Liberty...And Justice for All (23 page)

“
D
amn
,
” John said, when I teetered out of the bathroom in my immoveable blue taffeta dress and impossibly high heels. “I didn’t know what a slutty mermaid dress would look like, but this beats any preconceived misconceptions that I had.”

I smiled at him weakly. “You’re sweet,” I said, “but I’m still gonna kill Catherine. I can’t breathe in this thing. Let alone walk.” The dress was strapless, and I had to wear some ridiculous push-up bra that Catherine had bought for me underneath it. In order to keep my boobs from popping out, I had to stand perfectly still. I wouldn’t be able to fidget. I wouldn’t be able to cough.

If I had to sprint, it was all over.

Keeping my boobs in place should be the least of my worries. But I was probably going to have to move it towards the top of the list, for decency’s sake.

“Babe,” John said. “Do not let yourself get out of Matthew’s sight. And don’t let Jacoby push you around. I’d love it if you brought him in here—I could give you some real moral support then.”

“Oh, I bet,” I said, “but I can’t do that. You would punch him, a lot, and then your stitches would rip open, and then we wouldn’t be able to have sex for another three weeks, and then I’d go crazy.”

That earned me a lopsided grin from him, which made my heart stop. In a good way.

I went over and kissed him on the forehead.

“Please be careful,” he said, looking up at me. “Promise me.”

“I promise you. After Vegas, this should really be a cakewalk by comparison, you know? One yuppie, self-obsessed, tantrum-inclined half-brother? I got this.”

“Go forth and get this,” John said. “But keep Matthew near you or I’m going to flip out.”

“I promise,” I called.

“I love you,” he called.

“I love you, too,” I called, and left the room, wishing desperately that I could just put my sweatpants back on and get back into bed with the man I loved.

I
went
into the Great Room. This was the one room of the house that we never spent time in; it was grand, with floor to ceiling windows and a view of the water. We spent all of our time in the family room or the kitchen—usually going from the kitchen to the family room, loaded down with snacks. The Great Room was for events and we didn’t do events.

I wondered, briefly, if I’d be spending a lot more time in this room if Catherine stayed. I was going to have to speak with her about that, I thought, teetering across the hardwood floors and trying not to get the bottom of my gown stuck on something. Events were
so
not my thing.

I tottered towards Robert, who was the one closest to me. “Well, you look stunning. Amazing what an expensive dress can do,” Robert said. I gave him a quick, stiff hug, careful to keep my boobs inside my dress. Now that he was no longer a suspect, I decided I’d let his mean comment slide. He was going to have to get used to me and I was going to have to get used to him, now. Family was for better or for worse, too.

“How was golf?” I asked, trying to be friendly.

“It was okay. Jacoby and Corey were a little…competitive, but that’s been true all weekend,” Robert was saying. “I’ve been watching you, Liberty. You’ve really managed quite well with all of us.”

“Thanks,” I said. I wanted to tell him about Jacoby and the necklace but I hesitated. I had to time everything right.

I scanned the room. Servers in black tie circulated with champagne. Therese Granger and Ian stood near the food. Therese looked tall and elegant in a lavender gown, her hair pulled back chicly in a high bun. Ian looked dashing in black-tie. Katrina, Alexandra, Marks and Catherine stood together gossiping and drinking champagne. Catherine looked stunning. She wore an immaculate black strapless gown that hugged her every curve and her hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders. Alexandra was in a deep emerald gown and Katrina was wearing a blush-colored one. They looked so beautiful it was like I was staring at the red-carpet pages of a fashion magazine.

I had to give it to Catherine. Everything looked elegant. She must have even dressed Matthew, too, because unlike the Hawaiian shirt he’d worn to my wedding, he was dressed in a sleek suit. He was talking to Corey, who was dressed similarly. Catherine really was tenacious.

I was still going to ground her for this stupid dress.

Looking around, I realized that the only one who was missing was Jacoby.

“Have you seen Jacoby, by the way?” I asked.

“Here he is,” Robert said, stiffly, as Jacoby strode into the room, resplendent in his tuxedo. Jacoby wandered over to Catherine and his sisters, probably complimenting them on their gowns and waiting to have his ego-stroked in reciprocation.

I watched him as he talked to them, laughing. The women gave nothing away, their faces frozen in smiles underneath their evening makeup.

This was my moment. I grabbed a glass of champagne from a waitress as she passed and took a big sip.

“Excuse me, everyone,” I called, my voice a little wobbly. I watched as Katrina and Alexandra looked at each other knowingly and almost imperceptibly sidled away from Jacoby. Catherine stood her ground—she probably wanted to be close to him so she could throttle him after the big announcement. Matthew and Corey looked ready to pounce, and Ian was just watching me with one eyebrow raised, probably wondering what the hell I’d come up with.

“I have an announcement to make.” I took another swig of champagne even though I’d sworn I was never drinking again. Family reunions could do that to you.

“It’s about the necklace.” I watched as Robert clenched his fists together; he was probably just as tense as I was. “I know who the thief is.”

Everyone stared at me. Jacoby’s stare was the only one I was concerned with, and it was blank.

“As you know, someone broke into my home while we were on vacation recently. They stole the necklace that Eric Kingston, my father, left for me. What I didn’t tell you all is that the thief also left a note—two notes—and now, with the help of my sisters, I’ve determined who the thief is.”

Jacoby didn’t move a muscle.

“It was Jacoby,” I announced, dramatically, and I saw Robert’s hands relax.

Jacoby gave me a filthy look. “I didn’t steal your necklace, you idiot,” he spat at me from across the room. “I already told you that.”

“That’s enough,” Corey said, coming forward and grabbing Jacoby’s hands, bringing them behind his back. “Liberty has proof. You are guilty as charged, as far as I’m concerned.” He dragged Jacoby over to me and shaking, I faced him.

“What you said to me in those notes really hurt me. I’m just as much his child as you are,” I said.

Jacoby looked at me as though I had three heads. “I didn’t say anything in any note. And I didn’t steal the stupid fucking necklace,” he said, raging, struggling against Corey.

“Please take him out of here. Just get him out of my sight for now,” I said to Corey, and I felt hot, nervous tears spill down my cheeks.

Corey wrestled him out the door while Alexandra and the others flocked to me.

“Are you okay?”

“Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine,” I said, wiping my tears away shakily. “I’m just glad that’s over with.”

They patted me and cooed over me and I watched as Matthew headed out the door, presumably to follow Corey and possibly to knock Jacoby around a little bit.

“No, really—I’m fine,” I told everyone.

Robert turned to me and smiled. “Well, I think I could use another drink after that—want to join me?” He chivalrously held out his arm.

“I’d like that,” I said, linking my arm through his. I turned back and saw Catherine, Katrina and Alexandra watching me. I gave them the thumbs up and they smiled and nodded at me.

“So, our father was a funny man,” Robert said, as he led me out into the hallway.

“He was?”

“Not funny in a humorous way—more in a strange way.” Robert looked dapper and exceedingly handsome in his tuxedo; his blue-gray eyes, so much like mine, shone in the early-evening light.

“Strange how?” I asked. I was relieved to be holding onto his strong arm; moving in this dress was a bitch.

“He had strange tastes,” he continued. “In women. Actually he had horrible taste in women, other than my mother.”

I looked at him, shocked. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. Eleanor seemed nice. My mother was nice—when she was sober. I never met the third one, Tillie, but she couldn’t have been
that
awful.”

Robert’s grip on my arm tightened ever so slightly as he took a right, away from the kitchen, towards the back stairs. I peered around. “Is Jacoby back here?” I asked, a small spark of panic forming in my chest.

“I hope not,” Robert said, and turned on me. He put his hand swiftly over my mouth and grabbed me around the waist. “This is one party that the ever-popular Jacoby is not invited to.”

I struggled but my brother was much stronger than he looked. He dragged me up the stairs, his hand firmly clamped over my mouth as I railed against his powerful grip. I tried to scream but he jerked my neck back, painfully, turning my scream into a whimper. I tried to struggle free, but between Robert’s death-grip and the five-hundred pound dress Catherine had me in, I couldn’t move.

If I got out of this alive, she was so dead.

T
here were
a lot of things in life I’d never expected. Marrying the love of my life, becoming a stepmother to the woman who’d held me captive and tortured me, discovering, at twenty-one, that I had four new siblings—these were all unexpected developments.

Then there was the fact that I was being held prisoner in the walk-in closet of my own home, my captor’s hands squarely around my face and neck. I hadn’t really expected that either.

“Asshole,” I said, spitting into the hand across my mouth. My captor just held me tighter. I was angry, but there was a deep, frozen river of fear beneath that anger.

My captor was scarier than I’d given him credit for.

John was on the level of the house below me, immobile in his bed. Even if I got the opportunity to scream, he might not hear me.

It was entirely possible that no one would hear me.

I screamed anyway. All that came out was a garbled muffle, my own hot breath and spit smearing against my face. All it earned me was a sharp knee in the back.

How far are they going to take this?
I wondered. I couldn’t believe he was fighting this hard.

It was
my
necklace, damn it.

And this was
my
house.

I seriously hoped that I wasn’t going to die in my walk-in closet. It was too undignified, and I already knew a lot about being undignified. In my travels thus far, I’d sort of cornered the market on it. I looked up at my captor and raised my eyebrows, as if to say,
really
?

All I got in response was a filthy look, my captor’s eyes glittering maniacally.

That was it. I decided to take matters into my own hands—er, mouth. I bit the bottom of the hand that was holding me. I bit it hard. Unfortunately, it was not hard enough to get my captor to scream or throw me to the side so that I could escape.

It was only enough to enrage him. My captor punched me in the face, and then my whole world went black.

The only thought I had time for was:
John, John…I’m so sorry.

Again.

I
woke
up while I was being dragged down the hallway. Robert was apparently trying to move me, maybe to take me out of the house. I shuddered inwardly but I didn’t move, didn’t let on that I was conscious again.

It would be better this way.

I watched the hallway for something useful, something I could use against him. A vase. A lamp, anything. But there was nothing I could grab, nothing to save me. If I tried to grab onto something, he would probably just hit me over the head again, and then God only knew what he was going to do with me.

I didn’t have much time to think but I managed to wonder why. Why was Robert doing this to me? Why had he stolen the necklace? Why did he hate me so much?

He lumbered towards the front stairwell. Everyone else was towards the back of the house, divided between the kitchen and the Great Room. John was at that end of the house, too. There would be no one to stop Robert from dragging me out the front door, into his car, and then taking me somewhere to de-limbify me.

No,
I thought wildly,
no fucking way. I’m not going out like this. If I survived Ray, a Mexican drug cartel, a crazy-ass stepdaughter and a bunch of thug Vegas drug dealers, I could survive my privileged, preppy brother.

I hoped.

He dragged me down the stairs, which were wood. He was not careful with me and I thudded down each step, inwardly cursing him as I thunked along. We finally reached the landing and I squinted up to see Robert looking around, breathing hard. That damn dress was heavy. He had one arm looped under my chest and he took the other and drew a gun from the waistband of his pants. He didn’t point it at me, just kept it at the ready, as he tried to drag me out of the house as quietly as possible. He opened the front door and the cool air blasted my hot sweaty, face—I would have been grateful for it but it meant that we were getting closer to Robert’s car, further from the people that I loved.

That’s when I heard some clacking coming down the hall.

“Liberty? Where the hell are you? Dinner’s about to start,” Catherine called in a rush, as she swept around the corner in her full-length, strapless black gown. I squinted at her. She looked beautiful and slightly confused as she barreled around the corner.

Robert aimed the gun at her.

“Oh no you don’t,” I croaked, struggling against him.

Catherine stuttered to a halt in front of us, breathing hard. “I’m going to scream,” she told Robert, “and I’m going to duck when you try to shoot me, and then Matthew and Corey are going to come around this corner and beat your ass.”

“Keep your mouth shut,” Robert snapped. “My sister and I were just on our way out.”