  “It was Cheyna’s idea to include some practicality to each package,” Monica added.

  “A very good observation to be made,” Noreen stated.

  Cheyna was totally confused, but she smiled and accepted their compliments.

  “What we also really wanted to make sure that we shared with you, Cheyna, was how well the re-branding campaign turned out.” Monica reached for her glass of water and took a sip.

  “Yes, I’m so excited about that,” Noreen told them. “It’s wonderful to see a small idea come to fruition. That’s how I felt when Beverly and Alma Donovan and I started the Karing for Kidz House in Pirata, Brazil. One idea to help the underserviced and abandoned children has since spawned into four additional houses in other countries, including the U.S.”

  “And Max and I will be forever grateful to you and the Donovans for starting that endeavor since that’s how we found our darling Sophia.” Deena told her mother with a heartwarming smile. “But yes, I want to tell you about those commercials. We had a chance to view them earlier today and thought they were spot-on with their message and I looked damn good in my photos.”

  Karena chuckled. “You always think you look damn good.”

  “That’s because I do,” Deena replied.

  Cheyna had seen the commercials as well. Logan had sent her an email inviting her to the meeting he’d schedule with Paul Lakefield and the family to go over the entire campaign. Cheyna had declined to attend the meeting, citing other obligations. Logan sent her a secured link via email so that she was able to view the campaign specs and the commercials.

  “I called Max immediately after the meeting to tell him to thank his cousins Parker and Savian for giving us those premium time slots on the Donovan Network. They’re going to air the whole week of Christmas hopefully reaching parents who are wondering what to do with their children during the holiday break from school.” Monica was smiling as much now as she talked about their family business as she had when she spoke to Cheyna about her wedding to Alex.

  A year ago Cheyna would have never thought this was the real Monica Lakefield. She’d only read about her in magazines or whenever the Lakefield Galleries appeared in the newspapers, but her impression of Monica had always been a cold and distant woman. A woman who definitely lived up to her Ice Queen nickname. The woman sitting across the table from Cheyna now was totally different than that persona. Cheyna couldn’t help but wonder if being in love had been the changing factor in Monica’s life.

  “We’re all pretty excited about the campaign. You and Logan worked really well together to pull that off.” Karena stated as she picked up her cell phone, looked at the screen and then set it back on the table.

  “I really had nothing to do with that. Logan is very good at what he does.” Cheyna offered.

  “True,” Monica replied. “But I really think this was a collaborative effort. I saw how the two of you talked about each of the pictures taken during the engagement photo shoot and you were included on all the updates and question emails Logan sent to me and my father. Alex even mentioned a connection between the two of you when he saw you at the charity basketball event.”

  Cheyna did not want to think of what Alex thought of her after that event. She still hadn’t gotten over the embarrassment of waking up to see her client, among other men she didn’t know staring down at her.

  “We’re just business associates.” The words sounded hollow to her ears and Cheyna prayed the Lakefield women did not pick up on that fact too. “So is there anything else about the wedding you’d like to go over?”

  Cheyna was so ready to end this meeting. These next days were going to be pretty busy for her at the office. Sarah was still trying to find out the first name of Evan’s investor while the three of them confirmed all the moving parts between the caterers, florists, musicians and the venue. Sitting here in the center of the most bizarre status meeting she’d ever attended was not her idea of fun, nor was it productive.

  “I remember when Alex and I first met. I didn’t want anything to do with him. And he was too busy to chase me around trying to conquer all of my past demons.” Monica looked directly at Cheyna.

  Karena shook her head. “Sam and I were like that too. I ran to Pirata to get away from what was growing between us.”

  “That’s because both of you are crazy. I knew I wanted Max and I made no qualms about it to him. He was the one who had the issues and had to back away,” Deena said.

  “Excuse me? You had no past issues that needed to be dealt with? Does the name Kevin Langley ring a bell?” Karena asked Deena.

  Deena waved a hand. “What Kevin did was a result of his own issues, not mine. I’m pretty clear on those facts and the fifteen year jail sentence he received should provide enough time for him to come to that conclusion as well.”

  “It doesn’t really matter how two people come to be together. Only that they realize they’re meant to be and stick it out when the going gets rough.” This was Noreen speaking in a tone that seemed wise and respectful.

  Cheyna felt like sinking in her seat and prayed that a hole would open up in the floor and swallow her before she could be any further mortified. This was an intervention and she did not like it one bit.

  “When I invited you to spend Thanksgiving with us I was happy that you turned us down,” Monica continued. “Because of the reason that you turned us down. But then you weren’t present at the meeting earlier today and when I asked Logan where you were, he looked at me with an expression that almost exactly matches yours right now.”

  “Monica—” Cheyna began. “With all due respect, this really isn’t part of our business together.”

  “No. It’s not. But Cheyna, I’ve been working with you very closely for the better part of this year and what I’ve seen concerns me. It concerns me because it mirrors what my life used to be. All work and no play.” Monica had leaned forward, folding her hands on the table.

  “And hallelujah she got over that affliction,” Deena quipped.

  “Everybody’s not a born romantic like you, Deena,” Noreen gently chastised her youngest daughter.

  That’s right, Deena was the romance author. Cheyna was in big trouble now.

  “I get it.” Cheyna told them in an attempt to speed this thing along. “I know that I need to relax and enjoy life more. And I was trying, or rather I’m going to try harder in the new year.” Providing she could put Liam’s murder, Volker’s accusations and Cassie’s near-death experience behind her.

  “Do you really, dear?” Noreen asked. “The one thing I�
�ve learned in all my years of marriage and of living for that matter, is that you only get one life. It may not be what you would have selected for yourself, but it’s the one you were given, so you’ve got to live it to the fullest.”

  Before Cheyna could respond, Noreen continued, “Paul and I didn’t always have an easy time of it. To be honest, Paul had a lot of baggage from his past that he had to come to terms with. Expectations that were placed on him within his family and those that he brought into our lives. It took a long time for us to overcome that, but we did.”

  “I am living my life to its fullest,” Cheyna defended. She’d been happy before signing the contract to plan this wedding and thus meeting Logan. She’d been content with her life and proud of her accomplishments. Now everything was a mess.

  “Do you love him?” Deena asked her.

  It was an extremely intrusive question especially coming from the Lakefield that Cheyna had the least exposure to.

  “I don’t know what it feels like to love someone, so I couldn’t answer that question.” It was truthful, direct and the last thing Cheyna planned to say on the matter.

  Her ringing cell phone facilitated that silent declaration. “Please, excuse me,” she said as she reached into her bag and retrieved the phone. Without even looking at the screen Cheyna got up from the table and walked into the other room. She answered with a sigh of relief.

  “Cheyna Dansfield.”

  “Ms. Dansfield, this is Lt. Ramsey Sinclair. I need you to come down to the precinct.”

  “No.” Cheyna’s reply came quick. “If you have more questions you need to contact my attorney.”

  “I not only have more questions, but I also have another dead body and you were the last person to call his phone.”

  “What? Who?” Cheyna asked but something deep inside told her whose name she was about to hear.

  “Boyd Stubbing.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Cheyna was once again at her attorney’s office. She hadn’t needed an attorney in two years and yet in the past two months she’d been in this office three times.

  “Stop pacing, Cheyna. Nervous equates to guilty in their eyes,” Tamara warned.

  Cheyna hadn’t realized she was pacing. She’d simply wanted to keep moving, to keep going with her life without all these new obstacles continuously popping up.

  “I didn’t kill anybody.” Cheyna had murmured said those words repeatedly as she drove from the Lakefield estate to the city.

  “And they still don’t have any real proof that you did.”

  “How do you know that? He called this meeting didn’t he?”

  “Exactly,” Tamara stated as she closed the file she’d been reading on her desk. She stood slowly from her chair and Cheyna looked at the beautiful black woman who was being paid to save her life.

  Tamara was as tall as Cheyna, her skin a deep shade of brown. Her hair was close-cut, her make-up was impeccable with bold cranberry colored lips, charcoal eye shadow with an audacious stroke of royal blue. The suit she wore today was a very pale silver tone, the jacket with a black floral design. On the jacket’s lapel was a flower that matched the blue shadow on her eyes. She came from around the desk as if she’d known that Cheyna was assessing her outfit, and showed off her toned legs and four-inch heel black pumps.

  “If they had concrete evidence that you committed either of these murders he wouldn’t have called you on the phone. He would have gone to wherever he thought he could find you and arrested you. But he hasn’t done that, Cheyna. In all these weeks you have not been arrested for any crime, because you haven’t committed one.” Tamara spoke in a calm and self-assured tone.

  Cheyna recalled a time when she used to speak that way. Now, she had to wonder what had happened to the woman she’d worked so hard to become.

  “I don’t know why all of this is happening to me. And I don’t know how to fix it,” she admitted.

  “Let me do my job. I can handle the legal part of your life. That’s what you pay me for. The rest, well, whatever that is, I’m sure you’ll tackle in your own time.”

  Was it that obvious? Cheyna wondered if she were wearing a sign on her forehead that said “love struck” or some other such nonsense because it seemed everyone was full of advice for her today.

  Everyone except Lt. Sinclair who walked into Tamara’s office minutes later, after Tamara’s assistant had announced his arrival.

  “My question is simple, Ms. Dansfield, where were you on the night of Monday, December 10th?” The lieutenant was dressed in full uniform this evening.

  Tactical pants, black boots, black shirt with a V-neck police sweater over it and a heavy black jacket. His badge was bright and displayed once again at his hip. He tipped his hat back a bit on his head as he spoke and stared directly at Cheyna.

  Nervous equates to guilty. She replayed Tamara’s words in her head and willed herself to not fidget, not stutter, not blink too much and not move.

  “I left my office at four o’clock and went to the Vembrant Dance Studio on East 85th Street. I stayed at the studio until seven thirty and drove to Carroll Place for dinner. I arrived at my apartment around eight forty-five or close to nine.” She recited what she’d already told Tamara.

  “Can you explain why your call was the last one received by Boyd Stubbing?” Lt. Sinclair did not take his gaze off of her. He stared as if he could see right through her. Cheyna suspected this was an intimidation method and squared her shoulders to counter his measures to break her down.

  She looked at Tamara first and when her attorney nodded that she could answer the question, she did. “Boyd and I were working on a wedding together. He was the hired photographer. I needed to tell him about an additional part of the event that he was to cover.”

  “And did you speak to him?”

  “I left a message,” she replied.

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “You can answer,” Tamara said.

  “Monday, the 10th. We had a meeting at my office at two-thirty in the afternoon.”

  “What time was that meeting concluded?”

  “Three-thirty.”

  “And you called him at three forty-five. Why? If he’d just left your office?”

  Tamara interrupted. “She already told you that she had to tell him about another part of the event he needed to attend.”

  Lt. Sinclair continued to stare at Cheyna.

  “I can have proof of my client’s alibi on your desk by the end of business tomorrow. Are we finished, Lieutenant?” Tamara asked.

  He looked at Tamara with annoyance and then back to Cheyna. “The men in your life just keep dropping dead, don’t they? You’re giving a new meaning to the word heart breaker.”

  “And this interview is over,” Tamara stated and stepped in between the lieutenant and Cheyna. “But before you leave can you tell me if you followed up on the flowers I reported were left at my client’s place of business and in her car?”

  “No.” He spoke evenly. He was clearly not happy with how this interview had gone. “There was nothing to follow-up on since your client discarded the evidence and did not come into the station to file an official report.”

  “Bullshit!” Tamara said and then smiled prettily up at him. “But that’s fine for now. I have your contact information so I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he replied. “And the next time, Ms. Dansfield it will be with an arrest warrant.”

  Cheyna did not falter. She’d remained standing tall and holding the lieutenant’s gaze as he exited the office. After Tamara gave her more advice on what to do and what not to say or do where the police or anything involving these two murders were concerned, she’d walked out of the building and headed to her car. Once she was belted in the driver’s seat Cheyna let out the breath she’d been holding. She let her head fall against the steering wheel and whimpered. Just one quick sound that was a substitute for the scream she wanted to let loose instead.

&n
bsp; Her head hurt. Her chest hurt. Her hands shook. And tears sprang to her eyes. But she would not let them fall. She could not.

  She wasn’t guilty and she desperately needed to talk to someone other than the person she was paying to vouch for that bit of truth. But Cheyna had no one. She’d never had anyone. That thought made her want to cry even more. She pulled her cell phone from her purse and was about to connect it to her Bluetooth so she could begin her drive back home, but opened the screen to make a new call instead. She dialed Logan’s number and put the phone to her ear. Before it could even ring, she disconnected the call.

  Cheyna had no one. She’d never had anyone. And she’d survived. She would continue to survive on her own. She had no other choice.

  Chapter 15

  The Winter Wedding

  Monica Lakefield’s big day had finally come.

  Cheyna was glad. The last few days she’d been a nervous wreck. Things had gotten so bad that at one point she’d gone to Monica and Alex and told them everything that was going on. She’d felt compelled to do so because she didn’t want them to be blindsided if all that she was going through somehow got out. It could happen. The police were known to leak things to the press in cases they were having a hard time solving.

  In this case, Lt. Sinclair wholeheartedly believed that Cheyna was guilty. Tamara had told Cheyna that he’d followed-up with every person she’d listed to corroborate her alibi. He would be coming to her office next. Talking to Sarah and Evan and then quite possibly Monica and Alex since it was their wedding that Cheyna and Boyd had in common. She still couldn’t believe that Boyd’s throat had been slit, just like Liam’s. Tamara was convinced it was the same killer. Cheyna thought of Zeke Volker. She was positive that Boyd had also worked with ZV Events, but what could he have possibly done to piss Zeke off?

  In the end, Monica and Alex had been extremely supportive. As it turned out they’d already been briefed on the situation by Monica’s brother-in-law, Sam. Cheyna should have thought of that after Logan told her that he’d hired Sam to look for Liam’s real killer. But she hadn’t and still she felt better having talked to Monica and Alex herself.