Busted Brooklyn #2
“Because I was young, and stupid, and in shock. Roger had threatened me.” I paused.
“I saw what happened to my father after he went to jail, and I was terrified the same would happen to me. I’m not making excuses.
It was wrong. I should have told the French police the truth and let them look for Alex’s body.
But they were both dead. What good would it have done to throw myself to the wolves, too? ”
Theresa is on her phone now. She says two words I hoped I’d never hear again to whomever she’s called, probably that hulking FBI agent. “Confirmed. Alex Durov.”
A wild panic flows through me. “I thought you weren’t going to tell anyone else?”
“I hate to tell you this, Brooklyn, but you’re mistaken. I don’t think Alex Durov is dead. And he’s coming for us all.” She watches me as if she knows I’m about to pass out, then speaks into the phone again. “Yes. She ID’d him. It’s what we thought. Okay. I’ll see you shortly.”
She hangs up.
“How can you be sure?” I ask.
“Just look at the threats you’ve been getting,” she says.
“Only someone close to you, close to the family, who knows you intimately, would have this kind of access. And we have him on camera. He caught up to you in Atlanta, forced Andrew to leave the airport. When Andrew got away from him, and then he came to Malogen looking for answers, he murdered the Lockes, threatened me, went to the hospital, and tried to kill you. We think he also tried to run you over at Eden’s house. ”
I want to run. I want to hide. I want to disappear. If she’s right, if Alex is alive, if he’s found me, we’re all dead. He was a lover, yes. Until he wasn’t. And that darkness is something I pray I never see again.
“If you’re right, if this is Alex’s doing, then what does he want? Money? Me? And why now? It’s been ten years since he died.”
Her phone rings. She holds up a finger and answers, muttering “Yes, yes, okay,” then hangs up. Blows out a heavy breath.
“What?”
“We have a positive ID and a DNA match. Durov has been in French custody, but was released a few years ago. His hair was found at the crime scene in Malogen. And that means we’re all in deep shit.”
“Great. So now what do we do?”
Before she can answer, I hear a scuffle from the kitchen. I go on alert immediately. Something’s not right. My mother’s heart knows it.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
The detective calls after me, “We aren’t finished here, Brooklyn,” and I wave a hand to acknowledge that I’ve heard.
I didn’t know I was going to be dragged back in time today.
To revisit the follies of my youth, the shocked look on Alex’s face when the bullet pierced his heart.
How he sagged, gray and pale, to the ground.
The look of utter triumph and horror on Roger’s face.
But what the hell is going on in the kitchen? It sounds like people groaning in pain.
I enter from the foyer only to see Margot with her head on the counter, splayed out like she’s unconscious. Eden is lying on the floor, a puddle of wine spreading around her like a bloody halo. The kids are nowhere to be found.
“Oh my God. Help! Help!”
I hear the thundering footsteps of the FBI agents, and as one of them enters the kitchen, gun drawn, Eden groans and rolls onto her side.
“Help us. She did this,” she gasps through panted breaths. “Brooklyn is trying to kill us. She poisoned us. She poisoned you.”
“Where are my children?” I scream, but she goes still, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling.
I dodge the clumsy grasp of an ashen, sweaty FBI agent and start searching, calling for them as I go. “Four! Neve? Where are you?”
It doesn’t take long to find them, on the couch in the snug, together in a pile, shaking. They’re both unconscious. Bohdi is next to them, eyes drooping, panting. He’s upright but clearly has gotten into whatever this is, too.
I pull out the phone Trey left for me and dial 9-1-1. Before I can speak, though, Detective Lee comes into the bedroom. She looks wary now. Two FBI agents are behind her. They are both as white as ghosts. “Emergency services are on the way. Hang up the phone, Brooklyn.”
She’s edging nearer like she’s going to pounce on me. I ignore her, brushing back the kids’ hair, feeling their racing pulses. I can see their heartbeats in the tender flesh of their necks. They are so pale. Oh my God, if I lose them, too . . .
“What’s happened to them? What has she done?”
“Eden clearly said you poisoned them.”
“She’s lying. I was with you the whole time. You know that.”
“Brooklyn. I need you to step over here, away from the children.” Something in her voice is hitched, strange, and I look up just in time to see her pulling her handcuffs out of the black leather pouch on her hip.
The FBI agents are tightening the triangle; they are all slowly edging into the snug.
One of them peels off and drops to the ground, holding his stomach.
He’s the one who asked for the Pepto-Bismol.
“You can’t possibly believe her! She’s done something to the food. Look!”
“Step away from the kids, and let’s talk.”
She’s speaking slowly, gently, like I’m a horse that might spook.
“No way. Where the hell are the EMTs? My children are hurt. My sister is hurt. They need help.”
“Don’t make this harder on yourself.” Then she looks over her shoulder. “Okay. A little help here?”
The second of the two burly FBI agents is swaying in place. “EMTs are here,” he says. His walkie blurts out, “Agents down,” and he, too, drops to his knees.
“My God, Detective, she’s poisoned everyone.”
The EMTs rush in. The second they get to the kids, I step backward and let Theresa do what she will. There’s nothing I can do to help them now.
“Take care of my dog, too, please. Please.”
“Yeah, I’ll let them know. Now come with me.”
I let myself be cuffed, hands in the front. She leads me to the car. She hasn’t frisked me yet. The minute she does, she’ll find the weapon at the small of my back, and I will be vulnerable. I keep my head down and don’t look up. I am devastated. I am scared. I am very naughty.
But Eden Barrow is certifiable.
Detective Lee unlocks the door to the vehicle and makes another call. “I’m bringing in Brooklyn Locke. Our entire team here is down. EMTs are on scene, but we need more support.”
“Detective, please. My children. My sister.” I’m crying now, and the cop finally seems to understand.
“And I need regular updates about how the children, Margot, and Eden are faring. They’re being taken to various hospitals. Some sort of poisoning. And the dog, too. Yes. Okay. I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.”
She turns to me and releases the cuffs.
I’m shocked into uttering, “What are you doing?”
“I don’t want you helpless if that bastard comes for us.”
“Too late for that,” a familiar voice says from behind me.
There’s a sharp pain in my back, hard metal pushing between my shoulder blades, and I stiffen.
That voice. It’s impossible. But unmistakable.
I twist around to see the man I used to love.
He smiles at me, those icy eyes empty and cold. “Why don’t we go back inside?”
Theresa has a hand on my arm, eyes wild. Surely she’s going to stop him, do something. And she does. She’s fast. Her weapon is pointed at his chest before I can blink.
“Drop it,” she demands.
“I don’t think I will,” Alex says pleasantly, and pulls the trigger.
Detective Lee goes down.