Keeping Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 3)

by Siobhan Davis

  He shakes his head. “Not that I’ve discovered so far.”

  “Well, damn. I was hoping you might have found out why she has targeted Ky. I thought it was linked to her secret, but maybe I was wrong.” Another thought occurs to me. “Did you discover anything interesting about Courtney?”

  “Nothing springs to mind. Why do you ask?”

  “Call it a gut instinct.”

  “Anything I had I’ve turned over to Mom and Dad’s guy. I can’t think of anything that would be helpful in this situation. I was just looking for evidence of her blackmail.”

  “What about the stuff the PI uncovered? Can you get your hands on that?”

  “Sure. I can hack into his server and pull his files.” He shrugs. “But is there much point? You heard what my parents said back there. She’s finished after today.”

  “Let’s just say I need it for peace of mind.”

  He pushes off the desk. “Okay, I’ll get the stuff and glance through it this weekend to see if there’s anything of interest.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How’s my brother?”

  “As well as can be expected.”

  “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

  Shouts from down below distract us. I open the door, and find Kal at the bottom of the stairs. “The press conference is starting. Come on.”

  We run down to the games room, and I drop onto the couch beside Ky. All the major news channels are covering Alex’s press release. Keaton pulls up the large screen, and everyone quiets to listen as she announces the sale of Kennedy Apparel to the Accardi Company and confirms she has stepped down from the board and from her position as CEO. Shocked gasps emerge from the media crowd when she announces that the brand was built on a lie, and after explaining, she apologizes for any offense.

  She speaks eloquently and passionately about why she made that decision and how much the business has meant to her. In stepping down, she acknowledges the error of her ways. She ends her statement on a more personal note.

  “I would like to thank all the Kennedy Apparel employees for their dedication to the company over the years, and I can assure them they are in great hands with Accardi. They have ambitious plans to develop the business, and I have no doubt they will grow from strength to strength. I would also like to thank my colleagues on the board who have worked tirelessly this past week to sign off on this deal. Lastly, I would like to thank my husband and my children. They have sacrificed a lot so I could pursue my business ambitions, and I couldn’t have achieved what I achieved without their support.”

  She pauses briefly, scanning the large crowd in front of her. “There have been a lot of reports and speculation in the media recently about my family, and that has, in part, contributed to the decision I have made to step away from my career.” She glances over her shoulder at James, standing stoically behind her. “My husband almost single-handedly raised our family, and I can never thank him enough. Certain things I’ve done have hurt him, and I’d like to publicly apologize to him for that. My beautiful sons have become targets lately, and that is the price I have paid for being in the public eye. They have never asked for that, and I want to apologize to them too and let them know that I am going to be there for them every day from this day forth. Finally, I would like to appeal for privacy. We have lived our lives under a spotlight and now we would like to retreat to the shadows. Please give my family that peace and let us resolve our problems in private. Thank you.”

  She leaves the stage amid a flurry of questions. Keaton mutes the TV. “Mom did good.”

  Kent snorts, and we all raise our eyes to the ceiling. “What?” he yells, scowling.

  “Let’s hear it,” Kal says. “Whatever derogatory bullshit you have to say. Get it out of your system before Mom and Dad get back.”

  Kent flips him the bird. “You’re an ass.”

  “No, you’re an ass,” Keanu ventures. “Do you not get how big of a deal this is?”

  Kent harrumphs. “I’m not buying this bull. I’ll believe it when I see it. And I’m not buying the whole “I did it for my family” crap either.” He puts on a pretend whiny voice. “She did it for herself so that slut Courtney wouldn’t get the business or Dad. That’s what she really cares about.”

  “You’re wrong,” Ky speaks up. “I believe in what she said earlier, and trust me when I say she still has a long way to go with me, but if I can give her the benefit of the doubt, then I think you should too.”

  “Bro,” Keaton says, twisting to face Kent. “Mom barely ever takes a day off work. Now she’s given it all up for us. She’ll be here every day. It’s going to be awesome.”

  I grin at Keaton. God, I wish I could bottle his enthusiasm.

  “Hundred bucks says you’ll be sick of her fussing over you after a month,” Kent retorts.

  “Never,” Keaton loyally replies. “I will never say that.”

  Ky stands up at the sound of an approaching car. He pulls Keaton into an improvised headlock, mussing up his hair. “Brother, I’m proud of you even if you do act like a pussy most of the time. Don’t ever change.”

  Kent emits an amused laugh. “Hell, this family is screwed. I blame you,” he says, pointing his finger at me.

  “Me?” My voice betrays my surprise.

  “Yeah, you. You have everyone acting all emotional and touchy-feely. It’s gross.” He grimaces, and I laugh.

  “I know you don’t really mean that, and one day you’re going to eat your words.”

  “Hell will freeze before that day comes.”

  I roll my eyes as Brad steps into the space. A chill of unease flitters across my skin.

  “Hey, you ready to head out?” he asks Ky.

  “Yeah. Just let me grab my bag.” He turns to face me. “We’re going to the track. You wanna come with?”

  “Nah. You two go. Have fun.” We all know that would be outside the realm of possibility if I went too. I stand up and peck him on the cheek. “I have some stuff I want to do, and I need to call Rose back.”

  “’Kay. I won’t be late.” He kisses me on the lips.

  “Man, you are so whipped,” Kent sneers.

  “Whipped and proud,” Ky replies, winking at me. It’s ridiculous how much his admission thrills me.

  After they have left, I pull Keven aside. “Do you have some time to spare before you leave for Harvard?”

  “What for?”

  “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

  I bring him to my bedroom and power up my laptop. Then I show him some of my research. “You’ve been busy,” he says.

  “I’ve had plenty of time on my hands this week. What do you think?” I touch the screen, running a finger under the list of names I found on Memorial’s alumni website. It was easy to find Peyton and Addison’s mom from previous student records on the site, and I used that to dig up some old photos. The same group of girls appears in several pictures so I’m guessing they were friends. “Can you trace any of these people?” I ask.

  “Watch and learn, little girl,” he says, pulling up some cryptic-looking login page. “Watch and learn.”

  “Less of the little girl if you don’t mind. I’m almost eighteen.” I pout.

  In a directly transparent move, he stares at my boobs. “Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed.”

  I elbow him in the ribs. “Oh em gee, I didn’t have you pinned for a sleaze. Now I know where Kal and Kent get it. You are lucky Ky isn’t here, and you’d better deliver the goods or I’ll have to set him on you.”

  “Puh-lease, as if I couldn’t take him.” He flexes his biceps, before bumping my shoulder. “Besides, you know I did that on purpose. I’m only joking. And, for the record, I haven’t been checking you out, not that it’d be wrong.” He sends me a saucy wink. “I’m not your blood relative either.”

  “You did not
just say that.”

  He laughs heartily. “You are way too easy to wind up.”

  “Shut it, jerk face, and just work your magic. Time is a-wasting.”

  Twenty minutes later and Keven has discovered that one of Wendy’s old school friends is a waitress at a diner on the outskirts of town. “What do you say? You up for paying her a little visit?”

  Keven checks his watch. “I’m not sure I have time. Rain check?”

  I stand up, fishing my phone out of my back pocket. “No can do. Ky has this murder charge hanging over him like a storm cloud, and I want to get to the bottom of things sooner rather than later. It’s cool, though. Don’t worry. I’ll call Rose and see if she can borrow her mum’s car.”

  He puts his hand on my wrist. “Hold up. I don’t like the thought of you going there by yourself. That place is a little rough. Ky would kick the shit out of me if he discovered I let you go there by yourself. How about I go with you and you arrange for Rose to pick you up? I think I can still make my date on time if I don’t have to drive you back.”

  “Ooh, a date,” I tease as if I’m ten again. “Anyone special?”

  He snorts. “Hardly, unless you’d call a regular fuck buddy special?”

  “Jeez, do you have to be such a pig?”

  “Would you rather I lie?”

  “No. Definitely not.” I give him a push toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ll message Rose from the car.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Faye

  The sky is painted an eerie purple-gray color by the time we pull up in front of the diner where Wendy Moore’s high school friend works. I had phoned before we left the house to check she was working tonight, and someone up there must be looking out for us, because she is. While she was a little hesitant when I first suggested coming here to talk about an article I’m writing for the online school magazine, I managed to convince her when I mentioned it’d be a paid interview—that had been Keven’s suggestion.

  A bell tinkles as we push open the door. An older lady with dark hair approaches us with a forced smile. “Table or booth?” she asks.

  “Booth, please,” I reply, following her to an empty one at the rear of the diner. She hands us a couple of menus. “Could you let Stacy know that Faye is here. I spoke to her earlier on the phone.” Mercifully, it’s not too busy, so we should have time for a decent conversation.

  A few minutes later, the waitress returns with a skinny blonde in tow. “I’m Stacy. You’re Faye?” the blonde asks, and I nod, extending my hand.

  “Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”

  Her handshake is limp and damp, and I resist the urge to wipe my hand over the front of my jeans. Makeup is caked on her face, and hollow crevices line her forehead. Her eyes and lips are wrinkled at the corners, and she smells like smoke and cheap perfume. “And who are you sweetheart?” she asks Keven, thrusting her enhanced chest forward. Her uniform is short and tight, and if she strains any farther, I reckon her top will split right open. From the way she’s devouring Keven with her eyes, I get the sense she really wouldn’t mind all that much.

  “I’m her cousin,” is all Keven offers up.

  “Nice tats.” She licks her lips while focusing on the ink creeping up his arm. Sliding into the seat beside him, she flicks her stringy bleached-blonde hair over her shoulder and gives him an eye fuck. Mascara has clumped her lashes together, and the thick layer of jet-black liner rimming her eyes has smudged, giving her a panda-eye effect. I know from the pictures I found online that Stacy was quite the looker in her day, and I feel a pang of sympathy. There’s no ring on her finger, and if her appearance is any indication, life has taken its toll. She’s not actually that old, and it’s pretty sad.

  The other waitress smirks at Stacy’s feeble attempts at flirting. “We’ll take two coffees and two muffins,” Keven says, ignoring Stacy’s intense gaze. “Would you like anything, Stacy?”

  “How about you?” she answers, giving him a saucy wink.

  “Afraid I’m not on the menu.” Keven’s mouth pulls into a grim line, while I attempt to smother my snigger of amusement.

  She pouts. “I’ll take a coffee, Shell.”

  I pull out my folder and remove my pen and pad. “As I explained on the phone, I’m writing an article for the school magazine on the class of 1989. We’d like to find out what life was like in Memorial High back then, what kind of plans you had after graduating, and whether you have achieved your goals, etcetera.” I deliberately don’t look up. I doubt working in a sleazy diner was top of her list of ambitions.

  Stacy is remarkably chatty, and I only have to ask a few questions every now and then to keep the conversation flowing. Shell brings our coffees and muffins as I try to steer the conversation in the direction I need it to go.

  “Wow, that’s great, Stacy,” I say, when I finally get a word in edgeways. “You’ve given me tons of great material here. I was hoping you might be able to give me some information on a few of the girls you were friends with at the time, and perhaps some of them might be willing to talk to me as well.”

  She takes a slurp of her now-cold coffee. “Wendy Moore is the only one I still talk to, and our contact is sporadic at best.”

  Jackpot.

  I try to temper my excitement at the fact that Peyton and Addison’s mum is the only one she’s still in contact with.

  “Oh, I think I know her. She’s Peyton’s mom, right?”

  Her brow puckers. “That’s the dark-haired daughter? I always get mixed up. That woman has had more kids than I’ve had hot dinners.” She throws back her head, cackling to herself.

  I fake ignorance. “I thought Peyton was an only child?”

  “Hell, no.” She laughs, looking briefly over her shoulder before leaning in to the edge of the table. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but you’re looking for real life stories, right?”

  I nod eagerly.

  “In town, Wendy was known as a four-by-four for years,” she chuckles. “On account of her having four kids by four different dads,” she adds by way of explanation.

  I allow my eyes to pop wide and prop my elbows up on the table, so I’m angled toward her. “That sounds interesting.”

  “It was a big scandal in school when she got pregnant at fifteen.”

  “Gosh, that was young,” I say, playing along, while I compute calculations in my head. There’s no way she could be talking about Addison because the dates don’t stack up.

  “Yeah. Her mom made her give the baby up for adoption, and Wendy wouldn’t tell a soul who the father was because he would’ve been put away for knocking up a minor.”

  I decide to take a risk. The diner is starting to fill up, and I’m sensing our time is drawing to a close. “Can I tell you a secret?” I whisper conspiratorially. Her head bobs. “I heard Peyton’s cousin is really her sister. Do you think that’s true?”

  Keven sends me a warning look, but I pretend not to notice.

  She casts another quick glance around. “Oh, it’s true all right. That was the other big scandal around town. Brittany, Wendy’s other daughter, was only three years old, and Peyton was barely out of the womb when she got pregnant with her sister’s husband’s child. Now, very few know that’s the truth. There was gossip to that effect all over town, but they neither confirmed nor denied it, and they managed to bury it. Nicole, that’s Addison’s official Mom”—she makes little air quotes with her fingers—“pretended to be pregnant at the same time so when she returned home with her daughter no one thought it was strange. Wendy said she couldn’t cope with another baby and she’d given it up for adoption. She just never mentioned that her sister and her husband adopted the baby. Nicole couldn’t have children, so I guess that’s why she was happy to take on her husband’s bastard as her own.”

  “Wow. That’s quite a story. I can’t believe
Wendy would do that to her own sister.”

  Stacy rubs her hands, and her eyes glisten in delight. I bite back my distaste, retracting my earlier sympathy. Anyone that relishes spreading gossip so maliciously isn’t deserving of my pity. Not that I’m overly complaining. This is gold, and I’ve barely had to work to get it.

  “Wendy was always jealous of Nicole, and she hated the fact that she’d married up when she was stuck in a trailer park as a single mom. She deliberately seduced her husband, and although she hasn’t admitted it, I’m convinced she got pregnant on purpose.”

  “No way!” I gasp, giving an Oscar-worthy performance. Keven looks out the window, fighting a smile.

  “Nicole and her husband paid Wendy handsomely for Addison and to keep her mouth shut, and it worked until Wendy wanted more cash. When Nicole wouldn’t cough up, she went to Addison and told her the truth. That’s actually when we fell out. I thought it was really mean to do that to the kid, but Wendy is a cold-hearted bitch these days.”

  “Oh, so you aren’t really on speaking terms with her anymore. You won’t be able to set me up with an interview?” I continue playing my role although I’m delighted this isn’t going to get back.

  “We talk if we bump into each other in town but that’s it. She’s given me the cold shoulder because I had the nerve to stick up for Nicole and Addison. And, honestly, honey”—she leans over, patting my hand—“you really don’t want to go here.” She shivers, as if something nasty just crawled over her skin.

  “That’s too bad,” I lie. “But thanks so much. You’ve been great, and I’ve got lots to go on.” I slide an envelope with a hundred dollars across the table.

  “Glad to help.” She pockets the envelope, giving Keven some side eye. “And thanks for bringing the eye candy, much appreciated.” She cackles again, squeezing his knee before she steps out. “I better get back to work before my ass is canned. Nice talking to you, hun.”

  “I think I need a body scrub and a lobotomy after that experience,” Keven jokes once we step outside the diner. I have a ready-made retort lying idle on my tongue. One that involves the shady characters I found him hanging with before, but I say nothing. I can’t afford to fall out with Keven or piss him off right now. Ky needs me to sort all this out, and I’m not going to turn away my best chance of help.