The Other Brother (27 page)

Chapter 5 0

i unday was an atypical June day in Atlanta: cool, overcast, 1 and windy. Severe thunderstorms were forecast for later in the evening, forcing families planning Father's Day barbecues to enjoy their feasts before the sky dumped its rain on their gatherings, and keeping eyes glancing warily at the thickening shroud of gray-black clouds.

"I'm a little worried about this dinner," Gabriel said to Dana as he steered his jeep onto his parents' street. Brisk wind harried leaves and debris across the road in front of them. "So much is still up in the air, with Isaiah at large and Nicole recovering. I wonder if anyone will be in a mood to celebrate Father's Day, of all things."

"Stay positive," Dana said. "We might have a great time. We deserve a little happiness after all we've been through lately."

He parked in the driveway. Pops answered the door.

"Happy Father's Day!" Gabriel and Dana said in unison. Gabriel thrust a wrapped gift and a card into his father's hands.

"Thanks, kids," Pops said. He welcomed them inside, kissing Dana on the cheek and giving Gabriel a hearty handshake.

Pops looked much better than he had a couple of days ago. His posture had improved, his shoulders once more thrown back, broad and proud. His eyes were clear and alert. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed. Dressed in a beige buttondown shirt and dark slacks, Pops resembled the dignified father and CEO Gabriel loved and admired.

"Something smells good," Gabriel said. "What did Mom cook for dinner?"

"Believe it or not, I cooked dinner," Pops said. "I put some filet mignons on the grill, and we'll have potatoes, salad, a couple other dishes. I admit it's not up to your mom's gourmetchef standards, but I wanted to turn over a new leaf this year. Why shouldn't I cook for my family for Father's Day when I'm so blessed to have you?"

"That's very nice of you," Dana said.

"No kidding," Gabriel said. "The last time Pops cooked I think I was seventeen, when Mom had come down with a bad case of the flu"

"What did he cook?" Dana asked.

"Hamburger Helper," Gabriel said, and all of them laughed.

They walked into the grand salon. Mom greeted them with hugs and kisses. Nicole sat in a chair near the fireplace and rose to hug them, too.

Nicole looked good. Her skin was radiant and her eyes sparkled.

"How've you been doing?" Gabriel asked her.

"I'm fine during the day," she said. Her face darkened. "Nights are a challenge, though. I've been taking sleeping pills or else I wouldn't get any sleep at all. Nightmares."

"I feel you," Gabriel said, remembering his dream from the other night.

"I don't think they'll end until the police catch him," she said. "Until I know for sure that he's locked away and can't get to me again."

Gabriel wished he could reassure her that Isaiah would be captured soon, but he didn't because he didn't entirely believe it. Isaiah was cunning, and with his talents, who knew how long he could evade arrest?

"Whether they catch him or not, I won't let him do anything to you again," he said. "That's a promise."

Nicole hugged him again. "Thanks, Gabe"

He pinched her cheek. "That's what big brothers are for."

"Dinner should be ready shortly," Pops said. He wrapped an apron around his waist and headed toward the patio door. "Marge, can you get drinks for the kids, please? I'm going to check the steaks"

"What would you guys like?" Mom asked. "We have sweet tea, wine, beer, and soda"

"Sweet tea's fine for me," Dana said.

"Gabe?" Mom asked. She began to walk toward the kitchen. "What would you like?"

"Let me see what kind of beer you have," Gabriel said and followed his mother.

He trailed her to the kitchen on purpose. It was the first time, since visiting Nicole at the hospital, that he had been alone with her.

They had unfinished business to discuss.

As Mom filled a tall glass with ice and lifted the pitcher of sweet tea, Gabriel opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of Samuel Adams, and approached her at the counter.

"We never finished our conversation at the hospital," he said in a lowered voice. "You were going to tell me something important."

Mom spilled tea onto the countertop.

"Oh, Lord," she said. She snatched a roll of paper towels, ripped one off, and began mopping up the spill. She avoided his gaze.

"Mom?" Gabriel touched her shoulder. "Please. Tell me"

She shook her head, eyes downturned. "Forget I said anything, baby. I never should have brought it up"

"What are you hiding from me? If it's about me, I have a right to know."

"I'm sorry I ever said anything. Let it go, Gabe. Please. It's better that way"

You can't imagine the secrets I've kept hidden from you, most of all.

Gabriel gritted his teeth. Mom put down the paper towels and placed her hand on top of his.

"Please trust me, we should leave this alone," she said. "If you really must know-and, Lord help me, I don't think you should-then it's not my place to tell you"

"Then whose is it?" Gabriel said.

Pops bustled into the kitchen. He carried a large platter heaped with steaming filets. "The steaks are done!"

Mom glanced at his father and then gave Gabriel a look that answered his question.

They took dinner in the sunroom. Fine-mesh screen windows allowed cool air to filter inside, but kept annoying bugs at bay. Even if it began raining and the sky steadily darkened, proof that rain was near-they would stay dry.

Dinner was delicious. They feasted on thick, juicy filet mignons. Baked potatoes. Tossed salad with blue-cheese dressing. Pops promised an equally delicious dessert, too.

As they dined, their conversation was light and sprinkled with humor. Gabriel, like the rest of them, had endured enough hardship in the past couple of weeks to give him a newfound appreciation for the joys of a good meal in the company of loved ones, and he avoided any topics-namely, Isaiah-likely to stir controversy or discomfort.

Nevertheless he was determined to have a private conversation with his father sometime that evening. In spite of Mom's warning that it would be best if he did not uncover the secrets, curiosity percolated in his stomach. What could be so terrible that he was better off not knowing about it? Al though he remained an active participant in the dinner talk, the question echoed in the chambers of his mind.

Pops served dessert: New York-style cheesecake with fresh strawberry topping. It was superb.

"Wow, Pops," Gabriel said. "You really put your foot in this. I'm amazed."

"I have to confess that I didn't make the cheesecake" Pops grinned sheepishly. "I picked it up from the Cheesecake Factory."

"And I was about to give you another compliment, too," Nicole said and laughed.

"For real," Dana said. "I was about to ask you to cater the food at our wedding."

Mention of Dana and Gabriel's upcoming October wedding sparked a new line of conversation among the women. They began talking about flower arrangements, bridal dresses, food, invitations ...

Quickly losing interest, Gabriel found himself looking out the window at the backyard. A drizzle had begun to fall, droplets rippling across the swimming pool. The strengthening wind ruffled the trees and shrubbery. Distantly, thunder grumbled.

Gabriel noticed that his father had bowed out of the conversation, too. Pops sipped coffee and, with dull interest, watched the women chattering.

Gabriel caught his father's eye. "You up for a game of pool, Pops? They'll be talking about wedding stuff for a while."

"Let's go," Pops said, rising from his chair.

Mom glanced knowingly at Gabriel as he and his father left the table. She knew him well.

He had to get to the bottom of this.

Chapter 5 1

n ops and Gabriel went downstairs to the recreation room l ' on the terrace level. The rec room had stack-stone walling, a fireplace, and a professional-quality rosewood billiards table. Floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors dominated one side of the room, providing a view of the flagstone patio and swimming pool.

The rain had begun to fall in sheets; the pool now appeared to be boiling like a cauldron.

"My game is rusty," Pops said. He took a cue from the rack on the wall. "It's been a couple of months since I've played."

"Already making excuses, are we?" Gabriel said. He began placing the balls inside the wooden triangle on the woolen table surface.

"But I'm sure I can still kick your butt," Pops said, ever the competitor. Pops hated to lose, a trait Gabriel had acquired from him. When Gabriel had been a teenager living at home, they'd used to shoot pool into the wee hours of the morning, neither of them wanting to accept defeat, calling it quits only when exhaustion forced them to a draw.

"Rack 'em up, kid," Pops said. "You break first"

Gabriel lifted the rack. Then he sharpened the tip of his favorite cue, aimed at the white cue ball, and pumped a smooth stroke, scattering the balls across the table with a satisfying clatter.

"Seven in the left corner pocket," Gabriel said. He shotand missed.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who's rusty," Pops said. He bent forward, surveying an angle for a possible shot.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Gabriel said.

"Yeah?" Pops studied the balls.

Gabriel checked the staircase, confirming that no one was nearby. "About a week ago, Mom said something about a secret she's kept hidden from me. Something really important. But she wouldn't tell me what it was-she said it wasn't her place to say. She hinted that I should ask you"

Pops's lips were drawn in a firm line. He rose out of his crouch, clutching the cue stick as though it were a weapon.

"Your mother said that, did she?" he said. "Did she tell you you're better off not knowing?"

"She did. But I want to know."

"You don't need to know."

Gabriel laid the cue across the table. "Pops, I'm a grown man. Whatever it is, I can handle it. And if it's about me, I have a right to know."

"Shit, I thought you wanted to play pool," Pops said. He tried to rack the cue stick, ended up dropping it on the floor. Cursing, he kicked it away and snatched his handkerchief out of his pocket. He mopped his face.

"What it is?" Gabriel asked softly but firmly. "I need to know."

"Wasn't finding out about Isaiah bad enough?" Pops said. He balled the handkerchief in his fist. "Goddamn it, why the hell did Marge bring this up?"

"She wants me to know the truth"

"She should've talked to me about this first" Muttering, Pops leaned against the edge of the billiards table. He closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose, a gesture Gabriel had picked up from him.

Quietly, Gabriel waited. On the other side of the room, rain beat against the windows, streamed down the doors. Lightning ripped across the angry purple-black sky, followed soon after by a burst of thunder.

"Okay," Pops said. "Can you run upstairs and get us a couple beers? I'm going to need another one for this and so will you"

"I'll be right back," Gabriel said.

Theo watched his son ascend the stairs. He sighed.

The truth could set you free. It also could give you a migraine.

His son wanted to know the truth. But once Theo told him, he was going to wish he hadn't asked.

Theo wanted to strangle Marge for bringing up this mess in the first place. They'd had an agreement: this was one secret they would never, ever divulge to anyone. She had broken her promise.

In spite of his anger toward his wife, Theo had to admit that he-and he alone-ultimately bore responsibility for the situation. Gabriel would realize that and blame him. The thought of his son hating him forever, so soon after they had mended fences, intensified Theo's headache.

He heard a footstep behind him. He looked over his shoulder.

It was Isaiah.

Fear clenched Theo's heart like an iron fist.

"Happy Father's Day," Isaiah said.

He swung a dark object at Theo's head.

Chapter 5 2

C abriel walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. Anxiety quivered through his knees. He was so worried about what Pops was going to tell him that it was difficult to maintain his balance.

Maybe it's not as bad as I think it'll be. What could be worse than learning I have a crazy half brother? Is Pops gonna tell me I have a psycho half sister, too?

Possibilities circled through his mind, and they only made him more anxious, more eager to get this over with.

As he passed through the hallway, he saw that the women had moved out of the sunroom and into the grand salon. They were still talking about the wedding, of course. Gabriel looked away, fearing that they would try to snare him in the conversation. This was one time when he truly could not be bothered.

He walked into the kitchen. He reached for the refrigerator handle.

Before he could touch it, the door opened.

Tingles cascaded over his hands.

The last time he'd exercised his telekinesis, he'd been at the hospital, fighting on the stairwell with Isaiah. He'd been unable to access the talent since, and, after numerous attempts, had given up, deciding that for some mysterious reason the gift had gone into remission, like a side effect of some weird medical condition.

Now it was back.

But why?

"You forgot about our father-son fishing trip, didn't you?" Isaiah whispered into his father's ear. But Pops was unconscious, his lips lolling open, saliva gathering in the corner of his mouth. "Well, I didn't forget"

Slinging his father's arm across his shoulder, Isaiah dragged him toward the French doors that faced the patio and quietly opened them. Cold rain spattered his face. He draped a jacket over his father's head to keep him dry and asleep.

After the shit went down at the hospital, the Reids, naturally, had changed the house locks as a security measure. But they'd neglected to replace the lock on the terrace doors. That was the downside of living in such a big-ass crib; it was impossible to remember everything.

Isaiah had suspected that they would have a family gathering on Father's Day. He'd hidden in the basement for hours, biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

He didn't want a confrontation with Gabriel or anyone else in the family. This time it was solely between him and his father.

"I promised Mama that no matter what, I was going to get you," Isaiah said. He pulled his father outside and toward the far side of the rambling yard, staying close to the exterior walls to avoid being seen by someone inside. Rain slanted in his eyes, forcing him to squint, but he was thankful for the downpour and the premature darkness the thunderstorm brought. It would provide cover.

"But before we get to that, we're going fishing, Pops. You never did take me fishing, but you took Gabriel all the time. We're going on a fishing trip of our own, just you and me ""

The wrought-iron gate on the east side of the property was locked from the inside. He hit the lever to open it, forced the gate open wide with his shoulder, and lugged his slack-jawed father across the damp grass toward the white Ford Econoline cargo van he'd parked against the curb at the edge of the cul-de-sac, out of a direct view of the estate windows.

He'd stolen the van late last night out of some poor sucker's driveway. ROBERT'S HEATING & AIR-CONDITIONING was painted in red across the side and rear doors. An unsuspecting neighbor would assume that he was a technician visiting the community to make a service call.

He slid open the side panel door and hauled his father inside.

Gabriel stood in the middle of the kitchen, his palms crackling with psychic energy.

Why had his telekinesis suddenly returned?

Dana entered the kitchen carrying an empty glass. She picked up a pitcher of sweet tea but put it down when she noticed the look on his face. "Something wrong, baby?"

"The power's back" Gabriel flexed his hands.

A mirror, he thought. Look in a mirror.

As Dana watched him, curious, he rushed into the hallway. A large mirror hung on the wall in the foyer.

Heart drumming, he moved in front of the glass.

He saw Isaiah.

Isaiah was pulling his father inside a van. Fishing poles and tackle boxes covered the floor behind him.

"Oh, shit," Gabriel said.

"What is it?" Dana said. "What's wrong?"

Gabriel scrambled to the basement door. He pounded down the stairs, leaping over the last five steps and landing on the hardwood floor with a bone-knocking thud, he barely felt in his rising panic. From a distance, Dana followed.

"Pops!" he shouted, running into the rec room. "Pops!"

The patio doors were open. They swung in the rain.

His father was gone.