Watching You

by Leslie A. Kelly

  “Steve, let’s talk about this.” He started walking again, slowly, as if approaching a wild animal. He had rounded the end of the pool and was moving up the long side, getting to within about twenty feet of them. Steve was perhaps another twenty-five feet from the edge of the sheer, rocky cliff. “I’ll confess to everything. Just let her go. She’s innocent, and she needs help.”

  The other man laughed, sounding almost happy. “You love her. You really do. The famous Reece Winchester, Mr. Cool, Mr. Aloof, has fallen in love at last.”

  “You’re not thinking straight. You don’t want to do this.”

  He took another cautious step. Steve seemed beyond noticing for the moment.

  “Of course I do. My life is ruined. Why shouldn’t yours be?” He laughed again, the laughter shifting into a crazed wounded animal sound.

  Cursing the fact that he’d dropped his cell phone on the counter as he’d walked through the kitchen, Reece begged the man. “Bring her back. Please. I’ll call the police right this minute and you can watch them take me into custody.”

  Another step for both of them. Knowing he wasn’t getting through, he went over his options. He couldn’t risk going for the phone to prove he meant what he said. Honestly, he wasn’t sure a confession would stop the man. Now that Steve had realized how terrified Reece was for Jess, he might have only murderous revenge on his mind.

  Reece moved again—slow motion, drag the shot, zoom in on the upper body, don’t show the feet. The actor draws closer, the audience barely noticing.

  He was playing a deadly game of chicken with the man, but he had no other choice.

  Steve didn’t take his eyes off Reece’s face, too lost to anger and grief to notice he was getting closer. Not close enough to charge him, but almost. If they got to within ten feet of the edge, Reece would make a break for it. Now, it seemed wiser to continue to try to reason with him.

  “Do you know why, Steve? Why your father died?”

  “Because you and your brothers murdered him.”

  Jessica stiffened in Steve’s arms. She was aware and listening. He hoped she was waiting for her chance to escape, and not so shocked by the ugly truths she was hearing that she hesitated.

  “It wasn’t murder, it was an accident. Raine was just a teenager. They fought.”

  “I know. I talked to the girl.”

  Reece sucked in a surprised breath. The girl…the missing girl?

  “You didn’t expect that, did you? She came to see me a couple of months ago, when I first got back. I gave her money, and she told me everything.”

  Not everything. They’d looked for her over the years, trying to find out what had gone on that night in Harry Baker’s house. Raine’s recollection was hazy. He’d been drunk, and a little insane, as all his repressed memories from childhood exploded into his brain like a bullet. All because of the nameless girl, who he hadn’t even known was in the house until he heard her scream.

  “If you found her, you know what really happened. You know why Raine snapped. Your father was raping her, Steve. He was raping a girl who looked no more than thirteen.”

  “That’s a lie,” he shouted.

  “You know it’s true.” Another step. “I’ve heard the rumors about what was found on Harry’s computer after he died…rumors you paid to keep quiet.”

  Steve’s head swung back and forth violently, whether in denial, or in an effort to shake the memories out, Reece didn’t know. He only knew the man was listening. More importantly, he’d stopped backing up.

  “Your dad…” Good old Uncle Harry, they’d called him throughout the years when he’d been their agent. Family friend. Jolly business partner. High-functioning alcoholic. Life of the party. Fucking sick rapist. “He invited Raine over that night so they could say goodbye before my brother left for boot camp. He gave him alcohol.”

  Raine had been well under the legal age in California. That alone showed the kind of man “Uncle” Harry had been.

  “They had a few drinks, and Raine was too drunk to drive home. He decided to crash at the house.”

  The youngest Winchester kid, cereal commercial star, had been seventeen years old, turning eighteen and leaving for the military the very next day. Before he got on the plane, he took a detour to hell.

  “He woke up in the middle of the night hearing a girl crying for help and went out to investigate. He saw your father holding her down.”

  He didn’t add that the moment had made all the horrific, repressed memories his kid brother had kept hidden from everyone—even himself—rupture inside his brain.

  “He snapped, Steve. He went a little crazy, and the two of them fought. What happened was a fight. Raine wasn’t trying to kill Harry.”

  Steve had been quietly listening, not appearing convinced, but at least paying attention. Now, though, his banked fury roared into flame again. “Liar—you liar! After the girl hid outside, she saw my father on the porch, screaming at Raine as he ran away. He was fine. And then she saw you and your other brother come back a little while later. After you left, my father was dead on the floor with a bullet in his head. You and Rowan did it. Don’t try to pass this off on Raine. It was you.”

  Barely listening to the man’s slurred raving, Reece shook his head. “You’ve got it wrong. Jesus, Steve, you don’t understand what happened. You don’t get it.”

  “What don’t I get? Cold-blooded murder?”

  Reece swept both hands through his hair, feeling weary and heartsick. He took a step forward, but Steve warned him with a glare not to do it again. Still, they were closer than they’d been since the standoff had started. Close enough for Reece to lower his voice. He wanted Steve to have to really pay attention to what he was going to say next. He needed him to hear.

  “Didn’t you ever wonder?”

  “Wonder what, why you killed my father?”

  “About Rachel. Didn’t you wonder why she changed so much?”

  Steve’s suddenly grieved expression told him what he needed to know. He still had feelings for Reece’s sister. They were the key to getting through to him.

  “You must have asked yourself why she went from a cheerful, happy girl into someone so moody and depressed. Why she wanted to quit acting, why she stopped wearing makeup and pretty clothes. Why she broke up with you, why she started taking pills and doing coke.”

  “Her new friends…”

  “There were no new friends. I was there. I saw her at home every night, saying nothing, turning into a pale shadow, afraid to leave the house. Don’t you think if she really was with a new crowd, pictures would have shown up in a tabloid, especially after she died?”

  Steve looked as if someone had punched him in the gut. He groaned and leaned forward a little, though he didn’t drop his hostage.

  Reece suddenly realized Jess was watching him closely. Her eyes looked clearer, more focused. She stared into his, letting him know she was feeling better, able to help in her own rescue. But he didn’t want to risk rushing them, not when they were so close to the cliff, and Steve was so strong. He much preferred to convince the man to let her go of his own free will, and believed he might be getting somewhere.

  “Why are you telling me all this?” Steve mumbled. “She’s been dead for eighteen years.”

  “Because you need to know the truth.” He put into words something he’d never said out loud to anyone other than his two brothers. “She had all the classic signs of molestation.”

  Steve’s turned apoplectic. “I never touched her! We never…”

  “I know.” He moved in—within ten feet now. “I know you didn’t. She told me she wanted to wait until you two got married. You really were the sweetest teenagers in Hollywood.”

  They had been. Remembering the way his only sister had laughed at being called a prissy virgin, how she’d been proud of it, he wanted to scream at the injustice. She’d been too good for the world they’d grown up in. Much too good. And it had killed her.

  Steve was heaving in deep
breaths. His grip on Jessica might have loosened a bit, and his attention had definitely refocused. “You really think someone hurt her?”

  “I know it. It started when she was fifteen and continued until the night she died.”

  Looking stunned, Steve stumbled backward, causing Reece’s heart to lurch. But he quickly steadied himself, and Jess, barking, “Who? Who was it?”

  Was it really so hard for him to understand? Couldn’t he connect the dots?

  Maybe not. Jess hadn’t wanted to believe her teacher intended to steal her work. So a man refusing to accept his own father had raped his teenage girlfriend probably made sense.

  Reece knew better than to just say it; he had to take Steve back in time. Right to the night when Reece’s entire life had changed direction, setting him on a completely new course. “The night Rachel died…”

  Steve flinched.

  “You know she was in a hotel suite in Atlanta, babysitting Raine.”

  “She called me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I was still mad at her for breaking up with me and I didn’t answer.”

  Reece knew that. It was part of the legend, one of the reasons the fans had blamed him.

  “She and Raine were watching a rerun of Dear Family—the episode she guest starred in.”

  “Season four, episode seven. That’s when we met.” His voice cracked. “She played the new girl in school who I was crazy about.”

  “I know. I think that’s why she called.”

  “Oh, God…if I’d answered…”

  “Don’t do that to yourself. I really don’t think it would have changed anything. Not once he showed up.”

  Steve stepped toward him, bringing Jess along. She stumbled, but he kept her against his chest. “Who? Who showed up?”

  Reece moved in. Eight steps. “Raine was sick. He had caught a cold when they were on set. Rachel gave him cough medicine and put him to bed.”

  “Get on with it.” Steve looked like a man possessed.

  “You have to understand how I know what happened. Raine woke up later, wanting a glass of water. He heard Rachel crying out, saying the word stop over and over.”

  “Oh, God.” Steve lifted a shoulder and bent his face to it, trying to wipe away tears.

  “He went into the living room of the suite and saw her. Her clothes were torn, and she was being held down by a man. A man Raine recognized. A man he called Uncle.”

  Steve gasped, at last understanding. “No. Don’t you dare say that.”

  “It was your father. Good old Uncle Harry. Life of every party.”

  “You’re lying.” Steve puffed up again, all anger, vengeance, and disbelief. “That’s not true. My father was a great man.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare defend him to me,” Reece roared, his own fury rolling over him. Eighteen years’ worth of it. “That man destroyed my family.”

  “It couldn’t have been him. He wouldn’t…”

  “Raine saw him raping her. He was six years old. He didn’t understand what he was seeing then, but he remembers now and understands everything.”

  Jessica tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes shining. She was probably seeing the scene as he did whenever his worst dreams taunted him, and it had brought her to tears. Not unexpectedly, she was focused on his drama, not on her own dangerous situation.

  “When Rachel realized he was up, she hissed at Raine to go back to bed.”

  The brothers had wondered, over the years, what would have happened if Harry had been less focused on assault and more on her words. If he’d known Raine had seen him, might two of the Winchester siblings have gone over the railing that night?

  “Go on, don’t stop now,” Steve snapped.

  “Raine hid but watched from a dark hallway. She pushed Harry off her and ran to the balcony. Your father followed her, trying to get her to stop screaming. Only one of them came back in alive. You tell me why.”

  They stared at each other, both of them breathing heavily, both strained, tense, full of pain and anger. Both of them had loved the same lost girl. Both of them had once considered Harry Baker a good guy. Both of them had seen their lives, dreams, and families torn apart.

  Both of them now knew the truth.

  Steve’s face crumpled. “Do you really think he…he killed her?”

  Reece had wondered that same thing for years. “I don’t know.”

  No one ever would.

  Maybe his sister had turned the wrong way while trying to escape and fell by accident. Maybe she’d intentionally jumped, unable to stand another minute of what was happening to her. Or maybe the man who’d been attacking her pushed her over so he could keep her quiet.

  Raine hadn’t witnessed their sister’s final seconds. A terrified, sick little boy, he had crawled back into his bed, certain he’d been dreaming. Even when he found out Rachel was gone, he didn’t let himself remember, blocking the whole thing out of his mind for years.

  Rachel’s death would always remain an unknowable secret, a Hollywood mystery that would never be solved.

  “Finish it, Reece. Please,” said Steve.

  Yes. Time to finish.

  “Raine was traumatized. For his own sanity, his subconscious made him forget,” he said, feeling completely exhausted and beaten down. “Six years ago, when he saw your father attacking that girl, he said it was like somebody had taken a big needle and injected all the memories back into his head. He lost it. He just went mad with grief and rage.”

  Steve slowly nodded. “Raine attacked him. The girl ran. They fought. That’s why the house was all torn up but nothing was stolen.”

  “Yes.”

  Reece had come to the last moments of the story, the final confession. He had to admit to the part he had played on that awful night, when he at last learned the truth about his sister and had gone to confront the man responsible. Now was when Jessica would find out who he really was. He wondered if she would even be able to look at him again.

  “Raine called me after he left the house. He was still half-drunk, beaten up, bloody, and wandering the streets. We went and found him and took him back to my place. He was just coherent enough to tell us everything, including his memories from the night Rachel…died.”

  “Rachel, oh God,” Steve moaned, his mind clearly still on her more than everything else.

  Reece plowed on, back in control of his emotions, wanting the telling over with. “Rowan and I went to Harry’s house. I don’t know what we were planning to do. Maybe kill him. Maybe continue to beat the shit out of him. Maybe call the cops. But it was too late. Whatever happened during the fight, Harry had been badly hurt. We found him dead on the living room floor.”

  Steve was still whispering Rachel’s name, barely paying attention. He’d loosened his grip on Jess, almost enough for her to slip free. She hadn’t done it, though. Instead, she was watching Reece, more interested in the ugly story than in dashing to safety. She appeared not only sad, but also a little puzzled, confused by something he had said.

  “For what it’s worth, I would have called 911 if he were still alive. He wasn’t. You have to know, though, that Raine did not murder him. It was a fair fight. My brother was young and strong, but your dad was a big guy. It could have gone either way.”

  Steve whispered something. Then he repeated it. “Yes, he was. Very big. So big.”

  At that moment, Reece wasn’t entirely sure what Steve was thinking. About his father fighting with Raine…or attacking Rachel.

  “She was so tiny, so vulnerable.”

  Rachel. The man was tormenting himself with visions of what his father had done. Reece knew from experience that he would do that for a long time to come. Reece and his brothers certainly had.

  “What did you do after you found him?” asked Jess, more interested in old history than in her current situation.

  “Well, we weren’t about to let our kid brother get locked up for killing the man who destroyed our sister—and our entire family.”

&nbs
p; Silence. And then she softly gasped. “You cleaned it up.” She shook her head, deep in thought. “Just like your mother’s car.”

  Nodding, he set up the final scene and ran down the verbal storyboard quickly, moment by moment. “We made the bed in the guest room. Washed every dish. Wiped down every counter and every piece of furniture he might have touched. We deleted the call records on the house phone and took the cell with us. We removed every trace of Raine’s presence—and ours—from the house. We even raked the gravel driveway so there was no evidence of my car being there. Then we left and never looked back.”

  Steve had finally started paying close attention again. He didn’t say a word, but he did drop his arms, easily and without fanfare. After all that had happened, Jessica merely walked away from the man.

  Reece started breathing normally again.

  She didn’t come to him, didn’t fly into his arms. She had to know this wasn’t over, so she went to the side, the three of them forming an odd, emotional triangle.

  “I’d like to say I’m sorry, Steve. It isn’t entirely a lie. I am sorry your life was ruined.”

  The other man, so still, so silent, just continued to stare.

  “Reece,” Jessica murmured.

  Not wanting her to draw Steve’s attention again, he didn’t respond. “If it helps, Rowan and I never got over that night. Raine left town not even knowing Harry was dead, or that we’d covered it up. Soon after that, I quit acting. Rowan dropped out of law school and joined the LAPD. I think we were both doing penance, giving up something we had once wanted more than anything.”

  Small comfort, not much punishment, but it was all he had to offer.

  The moment stretched on. He saw a dullness in Baker’s eyes, as if he had accepted everything he’d been told but still couldn’t wrap his brain around it. Well, that wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t every day you learned your father had been a monster and had died because he was trying to hurt another young girl.

  “Reece, listen,” she said.

  “I’ll confess,” Reece said, meaning it. “I’ll take the blame for everything. But please, leave my brothers out of it.”

  “Reece, please!”