by M. L. Ray
He sat in the back of the taxi, watching the cars move slowly, like an inchworm along a stick. He glanced out the windows at the other vehicles, and noticed that more than half of the cars on the street were taxis cabs. Did no one in this town drive themselves?
Twenty minutes later, the traffic started to thin out, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He still hadn’t figured out what he was going to say to Brooke when he saw her. Hey! Remember me? I’m the man you were supposed to marry instead of some unknown guy your family’s never heard of? He discarded that idea; the old Brooke wouldn’t have appreciated his sarcasm. But then again, the old Brooke would have never dropped off the face of the earth and married some unknown guy! And not told her family or friends about it!
“Here you are,” the driver announced, coming to a stop in front of a lavish apartment building that stood at least twenty floors high.
He paid the taxi fare, grimacing as he realized that he was going to have to find an ATM if he kept going through cash this fast. He pulled his suitcase out of the cab, and then made his way to where a uniformed porter stood on the red carpet leading into the building.
“Good evening, sir. May I help you find someone?” the older man asked. He was a tall man, only an inch or two shorter than Peter’s 6’4”, with white hair that was covered by a brimmed hat. His red, double breasted coat stretched over his ample stomach, and Peter immediately wondered if he had ever lost one of the gold buttons from the strain upon the fabric.
“I was looking for the Grayson residence,” Peter told him with a smile.
The man looked at his suitcase and then back to his eyes, “Were they expecting you?”
Peter shook his head, “No. I’m in town for a few hours and I’m a friend of Brooke’s.”
“Well, I will call up, but Mr. Grayson asked for his car to be brought around in half an hour as he and Mrs. Grayson were going out for the evening.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Peter appeared to be undecided about his next action and then nodded his head, “Well, I wouldn’t want to disrupt their plans. I’ll be back in town in a week; I’ll give them a call from the airport and make arrangements to meet up with them then.” Peter nodded at the man and then waved for the taxi driver to wait.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call up and let them know you’re here?”
“No, really. I’d much rather it be a surprise when I come back. Brooke would feel badly if she knew I was down here and she couldn’t spend any time with me.”
The porter looked unsure of himself but then he nodded, “Very good. Have a nice flight to wherever your final destination is this evening.”
Peter nodded to the man, “Thanks. I look forward to seeing you again in a week.”
“Very good, sir.”
Peter climbed back inside the taxi and then asked his driver, “Feel like playing a little game?”
“A game?” the taxi driver asked.
“Yeah. See, I’m here to see an old friend of mine, but she doesn’t know I’m in town. She’s getting ready to go out with her husband, and I want to follow her and then surprise her at dinner.”
“You wish to stalk this woman?” the driver asked with unease in his voice.
“No! No! I don’t want to stalk anyone; I just want you to follow her because I’m not sure which restaurant they’re headed to. I’ll make it worth your while,” Peter told him, holding up a hundred dollar bill.
“Oh…I can do that. We will park just inside the garage. That way, they cannot leave without us seeing them do so.”
“Brilliant plan.”
The driver drove around the block, and then pulled into the small parking garage situated beneath the apartment building, “We will wait here. You tell me when you see their car leave.”
Peter nodded his head, and started scanning the parking garage for movement. Ten minutes later, the elevator doors opened, and he watched as an unknown man escorted a very skimpily clad Brooke out and towards a black sports car.
Peter tried not to dwell on what she was, or wasn’t, wearing. He kept his eyes trained on her face and was stunned at the blankness of her expression. She almost acted bored!
“You wish me to follow them?” the taxi driver asked.
“Yes, but stay back far enough they can’t see us.”
“Will do.” The taxi set off after the dark black sports car, keeping several vehicles in between them as it slowly made its way back downtown. It finally came to a stop in front of a very exclusive restaurant and nightclub, and Peter cringed as he looked down at what he was wearing.
Worn denim jeans, a button down chambray shirt in blue, with a leather belt and buckle wrapped around his waist. Worn western boots completed his attire – definitely not up to New York standards.
As he sat there, he saw a delivery truck go down the alley behind the building. Several men got out of the vehicle and began carrying boxes from their delivery van into the back of the restaurant.
Peter leaned forward and gestured towards a side street a block away, “Do me a favor, pull your cab down there and just park. I’m going to see just how swanky this place is and I’ll be right back.”
“Why do you not just go in the front door?” the driver asked confused.
“Did you see what I was wearing when I got in your cab? I’ll stick out like a sore thumb, and that would embarrass Brooke. The exact opposite of what I’m here to do.”
When the cab driver nodded his head, Peter slid out of the cab and hurried down the alley. He grabbed a stack of boxes, and held them in front of him as he headed towards the propped open door. He passed several men coming out of the restaurant and one of them told him, “Down the hallway to your left.”
“Got it,” Peter told the unknown man, and turned towards his left. He could hear soft music coming from his right, and the distinct sounds of a working kitchen to his left. He set his stack of boxes down with the others, and then headed back to the hallway. Instead of exiting, he turned to his left and slid into the back of the nightclub portion of the building.
The dark walls and ceilings, accompanied by dim lighting aided him in his attempt to remain undetected. He could see groups of people gathered around small tables, or enjoying themselves on the dance floor. What he didn’t immediately see was Brooke.
He let his eyes slowly scan the large room, and then he spotted her in the back corner with the man she’d left the apartment with. He assumed the man was her husband, Zachary Grayson.
He watched as they were joined by several other gentlemen, all of whom paid what Peter deemed an inappropriate amount of attention to Brooke. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but even from a distance, he could read her body language – she was uncomfortable and barely tolerating the unwanted attention.
When an older man took her arm and pulled her towards the dance floor, Peter couldn’t believe she didn’t put up a struggle or object. The man had his hands all over her back, and was holding her much too close. Much too close! Peter was livid on her behalf, and then they turned around so he could see her face. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and Peter immediately knew that something was not right with this situation.
When the music stopped, Brooke excused herself and headed towards the opposite side of the dance floor. Peter stayed close to the walls and followed her, relieved to see she was only heading towards the women’s washroom.
He waited for a few minutes, but when she didn’t come out, he grew concerned that his opportunity to speak with her alone was almost gone. Stepping up to the bathroom door, he gently tapped on the wooden door and then pushed the door open a crack. “Brooke?” he whispered loudly, lest there be other occupants in the elegantly appointed room.
Hearing no answer to his question, he decided to chance it, and slid through the opening. He pushed the door shut behind him, engaging the deadbolt at he did so. He bent over and was relieved to see only one pair of feet beneath the stalls. “Brooke?”
He heard a sniffle and then a
soft voice, “Tell Zachary I’ll be right out.”
Tell Zachary? “Brooke? It’s Peter.”
“Peter?” her voice came again, a little higher pitched and confused. A few seconds later, the stall door opened and she emerged from the stall with a look of shock on her face. “Peter? What are you doing here?”
Peter looked at her and could see that she was almost too thin. Though her makeup was expertly done, her skin had a slight pallor to it, as if she hadn’t spent any time in the sun for months. “Are you okay?”
She nodded once and then asked again, wringing her hands at the same time, “What are you doing here? Does Zachary know you’re here?”
Peter shook his head, “No one knows I’m here. After you called home a few weeks ago, everyone realized that something wasn’t right, and I came out here to find you. I stopped by your apartment, but you and your husband were headed out.”
Brooke looked like she was going to be sick, “You know about my marriage?”
“I don’t know that I would go that far. Michelle found a copy of your marriage license on line when she was researching the phone number you called from.”
“Michelle?” Brooke’s face fell and the tears that she’d been so valiantly trying to hold back spilled over.
Chapter 43
She felt the tears run over her cheeks and drip onto her chest. “I…Peter…”
Peter couldn’t stand to see her so upset, and he slowly approached her, pulling her into his arms when she didn’t put up any resistance. It had been years since he’d last held her in his arms, but the old feelings he had for her hadn’t faded one bit. I still love her!
“Brooke, what’s going on here?” He started to run his hands up and down her back, and then realized the entire back of her dress was missing. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close for a moment, relishing the way she leaned into him after a few seconds pause. They stayed that way for several long heartbeats, but then reality returned.
“I’ve been such a fool,” she told him, pushing away from his chest to pace the small distance of the bathroom. “He’s going to come looking for me if I don’t get back out there soon.”
“Who’s going to come looking for you? Your husband?”
Brooke nodded nervously, “Yeah. Zachary doesn’t like it when I’m out of his sight for very long.”
“Sounds like he’s a controlling jerk,” Peter said before he could stop himself. He started to apologize, but then her murmured words registered.
“You don’t know that half of it.”
Peter looked at her and then asked her, “Brooke, do you want to stay here? In New York? Is that why you were trying to contact Tyler? Are you in trouble?”
Brooke wrapped her arms around herself as another bout of shivers wracked her body. Zachary hadn’t given her any advance notice of tonight’s little party, or the fact that she was expected to entertain his guests and then pose for some photos with them later. The man who’d pulled her to the dance floor was running some sort of political campaign, and seemed to think that having a beautiful woman hanging on his arm would help his chances of winning an election.
Brooke disagreed, but then again – she hadn’t been asked for her opinion. Since she hadn’t been forewarned, she’d gone all day long without taking anything, and hadn’t had a chance to grab even half a pill, not with Zachary watching her every move. As far as he knew, she should have taken her vitamins with her lunch and there should have been plenty of the drug still in her system for tonight’s event.
She shivered again, and Peter noticed right away. “Are you cold?”
She shook her head, and then regretted the motion. Great, now my head is going to get in on the action. If my stomach decides to get involved too, Zachary will know something’s not quite right, and my chance of getting away from him…
She looked up at Peter and then walked to him, taking his hands in her own as she searched his eyes. “How did you get here?”
“A taxi. I had it follow you from the apartment. He’s waiting for me a block away.”
Brooke smiled, her heart feeling a glimmer of hope for a brighter future for the first time in weeks. “Let’s go.” She turned towards the door, pulling him behind her.
“Wait! Where are we going?”
“Away! Please, we have to hurry before he comes looking for me.” When Peter didn’t seem to share her urgency, she turned to him, “Please! Peter, you’re my only hope right now. Please, get me away from here.”
Peter didn’t understand what was going on, but he could see the fear in her eyes and hear the desperation in her voice. “Easy, Brooke. If you want to leave the restaurant, I’ll take you home. Why don’t you go tell…”
She shook her head vehemently, “You don’t get it. Zachary can’t know where I am, or he’ll never let me leave. I know this doesn’t make much sense, but I promise to explain everything. Just, make sure the coast is clear, and get me out of the restaurant. Please?”
Peter nodded his head and then pulled her to stand behind him, “Fine. Let me make sure there’s no one out in the hallway.” He pulled the door open and then exited the room, feeling her holding onto the back of his shirt as he quickly made his way along the back wall and back to the hallway next to the kitchen.
He didn’t pause, but headed for the back door. Once outside, he reached behind him and pulled her to walk next to him, noticing that she was having trouble keeping up because of the high heels she was wearing. “Those were not meant for walking long distances,” he nodded towards her feet.
Brooke looked down and then gave him a hesitant smile, “No, they weren’t.” She looked back over her shoulder nervously, and then tried to hurry her steps, “Where is this taxi you said was waiting for you?”
“Across the street, just there,” he replied, pointing towards the cab that was sitting on the opposite street corner.
Peter stepped onto the sidewalk and waved to get the driver’s attention. He was pleased when the man waved back and then pulled out into traffic. “He’s going to come to us.” He noticed that she kept looking back down the alleyway and then towards the front of the restaurant as if she expected someone to come chasing after her. Oh Brooke, darlin’ what did you get yourself mixed up in?
The taxi driver pulled up, and Peter helped Brooke into the back before sliding in next to her. “Back to her apartment…”
“No! I can’t go back there. Don’t you have a hotel room or something…”
Peter looked at her attire and then asked, “Don’t you want to go home and change clothes?”
“No! Please, I can’t go back there.” She paused for a moment to marshall her thoughts, and then took a deep breath. She asked the driver if he could take them to a different address. When the driver nodded, she seemed to relax.
“Where did you tell him to take us?”
“Some storage units. My stuff is there, and I can get a change of clothes and pick up my car all at the same time.”
“Brooke, what’s going on?” Peter asked her, holding her stare with his own brown eyes.
Brooke grew quiet, lost in her own thoughts as she tried to cope with her body’s withdrawals from the drugs, and the realization that she needed to get as far away from New York City as possible. Immediately. Do not wait till morning. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. She needed to leave. Now!
“Peter, how long were you planning on staying in the city?” she asked, changing the topic.
“I really didn’t have a set plan. I only came out here to see if you were okay. I’ve already ascertained the answer to that is no, so tell me what I can do to help you.”
“I’m leaving.”
“What do you mean, leaving?”
“I need to get out of the city. As soon as Zachary realizes I’m not at the restaurant, he’ll have every cop in the city looking for me. You don’t know him, but he works for the DA’s office and has lots of connections. Everyone loves him and won’t
hesitate to help him, even if it involves skirting the rules.”
Peter was quiet for a moment and then he told her, “I’ll make you a deal. You let me tag along with you, wherever you’re going, and after we get someplace you deem safe, you tell me everything that’s going on here.”
Another shiver wracked her body as she nodded, “Fine.” She hated that her teeth were chattering, but then her stomach got in on the action, and she swallowed convulsively as the urge to vomit captured her attention.
Peter saw her shiver and then the color drain from her face, “You are sick!”
Brooke shook her head, “No! Withdrawals.” She saw his look of shock, and hurried to assure him, “It’s not what you’re thinking and I will explain everything, but right now I need this cab to stop.”
Peter told the driver to pull over and then watched, helplessly as Brooke opened her door and emptied her stomach onto the pavement. He took the handful of tissues the driver handed over the backseat, and the bottle of water.
When she was finished and leaned back into the cab, he handed her first the tissues and then the water. “Do you need a doctor?”
Brooke shook her head, “I’m fine. Or, I will be.” She turned to look at him, “In case I forget to say it, thank you for caring enough to come find out what was going on.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. I still don’t know much.”
“Thank you anyway.” She was prevented from commenting further, because the taxi arrived at the address she’d given him.
“Do you folks need me to wait around?” the driver asked.
“No,” Brooke said with a shake of her head.
“I guess not. Thanks for everything.” Peter paid the fare, including the extra hundred dollars he’d promised the man.
“You sure you’ll be okay here?” the driver asked, looking around at the deserted location that didn’t even have the benefit of street lights. He handed Peter a business card with a phone number on it, “That’s my cell phone number. If you need a ride back to town, call me and I’ll come back.”
