Alone now in the villa, Annie decided she should get some work done. She called the number on the paper Bruce gave her.
“Dr. Lewis,” answered the therapist on the other end of the line.
“Hi, Dr. Lewis. It’s Annie Whitman. I believe Bruce Patman told you to expect my call?”
“Of course. Thanks for calling, Annie. I have to say I was shocked to hear about the charges against Bruce!”
“Do you think he’s capable of committing the crimes he’s charged with?”
“Well, we’re all capable of anything. But if you had asked me last year, I would’ve said Bruce would absolutely not do this.”
Annie perked up at hearing this as she furiously scribbled notes on her yellow notepad. This was good news. She was already imagining bringing Dr. Lewis to the witness stand.
“I understand there’s a history of bipolar disorder in Bruce’s family. Is there a possibility Bruce has this condition?”
“I treated Bruce for several years and I never saw any indication he was bipolar. Usually, we start to see signs in late adolescence or early adulthood, and Bruce simply had none.”
“Are you willing to testify to that?”
“Well, I can say what I’ve seen, but there’s no definitive test for being bipolar. There’s no way to prove absolutely that he isn’t. But I’ve been treating him long enough to say that in my professional opinion, he’s not.”
“Thanks, doctor. That helps.”
Suddenly, Annie heard the front door slam and Bruce’s murmured curses coming from the living room. She hung up the phone quickly and went to see what was wrong. When she got there, she found Bruce pacing in front of the couch, his face a bundle of rage.
“Those sons of bitches,” he hissed. “They were waiting for me!”
“Who was waiting for you?” Annie struggled to catch up.
“The fucking paparazzi! I guess they’ve found me somehow. They had my restaurant staked out.”
“Sorry, Bruce. That is a blow.”
“Don’t worry. I got one of them back, the leeches.”
Annie went stock-still. She glanced down at his hands and saw a cut on the top of one knuckle. For a second, she imagined the worst. Had he assaulted one of them? Suddenly Annie remembered Dr. Lewis saying there was no definitive test for being bipolar. Just because Dr. Lewis thought Bruce wasn’t, didn’t make it a fact. Dr. Lewis could be flat wrong about Bruce.
“What did you do, Bruce?” Annie couldn’t quite keep the dread out of her voice.
“I broke a camera. I took the camera in my face and ripped it out of his hands and threw it. Cut myself on the lens, too.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Annie released the breath she’d been holding. A broken camera was property damage, hardly anything. If he’d punched one in the face, they could claim assault. A new camera would be easy enough to fix. Except, she thought, what it would do to his already fragile reputation. That wouldn’t be something easily fixed. Not at all. Annie’s mind whirled as she thought about the fallout and how it would affect their case.
Bruce abruptly stopped pacing. “Why? What did you think I’d done?”
“I don’t know.” Annie shrugged, but didn’t meet his eyes.
“You think I attacked somebody? Just like I was supposed to have attacked Robin Platt? Is that where this is going? You’re doubting me now, too!”
Annie felt at a loss for words. Part of her did wonder if Bruce was capable of assaulting that girl. Lately, his mood swings had been erratic. He’d be chatty and upbeat one minute, gloomy and downcast the next. His temper flared over any little thing, like the other night when his personal chef delivered his salmon to the dinner table a shade too cold.
So far, she explained it away as simple stress. Bruce was a fugitive and he’d been charged with serious crimes. Even an innocent man might crack under that kind of pressure.
“Bruce, it’s not that I doubt you,” Annie said firmly. “It’s that I’m your attorney, and I have to think about what this means for your image.”
“Who cares about my image? That’s almost the least of it. It’s ruined anyway! Look at me. Far as anyone is concerned, I’m a rapist. That’s what Elizabeth thinks. I know it. And it’s destroyed everything between us. I’ve loved that woman for years and no one knows me better and she thinks I’m guilty.”
“I don’t think she does, she just…”
“Don’t even bother, Annie. You know how long it’s been since I’ve seen her or even spoken to her? Not since Steven’s baby was found. And then she couldn’t even look at me.”
Bruce looked stricken. Annie felt torn. She wanted to say something in Elizabeth’s defense, but at the same time, a small part of her felt jealous of Bruce’s feelings for Elizabeth. So she stayed silent, uncomfortable, but silent.
“There’s nothing left for us. I can’t believe it’s over. I’ve lost her.”
The anger was gone, and now there was only heartbreak. And then Bruce pulled himself together, a little embarrassed at showing his true weakness and back on the solid ground of his legal situation and his anger.
“You think I can ever recover from this? Even if I’m acquitted, it will be the little footnote that follows me for the rest of my life. Any time there’s a story about me in the paper it will say, ‘Bruce Patman, billionaire and the man who was charged with attempted rape’!” Bruce threw up his hands in disgust and walked into the living room, where he sank into his white couch.
Annie followed him.
“I care about your image and what the idea of a man angry enough to break a photographer’s camera does to a jury pool back home.”
Bruce sighed and put his head in his hands, his shoulders crumpling in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Annie. I don’t mean to yell at you. I know you’re trying to help me.” He looked up, running both hands through his thick, dark hair. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I just feel like I’m on an emotional roller coaster and I can’t get off. I saw that guy with the camera and I just…lost it.”
Annie crossed the room and took a seat next to Bruce. Violating her own resolve to keep her demeanor strictly professional, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“It will be okay, Bruce.”
“Will it?” he challenged, looking up at her with desperation in his eyes. “This nightmare just keeps going. I keep thinking I’ll wake up from it one day, but every day it’s the same thing. Nothing changes.”
“It might change if you go back home and face the charges.”
“I can’t, Annie. Even I’m not sure I believe myself anymore. I think back about that night and there are large chunks of it I don’t remember. What if I did do those things? What if I did and I just can’t remember?”
“You really think you could have?”
“God, Annie, I don’t know anymore. That’s what so frightening. I honest-to-God don’t know.”
Bruce let his head fall into his hands, clearly a man at the end of his rope. When he looked up and his eyes were cold and the slice of his mouth was sharp and hard. “But Elizabeth does.”
It was obvious to Annie that this was a man whose world was falling apart and he had no idea how to put the pieces back together.
Just at that moment, the phone rang. It seemed to ring a lot lately. But anytime Annie answered it, no one was there.
Still, you could almost see Bruce’s heart leap. So few people knew he was here and fewer knew the unlisted phone number. Elizabeth knew.
He stood up, but before he could get to the phone, Annie answered it. “Hello…Hello?”
As usual, no one answered. She glanced at Bruce and shook her head. No one.
Without saying a word, just his dismissive facial movements said, Jerk. Of course, it’s not her.
He sank down on the couch. Annie sat down next to him, putting her arm firmly around his shoulders, almost hoping to hold him together by her own force of will.
He
r heart broke for him, but she wasn’t just his friend, she was also his attorney, and she couldn’t help but think about what this meant for his case. With Bruce emanating such doubt, she wondered if she needed a back-up defense. Should he turn out to be guilty, maybe she could run with some kind of insanity defense, possibly. Maybe Dr. Lewis might have some ideas.
Looking at the defeated and crumpled-looking Bruce, Annie knew she needed to prepare for the worst-case scenario. Like all defense attorneys, she wanted to believe her client was innocent, but she’d be prepared to defend him even if he was guilty.
Chapter Seven
Elizabeth knocked on Robin Platt’s door the next morning, sober and determined. She hadn’t called before she came by. She intended to catch Robin off guard. Elizabeth couldn’t shake the feeling that Robin was hiding something. She’d been by Robin’s house a few times before, but no one hand answered. She wanted one last time to talk to Bruce’s accuser before she flew to Kentucky.
This time, the pretty, slim girl opened the door and blinked suspiciously at Elizabeth. She looked the worse for wear, as if she’d spent a hard night drinking. Her hair was a matted mess; her mascara smudged.
“I just need a minute,” Elizabeth said.
“Well, I know you’re not working for the Tribune anymore, so I don’t know why you’re here.” Robin’s voice was flat and cold as she folded her arms and stood in the doorway, not letting Elizabeth in.
“Did Andy call you?” Elizabeth tried to sound calm and ordinary. She knew Andy would try to get the interview Elizabeth refused to run.
“He did. I ignored his calls at first, but eventually, he caught me taking out the trash. He’s pretty persistent. He said you wouldn’t run my story. Want to tell me why? Also, I thought you said my name would be a secret? If it’s so secret, then why does this guy Andy know it?”
“Andy’s an upstanding journalist. He’s not going to put your name in the paper.” Elizabeth felt suddenly very uncomfortable. “And, I didn’t run your story because I didn’t think the paper was being very fair.”
“Fair to me or to Bruce Patman?” Robin’s eyes missed nothing. And it wasn’t anger or betrayal that Elizabeth saw there, but cool calculation. “I know he’s your boyfriend.”
“How long have you known that?”
“A while.” Robin’s face grew cold and distant. “But, whatever. It doesn’t matter now.”
“No, it doesn’t, Robin. I’m not with Bruce anymore because he knows I’ve helped you.”
“Really?” Robin didn’t sound very convinced.
“Yes. Robin, all I want is the truth. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. That’s what I’m trying to find out here.” As Elizabeth spoke the words, she realized they were absolutely true. In her sober state, she had to allow that Robin could be telling the truth.
“You’re not working for Mr. Patman, are you?” Skepticism came through in Robin’s voice.
“No, I swear. He won’t even speak to me right now.” Again, one hundred percent true. He wouldn’t so much as look her in the eye the last time they were in the same room together. “I just what to know what really happened.”
Robin glared at Elizabeth, the calculations spinning. She seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of allowing Elizabeth in, and somehow Elizabeth couldn’t shake the feeling that Robin was looking for an angle, a way to play Elizabeth. It fanned the flame of her inner doubt about Robin’s credibility. Something here just wasn’t right.
Elizabeth noticed Robin’s right hand shook a little, like she’d had a bit too much caffeine. It wasn’t the first time, either. Over Robin’s shoulder she noticed a few empty mugs on the counter. Her place, as usual, was a mess. Robin glanced down and then shoved her hand in her pocket.
“Come in,” Robin said, reluctantly, letting Elizabeth in.
While there, Elizabeth asked her detailed questions about her past. Where she had lived, where she had gone to school, and the names of her old friends. Robin told it convincingly. She grew up in Richmond, Kentucky, population 33,000, a town big enough to have a Walmart, but small enough that most people did know each other. Both parents were dead, but she had a few friends who might still live in Richmond. Most of them had moved away. With little family left in Richmond, Robin had decided to come to Los Angeles and try to break into the movies—behind the camera. She’d always had artistic talent, and wanted to see if she could work on special effects for the film industry.
“Why so curious about where I came from?” Robin asked.
“I just want to have the whole story.” Elizabeth didn’t tell Robin that she had a bag packed and stowed in the trunk of her car and a flight to Kentucky to catch in two hours.
So far, everything Robin had told her matched with what she’d said before. Elizabeth could find no inconsistencies in the story, and as she rose to go, she wondered if the trip to Kentucky was just an idea born of too much wine and being too lonely. Would it be a waste of time?
But she knew she had to do something more than just drink wine, mope, and drunk-dial Bruce. She had to find out if Robin was telling the truth. If she dug deep enough, she’d know for sure.
It was the only possible chance she had to put her life back together. She’d do anything to do that.
Her phone dinged as she was walking back out to her car. She glanced at the face of it and saw a text from Caroline Pearce.
Instantly, her stomach tightened. She was tempted to delete it without reading it, but she knew she wouldn’t. Like everyone else in Sweet Valley, try as she might, she couldn’t completely ignore Caroline Pearce.
CHECK OUT MY TWITTER FEED TODAY! NEWS IN THE BRUCE CASE! Caroline wrote.
Elizabeth sighed. She knew before she clicked on the link Caroline provided that she would regret whatever she found on the other end. Caroline might like to pretend she was an amateur reporter, just keeping her friends updated on the Bruce Patman case, but she was nothing more than a mean-spirited gossip.
Sometimes, Elizabeth thought Caroline was just a miserable person who wasn’t happy unless everyone else was miserable, too.
As much as she wanted to, Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself from clicking on Caroline’s link. Caroline always knew her weakness, and in this case, it was Bruce. She might be able to ignore news about anyone else, but not Bruce. She had to know. No matter how much she knew it would hurt.
She pulled up a series of tweets about Annie and Bruce.
What’s this? Elizabeth felt her stomach sink. It was as bad as she thought. Caroline wrote: Annie and Bruce sizzle in Cannes! Rumor has it the two are up to more than legal posturing in the South of France!
Elizabeth blinked fast. Annie and Bruce? Surely not.
But then she clicked on a link that pulled up a photo, one showing them looking cozy and intimate at a small table on a patio in Cannes sipping wine. Annie was laughing at something Bruce said, and nothing about either one’s posture screamed tense legal business meeting. They looked like lovers out having a good time.
No, couldn’t be.
Annie was one of her best friends, and Bruce had known Annie forever. He’d never even mentioned finding her attractive, despite having a brief fling with her in high school. And Annie always treated Bruce strictly as an old friend, nothing more.
And Annie knew just how upset Elizabeth was about her breakup with Bruce. She had sat with Elizabeth at their favorite tapas restaurant, shortly after the breakup, listening to Elizabeth go over every painstaking detail about her feelings for Bruce. They’d gone through a pitcher of sangria. Annie knew how devastated Elizabeth was about losing Bruce. There was no way Annie would betray her like that. Would she?
But she was there. Alone with Bruce. Drinking wine outside a cozy, romantic little bistro.
How long had she been there now? And did she really have to stay? The work was here.
Elizabeth felt jealousy begin to gnaw at the pit of her stomach. Annie was a young, attractive single woman, after all.
And she’d an
swered the phone at his villa. More than once. Did that mean something?
Elizabeth read more.
Annie and Bruce the fugitive are getting a bit too cozy in his villa. Maybe Easy Annie is back to her old ways!
Inwardly, Elizabeth sprung to her friend’s defense. Caroline Pearce was unbelievable. Elizabeth knew how hard Annie had worked to put her less than pristine reputation from high school behind her. She felt angry that Caroline even brought it up. How dare she? Elizabeth thought, livid on her friend’s behalf.
And…yet, Caroline’s post planted a small, stubborn seed of doubt in Elizabeth’s mind. She didn’t want to admit it, but what if what Caroline said was true? What if Annie was seducing Bruce? What if she did revert back to her old self, the one who threw herself on any boy who would have her?
And Annie could say, well, he’s not in a relationship anymore. And she would be technically right.
If she were the old Annie, then the old Bruce wouldn’t be able to resist. Besides, Bruce was just angry enough at her to want to hurt Elizabeth as she had hurt him. It was painful to admit, but this was one way he could get her back.
No. Couldn’t be. Bruce wouldn’t do that. And even if he tried, surely Annie wouldn’t let him. Annie had changed. So had Bruce. There was no way they would fall into bed together.
So why is she staying so long at his villa? A nagging voice in her mind wouldn’t let it go.
Elizabeth had remembered the last time she stayed in Bruce’s villa. She recalled the gorgeous views and amazing food and wine. The place was designed for seduction. She blinked the memories away.
For now, she wouldn’t allow her thoughts to go there. She couldn’t. She had to focus on her trip to Kentucky and finding the truth about Robin.
She had to trust that the new Bruce and the new Annie were above cheap sex and mindless flings. Not when so much was at stake, and not when they’d both come so far and matured so much.
Besides, Annie was one of her best friends. Elizabeth had known her for years, and she had befriended Annie back in high school when Annie had few friends. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
Cutting the Ties Page 4