Transparency Charles Royce (phonics reader .TXT) 📖

with Tracy, with me, and even Lennox and Micah every now and then. I told her to get a roommate, that spending five grand a month on an apartment she barely used was just stupid. But she liked having it. It made her feel a part of New York. And I was more than happy for her to be with me, any chance I could get.”

“So why didn’t you move in with her?”

“Single gay man. New York City.”

“Oh.” Shawn pauses, squinches his brow. “Oh.”

“Do you see what I’m trying to say here?” Josh bends over, picks up the folder from the floorboard. “How could a woman who barely spends time at her apartment, who feels safe with Lennox and loves him with all her heart, turn around and plan an intricate scheme from said apartment, frame the company, Micah, and Ghost at the same time, then kill Lenny with her bare hands?”

Shawn soaks in the information, like a sea sponge forced onto the shore of an uncharted island. When all the evidence found in Jenna’s closet was brought to light, he’d hopped on the “Jenna is guilty” train, along with most of Manhattan and the rest of the world. Haylee, his loving wife, had her doubts that Jenna could have done this alone. And now this Josh fellow? Why should he trust …

“I know you don’t trust me,” Josh says. “That was clear at Micah’s trial. But aren’t you curious?”

Shawn glances at the red folder. “A little.”

“At NYU, Jenna studied to be a lawyer. The whole time you were defending Micah, Jenna was trying to help you. If you’ll give us a chance, we’ve got quite a story to tell.”

Shawn looks at Josh, then at the cracked windshield, then the red folder. He looks up, breathes in, and lays his head down on the steering wheel. “God help me, let’s try this again.”

C h a p t e r   6

JENNA RAISES HER head as the door to the holding room opens to three men in silhouette coming through the doorway.

“Josh Harrison and Shawn Connelly, once again.” Detective Penance lets them through. “I’ll leave you to it, Mr. Connelly.”

“Appreciate it, Detective. If you don’t mind, some universal privacy?” Shawn looks up at the camera in the corner and its blinking red light.

The detective pounds on the two-way glass. The red light goes dark. “If you need anything, I’m just on the other side of this wall.”

Shawn nods to the detective, then sees Josh place the folder in front of Jenna.

“Before we get started,” Shawn announces, “I have a few things to go over. By being here, it does not commit me to take your case, or represent you in any way. However, this is still covered under attorney–client privilege as I am evaluating your case. Anything you say is covered by this privilege. So be honest.”

“Yes sir.” Josh drumbeats his hands on the table.

“Jenna, I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I apologize. I’m guessing you guys have uncovered some information that may absolve you from any wrongdoing here. I promise to listen with an open mind.”

Jenna nods, but remains silent.

“Where should I start?” Josh sees that Jenna is not going to take the lead.

“I have no idea what you guys are about to tell me,” Shawn says. “But Jenna, I’d love to hear from you.”

Shawn knows from his experience at trial that Josh can embellish on his storytelling.

“Jenna, do you mind if I take this?” Josh asks.

“Go ahead.”

“Well, it all started the night Lennox was murdered.”

Oh, great, Shawn thinks. He braces himself for Josh’s slanted story …

C h a p t e r   7

I LOOKED AROUND in awe, marveling at the red-carpet frenzy and the gathering crowd. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect New York evening. The mid-August air was crisp with a rare pre-autumn chill, and the lights from the paparazzi added just the right touch to Manhattan’s midtown nightscape. Several news outlets had already coined it “The Event of the Decade,” so I was praying the evening would go smoothly. I considered this particular event my high society debut. I hoped I’d thought of everything.

Nothing could taint this night.

I turned to my date, Jenna Ancelet, the most beautiful woman in the world, and I smiled. She took my arm, and we began walking toward the entrance, both of us gushing at the turnout. As we entered the lobby, I looked around at the bustling swarm of entertainment’s elite and publishing’s power players.

“Great event, Josh!”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“How did you come up with all this?”

The compliments circled all around me, calming my anxiety, sure, but there were so many accolades, it began to make me feel a little uncomfortable.

C h a p t e r   8

“CAN I JUST stop your little flashback right there?” Shawn says. “I understand it was a wonderful night for you, Josh, but at that point, my best friend was bleeding out from thirty-three stab wounds.”

Shawn looks at Jenna, who doesn’t look back.

“He was my ex, don’t forget,” Josh says. “But I get it. It was my first huge event, so I apologize if I was being grandiose. Sorry, really, I’ll try to be more succinct. But bear with me, I need to share context.”

“I’ll keep interrupting then,” Shawn says.

With a twinkle in his eye, Josh takes a deep breath and picks up right where he left off …

C h a p t e r   9

I SHRUGGED OFF the compliments and began focusing on frivolous details. Was the red carpet red enough? Were the photographers getting too many closeups of the celebrities, or were they getting the sponsor backdrop in the photos as well? Gotta keep the sponsors happy. I recognized the familiar downward spiral of my thought process and stopped myself.

“Josh, can you believe this?”

Breaking through the choking fog of my own anxiety was the deep, smoke-beaten voice that could only belong to Jenna, the scantily-clad but flawlessly-appointed goddess