Finding Forever (33 page)

“I'm sorry,” Brooklyn said. “But I don't even know your name.”

“Nice try, Red,” Pretty Boy replied. “You're very clever. But I'm not telling you anything more until I hear more from you. We need to have an understanding, an agreement. I don't know if I can trust you.”

“You can,” she said.

“If I let you go, what's to stop you from leaving here and telling the cops?”

“Well, I haven't yet.”

“That's because I have your phone.”

“But I've had this one.” She pulled her right hand out from behind Simone's back to reveal Simone's phone.

“Then why didn't you call the cops?”

“Maybe I didn't call the cops because I had a hunch that you aren't a bad person, just maybe a good person who's made bad choices.”

Pretty Boy slid the gun across the floor to her feet. “It's a toy. I never meant to hurt anybody.”

Brooklyn picked up the gun and inspected it. Indeed, it was made of light plastic.

“All I want is a fresh start,” he added.

“Are you religious?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Because I am. I'm Catholic.”

“And?”

“Religious or not, you would probably agree with me that the truth shall set you free,” Brooklyn said, paraphrasing her favorite verse, John 8:32.

“Easy for you to say. The truth will get you the story, but it
could also get me killed.”

“Look. I don't know what you're talking about exactly, but whatever your situation, it also might set you free.”

Pretty Boy exhaled. “So. This blog of yours.”

“
Deadline Diaries.
”

“Yeah. Let's say I told you where Taylor was, who was keeping her, and what she was doing in there. Would you run that story?”

“If it were true, yes. Of course I would have to verify it with at least another source first.”

“But no one would ever know I told you.” He pointed at Simone. “Not even her.”

“Of course not. But you better talk fast because she's been out a while and is about to come to.”

“Okay,” Pretty Boy said. “How do I know for sure that you won't tell anyone?”

“You would have to trust me.”

“I'm not good at trust.”

“I have a really strong belief that nothing amazing or important in this world has ever happened between two people without trust,” Brooklyn said. “Without trust between two lovers, there would be no true love, no genuine marriage, no sacred bond. Without trust between a kid and their parents, a kid would feel unprotected and uncared for. Without trust between governments, there would be no peace. Without trusting a pilot to do his job, no one would ever get on a freaking plane. And no one would ever have surgery if they didn't trust a doctor to do their job and not kill them. So what I'm saying is that without trust, no journalist could ever break a big story.”

Pretty Boy paced the pantry. Simone stirred with a moan. “I've spent my whole life wanting to trust people. I wanted to trust my mom when she bailed on me and sent me to live with my crack-head uncle in ninth grade. Then I wanted to trust my
uncle when he got me hooked on meth and forced me into hustling, selling my body to old guys so we could both get high.”

“I'm sorry,” Brooklyn said. “I had no idea.”

“And I wanted to trust my boss when he got me out of jail and promised to give me a clean slate. But he lied, Brooklyn. Instead, all he has done is blackmailed me and forced me to do his dirty work.”

“Such as?”

“Deliver him his so-called packages.”

“But you can stop this. If I report your boss and reveal just how evil he is, you can stop him. Then you can be free.”

“You don't understand. Everyone believes him. He has power over so many people. Cops, politicians, Hollywood managers and agents. He also controls the media. My boss plants stories on
STARSTALK
all the time. He has the power to have me put back in prison. He is always saying that without him, prison would be my Forever Land.”

“That's a tad dramatic, don't you think? I mean, who is this guy?”

“I call him Dr. Evil,” he replied. “Look, he came to me when I was at the lowest point of my life. I had just been arrested for my third violent felony and faced life in prison for it. I was only nineteen. So he came into the county jail one day and promised he could make the old me disappear, get me totally off the grid and into hiding. But with one hitch. I would have to work for him. Of course I did. I had no other option, and I
trusted
him. He paid off the cops, arranged to have my identity changed and my criminal record cleared. But for the last two years, he has held that power over me.”

“But now you can turn the tables on him,” Brooklyn said.

“Yeah, right.” He laughed.

“People only believe lies, no matter how big, when they don't know the truth,” said Brooklyn. “As a matter of fact, in
the absence of truth, people will believe any lie, no matter how big. So tell me, where is she?”

“I can tell you where Taylor is,” Pretty Boy said. “But the bigger story is about where almost every major young celebrity over the last ten years has gone when they have supposedly suffered from an addiction or an eating disorder or dehydration or exhaustion or a nervous breakdown. Even depression or getting arrested for assault or drug possession. And Brooklyn, what could happen next to Taylor is even bigger.”

Brooklyn stood up and carefully stepped toward him. “I will not reveal your identity. Not to police, not to my readers, not to anyone, including this boss of yours. You have my word.” Stopping an arm's reach from him, she extended her right hand. “Shake?”

Pretty Boy's large hand enveloped hers as he shook it. “My name is Beckett.”

“Nice to meet you, Beckett.”

“I will tell you everything, but . . .” Beckett glanced at Simone groaning back to consciousness. “But first I have to go pay a visit out in the desert. I have some unfinished business with him.”

Beckett handed Brooklyn back her phone. “Now that I have your number, I'll text you tomorrow.”