Whoever had tried to kill Avery would try again. That much he knew. He would spend the rest of his life protecting her. That much he more than knew.
“You’re so restless,” Avery said after he’d checked the windows for the third time.
“It’s been a wild twenty-four hours,” he said. “Even crazier forty-eight.”
“For me, it’s been a year of torture.” She touched his forearm. “I’m so wound up I can’t believe I was paralyzed last night. It’s like every nerve in my body is making up for being numb. I even passed on the cappuccino, and I’m still wired.”
“I feel the same way,” Jason admitted, although the electricity arcing through his body had nothing to do with caffeine and everything to do with Avery—and the damn fact he’d fallen utterly and helplessly and irrevocably in love with her.
“The same way as me? Tortured?”
“Wound up, but in a good way.” He rubbed the hand she had on him. “Frustrated, of course, that we haven’t a clue on the killer.”
“I’m sorry to say, but I think it’s Trent. You never really know a person behind the mask. He always seemed so upbeat and friendly—maybe overly so. But I got the feeling he was always watching. I had no idea he was friends with Saul and at the same time, Blade knew him well enough to ask him to back him up.”
“They met at dance class. That’s what Trent told me when I questioned him. I was surprised, too. We specifically removed him and Tatiana from the lineup because they had been at the show last year.”
“Tatiana is another problem. Did you catch up with her?”
“Nope.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. “I get what you were doing at the show. You were making things unpredictable for the killer. Moving the location, and then confiscating the sharp objects. Did you have anything to do with the fireworks being replaced by a laser show?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, I can claim credit for that too, although Alida made it happen. The manager at The Edge is a big fan of Matt Swanson.”
“You trusted Alida?”
He nodded, thinking back. “Yes, because she was the intended victim of the pranks. She also has no motive to screw up her clients, and she fired Ivanna’s sister when it looked like Ivanna was leading a model rebellion at her agency. Plus, Matt’s campaign is top of her list, even more than whatever loyalties she might have for the congressmen.”
“Congressmen?” Avery’s hackles seemed to rise. “Which ones?”
“She works with bundlers who handle fundraisers. Larry’s one of them, and so is Richie. I don’t think she works directly with the congressmen, and she’s willing to work both sides, your dad as well as Overton and any others who require introductions.”
Avery’s eyes widened, and a shudder traveled through her body, shaking her like a leaf. “Both sides.”
Jason wondered. “Although, I heard Ivanna’s sister worked event planning for Overton. Now she’s gone overseas.”
“I just can’t wrap my head around Ivanna and Saul wanting to do me in. It’s like suspecting Mrs. Bonet.”
Jason wasn’t going to mention that thought had crossed his mind. Had Saul or Ivanna taken a quill out of Mrs. Bonet’s purse? Could they have worked together to get rid of Avery, who Mrs. Bonet blamed for Brando’s death?
Although that wouldn’t explain Brando’s killing or the deaths of the male models. Maybe Finn was right, the killings weren’t connected and he was the only person who saw a conspiracy.
“Don’t tell me you suspect Joan?” Avery’s voice cut his mental fog.
“Huh? Oh, I was thinking,” Jason recovered. “If all of the killings are not connected, then we have to deal only with what’s in front of us—the poisoned quill, which means you are the target. Who’s threatened by you?”
“Other than you?” She flashed him a playful smirk that fell flat. “Okay, not funny.”
“Don’t forget. I was there at the professor’s penthouse. He directly threatened you with exposure, and he’s blackmailing you.”
“What are you thinking? That it has to do with me?”
“Keeping secrets, Avery. As long as you keep the secret, you’re safe.”
“I never told a soul,” she insisted.
He had to be careful before asking the next question. It could shatter Avery and put her back to the night Brando died.
He tugged her into his arms and moved her to the bedroom. “You should be sitting or lying down for this.”
“Wow, you sure change up on a dime.” Her tone was partially flirty, but mostly awkward.
“Not going to try anything, but I have to ask you a tough question.” He gently pulled her down onto the mattress and rolled next to her, holding her in a spooning position.
“I’m scared now.” Her body was stiff, and he wrapped his leg over hers, tucking her back securely against his chest.
“Nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe with me, and so is your secret.” He felt her swallow, and he caressed her to calm her like he would a skittish horse. “You told Brando, didn’t you?”
She froze, tense and still, not taking a breath. He waited. He could hold his breath longer than her.
He felt her nod before she exhaled. “Yes.”
“Who was he?”
“Do you think he knew that I told?” Her voice was tiny, barely there.
What could he say? That she was responsible for Brando’s death? That if she hadn’t told him, he’d be alive?
“It doesn’t matter what he knew, only what he believes.”
“You mean, he believed I told?”
Jason kissed the top of her head and nodded. “He probably believes you’d tell me, so it won’t help you not to tell.”
A sob choked from her, and she gripped Jason’s hands tight. “I want him destroyed. He killed my Brando. He killed what was good and true in my life. He blotted it out because he could never have what I gave to Brando.”
Jason held back from asking who. Instead, he asked, “How old were you when this happened?”
“Fourteen.”
“Did Leach take pictures? Videos?”
“Of course, he did. That’s what he’s using against me.”
“You did nothing wrong,” he whispered.
She didn’t reply.
He held her tight while she breathed hard and furious. After a minute, maybe more, she swiped at her eyes and said, “Enough with the loser tears. Let’s go get this fucker. I’m going to file a rape charge. There’s no statute of limitations in New York.”
“No, there’s not,” he said firmly. “Tell me. Who was it?”
He braced himself, hoping it wasn’t her daddy. That he wasn’t about to ruin what was left of her life.
She struggled from his arms and turned to face him. Rage twisted her lips, baring her teeth and creasing her brows. “It’s Congressman Fucking Overton.”
He wasn’t shocked. Not after his visit to Overton’s Southampton beach party. But it still killed him that Avery had been victimized at such a young, tender age.
“Let’s nail this asshole,” Jason said. “I’ll help you file the charges, but you have to be prepared. Everyone in your family will be affected. You will be torn down by the media. They will lie about you and smear you. You will find out who your real friends are. You will forever be searchable on the internet for this, and your grandchildren will discover this about you.”
“I know. It’s the reason I swore not to tell. I wanted to be successful. I traded my soul for being a star.” She bit into her knuckles. “I let them kill my lover because he chose to stand up for me. I believe he told his buddies or asked for advice. And if one of his buddies was crooked and worked for the police chief, he could have alerted the congressman. I suspect the buddy was Trent. Trent who seemed to be everywhere—with the Brooklyn Babes, with the FDNY, with Blade and Harvey at the dance class, and with my brothers at Lushpuppies.”
“What’s your take on Tatiana?” Jason
asked since she also was a player on multiple game boards.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. If I’m going forward and accusing Overton, there’s no motive to kill anyone else. I know my parents will be devastated, because the entire Professor Leach thing will come out. My dad will likely lose the election, and I won’t get away scot-free. They’ll call me a whore for doing the private shows. My fashion brand will be dragged through the mud, and from now on, when someone says Avery Cockburn, it’ll always be with a suggestive sneer and a wink-wink-nudge-nudge.”
“Maybe there’s another way,” Jason said. “I can let on that I know and force him to resign.”
“And put a fat target on your back? No way.”
“If you make this public, you’ll be putting many blackmailers out of business.” He figured he should warn her of all the consequences. “If you ask me, I think Tatiana is a blackmailer, and she might sell us the recording for a price.”
“Or she might kill to protect her gravy train.”
“Good point. We have to proceed carefully.”
Avery sighed and put her head back on the pillow. “Suddenly, I’m drained. Now that I know what I have to do. It’s what I dreaded all these years. What I covered up, even to myself. I lied to myself and pretended it didn’t happen. But that damn Orson kept it hanging over my head.”
“Because he’s a pervert,” Jason said. “Maybe there’s a way to nail Overton and keep Leach out of it. After all, he wouldn’t want to go down with the sinking ship, would he?”
“No, but he’d keep me doing the shows.”
“Not if he’s too scared he’d be exposed for child porn. That’s what those videos are,” Jason said. “I believe Tatiana is either blackmailing him or working for Overton to get dirt on Orson to keep him in line. Her recording would nail both of them, but at the same time implicate you. If we can fix it so she stays quiet, Orson goes into hiding …”
“My head hurts.” She shook her head and blinked. “I’m too wired up to sleep. Too fired up to relax. Too—”
“Horny to read a book,” he finished for her and gathered her in his arms. “Let’s make love.”
“Yes, love.” She mated her lips to his and set a pace that promised passion all night long.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Avery had to tell her family before they heard from anyone else. This would be hands down the hardest thing she’d ever done. She could picture how disappointed her parents would be and how angry her brothers could get. Chase might even commit acts of violence, but it was something she had to do.
She’d let her father make the final call, whether to make her accusations against Congressman Overton public, since his campaign would be derailed into a media circus.
The very next morning, Avery called her parents and told them she’d checked out of the hospital and would be on her way home.
“I won’t need a ride,” she said. “Jason is with me, and there’s something very important I have to tell you. If Chase, Alex, and Damon are around, I’d like to have them present.”
“What is it? Are you in some kind of trouble?” her mother asked. “Dan, come here. Avery is released from the hospital.”
They were on speakerphone so she heard her father approach. “Princess, are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fully better,” Avery said. “But Jason and I will be arriving at The Manor in an hour. I’d like to meet everyone in the stables—for privacy.”
“What in tarnation is going on?” Dad asked with an irritated tone. “If there’s a problem, I can take care of it. Is it the hospital? Are they upset because I pulled strings to get you that antidote?”
“Nothing about the hospital,” Avery said. “I don’t think we should say anything more on the phone.”
As Jason had warned her, the Overtons and Leaches have had free run of The Manor. They could have installed electronic monitoring devices and wiretapped the phones.
It pained her that her parents would discover how sleazy their friends were, and how people they’d trusted were phony and evil. But she didn’t take this decision lightly.
It had been gnawing at her since the day Brando died.
“You can’t blame yourself for what evil people did,” Jason said again, reminding her to stop the self-incrimination.
All through the night, they’d alternated between the sweetest and most passionate lovemaking and discussion of her inner thoughts—how guilty she felt, how much regret she had.
Jason had matched her, guilt to guilt, regret to regret, and every time she batted his down, she realized that she, too, had to move on. Guilt and regret would never undo what was done.
“I’m doing this on behalf of Brando,” she said, looking in the mirror and at Jason who was standing behind her. “And for myself. For you.”
“Me?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I’m proud of you. That’s for sure. But why me?”
“You won’t stop until you catch the killer,” she explained.
“How can we prove Overton’s the killer? All we’ve established is motive.”
“Motive buys the means and creates the opportunity,” she said resolutely. “I’m sure once the pieces click together, people will come out of the woodwork, and evidence that we hadn’t seen before will come to light.”
“You’re so very brave.” He tipped her face up and kissed her. “Let’s roll.”
Avery and Jason met her father, mother, Damon, and Chase in the stables among their horses. Alex had already left, and of course, the other two weren’t on speaking terms with the family.
Jason held a video camera and had been cleared by Avery to do the recording. Her family didn’t object, because they didn’t know what would come out.
She laid out her story in an unemotional tone, but as soon as the gist of it was out, her mother became hysterical. Guilt streaked through her full force at unknowingly having brought predators into the household.
“I want you to withdraw from the race right now,” she screamed at her father.
“But that’s exactly what they would want,” Chase said. “This is our opportunity to deliver the kill shot. Let me have at them. I’ll get all of them. Leaches and Overtons. They’re dead.”
“No, Chase, you can’t go vigilante,” Avery shouted. “We have to be smarter about this. Bring him down legally.”
“Can you imagine the media circus?” Damon encircled Avery into his arms. “I think we all should lay low.”
“There’s no laying low,” Avery said. “It’s going to be rougher than anything we’ve ever seen, but I have to do it. Overton’s gotten away with it for years. He has presidential ambitions. I can’t let it wait until he’s the nominee.”
“They’d rather squash you and claim you’re lying than give up their homeboy,” Damon said. “The establishment media’s in Overton’s pocket. You’ve got to think this through.”
“I already have.” Avery jerked away from her twin and glared at him. “How could you, of everyone, want me to back off? We’re twins, Damon. How was it you never knew?”
Her accusations, the ones that ran in the back of her mind, stunned her brothers. It was true. While hiding inside the tunnels behind the bookcases, she’d often fantasized one of her hero brothers would play tricks and drive her abusers from the house.
Instead, they went off to play sports with the sons of her abusers, leaving her to fend for herself.
“I thought you stayed in your room doing girlie stuff,” Damon retorted. “You never wanted to play sports or watch the game.”
“I hid from them.” Anger riled her up, and she faced her parents. “Did you two have any idea how much I hated your parties? How I hated dressing up as your pretty princess and being paraded in front of the guests?”
“I thought you loved clothes and fashion,” her mother protested and collapsed onto a hay bale. “I’m so sorry. So sorry I was blind. You’re so beautiful that all I did was take compliments from all the wives and glory in how well you looked in t
he pretty clothes.”
Her father had a blank, stricken look. He loosened the tie he wore, even inside his own house, and slumped onto a rickety rocking chair used when waiting for a foal to be birthed. Even the nickering of the horses nearby couldn’t stem the bleeding in her heart at seeing her father so defeated.
She felt for him. Knew that as a man, he’d been rendered a complete failure. He hadn’t defended or protected his beloved daughter.
She went to him and sat in his lap, wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face on his shoulder. “Daddy, I’m sorry I disappointed you. I should have told you, but I was afraid you’d kill them all.”
“I’m going to hunt every one of them down and kill them,” Chase said in a tone so savage it stopped her heart.
He was an ex-Marine and a big game hunter. She could picture him plastered with greasepaint and mud, lurking in a jungle as he picked off first Overton, and then every last one of the perverts who pinched, groped, and plastered her with unwanted kisses.
“There will be no killing,” Dad finally spoke. “We will work with the authorities and destroy every last one of them.”
“The list is long,” Avery warned. “Business leaders, politicians, country club members, even priests and holy men, gurus, shamans, artists, journalists, and college presidents.”
“They all raped you?” Mother clutched her throat and gagged, retching onto the straw-littered ground.
Damon held on to Mom’s shoulders while Chase paced the stable like a caged lion.
“They were too smart to leave DNA or risk pregnancy,” Avery said. “But yes, fingers, objects, gloved hand jobs. They started by giving me candy, then went on to other goodies. Gift cards, clothes, electronics, and then modeling jobs. You guys always thought I lived a charmed life. Got everything I wanted. Fashion institute, top young designer, awards, honors, and even admission to Harvard, which I didn’t take.”
“You were talented and smart,” Damon retorted. “Don’t take all that away.”
“I’m not, but these guys need to be stopped. I was only fourteen, and Professor Leach knew all along. He not only watched, he videoed. He has the recordings which he enjoys. He never touched me. He’s a germaphobe, and he wasn’t into sharing germs. But he loved watching.”
Triggered by Love Page 39
