Page 105 of Break the Ice
Shoving the door open and tossing my equipment, I throw on some street clothes and snatch my car keys up. My breathing labors, the muscles in my chest constricting.
I can’t be sure, but instinct leads the way; it tells me that there’s only one place I need to go if I’m truly seeking answers about what the hell’s going on.
Dad’s estate.
27. Marisse
“You’re the person that’s been texting me,” I say, my tone quiet and flat. It feels like a revelation that’s so simple on the surface yet must lead to more.
Truths I’m not sure I’m ready to confront.
Jerry doesn’t shy away from the accusation. If anything it’s the proudest I’ve ever seen her look—she strikes a pose with perfect posture, her chest thrust out and a satisfied smile curling on her lips.
“You’ve been walking around here like you’re the new Queen Bee. Hawk’s newest model. He traded in the old version.”
As she speaks, I notice it clear as day: the thread of bitterness that’s sewn throughout the fabric of who she is and how she behaves. It drips off of her as she casts a scornful glare in my direction.
I’ve made an enemy without even realizing I have.
“But I knew something was off about you,” she goes on. “I just had to figure out what. It didn’t take long. You made it two days before you cracked under the pressure. Did he not deliver the promises he made you?”
For a few seconds, the only reaction I’m capable of is a slow, confused blink. The way Jerry’s talking, she seems to believe I’m up to speed on whatever her grudge is, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Mr. Hawk made me no promises.”
She hacks out a harsh laugh that she pairs with an impatient roll of her eyes. “You think you play innocence so well, but I really do see right through you. I bet you thought you’d get away with it. I know all about you, Marisse Spears.”
“I’m sorry… you think I… that it was me who killed Mr. Hawk?”
“Save the innocent doe-eyed acting for the police,” she snaps. “Who I’ve already called, by the way. I’m not letting you out of the country. You can kiss those getaway plans goodbye.”
“I had nothing to do with Mr. Hawk’s?—”
“I said save it! I know the truth. Have you forgotten I was his PR consultant before you? I know all about what goes on between him and his new toys. You think I didn’t know you were meeting with him that night in his suite? You were the last one in his room.”
“That you know of. I left the party early. Someone else must’ve?—”
“Please!” she scoffs with another drawn-out roll of her eyes. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you for weeks. You and that asshole Golding thought you’d covered all of your tracks. But I have enough evidence to get you thrown in prison for the rest of your life. Photos and text messages and those bloodied clothes you thought were thrown out. Hawk will get justice like he deserves. And so with Quigley.”
“Were you sleeping with him too? I saw you together the night of the party.”
Her nostrils flare. “This isn’t about me. I’m not the one who the police are investigating. You are.”
I’m caught between deciding if I should pretend she’s delusional for her accusations or if I should try to reason with her about the situation. Palpitations pound away inside my chest, my heartrate skyrocketing, but I breathe through it and attempt to remain composed.
I decide on my best approach: calmly calling her bluff.
“You’re mistaken, Jerry. I had nothing to do with what happened to Mr. Hawk or Mr. Blackman. But if that’s how you feel, you have a right to pursue that. Good luck taking your accusations to the authorities. I’m sure in the very least they can refer you to an excellent grief counselor. Excuse me, I have a flight to catch.”
“I said you’re not going anywhere!”
Jerry quickly fumbles into her top desk drawer for a taser that she almost drops. It’s obvious she’s never handled the device a day in her life as she grips it unnaturally in her hand like you would a TV remote. Still, she holds it out threateningly.
“You make one move, I’m zapping you. Then you’ll get to lay on the ground and wait for the cops to come cuff you.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
I turn to walk away, deciding that if Jerry wants things to get physical, we can get physical. Few people are around and I’m pretty sure I could take her out if I needed to. I’m no fighter by any means, but Jerry would pose almost no challenge at all.
