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“I love you, baby,” Marcus whispered in Panthea’s ear. “I love you so much.”
17
There was a standoff of sorts going on in the Daniels household and Scott was tired of it. He didn’t understand why this debunked, rent-a-cop wanna-be was asking him all these damn questions in the first place. But a part of him felt better just to be talking about Abril, even if it was only in this capacity. “I’m just struggling with the fact that I wasn’t there when she needed me most.”
“So it’s news to you that she basically had a string of men who were financing various phony business ventures?”
“You drink Crown?” Scott asked, not even attempting to hide the irritation in his voice.
Garrett’s right eyebrow inched up a bit. “I can hold my own with the best of ’em,” Garrett said, answering Scott’s challenge.
“Well, I’m pouring myself a drink. Just making sure I wasn’t gonna be drinking alone,” Scott said as he walked over to the bar in his study.
He and Garrett threw back three rounds within a matter of minutes. Scott poured himself another then faced Garrett once again.
For the first time since arriving and talking with the man, Garrett recognized that smug look on Scott’s face was masking deep-rooted sorrow. Looking at Scott Daniels’ face was like looking at a man in mourning. His features were etched with worry lines and an expression that said he hadn’t seen happiness in a while and wasn’t sure when it would pass his way again. Was he just sorry she was dead or sorry he had killed her? Garrett couldn’t tell which.
Scott sighed. “You ever had the perfect woman?” He shook his head and sipped from his snifter. “I mean the perfect woman. I’m not talking about the most beautiful, most talented or even the best set of lips. But I mean just perfect.” He shook his head again, like he was testifying about something that no one else could begin to understand. “Perfect in every way.”
“I’ve had some pretty good women in my day,” Garrett etched him on.
“Abril was the perfect woman. She wasn’t going to win the Miss America title, but she was nice on the eyes. Her body was average, nothing too over the top. You know the type—just enough of everything. But man I tell you, she knew how to make me feel like a man. I mean like a real man.”
“So it’s an understatement to say you loved her?”
“I thought I had been in love before. I really did. I mean I’d experienced the butterflies and all those other simple things they try to convince us signifies love, but Abril was a real woman who wasn’t afraid to please her man.”
Garrett had seen and met Panthea, and from everything he noticed about her, she seemed perfect too. But he just wanted to keep Scott talking, so he nodded when he felt it was appropriate or asked a few questions here and there. As Scott continued to talk, Garrett could feel his anger building.
“It was like after a while; she knew just what to do to make me feel better. If the wife was giving me hell, Abril would work it out for me. She knew when I needed some ass or when I needed something else.”
Scott sipped his drink and closed his eyes. This gulp was bigger than the others were. “Yeah, I loved her because she knew how to become every fucking thing I needed before I even realized what I needed.” His eyes narrowed and he looked at Garrett. “Then to find out this shit was nothing more than a fucking game to her?” Scott’s voice grew loud and angry.
“Makes you mad, didn’t it?”
Scott nodded his head and got up to pour another drink. “Shit yeah it makes me mad! How the fuck do you think I’m supposed to feel?”
“I know I’d be mad as hell if some bitch was doing me like she was doing you,” Garrett pushed harder, trying to get a rise out of Scott.
He shook his head. “You don’t know how it feels to be a sucker until you been one."
Garrett decided to back off and give him time to let the thought sink in. When he felt it safe to move forward Garrett continued with his questions. “So what about the restaurant?” he asked. Garrett had learn from the investigation that Olivia had done, that at the time of her death, Abril Arrington had been getting money from Scott to open a restaurant.
Scott sighed again then shook his head. “Yeah, the infamous restaurant. When you love somebody and she’s ambitious, has goals and dreams and you can help make things happen, shit you do what you can to help.”
Garrett nodded, signaling his agreement. “So how did you help?”
“First it was twenty-five thousand to help get things off the ground,” Scott admitted. He drained his glass and winced at the liquor that sent a blazing trail as it ran down his throat. He got up to pour another shot. “Maybe a month or so after the twenty-five, it was ten to do some work to bring the building up to code.” Scott sat down and tilted his glass toward Garrett. “You want more?”
“Nah, I’m straight,” Garrett assured him.
“So here I am, a man, shit a fool in love. Am I gonna let a little ten grand stand in the way of my woman and her dr
eam—the woman who brought romance and passion back into my life?”
Garrett didn’t say so, but he could see Scott’s point. Here he thought he’d found someone who genuinely loved him, of course he wanted to help her out.
“Ten turned into an additional five then two weeks later there was the emergency pipe incident, another fifty-two hundred.”
