23. Liam
Asmoke ring hangs above my father’s head, and I watch it swirling higher. My “stunt” at the nightclub hasn’t gone unnoticed, though he hasn’t said much other than that my acts were “unjustifiable” and he had to “mop the floor” after me yet again. I think he knows I’m not in the mood to fuck with his lecturing. He sees me becoming the badass criminal he’s trained me to be, and I’m getting better at it. Just takes more focus and less chasing tail—his famous words.
“And Detective Kraus is watching for information?” He sucks on the fat stogie and reclines on his chaise, his hip acting up again. He does this every time he goes golfing, so that’s how it had to have happened. He’s not a spring chicken anymore, and it reminds me that my time is coming. Probably sooner than I’d like it to.
“Yeah, he’s looking into it.” I have the good ol’ detective chasing every lead possible to find out who is stalking Elena. He’s vetting every member of the cast and crew, and since Dad and I are owners now, that information is accessible to us completely. I’ve given Krause autonomy over this and granted him freedom to search the theater’s records.
“He’ll find them then. You should just relax. You’ve done enough already.”
His words aren’t permission to be myself and live carefree. They are laced with sardonic intentions. He has little interest in helping me with my mission to find the person responsible for stalking Elena. There’s nothing in it for him. Or at least that’s what he thinks. I know myself, and I’m stronger with her. He just doesn’t see that yet.
I sip the glass of Brandy offered to me by his maid when I first arrived and think of how this might all play out. My gut tells me this is an inside job. I have a niggling suspicion the stalker is close to Elena—that bimbo of a co-star or the arrogant brute who hovers around her like a fly on shit. Maybe the director himself, but more likely the brute.
If I had facts to put to those suspicions—evidence that irrefutably proves it’s him—I’d march right down to that theater and tear him limb from limb with my bare hands. He’s the one who started turning Elena against me to begin with, so even if this turns out to be completely unrelated to his hatred and animosity toward me and my association with Elena, he may still get the cement boots.
“You have suspicions?” Dad asks as another puff of smoke goes ceiling bound. He turns his head to look at me, and his body tenses. I’ll be glad if I make it to fifty without lower back issues. He looks miserable. He’s probably spent thousands of dollars on chiropractors and medical massage therapists.
“I do.” Finishing my glass of Brandy, I nod and enjoy the burn as it goes down. Then I set the glass on the coffee table between us and cross one leg over the other and stretch my arms along the back of the plush gray Victorian sofa. “This person is close to her. Someone at the theater is my guess. A few of the letters she let me look at weren’t addressed, just her name on the front. Whoever it is isn’t very smart.”
“Ah… so in addition to your little snitch problem, you’re playing detective for the girl.” He sounds cocky, as if he’s trying to prove he is right and I’ve been wrong. I’m not very good at learning lessons, but once I’ve learned them, I never forget.
“I think my snitch and the stalker are one and the same, and I’m hoping Kraus can help me prove this.” I’m antsy, ready to have the answer so I can exact my revenge, but I’m learning to be patient and wait for due course. Leaping before I look doesn’t work anymore. It’s messy and it leaves too many clues, too much evidence. I have to bide my time and do things correctly now. There’s too much at stake.
A moment of silence passes, and I lace my fingers together behind my head. When I do have the proof that it is who I think it is, I’ll probably need someone to restrain me—keep me locked up at home until the initial rage passes. If not, I know my impulsiveness will get me in trouble. I’ll do something rash without thoughtfully planning and my lawyers will have to get me out of trouble. Maybe I need to call Slick to make sure he’s with me when I get the call.
“You know, Son, I’ve never seen you quite so serious or dedicated to something in your whole life. You never even had patience to play video games or finish books. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the game or the story. It was your attention span. You can’t sit still.” As he talks, he waves his hand in the air, cigar pinched between his fingers. It leaves a trail of smoke that spins and wafts upward.
“Your mother used to tell me you had ADD or something worse, that you needed medication for it. I told her to whip you into shape and whip you she did, but it never made you focus more.” The cigar goes to his lips, and the cherry burns hotter and brighter as he sucks on it. Then the steady stream of smoke returns and he coughs a few times, puffing smoke out as he does.
“If for no other reason than to show you how to stay connected with a goal and working toward something that you want, this woman has been good for you.” If that was a compliment, I’ll take it. He’s not well versed in the habit of giving those out. I can’t remember a time in my life where he offered praise of any kind to me. The best I can ever hope for is when he holds his criticism back.
“When I want something, I get it.” My tone is cold and hard.
“A noble trait to have, I assure you. I’m trying to teach you to have what you want without jeopardizing your future.” He reaches to the ashtray situated at his side of the table just within reach and rolls the cigar along the rim. The ash falls from it and he sets the burning cigar down. “If you learn to maneuver quietly, you won’t have to depend on the loyalty of others to keep yourself in the clear.”
I absorb his words with intent, allowing them to settle deep within my heart. For once, it”s not a scolding or lecture, but rather a genuine conversation between father and son. I can feel myself earning his respect and slowly being seen as his equal, rather than the unruly youth he once saw me as. While I may not be prepared to take over this organization, I”m ready to claim my rightful place within it.
Feeling antsy, I stand from my chair and stretch my arms above my head, cracking my knuckles in the process. The anxiety builds within me, like a caged animal yearning for freedom. My mind reels with the need for information, almost tempting me to grab my phone and call Kraus for any updates on our current situation. I resist the urge and instead opt to pace around the room, running through different scenarios in my head. My father watches me with interest, observing my restlessness with a knowing look in his eyes.
When my phone rings, I rush to pull it out of my pocket, fully expecting the detective’s caller ID to show up on my screen. I’ve been waiting for long enough, and for as much as I pay the idiot, he sure takes his damn good time getting back to me. But it’s not Kraus. It’s her.
”Elena?” I say, my eyes wide with surprise. I hold the phone to my ear and listen to the sound of her panting. Something must have gone drastically wrong if she”s calling me. The last time we spoke, she insisted she needed space—had me chased out of the theater a few times, too. Gutsy and bold, just the way I like her.
My restlessness fades away, replaced by a wave of adrenaline as I sit back down on the couch, crossing my legs and focusing all of my attention on the call. She sounds urgent, her voice barely above a whisper.
”I need you,” she says, and there”s a tremor in her voice that tells me this isn”t business. I’m ready to pound instantly. Whatever is making her fear, I’m going to destroy it.
”What happened?” She sounds terrified, and I need to know why. “Are you okay?” I ignore the way Dad coughs and spurts out more smoke, and I plug one ear to hear her better.
”I”m fine,” she says, her voice quavering, ”but someone tried to poison me.”
I feel my heart explode. Poison? My Elena? No way. No one fucks with me. No one fucks with my property. ”Who would dare?” I ask, not even bothering to try to remain calm. ”Where are you now?” I’ll go to her. I’ll find the person who did this and I’ll slit their throat. If it was Warren, he’ll wish to God he had never been born.
”I”m at the hospital,” she whispers. “We’re all in the waiting room. Rehearsal is canceled, and we’re waiting to see what happens. Liam. I’m so scared. They think it was an accidental mix-up or something, but...” She trails off, clearly not convinced.
”It”s no accident,” I growl, my mind already racing with possibilities.
“I know it’s not. I tried telling them. Trixie would never harm herself like this. It was the stalker. Liam, you have to come here.” Elena sounds like she’s on the verge of tears, and I feel like exploding on whoever brought them on.
“What hospital?” I ask, already moving toward the door, but I pause with my hand on the doorknob.
“Bellevue.” I already hear the relief in her voice. I like that. I’m the one she calls when she needs something. That means she’s not done with me and I don’t have to think horrible thoughts about how to get rid of her.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I turn to my father as I swipe to end the call, and he is staring at the ceiling. “Dad, I have to go.”
“Well, you’ve gotten this far. You may as well finish the job. If she’s the girl you want, go get her, but make sure she’s worth the hassle.” At his words, I pull the door open, but he continues, saying, “Don’t make any messes you’re not willing to clean up.”
And then I’m racing down the hallway. Slick, standing by the front door, sees me coming and opens the door. I’m already dialing Kraus’s number as I run.
“What is it?” Slick asks, and I’m too winded to say much. He knows enough to just go with whatever I say.
“Bellevue, now,” I bark, then I hold the phone to my ear as I run down the steps out front and climb into the passenger seat of the car as Slick rounds the front and gets in.
Kraus doesn’t pick up, even when I call four times in a row. So I leave him a voicemail telling him to get to the hospital immediately. If Elena is correct and the whole cast is there, then there’s a chance of proving it’s that sick bastard Warren. He follows her everywhere, and now he’s gone too far.
“Drive, Slick! Fuck’s sake.”
Elena could be next…