The Blackwood Files - File One: Family Secrets

by Terri Reid

  She stopped in her tracks and turned to him. “You’re right,” she said. “But I still don’t know what the truth is. And my mom’s advice was to leave the past in the past.”

  “Well, you know, that’s one option,” he said. “You’ve lived your whole life without knowing and his murder was twenty-five years ago.”

  She took a deep breath and shook her head. “I already promised him,” she said. “I’m going to find his murderer.”

  “Just the guy who pulled the trigger, or the guys who pulled the strings?” Art asked.

  “Oh, I want them all,” she said, determination shining in her eyes. “I want them all.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Art slowly climbed the interior stairs of the brownstone he lived in, making his way towards his apartment. He was totally exhausted, and all he wanted to do was get some sleep. After calling Jake to turn the cameras back on and pick up the cart, he’d driven Brooke over to Niki’s apartment, made sure everything was secure, and headed home. “Please. All I need is some sleep,” he growled to himself.

  Walking up the long hallway, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his keys, separating the house key from the rest. He placed his hand on the doorknob and snapped out of his exhaustion immediately when the door opened without being unlocked. Pulling his gun from his waistband, he slid up against the wall next to the door and then gave the door a slight push, letting it swing open.

  “You don’t have to play Charlie’s Angels,” came a familiar voice from inside the apartment. “It’s just me.”

  Releasing his tension with a long sigh, Art stuffed his gun back in his waistband and entered his apartment to greet his twin brother, Tom. “You could have gotten shot,” he said, with a disgusted shake of his head.

  Tom snorted. “Yeah, not likely,” he replied from his lateral position on the couch.

  Art closed the door behind him and walked to the kitchenette to pour himself a glass of water. “So, what’s up?” Art asked.

  “That’s what I wanted to ask you,” Tom said, using the remote to click off the television. “My twin-dar kept me tossing and turning all night.”

  Art smiled at the reference to the special connection they’d had all their lives. Their mother had once referred to it as twin radar, and they’d shortened it for their own use.

  “Well, at least you had the option of tossing and turning,” Art replied. “I think I’ve had three hours of sleep in two days.”

  “Oh, poor baby,” Tom mocked. “Do we need a nap and a blankie?”

  Art grinned. “Why yes. Yes we do.”

  Tom snorted and swung around on the couch, sitting up. “Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said and then added earnestly. “Are you okay? Is something going on?”

  Sighing, Art leaned against the counter and took a sip of water. Then he shook his head. “Actually I’m good, considering how crazy these last twenty-four hours have been,” he replied, and then he smiled. “I just realized I haven’t thought about Marilyn once during all this craziness.”

  Tom stood, walked over and helped himself to his brother’s water. “Good,” he said. “She was a bitch, and she wasn’t worthy of you.”

  “No, Tom, really,” Art said with a smile. “Don’t hold back. Tell me what you really think.”

  Chuckling, Tom lightly punched his brother in the arm. “Go get some sleep,” he insisted. “Do you want me to hang here for a while?”

  “Are you going to be my bodyguard?” Art teased. Then he shook his head. “No, but thanks. It’s crazy, but at this point, I’m safe.”

  “At this point?” Tom asked, his eyebrows raising.

  Art nodded. “Yeah, and I’ll call you for backup when that changes.”

  “You better,” Tom said, taking one last gulp of water.

  “Or you’ll do what?” Art asked, smiling as he fell into their familiar banter.

  “I’ll tell Mom,” Tom replied with a smile. He walked to the door and opened it. “Love you, man.”

  “Yeah, love you, too,” Art replied, watching his brother close the door behind him.

  With a grunt, he pushed himself away from the counter and walked over to the door, slipping the deadbolt in place. “Now I can finally get some sleep.”

  Ten minutes later, as Art was laying on his back in his bed snoring loudly, a shimmer of light entered his room and hovered near the end of the bed.

  O’Reilly. A soft whisper echoed throughout the room.

  Art grunted but remained asleep.

  O’Reilly. The voice was a little louder.

  The snoring increased.

  ARTHUR O’REILLY! The words bounced off the walls, and Art sat straight up in his bed.

  “What the hell?” he yelled.

  Bruce Blackwood appeared at the end of the bed. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Yeah, well I need sleep,” Art growled, grabbing his pillow, punching it and laying back down on his bed. “So, I guess we all have needs.”

  “I need to talk to you now,” Bruce insisted.

  Art rolled over and looked at the ghost. “Are you some kind of demon that’s punishing me for something I did as a kid?” he shouted.

  Bruce looked confused. “No,” he replied.

  “Then why the hell won’t you let me get some sleep?” he asked.

  “You need to move Brooke,” Bruce said.

  “Now?” Art growled at the ghost. “Right now? At this minute?”

  “No,” Bruce said.

  “Okay then,” Art said, his voice tight. “You get the hell out of my room and let me sleep for two hours straight, and then you can talk to me. Got it?”

  Bruce’s image waivered in and out for a moment. “I suppose,” he replied sheepishly.

  Art angrily rolled back over and pulled the blankets over his head. “Good,” he roared. “Now get out and leave me alone.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Brooke sat across from Niki in her kitchen, sipping on a large mug of tea and helping herself to a platter of cookies Niki had placed on the table between them. “So, should I be concerned knowing that Reece has been spying on me for years?” Brooke asked after taking a bite of the cookie. “And that they’ve both been lying to me since I was three?”

  “So, she actually told you they brainwashed you to protect you?” Niki asked, sipping on a tall, ice-filled glass of soda. “Do you think they’re worried that now that you know, all those repressed memories are going to come floating back to the top?”

  Brooke sighed. “Yeah, actually, I think they are,” Brooke explained. “They want to get me out of town, like right away. Europe is their idea. Reese wrote a check for $50,000 and my mom gave me access to a trust account she set up for me from my father’s life insurance.”

  “So, how much do you have in your trust fund?” Niki asked.

  Brooke shrugged and reached for her purse hanging from the back of the chair. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Right after Mom left, Jake called and things got crazy. I never opened the envelope.”

  “Well, open it now,” Niki said, leaning forward.

  Brooke pulled out the envelope and shook her head. “I don’t think it’s going to be that much,” she said. “I don’t think a cop’s life insurance policy would make anyone rich.”

  “Stop being a spoilsport and open it,” Niki insisted.

  Sliding open the back of the envelope, Brooke pulled out a statement from a well-known bank. She saw that the she was named as the account holder with her mom as the co-signer. She scanned the page, looked down at the bottom where the balance was printed and gasped. “This can’t be right,” she said.

  Niki pulled the page out of her hand and quickly scanned down. “Brooke, honey, you’re a millionaire,” she said with a grin. “A multi-millionaire.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Brooke shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “A thank you note to your mom would be appropriate,” Niki replied. “Or some flow
ers or a box of chocolates or a Lamborghini.”

  Brooke laughed. “Yeah, because I’d really want her to explain that one to Reece.”

  “Is there any way Reece could be involved?” Niki asked. “I mean, Art hears those cops mention the judge, Reece sends you a check for $50,000 to get you out of town and then you find out they sent you to a shrink to repress your memory.”

  “I really don’t want to believe that he could be part of it,” Brooke said.

  “Yeah, like you don’t want to be creeped out that he was spying on you,” Niki inserted. She paused and turned to Brooke. “You don’t think your mom is in any danger, do you?”

  Taken aback, Brooke didn’t answer. As if on cue, her phone rang and Reece’s number appeared on the screen.

  “Don’t answer it,” Niki cautioned.

  “I have to,” Brooke replied, picking it up. “Hello?”

  “Brooke, it’s your father,” Reece said, his voice sounding cold and business-like. “I understand you finally spoke with your mother.”

  “Yes, Mom showed up at my apartment,” she replied, feigning anger. “So I didn’t really have a choice to speak with her, did I?”

  “No, you didn’t,” he replied. “And she gave you the check I sent?”

  “Yes, she did,” Brooke answered. “And even though I appreciate your generous offer, I’m afraid that my workload is too great, and I won’t be able to take time off of work right now.”

  “Brooke, this wasn’t a request,” Reece said. “Your mother told me about Jacarius Robbins and his attempt to get up to your apartment. You need to make arrangements now and leave immediately.”

  Surprised at his harsh tone, Brooke felt fear twisting in her stomach. But she wasn’t going to let him bully her. “I’m sorry,” she replied evenly. “I won’t be able to do that. I have too many things on my plate right now. You always taught me to be responsible, and I have far too many commitments to just leave.”

  “Commitments can be postponed or passed off to others,” Reece replied, softening his tone to sound like a concerned parent. “Listen, Jacarius is a dangerous man and, besides, you’ve just received some startling news. You need to take some time off and get away to process it all.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Brooke said. “But I can’t go. No matter how much you and Mom plead and threaten, I can’t do it. Sorry, but that’s my final decision.”

  “Okay, Brooke,” Reece said, his voice like flint again. “I just hope you don’t live to regret it.”

  He hung up the phone before she had a chance to reply. She laid her phone down, surprised to see that her hand was shaking.

  “Bad?” Niki asked.

  Brooke took a deep, shuddering breath and then looked up to meet Niki’s eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound like that,” she said. “I actually felt threatened.”

  “He could be just afraid for you,” Niki said. “And, you know, trying to get you to do what he wants, so you’re safe.”

  She took a deep breath. “Well, I can’t really think about what Reece wants me to do,” she said. “I need to figure out how to go about solving a twenty-five year-old murder without any evidence or files.”

  Niki shrugged. “Well, if it were me,” she said. “I’d be working on the eye-witness.”

  “Eye-witness?” Brooke asked.

  “Yeah, the memories are still in there,” Niki said, pointing to Brooke’s head. “They’re just buried. Unbury them.”

  “So, like get reverse therapy?” Brooke asked.

  “Hell if I know,” Niki said with a smile. “I do computers, not people.”

  “Sometimes computers are a lot easier,” Brooke said. “This is crazy.”

  Just then, Brooke’s phone rang again. Looking down at the number, Brooke picked it up. “It’s the office,” she said to Niki. “I better take it.”

  “Hello,” she said into the phone. “Oh, hello, Mr. Carlisle.”

  Niki sat up at Brooke’s mention of the senior partner of Brooke’s law firm.

  “What can I do for you?”

  The look on Brooke’s face changed from helpful to confused. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Brooke said, her voice shaking slightly. “There must be some mistake.”

  Brooke shook her head. “No. No, sir,” she added. “But…can’t we at least discuss this in person? I really…no. Of course not.”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes, well, thank you,” she finally said. “Yes. I will.”

  She took the phone away from her ear and looked over at Niki, stunned. “I’ve just been fired,” she said slowly. “No reason given, just fired. My severance package will be delivered by special messenger and my personal belongings are being packed up and sent, too.”

  “What the hell?” Niki asked.

  Brooke stood up and slammed her hand on the table. “I’m going to fight this,” she shouted. “I was, I am, the best damn attorney they have. There is no way I’m going to let them fire me. I’m going to march right in there…”

  Niki walked over to her friend and placed her hands on Brooke’s shoulders. “No, you’re not,” she said sternly.

  “What?” Brooke asked, stunned.

  “You are not going to do anything about this,” Niki said.

  “I’m not going to let them push me around,” she argued.

  “Honey, this isn’t the movies. This is the big, bad, unfair world,” Niki said. “Remember when you told Reece you couldn’t leave town because your caseload was too full?”

  Brooke shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t.”

  Niki nodded. “Reece made a call. He’s the most powerful judge in Cook County. Of course they had to fire you.”

  Brooke slowly sat down in her chair and covered her face with her hands. “Of course,” she whispered. “Why didn’t I realize?”

  “And now, you’re going to take the severance package and walk away,” Niki said. “Because if you don’t, an illegal substance will be found in your desk, or a large amount of money will be placed in your bank account, or a witness will testify that you were bribing jury members.”

  Shocked, Brooke looked up at Niki and shook her head. “He wouldn’t do that to me,” she said. “Would he?”

  “You tell me. Do you really know Reece Callahan?”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Beep-beep-beep. Art groaned and rolled over in bed. He just shut his eyes. How could the damn alarm be going off already?

  “Up and at ‘em, sleepyhead,” came a voice from the end of his bed.

  He barely lifted his head and squinted to see the ghost of Bruce Blackwood hovering near him. “Don’t you have someone else you need to haunt?” Art asked.

  “Nope, sorry,” Bruce replied. “Besides, I need your help.”

  Sitting up, Art rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Okay, what now?”

  “Brooke needs to move,” Bruce said. “She needs to get out from under Callahan’s surveillance.”

  Nodding, Art slipped out of bed and walked over to his bathroom. He turned on the cold water and slapped some on his face. “I agree,” he called, patting his face with a towel. “She’s at her friend’s place for the time being.”

  “I’ve got the perfect place for her to buy,” Bruce said.

  Walking back into his bedroom, Art picked up a sweatshirt. Pushing his head through the neckline, Art looked at Bruce. “Are you a ghost or a real estate agent?”

  Bruce chuckled. “The listing is on the counter in your kitchen,” he said. “Bring her by today. She’ll understand once she gets there.”

  Art nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it once I help her move some of her stuff out of her apartment.”

  “No, she needs to move on this right away,” he said.

  Art studied the ghost for a moment. The teasing tone was gone and Bruce Blackwood looked worried. “Okay, I’ll call my brother and Sam and have them move her stuff out.” He paused. “Are you sure this can’t wait?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,�
� he said. “And when you call her, don’t worry, she’ll love the idea.”

  Brooke’s phone rang again, and before she even looked at the caller, she shook her head. “Now what?” she asked. But when she looked down and saw the call was from Art O’Reilly, her attitude took a decided turn upwards.

  “Hello?” she said once she answered the call.

  “Hey, Brooke, it’s Art,” he said. “I think we need to postpone our 3 o’clock meeting.”

  Disappointed, she took a quick breath and nodded. “That’s okay, really,” she quickly stated. “I can start looking through the files on my own.”

  Art closed his eyes and shook his head. I am such an idiot, he thought when he heard the disappointment in her voice. “No, what I meant to say is that we need to concentrate on more pressing issues,” he continued.

  “More pressing?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know this sounds weird, but there’s this house I think you should look at.”

  “A house?” she asked.

  “Yeah, you know, get out of the apartment where you’re kind of under Reece’s thumb, and get a place of your own.”

  “I never thought about a house,” she mused.

  “This one came recommended,” he added. “It can’t hurt to look.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “I guess it can’t.”

  “I’ll be over in fifteen minutes, and we can put together a plan, okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that’ll be great,” she said. “Thanks.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  She hung up the phone and turned to Niki. “So, Art has a house he wants me to look at,” she said.

  “What?” Niki asked. “I thought he was a cop, not a real estate agent.”

  “He thinks it’s a good idea to get me out of the apartment,” she said. “And, really, since it’s been compromised by Jacarius, I’ll never be safe there. Even if we put Jacarius away, his people will be after me.”

  “That makes a lot of sense,” Niki said.

  Brooke shook her head. “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by everything right now,” she admitted. “I don’t even know what my next step really should be.”