by Lane, Arie
I’ll be far away, back home with Aggie when her body is discovered. The needle and syringe were burned then buried so no evidence remains. We both wore gloves so even if the bottle is ever found, there will be no fingerprints. That’s it. Darla’s dead, and tomorrow I will be back home as if nothing ever happened.
I don’t go straight home though, I go to a variety of different places so my movements will be hard to track, but the one place I find myself is the one place I never expected to be again. I pull the rental car into the cemetery and wade through the two feet of snow until I stand in front of a grave. Looking out at my surroundings, it is almost peaceful here, serene. Except no amount of beauty can hide the stench of death. I’ve never come here before. I know the place, but I wasn’t told of my father’s death until months after he’d been buried. It wasn’t until that bitch tried to take his estate that I knew he was gone.
Kneeling down, I brush the snow away from the headstone so I can see the name clearly. Only it isn’t my father’s name I’m staring at, it’s my mother's. All these years I’ve never known where she was buried. He told me her family claimed her body and that he wasn’t told where she was. He lied. He knew exactly where she was this whole time since this is his family’s plot. I lean over and brush the snow away from the one by her side, and there is my father. After everything he did to desecrate my mother’s memory, here they are eternally side by side.
Maybe Aggie was right, maybe he never did get over the heartbreak of losing her. Aggie always told me she was the love of his life, and after losing her, he just broke inside. Staring at their headstones, I realize I don’t want to be broken for the rest of my life. I want to know what it’s like to have that all-consuming kind of love. I know who I’d find it with, but I’m completely lost on where to look.
As I get back in the car, I send a text to Jacob letting him know the mission is accomplished and ask if he has any news. It is several minutes before my phone chimes.
Got a message from your buddy, Dante, earlier. He received a letter from her. It’s stamped out of Cali. I’m looking into anyone she might know out there. I might have a lead. You should talk to Dante. ~J
I try to recall something Dante had mentioned, but for the life of me, I can’t fucking think straight. The snow is coming down pretty hard, so I’m going to chance trying to talk to him while driving. I’ll just have to wait until I get back to see what he can tell me.
The flight is longer than expected since the storm caused a few delays, but I’m finally back on warmer soil. Dante is picking me up so I don’t have to worry about renting another car and since I only have my carry on. I make my way out of the airport and into the humid air. As if he can read my thoughts, Dante pulls up to the curb in front of me.
I waste no time getting out of the hot humid air and into the air conditioned car. You would think for the middle of December it would be cooler, but nope, not in the middle of Florida. The sun is shining and the temperature outside reads seventy-nine degrees. Leaning my head against the rest, I take an anxious breath, ready to ask Dante about Bentley, but before I get the chance my phone chimes.
Done deal ~ C
So that’s it, now he just needs the authorities to go out there and find her. He plans to place an anonymous tip once he’s out of the area. He needs it to come from somewhere they won’t be able to trace it. I let him know I’m back in Florida and what little I’ve learned about Bentley. He writes back to let me know he’ll head out that way after he confers with Jacob.
Turning back to Dante, I ask him about anyone Bentley might know in California, and why she might go out there.
“Well shit, I don’t know anyone she’d go out there for. I know her mom had that affair with some director out there, but that was before Bentley was born. My parents said once spoke of how she tried getting knocked up by him, but ended up getting pregnant by Grant. I bet you could find old media coverage. She tried to blackmail him into making her a famous actress by threatening to tell his wife about the affair. He’s the only person I know of that lived in Cali, but that was forever ago. He could be anywhere by now.”
I mull over the words for a while. In truth, Dante is probably correct. The odds of her going out to Cali for some guy her mom boinked is highly unlikely. It’s still a lead, but Dante has no clue what the guy’s name is so that leaves us at a dead end. I’ll just have to wait and see what Jacob comes up with. He said guy who told Bentley about her sister skipped town around the same time Bentley left, which makes me wonder if she didn’t go searching for her sister. It would make sense as that would be a logical decision for anyone who thought their sister was dead for the past seven years. But would her sister be where it all began
I hate playing this waiting game, but I have no idea why she would be in California unless she was just stopping through while traveling north. I have no clue as to where to find her sister, especially since she has a new identity.
Another two days pass without any progress. Cage went ahead to Cali, but has found no new leads. There is nothing new on any social networks under either of Bentley’s names. I swear I’m losing my fucking mind. How the fuck can one person just disappear over and over? I start to fear that maybe this Oliver guy is some kind of fucking con artist. That maybe he really did kill Cora and was just feeding a bunch of lies to Bentley to get her alone. What if this dude was working for Darla the whole fucking time? My mind is reeling as I sit down on the couch.
Aggie takes a seat next to me and pats my leg. I know it’s meant to be a gesture of comfort and understanding, but I can’t shake the uneasiness I feel. Clicking the remote, the TV shudders before a news bulletin comes on.
Breaking News
The body of a woman found in an abandoned mine two days ago has been confirmed as that of Darla Celeste. An anonymous tip called in by a hunter lead the police to the discovery. A rescue team took several hours to extract the body due to the sensitive nature it was found in. The mine is said to house hundreds of rattlesnakes. An autopsy was performed yesterday evening, and the cause of death has been ruled an accident. It is believed she was camping out in the wooded area in the mountains to flee law enforcement. As most know the area is home to many wild animals, and bite marks found on the remains are consistent with that of coyotes. Authorities believe she fell into the mine while trying to escape the animal attack. Mrs. Celeste was wanted for the attempted murder and kidnapping of her daughter. The F.B.I. confirmed she was a wanted fugitive who earlier this year jumped bail before her arraignment.
I click the television back off, so that’s it then. No more Darla. I wonder if wherever Bentley is if she’s breathing a sigh of relief. I hope her mother’s death gives her some kind of peace. Maybe now she’ll come home, though something inside tells me not to count on it.
Bentley
It’s surreal seeing my mother’s face on the screen, knowing that she is dead. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can breathe. No more death threats, no more fear of what is lurking in the shadows, no more watching every suspicious looking vehicle. I’m free. It’s an odd sensation and one I could easily grow to covet. Yet, at the same time, there is this sadness pulling at me from inside. Being free doesn’t change anything. I didn’t come to Cali to wait for my mother. I came to get to know my father.
My heart isn’t hurting because she is dead. It’s hurting because she is no longer here to keep me from Tristan, yet I still can’t be with him. No matter how I try to slice it, that fact still remains. Tristan has found someone else in the midst of all of my chaos. I need to come to terms with the knowledge that he belongs to someone else now.
I promised myself I wouldn’t spy on him. I swore I would step aside and let him have the love that he so deserves, and I intended to keep my promise. I just need to find ways to distract myself, like finding the perfect model for my next book. I’m running out of time, and Sarah asked if I mind if she calls some potential models that might be a good fit. I told her I don’t mind since
I really not sure what it is I’m looking for anyway.
This will be the first book I released under my own name since the abduction last year. It is the first step to a fresh start, one that I need desperately. I received a voicemail that three of the four she requested answered back already and she was just waiting on the fourth. I asked her if I could have a heads up as to whom she’s looking at, but she told me to have some faith in her as she knows me well enough to know what I’d want. In truth, she really does, but who doesn’t mind seeing a little eye-candy now and then, especially when they can’t look where they want to.
I send her a message back letting her know to go for it, and head downstairs to finish up some last minute details for tonight’s party. I brought Marco home earlier this week and put off telling him about the party for as long as I could. Since he had never thrown a party for them before, I didn’t want him to be put out, or feel I am stepping on his toes. He wasn’t upset at all though. In fact, he was quite excited about having a party just for them. He even took it upon himself to up my own party plans.
As it is, there will be thirty-five guests in attendance and the caterers are already starting to get set up. The weather is a little warmer this evening, even though there is new snowfall on the ground. The sky is clear, and you can see straight out to the ocean that lies on the other side of the vast gardens. Stepping out onto the back deck, I make a vow to myself that once it warms up, I’m going to go sit by the shore and let all of this weight I’ve been carrying go with the tide.
I miss the beaches in Florida. The beaches here are more rocks and less white sands and seashells. The ocean is much colder on this coast, but then I’m use to the warm waters along the Gulf. I miss home, and the heat and comfort that comes with it. I long for that feeling of security; not that I don’t feel safe here. It’s a different kind of security. When I walk along the sands back in Florida, I feel like I’m at peace. It’s like a beacon that calls to me. No matter how lost I am, I always find myself there. I wonder if walking the beach here will bring me that same feeling of contentment.
By the time I get back inside, my skin is cold and covered in goose bumps. I guess that’s what I get for reminiscing. My father’s staff has already started to arrive as I enter the living room. I greet them all with a fondness as if I’ve known them for years. I feel rather put out though when I find Dr. Finn camping out by the makeshift bar. Before I can ask what he’s doing here, a hand latches firmly around my arm.
“Play nice, Bambina. It’s just one evening. Tell me, what is it about Brad that seems to make you so uncomfortable?” My father asks.
“I’m not sure,” I reply. “No, that’s a lie,” I say, shaking my head. “He just rubs me wrong. He’s an asshole. He’s an egotistical jerk-off who doesn’t seem to understand the concept of the word no. He’s a raging prick who is constantly passive aggressive to Mrs. Anders, no matter how nice she is to him, and I want to slap that goddamn smirk off his face. He’s a condescending dickhead who constantly undermines everyone else for his own self-serving satisfactions.”
My father starts laughing as I finish my ranting. “Is that all darling? So all in all, he’s what you might call an 'asshat,' no?”
“No! Absolutely not. He’s a lot of things, but no he’s not an asshat. Only one person gets to be an asshat...my asshat.” I say, not realizing the implication of my words. He’s already caught on though, so I can’t take them back.
“Ah, I see. So asshat is a name you use with fondness then?”
I shake my head again and try not to laugh myself, but that little twinkle now sitting in his eyes tells me he knows so much more than he’s letting on.
“How much do you know?” I ask.
“My Bambina, I’ve watched over you your whole life. It seems the only person you’ve ever referred to as an asshat is your Tristan. Therefore, this name must hold an endearment to you, since he most certainly does.”
“Please leave this alone Marco,” I reply with desperation in my voice.
“He’s moved on, he’s happy now. He’ll always be my asshat, he just won’t be it with me.”
I try to hide the sadness from my voice, but I know I’m failing miserably. I just need one night where he doesn’t consume my thoughts, one night where I can be the old snarky, bitchy, Bentley who doesn’t give a shit about any man.
“I will respect your wishes, but know this: Not everything is as it seems. What proof do you have of this newfound happiness?” he questions before walking away.
What the fuck does that mean...'what proof do I have?' I saw the picture of him and that woman. I saw her hands all over him. What more proof do I need? He was smiling down at her and they looked blissful...isn’t that enough?
I stand there contemplating what Marco said when a pair of hands graze my hips to wrap around me. I react quickly, bending my assailant's fingers back until he releases me, then step out of his hold. I’m neither surprised nor sorry to find Brad nursing his swollen fingers.
“Dr. Finn, I’m not sure just how you were raised, but actions such as yours could easily be misconstrued as sexual harassment. I assume you’re here to see my father, so as his guest I must ask that you keep your hands to yourself,” I say before walking away.
My father looks absolutely horrified by either my own or his Dr.'s behavior. For a moment, I believe he may intend to put one of us in our place. Instead, he ushers Brad into the side office to conduct his check-up.
I’m pissed to high hell at that arrogant pricks actions, but like a dutiful daughter, I take it in stride. I make a quick stop into the bathroom, and then head to the kitchen to make my father and his guest a cup of hot chocolate. Not that I really want to do shit for Brad, but I don’t want to get reprimanded for poor manners either, nor do I want Marco taking his medication late because I’m too pissed to accommodate them both.
I notice Maddie eyeing me strangely and I simply shrug it off. Before I finish making the cups, Maddie hands me a small package before giving me a wink and walking away. Opening the wrapping, I find breakable squares with the Ex-Lax logo engraved in them. I drop several pieces the chocolate into one of the cups and stir until they melt down completely.
Heading into my father's office, I place the cups down, making sure Brad gets the laced one. I suppress my delight as he drinks the full cup before I get the chance to hand my father his. I guess it’s a good thing the contents weren’t too hot; otherwise he might have taken his time drinking it. I chuckle to myself after leaving the room thinking just how entertaining his night is going to be.
It’s about forty-five minutes later when the commotion halts Mrs. Ander's and my conversation. I follow her into the hall in time to catch a very flustered Dr. Finn trying to scramble to the bathroom. By the way he is moving you’d think he has a large item shoved up his pert ass. Unfortunately, for the good doctor, he doesn’t seem to be able to find the right room.
Much to all of the staff’s horror, we witness the shit that runs from beneath Brad’s pants, down his shoes and onto the tile floor causing a rather large, disgusting, foul smelling mess. My father walks out of the office to see what is happening and nearly slips in the trail that is following behind Brad as a snickering Maddie points him to the bathroom.
I try really hard to hold in my laughter at the sight of Brad’s ridiculously soiled pants. I mean honestly, what kind of grown man shits himself. How utterly embarrassing.
Upon Brad’s return, Mrs. Anders looks at me, then back at the man who just shit all over my floors.
“My apologies Miss Celeste, but I’m simply not paid enough to clean up the feces of a man who doesn’t know how to control his bowels. I’ll send for someone qualified for the task. Or perhaps Dr. Finn would be so inclined to wash the floor, since he’s the one who felt it necessary to shit on it like untrained puppy. Honestly, Doctor, where were you raised…in a sewer? I should expect your mother would be mortified if word got out that her son took such frivolities in his patient’s home.”
I try to hide my laughter behind a cough as my father looks on with suspicion. I’m sure if he’s watched me for as long as he says that he knows damn well this is my doing. Still, it’s hard to keep a straight face when all I can think about is Brad sitting in his new over-priced, imported car with its leather seats, and how he’s going to need one hell of a detailing.
When I was finally able to speak again,I address Mrs. Anders. “I in no way would ever expect you to perform such a demeaning task as cleaning up the defecation of a grown man. I truly expect my guests to be house-trained, but obviously someone needs further lessons in potty-training. Please call one of the maids to clean the floors as I don’t believe any further embarrassment needs to befall Dr. Finn, and be sure to add something extra to her paycheck since I don’t believe this falls within her responsibilities either.”
“As you wish, Miss. Celeste, but perhaps next time the doctor visits, we should invest in some of those pads they use to train animals. At least then if he’s so disinclined to use the bathroom, he’ll have his own designated area on which to shit. Heaven forbid we let that man sit on the sofa, as he might piss on it as a show of dominance.”
I laugh at her verbal disapproval and the abject humiliation he must be feeling. Her words have reduced the pompous ass into a blithering idiot. Yet seeing him throw a fit in front of all of these people with whom he considers beneath him, is even more rewarding. Marco and a man I don’t recognize help Dr. Finn out to his car. He’s lucky this time I only chose to humiliate him. If he puts his hands on me again, the consequences will be a lot more painful.
Chapter 11
Tristan
I receive a message in my inbox about a photo shoot for a cover job. I’m about to tell her I’m not interested when the location catches my interest. It’ll mean flying out to Cali. While normally that’d be my reason to decline, it gives me an excuse to join Cage in his search.