Chapter 21
Bess
With Ken in surgery to repair the damage the bullet did to his leg, there is no time like the present, but I didn’t realize how hard it would be to get the words out.
After burying my secrets for two decades, it’s as if my mouth won’t wrap around the truth.
I’m a liar. Even if it was lying by omission for the most part, I was purposely deceitful to people I deeply care about.
The two I love deepest are watching me, waiting for me to expose the darkest and some of the most painful experiences of my life. Their eyes are kind and patient, but I’m not sure how long they will be.
Unsure where to start, I force my memory back to the beginning.
“I was eighteen. Still living at home with Mom, who was very strict when I was eager to explore the world. She wanted to protect me from the kind of world my brother had joined. At the time, being so sheltered, it seemed like he led an exciting, maybe even adventurous life.”
Our argument that day was the same one we’d had several times before.
I’d wanted to go see Ken, but Mom forbade me.
Every other time it would end with me conceding to my mother’s will, and I’d stay home, restricted to the occasional phone call with him.
But this time, I left anyway, my mother in the doorway behind me, pleading for me to stay, as I grabbed the keys to the old klunker I’d worked so hard to buy.
Independence lured and became harder to resist by the day.
I had my first taste when I brought home the first paycheck from my after-school job at a well-known Seattle coffee shop.
Then came the rusty Dodge Neon I was able to buy off Mr. Wainfleet down the street for fifteen hundred, hard-earned dollars.
But now I was ready to push my boundaries further, expand my horizons, and I was going to start by visiting my brother in the apartment he’d been boasting about in our calls.
I was willfully ignorant, intent on seeing my brother as some kind of modern day Robin Hood, instead of the hardened criminal he had become.
I missed him. Missed bickering over the last piece of bacon at breakfast, missed his cheeky wink as he managed to con Mom into letting us do something she’d initially refused us.
I even missed his loud music blasting through the house, making it impossible for me to listen to mine.
But my brother wasn’t home. His friend was. I’d only met him once before; Ken had taken me for pizza one night when Mom was working late, and his friend had shown up halfway through our dinner.
Joon Lee was very good-looking, and was clearly used to getting what he wanted. But I didn’t enjoy when his attention landed on me. I remember thinking at the time he had a predatory look in his eyes.
I saw that look again the moment he opened my brother’s door.
Despite my innocence at the time, I knew I was in trouble, even before his hand shot out and I was yanked into the apartment.
No amount of yelling, screaming, clawing, or fighting seemed to deter him from doing what he had set his mind to do. There were no neighbors who came to my aid. No one heard me, or if they did, they willingly ignored my screams.
I went somewhere else, disconnected from my body, and locked myself inside my head where I was in control.
The first thing I remember after was my brother leaning over me.
“Come on, Bess, I need you to get dressed and get out of here. Please, hurry.”
My body was shaking so hard I had trouble covering myself up so Ken was forced to help me. I remember him walking me out to my car, telling me to drive straight home, and not talk to anyone.
“Tell me he killed that fucker,” Hugo snarls, snapping me back to the present as he jumps to his feet.
I catch sight of the anguish on Savvy’s face and the rage on Hugo’s. They had not interrupted me once, until now.
“I didn’t know at the time,” I convey. “I never saw him again. Not at the apartment that night, or any time after.”
Savvy grabs on to Hugo’s sleeve and urges him to sit back down.
“How did you get home?” she gently asks me.
“Ken ended up having to drive me in my car. I remember Mom wasn’t home and I went straight upstairs. He ran a bath for me, took care of my clothes, and then left before she came home.”
“And no one ever approached you about him?”
“No. I mostly stayed close to home after that, and rarely went out by myself.”
“You never even told your mom what happened?” she probes.
I shake my head. “No. She never knew.”
I didn’t see the point. What was done, was done, and all it would’ve accomplished was to upset her.
She’d tried so hard to keep me safe, I’d rather she think she succeeded.
There’d been one point I was tempted. Mom had been in the ICU battling sepsis after what should’ve been a routine gall bladder surgery, and things were not looking good.
She told me if there was anything I wanted to tell her, to do it then.
She died eight hours later, knowing nothing more than she’d kept her little girl safe, and I’m glad for it.
“Did you at least see a doctor?” Hugo suddenly asks.
“No. Not until a few years later when I was in college and was having some symptoms I thought might be related, but that turned out to be cancer.”
“Cancer?”
The outburst comes from both of them.
Oh, God. I’m making a mess of this.
“Endometrial cancer, but that was eighteen years ago. I’m fine now. I’m so sorry,” I add, apologizing for yet another little part of myself I haven’t let them in on.
I’m oh for two at the moment, and I haven’t even gotten to the most egregious of my lies, or omissions. It’ll only increase the divide I can already feel growing. Something Savvy’s next comment only confirms.
“Jesus, Bess. Is there anything else we need to brace for?”
“Yes,” I answer her honestly. “One more thing, probably the most important thing you need to know.”
Hugo surges to his feet and turns to the window, his arms crossed in front of him and his back to me. The body language couldn’t be clearer if he’d hung a sign around his neck. But I started this, and I need to see it through. It’s the right thing to do, even if it comes two decades too late.
“When Ken was arrested, one of his charges was for a violent home invasion. I didn’t find out until he already had a trial date that home invasion took place on the same day he found me in his apartment.”
I lean forward with my elbows on my knees.
“My brother was with me, looking after me at the time those people were assaulted and robbed in their own home. He’d refused to speak to me, but I’d been ready to speak up on his behalf, and was shocked when he pled guilty to all charges.”
“Are you saying he pled guilty for something he didn’t do?” Savvy wants clarified.
“Yes. And when I asked him why, he told me he was better off in jail, and that if I were ever to speak a word to anyone about where he really was that night, I would get him killed.”
“Because he found Joon raping you and killed him,” Hugo states, his voice oddly level.
“Yes, but I swear I didn’t know until then. I never asked what happened to him and we never talked about that night. Maybe some part of me suspected, I’m not really sure what I thought at the time, but that was the first time he told me straight up he’d killed him.”
With the worst of it out in the open, I’m surprised to find Savvy still sitting in front of me, instead of turning her back like Hugo did.
“I’ve kept silent for twenty years, but I can’t do it anymore. Not when people I care about could get hurt in the process.”
“It’s a little late for that.”
My eyes dart to Hugo, who is staring at me over his shoulder with regret all over his face. I feel my heart sink to the pit of my stomach, and am at a loss for words.
Hugo makes it clear none are wanted when he rips his eyes from mine and turns on his heel, heading for the exit.
“I’m so sorry,” I finally manage to whisper to his retreating back.
I get to my feet and prepare to go after him, when Dana walks into the waiting area.
“Your brother is awake.”
Hugo
“Give me a fucking name, you piece of shit!”
Frustrated, I slam my fist down on the rickety table in front of him. Rather that than plant it in his face, which is what I really wanted to do.
The driver is nothing but a spindly kid, no older than late teens, early twenties, but with seasoned, flinty eyes that constantly dart around the small room, constantly gauging and assessing his options.
The trouble with these gang kids is their fear for retaliation from their gang is greater than their concern about anything law enforcement can do to them.
We’ve been working on him for a few hours now, and the kid won’t confirm who gave them the order.
He’s not talking at all, just staring back with those almost mocking eyes.
It just got to me.
“Easy,” Althof warns in a low voice behind me. “Let’s take a break.”
He shoves me out of the door, and I immediately head to the restroom to splash some water on my face.
When I got here, Mancuso was taking a break from interviewing the punk and Rick was about to head in. I volunteered to join him, eager to get to the bottom of this mess.
I would’ve rather talked to Ken Choi, who seems to be at the center of all of this, but it would probably be a while before we’d be able to interview him. Besides, I needed to get out of there, get some air.
I ended up walking here from the hospital. I needed the half hour it took me to tamp down the rage burning through me.
Anger at a man who unfortunately has already been dead over twenty years, otherwise it would’ve been my pleasure to rip his fucking limbs from his body and beat him to death with them.
Anger at a brother who, in his attempt to protect his sister, burdened her to a life shackled to a lie she had no choice but to perpetuate.
And yes, anger at Bess for not letting me share that burden with her.
But what really burns me hard is first discovering she’d been raped.
There are things I would’ve done differently had I known that.
I might’ve been more cautious, gentler in the way I touched her.
Then to find out she had cancer and never shared that either.
Not when Emily was fighting and losing her battle, and at no time after.
Those kinds of experiences seem pretty essential to what makes a person who they are, and now I’m left to figure out what to do with that information.
I can’t deny a brief gut reaction of not again flitted through my mind when the subject of cancer came up. Part of me wonders if Bess was afraid that information might have impacted how I see her.
Does it make a difference? Does any of it change the way I feel about her?
I lift my head and look in the mirror over the sink, my face wet with the cold tap water I splashed on it.
Nah. I love her, have for a while, and it’s only grown deeper the closer we’ve gotten. Despite my slightly bruised ego, that hasn’t changed.
Rick is waiting for me when I step out.
“What was that all about?”
“Sorry. I’m frustrated.”
“That much was obvious,” he returns dryly. “You were a bit more intense than I’m used to. What gives?”
I hesitate, knowing what I’m about to share could potentially get Bess in some trouble, and at the very least will expose things about her that really shouldn’t be for public consumption.
But it was Bess’s call to make that sacrifice to help resolve this case, and it’s important information that paints a clearer context.
I look down the hall toward the front desk area and notice a few curious glances. The hallway is a little too public for this kind of sensitive subject.
“Grab Mancuso and join me in the meeting room. I have some new information.”
On my way there, I duck into the kitchen for a quick cup of office dredge and find Brenda there.
“I heard about Bess’s brother, how is he?”
I get the sense that’s not what she wants to know, but I answer her anyway.
“As far as I know, he should be okay.”
I grab a mug and pour myself coffee, watering it down as best I can with the creamer I find in the small fridge.
I’ll probably be up half the night drinking coffee at this time of day, but it’s not like I was going to go home with this case heating up the way it is.
In any event, I need my head clear for what is to come.
“And Bess? I’m surprised she’s not with you.”
I knew Brenda was fishing for more. She has a great sixth sense for picking up on dynamics playing out under the surface, and is relentless in sniffing them out.
I don’t want to feed into that, so I stick to the basics.
“She’s okay, still at the hospital with Savvy,” I share, quickly adding, “I’ve gotta run. They’re waiting for me.”
Then I dart out the door.
With any luck, she’ll be off for the day by the time I come out of the meeting.
The last thing I need is to bump into fucking Don Merrick right outside the meeting room.
“There’s no one at the front desk,” he starts in an accusatory tone.
“That’s probably because it’s after five on a Sunday afternoon,” I point out. “But Brenda is still around, if you were looking for her.”
“Actually, I was looking for the sheriff, but you’ll do.”
I almost laugh at the blatant diss, but don’t want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Besides, I’m already strung tight, I don’t want to give him a chance to get under my skin.
“It’s come to my attention there’s been a major development in this case, and I’d like to know how soon you can wrap this up. I have an important investor visiting in a few days and the last thing I need is another fire or kidnapping or high-speed chase right through town to scare him off.”
How fucking ignorant can you be? This douche is more concerned about investments than he is the citizens of this town. Already fired up, this is enough of a trigger for me.
I lean in and very nearly poke my finger in his chest.
“You have gotta be fucking kidding me.”