A Portrait of Emily (27 page)

“Okay, okay…” Jerry’s father approached them. “Stop hogging my new daughter-in-law you guys. It’s time to get to the reception.” He kissed Emily on the cheek. “We have a little surprise for you at the house. Well…not so little actually.”

“What is it?” Emily smiled at her father-in-law and took his arm.

“Patience, young lady. You’ll see.”

Peter and Jeff had gone on ahead to the Lambert’s residence, taking with them the now framed portrait of Emily. They had arranged with the Lamberts to have it temporarily installed in the foyer of their home so that all the guests could see it on their arrival. Peter knew Emily didn’t want a big fuss made of it, but didn’t think she’d object to it being shown, along with all the other gifts.

The last month had been hectic for Jeff, and Peter had nagged him into taking some time off from work after he had helped the police wrap up both murder cases. Jeff had given in to Peter’s pressure and had agreed to a week’s vacation in Hawaii. They were to leave the day after the wedding.

Bob Thomson had confessed to Joey’s murder and in addition faced charges of attempted rape, torture, and kidnapping. He would be gone for a long time.

Feldman, Charles Hastings’ killer, had been arraigned on murder charges also, but Jeff had heard his attorneys were cutting a deal with state prosecutors. The outcome of that was still undecided, but Jeff felt pretty certain the charges would be reduced due to the extenuating circumstances.

The owners of the child prostitution ring had been arrested and were currently in jail without bail pending trial and, as they were non-citizens, possible deportation. McKenna had expressed his thanks to Jeff, and even Sharpe had reluctantly added his.

“Wow,” Peter exclaimed as they pulled up onto the Lambert’s driveway. “Will you look at this place?”

Jeff laughed. “Since when did you become the material boy?”

“But look at it—it’s so
grand
.”

Jerry had told them it was his father’s pride and joy. He had it built twenty years before from the profits of the first fortune he made. He’d had it copied from the exterior of a castle he had visited in France when he was a boy, never forgetting the grandeur of the place.

“It’s even got turrets.” Peter shook his head in amazement. “Thank God Jerry and Emily got their own place and don’t have to move in here.”

Jeff said. “C’mon, give me a hand with this thing. It weighs a ton. What’s it framed with anyway—marble?”

“Don’t be crass, my man.” Peter assumed a haughty air. “A good frame is made from only the best woods you know.”

“Feels like you have the whole tree in here.”

They were stalled in their banter by the arrival of two men who announced they were in Mr. Lambert’s employ and would take care of the heavy package.

“Mrs. Lambert has left us instructions on where to place it, sir,” one of the men told them as they shouldered the painting and carried it toward the house, Peter and Jeff following.

They entered the foyer of the house and found it even more opulent than the exterior.

“Jeez,” Peter whispered. “I feel like I’m in a museum.”

“Ssh…” Jeff watched the men prop Peter’s painting on a specially prepared dais by the far wall. They began to strip the wrappings from it and Peter walked over to help.

“Maybe if you turn it this way a little,” he suggested. “It’ll benefit more from the light that way.”

“Certainly sir,” he was told, then given a consultative look as they waited for his approval.

“That’s better. See Jeff? The light from the window in the ceiling there brings out some of the highlights. What do you think?”

“You’re the expert. I just think it looks terrific.”

The sound of voices from the doorway announced the arrival of Jerry’s parents and some other friends and family, along with Anthony and Justin.

“Quickly, everyone,” Jerry’s mother exclaimed. “Gloria’s keeping them busy outside. Everyone stand in front of the portrait so they can’t see it when they first come in.”

The guests scrambled to carry out her orders then waited expectantly for Emily and Jerry to walk in. As they did, the crowd in front of them parted to allow them a view of the portrait at the far end of the foyer.

Emily’s hands flew to her face in surprise and her eyes welled with tears as she gazed at her likeness, brought to life with such cunning craftsmanship.

“Oh, Peter. I can’t thank you enough for this.”

Jerry stood staring at his bride’s portrait with a stunned expression on his face. Finally, he turned to Peter. “I thought it was beautiful the first time I saw it in your studio, but it’s even
better
now,” he said. “I was right—you
are
a genius.”

Everyone applauded their approval and gathered around as the waiters appeared with trays of champagne.

“A toast!” Mr. Lambert shouted above the clamor of chatter and laughter. “A toast to my son, Jerry, and his
beautiful
wife, Emily.”

“Jerry and Emily!” Everyone roared at the tops of their voices.

“And to Peter Brandon,” Jeff whispered. He clinked his glass against Peter’s. “You’ve done it again, kiddo.”

§ § § §

The day after the wedding, Anthony paid Doctor Tom Watt a visit. Anthony had thought long and hard about what he would say to the man who had taken his innocence all those years ago. Several times, over the years, he’d contemplated confronting the doctor, but then would put his anger aside, thinking perhaps that Watt was filled with remorse for what he’d done and that might be punishment enough.

But this latest development, where the doctor had willingly aided and abetted his father in his revolting pursuit of young girls, Anthony could not forgive. The excuse that Anthony’s father might have been putting the screws to the doctor, blackmailing him, perhaps, into helping him because of what Charles Hastings knew of the doctor’s own weakness, would no longer do. Doctor Tom Watt had shown little compassion for the young victims—now Anthony would show him that same lack of compassion.

The doctor cringed visibly as Anthony entered his office unannounced. “Anthony,” he croaked, getting shakily to his feet. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Why Doctor Tom, aren’t you pleased to see me?” Anthony smiled at him as he settled himself, uninvited, into the soft leather chair opposite the doctor’s.

Watt collapsed back into his own chair and gaped at the young man he had molested years before. Nervously, he shuffled some papers in front of him. “I’m very busy, Anthony. You should make an appointment, you know.”

“Cut the bullshit, Doc,” Anthony said coldly. “I think you know why I’m here.”

“To exact revenge, I expect. But, surely that’s all water under the bridge. Look at you…” The doctor’s attempted smile looked more like a grimace “A fine, handsome young man in the best of health. No harm’s been done apparently.”

“You’re right, actually Doc. No harm’s been done, to
me
. But that’s not why I’m here. It’s like you said—water under the bridge. I don’t blame you for my being gay. I was probably gay before you sodomized and brutalized me.”

The doctor flinched before Anthony’s steady gaze.

“If anything, what you did to me should have repulsed me for life, but fortunately, I met someone who showed me that physical contact between two men, when shared with love, can be a beautiful and wonderful thing.”

“That’s—that
is
wonderful, Anthony.” Watt’s puerile attempt again to smile reminded Anthony of a death mask

“Yes it was, Doc. It was wonderful. The scars you left me were erased somewhat by Mark’s love for me. If my poor departed father had known that by sending me to military school he had given me the chance to meet my salvation, he would have
shit
.”

“Anthony,
please
.”

“But, like I said, Doc, that’s not why I’m here.” Again, he smiled across at the older man. “No, I’m here about a little girl.”

“A little girl?” The doctor’s voice quavered. “I—I don’t understand.”

“Let me refresh your memory then.” Anthony let the smile slip from his face. “My father brought a young girl to you some weeks ago, badly beaten I believe, by his own hand. You patched her up then put her out on the street and failed to report this incident to the authorities. From what I understand, this wasn’t the first time you had done this. In fact, it goes way back to when my sister Emily slashed her wrists and you didn’t report that either. Quite a history of cover ups, Doc, isn’t it? How many more times I wonder, did you have to cover up my father’s crimes?”

“Anthony, you have to understand—”

“Oh, I understand, Doc. My father had you by the balls, didn’t he? Because of what he let you do to me, you couldn’t refuse him. Right?”

The doctor stared at Anthony, his pale face now so pinched by despair and fright that for a moment Anthony thought he was going to keel over.

“Oh please, don’t have a heart attack
now,
Doc,” he cried with mock anguish. “There’s something I need you to do for me.”

“What? I’ll do anything to make amends, Anthony.”

“Good to hear. I want you to call the police and confess to your part in my father’s sordid liaisons.”

“No, I can’t—I’ll be ruined!”

“You’ll also go to jail as an accomplice,” Anthony told him, his smile returning. “Oh well, it’s either that or I tell the world what you did to me. The press, the police, the Medical Board; just about anyone who’ll listen.” He paused, then added almost as an afterthought, “It’s funny, you know, how much more harshly the rape of a child is dealt with by the judicial system.”

“Oh, my God.” The doctor wept. “Anthony, please…I’m begging you. Please
don’t.
”

“
Please don’t
?” Anthony looked coldly at the cringing man. “You know Doctor Tom; it seems to me that I said those exact same words to you that night, several years ago on our little fishing trip.” He stood up and leaned menacingly over the doctor’s desk. “As I remember it, all my pleas for mercy were ignored by you. Now, I’m simply returning the favor.”

He turned to go then paused by the door. “You have until tomorrow noon to call the police—or I will. Bye, Doctor Tom.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Peter rolled over on the beach blanket and looked at Jeff who lay sleeping beside him. The week in Hawaii had done them both good, he thought as he admired Jeff’s tanned and muscular body. There had been way too much stress in their lives for the past few months. He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed out at the blue Pacific, at the few surfers daring the breakers, and the less adventurous folk paddling at the water’s edge.

“Paradise,” he murmured to himself, lying back down again and letting the warmth of the morning sun caress his bare skin. A whole week of doing nothing other than eating, sleeping, sunbathing, and making love was just what Doctor Peter had prescribed, and it had worked wonders on their libidos.

Right now, Emily and Jerry would be on their honeymoon in Tuscany and Anthony would have moved in with Justin in LA. He really had to call Andrew on his return to the mainland. He’d been neglecting his friend recently and he didn’t want that to become a habit. Andrew had been too good a friend to him when he really needed one—and now he had a feeling Andrew could use a good friend to turn to.

Beside him, Jeff stirred and squinted at him, holding his hand up to shield his eyes. “Was I asleep?”

“Yes, you
was
. I was just thinking of Andrew and how I need to call him when we get back.”

“Oh, no. We’re going back?”

“Sorry, but you’re the one who insisted we only take a week off.”

“I know, I know,” Jeff groused, rolling over on top of Peter and tickling him.

“Argh…” Peter didn’t put up much of a struggle. “Not in public, please.”

Jeff leapt to his feet, dragging Peter up with him. “Oops!” he exclaimed, looking down at the bulge in his shorts. “Now look what you’ve done, you naughty boy.”

With one quick motion, he threw Peter over his shoulder and charged down the beach, flinging himself and Peter into the waves.

“You bully!” Peter spluttered as he surfaced.

“You love it,” Jeff yelled, throwing his arms around him and lifting him off his feet.

“You’re right—but you don’t have to be so damned smug about it.”

§ § § §

Two days later

“Good to be home,” Jeff said, stacking the suitcases at the foot of the stairs.

“This from the man who didn’t want to leave Hawaii,” Peter teased.

“I know. Still, it’s always sweet to come home.”

Peter grinned at him. “I’ll just go next door and tell Mom we’re back.”

“Bring her back for a drink, why don’t you, if she’s not
busy. I’ll take the luggage upstairs then I’ll fix us a drink.”

“Be right back.”
Peter ran the few steps to Eve’s door and rapped a merry tattoo on the window
pane.

His mother beamed a welcoming smile. “Oh, I missed you both,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Where’s Jeff?”

“He’s in the house. Come on over. He’s making drinks for us.”

“Just for a little while then. You must be tired after that long journey.”

“Not at all. We’re totally rested up. How about this tan?”

Eve smiled at him. “You look very handsome darling.” She eyed his Hawaiian
shirt. “That’s a bit startling isn’t it?”

“Wait ‘til you see Jeff’s—it’s even louder.”

Jeff chuckled when he saw Eve’s eyes widen as she gazed at his shirt of wildly
mixed colors and birds of paradise. “Your son picked this one out for me.”

“And I’m always bragging about his good taste. I must say,
you both look very colorful.”

Jeff handed Eve her martini and Peter his Scotch, then they walked out
together on to the patio.

“I saved a couple of interesting articles I saw in the newspapers while you
were gone,” Eve said after sipping her drink.

“Oh, yeah?”

“One I especially liked—Jeff got mentioned several times, saying he helped
crack the child prostitution ring.”

“That reminds me,” Jeff said. “I have to call that children’s shelter tomorrow
and volunteer our time. That is, if you still want to help, Peter.”