I smile, “I’m a liar Annie, you should know that.”
Chapter Seventeen
Brendan
1:11 p.m.
A knock at the door. “Brendan?” Mark’s familiar voice.
I rise up and unlock it. My eyes are bloodshot. Not that I know this. My body feels like it’s already dead. Mark and Nicole are standing there with coats over their arms, dressed in jeans and sweaters. I move to the side so they can come in. Nicole pauses as she passes me, letting me know with a look how sorry she is that this is happening. Their suitcases, small carry-ons, get stashed against a wall. They lay their coats over them, and glance at each other as they take in the tree, it’s lights dark now.
“I’ll make some food,” Nicole says quietly, glancing to me as I head for the couch. Mark walks over.
“You’re too tall to stand above me like that,” I mutter, falling into our old routine.
He gives a ghost of smile. He knows I’m just going through the motions. I clocked out hours ago. He sits on the ottoman and I wince at the memory of me and Annie just yesterday.
“Not there.”
He doesn’t ask why as he gets up and sits on the couch next to me. “Did you go to the police station?”
I nod. “Manny called. He’s alive. He’s grief stricken now. Kept saying it’s his fault. I called Taryn and Laura. Annie’s parents. Some people you don’t know who she’s met at work. All the people from my office who knew Tommy. The cops that worked on the case last time came in on their day off. It’s Christmas, you know.” I meet his eyes.
“What did they say?”
“Someone called with an anonymous tip two hours ago. Tommy’s father was discovered in his old house, tied up and beaten severely. It was Tommy, Mark. He’s on a rampage.” I stare at my best friend for answers.
His jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck clenching. “We know him…”
“We didn’t know he was a burglar for life.”
Mark talks over me. “Better than anyone. So let’s think where he could have gone.”
I put my head in my hands and rub my face. “Okay. His apartment is gone. He’s not at his old house. They searched it.”
“How about the neighborhood?” I blink yes. “What about his mom and cousin?”
“They can’t find them. I don’t know anything about his cousin. Did you ever meet the guy? I mean outside of the trial.”
Mark shakes his head. “Never. What about people at work?”
I make a noise, turning my body a little. “Our C.F.O. was having an affair with him. I already accused her of hiding him. She’s not.”
Nicole comes in with long strides and sets down two steaming cups of black coffee. She touches Marks shoulder as she leaves again. “Thanks, babe,” he says, glancing to her retreating form, his mind on the problem. “Drink up.”
Out of apathy, I obey. “You guys are doing well. I didn’t expect her to come with you.”
“She had plans with her girlfriends. We all did, but she canceled them without complaint. This is more important.”
“Thank you. I’m glad she’s here. When I get Annie back, she’ll want to see that ring.”
Mark’s lips flatten as he looks down at the cup in his hands. “What about Tammy?”
“Already knocked on her door. Some guy opened it. She walked out of the bedroom wearing his button-up shirt. Speaking of rings, he had one.” I take a sip of the bitter brew, licking my lips.
“Ah. Not much changes. Well, what about Rebecca?”
I look up at Mark, and set the coffee cup down. “Rebecca wouldn’t hide him.”
Mark blinks at the defensiveness in my voice. “Of course she wouldn’t. But has she heard from him? You know he had a thing for her.”
The tense knot in my chest grips harder and I reach for my phone. “She would have told me,” I mutter, dialing.
Mark says, “Maybe she doesn’t know he kidnapped your wife.”
“If she does know…Rebecca.”
“Brendan? I didn’t expect to hear from you, today. Is this about Tommy?”
I share a look with Mark, holding his eyes as I answer. “Yes. It is about Tommy. How’d you know that?”
She pauses. “I got a call from someone yesterday. They didn’t say anything, but when I said his name, whoever it was hung up fast.”
My heart starts to pound. “Did you call him back? Give me the number! Why didn’t you tell me this?”
Becoming defensive, she argues, “Well, we’re not talking anymore, Brendan! And I saw he escaped, on the news, but I knew he’d leave the country and be long gone. So what was the use in calling you? I mean, really, I don’t think your new wife would have been too happy to hear from me on Christmas Eve, do you?”
With my elbow on my knee and my forehead in my hand, I listen to this. “He’s got Annie. I think she would have been very happy to hear from you.”
Mark takes the phone from me. “Rebecca, this is Mark. Give me the number, please.” He grabs a pen and writes it down. “Yes, he kidnapped her last night. They didn’t know Tommy escaped. Yes, it’s horrible.” He pauses again. “No, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” He hands me the phone. “She demands to come here.”
I frown, yanking it from his hand. “You’re not coming over!”
“Brendan, I’m coming over. I can help,” she says with her usual authority.
With angry sarcasm, I ask, “How can you help?”
“Okay, look. I wasn’t a fan of having things end between us. That’s no secret. But I don’t want your wife hurt and you need to know something I’ve been keeping secret. I lied to you, Brendan. I slept with Tommy. When I said I wouldn’t see him? Well, I did.” She waits for a response and when I say nothing, continues in a softer voice. “Brendan, he might try to call me again.”
My overall distaste for her shifts, replaced by a bead of hope. “Come over. If he calls, I want to know about it. But I’m not happy you lied to me.”
“And I’m not happy you got married. We’re even. I’m on my way.” She hangs up.
I lay the phone down and Mark sticks the coffee cup back in my hand as Nicole returns with bacon, eggs and toast on a couple of plates. “She fucked Tommy,” I tell him. Meeting Nicole’s raised eyebrows, I explain. “That’s Rebecca. My ex. Sort of. She fucked Tommy and didn’t tell me. But she may be our only way to find him. She’s coming over.”
Nicole shares a look with Mark, surprised at the news. Her smooth voice has a calming effect on both of us. “If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that there are angels watching over us. I know that sounds silly or foofy, or whatever, but–”
I cut her off. “I’ll take whatever help I can get.”
Mark asks her, “Babe? Where’s yours?”
She smiles and touches his arm again, and heads back for the kitchen. “On another plate. I just couldn’t carry them all. Now eat. The eggs are getting cold.”
Out of politeness, I pick up the plate, and dig in. My body takes over, and somehow I eat it all. We eat in silence and it’s dismal. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Alright, you guys go and put your things in your old room, Mark. Go rest. You must be tired from the plane ride. I’ll get the dishes; it’ll give me something to do. No, don’t argue,” I tell Nicole.
She smiles, her caramel-colored eyes filled with compassion.
She hangs their coats as Mark picks up both suitcases and heads for the spiral staircase. Watching them walk away, I feel pain in my chest throbbing again. They’re such a good fit, both tall, both serene in their countenance. The fact that they’re different ethnicities adds a strength to them, too. Like they’re ahead of the world’s curve somehow.
But seeing them here just makes me miss my wife.
Chapter Eighteen
Annie
Why in the world would Tommy bring me here, of all places?
I squint around the cave, sunlight illuminating the entrance brightly but losing steam as it reaches toward the back of
the cavern. The gray rock walls are covered with graffiti, not the gang variety, just kids leaving their mark over many, many late nights. With a darkened fire pit as the only luxury, I’m unable to keep my mouth shut.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He throws me a hardened look. “I’m sorry. It’s just my back is killing me and it’s freezing in here. Where am I supposed to sit?” Reminding myself I’m at his mercy, I quiet. We’re up a hill near Fort Mason, an old army post that’s been closed for decades, near the Marin County side of the Golden Gate Bridge. There’s no one around for miles, and I have no idea why he would bring me here.
Tommy has proven himself to be one thing, volatile and unpredictable. He saved me from his father, yes. But he’s escaped from San Quentin and him having pulled that off is a testament to how much I need to take him seriously, no matter how little respect I have for him after the way he acted in college, and how he treated me back then. Even if I weren’t in handcuffs, I can’t kick or punch Tommy without fear of him punching me in the stomach. The times today I’ve lashed out at him and his father, were out of instinct, not smarts. I need to be more careful. I’m not just me anymore. The irony is, what’s got me acting out more is an effort to protect my child.
Tommy drops the immense duffel bag he hauled up here, and bends at the knees to open it with his eyes on me. “You’re huge. How far are you along?” He pulls out a purple comforter, a pillow with a matching pillowcase, a four pack of Smart Water, and a small cooler. “My cousin put this together. Can you tell?”
“Why would I be able to tell?” I ask, wondering if this is a test.
“He’s a little on the… stylish side.” Tommy smiles as though at some inside joke.
It occurs to me he’s talking about his cousin’s sexual preference, something I noticed but didn’t find remarkable considering we are in San Francisco. “Right. He seemed nice.” For being a part of your devil family, I refrain from adding.
Tommy folds the comforter in two. He lays the pillow on it and says, “Sit here.”
I don’t have to be told twice. I was looking at that pillow like it was a chocolate cake.
“Thank you,” I mumble, walking over to land my expanded butt down with a loud, “Ahhhh.” Glancing up at my kidnapper, I catch an amused smile. He covers it and walks away. “Can you take off these handcuffs at least?”
He cocks an eyebrow my way. “No.”
“Fine,” I mumble. He tosses one of the water bottles to me and I catch it.
“Because of that.”
“Because of what?” I ask, confused.
“Because most girls wouldn’t have caught that.”
I stare at him. “That’s very sexist.”
He shrugs. “It is what it is. You caught it, and wearing handcuffs. I’m just sayin.’”
I open the bottle with awkwardness, drawing it up my mouth with both hands. Before I can blink, it’s empty. “I guess I was thirsty,” I mumble. “How do you know about this place?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He waits for me.
I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t want to tell him. Resentfully, I answer, “I’m nine months. And my lower back is aching more now than it ever has, in case you were wondering. I need to go to a hospital.”
“Brendan, Mark, and Ross, and I used to come here with girls in college,” he announces proudly, like remembering it brings back the good old days, before he was a felon.
Great. Now I’ve got images of Brendan and Sara Brighton making out in here, in my head. “That’s good to know,” I say, dryly.
Tommy’s watching me like he knows what I’m thinking. “I never liked her.”
“Who?” He doesn’t say anything. “Sara?” He nods. “Yeah, me neither. She was a self-important bitch.”
“So he has a type,” Tommy smiles.
“Har Har. What are we doing here, Tommy? Are you going to kill me, because I’m getting the feeling you’re not. Which is new. And weird. And don’t think I’m not grateful, because I am. But what the hell is going on?”
His eyebrows rise over an amused grin. The thing Tommy always had going for him is his charm. He’s usually got a sparkle in his eyes like he’s thinking of a private joke twenty-four seven. That look is back, and for the first time today.
“We’re here because I’m trying to decide if I’m taking you as hostage with me to Canada or not.”
A piercing pain in my lower back makes me cringe. “Ow!”
Tommy’s smile falls. “You okay?”
With my heart rate picking up at the idea of being a hostage, I roll my eyes, losing my patience and knowing the only way to get home is cut through all of this and try and change his mind. “No! I’m not alright! I want to go home. I want to be with…” I quiet myself at the look in his eyes. “What’s your problem, Tommy? I mean, really? We’ve learned all about your family. Why hold up my bar? They said you rob strangers. Or burgle them. Or whatever. I mean, it came out that you guys were dripping with money, so why come after me? And why pull the trigger, when you said in court you never do that. Or were you lying?” He shakes his head slowly. “Then WHY?”
His nostrils flare and he rises to pace. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me! I’m a fairly understanding person. Fairly.” I can see his brain ticking. “What have you got to lose? No one’s coming up here unless you call them. I can’t fight you. Look at me.”
He blinks, knowing it’s true. I’m in handcuffs and while I could normally use my legs, my strongest weapon, I really can’t in my condition. I’m stuck. He’s stuck with me.
He looks around the cave and walks to faded letters on the far right side, tucked away from the light. “You see this? This is where Mark and I put our first initials. We came up here with these two chicks who had tits like you’ve got now. See over here? Here’s where the four of us guys wrote our names? This is another time, still when we were at State. See how my name’s right after Mark’s?” He turns to me. “Right up until the end of college, it was me and Mark, then Brendan and Ross came after. When Sara dumped Brendan, that all changed. Suddenly I was out.”
With the empty water bottle held tightly in my hands, I try to understand. But I can’t. “This is all because you’re in love with Mark?”
Bad move.
Tommy explodes, gesturing with his hands and walking toward me. “I’m not in love with Mark! I was a part of a group. There was a hierarchy. I was here!” He holds his hand up high, palm down and flat. “And then your fuckhead husband came along and took my place. Acted like I was nothing! Suddenly I was on the outside. They moved in together and if I didn’t come over, I’d never hear from them! It was all because of Brendan. He hated me and I never gave him reason to! He always treated me like I was shit. I’m not nothing! Do you know what that feels like? To be treated like you’re a fucking insect? A nuisance? Every time you walk into a room, you feel eyes on you filled with distaste, disgust, or even worse…apathy?”
Staring up at him, the ice that has always been on my heart with Tommy, begins to melt. “I know exactly what that’s like,” I quietly tell him.
Sideswiped, he blinks. As he stares at me, recognition lights up his eyes at the memory of who I was in college, a girl dressed in all black hiding in the shadows because she was too shy to say she wanted to be a part of the world. Tommy knows I know what he feels like, because he’s one of those who made me feel like nothing, back then. Brendan, too, and he knows it. Both of them do.
Smoothing out his sweater for something to do, he turns and mumbles, “Right. Right. So you know.”
I don’t bother to tell him that those feelings don’t give him license to do the things he did. That Brendan probably sensed he was hiding something, his double life, and that’s why Brendan hated him. Brendan hates liars more than anything. I don’t bother to tell him that Mark can choose who he wants to for his friends, and that’s not Brendan’s fault.
I don’t tell him these things, because I can see
he’s breaking. I’m hoping he’ll do the right thing, if I can just keep my mouth shut; not an easy task.
He stares at the ash-filled fire pit, kneeling in front of it like there’s a warm blaze between us. How I wish there were.
“Bruce had been in contact with my dad, keeping an eye on him after my Uncle Paul disappeared, maybe with my mother.” He smirks as if just having thought of this. “Dad had been building up to this for some time, apparently, and he was dumb enough–which makes you lucky–to tell Bruce his plan. He was going to kill you. And he didn’t give a shit about the baby.” Tommy meets my eyes with a look so serious I shiver. I’d thought as much, but hearing it said out loud, that’s a whole other feeling.
“Why are you telling me this?”
He drops his gaze back to the fire pit. “Our family has never been killers. We’re thieves. That’s all. When I saw you and Brendan that night in your bar, I wasn’t in my right mind. Time had built up the pressure in here,” he touches the side of his head, “and I just lost it. But anybody is capable of losing it, Annie. Even you.” He reaches for a water bottle and opens it, holding it like it’s a beer with his index finger hooked around the spout as he takes a swig. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, he says, “My dad lost it when I testified and when my mom left. And he–like me back then–needed to have someone to point the finger at, and that was you. But it could have been anyone, so he didn’t have to look at his own life. Also like me.”
My eyebrows twitch upward. “That’s pretty profound awareness.”
Tommy glances away on a wry smile. “I had a lot of time to think.”
“How did your cousin tell you about your dad? Weren’t guards listening?”
Tommy makes a sound, his mind a million miles away. “He had a friend give me the details. Someone I can’t name since I owe them my freedom and you owe them your life.”
Stammering, I argue, “I wasn’t going to ask their name.”
It’s like he doesn’t hear me, though. “You just never know when a friend is going to come through for you, do you? Bruce has good friends.” His eyes rise to look at me again. “I tried to warn you.”
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