Blessed

by S. J. West

  Chapter 13

  When I woke up early the next morning, I could feel Brand lying behind me holding me tight. Apparently neither of us moved during the night. He must have realized I was awake because his arms loosened their hold from around me. I turned around to face him. The look of sadness on his face instantly woke me up.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked raising my hand to smooth out the wrinkles of worry from his forehead.

  “I should have been there to protect you,” he whispered.

  “There wasn’t anything you could do,” I said. “And he didn’t get what he wanted. You can’t protect me from everything, Brand. It’s impossible to keep someone from being harmed at all. Besides, I can take care of myself now. They won’t be able to just keep me locked up like that anymore.”

  “It doesn’t help the guilt I feel,” he admitted.

  “Do you really want to help me?” I said running my hand down the front of his shirt. “Then help me erase what he did from my mind.”

  Instead of the passion we’d felt for one another the previous night, Brand kissed me with a tenderness which shattered my world in a totally different way. The lightness of his touch and the gentle way he ran his hand against my skin was completely opposite to the rough, savage way Robert had treated me. Brand treasured me while Robert had simply wanted to use me for his own selfish lust. Brand could never be that heartless or selfish when he made love to me.

  Making love with Brand was becoming harder and harder not to do. We pushed the limits as far as we could without becoming overtly sexual but the thought of enduring another four years of just heavy petting wasn’t exactly pleasant. What if I didn’t have four years? What if I really only had two months? They were questions I couldn’t help but think about. I knew Brand wanted to trust that we would find a way to stop what was happening to me, but I had always been a realist. I had to consider the very real possibility that things wouldn’t work out the way we wanted.

  My experience with Robert was a prime example. It wasn’t a situation either Brand or I could have foreseen happening. What if Robert had succeeded that night and taken my virginity in such a brutish way? I would have regretted it for the rest of my life, no matter how short that life might actually be. What was the point of waiting to marry Brand if I only had two months left and never got to live out at least part of the beautiful dream Brand had about our wedding day and night?

  Later that morning, I phased back to my apartment to shower and change clothes. Brand said he wanted to make an in person visit to our private investigator to see what he had been able to find out so far. When he tried to call Larry the previous day, his secretary said she hadn’t seen him but left a message for Larry telling him to call Brand the first opportunity he got. Since he never got a phone call back, Brand wanted to check on Larry himself. I told him I wanted to go along and made him promise not to leave until I got back.

  Tara was sitting at the kitchen table thumbing through a local newspaper when I got back home. She smiled at me broadly as I took a seat beside her.

  “Well, did y’all get all that kissing out of your system last night?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “Listen, I need to tell you something.” I didn’t see any reason to keep the secret of Robert from Tara any longer. She would find out eventually, and I wanted her to hear it from me.

  “Lilly Rayne Nightingale, I could strangle you for keeping this from me. Girl,” she stood from her seat and came over to give me a hug. “You should have told me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to forget about it I guess. I should have told all of you since it seems like Robert has taken Justin’s place now.”

  “Well,” Tara said pulling away from me. “You have three angels and a fairy on your side. Plus me for whatever I’m worth.”

  “You’re worth everything to me,” I told her squeezing her hand. “But I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve thought about it enough. Tell me how the rest of your night with Malik went.”

  “Oh it went fine. We played a couple of hands of gin rummy after you guys left and then we watched a movie. I was actually looking through the paper to see what movies are playing. I thought he might like to go to the new theater they just built. I heard it has stadium seating.”

  “So you like him?” I asked, hoping she would get the subtle hint in my question.

  “He seems nice, but don’t get any romantic notions in your head about us Lilly Rayne. We’re just friends. I don’t want anything else right now.”

  I decided to leave it at that. Tara needed someone to pal around with since I spent so much time with Brand. Malik seemed like a nice guy, and I couldn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t have him as a friend even though I was pretty sure he would eventually want more than just friendship from her. Hopefully, by that time, Tara would have completely forgotten about Simon and be emotionally ready for a real relationship. But it wouldn’t hurt to make it plain to Malik how I expected him to treat Tara. I decided to make a quick trip to his apartment before I went back to Brand.

  After I showered and got ready, I told Tara where Brand and I were going that day.

  “New York?” She asked. “Man you gotta take me there someday.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  I phased to Malik’s front door and pushed the doorbell. He quickly answered wearing a nice polo shirt, jeans and sneakers, appropriate clothing for a casual day out with a friend.

  “Hey Lilly, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” He smiled and seemed genuinely happy to see me. “Come on in.”

  I walked into Malik’s apartment. “Listen, I don’t have long. I just wanted to come over and set a couple of things straight with you.”

  Malik crossed his arms in front of him with a serious look on his face. “Ok, what is it you feel like you need to tell me?”

  I took a deep breath. “If I’m wrong, let me know, but I get the feeling that your intentions toward Tara are leaning toward the romantic side more than just the friendship side.”

  Malik grinned. “I’ll never lie to you, Lilly. I was hoping to ask Tara out on a real date at some point.”

  “Well what do you call spending the day with her?”

  Malik shrugged. “I thought it might be nice for her to get out and have a fun day after what she went through last night. I don’t plan to do anything but make sure she has a nice time.”

  “So you’re not going to try anything right?”

  “Oh, I think I know what you’re getting at.” He smiled and shook his head, “No, I won’t try to make a pass at her. In fact,” it was almost like I could see a light bulb come on over his head. “I’ll make you a promise. I promise to keep my relationship with Tara on a friendship level unless she decides she wants it to progress further. How’s that? Will that keep you from worrying?”

  “That works for me.”

  Since I knew Tara wouldn’t be interested in a new relationship for a while, Malik’s promise seemed like the perfect solution to keep him from pushing her into a dating situation she wasn’t ready for yet. Besides, if they became friends and then decided to change it to a romance, it would be better for the both of them. It always seemed like people who were friends and in love had the most lasting relationships.

  Before I left, I told Malik what Brand and I were going to be doing that day. He asked that I keep him informed on what we found out.

  By the time I made it back to Brand, he was sitting at the table working on our puzzle.

  “Made any progress?” I asked scanning the puzzle noticing he had added in quite a few pieces.

  “A little,” he stood from his chair. “Are you ready?”

  “Yep.”

  He took my hand and we phased into a hallway inside a rather nondescript building. The half glass-half wood door in front of us had, “Larry Goodwill, Private Investigator”, painted in black on the glass portion. Brand opened the door and let me go in first.

  “Howdy,” a you
ng, attractive curly haired blonde woman sitting behind an old wooden desk greeted us. She was dressed in a tight fitting dark blue knit dress which accentuated her azure blue eyes.

  There wasn’t much else in the room beside the woman and the desk cluttered with various items including an out of date computer system. The only other things in the room were two uncomfortable looking wooden chairs and a water cooler propped up against the wall closest to the door. The woman, who I assumed to be Larry’s secretary, was smacking so hard on the piece of gum in her mouth I was amazed she was able to keep all her teeth attached to her gums.

  “Can I help ya?” She asked.

  “Brandon Cole,” Brand said holding his hand out to her in greeting.

  “Oh, hiya hon,” she beamed at him. “I still haven’t heard from Larry to give him your message.”

  “Is it strange to not hear from him for so long?” Brand asked.

  “Well, now that you mention it, it is sort of unusual for him to not at least check in with me. Let me call him at home and see if I can find out what’s going on.”

  She delicately picked up her cell phone with her freshly French manicured nails and dialed Larry’s number. After a minute of letting the phone ring, she shook her head.

  “He’s not home either.”

  “Has he told you anything about our case?” Brand inquired.

  “Oh, no,” she said shaking her curly blonde locks. “He doesn’t like to talk to me about the cases. I just answer the phones and type up stuff he needs typed. That’s about all.”

  “Has he had you type up anything about my case?”

  “You know I think he did,” the secretary turned to her computer and clicked her mouse around the screen. “He did ask me type up a few of his notes. I could print them out for ya if you want, hon. But there’s not much there.”

  “Anything is better than nothing,” Brand told her dazzling the poor woman with his smile.

  Even though I wasn’t affected by the toxic dose of pheromone Brand gave off which enraptured most females, I wasn’t any less affected by him, especially when he smiled.

  Only one page came out of the printer. The secretary handed it to Brand.

  “It’s not much, hon, but you’re welcomed to it.”

  “Thank you,” Brand said scanning the piece of paper quickly before folding it and putting in the back pocket of his jeans. “Tell Larry to give me a call when you see him please. It’s pretty important.”

  “Sure thing, hon.”

  When we left the office, I asked Brand, “What does the paper say?”

  “Not much. There’s a name listed as someone to contact about your mother’s true identity.”

  “True identity? You mean she might not be who she says she is?”

  “Looks like that’s what Larry was trying to find out.” Brand took my hand. “I know where Larry lives. Would you mind if we went there to check his apartment?”

  “No, I don’t mind.”

  We were standing outside an apartment the next instant. The door was ajar.

  “Stand behind me,” Brand said, instantly alert. Something was definitely wrong. Even I could feel it.

  Brand nudged the door open with his foot. Lying on the living room floor was a white haired man of average build and height face down in a pool of blood. There was a large red stain on the back of his shirt. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I had never seen a dead body before. Brand quickly took my hand and phased us back to his living room.

  “Why did we leave?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we have called the police?”

  “It’s not something we need to get involved in, Lilly. We have enough problems to deal with without getting entangled in a police investigation. With the door completely open, one of his neighbors is bound to find him soon.”

  “Who do you think killed him?”

  “I’m not sure. From the way the room looked, Larry put up a good struggled with whoever it was before they shot him in the back.”

  “Ok, so it was most likely a human who killed him right, since they used a gun? Maybe his death doesn’t have anything to do with my case.” I knew it was wishful thinking but it was certainly plausible. He probably investigated a lot of cases which would make him the target for such a violent death.

  “I think we should try to find the person he listed in his notes.” Brand pulled out the paper from his back pocket. “According to this, Larry was planning to question someone named Nick Landry. There’s a New York address listed. We could go check him out ourselves.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Since Brand had never been to the address listed in Larry’s notes, we ended up phasing to a street corner in New York and hailing a taxi cab. It only took about ten minutes to get to the apartment building. There was an intercom system on the outside of the building to control who was allowed inside. Luckily, the janitor for the building came out to dispose of some trash while we were debating whether or not we should buzz this Nick Landry’s apartment. Brand held the door open for the janitor, and we quietly slipped inside.

  Mr. Landry’s apartment was on the second floor so we walked up the stairs.

  When we stood outside the door to his apartment, Brand turned to me and said, “Promise me you’ll phase back home at the first sign of trouble. We don’t know anything about this person. They could be dangerous for all we know. ”

  “I promise,” I said feeling like Brand was just being over cautious.

  Brand knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” We heard a man say behind the door. I was pretty certain Mr. Landry was observing us through the peephole.

  “My name is Brandon Cole,” Brand answered. “We were hoping we could ask you a few questions, Mr. Landry.”

  “What about?” Mr. Landry asked gruffly.

  “We got your name from a private investigator named Larry Goodwill. He was looking into the background of Cora Nightingale for us, and he listed you as someone who might have some information about her.”

  We heard the rattle of a door chain and the unlocking of a dead bolt. The door opened and Mr. Landry stood in the doorway looking us up and down. He was an older man of about fifty-five with balding white hair that he combed over in a futile attempt to preserve the illusion of having hair. He wore a white shirt which was straining to keep his large belly from spilling completely over the top of the brown wool waist band of his pants which were being held up by a pair of red suspenders. His sunken brown eyes lingered on me for a while before he spoke again.

  “You look a lot like she did when she was your age,” he commented before waving his hand, inviting us into his apartment.

  Mr. Landry’s apartment was rather old fashioned and distinctly feminine. There were little touches of Victorian style here and there in the curtains and lamps and homemade doilies scattered around on tables underneath crystal vases filled with silk flowers. An antique grandfather clock stood in the far corner chiming a reminder that another hour in the day had past us by.

  Mr. Landry closed the door and invited us to sit on the floral settee resting against the wall by the door between two antique rosewood end tables.

  “Has Mr. Goodwill tried to contact you yet?” Brand asked, taking a seat beside me on the settee.

  “Yeah, he called me.” Mr. Landry walked into the kitchen area attached to the living room not even bothering to look at us again. I assumed he was going to offer us something to drink.

  “How did you know my mother?” I asked.

  Mr. Landry opened a drawer by the refrigerator. “A man came to see me about eighteen years ago and said she was in trouble and needed a new identity.”

  “Do you know what kind of trouble?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Mr. Landry said, keeping his back to us, fiddling with something inside the drawer. “He just asked me to help her out.” Mr. Landry laughed harshly as if he had said something that wasn’t really all that funny. “He didn’t really ask. He ordered me to help her. ”

  �
�Who was he?” Brand asked.

  Mr. Landry turned around then. He was pointing a gun at us with a shaky hand.

  “I don’t think he would want me to talk about him with the two of you,” the scared look on Mr. Landry’s face told me he didn’t really want to kill us but couldn’t see any other way out.

  Brand stood and positioned his body between me and the gun in Mr. Landry’s hand.

  “Leave, Lilly.” Brand ordered.

  I knew I should but I couldn’t. I had to know what Mr. Landry knew. I wasn’t going to leave our only lead to find my grandparents before I got the information we came for.

  Brand grabbed my hand and tried to phase me back home but I cancelled his attempt with my own phasing me back to right where I was sitting.

  “What the hell are you people?” Mr. Landry asked. I could only imagine he was seeing us blink in and out of existence in front of him.

  “Lilly, you promised,” Brand said, getting aggravated by my stubbornness.

  “We can’t leave,” I said. “He’s our only lead. Please, we have to try to get the information we need.”

  I leaned around Brand and looked Mr. Landry in the eyes trying to act braver than I was really feeling.

  “What was her real name? Can you at least tell me that much about my mother before you kill me?”

  “I don’t want to kill you, either of you,” he said, his gun hand still shaking. “But he told me if anyone ever came around asking about her I should take care of them myself or he would…”

  I could see Mr. Landry was on the verge of crying and the hand he held the gun in was shaking even more uncontrollably.

  “He would what?” I asked gently, hoping to coax the information we needed out of him before we really did have to phase out of danger.

  “He would kill whoever was closest to me just like he did my Ella.”

  “Who was Ella?”

  “My wife,” Mr. Landry’s voice cracked. “I can’t lose my grandbaby like that. I refuse to.” He held the gun higher as if he were preparing to shoot.