“First, Blake, there is no public record indicating you have a brother. In fact, you’re an enigma. The only data on you is data that focuses on your business deals and philanthropic activities.”
“Everything you say is true, with one exception. I did have a brother. His name was Devon Yancy Laurie.”
“Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that Devon Laurie was your brother? The Devon Laurie?”
Before Blake could answer, Teddy was up and out of her chair and walking to Blake’s bedroom. Not knowing what she was doing, Blake got up and followed her.
Teddy picked up one of the pictures she’d seen when she’d searched Blake’s bedroom. “I knew I recognized this guy, but I didn’t think anything of it. I did think it was strange you had a picture of a man in your room. I thought maybe you were gay.”
“No, Teddy, trust me; I am not gay,” Blake said. “So, you recognized the man in the picture?”
“This is the guy at my mother’s annual art fair who established the Young Artist Endowment Award. This is the guy I was talking about earlier, who took such an interest in Santiago Escobar and his work.”
Blake chuckled. “I know, Teddy. The moment you told me his part in your story, I started to put the pieces together. I knew you were talking about Devon. So, now, will you sit down and let me tell you my story? I am convinced we have been brought together under these extraordinary circumstances to do something extraordinary. So … please … sit down.”
Almost everything Blake needed to tell Teddy was now out in the open. One exception was his father’s will and the fact that, if anything happened to him, he had recently made her the estate’s beneficiary. Now it was time to lighten things up a little bit. He knew the information he’d shared with Teddy was overwhelming because it was overwhelming to him, too. In fact, he hadn’t realized how much of a burden he’d been carrying until he had freed himself by telling her the truth. Now he wanted to celebrate.
It wasn’t often, but whenever Blake had a lot on his mind or was concerned about something, Devon would come into town and give Blake his own personal concert. Since he loved entertaining and music, his brother had an arsenal of repertoire for any occasion, but Rick James, Prince, George Clinton, and Sylvester were his favorites. Despite being a tall, svelte, white boy, he had each and every one of their moves down pat. And he could sing. There was no lip synching at his “concerts” for Blake; everything was live.
Blake couldn’t contain the spontaneous laughter erupting from within. Even in death, Devon made him laugh, and now he was about to do the same thing for Teddy.
Feeling completely overwhelmed, Teddy curled up on the huge pit sofa in Blake’s media room. Anchored by her own self-pity, she was clearly on the verge of sinking, as if the Devil had stolen her joy, and now she just wanted the game to be over. Here she was at the finish line, but she felt as if she couldn’t cross over, and in fact, questioned if she ever would. It was a dark time for her. Despite all their success, the shadows were trying to take hold and take over.
Blake knew Teddy was struggling, but before he allowed her to get comfortable in the darkness, he had something for her: a performance he had perfected on his own. Just as she was about to shut her eyes, out of nowhere he emerged. A video screen came down from the twenty-five foot ceiling, accompanied by the scratching sound of an album about to start. Then a scene from a prison movie began to play. And as the character in the movie began to dance to Marvin Gaye’s “Make Me Wanna Holler,” so did Blake. It was like watching synchronized swimming, only better.
All Teddy could do was laugh. She could tell this wasn’t Blake’s first recital; he had played this role before. Even the costume was fitting: wife-beater T-shirt, red knit cap, and tight-ass Sicily jeans — the same kind Marvin wore.
By now, Teddy was his favorite fan. There they were, two strangers brought together under one roof … nowhere to go and no one to be with except each other … two friends with what seemed like a lifetime of loss … joined together by the sweet sounds of Motown.
Chapter 24
WITH ELI FINALLY SLEEPING, Charlie needed to catch up on some loose ends.
Hey, Blake. Listen son, I am sorry I didn’t call you sooner, but, like you, I’ve been preoccupied. When you get this message, I need for you to come to my safe house. I have something to tell you and show you, and I can’t tell you over the phone. Also, I’m glad Teddy is okay and I’m glad you were there for her. Anyway, call me as soon as you get this message.
Before Charlie could set down the phone, Blake was at the front door. Based on his disposition, Charlie could tell he hadn’t received the message he’d just left.
“Hey, Blake! Good to see you, son,” Charlie said as Blake walked right past him.
“Just tell me what happened, Charlie. I trusted you, man. You were supposed to be there to protect her, so what happened? Please tell me what happened, man!”
“You may find this hard to believe, son, but I was there.”
“You were there,” Blake said, as if he didn’t believe him.
“Yeah, I was there, Blake,” Charlie replied. “I just didn’t know you were there until after Walls killed Lance. When Walls headed outside before the fire erupted, I saw you go in as he was leaving. I’d been following Eli and Walls and I’d positioned myself where I could see them, but they couldn’t see me. I knew Lance and Teddy were inside because I could tell by the heat sensors.
“When I heard the shot, I started to make my move. But Lance walked out and headed in my direction. You arrived right about the same time he was met by Eli. You saw the same thing I saw, son. I’m convinced your arrival was a godsend. Had you not showed up when you did, I would have definitely gone in and tried to get Teddy, but chances were I would have been too late because of where I was positioned. There was too much distance between me and the house, and by the time I’d made it around Eli and Walls without being seen and then to the house, the fire would already have erupted. But when you showed up, I knew she would be all right because your timing was perfect. That’s what I meant by a godsend. With you there to take care of Teddy, I was able to stay where I was and continue to follow Eli and Walls.”
Blake was totally at a loss. He couldn’t believe that for several days, he’d doubted Charlie’s loyalty and actually believed Charlie had betrayed him.
“Wow, Charlie,” he said, now finding his way to the old brown couch that consumed the back wall. “This is unbelievable,” Blake said. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I should have known your word was your bond.”
“Don’t worry about it, son,” Charlie replied. “Things were moving too fast, and when you put things in proper perspective, what happened was supposed to happen.”
“What do you mean by that?” Blake asked, sensing there was more to Charlie’s statement.
Charlie then filled Blake in on everything, beginning with the break he’d gotten with the case the District police were working on. Blake had known Taylor DuBois had been murdered, but with all the other stuff going on, Taylor’s death hadn’t registered.
“So what does Taylor DuBois’s death have to do with us?” Blake asked.
“Everything!” Charlie replied. “Had it not been for Taylor, we wouldn’t know who Eli’s accomplice was. Nor would we know that Eli’s accomplice is the FBI mole, the same man who can pin the murder of Taylor DuBois on Guy Yeager and probably Devon’s murder, too. He is also the other man in the picture, the man who took part in Isabella’s murder. Now we know who all three men were. In addition to that, we also know he is the same man who’d been commissioned to take out Eli, which means he can lead us to who is really behind everything.”
“How did you put the Taylor-Guy Yeager connection together?” Blake asked.
“Well, that’s where it gets interesting.”
“What do you mean by that? Hell, things are already interesting, don’t you think?”
“True, but this new information required me to make some changes.”
&nb
sp; “So what are you saying, Charlie?”
“I’m saying that all these pieces came together when I received a call from my good friend Miles.”
“Who’s Miles?” Blake asked, now sitting on the edge of the couch.
“You know Miles, Blake,” Charlie replied. “Commander Miles Racine. He called me because he was working on the DuBois case and his team had found two latent prints. Instead of using the District’s data-base, he wanted to protect the identity of the person because he had another piece of information he wanted to keep under wraps.”
“And what was that?” Blake asked.
“That you had been implicated in Taylor’s murder. And he knew I would want to know first.”
“Me?” Blake said with shock. “What did I have to do with Taylor DuBois? I probably haven’t said more than a hundred words to her my entire time in the District.”
“I know, son,” Charlie replied. “But your name came up when Miles found Taylor’s private cell phone. When he listened to the saved messages, there was one from Councilman Grey Jeffries. In the message, Jeffries was looking for information; he wanted to know everything Yeager had on you and Edelstein, and he also wanted to know why Yeager was so obsessed with you. Needless to say, when Miles heard the message, it became evidence for his murder investigation and he knew I would want to know.”
“So I take it Racine knows all about me?”
“Blake, he is my oldest and dearest friend. He was also a friend of your mother. So, yes, he knows about you, my feelings for your mother, and my promise to your mother. Actually, Miles came into this game at just the right time. If you ask me, his part in all this is another divine intervention. In fact, I’m starting to believe more and more that everything we are doing has been divinely inspired.”
Blake listened as Charlie went on about the DuBois case and how it helped tie everything in.
“I am telling you, Blake,” Charlie said as he poured a cup of coffee, “there is no doubt in my mind that what we are doing is exactly what God had planned for us to do. Over the years, I’ve worked many cases, but never have I worked a case like this, one that linked so many different people together only to find out that everybody is connected in some way or another. It’s kind of like that movie Will Smith played in. You know? The one where he played a rich … well, where he pretended to play a rich kid … just so he could establish a relationship with this rich family. And I think, if my memory serves me correctly, I think he was gay in it, too.”
“Do you mean Six Degrees of Separation?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Six Degrees of Separation. That’s this case, too — six degrees of separation. Now, listen to this. I believe Eli’s accomplice, Agent Jason Walls, had been commissioned by the Others to kill Eli.”
“Oh Yeah. How do you know that?”
“Well, he almost did.”
“What do you mean, he almost did?” Blake asked. “Eli is still alive?
Charlie ignored his question and continued the story. “After they killed Lance, I followed the two of them through the brush behind the house. At the bottom of the brush is a creek. When they reached the creek, the two men began to argue. I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but it was obvious Walls wanted the satchel and the cooler that Lance had given Eli and he pulled his revolver out to prove his point. Eli tried to subdue him by using the satchel to knock the gun out of his hand. Then they started wrestling, and it looked like Walls was going to take Eli out. But, then, I heard a shot.
“At first, I thought the gun had just gone off because of the way they were going at it, and by the way they were going at it, there was no indication whatsoever that either one of them had been hit. It was amazing, Blake, it really was. They were like two gladiators. Eli’s hand-to-hand combat skills, combined with his boxing skills, were exceptional.”
“Yeah, I know,” Blake said. “When I first met Eli, he was tall and lanky. He hadn’t filled out yet, and in fact, I taught him how to box. The rest of his moves he picked up somewhere else.”
“Well, you, and whoever else taught him, did a good job. I can tell why he was selected by the Others to do their bidding. If he had used his talents in other ways, he would have been a force to be reckoned with. I know for sure the bureau could have used his skills.”
Blake wasn’t too impressed. He had issues with Eli and now was somewhat agitated with Charlie’s sudden appreciation of his skills. Plus, at the root of everything, he was mad at himself. He couldn’t believe that after all these years, he hadn’t really known Eli.
Charlie could tell Blake was in a different space, including being mad at himself for having been deceived. “Listen, son, I think I know how you’re feeling. You can’t blame yourself for Eli. You were his cover and he was yours in many ways,” Charlie said. “And remember — everything that has happened, both the good and the bad, was supposed to happen. Now, let me finish the story. So, where was I?”
“You were talking about Eli’s skills.”
“Right,” Charlie replied. “Anyway, as they were fighting, I saw my chance to get ahead of them. I knew that whoever won the battle would be heading to the street because that was where they had parked their car, and I needed to be in my truck when they emerged. That way I could follow them to where the Others were. I figured, since they had the satchel, the Others would want to seize possession of it immediately.”
“So did it happen the way you thought it would?” Blake asked sarcastically.
“No, it didn’t. Eli definitely got the best of Walls, even though Walls appeared to be faster. But then the strangest thing happened. Rather than kill him, Eli stopped beating the kid, pulled him from the creek so he wouldn’t drown, and even checked his pulse to make sure he was alive. Then, after he picked up the satchel and the cooler, he headed toward the street. Instead, however, he ended up collapsing right in the middle of the brush. When I went over to check on him, he was bleeding pretty badly, and I knew it wasn’t because of the punches he took; he’d been shot.”
“So then what happened?”
Before Charlie could finish his story, the door to the bedroom opened. Charlie could see from Blake’s expression that the end of his story had just been told. “He saved my life,” Eli said as he held onto the IV pole.
Not knowing what was going on, Blake looked at Charlie in shock. He didn’t understand how Charlie could save the life of a man who had caused so much carnage.
“I know what you’re thinking, Blake,” Charlie said. “But, trust me, this is bigger than you and me. He is here recuperating because I believe God wants to use him.”
“God wants to use him?” Blake yelled. “To do what? Hasn’t he caused enough pain? In fact, he probably killed my brother.”
“That wasn’t me, Blake, I assure you,” Eli replied as he slowly walked to the chair in the small living room. “Hell, I just found out you had a brother. The man who killed your brother is Guy Yeager, and the man who helped him make it look like a suicide was Jason Walls. The same man who tried to kill me.”
“So why didn’t you kill Walls then?” Blake replied with disgust. “You had the chance, so why didn’t you do it?”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Mr. Henderson,” Eli said, finally sitting. “I can’t kill anymore.”
“What?” Blake said with disbelief. “You can’t kill anymore? Why is that? From all accounts, you’re a one-man killing machine.”
Eli could feel the disgust emanating from Blake, but, rather than strike back as Blake had hoped he would, he said nothing.
“Damn it, Eli,” Blake said, “I asked you a question.”
“I couldn’t kill him because I knew that if I had continued, I wouldn’t have been able to stop when it came to you. You were to be my last mark.”
Charlie and Blake looked at each other. They couldn’t believe what they had just heard. Eli had spared Walls so he would have the inner strength needed to spare Blake?
“I know what I just said is a lot to
comprehend, especially considering I was basically created by the Others to be a killer,” Eli said. “But, if you indulge me, I will try to explain.”
By now, Blake’s trepidation was masked by his anger and apprehension. Here was a man he had befriended and now that same man stood in front of him with bloodstained hands. Eli’s objective and Blake’s objective were polar opposites. Eli wanted to explain why he could no longer take a life in hopes that Blake would understand, and Blake wanted to know if he had what it took to kill.
Blake’s anger was evident. He didn’t know what to think, and in the middle of his confusing thoughts, was Charlie. What was going on? How could Charlie’s desire to find the Others supersede his obligation to let a killer die? Blake couldn’t wrap his head around anything at that moment and as a result, his natural instinct to be wary in an uncomfortable situation was now heightened.
“I’m sorry, Blake,” Eli said. “Man, I have never apologized for anything. But right now, I mean what I say. You have meant more to me than anyone, and it was only recently that I realized just how much. As I sit here in front of you, I know I’m a dead man and my fate will come swiftly. Yes, it is true — I’m a killer. I wouldn’t be surprised if I have killed more people than most soldiers on the front line. After a while, you stop counting. But now, I’m the target. I will be hunted down the same way I hunted down my prey. Now that’s the true meaning of poetic justice — to go out the way you created for yourself.”
Charlie and Blake sat back and watched as Eli continued to tell his story. Everything he said created images in their mind that completely entrenched them in Eli’s nightmare. Despite the hypnotic nature of the story, Blake’s anger refused to let him be sucked in.
“Why are you telling me all this?” Blake yelled. “What do you want from me? I watched you hand a gun over to one of your ‘brothers’ and he calmly executed a man at your instruction. But, before you killed him, you tormented his mind with the abduction of his wife. How did you torment her, Eli? Did you do the same things to her you did to Isabella?”
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