A Thousand Lies (22 page)

Lana saw the cut and the blood on Brendan’s lip.

“Did she do that?”

“She’s out of her head. I just got in the way,” he said.

Lana was upset. “What do we do, Grayson? Do you think we need to get some private nursing?”

Brendan stared. He didn’t understand people like this and didn’t care if he was overstepping his bounds. He turned on her like he had on the doctor.

“No, you do not hire a stranger to do your job. She needs family. If she gets upset again, one of you pick her the hell up and put her in your lap. Rock her like you rocked her when she was a baby. And if you can’t do that, someone call me because I damn sure will.”

He couldn’t handle their lack of compassion any longer. Julie was unconscious, his mother and sister were waiting for him back home, and these people were clueless.

He felt like he’d just abandoned a baby to wolves as he walked out of the room.

Chapter Twelve

Brendan pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine, then sat staring blankly at the apartment building, wishing there was a way to change the last twenty-four hours of his life. He had been given a painful lesson in how fast it could go from near-perfect to nearly over. He didn’t know what kind of a future he and Julie had left, of if they even had one. She was so hurt, and so messed up in her head she might never want a normal relationship with a man again. And the moment he thought it, he felt guilty. All that really mattered was for her body to heal and pray her spirit healed along with it. He was sick at heart and afraid of tomorrow, yet he made himself get out of the car, bracing himself for a barrage of questions.

The air was thick, almost too heavy to breathe. As he strode toward the entrance, he caught a faint scent of smoke from the fire that had burned through the Quarter, and an even stronger scent of charcoal. Someone was grilling nearby. It seemed like a lifetime since he’d considered something as ordinary as firing up his grill.

The old tomcat that haunted the Dumpsters behind the apartment was lying beneath the shrubs near the front door, licking a paw. The cat looked up at Brendan, hissed to show his displeasure at being disturbed, and slunk farther away into the bushes.

“Yeah, I know just how you feel,” he said as he entered the building and took the elevator to the second floor.

As he neared the apartment, he could hear his little sister’s laughter and guessed they must’ve had a good day. It was a happy sound. He hadn’t heard her laugh like that since before Delle was burned.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself to face the family and was about to put the key in the door when it suddenly swung inward.

“You’re home!” Linny crowed and threw herself into his arms. “We ate at the Crab Shack and brought food home for supper, and Sam bought beignets.”

Sam sat at the end of the sofa, grinning. There was a deck of cards spread out on the coffee table. It appeared all the laughter had been because of the ongoing game of War.

Brendan tugged her ponytail. “How did you know I was out there? Are you psychic or something?”

She shrugged. “I just know stuff.”

He let the comment slide. “Did you save me any beignets?”

“Yes. We have lots. Enough for breakfast even.”

He glanced over at his brother. “So who’s winning the card game?”

“She is,” Sam said. “She cheats, but she’s winning.”

“I play like Daddy taught me,” Linny said.

Sam’s smile disappeared and Brendan frowned.

“And considering your daddy’s negative attitude, do you think that is the smartest thing to do?” Brendan asked.

Linny looked up. “Did I do something bad?”

“Do you know how to play without cheating?” Brendan asked.

She nodded.

“They don’t cheat again and it will be okay.”

“All right,” she said and began gathering up the cards to put away.

“Is Chance with Mama?” Brendan asked.

Sam nodded.

“I’ll go tell him I’m back. You guys are probably more than ready to leave, but I really appreciate you helping out today.”

“Yeah sure,” Sam said. “Hey, I didn’t even ask, how’s Julie?”

Brendan couldn’t speak the words. Instead, he shrugged. “She had a rough day.”

Sam frowned. “I’m sorry. Look, anytime you need us, just call. Chance and I have copped-out on you long enough. We have just as much responsibility here as you do, okay?”

“Yeah, and thanks. Just give me a sec,” he said and went down the hall. He interrupted their conversation as he walked into the bedroom where his mother and brother were visiting.

“Hey, you’re back,” Chance said.

“How is Julie?” Delle asked.

He was sticking with the same story for all concerned. “She had a bad day.”

Delle started to say more and then stopped. There was a look on her youngest son’s face she didn’t like.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Brendan nodded.

The brothers left soon afterward, and as soon as they were gone, Delle sent Linny to take a bath. She knew there was more to the story than Brendan was telling, and when she heard him banging cupboard doors in the kitchen, she got up.

Brendan saw her come in and stopped to pull out a chair out at the table. She sat gratefully.

“How are your feet, Mama? Was it hard on you to be up so long?”

“They’re okay. I took another pain pill when I came home. I hate to keep taking them, but nothing else helps once they get bad.”

“Did you all have a good day?” he asked.

She smiled. “We had a wonderful day. I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed myself so much.”
He smiled. Her joy was lifting his dark mood.

“That’s great. You both needed a day out. After living in a place the size of Wisteria Hill and then coming to an apartment in the middle of the city, you were probably feeling a bit caged.”

“This place has been a godsend to both of us,” Delle said. “Now sit down and tell me the rest of what’s wrong.”

“Want a beer?” he asked.

She smiled. “I don’t mind if I do.”

He got two longnecks out of the refrigerator, popped the tops, and handed her one. The first drink was cold and yeasty as it slid down his throat.

“That hit the spot,” he said softly.

Delle took a sip of hers, then set it aside and waited.

Brendan kept staring at the ring of condensation left behind on the table and then set the bottle down, cupped it between his hands and looked up.

“She can see.”

“Praise the Lord,” Delle said.

He shook his head. “She saw what he’d done to her body and pretty much lost it.”

“Oh Jesus, I didn’t think…”

He kept talking. “She had a bad reaction to the pain meds. Caused hallucinations, paranoia and a whole host of things better left unsaid.”

Delle hands curled into fists. “That will pass, right son?”

“They think so.”

“What about her parents?”

A muscle jerked at the side of his mouth. “They’re oblivious. Her mother started talking plastic surgery, and her father told her to forget what happened and put it behind her. It took a visit from her grandmother to set things right, but by that time, she was having trouble with the medicine. She’s gone through so much and it’s far from over.”

Delle shook her head in disgust. “All that blue blood and money and that’s the best they can do? I suddenly don’t feel so guilty about the life I gave my children.”

He frowned. “You gave us a great life, Mama. You loved us. You always had our back. Those are the things that matter most to a kid, okay?”

She shrugged. “Are you hungry?”

He thought about the milkshake he had abandoned hours ago. “I could eat.”

“We brought home barbeque ribs and baked beans for supper. Heat them up now if you’re hungry.”

“Sounds good,” he said and got up.

By the time Linny appeared, Brendan had finished eating and was making coffee. She sniffed the air.

“You ate barbeque.”

He turned to acknowledge the slight accusation and instead, had a moment of pure clarity. The childish innocence of her face was already changing into true beauty. She was going to be a stunner when she was grown, but it hadn’t happened yet. The long end of her ponytail was wet from her bath, and her clean T-shirt and gym shorts were sticking to her body, which meant she’d only half dried. He remembered doing the same thing at that age, always in a hurry.

“I did eat barbeque. I was hungry and I thank you for bringing it home.”

“You’re welcome,” she said and slid under her mother’s outstretched arm.

Delle nuzzled her nose under her little girl’s ear.

“You smell good.”

Linny beamed. “I used Bren’s bubble bath.”

Brendan started to tell her it was actually Julie’s bubble bath, but then that would elicit an entire conversation about why Julie might be taking a bath in his apartment when hers was right down the hall, which wouldn’t be a good idea.

Delle was still working on the beer when Brendan sat down with his coffee and the sack of leftover beignets.

Linny saw the sack and abandoned her mother’s embrace as she slipped around the table to where Brendan was sitting.

“I suppose you want one of these, too,” he said.

“Can I Mama?” she asked.

“May I, not can I,” Delle corrected. “And yes, you may.”

Linny happily bit into one of the sweet pastries, which sent a shower of sugar onto her bare legs and Brendan’s knee.

Delle frowned. “Oh, Linny, you’re getting sugar all over yourself and Bren.”

“I don’t mind,” Brendan said, taking comfort in the feel of her warm little body leaning against him. She looked up with powdered sugar on her upper lip and joy in her eyes.

“I sure do love you, Brendan.”

A lump rose in his throat. “I love you, too, baby.”

She took another bite, talking with her mouth full. “We’re going back home soon. You’ll have to come see my new room.”

He saw the truth in his mother’s eyes and felt sick.

“So when did you decide this?”

She shrugged. “I always knew I would. I guess hearing Sam and Chance talking about what your Daddy was doing to the place reinforced my decision.”

He was trying to quell a surge of panic. He had no way of protecting them once they were out of his sight, but at the same time, his mother was a grown woman. She had to live her life the way she saw fit, and it was his job to accept her decisions.

“Chance said Daddy painted my room pink. I like pink,” Linny said, licking sugar off her fingers.

Brendan handed her a paper napkin. “I know you do. Queen Belinda is the queen of pink.”

“When do I have to go back to the doctor again?” Delle asked.

“Wednesday.”

“My feet are getting better.”

Brendan knew she was saying this to reassure him she was ready. “I know, Mama.”

She frowned, then reached across the table and patted his hand. “It will be all right.”

He heard the words, but nothing about it felt right. Later, after everyone had gone to sleep, he got his laptop out and powered it up. He hadn’t used it since he had gotten it back from the repair shop and decided to scan the job sites to see what was available in the area. He was confident he could get work, but without any marketable skills, he couldn’t be picky. It occurred to him as he read through the listings, that he could go back to school. He had a couple of years of college under his belt. There were all kinds of possibilities, but at his age, he didn’t just want a job. He had to think about the future.

****

Lisette Branscum walked out onto the second-floor balcony of the room she was renting to look down onto the sight below.

Thanks to a customer who had dined regularly in her café, she had a roof over her head until she could figure out what to do next.

The streets were busy, and the air smelled of the bougainvillea blooming only a few feet above her head. There was the sweet smell of pralines made on site at the shop across the street and the faint fishy smell of the riverfront. But it was the smell of burned wood from the fire that had swept through the Quarter that made her shudder.

But for the grace of God, a whole lot of people could have died, including her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting the sounds of New Orleans wash over her. It was nearing sunset, for which she was grateful. At least it would be cooler when the sun went down.

She’d been leasing the building that burned, and the only insurance she’d had was on restaurant fixtures and personal property, not nearly enough to set up shop somewhere else on the same level. She’d given the high-end hookers her blessing to move on to other places, so she wouldn’t be pimping girls anytime soon, either.

A mosquito buzzed about her head, then moved away. For whatever reason, they never bothered her. Something in her blood, her mama used to say. She shifted the patch over her eye to ease the pressure on a sore spot above her eyebrow. Sparks from the fire had blown onto her face and burned her skin before they’d burned out.

A loud crash suddenly echoed within the narrow street, then a loud string of curses. From where she was standing, she could see a homeless person digging through a Dumpster in the alley across the street as well as a man fighting with a woman up on the corner. There was a woman somewhere below her balcony cursing steadily without anyone responding, which left Lisette to assume the woman was either crazy-talking to herself, or giving hell to someone over the phone.

Lisette guessed that, in the grand scheme of things, her situation was no worse and no better than anyone else’s, but it felt like it. Her biggest disappointment had come in finding out Anson Poe had an airtight alibi for the night of the fire. After learning it was arson, she’d been certain he was responsible, although she had to admit that the night her world went up in smoke, some woman in the crowd had been kind enough to point a finger in her face, call her a whore, and tell her she was getting what she deserved. If a total stranger could be that vicious, then there was no telling who was to blame.

She wasn’t so naïve as to assume she hadn’t made enemies in her business, and without anything but gut instinct to blame Anson Poe, she had to accept he would escape legal justice. However, there was another kind of justice she could enact all her own in case it was him. All she needed was to pay a trip to Mama Lou and get the voodoo priestess to cast a spell on Anson Poe that was foolproof from lies.