To Betray A Brother (14 page)

"I know a place where the High Tea is to die for," Penny said quickly.

"High Tea sounds nice. What did you want to talk about?"

"I think you know, Mrs. Huntington. I want to talk about Bryce. I think I have made a terrible mistake." The butterflies stilled as if waiting for the reply. "I’m hoping you will be kind enough to share your time with me and any answers you might have."

The phone stayed silent for several moments. In the silence, Penny heard the beating of own heart.

"Okay dear. If you think it will help. Let me know where and when, and I will be there,” Mrs. Huntington finally said.

"Thank you so much. I will let you know,” Penny gushed.

Penny put her phone on the table and sat back. Her lungs emptied in one breath.

* * * *

Two settings were meticulously placed on the table. A silver cake stand, a relic from a bygone era, sat at the table’s centre. Intricately engraved vines wound their way up the stem of the stand blossoming into flowers to form the handle atop the stand. Smaller vines grew from the stand, winding outward to form the trays where plates to hold the cakes and sandwiches sat. She looked around the Duchesse De Gramont Tea Room, her eyes drinking in the old world quality. A three-tiered crystal chandelier reflected shards of light about the room and cast faint shadows across the ceiling. Mrs. Huntington entered, moving with refined grace as she crossed to the table.

Penny stood and held out a chair for her. "I'm so glad you were able to come, Mrs. Huntington."

Quiet wrapped around them as Penny poured a tea for them both. Mrs. Huntington nodded her thanks and took a scone, splitting it with a practiced ease she spread a generous layer of jam and cream. Steel blue eyes bore into Penny’s as Mrs Huntington sipped her tea.

"Now, dear, what do you have to say about my son that is so important after dismissing him in such a callous manner?"

Penny was instantly transported back to a time in school of being dressed down by the headmistress. She fidgeted, looking down at her hands. Mrs. Huntington waited silently. Her tea cup clinked on the fine bone saucer.

She looked into Mrs. Huntington's eyes. "I think I have made a terrible mistake."

"You do, do you? Please tell me what brings you to
that
particular conclusion."

Penny cringed under the tone, her stomach tightened. "I don't know who, somebody sent me a series of newspaper clippings." She reached into her handbag. "Here."

Bryce’s mother looked at the proffered papers, making no move to take them. Instead, she sipped serenely on her tea, nodding for Penny to continue.

Penny swallowed hard. "The clippings arrived anonymously in manila envelopes. After seeing the first one, I put them aside. They sat untouched for several weeks before curiosity got the better of me.” She hung her head, letting the curtain of her hair hide her shame. “I opened them the other day. Only yesterday did I begin to make a connection. Well, I think I began to make some sense out of what they were saying."

Mrs. Huntington smiled. "Go on dear."

"All of the articles are about police raids, mostly on outlaw motorcycle clubs."

"You really ought to try one of these scones. They are delightful.” She reached for a second.

Penny pushed on. "While I didn't keep a dairy, the dates of the raids seem to coincide with the times Bryce went away."

Mrs. Huntington put her cup down and looked directly at Penny. Her unflinching eyes bore directly into Penny’s heart, searching for something.

Penny squirmed under the scrutiny and sat on her hands lest Mrs, Huntington saw how her hands trembled as the butterflies flitted up and down her insides.

She leaned forward, her voice soft. "Mrs. Huntington, is Bryce some kind of federal agent?" There she had asked it. Her breath released as her muscles relaxed. She kept her hands beneath her thighs. They trembled still.

For a long time Mrs. Huntington sat and made no attempt at conversation. She sipped her tea, steel blue eyes watching Penny. Penny returned her gaze.

"We nearly lost him you know. On his first mission Bryce was badly wounded. Do you know what he was doing at the time?"

Penny shook her nodded.

Mrs. Huntington swallowed as she spoke. "He rescued five soldiers who had been wounded by a surprise enemy attack. A sniper’s bullet hit him in the ribs as he dragged one of them to safety. Even after being wounded, he dragged another two men to safety. He risked his life that day to save the lives of men he counted as friends. There is no greater sacrifice one can ask." Her eyes glazed over as she spoke. The pain evident in her eyes a she recalled the agony of not knowing if her son would live or die.

Penny chose to remain quiet.

"He returned home. Even though he was young and strong, it took some time for him to heal. Even still, before I knew it Bryce returned overseas. To all accounts he had a couple of uneventful tours." She paused and sipped her tea. "On the last tour, they were searching cars at a checkpoint when a bomb exploded. Several of his platoon were killed, and Bryce was severely wounded. Shrapnel tore part of his leg away. They evacuated him to Australia, and he never returned. Not long after he finished his rehabilitation, he left the Army and came home." Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke.

"One day some men came calling. Bryce went off with them." Mrs. Huntington sipped her tea, hanging onto her cup. "You ask me if he is a government agent. Truthfully, he never tells me what he does. He says he is protecting me. I am certain he still risks his life so we can be safe as we go about ours. A mother knows these things.” The cup rattled against the saucer as her shaking hand placed it back onto the table.

Penny took the elderly woman's hand in hers. Mrs. Huntington continued. "I only tell you this because I honestly believe you are good for him. I had never seen him as relaxed and happy as when you two were together. It is my hope you will be able to give him a second chance. Otherwise I fear his superiors will be knocking on my door in the middle of the night."

The two women sat not speaking for a long time, Mrs. Huntington's hands clasped between hers as they comforted each other.

Lightning split the sky, lighting a path through the pouring rain as Penny parked on the side of the road. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel and stared through the windscreen into the pounding rain. "It’s now or never."

She checked for traffic and pulled back onto the road. Almost immediately she signalled and turned down the familiar driveway. Wet gravel crunched beneath the tires. A single light shone through the window of the house as she drove past, down to the barn.

No light shone through the barn windows as she stopped outside. "I wonder if he’s even home." Her hands slipped from the steering wheel, landing in her lap. She wiped her palms across the leg of her jeans, leaving behind damp hand prints. Penny touched the kill switch and reached for the door handle. Her hand trembled, and her stomach jittered as she pulled the latch.

She raced from the car to the barn and rapped on the door. Nothing. She knocked on the door again, harder this time. Still no answer. Penny fumbled with her keys. Soaked through now, the rain ran into her eyes. They stung as she struggled to fit the key into the lock. Finally the key slid home. She twisted it, and the door fell open as she stepped through and pushed the door closed behind her.

Puddles formed on the concrete floor as wet clothes clung to her skin. Blinded by the water streaming from her hair into her eyes, she stopped. After a moment she wiped her eyes clear. Then she saw the glow of a lamp in the middle of the workshop. A small area in the centre was lit. Bryce bent over what looked like an engine, engrossed in something requiring a great deal of concentration. She paused and took several deep breaths in a vain effort to regain control as she made a feeble attempt to the wring excess water from her clothes. Water splashed onto the floor. Without thinking she took several steps forward.

"Bryce?" Her voice quavered.

Bryce looked up as he turned. His eyes hardened as he registered her standing, soaking wet in the middle of his workshop. He put down the tools, and slid his work gloves from his hands, and tossed them onto the table. Picked up a rag, he wiped his hands. "You picked a hell of a night to come around and get your gear."

Penny's lips moved. Nothing came out.

"That is why you are here?" His was tone neutral, neither challenging nor questioning.

Penny took several paces forward on trembling legs. "Can we talk?"

"Sorry?" Anger crept into his voice. "You refuse to give me the chance to talk when all I wanted to do is thank you and explain how I ended up accused of murder and in jail.” His eyes flashed as he spoke. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles showing white before he unrolled his fingers.

"Bryce." Penny ran her fingers through her hair. Her chest contracted. "I...I think I have made a terrible mistake." Her voice rose just above a whisper as she spoke.

"Really?" His volume increased and became caustic. "And what might your awful mistake be? Not getting your stuff out before I got out of the lock up? Or perhaps coming to pick me up?"

"No, Bryce, no, not that. None of it." She shivered. "My mistake….My mistake, was much worse." Her chest convulsed as she fought back the tears.

Bryce's eyes bore into her, while the water from her drenched clothes ran down her legs and pooled at her feet. He tossed the rag onto the bench and nodded toward the stairs. She followed, her legs leaden and sluggish as she walked. At the top, Penny stepped off the stairs and looked around. Nothing had changed. Why would it?

"Here."

She caught the towel Bryce tossed to her.

Penny stammered. "Thanks."

Bryce moved into the kitchen and filled the kettle. "Coffee?" He didn't wait for her answer as he placed two mugs on the counter and spooned instant coffee into them. He added sugar and milk while they waited for the kettle to boil.

"Okay then, tell me what
was
your great mistake?"

Penny didn’t miss the sarcasm lacing his words. She shivered, wrapped in the towel as she sat at the table. She placed her hands on top of the table. They gave her away. If she had been holding a cup of milk the contents would churn to butter in moments. She clenched them together, too late. Bryce looked pointedly at them as he placed the coffee on the table before her. Unspeaking, he took the chair opposite.

The silence lay taunt and heavy between them. Penny's stomach flipped over. "Bryce, can I start by asking you to let me work through this in my own way?" He nodded in assent. “Did you have anything to do with the newspaper clippings sent to me?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. I know nothing about any newspaper clippings."

Penny gulped and continued. “I know this will sound strange, but do you have another job? One I know nothing about, maybe?"

He sat back in his chair, his brow furrowed. "I'm not sure what you mean."

She reached into her handbag, pulled out a damp manila envelope and dumped the contents onto the table. Spreading the clipping out, she pushed them across the table to him. "They are news stories about police raids. Raids mostly conducted around bikie clubs and weapons trafficking."

He crossed his arms. "Your point?" His voice deepened and hardened as he spoke.

The vein in her temple pulsed in time with her heart. She rubbed the spot. "They go back about six months and seem to coincide with your trips away on
Club Business
." Nothing. His eyes were flat. Nothing there, no emotion at all, least of all the ones she expected, anger or perhaps even hatred.

“You were away for a couple of days when somebody murdered Justin. You had no alibi, which is why you needed me to provide one for you." More confident now she sat back and took up her coffee cup. Slowly, her eyes never leaving Bryce, she took a long mouthful. The liquid warmed her throat, settling in her stomach. The sensation bolstered her commitment to see this through, no matter what the outcome.

His eyes closed as he sighed, his shoulders dropped. He looked up. "I'm unsure what you are looking for here, Penny. I wanted to talk, share with you when you picked me up from jail. Instead you shunned every attempt at contact."

His voice sounded tired in her ears. For the first time ever she saw a man on the verge of defeat. "I don't know who sent those clippings to you. I wish I did."

The sound of the rain on the barn roof filled the silence between them.

Bryce swallowed his coffee. As the mug hit the table he continued. "Tell me, did you work out your little conclusion by yourself? Or did you enlist some help?"

She smiled. "I may have had a little help."

He closed his eyes, only for a moment, as the corners of his mouth turned up. "It figures. Probably my mum if I know her." He looked directly at her. "Penny, in all the years we have known each other, have you known me to lie?”

She shook her head.

“That’s something at least. Then you need to believe me when I say there are some things you are better off not knowing.”

“Your Mum said you told her the same thing. It was for her own safety.”

He took mouthful of coffee. “I can only tell you the same thing.”

Penny nodded. She wanted to take Bryce's hand in hers and comfort him. The distance, the invisible wall between them stopped her. She took another mouthful of coffee. "None of what you have told me explains why you chose to keep a secret from me. Didn’t you trust me?" She placed the coffee cup on the table, sat back, and folded her arms. Water dripped from her sleeves onto the floor. She shivered and pulled the now soaked towel closer.

Bryce stood and tossed her another. Penny dropped the wet towel to the floor and snuggled into the dry one.

Bryce continued his voice so soft Penny strained to hear him. "By not sharing everything with you, I could keep you safe. You not knowing everything is for your own good."

Her face screwed up. "How could that possibly be
for my own good
?"

“I’m not sure, but I suspect the Descendants are the ones who ordered the hit on Justin. I can’t prove it, but too many things point in that direction. The truth of it is nobody can force you to tell them something you don't know. You have to trust me, Penny. These people, the people I deal with, will go to any lengths to get information they can use to their advantage."

"So," she stretched the word. "What you are saying is by not telling me about your double life, you were keeping both of us safe. Do I understand you correctly?" He nodded. Penny pulled the towel tighter around her. "You know what? I don't know if I should be angry about you lying to me or grateful you were innocent and trying to protect me."

She pushed herself away from the table. "Truth be known, I'm royally pissed about the deception. I do understand. I understand my mistake was I didn’t trust you, and I had no real reason not to. I am truly sorry."

Bryce stood and moved into the kitchen. "Tell
you
what, grab a shower and get some dry clothes on, I'll organize some dinner. I don't know about you, I'm starving. It’s clear we have a lot more to talk about." A smile creased his face and ran up to his eyes. The shine had returned to them.

Penny headed toward the shower. She stopped and turned. “Bryce there is one other thing.”

“Yes?”

“While we are at it, I need to get this off my chest. I’ve been angry at you for a long time. I’d almost put it behind me until you came back. I want, no need, an explanation as to why you left me stranded on the biggest night of a teenage girl’s life. You disappear without a word to anybody and then my brother, who clearly know where you are, follows you into whatever godforsaken hell hole you’re in and comes out the back end a broken man.”

She paused, gauging his reaction. He said nothing, his silence goading her to make one last strike. “Maybe, just maybe, that is why I’ve struggled to trust you.” She turned on her heels without waiting for a response and headed to the shower.