by J. Kenner
“That’s why we’re looking into him,” Devlin says from behind us, making us both jump. “Because it’s possible, and we want to be smart. But Ellie is right—it’s not your fault.”
She nods, but doesn’t look any more convinced than she did when I told her the same thing.
“It would help if we knew where he was. Did he ever say anything that might give you a clue?”
She shakes her head. “But he left that note for me, so we know he caused the leak. But this is so much more serious. Why would he have put a spotlight on himself like that? It doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Devlin agrees. “But like you said, he has the knowledge, probably even more than we know because of his connection to Joseph. It’s possible that when he essentially confessed to being behind the leak, he didn’t expect to be put in this position.”
It takes me a moment to figure out what he means. “You’re saying someone ordered him.”
Devlin nods. “Or his relationship with Joseph was on better terms than we believed. Grief and anger can drive a man to do foolish things.”
“Like blow up the house of the man who killed your brother,” Brandy says. “Even if you know you’ll be at the top of the suspect list.”
“I’m sorry,” Devlin says. “But yes.”
Her throat moves as she swallows. “I wish I could, but I can’t think of any place he might be.”
“Don’t worry about it. We have resources, and it might not be him.” He presses a hand to Brandy’s shoulder, then offers to bring her a cup of cocoa.
“I’m fine,” she says.
“Well, I’m getting one, so let me know if you change your mind.”
She nods, and he heads toward the kitchen. I get up and follow him, not ready to be done with this conversation. “Surely it’s not Walt,” I say, cornering him at the pantry. “So if it turns out Christopher’s text was telling the truth, then what does that mean? Somebody new on the radar?”
Devlin sighs, looking completely exhausted. “At this point, I’m not taking anything on faith. But, you’re right. I don’t think it’s Walt. His claim sounds like opportunism to force me to settle in light of the bad press surrounding the revelation about my father. What happened to my house, on the other hand, is payback.”
“Agree,” I say as I loop my arms around him. “But by who? Tied to Blackstone, most likely, but he’s dead. So what are you going to do?”
“Do you really want to know the answer to that question?”
I frown. What I know is that he’s going to go back upstairs and get on the phone with Ronan and Reggie and Penn and Claire and Charlie and Grace and all of the other Saint’s Angels that I haven’t yet met. They’re going to make a plan for finding out everything they can, using whatever methods they can, including the kind of methods that law enforcement doesn’t have access to. Not legally anyway.
As for Walt, though he’s not saying so, I’m certain the team will be poking around there, too. Devlin may believe Walt had nothing to do with this, but he won’t completely write it off until he’s sure. He’ll poke around in that cretin’s life again, utilizing the kind of tools that constitutes cutting corners in the world of police procedure and judicial conduct.
I want to say that I disapprove. That he can’t do that. That he needs to let the process be the process, and trust that the authorities will find the answers. I want to say it, but I can’t, because I’m not sure I believe that anymore. So instead I just hold him close. “I’m going to stay with Brandy down here. You do what you have to do, okay?”
His brows rise just slightly, and I’m certain he understands everything that I’ve left unsaid. Then he nods, kisses my forehead, and turns and goes toward my room.
“Devlin,” I call, fighting the urge to join him, to listen in on his meetings and think about whatever information they’ve come across, to see if I find something in the bits of gossip and information and evidence that perhaps they don’t see. But when he stops turns and looks back at me, all I can think to say is, “Let me know if you find anything.”
A hint of a smile touches his lips, and I know he understands. “Of course I will,” he says. And then he’s gone.
Chapter Thirty-One
I wake on the couch in the morning with a blanket over me feeling groggy and disoriented. I push myself up, my head pounding. I stumble into the kitchen to start coffee, only to find that Brandy is already there, sipping on something cold and green.
“Hey. Is Devlin up?”
“Not sure. He came in last night and covered you up right before I went to bed.”
“He should have woken me up.”
She laughs. “Believe me, he tried. He thought about carrying you to bed, but we decided to just leave you.”
“Wow. I remember none of that.”
“You were exhausted. You’d had a hell of a day.”
True enough. I pour myself a cup of coffee and am about to go poke my head in at Devlin, when Brandy blurts out, “How long would it take a statement to go public these days?”
I squint at her, trying to make sense of the words. “What do you mean?”
“Like if I wanted to say something about what Walt is putting Devlin through, how soon could it be printed in an actual publication, so that people see it? I mean, not just on a Twitter feed.”
“Honestly, something like that on your own social media would probably go viral pretty quickly once people notice it. But if you want it to have the cast of legitimacy by being published in some sort of official news media, I’d say it depended on the media. Whether or not they’re the type of place that posts things regularly, or whether they wait until an official publication date.” I study her. “Brandy, what are you thinking?”
“It just pisses me off. All of it, I mean. The house most of all, of course, but there’s nothing I can do about that. But this all started when Devlin’s reputation was attacked in New York, right?”
I nod, trying to follow her train of thought.
“Well, I can’t do anything about that, either. I mean, Devlin’s a great guy, and I know it. But it’s not like I can say that his father isn’t his father.”
“Sweetie, I know you’re upset about everything. But I am not following you here.”
“Don’t you get it? He’s being maligned by Walt.”
“I know. But he’s filed assault charges, and Devlin did assault him. What can we possibly do about it at this point?”
“I’m going public. Just like I said I might do before.”
“Devlin told you not to. That he could take care of himself. And he can. His house getting bombed has nothing to do with you staying silent.”
“I know that. But I need to do something. And Devlin told me not to do it for him. But this isn’t about Devlin. Not really. It’s about me, and what I stand for. I can’t let people think that Devlin is that way, when I know he isn’t. And you know what else? I’m tired of not standing up for myself where men are concerned. I turned a blind eye to whatever or whoever Christopher is —”
“Wait, wait. So now you really think Christopher is involved in all of this?”
“I think he has to be. So what if he sent that stupid text saying he didn’t bomb the house? At the end of the day, me thinks the man doth protest too much, right?”
She takes a sip of her veggie grossness, and continues on. “But the point isn’t even whether he’s innocent or not. The point is that he says so, and I just blithely go along. He’s wrapped up in this somehow, even if he’s the most innocent guy on the planet. And all I’m doing is sitting here being swept along in the tide.”
Her words pour out on top of each other. “And it’s not just Christopher. It’s Walt, too. It’s the fact that I chickened out and never said anything. How many more women has he done that to? And now he’s sitting here accusing Devlin? It’s ridiculous. I have power here. Power that I could use to help Devlin. Power that I could use to help myself. To finally, maybe, grow a little bit of
a backbone.”
She shakes her head, then lifts her hands as if she said too much and doesn’t know where to go next.
“I get it,” I say softly. “I really get it.”
“Will you help me?”
“Yeah. Let me just go run it by—”
“No. This isn’t Devlin’s decision. This is me. I’m doing this for me. This is something I need to do. Devlin’s already told me that he has no problem with me saying whatever I need to say. And I need to say this. Please, just help me get it out there. He’s got enough on his mind without worrying about whether or not I’m making the right decision.”
I think about that, and she’s right. This is Brandy’s decision, and Devlin will worry. He’ll be afraid about how being in the spotlight will affect her, too, but she’s been living in silence for a long time, and I can tell that it’s eating away at her.
“All right. I’ll help you get the word out. Unfortunately, I can’t just publish the column for you, since I’m now unemployed. But we’ll see if we can find another magazine that can get it online pretty quickly.”
“It would be nice if it had the circulation of The Spall,” she says.
“Yeah. I’m thinking. I’ve got to know somebody. One of my colleagues who’d be willing to do this for me at their magazine as a favor. Someone who —”
I cut myself off, realizing I have the perfect person in my back pocket.
Ten minutes later, Brandy’s sitting at the kitchen island in front of her laptop on a recorded video call with Corbin. He’s asked her if he can use snippets from the video as part of the article. “That will make it go more viral,” he says.
I frown, because she looks more than a little nervous.
“Don’t do it if you’re not comfortable,” I say. Because it’s a video call, I know he can hear me, even if I’m just outside of the screen.
“But it should be your own decision,” Corbin adds. “Not that I don’t appreciate Ellie’s input,” he adds, and I can hear a little bit of a smirk in his voice.
I roll my eyes, but of course he can’t see me.
Brandy laughs. I’ve told her about the detente between Corbin and me, and I think she’s amused to see us together.
“So you just want me to talk and tell my story and you’ll pick out the good parts to put out there on Twitter or wherever?”
“Yes. If you’d like to approve them first, you can.”
“No. I don’t want to see myself on video. I wouldn’t want you to post anything if I did.” She shoots a quick glance at me before saying, “I trust you.”
Corbin laughs. “Considering Ellie’s sitting in the room next to you, that means a lot. From both of you.”
“Okay,” Brandy says. “Should I just start talking?”
“Go for it.” Corbin says.
Brandy shoots me a look that is a cross between terror and excitement. I nod in encouragement and make a go-ahead motion with my hand. She bites her lower lip, takes a deep breath, looks at the camera on her phone, then bursts into giggles. “Sorry. Sorry. This is all very weird.”
“Take your time,” Corbin says, more gently than I thought he was capable of. “I can edit this. And I promise I won’t make you look stupid.”
“You better not,” I put in. “I know where you live now.”
He chuckles, but our banter seems to have loosened Brandy up, and she takes a deep breath before beginning.
“I’ve been quiet for years now,” she says “But I know Devlin Saint personally, and in light of the allegations that William Tarkington has made against him, I can’t stay quiet any longer. The bottom line is that Devlin is an amazing man. But William—or Walt, as he goes by—isn’t.”
She takes a deep breath, her eyes catching mine. I mouth that she’s doing great, and she continues.
“Walt is the reason I’m speaking out,” she says. “His actions have pushed me. Angered me. I listened to the allegations that he’s made against Devlin Saint, and fury cut through me. Because I know both these men. More than that, I know why this alleged assault took place. Devlin was standing up for me. He was standing up for me because I hadn’t stood up for myself, even though I should have.”
She silently holds her hand out below camera view, and I take it, offering my strength. “I should have stood up. Fought back,” she continues. “All those years ago when I was young, and more recently when I saw Walt again. When I was in high school, Walt was in college. We met at a party. He drugged me, and he raped me. He got me pregnant, and somewhere out there is a little girl who’s in a good and loving home because I gave her up for adoption.”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and I can’t help but think it’s the perfect video shot.
“But I did one smart thing. I asked the adoptive parents if I could keep a sample of her DNA. They knew how I become pregnant in the first place, and they were kind enough to agree. It’s been kept all these years at a facility my doctor recommended. I know that when that DNA is analyzed, it will prove what I am saying. That William Tarkington is a dangerous man. He’s a man who thinks he can take whatever he wants, and if the world isn’t giving him what he wants, he will bend the facts around to make them fit in his favor. That’s what he did to me. That’s what he’s doing to Devlin.”
She smirks. “Devlin Saint hurt him? Poor baby.”
She leans forward, and I think she’s really getting into a groove now.
“Devlin Saint hurt him in that alley because Devlin was vindicating me. Because Devlin is a good man who knows the story that I’ve just told you, a story that I’ve kept hidden away all these years. A story I should have come out with a long time ago, because I believe in my heart that Walt did not do this only to me. If I’d had the courage to say something earlier, maybe he would’ve been caught. Maybe he would be in jail. Maybe he would never have been in that bar in the first place and Devlin would not have had to stand up and protect me.”
She leans back, and Corbin signals for her to keep going as I mouth that she’s doing great. She takes a deep breath, bites her lip, then continues.
“I don’t know the ramifications of what I’m saying from a legal perspective. I don’t know if it makes Devlin innocent of the charge of assault. I’m not a lawyer. I don’t know. And while I don’t want Devlin to be in trouble with the law, that’s not why I’m saying this. I’m saying this because I have to. Because Devlin Saint is a good man, who’s had a lot of crap thrown at him recently that he doesn’t deserve. And because Walt is a bad man, and he deserves whatever dark looks people give him after they hear what I’ve just said. I hope it changes everything for him. I hope he finally realizes that he can’t get away with things by trying to shift reality whether through lies or through drugs. That’s all. Thank you.”
She waits a beat, then shrugs, the confidence she seemed to project while recording the video fading away as she looks at me with the same expression she had when we were a little girls in elementary school.
I move over and pull her into a hug. “You did amazing,” I say, and Corbin seconds the statement.
“That was really great, Brandy,” he says. “Seriously, it was terrific. And if you wanted it to go viral, I think you did the right thing. I think this will definitely do that for you. And if anybody still looks at Devlin like he’s an asshole or at Walt like he’s a hero for calling out Saint, then they’re idiots.”
Brandy sniffles and wipes the back of her hand under her nose. “Thank you.”
“I have to say one more thing, though, before I write up this article and post this video.”
Brandy’s brow furrows, and I’m curious as well. “What?”
“Are you sure?”
“Why are you asking me that now?”
“Because what you said was really good. Not only did you say it well and heartfelt and reference actual evidence that you have, which will get everybody interested, but it also involves Devlin Saint. We all know it’s going to go viral. A few days ago I wouldn’t ha
ve said this to you. You’d given me permission, and I would have just posted it. But my perspective has changed a little recently. I saw my colleagues shouting out questions to Devlin about who his father is. And I probably would have too. It was news, right?”
Brandy and I lock eyes and we both nod.
“Yeah, well here’s the thing. I’ve met him. And I listened to his speech the other night. And that revelation kind of fucked him over. It was news, and they had every right to ask him in public. But I just wonder if maybe they shouldn’t have. So I’m trying to think a little bit more before I publish. Is this what you really want?”
I’m in complete shock. I’d shifted my perspective on Corbin, true, but I never expected this. There are actual tears in my eyes as I think about what he’s willing to give up. One hell of an article and the spotlight that goes with it. And he’s doing it because of friendship and respect. Who would have thought?
Brandy’s mind has not wandered the way mine has. And she doesn’t seem sentimental at all. Instead, she nods fiercely as she looks directly at the camera. “Thank you for asking. But yes. I want you to publish.”
Corbin’s expression changes into one of absolute glee. “Well, all right. That’s all I wanted to know. Brandy, honey, you may have just made my career. Thank you.”
I laugh. It’s good to see a hint of the old Corbin. I feel like the Earth is moving on its axis again.
“So are we done?” I ask.
He nods. “I’ll send you a text before it goes live so you’re prepared. I can write this fast and get it up in a couple of hours. That’s cool, right? You want it as soon as possible.”
“Absolutely,” Brandy says. “Walt’s apparently pursuing this thing hard. I keep seeing that his name is trending on all sorts of social media.”
“Got it. I’ll write it up, put the graphics together, and we’ll run with it. I’ll keep you posted. And thanks again for this exclusive. Hey, Ellie, where are you?”
I lean over again so that he can see my face.
