Insidious (43 page)

He was there.
Oh my God!

“Ma’am, are you friends or family?”

“I’m a
friend
.” The word stuck in my throat.

“We have no record of his family. If you have any information it would be helpful.”

I shook my head. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

As I turned to leave, my eyes were met by my own gray. It was Val. “I wanted to catch you before you left,” she said, her tone soft.

It was all too much. I closed my eyes. “Is it Mom?”

“Yes.” She reached for my arm. “It’s not bad. It’s good. She’s awake and talking. She’s even talked to the police. She remembers everything. Her story is pretty far-fetched, but they’re listening to her.”

I looked up to Travis’ dark eyes. We were both exhausted. I was worried about Brody, but I needed to see my mother. For the first time since I could remember, I wanted to see her. “I’ll go see her for a few minutes.”

Val nodded. As we walked toward the elevators, with Travis a step behind, Val whispered, “She’s even had some interesting visitors.”

I lifted my brow, silently imploring her to continue.

“That man, the one who was at my apartment looking for you? Well, I guess he knows Mom. The nurses said that at first she seemed apprehensive, but I walked by and saw them talking. It was him and another man who looked a lot like him. I guess they were all right. Mom was smiling.”

As we approached Mom’s room, Val’s pager went off. “I’m sorry. I’m needed somewhere else.”

I tried to ignore the compassion-filled glance she shot my way as she walked quickly down the corridor. I approached the room, wondering if I’d see my mother and father together. It was a thought that only two days ago would’ve seemed preposterous. I opened the door and found Marilyn alone, sitting up, and looking out the window. When she turned toward me, I saw her tear-coated cheeks.

“Mom, are you all right? What’s the matter?”

Shaking her head, she looked away.

I walked to her bed and sat on the edge. “I’ve contacted an attorney. His name is Phillips, Brody Phillips. He can help you.” I reached for her hand, praying that he could help her, that he wasn’t as ill as Parker: he couldn’t be. I reassured myself that there was no way for him to be exposed. When my mother didn’t respond, I reached for her hand. “Val told me that you spoke to the police. I know this whole thing seems absurd, but I believe your story.”

Her moist gray eyes turned back toward me as her head slowly shook. “I’ve made so many mistakes. I was young and believed the stories I heard. I thought…” Her words trailed away as her petite body shuddered.

Straightening my neck, I asked, “What? What Mother? What did you think?”

She looked down to where my hand covered hers. Turning hers palm up, she laced her fingers with mine. “I thought he would reject you or that his family would hurt you. I’ve wasted so much time. I’m so sorry. I know you hate me and you should.”

I inhaled, waiting to exhale. “Hate’s a strong word. There were times when it was probably appropriate, but not now.”

She squeezed my hand. “He knows. Your father knows.”

I nodded. “We spoke. He didn’t say that, not in so many words… but I got the feeling that he knew.”

Her chin fell to her chest. “He said that he had no idea. He never even assumed that I’d lied about you until Stewart’s funeral. I thought he was there because of you.” She shook her head as her gaze met mine. “He wasn’t. It was a coincidence. He was there because of Stewart, but then he saw me with you. You look so much like him, he knew.”

“But didn’t you say that Niccolo—”

She nodded. “He apologized to both Carlisle and me. He said that he suspected, but when I produced the birth certificate, he didn’t pursue it. He never mentioned it to Carlisle.”

I turned away, gazing around her hospital room. The sun still shone outside the window. As I scanned the small space, I noticed a suit coat draped over the corner chair. It was gray and I recognized it immediately.

“Mom, did Brody Phillips come and see you last night?”

As if pulling her from a fog of memories, she looked at me and her eyes cleared. “What? Phillips? Yes, the attorney you mentioned. He stopped by here last night. I was still pretty out of it. I’d just awakened. He said he’d come back. Why?”

I tilted my head toward the chair. “I think that’s his.” I got up and walked toward the jacket. Reaching for it, I inhaled the fresh scent of clean sheets and my chest ached.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t even see that. I’m sorry, Victoria. I’m sorry for so many things.”

I hugged the jacket as my thoughts went back to Brody. “Mom, we’ll talk more. You need your rest.” I looked toward the door and saw Travis’ broad shoulder through the small windowpane. “I think I need to go home.”

“Victoria?”

The sadness in her tone pulled me silently to her.

She reached for my hand. “You
were
supposed to be born.”

I straightened my neck as I swallowed the emotions bubbling up from the pit of my stomach. It was a direct contradiction to what I’d heard all of my life. In one sentence she was telling me that I was wanted, that I wasn’t a killer, but she was wrong. I was a killer. I’d killed my twin, Stewart, and soon Parker. I couldn’t respond. A renegade tear fell from my gray eyes as I turned toward the door.

When I stepped into the hall, I found Val standing by Travis. Both of their expressions were grim. I braced myself, unsure of what was happening. All I knew was that I didn’t think my emotions could take anything else. “What?” I asked, Brody’s jacket hanging over my arm.

Val shook her head. “I wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

Did she know about our fathers? Did she know that they were different?
“You’re sorry about what?”

Travis took a step back as Val put her arm around me and lowered her voice. “The other day, I read the name on your phone. The night you were flipping out… I may have searched your text messages. I know that Brody Phillips was Horizontal-Friend.”

“What do you mean, you’re sorry?” I gasped. “What do you mean
was
?”

“We don’t know what happened. The CDC suspects some kind of homegrown terrorism, maybe a disgruntled client. They’re checking into all the business dealings of Craven and Knowles. Vik, the reason I was called away as you came up here was because they were notifying all of the doctors that both Parker Craven and Brody Phillips are dead.”

“No,” I whimpered. Tears fell and my chin sagged to my chest as I surrendered the valiant fight I’d been battling with my emotions. It was all too much. I tried to form thoughts into sentences. “No. There’s been some mistake.”

My sister hugged me tighter. “I’m so sorry, sis. They will try to figure out what happened. The hospital is keeping it quiet, but I wanted you to know.”

Holding tight to the jacket in my arms, I nodded, unable to speak.

As Travis quietly led me back to the SUV, I lost sense of time and space. Instead of opening the back door as he used to do, he opened the passenger door. The drive from the hospital to the penthouse was a blur.

When we entered my apartment, I blindly walked to my suite. “I want to be alone,” was all I could say. I couldn’t form other words. There were none that made sense. Nothing made sense.
How could Brody get ill?
I didn’t get ill. I saw him yesterday at the hospital. He was fine… or was he? I remembered his intense warmth.

The jacket in my arms was all that I had left of my dream of a normal life: all that was left of the only man to love me for me. I unfolded the jacket, laying it upon my bed, and inhaled. Brody’s aftershave emanated from the fabric. My chest heaved at the sense of loss. I should’ve felt this way for my husband, but I hadn’t.

The reality struck: I was death, slow and insidious. I killed everything around me. That was what I’d been told since before I could remember. My mother had been right. I shouldn’t have been born. Now, karma was paying me back. Just when I had the promise of love and a normal life, it was snatched away. All Brody had ever done was love me, love me like no one else.

I hugged the suit jacket. I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. At least with Stewart I had said goodbye. Was that what I said? Oh, why the fuck had this happened to Brody? I was the one who deserved to die, not Brody. My knees gave way as I fell to the floor. Lowering my head, I hugged his jacket using it for my pillow as my tears permeated the fabric.

Instead of being soft, the garment was bumpy. Wiping my eyes, I opened the coat. As I did, the scent of clean, fresh aftershave mixed with a new scent. Candy canes and little round mints filled my thoughts. I reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a half-dozen individually wrapped peppermints.

No! Fuck no!
He couldn’t be! It couldn’t be him.

My body trembled as I jumped to my feet and ran for my door. “Travis! Travis!” I screamed, as I raced down the stairs to the main level. “Travis!” My legs barely held my weight as my eyes overflowed with tears. The salty remains flowed freely down my cheeks. “Fucking Travis, where the fuck are you?”

He and Lisa met me as I rounded the corner to the kitchen. Seizing my shoulders he held me still. Both of their eyes opened wide.

“Mrs. Harrington, what is it?” Lisa asked.

Staring only at Travis, I held out my hand and opened my fingers to reveal the peppermint candies. My voice cracked with disbelief. “Tell me. Please tell me that he wasn’t one of the…” I couldn’t say the rest: that Brody was one of the
friends
.

Travis didn’t speak; instead, he closed his eyes and nodded.

“Noooo!” I couldn’t—didn’t want—to—process; my knees gave out.

When I awoke, I was in my bed. Though the room was dark, I knew I wasn’t alone. “Travis?” I questioned.

“Victoria?” the deep voice came from the darkness.

“What happened?”

The bed shifted, and I knew he was near. As my eyes adjusted I saw his profile: his tall, muscular body against the moonlit sky.

“I had to catch your ass again.”

I rubbed my cheek against my pillow as the memories came back. My chest ached with loss.

“Lisa and I brought you up here,” he continued. “Dr. Conway came over and gave you something: a shot. You’ve been asleep for about six hours.”

The emptiness was unbearable. “Travis, how?” Sobs came from deep within me. “How did Brody…?” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. I couldn’t say the word
die
.

“I’m sorry,” he offered.

“No, you’re not!” I screamed. “You didn’t like him. I saw the way you looked at him.”

“I didn’t like him because he lied to you.”

My tears resumed, stinging my swollen eyes. “I don’t want to hear this. Why are you even in my room? Get out of my room!”

Large warm hands seized my shoulders.

“Don’t touch me. I fucking told you not to touch me ever!”

He didn’t let go; instead, Travis moved nearer as his warm breath skirted across my face. “He lied to you. I never lied to you.”

I knew that what he was saying was true. I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down I knew it. My body shuddered with the truth that was on the tip of my tongue. With Travis still holding my shoulders, I whispered, “He was Peppermint Man.”

“Peppermint Man? What do you mean?” Travis asked, puzzled, as he released me.

I sat up. Realizing that I was still wearing my blouse and panties, I pulled the sheet around my waist and tried to explain, “There were some of the
friends
—I fucking hate that goddamned term—some who I identified by scents. One of them was kind…” My shoulders shuddered as I wiped my eyes with the sheet. “…or seemed comparatively kind. I named him Peppermint Man. He was the one I was with the day Stewart died.”

“Yes.”

“That was him… Brody.”

Travis nodded.

I shook my head in disbelief. “But he never told me he was there. He led me to believe…” I couldn’t stop the pain in my chest or the tears. I hated tears. Tears were weak. I wasn’t weak. I didn’t want to be weak, but the pain was unbearable.

“Victoria?” Travis said, gently wiping my tears with his thumb. “He was one of them. He worked with the Durantes, just like others at Craven and Knowles. He’s so fucking entrenched in their shit. I’m not saying he didn’t help you. Hell, he may have even had feelings, but you’re a fucking wealthy woman. There are assholes out there who’ll say and do anything. You weren’t the one to tell him about what happened at the warehouse: he knew what you were doing. He was fucking doing it to you.”

“How Travis, how? How did he get ill?”

The bed moved as he shifted. “I don’t know. The only thing I can figure is that he went to the warehouse after we left. I can go check it in the morning and see if anyone has been there. I’ll be able to tell if anyone’s used their code. If he did… if he went to the warehouse, maybe he found the gloves and shit.”

“And
shit
? Like the crop and Parker’s fucking come when he jacked off?”
If he did, he knew I lied.

“Victoria,” Travis said. “I didn’t clean up
anything
. If he went down there and started handling things, hell, even the crop, I don’t know. He could have exposed himself to it.”

“You said I can’t trust assholes, they’ll do or say anything. You’re an asshole. Can I trust you?”

A large hand found my face and smoothed back my hair. “Have I ever claimed not to be an asshole?”

“No,” I replied, relishing the warmth of his hand as well as his honesty.

“I don’t know if you can trust me, but I can tell you, I’ve always been straight with you.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“What?” Travis asked, “When wasn’t I?”

“In the car, when I accused you of being nice.”

He leaned closer. “Oh.” His tone dropped an octave. “I wasn’t lying. I’m not nice, and I do want to fuck you.”

Oh fuck!