The Call She Didn’t Expect

Freeda’s phone buzzed again.

Abigail White.

Freeda looked irritated. Her jaw tightened. Of course, it was her.

Winnie’s voice ran through her head, sharp as ever. Don’t pick up. Don’t let them drag you back into their mess.

Kris shifted on the couch, eyes narrowing. “She just doesn’t quit… Jeez.”

Winnie sat at the edge of the bed, close but not quite touching. “If you answer, put it on speaker. We listen together. No private poison.”

Freeda swallowed. Her hands shook again, which annoyed her more than anything else.

Scott stood in the doorway, mug in hand, sleeves pushed up, hair still damp. He didn’t interrupt. He just watched.

“It’s her,” Freeda said.

Scott glanced at the screen. “Want me to take it?”

Freeda’s mouth tightened. “No.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I said no.” She grabbed the phone.

She tapped the speaker and set it on the table.

“Hey.”

Abigail’s voice slid through, calm. “Good. You finally picked up.”

Freeda’s stomach twisted. “Why are you calling me?”

“Because you deserve to hear it from me,” Abigail said. “Not from him.”

Freeda gave a short laugh. “I’ve heard from him.”

“I know.”

Freeda stiffened. “How?”

“He told me you walked out. Said you humiliated him.”

Kris made a sound of disgust.

Freeda’s jaw clenched. “Of course he did.”

“He also said you listened at the door.”

Freeda’s eyes flicked to Scott.

“He knows because I told him,” she said.

“Yes,” Abigail replied.

Freeda’s mouth went dry. “Then why are you calling?”

“Because he’s coming for you,” Abigail said. “And I don’t mean with flowers.”

Winnie’s fist tightened in the blanket.

“What do you want?” Freeda asked.

“I want you to meet me.”

Freeda laughed sharply. “You must be bored or insane.”

“I’m tired.”

“Tired?”

“Tired of being the only one who really knows what he’s capable of.”

Freeda’s breathing quickened. “You were sleeping with my fiancé.”

“I was living my life. He lied to you, not me.”

Silence.

Then Abigail said, “He told you he was marrying you so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

Freeda’s eyes burned. “Yeah.”

“That’s what he told me, too.”

Freeda went still.

“He said marrying you was simple. Safe. You’d go along with it. After the wedding, you’d settle in.”

Freeda didn’t answer.

Kris muttered, “He said that about you?”

Freeda waved her off.

“He told me I was the real part of his life,” Abigail continued. “Said that to keep me quiet.”

Freeda let out a brittle laugh. “So I was the costume, and you were what? The prize?”

“I was the habit.”

Freeda dropped onto the bed.

Scott stepped inside. “Freeda.”

She raised a hand without looking at him.

“I’m not calling to fight,” Abigail said. “I’m calling because you’re about to be the enemy and you don’t even see it yet.”

Freeda’s pulse thudded. “What enemy?”

“The one who embarrassed him. The one he has to control now, or people think he’s weak.”

Her stomach tightened. “Control.”

“Meet me,” Abigail said.

“Why?”

“I know what he’s planning. And there’s something you don’t know.”

Freeda’s breath caught. “What?”

“He didn’t pick you because he felt bad for leaving you broke.”

Cold slid down her spine.

“He picked you because of your father.”

Freeda stared at the wall. “My father’s dead.”

“I know. Doesn’t matter. He still wants the name.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Meet me. Or don’t. But if you don’t, you’ll keep getting blindsided.”

“Where.”

“The Meridian Lounge. Private room. Two hours.”

“I’m not coming alone.”

“I figured. Bring whoever you want.”

The call ended.

Freeda stared at the phone.

Scott stepped closer. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“That was a threat,” Winnie said.

Kris frowned. “She said something about your father?”

Freeda nodded. “Yeah.”

“We do this smart,” Kris said.

Winnie looked at Scott. “You’re coming.”

“I planned to.”

Freeda frowned. “Why?”

“If Randy thinks you’re alone, he’ll corner you. If he sees you’re not, he’ll slow down.”

“Protected by you?” Winnie said.

“Protected by not standing alone.”

Freeda swallowed. “So I’m just something to parade now.”

“No. You’re not alone.”

Silence.

“What do you want, Freeda?” Winnie asked.

Freeda lifted her head. “I want them to stop treating me like I’m something they can pass around.”

“Then we go,” Winnie said.

Scott nodded. “If it smells like a trap, we leave.”

“And if Randy shows?” Kris asked.

Scott’s eyes hardened. “He’ll learn what no means in public.”

Freeda said quietly, “I don’t want him turning this into a show.”

“I know.”

The hostess led them down a hallway to a door marked PRIVATE.

Winnie squeezed Freeda’s wrist. “Breathe.”

The door opened.

Abigail White sat inside, legs crossed, glass of water untouched. She smiled.

Not warm. Not cruel. Just certain.

“Freeda. You came.”

“Don’t smile at me.”

“That’s fair.”

Her eyes shifted to Scott. Something flickered. Recognition.

“Scott Baley.”

“Abigail.”

Freeda looked between them. “You two know each other?”

“More than you think.”

Scott didn’t move. “Say what you called for.”

Abigail turned back. “Randy didn’t pick you by accident.”

Freeda’s pulse hammered. “Then tell me.”

Abigail pulled a slim folder from her bag and set it on the table.

“Open it.”

Freeda didn’t move.

Abigail opened the folder herself.

One page.

One record.

One line highlighted.

LEGAL STATUS: ESTATE SUCCESSOR — ACTIVE

Freeda’s lips parted.

Her father wasn’t supposed to have left anything behind.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

She pulled it out.

Randy Owen: I see you.

The blood drained from her face.

Winnie hissed, “He’s here.”

Scott’s eyes shifted to the tinted glass.

A shadow moved outside the door.

Then Randy’s voice, calm:

“Freeda. Come out. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But for both our sakes, let’s not do this the hard way.”

Abigail watched her.

She didn’t look surprised. She looked Satisfied.

“Now,” she whispered, “you’re about to find out why he chose you.”