CLASH: Gentry Generations

by Brent, Cora

  I was making good progress on the inventory until a nearby thud made me nearly jump out of my skin.

  “Hello?” I said.

  No answer came.

  There were no customers in the store. I would have heard the bell over the door ring. Cynda was still in her meditation room. Aaron, a part timer who handled the heavy lifting, was in the back room rearranging boxes. I was the only one here.

  As least I thought I was.

  A flashback to Peter’s sneer when he blindsided me at my apartment door was enough to make my already racing heart kick into overdrive. I snatched a hanger from a nearby blazer and clutched it in front of me with both hands. I didn’t know what good a clothing hanger would do me if I were confronted by the dual threats of Peter and Paul Crestwood. Perhaps if I hurled it at them they would be so startled they wouldn’t be able to move for a few seconds. I could get a head start on escaping. I was fairly quick. If I sprinted I might be able to make it to the back door.

  I hunkered low and crept down the aisle. This was kind of like a scene in a horror movie. And I was the star. Or maybe not the star after all, maybe just a supporting cast member. They were the ones who got chased through the woods by clowns with meat cleavers and stumbled every three steps until the killer inevitably caught up. They were expendable.

  I decided to stop thinking in horror movie terms.

  There had been no other sounds since the abrupt thud. The end of the aisle was only six feet away. I would have guessed that the thud had come from the next lane. Feeling bold, I closed the distance and pivoted with a little hop.

  “AHA!” I shouted, my hanger missile clutched in front of me like a samurai sword.

  There was no one in sight. A men’s black dress shoe was innocently lying on the floor. Its twin sat rather precariously on top of a rack nearby.

  I lowered my pretend sword. Obviously someone had selected the shoes and then changed their minds, absently setting them aside. One of them had fallen. That’s all. There were no creeping clown marauders. No Crestwood brothers either.

  I felt like an idiot as I collected the shoes and made my way over to where they belonged. This morning I’d played it cool when Kellan asked if I was afraid of Peter Crestwood. The Petri Dish likely wouldn’t have the guts to do anything violent but I wasn’t sure. It was disturbing enough to know he’d tracked me to Kellan’s place and could show up there anytime he pleased.

  And then there was his brother…

  I didn’t know if there was any truth to the rumors about Paul Crestwood. Once he’d crippled a man in a bar fight over some petty matter yet had never done any prison time. Sierra had hinted that he was capable of far worse and had connections to organized crime but she’d always been full of so much bluster and hot air it was hard to know when to believe her. I did know that on the handful of occasions when I’d seen him at family gatherings one look from him turned my blood cold. He was someone to avoid at all costs.

  I felt myself grimacing as I straightened all the shoes on the shelf until their toes were perfectly aligned.

  Things couldn’t go on this way. Kellan was worried. I was attacking shadows while armed with only clothing hangers. It was time to do something. I didn’t know what, but I suspected my brother Aiden would be a good place to start. True, the Crestwood brothers were boyhood friends of his and he’d been behaving less like a loving brother and more like a wronged enemy since our father ate a bullet in his study, but if there was any crack in the cold armor of the united front against me it was him. I was his little sister, the kid who used to draw him pictures of flowers and begged to be perched on his shoulders. Somewhere in all the stress and bitterness of his life he had to remember that.

  Cynda emerged from her meditation room and announced that she’d been blessed with an epiphany over what to do with the front display window. For the next three hours, in between assisting the random customers who wandered in, I helped her arrange the mannequins and gathered items from around the store to create a whimsical masterpiece scene of autumn colors with pops of turquoise. It was fun and helped take my mind off unpleasant matters.

  My shift ended at six but I offered to stay and help Cynda place the finishing touches on the display window. She waved me off and told me to go home to my handsome boyfriend.

  “And tell Thomas that I said hello,” she added with a wink and I promised I would even as I wondered what Kellan’s brother would say when he heard he’d become such an object of admiration.

  I was behind the wheel of my car and enjoying the familiar thrill of knowing I’d be seeing Kellan soon. Then I remembered he was working at Esposito’s tonight. I could stop there to pick up dinner. I often did. However, I had to wonder if there was a limit to how frequently a girl could stalk her boyfriend at work before becoming an internet meme.

  Besides, I wasn’t in the mood for pizza. Mexican food sounded perfect to me. I could surprise the boys by bringing home dinner for everybody. Thomas may or may not be there and Kellan wouldn’t be home for a few hours but everything would keep nicely in the fridge.

  Fifteen minutes later I emerged from Sol with my arms full of bags and a drink tray when I heard the distinctive ping of my phone. I smiled, sure that the text must have come from Kellan. I didn’t want to risk dropping Mexican food all over the sidewalk so I waited until everything was loaded into my car before I pulled my phone out.

  A moment later I was frowning, puzzled, as I read the message that had not come from Kellan after all, but from Thomas.

  Come home. I want you now. Need to have you so fucking bad.

  Thomas didn’t talk like that. And even if he did, he certainly wouldn’t say that to me. The text must have been accidental. He certainly meant to send it to someone else, although the ‘Come home’ part didn’t make much sense. To my knowledge, there were only three of us living in the apartment, unless Thomas was storing a friend in his bedroom closet.

  I didn’t text him back. The apartment was only a short drive from here. Anyway, as I turned the ignition I was certain that he must have thought he was texting someone else, some girl he was obviously trying to hook up with. He’d be mortified when he realized he’d sent it to his brother’s girlfriend instead. That had to be the case. It was the only explanation that made any sense.

  This was still my conclusion five minutes later when I turned into The Palms.

  But I was wrong. So very wrong.

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kellan

  Possibly the best known canon in the lore of the Gentry family was this:

  In times of trouble, Deck Gentry rules the world.

  With this thought in mind I didn’t hesitate to call the unofficial family patriarch.

  These days Deck stayed on the legitimate side of the law. He and my Uncle Cord were business partners. Together they owned Scratch, a well known tattoo parlor not far from the university. Deck had left the running of the place to Cord for decades but he kept an office there just to have a home base to work from and handle his varied and sundry business concerns.

  After leaving Thomas, I called Deck and left a voicemail, explaining that I needed to talk to him ASAP. He was a perpetually busy man and I thought I might have to wait to hear back but he called me within three minutes.

  “I never keep family waiting,” explained the deep voice. “What’s up, Kellan?”

  He listened while I gave him a quick run down of Taylor’s situation. Of course he remembered Taylor from the wedding last month and he knew a few things about her already, probably courtesy of my father, although until now I’d downplayed any threats from her freak show of a family.

  “What’s the deal with this brother of hers that you mentioned?” he asked.

  I thought about everything Taylor had told me. “Aiden evidently has a lot of financial problems. Combined with a bunch of medical bills, a sick wife and a house that’s on the brink of foreclosure, he’s desperate for a way out. But he�
��s the one who frightens Taylor the least. Her sister Sierra is vindictive and nurses a longstanding grudge against her little sister for eclipsing her spotlight. Unfortunately, she’s rather resourceful and manipulative and doesn’t seem to have trouble finding someone to do her bidding.”

  “And it’s her husband who’s been stalking Taylor?”

  “Yeah. Peter Crestwood.” My fist clenched as I pictured the guy who’d tormented Taylor since she was a kid. He shouldn’t be walking the streets and terrifying my girlfriend. He should be in fucking prison. I’d never met him but I already knew he was despicable. I’d never been prone to violence but I wouldn’t hesitate to come after him with my bare hands if he hurt Taylor.

  “He has a brother named Paul,” I continued. “Taylor hasn’t seen him around for a long time but he and his brother are thick as thieves and Paul is reputed to be far more vicious. If Peter is up to no good then you can expect Paul to have his back.”

  Deck chewed on that. “They’re local,” he said. “I won’t have a problem finding out what I need to know. I don’t want to bring this discussion into Cord’s office. Can you meet me at my house?”

  “Right now?”

  “No. Three weeks from next Tuesday. Yes, right now, kid.”

  I grinned. Of course Deck could be counted on to produce instant results. I’d predicted that when I arranged for Paige to work my shift tonight.

  But there was one small additional favor I needed to ask of him.

  “Uncle Deck, would it be too out of line to ask you to keep this fishing expedition to yourself for now?”

  Declan Gentry’s sigh was audible. I was asking a lot. He and my dad were close and they spoke often. Uncle Deck could keep thousands of secrets for the right reasons. But the family was his backbone. He would cringe over the thought of lying by omission to my father.

  “Just get over here,” he growled. “We’ll find out what’s going on and what to do from there. Are you bringing Taylor with you?”

  “No. She’s at work. Plus I kind of neglected to mention to her that I was pursuing a research project on her family.”

  “Fine,” he said but I sensed he didn’t approve. “I’ll expect to hear you knocking on my door within the hour.”

  After he ended the call, my growling stomach reminded me that I’d been so busy today on matters of intrigue that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Deck’s house was just a fifteen minute drive from here, meaning I had plenty of time to swing into the drive thru at Burger Haven.

  I ate my food in the parking lot and recalled the night not so long ago when I’d handed paper bags filled with greasy takeout to the girl sitting next to me. I’d been trying not to stare at her, trying not to want her on a night when she needed me to be a friend and nothing more. Even then I was aware that Taylor Briggs was special. I’d already promised myself that I’d walk through fire to protect her.

  I wasn’t sure what she’d say when she found out I’d gone to Deck without consulting her. But I wasn’t sorry. I certainly didn’t plan on sitting on my ass in the hopes that these people would come to their senses. I wished I’d been home when Peter Crestwood dared to show his face. I planned to make sure he understood that harassing Taylor was no longer a viable past time.

  I crushed the fast food wrappers in the bag and made a beeline for Deck’s place.

  His neighborhood was more upscale than the one I’d grown up in. The ornate iron entry door was equipped with one of those camera doorbells. I waved to whoever might be watching before I pressed the button.

  I’d never known many details about what Deck had been involved in during his younger years of hellraising glory, long before he settled down with Aunt Jenny and began a quieter life in the suburbs. All I knew was that his connections were endless, his loyalties fierce. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for family and friends.

  The door swung open and there stood my pretty Aunt Jenny. She smiled at me and held her arms out for a hug. I asked after Isabella, their precious only daughter. Izzy had chosen to go to school down in Tucson and I’d seen her at Cadence’s wedding but we didn’t really have a chance to chat.

  “She’s got a new boyfriend,” Aunt Jenny said and raised an eyebrow. “An offensive lineman on the university’s football team.”

  “Great. I’m sure Uncle Deck is thrilled.”

  Jenny laughed. Her daughter had inherited her looks. People often asked them if they were sisters. “Naturally he’s delighted.” She held the door open and jerked her head. “Go ahead. The man is waiting for you out back.”

  “Thanks, Jen.”

  Of all the things I anticipated finding in Deck’s backyard, the sight of my fearsome de facto uncle cuddling an armful of cute and fluffy baby bunnies was not at the top of the list.

  “Dare I ask?” I said, taking a seat on a cushioned wicker chair.

  One of Deck’s bunny friends twitched a pink nose in my direction.

  Deck looked down at the pile of fur nestled comfortably in his arm, snorted and then finally explained. “While she was home this summer my daughter rescued a pair of abandoned pet rabbits from the pound. They were both supposed to be female. As you can see, they were not both female. Do you want one?”

  “Can’t. My place doesn’t allow pets.”

  “Funny. Neither does mine. And yet here we all are.” He called through the open door into the house. “Jen, what do you want me to do with these damn things now?”

  Jenny appeared and began ferrying tiny rabbits indoors while cooing to each of them.

  “Don’t let them have the run of the house again,” Deck warned. “If I step in any more rabbit shit I’m going to leave their pen open and hope the coyotes find some dinner.”

  “Aw.” Jenny kissed one of the furry heads. “Don’t listen to Daddy. He didn’t mean that.”

  I chuckled. “I had no idea the family had acquired so many new members. I would have sent a card.”

  Deck handed over the last of the rabbits. I noticed how he scratched one behind the ears before letting his wife take it away. He wouldn’t be feeding them to any coyotes.

  Deck plopped down in the chair opposite mine. In the time that had elapsed between the wedding and now he’d grown a full beard. He did that sometimes, until Jenny bugged him to shave it off. He was wearing a t-shirt from Scratch, the tattoo parlor he owned with Uncle Cord. His feet were bare and his dark jeans were ripped in a few places. No matter what he wore he still gave off the vibe of a leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding badass.

  “Let’s talk about your girl’s family,” he said to me and his expression had become grave.

  “Were you able to find out anything?”

  He nodded. “Let’s start with the brother, Aiden. He’s a tame family man who’s made some bad financial decisions. He’s the least of your problems. The sister, Sierra, sounds like an obnoxious piece of work who once showed up in a viral video after starting a cat fight in a tanning salon. Other than that, she doesn’t seem to do much except audition for reality television shows and max out her credit cards.”

  Deck shifted. The furrow between his brows deepened. I suspected that was a sign the conversation was about to turn more serious.

  “Let’s move on to Taylor’s stalk-happy brother-in-law. Peter Crestwood. On paper he’s got a hell of a pedigree. His family had a long history of being real estate robber barons here in the valley. They lost it all in the crash a decade ago. His dad went berserk, stabbed two business partners and then died in a blaze of glory after leading police on a high speed chase up the I-17. As for Peter, all signs indicate he fails at every business venture he touches, has lost two sexual harassment lawsuits and shoots his mouth off when his temper gets the better of him. Which is often.”

  I processed the information. “That’s not good news.”

  “Yeah, well he’s not the one who worries me.” Deck paused. “His brother, Paul, occupies an entirely separate category. He spends half his time down south doing fuck knows what for one
of the cartels. His work is rumored to be bloody and by all accounts he enjoys it.”

  “Shit.”

  “No kidding. There’s no way to tell if Peter is aware of just how much of a baddie his brother is but let’s assume the worst. Taylor hasn’t mentioned anything about seeing Paul lately, has she?”

  “No. Only Peter.” I grimaced. “Her family keeps insisting she knows something about money rumored to be hidden by her father. Richard Briggs, apparently sensing blood in the water, had yanked out as much cash as he could before the authorities closed in. It was never found. Taylor was apparently her father’s favorite child and her siblings hold a grudge. Somewhere along the way they came by this nutty idea that he handed everything off to her before his rendezvous with a shotgun. They think she’s still hiding something and they are bitter as fuck.”

  Uncle Deck leaned forward. “Is she, Kellan? Is she hiding something?”

  “Absolutely not.” I slapped my hand on the table for emphasis. I understood why Deck had to ask but my defenses rose immediately. “Let me tell you about Taylor. She was living out of her car, Deck. She lost everything. Her friends, her family, her home. She was so hurt and so alone. The last two years would have crushed a girl with less spirit. I know you don’t know her at all. But I do. And I believe her. I believe her completely.”

  He listened. Then he slowly sat back and nodded. “All right, then. If you believe in her, Kel, then so do I.”

  I exhaled. “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me. But we are going to need to do some thinking about how we can get these Crestwood dipshits out of her life forever. Because as long as they are creeping around the margins she’s not the only one in danger. You are too.”

  I hadn’t thought of my own safety. Taylor was my priority. My eyes strayed to a large wrought iron clock that was hanging beside the French patio doors. The roman numerals indicated the time was later than I thought.