Deceived (21 page)

From Brandon’s perspective, no one had suspected that the killings were anything but accidents, except Brandon, who watched his brooding brother interact with animals. On the evening before Beauford, the sweet old beagle who who rarely wandered far from home, was found dead on the side of railroad tracks that were more than a mile away, ten-year-old Brandon had watched Victor place a hunk of meatloaf in a bag. When their mother left to work a night shift, leaving Victor in charge, Victor waited until eleven in the evening to leave the house. Brandon, who was only ten years old at the time, tried to follow Victor undetected. In an overgrown field, seventeen-year-old Victor had turned and backtracked.

Brandon didn’t realize that his brother was on to him until Brandon lay, face down, on the dirt path. The element of surprise gave Victor superiority that made the strength of his more mature body impossible to overcome. Victor flipped Brandon onto his back, clasped his hands around Brandon’s neck, and choked him. With moonlight overhead, Victor’s dark eyes staring into his, Victor’s hands choking him, and Victor’s knees digging into his ribcage, Brandon understood that his brother was capable of killing him.

Victor gave Brandon his first ever kick in the balls, then left. The bruises were bad. Brandon tried to hide them from his mother and he was able to do so, until after school the next day. When Rose saw the marks on his neck, he told her he had an after school fight. He refused to tell her with whom. When pieces of Beauford’s body were found, the neighbors had concluded that he’d gotten on the tracks and couldn’t get out of the way of an approaching train. Brandon, though, wondered whether a smart dog who never wandered so far from home had simply wandered, or whether he had been guided. He didn’t dare ask Victor anything about it. To his knowledge, no one ever did.

With Velvet’s hand on his shoulder, Brandon awakened and became aware that the needle was silent. There was a dull ache in the center of his back. Velvet said, “You keep moving.”

“Sorry,” Brandon said, shaking off the feelings brought on by the dream, awkwardly real feelings of being a ten year old who was scared of his big brother. “Have I messed you up?”

“No,” Velvet stood and stretched. He did the same. Brandon glanced at his watch. It was five twenty. “I need your back for another hour. I started another part of the grid,” Velvet said, pointing to an easel that held a paper drawing of the maze that she was etching on to his back, “and I can’t stop. The colors are gorgeous, by the way. More rum?”

He shook his head. He lay back on the table and this time, as he drifted, he saw Taylor, placing her lips on Michael’s cheeks. Yes, he thought, as he drifted closer to sleep. Now that was a dream worth having. He saw Taylor, taking charge of decorating the nursery. God. Those almond-shaped, greenish-brown eyes. Her questions. Her sharp, inquisitive mind. He couldn’t reconcile the composed, slender, yet shapely and sensual woman he knew as Taylor with the thought of an awkward and chubby seventeen year old who had promised herself that she’d be a virgin until marriage.

Taylor, talking to Anton, making the scared little boy smile while coaxing words out of him. He saw the beautiful rise and fall of Michael’s chest as he slept. He didn’t know if he’d have focused on the subtle movement, were it not for Taylor. She was not only irresistible. She was intuitive, and more important than knowing how to ask questions, how to push a person’s buttons, she knew when not to say anything at all. Last evening she had held his hand when he couldn’t say the words,
when my wife died.
Her soft grip had let him know that he didn’t need to say the words.

She got it.

***

Taylor watched Carolyn tie back the silk drapes while leaving the filmy gauze panels in front of the windows. With each quiet move, more light seeped into the bedroom, bringing with it the harsh reality of Collette’s death. Fresh tears stung Taylor’s eyes. Andi, who had returned with Taylor to Taylor’s home in the early morning hours, rather than going to her own home, was still sleeping in Taylor’s king-size bed. Andi stirred with the light, her long brown hair in disarray over her face and across the pillow, but she kept her eyes shut.

Carolyn said, “Your father, Claude, and Mr. Andrew will be here in an hour. I’m getting things together downstairs.”

As Carolyn slipped out of the bedroom, Taylor checked the time. It was seven thirty. Last night, after George had arrived at Collette’s house, Andi, Andrew, and Claude had arrived. George had his assistant take notes and make phone calls, and he postponed the Saturday board meeting until Wednesday morning, assuming that the services for Collette would be on Tuesday. Andi had pleaded with George to cancel the patron party and the gala. He wouldn’t. The events had to go on, he reasoned, because the events were important to HBW and to the museum, and they couldn’t be sidetracked or delayed because Collette had chosen this weekend to overdose.

If Andi couldn’t pull herself together to attend the patron party and the gala, George had said, she didn’t need to be there. He had given Taylor a harsh look that didn’t need accompanying words.

Taylor didn’t have the option of not attending.

While they were at Collette’s house, George had contacted the owner of the funeral home and the city coroner. Both men would be at Taylor’s house at eight thirty in the morning. They would have had the meeting at George’s house, but he did not want to have such a private meeting at his home, where party preparations would be in full swing.

Taylor’s phone vibrated with a text. It was on her bedside table. A text from Brandon read, “
Wheels up at 11:33; departing from Eagles Terminal A; on ground in Dallas for about three hours; land in NOLA on return at 5:10.
”

Oh God. She had forgotten about the trip with Brandon to see Rorsch’s documents. She responded with a text. “
I can’t make the trip.”

Andi was looking at her. “What was that?”

Taylor was going to explain, but tears started to stream down Andi’s cheeks, and Taylor felt her own eyes fill. Andi said, “I can’t believe that she’s gone.”

“I know,” Taylor said. Her phone vibrated with a return text.
“Why? Still embarrassed about last night?”

Her stomach twisted at the memory of what had happened between her and Brandon. Collette’s death, though, minimized the importance of the humiliating event. She felt an urge to tell him about the rest of the night, but she couldn’t reduce Collette’s death to a simple text. Tears slipped from her eyes. She wiped them away and typed, “
The night got worse after I left your house.”

“Everything OK now?”

“I can’t talk now. Will call later.”

Taylor put down the phone, spent a few minutes consoling Andi, then, when her own tears stopped, she stepped into the shower. Memories of Collette and all of that awful, cold water made her shiver.

More tears flowed as she turned up the hot water. It soothed her as it flowed over her body. She washed her hair and combed conditioner through it. When she got out of the shower, Andi was still in bed, but she was sitting up and holding Taylor’s cell phone.

“What happened last night with this person named Brandon Morrissey? These texts are interesting.”

Taylor shook her head. “Nothing and you really shouldn’t read my texts.”

“He’s asking if you’re still embarrassed about last night.” Her dark green eyes studied Taylor. “It sure sounds like something happened.”

“Please drop it, Andi.”

“I would,” Andi said, “except my friend who is always composed is beet red, and that same friend who rarely even seems interested in men is getting texts that I cannot decipher. So no,” she said, “I’m not dropping it.”

“Dad’s getting here in a half hour, with others. I need to get dressed. I don’t have time to tell you about it.” She started the blow dryer and glanced at Andi. “Aren’t you getting out of bed?”

“Not until you tell me what happened to prompt these texts.”

What had happened between her and Brandon was awful and humiliating, but compared to Collette’s death, it was easy to think about. She sighed. She eventually would have told Andi, anyway. She started with her idea that she no longer planned to wait until marriage to have sex. Andi responded with eyes-wide-open surprise. She sat up in bed, alert, a pillow on her lap.

“For the last year, I knew I couldn’t follow through with it,” Taylor explained, glancing at Andi, “so I thought I’d take your
just-do-it
advice.”

Andi waved Taylor’s cell phone in the air. “Wow. So tell me about him.”

“I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s complicated. He’s not judgmental. He doesn’t care about who I am, how much money I have, and he certainly wouldn’t run around the country club talking about how he’s the guy who got to take my virginity.” She chuckled. “He isn’t the country club type and he doesn’t strike me as the type to talk. He’s the toughest guy I’ve ever met, but he’s also one of the nicest.” Taylor felt her cheeks burn. “But it hurt. So I asked him to stop.”

Andi gave a slight head shake. “Wait. What did you just say?”

“It hurt. I asked him to stop. He did,” Taylor said, “and I’m mortified about the whole thing.”

Andi buried her face in a pillow. Her shoulders shook with a silent laugh, then she looked up, and asked, “How far was he in before you asked him to stop?”

“Please stop talking about it.”

“It’s his fault,” Andi said, rallying to Taylor’s defense. “He must have gone too fast. Jerk. What did he do? Give you a ten-second kiss then go at it?”

“No,” Taylor said, remembering the feel of his mouth on her breasts, his fingers inside of her, and the pressure of his tongue between her legs. “God, no. But he didn’t know it was my first time.”

Andi went slack-jawed.

Taylor added, “He didn’t know until after I asked him to stop.”

Andi rolled her eyes, “No wonder he’s asking if you’re,” she breathed in deeply, then howled with laughter, “embarrassed about last night. I know you have a subscription to Cosmo, because I’ve sent the magazine to you for the last five years for your birthday. Don’t you read the articles? It was only going to hurt for a second or two. Really. Don’t you know that?” Andi started laughing again, so hard she could barely speak.

It took Taylor a minute to see any humor at all, but then it was so pathetic that it was funny. Sort of. Taylor started laughing. Once she started, she couldn’t stop, and somewhere along the way, her laughter turned to tears, which became sobs.

“Collette would have teased me forever about this,” Taylor said.

Andi started crying as well, then she shook her head. “The Collette we used to know would have loved it, but she hasn’t been herself for years, even before Alicia died.” Andi paused, then glanced again at Taylor’s phone, reading Brandon’s texts. “What were you two doing in Dallas today?”

Carolyn returned to the bedroom with a tray of coffee and juice, then slipped into Taylor’s closet, leaving the door partially open. Taylor gave Andi a few details about Brandon’s involvement with Lisa and Lisa’s incomplete research. “From what we can tell, Lisa’s research echoed the long-held suspicion of Brandon’s father that his grandfather, Benjamin Morrissey, was framed.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Andi said. “He’s
that
Morrissey? The Morrissey treason case?” She narrowed her eyes. “He’s the lawyer that’s in those commercials, right?” Taylor nodded. “He’s gorgeous, but good God. Taylor. Your father will have a freaking fit over your involvement with him.”

“I’m old enough to have a personal life without regard to my father’s approval or disapproval.”

“Well,” Andi said, “that should be true, but is it?”

Taylor sighed. “I really shouldn’t care whether my father approves or disapproves, but obviously,” she drew a deep breath, “I do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be working at HBW. My father wouldn’t even want to be in the same room with Brandon, much less want to know that I was involved with him. Besides, I’m not
involved
with Brandon.”

Andi shook her head. “You can tell yourself that, but I was watching you talk about him, and it looks like you’re more involved that you think.”

“You have sex with men that you’re not involved with,” Taylor said, “don’t you?”

Andi frowned. “Not as often as you’re making it sound.”

“Well, men you aren’t in a serious relationship with.”

“Okay,” Andi said, “yes.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Wait,” Carolyn said, as she stepped out of Taylor’s closet with an arm load of laundry, “have I missed something really important in this conversation?”

Taylor drew a deep breath, glanced at Carolyn, and shook her head. Carolyn was more than a friend. She was a mother figure to Taylor, and, although she ultimately told Carolyn all details of her life, Taylor wasn’t ready to give Carolyn details of what had happened the night before. “Nothing important.”

Carolyn nodded, but her eyes were serious. “All right. If you say so.”

“You’re not me, Taylor. It’s taken years of practice to think of sex as only sex, and I know that you’re not there.” Andi shook her head, dismissing Taylor’s not-in-front-of-Carolyn-glare. “Carolyn’s going to figure out all of this anyway, and you know it. My advice was always just do it and
move on,
” Andi emphasized the last two words. “I don’t think that you paid too much attention to the move on part,” she paused, then started laughing, “or the
do it
part.”