“The usual guard, Clint Weston, was off sick when the break-in occurred. There was a temporary replacement working at the time, but it seems he’d fallen asleep when the culprit slipped by the gate late in the evening. There’s surveillance footage, of course, so we know the time-frame for when the break-in occurred, but all we can see on the footage is a tall person in black pants and a black hoodie. Could be anyone.”
“It was James,” I said adamantly. “I don’t see how he can possibly have such a strong alibi. It had to be him!”
“He could’ve paid someone else to do it for him while he established a solid alibi for himself,” Sinclair said. “We’ve seen that happen before. So that’s what we’re looking into now. But it could take a while to prove, if we even can. I know all this bureaucracy sucks, Nora. But we have to do it by the book. That’s how the system works.”
I sighed heavily. “Right. I understand. But what about the Facebook messages? I’m still getting them every couple of days, and in the last week they’ve been getting more and more threatening. That counts as harassment, surely.”
“We hit another roadblock there. Whoever is making the new profiles and messaging you is using a virtual private network to mask their IP address.”
“Uh… what?”
“When a VPN is used, we can’t tell where the messages are being sent from, essentially,” she explained. “But we have one of our best forensic computing guys on it. He’ll crack it eventually, and we should be able to get a location. Hopefully that’ll lead us to James so we can prove it was him once and for all.”
I sighed and rubbed my temples. “I can’t believe this. He’s being so careful, all so he can get away with harassing and terrorizing an ex-girlfriend. It’s insane.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know. I’m so sorry, Nora. I wish there was more we could do. But for the time being, we have to keep investigating and waiting for results. Until then, I’d suggest you keep staying elsewhere. Can you do that?”
I nodded. “Yes, that’s not a problem. Will you call me as soon as your IT guy cracks this VPN thing?”
“Of course. The second we get a location or a name, we’ll let you know.”
“Thank you.” I gave her a tight smile.
She handed me a sheaf of papers—copies of my written statement and rejected restraining order application from a few weeks ago. I stuffed it all in my handbag and left, feeling utterly dejected and miserable. I was so happy with my life in so many ways at the moment, but there was still this one dark stain on everything. James. That stupid freaking asshole. I had no idea why he couldn’t just let me go without a fight. After all, he’d made it pretty clear with all the cheating and lying that he didn’t love me or care about me. So why the hell was he still trying to make my life miserable?
I headed to Beverly Hills as fast as I could without breaking any speed limits, desperate to put my feet up and relax with Oscar after the shitty experience I’d just had at the police precinct. Despite having the day off from filming Fourth Down, Jacob was busy this afternoon with some sort of media event for the fifth season of Code Grey, which had just finished airing on TV. He wouldn’t be home for a while yet, so it would just be me and the dog for a while.
The ongoing conflict with James ran through my mind over and over as I finally got home and trudged up the stairs. I sighed and dumped my purse on the bed before slumping down. Unfortunately I’d forgotten to zip it up properly, and everything spilled out all over the freshly-laundered duvet, including all the pamphlets and paperwork I’d received over the course of the day.
“Dammit,” I said softly, scooping it all back up into one neat pile. Something slipped out of the pile, and I frowned as I picked it up and gazed at it, wondering why it was suddenly giving me such a weird vibe. There was something wrong with this picture, so to speak. I was overcome by the strange sense that I was missing something major, missing some piece of a puzzle I wasn’t even aware of. A moment later, every hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Holy shit.
I knew exactly what was wrong.
23
Jacob
“So are you still out there playing the field, Jacob?”
A journalist called out to me from the audience, and I grinned. “Let’s just stick to questions about the show.”
She pouted, and the rest of the gathered journalists tittered. “C’mon, surely you can just put a few rumors to rest for us?”
I looked over at my Code Grey co-stars, who all simply shrugged and nodded. “All right, go on,” I said.
“Is the threesome rumor true?”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Christ, is that one still doing the rounds? No, it’s not true. The ladies in question are very nice, and I have indeed met them before, but I definitely don’t recall any sort of ménage a trois arrangement.”
She looked satisfied and scribbled something down before looking back up at me. “What about these new rumors going around about you being bisexual or gay?”
I grinned. I guess James’ date had contacted the media about me after all. “That’s not true either,” I said. “Sorry, guys.”
She made another note. “And what about the rumor that you’re sleeping with a consultant on your new movie?”
Jesus… what?
Had Nora and I not been careful enough at work over the last few weeks? Surely we had. Aside from a few sneaky glances and comments here and there during filming, we’d saved our relationship for the confines of my house in order to escape any negative attention on Nora. But obviously someone had caught on to what we were doing. Either that or these were just typical rumors that got spread on every set, and they were based on nothing at all.
I kept a straight face. “No truth to that,” I said. I cleared my throat. “I try to stay professional on the set, believe it or not,” I added with a wink.
“Okay, enough about Jacob’s many alleged women,” the Code Grey creator said with a laugh, holding her hands up. “Back to the show. Next season we’re going to be focusing on an arc between Dr. West and the new nurse, Callie. We’re also going to explore the…”
I stopped paying attention as she spoke. Something was buzzing in my pocket. After surreptitiously pulling my cell phone out and sitting it on my lap under the media conference table, I turned the screen on and frowned. I had five missed calls from Nora, three from Ina, and several texts from both of them.
Nora: I need you. Please call when you’re finished with your press conference thing.
Ina: You should get back here. I just got back from my trip. Your girlfriend is here and she isn’t very happy. She told me the situation… it’s pretty messed up. Tried calling but you aren’t answering. Get home ASAP.
I made my apologies and left the media event. It was almost finished and I’d given the journalist vultures their pound of flesh anyway, so I didn’t feel too bad.
When I was home, I raced inside and found Nora sitting on the sofa in the main living room downstairs, sipping a cup of tea as Ina spoke to her in a soothing tone.
“What’s going on?” I asked, dropping my bag and hurrying over to them. “Did James do something else? I’ll kill the bastard, swear to fucking god…”
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Ina said, giving me a tight smile. “Good luck, Nora.”
She left the room, presumably to head back out to her guesthouse. I sat down. “Baby, what happened? Did you get the restraining order?”
“No, it was denied.”
I clenched my fists. “What the fuck?”
She hurriedly explained the situation with that. Then she shook her head. “That’s not what this is about, anyway. It’s something else. Nothing to do with James.”
I frowned. “Oh. Well, what is it?” I asked, wondering what could possibly be more important than her situation with James’ ongoing harassment.
She looked at her feet for a long moment. “Remember how I had to go to the doctor today to get my STI test results and g
et the birth control sorted?”
“Shit, is there something wrong?” I asked. “Because no matter what it is, you know I can deal with it. No judgment.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. Very healthy. So healthy, in fact, that the doctor mentioned something about me being a good candidate for blood donation.”
My frown deepened with confusion. “And?”
“And that was all well and good. I’ve been meaning to donate for a while. She gave me some brochures to remind me. Anyway, she said I’m the universal donor type. O-negative.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yeah, for people who need blood. But not for me.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I saw the brochure again when I got home, and it reminded me of something.”
“What?”
“It made me remember what I saw when we went to visit my parents a few weeks ago. Remember how I was clearing the table, and I found those cards with my mom and dad’s blood types on them? Mom said they’d just donated the day before, and the doctor had given them those cards to remind them of their blood types. Mom stuffed the cards in a drawer and changed the subject right away after that.”
“Yeah, I vaguely remember that. What about it?”
“The cards said A+ and AB+.”
“Oh, shit, that’s right,” I said, comprehension finally dawning on me. I scratched my jaw. “I know I only play a doctor on a show and have no real medical training, but that seems… impossible. No child of theirs could be an O-negative, unless my recollection of high school biology fails me.”
“No, you’re right. Ina even looked it up for me to make sure, when she came in and found me practically hyperventilating. And the other day, you said my parents were talking about something in the kitchen when you walked in on them, right? Something about me almost seeing something and catching them out.”
“Yeah. Fuck. Maybe the blood type cards were the thing they were worried about you seeing, and that’s why they were freaking out when I heard them talking.”
“Exactly. That’s exactly what I thought.”
“Shit...”
She looked at me, her eyes wide. “This whole time, I could’ve been adopted or god knows what else, and they never told me. I just don’t know what the hell to say or even think.”
I nodded grimly. “Neither do I. But I know what we need to do.”
“What?”
“Face the issue head on, Nora. Go up there and see them. Maybe there’s a simple explanation. Maybe that wasn’t even your dad’s blood type. Maybe they gave him the wrong card by accident.”
She nodded weakly. “I know I have to talk to them. But… I don’t know how. I can’t do it alone.”
“You won’t be alone,” I said firmly. “You’ll have me. Go and get in the car. I’m taking you to Santa Barbara right now.”
“We can’t go there now.”
“Why not? It’s only a two hour drive. Filming doesn’t start till late tomorrow. We’ll be fine. We’ll take Oscar. He’ll love the ride. And Nora… you need to know what’s going on.”
She nodded slowly. “You’re right. Let’s go,” she said, her voice barely above a murmur.
The northwest drive was made in silence, save for the sound of Oscar panting with joy as he stuck his golden head out one of the back windows to watch the world speed by. Nora obviously wasn’t in the mood for talking, and I didn’t want to push her. There’d be plenty of time to talk later, once we knew what the fuck was going on with her family.
When we arrived, it was just after seven o’clock. Nora’s parents came outside when they heard my car in the driveway.
“Jacob, Nora. This is a big surprise,” Roy said, a wide grin breaking out on his face as he strode toward us. “We were just having dinner.”
Nora didn’t make any small talk or pull any punches. “I also had a big surprise today,” she said. “I found out you two have probably been lying to me my whole life. Unless there’s some sort of explanation as to why I have a totally different blood type to either of you?”
She looked at her parents expectantly, hands on her hips and Oscar by her side. Anne’s face immediately turned ashen, and I knew we were right before she or her husband even said a word.
“Nora…” she began. “I’m so sorry.”
24
Nora
My knees nearly buckled as my mother spoke, and Jacob held me in place.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay.”
That wasn’t true. I wasn’t okay, not at all.
“Please, can we go inside and talk about this?” Mom said, twisting her hands nervously.
I shook my head and swallowed. Hard. “No. I don’t want to talk about anything right now. Not with you. Not now.”
“Please, sweetie, let us explain.”
I was so sick of all the lies, so sick of hearing ‘let me explain’ from people. The last year of my life had been filled with deceit, and I didn’t want to stick around for one more second, especially in my current state of mind.
“No. I’m leaving. I shouldn’t have come,” I said weakly, but then my legs almost caved in completely.
“Come on,” Jacob said, holding me upright, left arm wrapped around my shoulders. “One step at a time. One word at a time. Let’s go and find out what they have to say. That’s why we’re here, remember?”
I nodded and let him guide me inside. Then I sat and stared at the blank TV, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes. “So I’m adopted, and you never told me,” I finally said once I could see that everyone had taken a seat.
Mom shook her head. “No, darling, you aren’t adopted. I gave birth to you. You’re our daughter. You’re just not…”
She trailed off. Dad took over finishing her sentence. “You’re not biologically my daughter,” he said. “But you’re still my daughter, a hundred percent. I want you to remember that.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Then let us explain,” Mom said. “Nora, do you remember when I told you about how I dated a man before I met your father? A man who wasn’t so nice?”
I nodded, and she went on.
“He was abusive. Very abusive. He would hurt me over the smallest things, and I was too scared to leave. But one day I finally snapped and called the police when he punched me in the face over his dinner not being hot enough. When the police arrived, it turned out he was already wanted. He had a warrant out for his arrest for a string of armed robberies, and he’d been hiding by using only my name on the lease so no one knew where he lived. He killed a person during one of those robberies. So he went to prison for a long time.”
She took a deep breath before continuing. “As soon as he was arrested, I knew I had to change my life. I stopped speaking to all my friends—the ones who’d gotten me involved with a man like him in the first place. I moved to another city, quickly found another job. And then I met your father. We were only together for a few weeks when I found out I was already pregnant.”
“Three and a half months pregnant, to be specific,” Dad cut in.
Mom looked at him and nodded. “I assumed he’d leave me. But he didn’t,” she said softly. “He asked me to marry him instead.”
Dad squeezed her hand. “I loved your mother, Nora, and part of loving her meant also loving and accepting her baby, even if I wasn’t the biological father. And I did. I always loved you, every bit of you, from the moment you were born. Even before you were born. You weren’t mine, but you were mine.”
I stared at them both, barely able to believe what I was hearing. All these years, they’d kept this from me. Such an enormous secret.
“So you just thought you’d never tell me who my real father was?” I said, my voice rising with each word. “You just hoped I wouldn’t find out? That’s horrible! Just because he was a criminal doesn’t mean I didn’t deserve to know he existed!”
A tear ran down Mom’s cheek, but I didn’t move to grab a
tissue from the box next to me on the coffee table.
“We thought we did the right thing. We discussed it for a long time, Nora, and we ended up going to tell your father about you while he was still in prison. He said… he said I should’ve had an abortion. Said he didn’t care or want you.”
That felt like a punch in the gut.
“We didn’t want you growing up feeling different, feeling unwanted. So we ended up deciding not to tell you. When you got older, we considered it again, and we went and tracked him down. Showed him pictures of you. He said the same thing. Didn’t want to know you. He never changed. He was in and out of prison his whole life, right up until he passed, and he never changed his mind about not wanting you.”
“He’s dead?”
“He passed away a couple of months ago,” Mom said, not meeting my eyes.
“So you never even gave me a chance to know about him before he died.”
“I’m sorry, Nora,” Mom replied, beginning to cry in earnest now. “We thought we were doing the right thing.”
“He knew how to find you,” Dad interjected. “When he was out of prison, he could’ve easily tracked you down and told you. But he didn’t.”
“Didn’t I still deserve a chance to meet him? Confront him?” I asked indignantly.
“Do you think confronting him would’ve changed anything? Do you think it would’ve made you feel any better?” Jacob said from beside me.
I whirled around to face him. “Please stay out of this, Jacob. This isn’t your business.”
I knew I was being a bitch to him—this was his business. It had become his business as soon as I told him what was going on. But right now I couldn’t worry about his feelings. I was too distraught over all my own problems. I was trapped in some sort of nightmare, trapped in a net of lies I couldn’t disentangle myself from no matter how much I squirmed and cried.
My parents were both silent now. I shook my head and abruptly stood up. “I can’t be here anymore,” I mumbled. “I need to get out.”
Mr. Wrong Page 14
