“I’m with the National Herald, and I’ve been hunting for that woman for more than a year. This is my chance to get an exclusive, possibly a book deal, and then who knows? Maybe a movie!” the reporter said. I could hear the excitement in her voice, and she was practically dancing in place. “Do you know who she is?”
“I’m not going to ask how you found her,” Forde said.
“I am,” Tye interrupted.
Forde held up a hand to silence him. He turned his attention back to the reporter. “I could call security and have you removed from this building for being a nuisance. However, I think that Mr. Burke should ask you a few questions before you leave.” Forde raised one eyebrow.
“I’m not hurting anything. She should talk. I mean people want to hear her story. My contact says there are production companies that would fight to get the rights to her story.” She looked between Forde and Tye as if she couldn’t decide who was in charge.
Tye’s posture was much like Forde’s, on guard and ready. He gave Forde a nod, and then focused on the woman, “Come with me, Ms.…?”
“Liz, Liz Candidy.” She grinned showing lots of teeth, and I think she finally noticed how attractive Tye was. She ran a hand through her hair, and then the smile morphed into something more flirtatious.
“Let’s go to my office. We’ll be more comfortable there.” Tye motioned his hand toward his office.
Jesus, he was going into this totally blind. He looked confident and sure, but my stomach cramped at the thought of what he was going to learn about me.
I retreated to Forde’s office and paced back and forth. I couldn’t stop shaking. A reporter had found me. I heard the door to the back open and shut. Soon, Forde stood in front of me. He gently gripped my biceps and stared into my eyes. “You all right?”
I nodded once then asked, “How-how did she find me?”
He released me, and then motioned for me to sit down in front of his desk. I could feel my chest heaving. I tried to calm my breathing. I needed to focus. “I changed my name; those documents were sealed. I saw to it. I run all of my mail through a law firm in Florida. They handle all communications with my mother. The only person who knows about all of this is my best friend from college, and she wouldn’t tell. Ever.” I was sure that Ramsay would never spill. She saw me in Tampa after the attack, and then moved me to Denver. There was no way she’d spoken to the reporter.
“There’s always a trail,” Forde told me. He rested his arms on his desk.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling my eyes burn and voice hitch.
He ignored my apology. “Somebody bribed somebody at the law firm, or they were hacked. Reporters can be ruthless, and it looks like you’ve attracted one who wants a big payday.”
“Tye, wha-what’s he going to say?” It just occurred to me that he’d gone into protective mode, getting me to safety.
“He’s interviewing the reporter in his office.” Forde’s lips pursed.
I swallowed loudly as I gripped the armrests of the leather chair. “So he’ll know… She’ll tell him everything.” I hated this.
“You’ve been able to keep it locked down for a while now but…” Forde didn’t finish.
“I’m going to have to tell him, talk about it.” I looked down at my feet, trying to get a grip on my emotions. “It was bound to end. It was nice, you know? There were even times that I forgot—not for long, but I did.” And now that would end.
“Want a suggestion?” Forde offered.
I wanted to throw myself across his desk and beg him to take care of me. I felt like I was drowning. I looked at him again, hoping he could solve all of my problems. I took in another deep breath and waited for his offer.
“Come over tonight. We’ll invite everybody, so you can tell everyone at the same time. Get it over with, and then if you want, we won’t talk about it again.” Forde watched me.
My eyes began to well with tears. “That’s too much on you. You have a new baby. Last thing Layla needs is this... I’ll just make the rounds.” God, I dreaded the thought of having to explain over and over, but I hated to bring this ugliness into their home.
“Layla’s getting stir crazy being home. She won’t mind having everybody descend.”
“I don’t know...”
“We’ll order in, that will save her from having to cook,” he assured me. His gaze remained kind, but his mouth firmed. “Plus, I’m not sure I want you alone this evening. If she figured out where you work, then I imagine she knows where you sleep.”
I let out a long breath and mumbled, “Shit.” I could move. My lease was month to month, but I had no idea where to go. I dreaded moving to a new city and starting over again.
“Go to the break room. Try to eat. I’ll call Lay and send out a text. Take it easy this afternoon. Just don’t leave the office without checking in with me, okay?”
I rose unsteadily and headed out. At the door, I paused. I turned around to face Forde. “Thank you, Forde, for everything.”
“You’re family,” he said, as if that explained it all.
Chapter Fifteen
Tye
It took over two hours to get rid of that reporter. I did my best to handle things. I tried the “nice guy” routine, listening to her plans, and then promising to run them by Billie or Bilan. All while pretending I knew exactly what she had on Billie. I’d always known something horrible had happened, but I didn’t want to hear exactly what from a stranger who intended to get rich off Billie’s misery.
When we were done, I personally escorted her out and made it clear she could not directly contact my “client.” From this point forward, all communications would run through me.
After that, I had my assistant move my meetings so that I could talk with Forde. He came to my office for a meeting, which was out of character, but after Googling “Bilan Wainright” and reading her story, I could understand why he was moved to protect her and why Billie had panicked. It must have been a huge shock for her past to come knocking.
I updated Forde on what the reporter had said. Clearly, Billie’s mother was somehow involved in all this, because she’d been the one to contact Ms. Candidy. With a mother like that, no wonder Billie had changed her name and moved far away from home. After Forde said he was hosting a gathering at his place for Billie to speak, I prepared myself as best I could to be the friend she’d need.
That evening, I used my keycard to pull into Forde’s building. I was such a frequent visitor that he had finally given me one. I think Layla secretly hoped that one day I’d move in. Forde was in no hurry to rent the three empty apartments. He had one other tenant, and she traveled most of the year.
I was running late. A last minute phone call that I took from one of my clients had run long. After listening to her long list of grievances against her ex-husband and her many concerns about the upcoming holiday visitation schedule, I reiterated, for the third time, that the agreement had clearly laid out the dates and times. I honestly didn’t believe her ex was planning to take their three young children to another country so that she could never see them. I’d met the kids. Nobody would willingly take them anywhere. They were loud, destructive, and all under the age of five.
I took off my tie and suit jacket and threw them across the backseat. I looked longingly at my gym bag, wishing that I could change into more comfortable clothes. I checked my watch and saw that I needed to hustle. I was starving, and with this group, if you weren’t there when the food was put out, you were left with the picked-over remains.
I took the elevator to Forde’s floor and walked through the propped open door. Everybody was there. Osi and Rick were talking quietly in the corner, while Jenn sat beside Zoe, who was busy feeding Livy. My dad was talking to Tony who leaned against the breakfast bar. Forde held his daughter in one arm while eating a slice of pizza with the other hand.
I moved toward the kitchen, the lure of food on my mind, trying not to think about Billie and everything that I had learned. Inside,
I found Layla and Billie sitting at the table. I started in their direction, but Layla shook her head at me. I pulled up, and then turned to the boxes covering the counters.
Forde entered the kitchen. “You’re late. Grab some pizza.”
“Got caught up in a call that wouldn’t end.” I tore two slices free and put them on my plate.
“Beer?” Forde offered.
I lowered my voice. “I’m thinking beer after, a Coke for now.” I smiled at the sleeping baby.
“Good call.” Forde pulled a can from a tub filled with ice.
Together, we returned to the living room.
I took a bite of pizza and chewed. I looked back at the kitchen. “How’s she doing?”
“Quiet. Lay’s good with her. The moment she walked through the door, she put Lucy in her arms. That kept her occupied while I set things up.” Forde looked down at his baby.
I nodded. Layla wouldn’t push or prod. She seemed to be able to read situations and act accordingly. That was one of the reasons why she was perfect for Forde.
“Eat up.” Forde frowned, and then started around the room, saying a word here and there as our friends took their seats.
I stuffed the last bite of crust into my mouth. My dad caught my eye, and I made my way to the empty chair next to him.
“Bad business,” he said, as I settled. His voice was gruff. I knew that he liked Billie and was worried.
“Yeah.” I opened my drink. I was still upset by the reports I’d read.
Layla and Billie moved into the room, which fell silent as all eyes turned toward them. After Layla sat at the end of the sofa, Forde handed her the baby, and then he perched on the arm. Billie stood in front of us, shifting from foot to foot, not looking at us but at the floor.
Forde lifted his gaze, scanning the room—a silent signal that everyone should listen. “Thanks for rearranging your schedules and coming. Some things happened today, and I thought it best if Billie only had to go through this one time.” He rested his arm around his wife’s shoulder.
Billie lifted her head, and from where I was sitting, she looked haunted. Her eyes were huge. Her skin was pale, and somehow, she appeared smaller, like she’d shrunk an inch or two since we’d stood in line to get our lunches.
“I’m not sure where to begin…” she said, her voice strained. She then cleared her throat. “I want you to know I always planned on telling you about this. I just got spoiled by not seeing pitying looks or getting the questions.” Her chest rose then fell.
My jaw tightened. This was so hard for her.
“I’m working really hard to get better. Since I moved here, I am better. You all have helped me with that.” Her hands shook at her sides, so she linked them in front of her. “I appreciate that you didn’t pepper me with questions when I was vague about my background or when I looked tired because I’d had a bad night. Not having to constantly explain, it’s ah...it’s been a true gift.” Her blue gaze was filled with pain as it traveled around the room.
I wanted to rush to her side and wrap my arms around her. Her pain was palpable.
She shook her head as if clearing it. “I was born in California.” Her gaze met mine for a second. “My mother was an actress, and my dad wasn’t rich by L.A. standards, but he had some money. She got pregnant, and they married, but it didn’t last long.
“I got a scholarship to college, and I left home one week after I graduated high school. I obtained my Masters and found a job in northern California, and four years later, got a better job in a bigger city. It wasn’t what I’d expected. I was working all of the time, constantly fighting for funding.
“I took a trip to see my father’s sister in Tampa. Aunt Celeste lived in a nice house on a golf course. We’d always gotten along. She’d just learned she had a rare kidney disease. The doctors’ said it was terminal and she offered me a deal.”
Billie ran a hand through her hair and a few strands were left standing up. “If I’d move to Florida to help her, then she’d pay me a salary and leave me her house.” She smiled a sad smile. “She knew I hated my job, but I was too stubborn to admit defeat. I jumped at the chance to be with a woman I adored.”
“I bet that took some getting used to,” Zoe commented.
The blonde shrugged. “Yes and no. Celeste wasn’t demanding, and her friends were nice. When she really started to go downhill, it happened fast. After she died, I needed to wait for probate to end, and I was advised I could get a better price for the house if I did some updating. So I started working as a substitute teacher while I waited.” She paused to ask Forde for some water.
After she took a few sips, she continued, “I got called to an elementary school about ten miles away. The staff was friendly, and I started hanging out with some of them. You know, going to cookouts and movies.” She ran her hand through her hair again. “The principal called me into his office one day and told me that I was at the ‘top of his list’ to call when he needed a fill-in. That was the only time I was ever alone with the man.”
When she put the bottle of water on the table, I knew she was stalling by how slowly she moved.
“School had just let out for the summer, and the house was done. I hired a realtor, and I’d also met a guy. Nothing serious. I planned to leave Florida, and he travelled around the state for work.
“He was a nice guy, but it was nothing special. I took him to three get-togethers with my friends. The detective said that seeing Nick kiss me, and my impending departure, are what pushed Frank, the principal, to act.”
Everyone sat straighter in their chairs; no one made a sound, not even the babies.
“That morning, I’d run to the grocery store before lunch. I was having my girlfriends over to help me do the staging for an upcoming open house. I popped my trunk to stow my groceries, and that’s the last thing that I remember.”
She wiped her mouth. “Frank Shields, the elementary school principal, tased and kidnapped me. I saw the parking lot video; it took like ten seconds.”
She sounded surprised, although I bet she’d watched the surveillance video time and time again.
“When I had moments of lucidity, I realized I was in a garage, secured to rings drilled into the cement floor.”
Layla whispered, “Oh, Lord, honey.”
“He’d come across a bottle of Rohypnol, the date rape drug. He tried to keep me out, but he couldn’t figure out the dosage. When I was out too long, he would freak, and then cut back for a day or two.” She took another drink of water. “He didn’t really have a plan, or I should say a viable plan for what he was going to do with me.”
From across the room, I heard either Osi or Rick say, “Shit.”
“When I would wake up, I had no idea how much time had passed. I knew I was roasting, because Florida in June isn’t fun in a garage on a hard floor. From time to time, he would drag a hose in and clean me off.”
My chest constricted. Dread made my limbs feel heavy as I imagined what it must have been like. She had to have been terrified, figuring out the reality when she was coherent, and then slipping under while drugged.
Billie’s eyes closed for a brief second. When she opened them, anguish was there. “He would take me when I was conscious, and when I wasn’t,” she said, her voice roughening, and then she stared right at me. “I mean that in every sense of the word. He raped me, sodomized me. He brutalized me. Repeatedly.” The anger and anguish were still there.
Christ, it was like those words echoed through the room. I didn’t look away. I’d already read that part, and Forde had forwarded copies of the police reports and the medical reports with the photos attached.
“He was running low on the drug, so I was conscious more, and for longer periods of time. I figured out really fast that if I didn’t start paying attention, I was going to die on a rubber sheet in my own urine.” She squared her shoulders. “He’d used plastic ties on me, and they had eaten into my ankles and wrists. They hurt and were infected. I knew that I’d need my l
egs when I got my chance to run.” She started to rub her right wrist as she talked, which pushed up the stack of bracelets she always wore.
“I’d noticed, if I didn’t fight or cry, that Frank would sometimes give in and leave my ankles free. I started to force myself to cooperate.”
Her face grew whiter, and I worried she’d throw up, but she drew a deep breath and shook her head.
“I started to play him, asking questions about our future together. He’d left his wife and kids, telling her that he was going to a friend’s cabin, because he needed time to think. Finally, I talked him into moving me into the house. He handcuffed me to a mission-style headboard. You know, the kind with the vertical slats?”
Someone must have nodded, because she continued. “I got him to agree to leave my legs free all of the time. The cuts weren’t healing. In exchange for that privilege, I didn’t fight him when he visited me.” Her lips lifted in a sneer. “One night, he came back from one of his trips, and his face was messed up, like he’d been in a bad fight. When my story was all over the news, a drug dealer came forward and admitted that he’d done the damage. Frank tried to buy heroin. He wanted me addicted and dependent on him.”
I worried when she began shivering. It was too much. She didn’t need to give us all the gory details, but something in the way she lifted her chin, a slight defiance, made me stop from going to her. She needed this.
“I screwed up a few times and fought while he hurt me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain the rage I felt at being so helpless. One time, I’d tried to buck him off of me, and he’d jumped on the bed and kicked me in the ribs.” Her hands travelled to her right side protectively. “He’d only turn on the air in the room when he was in there, so I was roasting most of the time then freezing when he turned down the temperature. I got sick from being so hot and then cold. The cough and my broken ribs just about made me lose focus and give up.
“Then I woke up one day, and I knew I had to make my move. I was getting weaker. He barely fed me, and most of my water came from drinking it during my short showers. The next time I heard his car leave, I made my move.”
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