Troubled Waters (The Lake Trilogy, Book 2)

by Grant, AnnaLisa

  Picture after picture tells the story of the worst night of my life, everything from the moments leading up to the accident to the swarm of police cars and ambulances. There’s the fire department using the Jaws of Life to open my father’s door…his lifeless body being pulled from the car…me, on a stretcher being wheeled into an ambulance. There’s blood all over us. Then there is a series of pictures of the police draping a white sheet over my parents’ dead bodies. They’re so sequential, if I flipped them in order it would look like a movie. I don’t understand who would have taken these pictures and why. Moreover, why are they here? What do they have to do with Gregory Meyer?

  “Layla! We’re home!” Claire calls out.

  I don’t answer.

  “Layla?” Claire calls again. She repeats my name a few times until she becomes louder in her approach to the office. “There you are! What are you doing in –.” Claire stops cold in her tracks seeing what I’m looking at and the tears streaming down my face. “Layla, honey…”

  “I don’t understand,” I choke out as Luke joins Claire in the doorway.

  “Oh, Layla.” Luke runs his hands through his hair as he strides across the room to join me.

  “What…what are these?” I manage in between sobs.

  “Layla, I…I know this is difficult…but…you really don’t need to know,” Luke says softly as he gently takes the pictures from me.

  “How could I not need to know why there are real time pictures of the accident that killed my parents?”

  “Come, let’s get you some tea,” Claire says as she pulls me from the floor and escorts me from the room.

  As I settle at the kitchen table with freshly made hot tea, I notice the time. It’s just 9:00 pm so I know I won’t be seeing Will and Tyler stroll in anytime soon. This buys me some time to get some answers from Luke and Claire.

  “Thank you for the tea. Can you please tell me what’s going on now? And, P.S., I hate having to ask that question all the time. I wish people would just tell me without me finding out and then having to ask.” I may be calm, but it doesn’t mean I’m not mad.

  “Layla, there are things that you don’t need to know,” Luke says.

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” I retort. There have been only a few times since living with Luke and Claire that I have responded like a bratty teenager. This is one to add to that list.

  “No, you won’t. Don’t push this, Layla.”

  “If it has to do with my parents’ death, I think I have a right to know!” I demand, raising my voice.

  “Why? What difference is it going to make?” Luke’s temper is rising and I can see that I’m really pushing him on a subject he wants to protect.

  “Tell me! Tell me why there are pictures of the night I killed my parents!” I shout.

  “Layla! Don’t say that!” Claire scolds.

  “Then tell me why the hell someone took pictures of that awful night, and why they’re in a file in your office among all the incriminating evidence against Gregory Meyer!”

  Luke sits down at the table and puts his head in his hands.

  “Is this really how we’re going to start communicating? After everything we’ve been through?” Luke says quietly from behind his hands.

  “No,” I answer after a long beat. “I’m sorry. I was taken off guard by the photos, and seeing them…they captured every moment leading up to and after…I just relived the whole terrifying night.”

  “I can’t tell you, Layla. You don’t want to know.” Luke’s tone is calm, but he’s got fear in his eyes. It’s the same fear I saw the day Will’s father exposed my parents as ecoterrorists and outted Luke as having not come to my father’s legal aid.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Not telling you protects you from more pain. As your father, I just can’t do that to you. I won’t do that to you. So…you can be angry with me if you need to be, but I would rather you be angry with me for the rest of your life than tell you something that would break your heart.”

  “I…I need to take a shower.” I can’t think straight so I do the only other thing that seems to clear my head outside of sitting at the edge of the dock. I turn the water on as hot as I can stand it and strip down after pulling my hair into a messy bun. As I let the water rush over me I feel my muscles relax and my heart rate calm.

  Why on earth would Meyer have photos of that night? Not just photos of the aftermath, but the whole thing. Maybe they’re from a traffic camera. No, there are too many sequential pictures and they’re all from a human level, not a bird’s eye view. Tourist in a restaurant? But even if that were the case, how would he have them? Why would he have them?

  Does it matter? That’s the question.

  Yes. It matters.

  Do I need the answers right now? That’s the bigger question.

  Maybe not.

  I turn the water off after my hands have turned into raisins and wrap a towel around me. As I exit the shower I’m reminded of the night I discovered Marcus’ disturbing message on my mirror. I think about how Luke responded to that event and everything Marcus did. He shielded me, came to my rescue, brought Wes into our lives. He did all of that to protect me. I trusted him then, so why am I bucking him on this?

  Because this is about the night that changed my life forever.

  The night that sent me into five years of hell.

  The night that sent me to Luke and Claire.

  The night that sent me to Will.

  I’ve struggled with this for so long. How can I be happy in a place I would never be had my parents not died that night? Do I really want to bring it back up again, relive that night over and over?

  Regardless of why those pictures exist, Gregory Meyer is behind them. I don’t know why or how, but he was involved in some way. That’s the only explanation as to why those pictures were in those files. He tried to separate me from the only family I had left, and did everything he could to keep me from Will, my only reason for breathing. Rage begins to boil inside me for the man who has single-handedly worked to destroy my life. I am full of new determination to make sure Gregory Meyer gets taken down.

  Regardless of why those pictures exist, Luke has spent the last two years loving and protecting me. He and Claire took me in when I had no one left. He supported my decision to be with Will, despite the looming consequences. He and Claire gave up the lives they built in Davidson to move me to a place where Will and I could be together. He has done nothing but fill the father-shaped hole in my heart and there’s no way I can reject his love now.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” I say entering the kitchen where Luke and Claire are still seated at the table. “I’ll let you do whatever it is you’re doing to nail Meyer’s coffin closed…and when it’s all over, and he’s rotting in prison for the rest of his short life, you tell me about the pictures.”

  “I don’t know how long that’s going to take, Layla,” Luke says quietly but firmly.

  “I know.”

  “Then, as long as you can be patient, you have a deal.” Luke stands and embraces me. “You know I’m only trying to protect you because I love you.”

  “I know that, too.”

  Chapter 30

  Luke and Wes have spent the last weeks combing through every shred of evidence they’ve got. It seems that they have uncovered a plethora of evidence that doesn’t necessarily point at Luke as being the source and jeopardize his status with the Bar Association. It turns out Alexander Briggs was very good at what he did. The evidence has been solid enough that we’ve even had a few visits from Agent Croft with the FBI over the last few months. Will and Eliana have had to make themselves scarce, but with fall classes starting up again, that hasn’t been so difficult.

  “I don’t understand why the FBI is involved – no offence Agent Croft.” This is the second time this month he’s been here. I suppose this isn’t exactly the kind of stuff you fax over.

  “None taken,” he smirks. He’s pretty mellow for an FBI agent. �
�The FBI only gets involved when the subject commits a crime across state lines.”

  “You mean he’s been tormenting people all over the country?” My jaw drops at realizing this man really has no limits.

  “Not all over the country. Just in Virginia, Georgia, and New York. North Carolina has reciprocity with them. That means that if you’re licensed in North Carolina, and have practiced for so many years, you can practice in those other states as well. So, yes, he’s been spreading the love,” Agent Croft answers.

  “Do you mind if I ask what the charges are?” All I’ve seen is evidence collecting, but no one has said anything about what they’re going to charge him with. “I mean… I know he’s broken the law, but I don’t know what that means in legal terms.”

  “She’s ok,” Luke says, indicating that I can handle it. I appreciate his confidence in me.

  “We’ve been working on a foundational charge of conspiracy because he never is directly involved with what goes down, but conspiracy is hard to prove. There has to be solid evidence, for example, that he provided the tools, means, or information that led to the crime committed.”

  “Like recorded conversation?” I ask, knowing that Wes, Taylor, and Cline had been recording their dealings with Meyer for quite some time.

  “Yes, but we need something other than the recorded conversations between Meyer and his thugs, however useful they may be.”

  I feel a twinge of offence at Agent Croft’s reference to Wes as a thug, but that’s how Meyer painted him and the others. They were just muscle, a means to his criminal end. I can’t take any more of hearing about all the obstacles to taking Gregory Meyer down so I leave the office to find Claire in the kitchen. She’s at the table flipping through some new bridal magazines that I bought the other day. Before she knows I’m there, I hear her actually turn a page and sigh at the gown she’s looking at.

  “You’re such a hopeless romantic,” I say kissing the top of her head.

  “Guilty!” she says beaming. “Look at this one, Layla. Oh, you would look so beautiful in it!”

  “It’s a bit much, don’t you think? I mean, for a garden wedding?” The dress is a full on ball gown, complete with crystals and a long train. “I want to look beautiful that day, but I draw the line at Disney Princess.”

  “I know…you want simple. It’ll be just lovely…a very Layla wedding. Oh, I called and reserved the Gardens today.”

  “Already?”

  “Layla, you’re aware that you’re getting married in eight months, right?” Her eyebrows are lifted in surprise.

  “No, it’s not eight, it’s…” I look at my phone to see what today is and then actually count the months on my fingers. “Oh my gosh. I’m getting married in eight months. Mom…I haven’t done anything to prepare for this. Should I be doing something? What should I be doing? Oh my gosh, Will is going to flip!”

  “Settle down, honey. He’s not going to flip. You want a small wedding, so there’s not as much to do if you were going the path Will wanted. But we really should jump on this. At least we’ve got the most important detail out of the way. After the groom, the place was the most important and that’s all set! We just need to chat about the location for the reception and what you want to do for food, flowers, music.”

  “Ok, um…can we have the reception here? There won’t be a lot of people, so we’ll have plenty of room. It would feel more like a family event to have the reception at home, and the idea of going to some hotel ballroom just sounds too fancy for me.”

  “If that’s what you’d like to do, we can do that. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Claire grins from ear to ear. I know she’s thrilled and bursting at the seams inside.

  “Ladies…” Agent Croft stands just inside the kitchen, with Luke close behind. “I’ll be leaving now. Thank you, again, for your hospitality, Claire. Layla, always a pleasure. Keep asking questions…you may make a good FBI agent one day.” He smiles at me and nods his head. “Get a good look at me because I won’t be back any time soon. Luke and Wes have pulled together enough evidence that, with what we have on Meyer, we’ll be ready to file charges soon.”

  “That’s great! When do I get to see him in an orange jumpsuit?” I say partly teasing, but mostly serious.

  “You won’t see Gregory Meyer in an orange jumpsuit until the jury convicts him, and that’ll take a while. It’s going to be a long trial. But, while he’s under prosecution, he’ll be heavily monitored, so he won’t be enjoying all the finer things in life that he’s become accustomed to having. I hope he likes that mansion of his because his ankle monitor won’t get him very far.”

  “Thank you, Agent Croft,” I say.

  “It’s my pleasure, Layla. Luke told me about what he put you through with Will. I’m sorry for your loss, but am happy that you’ve found someone. Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. But for all you’ve been through, I’ll consider it a personal triumph to take him down on your behalf.”

  Luke escorts Agent Croft out and returns within moments. I can’t believe they’re so close to filing actual charges. Seeing Gregory Meyer pay for what he’s done had always been this lofty goal, a dream of sorts that was out there somewhere. But now…it’s really going to happen. Strangely, I’m filled with mixed emotions. Regardless of what this man has done, he’s the father of the man I love. Without him, Will wouldn’t exist. I feel an amount of sadness for him, however small it may be. If all goes as planned, Gregory Meyer will spend the rest of his days rotting in prison.

  “Is this really going to happen? I mean, is he really going to pay for everything that he’s done?” I ask Luke. I’m overwhelmed with the thought that Meyer has every judge in every county he’s ever practiced, in his back pocket. How is this ever going to be a fair trial?

  “Well, to be honest Layla, he’s going to pay for very little of what he’s done. Most of his indiscretions have no trail leading to him. He’s guilty as sin, but without evidence, even circumstantial evidence, there’s nothing we can do. I need you to prepare yourself for that.” Luke is serious and doesn’t seem as hopeful as I need him to be in this moment.

  “Then what’s the point?” I ask, defeated.

  “Layla, honey, what Luke is trying to say is that, even though we don’t have enough evidence to convict him for everything he’s done, the sentence for what we do have evidence for will be enough to send him away forever.” Claire’s tone is more reassuring and I’m immediately put at ease.

  “And what happens to Wes? He, along with Taylor and Cline, were the ones who actually committed the crimes. Is Wes going to go to jail?” I can’t stand the thought of Wes being punished for what Gregory Meyer coerced him into doing.

  “Part of my deal with Agent Croft is that Wes and the others won’t face charges if they testify and provide evidence that convicts Meyer. So, don’t worry, Wes is safe.”

  “Once the trial starts, will you have to go back to North Carolina? Oh, my gosh, Dad! Will you have to defend him? You were on retainer!” I’m absolutely freaked out now. How could Luke possibly work in a capacity to defend that demon incarnate!

  “Layla, stop worrying! No, I won’t be defending him. Yes, I was on retainer, and technically the retainer doesn’t run out until the end of the year, but considering the circumstances, I doubt Meyer would even approach me about that anyway. The plan is to live seemingly unaware of the proceedings. There’s no reason for me to be involved and Meyer reaching out to me for counsel is unlikely. I’m the only one who knew about his dealings and if the FBI see that he’s reached out to me after such a long separation, it’ll raise suspicion.”

  “So, we can watch Gregory Meyer fall from a distance?”

  “Yes. It’ll get some national attention, so we can watch him come unraveled with commentary and everything.” Luke hugs me and I feel better about my concerns.

  There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Meyer is going to pay for his years of crushing anyone who opposed him under his thumb. It won’t ch
ange anything for me now being engaged to John Holland, but at least we’ll be able to really relax. Even though I don’t know how long it will take, the vision of him in that orange jumpsuit will get me through the days of waiting.

  Claire and I spend the next few hours looking through bridal magazines and jotting down ideas for my small but elegant garden wedding. She’s calmed my nerves about having not been as on top of things as I should have been and assured me eight months is plenty of time to plan my wedding.

  Tyler is back for another visit, which makes me so happy for Will. It was hard saying goodbye to him after Will’s birthday weekend so when he called a few days ago and said that he found a great last minute flight, we could hardly refuse. He stayed at Will’s last night since Agent Croft was already here, but now that there’s no FBI presence, the boys will set up camp here for the next two nights.

  By the time Will and Tyler arrive back at the house from their afternoon doing all the things that boys love to do, I have a page of ideas and things to do for the wedding, while Claire has four pages. My list has things like checking on flowers that are in bloom in July, and taking Will cake testing.

  “I’m so on board for cake testing? Do you think we can just make our way around town to all the different bakeries?” Will kisses my cheek after reviewing my list.

  “I’m sure we can milk it for a couple of months,” I say laughing at his cuteness.

  “So, Tyler, while you’re here,” Will begins. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Sure man…what’s up?” Tyler grabs a soda from the fridge and plops down on a bar stool at the counter. I love how they have just picked right back up where they left off in their friendship.

  “There just never seemed to be a perfect time when you were here for my birthday, but…I wanted to know…will you be my best man?” Will’s eyes are soft. It means so much to me that he has the opportunity to even ask Tyler. With the way our lives are now, having someone as important as Tyler in our wedding wasn’t a possibility until now. I know Will wants our wedding day to be all about what I want, but it wouldn’t be complete without having Tyler stand with Will.