Joshua

by Beatrice Sand

  Only one way to find out.

  Determent to take this next crucial step, I throw on some clothes. Usually, I avoid the Vandenberg Boston Downtown as I would avoid the plague, even though Mac still lives there at what was once his parents’ suite. I always manage to meet him outside at a bar or restaurant, or even at VIC Headquarters, but there’s just no way around it if I want answers to my questions today. I need to go back to the place where I grew up; to go back to that ninth floor, where memories of the past will haunt me.

  Memories better left in the past, instead of stirring back up again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  joshua

  I scan the lobby as I wait for the elevator, fully aware of the fact someone might keep a discrete eye on me. My extortioner can be anyone: a staff member from Vandenberg, one of my own employees, someone who got fired and holds a grudge against Vandenberg, or just a random lunatic, a freaking parasite, who wants to see money, but whoever they are, how could they be aware of an old family secret that even I didn’t know existed? How did they gain possession of my mother’s suicide note? For that, I need answers. Who in the family knew about the note, and where do they keep it? Why no one ever told me is of more concern, but first things first, and that would be the answer to my birthplace I hope Mac can shed light on.

  I get into the elevator and press the button for the ninth floor. I haven’t done that in years, and it amazes me how familiar the act feels. As I step out on the ninth, I directly turn left, without so much as a peek at suite 63. I never quite understood why in hell I felt the need to name my restaurant after the suite where Mom left us, as if it’s a lucky number. I must have been delirious or three sheets to the wind when I registered that company name, unable to produce the actual name.

  I knock on the door and nervously wait with my hands in my pockets, asking myself how far I’ll let Mac in on everything. The picture, the note, sure, but the extortion letter… Not too sure about that one. I could just pay the whole thing off, make it disappear. God knows this family needs extortion after a kidnapping and a suicide. I make a mental note, that as soon as I get home, check how much money I have left in the trust fund my grandfather set up for us kids. “Tsss…” Am I really considering paying this leech?

  “Hey, Josh.”

  Wide-eyed, I gaze at my cousin in his ripped jeans and coffee stained T-shirt. I don’t get to see him this casual very often. Chinos and a starched shirt are more his idea of weekend attire. Guess the jokes on me. Even his hair is a mess, and I almost wonder whether he’s hiding a long-legged blonde in there. “Is this a bad time?”

  He narrows his eyes. “For what?”

  “For having a heart-to-heart?”

  Mac leans against the doorpost. “Have you even been here before?”

  “Since you moved here? Yeah, once or twice, why?”

  “No reason. It’s just that your name didn’t spring to mind when I heard that knock.”

  “Well, here I am. So, enlighten me, am I allowed in, or do you want me to fuck off?”

  Grinning, he opens the door. “You can come in. It’s just me.”

  “I thought so,” I respond, grinning too.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That guys like us don’t have a social life.”

  His brows rise. “Guys like us?”

  “Workaholics,” I answer as I look around his place. It’s actually quite stylish and tidied for a bachelor. If I had a visitor, they’d probably be overwhelmed by the mountains of culinary magazines, cookbooks, and sketches of how to plate the food, scattered all over the place.

  “Ah, right. Take a seat.”

  I flop onto the comfy sofa. Football is playing on the television, the volume turned up.

  “Who’s playing?” I ask.

  “Patriots and Ravens,” Mac replies. “Two weeks left in the regular season, and if the Ravens win, they make the playoffs.”

  “What about the Pats?”

  Mac looks at me with lips pressed together. “Give me a break, those guys clinched the division two weeks ago.”

  I nod. “Yeah, what else is new?”

  Mac picks up the remote and turns off the TV, then focuses on me. “What’s on your mind?”

  I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees. “Where was I born?”

  “Come again?” he asks, cocking his head.

  “My birthplace, Mac.”

  He rakes his hand through his hair. A gesture of nervousness? “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “No? When Jaz and I were born, you were about five. Didn’t you hold a pair of twins in your arms? I’m sure if I went to Stockbridge and asked your mother for photo albums, I could find some pictures.”

  “I’m– I don’t know if–”

  I’ll be damned if I ever heard him trip over his words before. “Cut the bull, Mac!” I interject his embarrassing stumbling. “Just give me an honest answer. Where the fuck did our cradle stand?”

  His breath explodes. “I don’t know, Josh. That’s me being honest.”

  The answer hits me hard. I desperately needed him to say Boston, because that would mean my past isn’t a lie, and I wouldn’t be walking around with a fake ID. “I believe you.”

  “I’m sorry, man.”

  “It’s okay. Tell me what you do know.”

  “I believe we both can use a beer.”

  He disappears into the kitchen and returns with two bottles of beer. He hands me one, then sits in a leather chair opposite of me.

  “Lola and I were already sleeping for hours when I woke up to the sound of the telephone ringing,” he begins. “A few moments later, I heard noises, the flushing of a toilet, like in the morning when the house is waking up, except it was in the middle of the night. The phone rang again, and muffled voices came from down the hall.

  I got up and went into the living room. Dad was on the phone, and I never forget his agitated voice. I knew something big was happening. I asked Mom what was going on, and she whispered to me I had two cousins, a boy and a girl, twins, and they were coming to stay with us for a while.”

  “Did Max and Louise know about us?”

  Mac denies with a shake of his head. “They were just as surprised. Lola and I knew we had an aunt living in a far and exotic country, but there was never any contact, and her name was never mentioned in the presence of our granddad. They had a complex relationship.”

  “Maximilian was a control freak, a domineering control freak. Even to us grandchildren.”

  Mac chugs his beer, nodding. “I remember he made me do all kinds of chores in the hotel on a hot summer day, keeping me from going swimming with friends. He told me I needed to learn all about the hotel business, so I could someday take over as his oldest grandson. It was my duty to the family. I was freaking seven! I had no idea what he was talking about. Mom was so mad at him when she found out.”

  “I wonder if he had any feelings at all.”

  “He felt for his company; not so much for his family. His sons had a tough time, but at least they liked the business. Your mother never asked for her own hotel, probably why she left in the first place.”

  I open my leather jacket and remove the picture from the inside pocket. “Yeah, she went to India,” I say, and toss the picture onto the coffee table.

  Mac puts his bottle down and picks up the photograph. “Jesus.”

  “Yeah, looks like our cradle stood in Rishikesh. Never heard of the damn place before, and all of a sudden it’s my country of origin. The fucking yoga capital of the world.”

  “She was into yoga, I remember that. She had this friend who came over and practiced yoga with her. They came over a few times with their yoga mat and all, and did their moves right here in the living room. My mom never got the hang of it.”

  “That’s right. You remember her name, or where she came from?”

  “Let me think. Maybe it’ll come back.” He taps on the picture. “This is exactly how I remember you when I first saw you that
night. You were so small and shy, hiding behind your mother when you saw us.”

  “And Jaz?”

  Mac sighs. “Jaz was admitted to a hospital as soon as your plane touched ground.”

  My head drops to my chin. “She was sick?”

  “She got infected by a bug that entered her bloodstream. It was pretty serious, but she put up a tough fight.”

  “Christ.”

  “It took her six weeks to recover, but she made it. By the time she came home, you and your mother had moved to your own apartment down the hall. Suite 63.”

  I drop my head into my hands, massaging my forehead as I think of how close I came to losing my twin sister.

  “I’m sorry, man. I know this must be intense.”

  I look up. “Yeah, it kind of knocks the wind out of you.”

  “Your mother came back because Jaz was sick. She saved her daughter’s life by doing that. Whatever happened after that, at that moment, she did what a mother should have done. Your mother cared for you.”

  “Well, I have a pretty good idea what happened after that.” I reach into my pocket and hand Mac the note.

  He starts reading, and a look of shock registers on his face.

  “That confirms it, right? She killed herself. Couldn’t take it anymore. Don’t people leave notes before they end their lives?”

  Mac blows out his breath, studying the note. “A few things stand out, like she feels guilty about what she’s about to do. She can’t find happiness in this life, and that she wants only the best for you and Jaz, and that’s impossible as long as she’s part of your lives. Maybe you could have it checked by someone who specializes in these things, I don’t know. These points could refer to a possible suicide.” He hands the note back to me. “I’m sorry, man. This is brutal. Where did you get this? I mean, it’s addressed to my father, but I never knew it existed. This note could be the very reason the family announced your mother dead to the press, that she committed suicide, even though we never found her body.”

  I nod. “That’s what I thought too. Your father must have been in the know.” I release a deep sigh. “Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us. I’ll inform Jaz when she gets back from Europe. Not doing this over the phone.”

  “I hear you. I just wonder why my parents kept this from you. Don’t you want to find out?”

  “Yes, I do, but I’m sure your father had his reasons. We were still young.”

  Mac cocks his head. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  I pick up the bottle and pry off the top, tipping back the beer. “The rest isn’t important.”

  “Where did you find the picture and the letter?”

  “Mac, let it rest, okay?”

  “You can trust me, Josh. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah.” I chug more beer and put down the bottle, then take the other letter from my inside pocket and toss it on the table. If I don’t pay up, and the suicide note gets released to the press, it involves the family too. I can’t keep this information to myself.

  Mac unfolds the letter. “What’s this?”

  “Either a sick joke or our worst nightmare.”

  “Fucking hell,” he utters, eyes widened.

  “Yep, my thoughts exactly.”

  “When did you get this?”

  “Last Friday, but I forgot about it. I found it in the back of my pants this morning. It was left by a guest.”

  “A guest who went through my father’s drawers, apparently.”

  “Or had access to his safe.”

  Mac tosses the letter away and sucks in a deep breath as he gets up. He walks toward the window and stares outside for a while in silence.

  “Say something.”

  He turns back, his brown eyes dark and angry, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “Someone is shaking us down.”

  “Yeah, 500 fucking thousand dollars.”

  “Make that a million.”

  I shake my head, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I got the same letter.”

  “Come again?”

  “Well, same letter, same amount, different felony.”

  I get up as well. “Are you saying we have more secrets?”

  “God, I hope not. We can blame this one on me.”

  “Then what the fuck did you do that’s worth $500.000 to keep their mouths shut?”

  Sighing, Mac walks to his desk, takes out a white paper, and hands it to me. “I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us too.”

  Hello Mac,

  It must be hard on you to be the head of the Vandenberg family, the one who runs the empire and the one who everyone depends on. I understand you need relief from time to time, so I’m not judging you about what you do to find it. Unfortunately, your presence at a private room at The Opera didn’t go unnoticed and was filmed.

  Anyway, let me get to the point. If you want to spare your family the shame of their CEO participating in a sex orgy, and if you want me to destroy the sex tape, you’ll have to pay me off. Don’t get me wrong; we won’t meet in person and neither will there be a physical transaction. You are going to pay me anonymously by using bitcoins. Send $500.000 to the receiving bitcoin address listed below. Payment must be received within thirty days from the date in this letter. If I haven’t received the bitcoin by then, I’ll go ahead and release the tape to a website with celebrity sex tapes. It would be a mistake to go to the cops, but don’t let me stop you.

  The clock is ticking, Mac!

  “Jesus Christ…” I look up at Mac, who’s just standing there with his hands tugged in his pockets. “An orgy, really? You get your rocks off by visiting sex parties? I thought you were busy running the fucking family empire?”

  “Let me get one thing clear. Yeah, I fucked up on a global scale, but it’s not what you think, okay? I’m not into orgies. Period.”

  “Then what’s the problem? Is there a tape or not?”

  “There’s a tape. I saw it.”

  “Is it bad?”

  He nods. “Bad enough. A week ago, I had dinner at The Opera with Hudson. We invited some women for drinks and went up to another, more exclusive part of the club on the highest platform.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been there when the club opened its doors. The upper circle, right?”

  “Yeah. There’s an attached private room. I’m sure you’ll manage to fill in the blanks on your own.”

  “A dark room?”

  “Yeah. Only exclusive club members know about it.”

  “And, of course, you have a free backstage pass. Hudson rents the fucking building from VIC. Has he turned The Opera into an exclusive sex club now?”

  Mac sits down on the couch. “Oh, come on, Josh. Every exclusive self-respecting club has a backroom. Every now and then I have drink inside the private bar, since it’s a more relaxed setting. I’m not interested in the attached room, never even went there before since I usually don’t engage in group sex, thank you very much. We had a drink and before I knew it, she was seducing me.” He runs both hands through his hair. “Fuck, I don’t know what got into me.”

  “That long, huh?”

  Mac flashes a small smile. “You can say that again.”

  “You think you were set up by this woman? By Hudson maybe, or someone at VIC?”

  “Hudson is my best friend; he would never betray me. The only thing I know is, this letter didn’t come from one of our printers. That’s all I’ve come up with.”

  “Well, since we can’t go to the police, we have only one option left; we pay.”

  Mac’s head shoots up. “The hell?”

  “We give them the money. After that, we find out who they are. I’m going to use the trust fund.”

  “No, you’re not. This is a family problem. VIC pays. If we pay.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “If we pay, they know we’re shakeable, and we can’t let that happen, Josh. Who’s next? Our sisters? Hannah and Tristan? God knows they had their fair sh
are of bull shit.”

  I point at the letters on the table. “That criminal leaves us no choice, Mac. They’re coming after us. Your father suffered two heart attacks, and still recovering. What will happen if he saw you publicly banging someone? You’re willing to gamble with your father’s life?”

  Mac circles the palm of his hand onto his forehead “Fuck, what a hot mess.”

  “Let’s take some time to let it all settle, okay?” I suggest as I pick up my stuff. “We don’t need to decide this minute.”

  “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  I get up from the couch. “I still want to talk to your dad about my mom, but he can never find out about this. I’ll make up a story, like I have dreams of a foreign country with mountains and rivers. He won’t suspect a thing. Let’s see if he opens up.”

  “Thanks. Listen,” he says as he walks me out. “I never told you about your past because it was up to your mother to do that. She asked us to never talk about what happened that night the three of you came to us, or that Jaz was sick. When she disappeared, my parents took over your upbringing. One time I asked Dad when he was planning to tell you and Jaz about your background, or if he knew something about your father. His answer was, when the time is right.”

  I laugh. “I guess that time hasn’t arrived yet.”

  “No. You and Jaz went through a difficult time, and then you went to juvie, and we had the kidnapping on our hands. When you came out, you needed to get your head straight first.”

  “I understand, Mac. Really. I don’t blame anyone. Your parents raised us as their own, and I’ll always be grateful for that. I guess it just didn’t matter anymore once we got more stable.”

  “Nonetheless, it’s your background. You have a right to know the truth.”

  “And we will, in time. Let’s deal with this fucker first.”

  “Come to Stockbridge for Christmas.”

  “Mac, come on, you know I’m not good at the whole I-Wish-You-A-Merry-Christmas thing.”

  “Then make an effort this year. We’ll have more time to put our heads together on the matter at hand, and find out if maybe one of the others received a letter they’re keeping to themselves.”