Naive Charles Royce (great novels .txt) 📖

“Brilliant,” Detective Penance says, with a hint of sarcasm.

“Diabolical would be another word,” Astrid replies. “I mean, look at the last date. He must’ve gotten the laptop right after she murdered Lennox, or right after he did, and taken it back a few days later.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble,” Officer Palino interjects.

“Yeah.” Astrid squints as she scans the email exchange again. “She must’ve been in over her head. I mean, why videotape her friends, kill one of them, then try to frame someone else?”

“The fucking company, that’s what I think,” offers Detective Penance. “What I wanna know is, where’s the letter? The one that Lennox supposedly wrote pointing to …”

Anticipating someone would ask, the intern lays a single page on top of the emails they’ve been reading.

Date: August 2, 2015

To Whom It May Concern:

My name is Lennox Holcomb, Jr. Currently I reside at 142 Henry Street, Apt 7, in New York, New York.

If you are reading this, then something has happened to me, and I’ve needed to take this precaution to point you in the direction of someone who has threatened my life, inflicted pain on my friends, and has even shared my heroin addiction with my supervisor at my workplace, which almost resulted in my termination. Though I am grateful for the wake-up call of almost being fired, I write this letter to lead you directly to this man, this terrorist, this monster.

On March 21 of 2010, I began a program of recovery. The fact that I had a heroin problem is one that I do not hide any longer, I am not ashamed of, nor has any bearing on this letter. As of this letter, I have been clean and sober for over four years.

The man’s name is Mr. Bastien Morrell. People call him Ghost. He was my heroin dealer for over four years. I was the source of much business for him, as I not only pointed high-profile clients in his direction, but I also dealt for him on occasion. When I left his growing operation to become sober, his business all but dried up. His resentment of me and my friends resulted in threats, encounters at my workplace, and the harming of two of my close friends, each stabbed several times and left for dead. Thankfully, both have recovered, although they are not the same. Neither am I.

Again, this monster’s name is Bastien Morrell. He lives at 152 Avenue D, Building C, Unit C-412, here in the city. He has a son. Whatever you do, make sure the boy’s okay.

Please make him pay for what he has done.

Respectfully,

Lennox Holcomb, Jr.

“Well, we took care of that,” Detective Penance jokes. “Hold on, look at that address! That’s where Lily was, but they didn’t have the building number. Hopefully they’ve found her. I’ll be right back.”

“My God, Bron, please keep me posted. Hopefully the boy is okay too.”

Astrid thumbs through the pages on the table in front of her and looks at the computer. The still of Micah hugging his dead husband lingers on the screen. She turns away and looks out a window. “It’s getting dark,” she says.

C h a p t e r   5 6

Darkness surrounds the Brooklyn suburban home of Shawn and Haylee Connelly. Shawn’s private investigator Allen Pinchot is on the back patio, talking on his cell phone, breathing in the brisk, late winter air. Shawn is in the guest bathroom across from the kitchen, relieving himself of the long day.

Micah is enjoying the break from talking about the civil case, relaxing on the couch while Haylee pours them all drinks. She pours a glass of water for herself. Micah notices.

Allen Pinchot comes in from the cold.

“Guys!” Allen is barely able to contain his excitement, and looks at Haylee and Micah. “And gals, sorry. Where’s Shawn?”

“Here.” Shawn comes out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Just got off the phone with my contact at the station. They just arrested Jenna for the murder of Lennox.” Allen opens his mouth as if to scream, but no words come out.

Micah stands but doesn’t move. Haylee stops handing out the shots of whiskey she’s poured.

“Jenna. Sweet Jenna. For real?” Haylee asks.

“Yes. Apparently, there was an explosion at her place today. If we’d been watching the news, I’m sure we would’ve seen it.”

“I would’ve heard it,” Micah says. “She lives just around the corner from me.”

“That’s the thing,” replies Allen. “Apparently, the laptop that recorded the videos from that fucking camera were found in her place. All those videos are still on the laptop. Jenna’s laptop.”

“No!” Shawn says.

“Ghost set the camera up. There are email exchanges back and forth from Jenna to Ghost. Jenna was the mastermind behind it all. Tried to set Ghost up, then planted a bomb to kill him. That’s their theory for now, but obviously they are still looking into it. So, Micah, you were found innocent by a jury, but now the whole city will know it for a fact.”

The room is silent. Everyone is hanging on to every word Allen is saying. Haylee continues handing out shots.

“As a result of all this malicious nonsense, I have no doubt the civil case will be dropped.” Shawn shifts his gaze to Micah.

Micah forces a smile and looks around the room.

Haylee is uncomfortable with the lack of response. “Cheers!” She offers up her water. Everyone holds up their glasses.

“Cheers!” Shawn and Allen reply.

Haylee motions for Shawn to join her on the back patio. Shawn shrugs and follows her.

They walk in silence, each taking a seat on the wire mesh chairs with the green cushions. Shawn senses something is wrong and scoots his chair closer to her.

“Does this mean you’ll be defending Jenna?” Haylee is shaking.

Shawn stands up and closes the glass patio door. Micah watches. Shawn gives him a Don’t worry, I got this wink and turns back to Haylee.

“If she asks me, I will.” Shawn returns to his chair.

“Even after all of this? What