NANOWRIMO STORY CHAPTER 16
Mar. 20th, 2007 12:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laylafic**~~NANOWRIMO STORY CHAPTER 16~~**
Entry word count: 7838
For Story Notes, click here.
Now on to Entry 17:
56.
The shit had hit the fan and it was not a pretty sight.
Michael could relate to Justin’s outrage at the fingerprints discovery. He shared that outrage himself. It was obvious to him that whoever that psycho was, he was playing a sick mind game to keep them all off balance—the way he’d kept them down in the tunnels, a week ago. Justin was jumpy as it was, before Carl made the mistake of saying that the police knew the fingerprints were a plant, and that they did not suspect Brian had anything to do with their presence on the axe, since they were fresh and Brian had been in the hospital all week long.
Justin had literally spun on Carl on hearing this, demanding to know if the police were going to suspect Brian if those prints hadn’t been fresh. Would they come after Brian with handcuffs if they’d been a week old?—he’s asked in disbelief. Carl had tried interrupting him but Justin, whose face had turned almost white with anger, had been in pure rant mode. I was there when that madman came after me with that axe, he’d said. BRIAN was nowhere NEAR there, he’d yelled. By the time Carl had been able to get a word in, with some assistance from Mel and Michael who’d gripped Justin’s arms, he’d been nearly hyperventilating. Brian had almost died that night, he’d cried. Almost died.
It had taken the three of them a long time –and a lot of soothing words– to get Justin calmed down. Carl had said repeatedly, trying to assure him in so uncertain terms, that the police knew Brian had nothing to do with that axe. They was not suspecting Brian in any way, he’d said, and the fact that the psycho had left evidence for them to find could very well turn out to be a break in the case.
Not long after that, Lindsay had come down with Gus – ready to go home with Mel. They hadn’t said anything to her then but he knew she could tell something was up. Carl’s presence alone at that time of the night was clue enough that something new had happened. Mel had left with Lindsay and Gus after but Michael had stayed behind to keep an eye on Justin.
Before Carl left, Justin had repeated his instructions about not mentioning any of this to Brian at this point. Carl had argued for a moment about laying it all out in the open so that Brian could also get on the same page with the rest of them, but Justin had adamantly refused to allow anyone to burden Brian with any of this until he was ready to take that burden. He would himself tell Brian when it was time, he’d said, and not a moment before. So Carl had relented and promised he’d instruct everyone to keep mum in front of Brian until Justin had talked to him.
Michael understood Justin’s point and agreed they had to respect the fact that Brian was physically in a vulnerable condition right now. He knew Brian could not afford to take any stress. But he also knew how Brian was. Brian was so used to being in control all the time that Michael just knew he was going to be absolutely pissed off about being the last person to know the details. Especially when it was something as crucial as this situation.
Brian had to be updated soon.
He just hoped Justin would talk to him before it was too late.
57.
Ed Stanley loved the thrill of getting to the heart of a case.
Sunday morning had brought in new revelations to the police’s ongoing Crafton Theme Park investigation and Ed felt like he was finally coming close.
The axe was the first piece of evidence they’d found away from the tunnels. Theoretically, the further you got away from the scene of the crime, the less chance there was of finding evidence—especially evidence that wasn’t tainted. But the axe was the one thing they knew that had come in close contact with the suspect, and the probability of it being ‘cleaner’ than anything else found at the tunnels was still high. However, even after microscopic analysis, the only fingerprint they had been able to find was of Kinney, the victim, and since that was obviously a plant, all Ed could do was give kudos to the sharp criminal mind working against them and realized that the only thing now left to go on was the blood sample.
And that should’ve been a problem in itself. There were hundreds of thousands of registered blood donors in the country and unless there was something unique about the blood type and/or the sample they were searching for, the probability of finding a match from the millions of records in the FDA repository was next to impossible.
That was when Ed started to wonder if perhaps luck was really on their side.
The results for the blood type test from the sample came at six am on Sunday morning, revealing the sample to be type Sc-2, which was an extremely rare blood type common amongst less than one percent of the population. Ed called up the Bureau and before long, the local ARDP lab was running a search through their database in hopes of finding a probable match. By afternoon, they had names of all Sc-2 donors in the county, which was less than fifty in numbers, and they came across a familiar name.
Melina Sotheby.
It appeared that the missing Supervisor from the theme park had been a registered blood donor with the ARDP and her blood type matched the sample found on the axe. Since it was such a rare blood type, the probability of the blood coming from someone other than Ms Sotheby when both the subject and the object on which the blood was found were at the theme park that night, was quite low. They’d delivered both samples to the FBI crime lab for DNA testing and Ed was awaiting the final verdict anytime now. If the two samples matched then the possibility that Ms Sotheby had come to some sort of harm would become very strong and that once again would point fingers at the last person she was seen with before her disappearance.
"I’ve already told you," Craig Taylor said, his demeanor visibly distraught. "The last time I saw her was when she left me in the utility room to take the phone call. I never saw her again."
Ed stared at him. "What was the last thing she said when she left you in that room?"
"She didn’t say a word," Taylor replied. "She lead me to that room and I took the seat on the chair and when I turned around, she was closing the door behind me. I never saw her again."
They’d already covered that ground many times over but it was time Craig spilled the beans about what he was really hiding. Ed knew the man had not worked alone. That he was involved in this mess was now beyond doubt but they needed him to start talking now. They needed to know who the clown was and if Taylor knew him.
Ed looked closely at him. "So you really have no idea where the blood came from."
Taylor frowned. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"The blood on the axe, Craig," Ed said. "The blood that belonged to Melina Sotheby. On the same axe your son was attacked with only hours after you had what has been termed as a very disputative verbal disagreement with him, his boyfriend and your ex-wife."
Taylor swallowed hard. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
Ed lifted a brow. "You deny having the argument with Brian Kinney at the Melting Pot at approximately seven-forty pm on Halloween night?"
Taylor’s mouth curled in what appeared to be distaste. ""I don’t deny that but I don’t see what one thing has got to do with another."
Ed snorted. "Oh, you don’t see a link between your having an extremely public brawl with Brian Kinney at a local restaurant and then showing up at the same theme park his party had reservations for, only hours later, on the same night that culminated with your son getting attacked by someone branding an axe, and Mr. Kinney almost dying--"
"I don’t see how--" Taylor tried to speak.
But Ed cut him off. "--the same axe which then showed up stained with blood belonging to the woman who lead you to that utility room to take that phone call, and then apparently disappeared from the face of the planet."
"I have no idea where she--"
"Not to mention the fact that the nightclub behind which the said axe is found is owned by Mr. Kinney," Ed continued, "and it’s the same club in front of which you physically assaulted Mr. Kinney ten years ago for seeing your son."
Taylor scowled. "What has my disagreement with Kinney have to do with an axe which I’ve never even seen in my life before?"
Ed looked at him. "You’re saying you’ve never seen that axe before."
"I’ve never seen that axe in my life," Craig said emphatically.
Ed huffed. "And you have no idea how Ms Melina Sotheby’s blood got to be on it."
Taylor pursed his lips together. "I have no clue how anyone’s blood got to be on it."
Ed felt a wry smile form on his face. "Even though the last person to be seen with her, and this is recorded on cameras, Craig, the absolute last person to be seen with Ms Sotheby was you."
Taylor sighed. "I have no idea where she went from that room so how would I know what happened to her afterwards?"
They’d been going over it forever it seemed, so Ed decided to change gears—give Taylor something new to tackle. He looked into his eyes. "When was the last time you met Ms Lisa Payne?"
There was a flash of something that looked like recognition in Taylor’s eyes. "Who?"
Ed smiled. "Ms Lisa Payne. The Director of Strategy from Alton Inc. that your company had a deal with about six years ago. Alton invested in some of your equity at the time of signing that contract. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that."
"I know about the Alton deal." Taylor was frowning. "I initiated it myself. But what has that got to do with this situation?" He looked surprised at the diversion and Ed wondered how long he was going to keep up the charade.
He continued with the spiel. "Ms Payne made repeated visits to Pittsburgh during that first year. She met with you and several executives from your company on numerous occasions." He checked the notes he’d made even though he didn’t have to. The Taylor Electronics history was an interesting read and he had all the relevant points memorized. "Your investment director, Stephen Cobbs, even helped her make several private equity deals in Pittsburgh during the same time."
"I am aware of that." Taylor looked at him with the same surprised look in his eyes. "Those were services provided on a gratis basis. I don’t see how that has got anything to do with this situation."
Ed pushed the notes away and looked up. "Do you know who Ida Frances Thompson is?"
Taylor stared at him blankly, no recognition this time. "Who?"
"Ida Frances Thompson," Ed repeated. "She is a ninety-two years old woman who is admitted in an old folks home in Brookfield, Massachusetts. She is Ms Lisa Payne’s Great grandaunt."
Taylor was scowling now. "And I am supposed to know her how?"
"That’s what I’m trying to figure out, Craig," Ed continued. "Because there is some very interesting history involved with old Ms Thompson, and the Crafton Theme Park. As it turns out that she owns 100% equity of the company that runs the theme park. And what’s even more interesting is that Ms Lisa Payne was the one who apparently set up the whole venture for her, with all the legal work and setting up of the board of directors who practically run the whole thing for her."
"What has that got to do--" Taylor began.
"--with you?" Ed interrupted. "Now, now, Craig. You can’t possibly tell me you see nothing unusual about the fact that Ms Ida Thompson, who’s been an Alzheimer’s patient for the past five years, and who has no inkling of what’s going on around her, bought this company in Pittsburgh, which was set up by Lisa Payne, her grandniece, who had apparently made some investments of her own on advise from your company’s investment director" He stared at Taylor. "You see nothing unusual with the fact that you are indirectly involved with the ownership of the theme park in which your son, with whom you share an acrimonious relationship for the past many years, and Brian Kinney, whom you profess to hate with a vengeance and whom you’ve physically threatened or attacked on more than one occasion--- were assaulted in a most debilitating manner."
The blank expression on Taylor’s face was slowly being replaced by what appeared to be shock. Craig Taylor appeared pale and sweat had broken out on his brow. Ed watched as he swallowed repeatedly, opened and closed his mouth several times as if he didn’t know what to say.
"Left you speechless, have I?" Ed asked.
"I--- I---" Taylor stammered. "I don’t--- have any idea what you’re talking about."
Ed smiled. "Somehow I knew that was going to be your answer."
58.
Brian didn’t know how he’d done it, but on Sunday evening, when Jennifer was going home after her visit, he actually managed to persuade Justin to go with her and rest for a few hours while he caught up with official matters with Cynthia.
This was the first time Justin had left the hospital in the past whole week and Brian was relieved. He didn’t like the way Justin was looking since last night. He didn’t know what it was but something had caused Justin to be even more on edge than he’d been before. He knew it was pointless to ask what it was, because Justin wouldn’t tell him anything. For reasons that were beyond Brian’s control, at the moment, Justin didn’t deem him strong enough to take whatever it was that was happening outside the confines of these walls. And he wasn’t the only one. Everyone in his convoluted over-protective family was acting like they had no choice but to treat him with the utmost caution and care just because he’d almost keeled over in the tunnels a week ago.
They were all fucking driving him nuts!
He knew what had happened. He knew what he’d faced. No one else understood what had happened better than he did. The others had only heard bits and pieces of the story but they didn’t know what had actually transpired. Brian wasn’t sure what exactly Melanie had seen but since he hadn’t really spoken to her much since waking up, he had no clue what was really up with her. The small portion of time when he’d supposedly interacted with her down in the tunnels was still a blank to him.
That left Justin, and Brian realized his lover was hiding more mysteries behind his cool façade than even Brian had to offer. In a way, Brian could understand. He knew that craving, that burning, desperate need to protect and shield and keep from harm the one that meant the most to him. He’d been there himself years ago. In fact, he went through it every time he left Justin to come back to Pittsburgh or saw him off at the airport. So even though a part of him felt isolated, felt as if he was being forcibly quarantined for his own supposed good when he himself didn’t think there was any need for it, he could still in a way relate. Justin’s protectiveness of him only made him want to protect Justin more. He knew he couldn’t afford to be complacent anymore. He’d failed once and he was damned if he was going to be caught unprepared again.
That was why Cynthia was here. He couldn’t let anyone else get the wind of it—not even Theodore. Ted was sincere and had always been a reliable friend to him but Brian didn’t trust him not to blab in front of Justin or the others out of some fucked up sense of concern. Cynthia’s loyalty was only to him and he knew he could trust her implicitly when it came to his personal matters.
Although, he figured Justin had given Cynthia the whole dos and don’ts list of what she could say in front of Brian before he left him in her care—for she didn’t seem any more forthcoming about anything other than business than Ted had. But then Justin had probably assumed it was just Kinnetik business Brian had wanted to talk with Cynthia, so he figured they were even. Not that Justin was completely mistaken. Cynthia had brought files on the most critical accounts Brian had been working on before all this shit happened but that was stuff he’d already been updated on by Ted. But Justin didn’t have to know he had other reasons for enlisting Cynthia’s help. At least not yet. Everything Brian was doing was for Justin anyway. He’d already fucked things up way too much as it was. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time. He couldn’t afford to let Justin down again.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Brian looked up from the documents he’d been perusing and into the face of the man sitting on the chair across from his bed. The noises from the hospital floor were muted through the closed door even though these were visiting hours. He wondered where Cynthia had gone. He hoped it wasn’t to the TV room with the old rundown set that was tuned to three channels showing reruns of fucking soap operas. She was going to get bored out of her fucking skull there. He looked down at the papers in his hand for a second and knew everything was in order.
The man’s name was Morris Sinclair and Brian had made use of his services a few times in the past. Brian considered himself a tough judge when it came to measuring performances but this guy had a good track record and Brian knew he could trust him with this. He nodded as he turned the pages one by one, affixing his signature on the dotted lines.
"Should’ve done this a long time ago."
The man looked at him closely. "You’re going to an awful lot of trouble to keep this arrangement secret." He frowned. "It would be so much better if you shared this with your partner."
"It’s not time yet." Brian took in a deep breath. "Besides, he’ll find out eventually."
The man chuckled. "I’m not sure what to think of your fatalistic attitude, Brian."
"I don’t pay you to question my attitude." Brian glared at him. "I just want you to get the job done."
"This is just routine stuff and you know it." The man shrugged. "I thought you’d called me here for something a little more challenging than this."
"I do have a few others tasks in mind for you," Brian said.
The man straightened up on his chair. "I am listening."
Brian looked at him a few moments and then swallowed heavily. "I want you to find someone for me."
The man asked: "Who?"
Brian kept his voice calm even though he could feel that niggling sense of anxiety begin in his chest again. "I don’t know who he is," he said, taking in a deep breath. "All I know is that he’s the reason I’m here and everything’s fucked up in my life. But no one is telling me anything."
The man watched him. "And you want me to find out what they aren’t telling you."
Brian nodded.
The man shook his head. "This isn’t my job and you know it."
"But you could find someone who can do this job," Brian said. "Someone who could do the research for me, dig up the facts."
He watched the man watch him closely and tried to keep that nagging twinge at bay. He could handle this. He had to handle this. The man tapped his chin thoughtfully for moment and then Brian saw a frown appear between his brows. "You realize there is probably a good reason why they aren’t telling you anything, right?"
Oh no, not him too. Brian felt his teeth grit. "Why?" he snapped. "Because I had a mock-coronary and nearly died a week ago? I wish I could claim I was blissed out by my ignorance but it obviously isn’t helping. I need to know what’s going on." He stared at the man. "I can’t afford to get caught unaware again."
The man looked at him coolly. "But what about their unawareness? What about Justin’s?"
Brian felt his brows knit together. "This is for him. This is a good thing."
The man smiled wryly. "Then why don’t you tell him you’re doing it?"
Brian shook his head. "The timing isn’t right. He’ll jump to the wrong conclusions." And then there will be drama and Brian had no time to handle dramas at this point.
The man smiled. "They might be thinking the same of you."
The door suddenly opened and Cynthia poked her head in. "Boss," she said. "Just to warn you, Lindsay has arrived. She’s on her way up."
Fuck.
"I guess that’s my cue to leave." The man got up. Brian watched him move to the door.
"You heard what I said," he called out. "Get me someone you trust."
The man nodded to Cynthia who held the door open for him but paused before he stepped out. "You should talk to Justin," he said. "Share this... whatever this is... with him. You owe him the truth." And then he was gone, the door closing behind him.
Brian listened to the muted near-silence for the few spare moments he had before he would be invaded upon once more. But only one thought looped through his head as he watched the closed door
What about the truth that I am owed?
But he had no answers.
None whatsoever.
59.
Theresa Taylor couldn’t believe what a mess her life was at the moment.
A few weeks ago, her life had been almost manageable. The pace of activity in the Taylor household was steady and sane with the occasional crests and troughs that followed the course of their journey, her sails still intact, the winds still stable.
And then Halloween night had happened. Craig had had that confrontation with his son and ex-wife at the restaurant followed by their trip to that haunted place, and since then, Theresa felt as if her life had been caught in a whirlwind that was spinning everything out of control. Craig had been closed off from everyone, literally impossible to talk to. He’d been spending late nights at the office and he wasn’t telling her anything, even though she could tell something was horribly wrong. She wished they’d never gone to that theme park in the first place because she knew something had happened there.
Still a part of her felt that wasn’t where it had started. Things had been uncertain even before then. Craig had become incommunicable a few days before that night and she’d been restless, feeling it in her gut that something was unraveling. Only she hadn’t realized how bad it was going to get.
Well, they had cops in their home now and she couldn’t really imagine it getting any worse than this.
They’d showed up right when the two of them were settling down for dinner. It was Monday night and she’d already put Matty to bed because of it being a school night—a fact she was now most grateful for. She couldn’t imagine what her little son would’ve thought of this latest fiasco. Craig had come late from the office as usual but she’d been waiting up for him, her own appetite not what it used to be due to the stress of the last few days. Well, seeing the police at her doorstep had finally shot it to hell. Craig had turned white when he’d seen them but she almost felt as if he wasn’t really surprised at their arrival. It was as if he’d almost been expecting them. She wondered if they’d showed up at the office previously and that troubled her greatly. There had been a time when Craig used to tell her everything that happened but now she felt like an outsider, like someone he couldn’t trust to share things with. She’d never felt this helpless in her life before.
From what little she’d managed to catch before they’d pulled him into the study and closed the door behind them, they were here to search his personal files because a discrepancy had been found in some of Taylor Electronics records. What had Craig done now? How was Brian Kinney involved in all this? And what was that about some missing woman who used to work at the theme park? She just didn’t understand what was going on.
She sat on the dining chair and stared at the closed study door. She wondered what was going on inside. Were they going through Craig documents? Would they find something they weren’t supposed to? She felt her brows knit in worry. What had Craig gotten himself into?
Well, once the police left, Theresa was going to have a talk with him. She was not going to put up with his silence anymore. She was his wife and he was going to tell her exactly what was going on.
She hoped he’d be in a receptive mood.
60.
"Dad hired a private investigator to dig up Brian’s past?"
Debbie paused in the doorway of the kitchen and closed her eyes for a moment, as the incredulous voice rose in volume with every syllable. She wondered who had told Justin about this. Jennifer had mentioned this little fact in passing just the other day at the Diner but it seemed she’d never told her son about his father’s shenanigans. Well, it was all out now. Debbie took a deep breath, gripped the tray and stepped inside the living room.
"He was hell-bent in trying to prove Brian a child molester, Justin," Jennifer was saying, her voice strained. "You know how he was in those days."
Justin was pacing in the room. "And you never told me this because?"
"Honey, I---" Jennifer stammered. "---there was so much going on in those days. I didn’t know how--- to tell you."
"Or maybe you didn’t tell me because you agreed with Dad’s attitude." Justin was practically foaming at the mouth. "Maybe you advocated Dad’s insanity because you couldn’t fucking stand Brian yourself."
Debbie interrupted, "Hey Sunshine, watch your mouth there." She walked up to him and looked into his eyes. "No one here advocated your dad’s hatred towards Brian, but you have to consider the timing of those events. Your dad was fucking crazy in those days—attacking Brian, kicking you out of your own fucking house. Your mom tried to do everything she could to help you but she couldn’t always stop Craig when he went overboard."
"But she could’ve told me he was up to this." Justin scowled, his teeth biting his lower lip, his tone still accusatory. "She could’ve told me he had a private detective digging up things about Brian."
"Justin, you’re right, maybe I should’ve." Jennifer turned to him. "If not at that point, then later on, at some other time." Her eyes were tired. "But to be honest, I never got the chance." She sighed deeply. "I certainly never hid it from you on purpose. And you know how I feel about Brian now. Things may have been different back then, but I love Brian now." She looked at her son imploringly and then she lifted her head. "And you know that I never supported Craig’s violence even back then."
Justin stared at her for a while, his eyes searching hers as if looking for the truth, and then he pressed his lips together. "Brian never had anything to hide. Not back then and not now. He’s always lived his life the way he has without any regrets or apologies." There was a strange sense of pride in his tone that seemed unyielding, and Debbie had a feeling this was what had seen these two boys through all these years—their staunch faith in each other. She suddenly found herself wishing it was enough to see them through this current crisis as well. "It would’ve been a waste of time," Justin said. "What could he have possibly found through a private investigator?"
"Apparently quite a bit."
They turned to see Carl walk through the main door, closing it behind him.
"Honey?" Debbie asked, feeling Justin stiffen next to him, and tried to quell the feeling that it was already getting worse.
Carl looked at Justin. "The police got the name of the man Craig had appointed ten years ago to dig up Brian’s past and they tracked him down last night. Apparently he has quite a reputation and Craig paid him good money to find everything he could about Brian’s life."
"What did he find?" Justin frowned.
"The usual stuff. Ran background checks looking for possible criminal records, arrests, convictions. Didn’t find anything there so he went for bankruptcy filings, lawsuits. He managed to dig up Brian’s financial records, his credit card bills from those years," Carl went on without stopping, acknowledging the rising tension in the room but also realizing he had to let it all out in one go. "Craig had a special emphasis on Brian’s promiscuity angle for reasons we’re well aware of, so the guy went all out in digging into Brian’s sex life. Had him followed day and night, for several months, had a list of all the guys they could track that Brian had sex with, a list that literally went into hundreds of names, until Craig finally lost interest or realized it was costing him too much money and it all came to an end."
"Oh my God," Jennifer cried. "This went on for months?"
"Yes." Carl nodded. "It started in October 2000 and went on till April/May of the next year."
Right till the prom, Debbie thought. It ended when Justin got bashed.
"Where is all this data?" Justin’s teeth were gritted as he asked, his nostrils flaring. "With Craig?"
"Yes. He still had the dossier he was provided all those years ago," Carl replied and Justin sucked in a breath, his scowl deepening. "The police ‘borrowed’ it from him last night before they made the trip to the private-eye’s office. However, their meeting with the guy revealed something interesting."
Justin looked at him. "What?"
Carl took in a deep breath. "As part of their contract, the guy provided all the information he deemed relevant to Craig in a concise format. Since his investigation went on for several months, he collected a huge amount of raw data, most of which had no relevance to what Craig was looking for. Things about Brian’s travel records, his business expenditures, his bonus structure from Ryder’s, his family background. None of that was stuff that Craig was looking for, because his requirement was only to prove Brian as a lawless, immoral, sexual offender." A frown appeared on Carl’s face. "When the police questioned the man last night, he told them that around five years ago, he had a break-in in his office in which he reported many of his old client’s records stolen. All the data on hardcopies, videos, audiotapes, computer files, photographs. Everything he reported was either stolen or erased and destroyed. The police looked up their records and his claim was verified. He had reported a break-in on October 16, 2005."
"And Brian’s file was one of the records stolen?" Justin asked.
"Brian’s file was the only record stolen," Carl said. "He said he’d only reported ‘many files stolen’ because that sounded good on paper when filing a police report. But in truth, the only thing taken from that office was everything he’d ever collected on Brian in those seven months."
"Jesus!" Debbie exclaimed. "Who could’ve done that?"
They watched each other for a few long moments, lost for words. Who stole Brian’s records from the private detective’s office? Was it the same man who’d attacked them in the tunnels? How was Craig involved in all this? And how did Brian and Justin tie up in all this mess? There were so many questions and every time they found something new, more mysteries cropped up.
And then Justin moved. They watched as he picked up his jacket from the couch and the satchel he’d brought with him from the hospital and turned to the door.
"Justin, where are you going?" Jennifer asked.
"Back to the hospital, Mom," he said without stopping. "I told Brian I’d only be gone for an hour, and he’s waiting for me."
"Honey, Brian sent you here himself," Jennifer said, her voice filled with worry. "He wanted you to rest up and you just got here."
"I don’t know why Brian keeps forcing me to come here." Justin shook his head. "I can rest just as well in the hospital."
"Sunshine," Debbie said. "Coming home for a few hours every day is good for you. Better than staying cooped up there all day."
"And you haven’t even eaten anything yet," Jennifer said. "At least have lunch."
"Mom," Justin paused for a moment to look at his mother. "They said they need to run a few more tests today and then they’ll decide how soon they can release him. Brian is coming home soon and I told his doctor I’d like to speak to him about his post-release care." He opened the door. "I’ll see you guys later. He moved to step out just as Carl’s phone rang and something in his voice made Justin pause in the doorway.
They all watched as a frown grew on Carl’s face as he spoke on the phone for a few minutes. Finally, he ended the call and turned to them.
"Craig Taylor gave someone up," he said.
"What?" Jennifer exclaimed. "Who?"
"I don’t have the details yet," Carl said. "They have him down at the station right this minute, making the confession."
61.
When Craig Taylor talked, his revelations, at first, left everyone incredulous.
Who wanted to believe the incredible tale about some guy named Henry Stanford Junior who’d been working at Taylor Electronics for the last five years as an Electrical Engineer and who had turned out to be a psychopathic freak who’d gone on to attack Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor in the tunnels at the Crafton theme park? Surely Craig Taylor was trying to elude the police and pin the blame on someone else. Why would some guy who worked at Craig’s company, who’d never met Brian and Justin before, want to hurt them? What score could he possibly have against them?
The thing was Craig couldn’t say what that score was either. All he had to offer was that Henry was a psycho who’d been the one to give him the tickets for the Crafton theme park Halloween show. And he insisted it was his voice he’d heard on the phone in the utility room, as the images from the blocked tunnels had been relayed through the projector and played on the wall in front of him.
What the police knew was this:
Henry Stanford Junior was a gadgets geek who seemed to lead a nondescript social life with many acquaintances yet few friends. Nobody at his company had much of an opinion about him–either good or bad. He was an efficient worker who did his job well but he was someone who didn’t hang around much with others and had a reputation of being a loner. According to rumor, he’d been married for many years before his wife left him and he’d become even more reclusive since that incident. Other than the fact that he was a brilliant engineer, no one really knew who Henry was.
What Craig was saying would make no sense except for a few things that the police found interesting:
Henry had left for the Caribbean on vacation on November 1, 2010 – exactly the day after Halloween. There was no answer on the number he’d left behind for use in case of emergencies and that would be okay too, if only the police hadn’t done their legwork. They checked the Delta Air bookings for flights leaving for Bridgetown, Barbados on November 1 and Henry’s name was on the list, so the ticket had been booked. Further enquiry revealed that a boarding pass had been issued in the passenger’s name at Pittsburgh airport and the luggage boarded onto the plane. So Henry had been on the flight and after two connections at NYC and San Juan, he’d gotten off at Bridgetown at 2040 that night.
After that the trail went cold.
He’d been booked to stay at a small resort in Hastings but he never made it there. Where he went to after he landed at Bridgetown, no one knew.
And that wasn’t all.
Craig Taylor’s story would still fall on deaf ears if it weren’t further exacerbated by his own admission that Henry was a staunch homophobe who passionately agreed with Craig’s and Taylor Electronics’ anti-gay standpoint. He was one of the members of the company who’d actively participated in the promotion of Proposition 16 five years ago and since then had aggressively donated to similar causes – undeniably registering on Craig’s radar since that time because of their similar beliefs. His name was on the list of employees the PD had prepared during their investigation for this very reason.
But this still didn’t explain the score against Brian Kinney. Unless there was something seriously fucked up with Henry.
His professional credentials showed his genius with both electrical wiring and wireless gadgetry – skills that could’ve been used in the Crafton theme park set up. How he was involved in the theme park, the police didn’t know, but his homophobic viewpoints, his specific skill set, the fact that three people had been attacked and one more was now missing, and finally Craig’s disclosure about being blackmailed by Henry since the Halloween incident, gave them the probable cause they needed to get in front of a judge and ask for a search warrant.
But when they got to Henry’s place, nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary.
The hedges were neatly trimmed, the grass freshly mowed, and the picket fence around the painted white. There was a late model Honda Odyssey parked in the garage and the small driveway was neatly paved with cobblestones. Everything about the house seemed perfect. There was a very white-collar family man vibe about the whole place, which perhaps seemed a little peculiar for a man who didn’t have any kids and had been single for the past four or five years, but which still didn’t prove Henry had anything to do with what had happened on the night of Halloween.
The police needed to find something, anything, that would tell them Henry was somehow involved in all this mess. They needed to build on their probable cause. They needed evidence that would link the incident at the theme park with the man named Henry Stanford Junior. But as they walked through the spotless rooms of Henry’s house, as they went through the den and into the kitchen with everything arranged in its proper place, as they glided into the TV room with the family albums set neatly on the shelves, nothing screamed criminal to them. Everything seemed normal. Plain and clean and absolutely orderly.
It seemed they’d gone through all this trouble for no good reason.
They were at a dead end.
62.
Jennifer Taylor had stopped expecting things from her ex-husband a long time ago.
They’d shared an acrimonious relationship ever since Justin had come out ten years ago. The divorce had been bitter, and the many battles over custody and money issues over the years had turned things sour between them with every new encounter.
But there were some things that didn’t require lifetime warranty cards to be deemed valid for use. Some things came with no expiry date stamped on their box because they were meant to be forever. Being a parent was like that. You never stopped being one, no matter how old or young your child was. It didn’t matter if the worst had happened between you and your children to make you think little of them, or them to think little of you. A parent’s love was never supposed to end. Never.
Perhaps if it had been his wife who’d opened the door, she might’ve been able to stall Jennifer for a moment, but as it was, Jennifer had literally steamrolled Craig into the living room the moment he appeared in the doorway.
"You saw him get attacked and you never told the police what happened?" she snarled.
"Jennifer."
"A psycho with an axe came after Justin and you saw it happen with your own eyes..." Jennifer stared at the man she’d once called her husband in disbelief. "And you never came out to the police?"
Craig looked consternated "He was a nutcase, Jennifer. I was afraid."
"Afraid?" Jennifer looked at his incredulously. "FOR WHAT?"
"For my family." Craig swallowed. "For my son."
"Isn’t Justin you son?" She stared at him. "Do you hate him so much that you would see him get attacked by a fucking PSYCHO and walk away from that scene without notifying the police?" She could feel her heart thundering in her chest. "THEY ASKED YOU QUESTIONS, CRAIG. It’s been almost ten days and that psycho’s been on the loose and YOU NEVER TOLD THE POLICE WHAT YOU KNEW?"
"Jennifer--"
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Terry appear in the doorway but Jennifer was on a roll now. Nothing could stop her. "Those rooms were filled with BLOOD, Craig... his boyfriend almost died.... And it apparently happened right in front of your eyes." Tears appeared in her eyes and she blinked them away. "You saw it happening right before you. You saw Justin get attacked. You saw Brian nearly die. Your son, those kids... were locked in there for hours and you saw it."
"Jennifer." Craig took a step forward but something on her face stopped him.
"I know you have no link left with me, Craig. We’re over. Kaput." She gritted her teeth. "But Justin is still your son. How could you do that? How could you KNOW the identity of the man who attacked your son, your own flesh and blood and not come to the police with that information?"
He shook his head. "I didn’t know how to--"
"You did it NOW so you could’ve done it THEN. Or was it only to save your own skin that you finally confessed?" She spit. "It wasn’t for Terry, or for Matthew and you know it. You did it to save your own FUCKING SKIN. You were scared they were going to throw you in jail and that’s why you came out and told them what you knew."
"No, Jennifer---"
"You’re a DESPICABLE MAN," she cried. "The worst kind of man. You have no heart, no soul, no feelings left for your own children. You only ever thought of YOURSELF, and YOUR FEELINGS, and how everyone’s actions made YOU LOOK in the eyes of everyone else. You never cared for what your CHILDREN were going through." She knew she was crying openly now but she couldn’t stop the tears anymore. There was something on Craig’s face that looked like regret, but Jennifer didn’t want to see it now. She couldn’t see it now. "You never came to see Justin when he was in the hospital and that should’ve been clue enough for me," she said. "But I was blind. I thought you still cared. I thought you still loved him. But I was wrong. You only loved yourself. You could only ever love yourself."
And with that she turned around, marched to the front door, pulled it open and staggered out of Craig Taylor’s perfect house. Her sight was blurred because of the tears and she lifted her arm to wipe her face on her sleeve as, with shaking hands, she tried to open her purse to get the car keys out.
"Jen!"
She looked up and saw Tucker standing in front of her and all the fight went out of her. She went to him, felt his arms close around her body and let the tears flow. She knew she was babbling something about love and Justin and my baby that didn’t make any sense but Tucker seemed to understand. He just kept whispering, it’s okay, you’ve got me, in her ears and in those whispers she found the strength to hold on, just a moment longer.
After what seemed like a lifetime but what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, she finally got the tears under control and looked up into his eyes. There was something in his expression which made her lose her breath for a second and then she swallowed hard.
"What is it?"
He gripped her hand firmly in his and replied, "That man the police is looking for. I’ve seen him."
She stared at him. "What are you talking about?"
"That man-- who attacked Justin and Brian, that Craig told the police about," Tucker said. "Carl brought his pictures to show us and I thought he looked familiar somehow. At first I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him, and then suddenly, it came to me."
"Where?" she asked, her heart beating fast.
Tucker bit his lips. "At the hospital."
"WHAT?"
"Last week when Brian had just been moved to the second floor room," Tucker said. "We were all visiting and I went to the TV Lounge for a little while. You came looking for me, remember? Molly had to be picked up from her friend’s place?" He looked into Jennifer’s eyes. "He was there with me. I spoke to him."
Jennifer’s eyes widened with terror. "Oh my God."
"Jen---"
"Oh my God," she repeated.
"Jen---" Tucker stared at her. "Whoever he is---" He swallowed hard. "--I don’t think he’s done with Brian yet."
********************
Next!
Entry word count: 7838
For Story Notes, click here.
Now on to Entry 17:
56.
The shit had hit the fan and it was not a pretty sight.
Michael could relate to Justin’s outrage at the fingerprints discovery. He shared that outrage himself. It was obvious to him that whoever that psycho was, he was playing a sick mind game to keep them all off balance—the way he’d kept them down in the tunnels, a week ago. Justin was jumpy as it was, before Carl made the mistake of saying that the police knew the fingerprints were a plant, and that they did not suspect Brian had anything to do with their presence on the axe, since they were fresh and Brian had been in the hospital all week long.
Justin had literally spun on Carl on hearing this, demanding to know if the police were going to suspect Brian if those prints hadn’t been fresh. Would they come after Brian with handcuffs if they’d been a week old?—he’s asked in disbelief. Carl had tried interrupting him but Justin, whose face had turned almost white with anger, had been in pure rant mode. I was there when that madman came after me with that axe, he’d said. BRIAN was nowhere NEAR there, he’d yelled. By the time Carl had been able to get a word in, with some assistance from Mel and Michael who’d gripped Justin’s arms, he’d been nearly hyperventilating. Brian had almost died that night, he’d cried. Almost died.
It had taken the three of them a long time –and a lot of soothing words– to get Justin calmed down. Carl had said repeatedly, trying to assure him in so uncertain terms, that the police knew Brian had nothing to do with that axe. They was not suspecting Brian in any way, he’d said, and the fact that the psycho had left evidence for them to find could very well turn out to be a break in the case.
Not long after that, Lindsay had come down with Gus – ready to go home with Mel. They hadn’t said anything to her then but he knew she could tell something was up. Carl’s presence alone at that time of the night was clue enough that something new had happened. Mel had left with Lindsay and Gus after but Michael had stayed behind to keep an eye on Justin.
Before Carl left, Justin had repeated his instructions about not mentioning any of this to Brian at this point. Carl had argued for a moment about laying it all out in the open so that Brian could also get on the same page with the rest of them, but Justin had adamantly refused to allow anyone to burden Brian with any of this until he was ready to take that burden. He would himself tell Brian when it was time, he’d said, and not a moment before. So Carl had relented and promised he’d instruct everyone to keep mum in front of Brian until Justin had talked to him.
Michael understood Justin’s point and agreed they had to respect the fact that Brian was physically in a vulnerable condition right now. He knew Brian could not afford to take any stress. But he also knew how Brian was. Brian was so used to being in control all the time that Michael just knew he was going to be absolutely pissed off about being the last person to know the details. Especially when it was something as crucial as this situation.
Brian had to be updated soon.
He just hoped Justin would talk to him before it was too late.
57.
Ed Stanley loved the thrill of getting to the heart of a case.
Sunday morning had brought in new revelations to the police’s ongoing Crafton Theme Park investigation and Ed felt like he was finally coming close.
The axe was the first piece of evidence they’d found away from the tunnels. Theoretically, the further you got away from the scene of the crime, the less chance there was of finding evidence—especially evidence that wasn’t tainted. But the axe was the one thing they knew that had come in close contact with the suspect, and the probability of it being ‘cleaner’ than anything else found at the tunnels was still high. However, even after microscopic analysis, the only fingerprint they had been able to find was of Kinney, the victim, and since that was obviously a plant, all Ed could do was give kudos to the sharp criminal mind working against them and realized that the only thing now left to go on was the blood sample.
And that should’ve been a problem in itself. There were hundreds of thousands of registered blood donors in the country and unless there was something unique about the blood type and/or the sample they were searching for, the probability of finding a match from the millions of records in the FDA repository was next to impossible.
That was when Ed started to wonder if perhaps luck was really on their side.
The results for the blood type test from the sample came at six am on Sunday morning, revealing the sample to be type Sc-2, which was an extremely rare blood type common amongst less than one percent of the population. Ed called up the Bureau and before long, the local ARDP lab was running a search through their database in hopes of finding a probable match. By afternoon, they had names of all Sc-2 donors in the county, which was less than fifty in numbers, and they came across a familiar name.
Melina Sotheby.
It appeared that the missing Supervisor from the theme park had been a registered blood donor with the ARDP and her blood type matched the sample found on the axe. Since it was such a rare blood type, the probability of the blood coming from someone other than Ms Sotheby when both the subject and the object on which the blood was found were at the theme park that night, was quite low. They’d delivered both samples to the FBI crime lab for DNA testing and Ed was awaiting the final verdict anytime now. If the two samples matched then the possibility that Ms Sotheby had come to some sort of harm would become very strong and that once again would point fingers at the last person she was seen with before her disappearance.
"I’ve already told you," Craig Taylor said, his demeanor visibly distraught. "The last time I saw her was when she left me in the utility room to take the phone call. I never saw her again."
Ed stared at him. "What was the last thing she said when she left you in that room?"
"She didn’t say a word," Taylor replied. "She lead me to that room and I took the seat on the chair and when I turned around, she was closing the door behind me. I never saw her again."
They’d already covered that ground many times over but it was time Craig spilled the beans about what he was really hiding. Ed knew the man had not worked alone. That he was involved in this mess was now beyond doubt but they needed him to start talking now. They needed to know who the clown was and if Taylor knew him.
Ed looked closely at him. "So you really have no idea where the blood came from."
Taylor frowned. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"The blood on the axe, Craig," Ed said. "The blood that belonged to Melina Sotheby. On the same axe your son was attacked with only hours after you had what has been termed as a very disputative verbal disagreement with him, his boyfriend and your ex-wife."
Taylor swallowed hard. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
Ed lifted a brow. "You deny having the argument with Brian Kinney at the Melting Pot at approximately seven-forty pm on Halloween night?"
Taylor’s mouth curled in what appeared to be distaste. ""I don’t deny that but I don’t see what one thing has got to do with another."
Ed snorted. "Oh, you don’t see a link between your having an extremely public brawl with Brian Kinney at a local restaurant and then showing up at the same theme park his party had reservations for, only hours later, on the same night that culminated with your son getting attacked by someone branding an axe, and Mr. Kinney almost dying--"
"I don’t see how--" Taylor tried to speak.
But Ed cut him off. "--the same axe which then showed up stained with blood belonging to the woman who lead you to that utility room to take that phone call, and then apparently disappeared from the face of the planet."
"I have no idea where she--"
"Not to mention the fact that the nightclub behind which the said axe is found is owned by Mr. Kinney," Ed continued, "and it’s the same club in front of which you physically assaulted Mr. Kinney ten years ago for seeing your son."
Taylor scowled. "What has my disagreement with Kinney have to do with an axe which I’ve never even seen in my life before?"
Ed looked at him. "You’re saying you’ve never seen that axe before."
"I’ve never seen that axe in my life," Craig said emphatically.
Ed huffed. "And you have no idea how Ms Melina Sotheby’s blood got to be on it."
Taylor pursed his lips together. "I have no clue how anyone’s blood got to be on it."
Ed felt a wry smile form on his face. "Even though the last person to be seen with her, and this is recorded on cameras, Craig, the absolute last person to be seen with Ms Sotheby was you."
Taylor sighed. "I have no idea where she went from that room so how would I know what happened to her afterwards?"
They’d been going over it forever it seemed, so Ed decided to change gears—give Taylor something new to tackle. He looked into his eyes. "When was the last time you met Ms Lisa Payne?"
There was a flash of something that looked like recognition in Taylor’s eyes. "Who?"
Ed smiled. "Ms Lisa Payne. The Director of Strategy from Alton Inc. that your company had a deal with about six years ago. Alton invested in some of your equity at the time of signing that contract. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that."
"I know about the Alton deal." Taylor was frowning. "I initiated it myself. But what has that got to do with this situation?" He looked surprised at the diversion and Ed wondered how long he was going to keep up the charade.
He continued with the spiel. "Ms Payne made repeated visits to Pittsburgh during that first year. She met with you and several executives from your company on numerous occasions." He checked the notes he’d made even though he didn’t have to. The Taylor Electronics history was an interesting read and he had all the relevant points memorized. "Your investment director, Stephen Cobbs, even helped her make several private equity deals in Pittsburgh during the same time."
"I am aware of that." Taylor looked at him with the same surprised look in his eyes. "Those were services provided on a gratis basis. I don’t see how that has got anything to do with this situation."
Ed pushed the notes away and looked up. "Do you know who Ida Frances Thompson is?"
Taylor stared at him blankly, no recognition this time. "Who?"
"Ida Frances Thompson," Ed repeated. "She is a ninety-two years old woman who is admitted in an old folks home in Brookfield, Massachusetts. She is Ms Lisa Payne’s Great grandaunt."
Taylor was scowling now. "And I am supposed to know her how?"
"That’s what I’m trying to figure out, Craig," Ed continued. "Because there is some very interesting history involved with old Ms Thompson, and the Crafton Theme Park. As it turns out that she owns 100% equity of the company that runs the theme park. And what’s even more interesting is that Ms Lisa Payne was the one who apparently set up the whole venture for her, with all the legal work and setting up of the board of directors who practically run the whole thing for her."
"What has that got to do--" Taylor began.
"--with you?" Ed interrupted. "Now, now, Craig. You can’t possibly tell me you see nothing unusual about the fact that Ms Ida Thompson, who’s been an Alzheimer’s patient for the past five years, and who has no inkling of what’s going on around her, bought this company in Pittsburgh, which was set up by Lisa Payne, her grandniece, who had apparently made some investments of her own on advise from your company’s investment director" He stared at Taylor. "You see nothing unusual with the fact that you are indirectly involved with the ownership of the theme park in which your son, with whom you share an acrimonious relationship for the past many years, and Brian Kinney, whom you profess to hate with a vengeance and whom you’ve physically threatened or attacked on more than one occasion--- were assaulted in a most debilitating manner."
The blank expression on Taylor’s face was slowly being replaced by what appeared to be shock. Craig Taylor appeared pale and sweat had broken out on his brow. Ed watched as he swallowed repeatedly, opened and closed his mouth several times as if he didn’t know what to say.
"Left you speechless, have I?" Ed asked.
"I--- I---" Taylor stammered. "I don’t--- have any idea what you’re talking about."
Ed smiled. "Somehow I knew that was going to be your answer."
58.
Brian didn’t know how he’d done it, but on Sunday evening, when Jennifer was going home after her visit, he actually managed to persuade Justin to go with her and rest for a few hours while he caught up with official matters with Cynthia.
This was the first time Justin had left the hospital in the past whole week and Brian was relieved. He didn’t like the way Justin was looking since last night. He didn’t know what it was but something had caused Justin to be even more on edge than he’d been before. He knew it was pointless to ask what it was, because Justin wouldn’t tell him anything. For reasons that were beyond Brian’s control, at the moment, Justin didn’t deem him strong enough to take whatever it was that was happening outside the confines of these walls. And he wasn’t the only one. Everyone in his convoluted over-protective family was acting like they had no choice but to treat him with the utmost caution and care just because he’d almost keeled over in the tunnels a week ago.
They were all fucking driving him nuts!
He knew what had happened. He knew what he’d faced. No one else understood what had happened better than he did. The others had only heard bits and pieces of the story but they didn’t know what had actually transpired. Brian wasn’t sure what exactly Melanie had seen but since he hadn’t really spoken to her much since waking up, he had no clue what was really up with her. The small portion of time when he’d supposedly interacted with her down in the tunnels was still a blank to him.
That left Justin, and Brian realized his lover was hiding more mysteries behind his cool façade than even Brian had to offer. In a way, Brian could understand. He knew that craving, that burning, desperate need to protect and shield and keep from harm the one that meant the most to him. He’d been there himself years ago. In fact, he went through it every time he left Justin to come back to Pittsburgh or saw him off at the airport. So even though a part of him felt isolated, felt as if he was being forcibly quarantined for his own supposed good when he himself didn’t think there was any need for it, he could still in a way relate. Justin’s protectiveness of him only made him want to protect Justin more. He knew he couldn’t afford to be complacent anymore. He’d failed once and he was damned if he was going to be caught unprepared again.
That was why Cynthia was here. He couldn’t let anyone else get the wind of it—not even Theodore. Ted was sincere and had always been a reliable friend to him but Brian didn’t trust him not to blab in front of Justin or the others out of some fucked up sense of concern. Cynthia’s loyalty was only to him and he knew he could trust her implicitly when it came to his personal matters.
Although, he figured Justin had given Cynthia the whole dos and don’ts list of what she could say in front of Brian before he left him in her care—for she didn’t seem any more forthcoming about anything other than business than Ted had. But then Justin had probably assumed it was just Kinnetik business Brian had wanted to talk with Cynthia, so he figured they were even. Not that Justin was completely mistaken. Cynthia had brought files on the most critical accounts Brian had been working on before all this shit happened but that was stuff he’d already been updated on by Ted. But Justin didn’t have to know he had other reasons for enlisting Cynthia’s help. At least not yet. Everything Brian was doing was for Justin anyway. He’d already fucked things up way too much as it was. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time. He couldn’t afford to let Justin down again.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Brian looked up from the documents he’d been perusing and into the face of the man sitting on the chair across from his bed. The noises from the hospital floor were muted through the closed door even though these were visiting hours. He wondered where Cynthia had gone. He hoped it wasn’t to the TV room with the old rundown set that was tuned to three channels showing reruns of fucking soap operas. She was going to get bored out of her fucking skull there. He looked down at the papers in his hand for a second and knew everything was in order.
The man’s name was Morris Sinclair and Brian had made use of his services a few times in the past. Brian considered himself a tough judge when it came to measuring performances but this guy had a good track record and Brian knew he could trust him with this. He nodded as he turned the pages one by one, affixing his signature on the dotted lines.
"Should’ve done this a long time ago."
The man looked at him closely. "You’re going to an awful lot of trouble to keep this arrangement secret." He frowned. "It would be so much better if you shared this with your partner."
"It’s not time yet." Brian took in a deep breath. "Besides, he’ll find out eventually."
The man chuckled. "I’m not sure what to think of your fatalistic attitude, Brian."
"I don’t pay you to question my attitude." Brian glared at him. "I just want you to get the job done."
"This is just routine stuff and you know it." The man shrugged. "I thought you’d called me here for something a little more challenging than this."
"I do have a few others tasks in mind for you," Brian said.
The man straightened up on his chair. "I am listening."
Brian looked at him a few moments and then swallowed heavily. "I want you to find someone for me."
The man asked: "Who?"
Brian kept his voice calm even though he could feel that niggling sense of anxiety begin in his chest again. "I don’t know who he is," he said, taking in a deep breath. "All I know is that he’s the reason I’m here and everything’s fucked up in my life. But no one is telling me anything."
The man watched him. "And you want me to find out what they aren’t telling you."
Brian nodded.
The man shook his head. "This isn’t my job and you know it."
"But you could find someone who can do this job," Brian said. "Someone who could do the research for me, dig up the facts."
He watched the man watch him closely and tried to keep that nagging twinge at bay. He could handle this. He had to handle this. The man tapped his chin thoughtfully for moment and then Brian saw a frown appear between his brows. "You realize there is probably a good reason why they aren’t telling you anything, right?"
Oh no, not him too. Brian felt his teeth grit. "Why?" he snapped. "Because I had a mock-coronary and nearly died a week ago? I wish I could claim I was blissed out by my ignorance but it obviously isn’t helping. I need to know what’s going on." He stared at the man. "I can’t afford to get caught unaware again."
The man looked at him coolly. "But what about their unawareness? What about Justin’s?"
Brian felt his brows knit together. "This is for him. This is a good thing."
The man smiled wryly. "Then why don’t you tell him you’re doing it?"
Brian shook his head. "The timing isn’t right. He’ll jump to the wrong conclusions." And then there will be drama and Brian had no time to handle dramas at this point.
The man smiled. "They might be thinking the same of you."
The door suddenly opened and Cynthia poked her head in. "Boss," she said. "Just to warn you, Lindsay has arrived. She’s on her way up."
Fuck.
"I guess that’s my cue to leave." The man got up. Brian watched him move to the door.
"You heard what I said," he called out. "Get me someone you trust."
The man nodded to Cynthia who held the door open for him but paused before he stepped out. "You should talk to Justin," he said. "Share this... whatever this is... with him. You owe him the truth." And then he was gone, the door closing behind him.
Brian listened to the muted near-silence for the few spare moments he had before he would be invaded upon once more. But only one thought looped through his head as he watched the closed door
What about the truth that I am owed?
But he had no answers.
None whatsoever.
59.
Theresa Taylor couldn’t believe what a mess her life was at the moment.
A few weeks ago, her life had been almost manageable. The pace of activity in the Taylor household was steady and sane with the occasional crests and troughs that followed the course of their journey, her sails still intact, the winds still stable.
And then Halloween night had happened. Craig had had that confrontation with his son and ex-wife at the restaurant followed by their trip to that haunted place, and since then, Theresa felt as if her life had been caught in a whirlwind that was spinning everything out of control. Craig had been closed off from everyone, literally impossible to talk to. He’d been spending late nights at the office and he wasn’t telling her anything, even though she could tell something was horribly wrong. She wished they’d never gone to that theme park in the first place because she knew something had happened there.
Still a part of her felt that wasn’t where it had started. Things had been uncertain even before then. Craig had become incommunicable a few days before that night and she’d been restless, feeling it in her gut that something was unraveling. Only she hadn’t realized how bad it was going to get.
Well, they had cops in their home now and she couldn’t really imagine it getting any worse than this.
They’d showed up right when the two of them were settling down for dinner. It was Monday night and she’d already put Matty to bed because of it being a school night—a fact she was now most grateful for. She couldn’t imagine what her little son would’ve thought of this latest fiasco. Craig had come late from the office as usual but she’d been waiting up for him, her own appetite not what it used to be due to the stress of the last few days. Well, seeing the police at her doorstep had finally shot it to hell. Craig had turned white when he’d seen them but she almost felt as if he wasn’t really surprised at their arrival. It was as if he’d almost been expecting them. She wondered if they’d showed up at the office previously and that troubled her greatly. There had been a time when Craig used to tell her everything that happened but now she felt like an outsider, like someone he couldn’t trust to share things with. She’d never felt this helpless in her life before.
From what little she’d managed to catch before they’d pulled him into the study and closed the door behind them, they were here to search his personal files because a discrepancy had been found in some of Taylor Electronics records. What had Craig done now? How was Brian Kinney involved in all this? And what was that about some missing woman who used to work at the theme park? She just didn’t understand what was going on.
She sat on the dining chair and stared at the closed study door. She wondered what was going on inside. Were they going through Craig documents? Would they find something they weren’t supposed to? She felt her brows knit in worry. What had Craig gotten himself into?
Well, once the police left, Theresa was going to have a talk with him. She was not going to put up with his silence anymore. She was his wife and he was going to tell her exactly what was going on.
She hoped he’d be in a receptive mood.
60.
"Dad hired a private investigator to dig up Brian’s past?"
Debbie paused in the doorway of the kitchen and closed her eyes for a moment, as the incredulous voice rose in volume with every syllable. She wondered who had told Justin about this. Jennifer had mentioned this little fact in passing just the other day at the Diner but it seemed she’d never told her son about his father’s shenanigans. Well, it was all out now. Debbie took a deep breath, gripped the tray and stepped inside the living room.
"He was hell-bent in trying to prove Brian a child molester, Justin," Jennifer was saying, her voice strained. "You know how he was in those days."
Justin was pacing in the room. "And you never told me this because?"
"Honey, I---" Jennifer stammered. "---there was so much going on in those days. I didn’t know how--- to tell you."
"Or maybe you didn’t tell me because you agreed with Dad’s attitude." Justin was practically foaming at the mouth. "Maybe you advocated Dad’s insanity because you couldn’t fucking stand Brian yourself."
Debbie interrupted, "Hey Sunshine, watch your mouth there." She walked up to him and looked into his eyes. "No one here advocated your dad’s hatred towards Brian, but you have to consider the timing of those events. Your dad was fucking crazy in those days—attacking Brian, kicking you out of your own fucking house. Your mom tried to do everything she could to help you but she couldn’t always stop Craig when he went overboard."
"But she could’ve told me he was up to this." Justin scowled, his teeth biting his lower lip, his tone still accusatory. "She could’ve told me he had a private detective digging up things about Brian."
"Justin, you’re right, maybe I should’ve." Jennifer turned to him. "If not at that point, then later on, at some other time." Her eyes were tired. "But to be honest, I never got the chance." She sighed deeply. "I certainly never hid it from you on purpose. And you know how I feel about Brian now. Things may have been different back then, but I love Brian now." She looked at her son imploringly and then she lifted her head. "And you know that I never supported Craig’s violence even back then."
Justin stared at her for a while, his eyes searching hers as if looking for the truth, and then he pressed his lips together. "Brian never had anything to hide. Not back then and not now. He’s always lived his life the way he has without any regrets or apologies." There was a strange sense of pride in his tone that seemed unyielding, and Debbie had a feeling this was what had seen these two boys through all these years—their staunch faith in each other. She suddenly found herself wishing it was enough to see them through this current crisis as well. "It would’ve been a waste of time," Justin said. "What could he have possibly found through a private investigator?"
"Apparently quite a bit."
They turned to see Carl walk through the main door, closing it behind him.
"Honey?" Debbie asked, feeling Justin stiffen next to him, and tried to quell the feeling that it was already getting worse.
Carl looked at Justin. "The police got the name of the man Craig had appointed ten years ago to dig up Brian’s past and they tracked him down last night. Apparently he has quite a reputation and Craig paid him good money to find everything he could about Brian’s life."
"What did he find?" Justin frowned.
"The usual stuff. Ran background checks looking for possible criminal records, arrests, convictions. Didn’t find anything there so he went for bankruptcy filings, lawsuits. He managed to dig up Brian’s financial records, his credit card bills from those years," Carl went on without stopping, acknowledging the rising tension in the room but also realizing he had to let it all out in one go. "Craig had a special emphasis on Brian’s promiscuity angle for reasons we’re well aware of, so the guy went all out in digging into Brian’s sex life. Had him followed day and night, for several months, had a list of all the guys they could track that Brian had sex with, a list that literally went into hundreds of names, until Craig finally lost interest or realized it was costing him too much money and it all came to an end."
"Oh my God," Jennifer cried. "This went on for months?"
"Yes." Carl nodded. "It started in October 2000 and went on till April/May of the next year."
Right till the prom, Debbie thought. It ended when Justin got bashed.
"Where is all this data?" Justin’s teeth were gritted as he asked, his nostrils flaring. "With Craig?"
"Yes. He still had the dossier he was provided all those years ago," Carl replied and Justin sucked in a breath, his scowl deepening. "The police ‘borrowed’ it from him last night before they made the trip to the private-eye’s office. However, their meeting with the guy revealed something interesting."
Justin looked at him. "What?"
Carl took in a deep breath. "As part of their contract, the guy provided all the information he deemed relevant to Craig in a concise format. Since his investigation went on for several months, he collected a huge amount of raw data, most of which had no relevance to what Craig was looking for. Things about Brian’s travel records, his business expenditures, his bonus structure from Ryder’s, his family background. None of that was stuff that Craig was looking for, because his requirement was only to prove Brian as a lawless, immoral, sexual offender." A frown appeared on Carl’s face. "When the police questioned the man last night, he told them that around five years ago, he had a break-in in his office in which he reported many of his old client’s records stolen. All the data on hardcopies, videos, audiotapes, computer files, photographs. Everything he reported was either stolen or erased and destroyed. The police looked up their records and his claim was verified. He had reported a break-in on October 16, 2005."
"And Brian’s file was one of the records stolen?" Justin asked.
"Brian’s file was the only record stolen," Carl said. "He said he’d only reported ‘many files stolen’ because that sounded good on paper when filing a police report. But in truth, the only thing taken from that office was everything he’d ever collected on Brian in those seven months."
"Jesus!" Debbie exclaimed. "Who could’ve done that?"
They watched each other for a few long moments, lost for words. Who stole Brian’s records from the private detective’s office? Was it the same man who’d attacked them in the tunnels? How was Craig involved in all this? And how did Brian and Justin tie up in all this mess? There were so many questions and every time they found something new, more mysteries cropped up.
And then Justin moved. They watched as he picked up his jacket from the couch and the satchel he’d brought with him from the hospital and turned to the door.
"Justin, where are you going?" Jennifer asked.
"Back to the hospital, Mom," he said without stopping. "I told Brian I’d only be gone for an hour, and he’s waiting for me."
"Honey, Brian sent you here himself," Jennifer said, her voice filled with worry. "He wanted you to rest up and you just got here."
"I don’t know why Brian keeps forcing me to come here." Justin shook his head. "I can rest just as well in the hospital."
"Sunshine," Debbie said. "Coming home for a few hours every day is good for you. Better than staying cooped up there all day."
"And you haven’t even eaten anything yet," Jennifer said. "At least have lunch."
"Mom," Justin paused for a moment to look at his mother. "They said they need to run a few more tests today and then they’ll decide how soon they can release him. Brian is coming home soon and I told his doctor I’d like to speak to him about his post-release care." He opened the door. "I’ll see you guys later. He moved to step out just as Carl’s phone rang and something in his voice made Justin pause in the doorway.
They all watched as a frown grew on Carl’s face as he spoke on the phone for a few minutes. Finally, he ended the call and turned to them.
"Craig Taylor gave someone up," he said.
"What?" Jennifer exclaimed. "Who?"
"I don’t have the details yet," Carl said. "They have him down at the station right this minute, making the confession."
61.
When Craig Taylor talked, his revelations, at first, left everyone incredulous.
Who wanted to believe the incredible tale about some guy named Henry Stanford Junior who’d been working at Taylor Electronics for the last five years as an Electrical Engineer and who had turned out to be a psychopathic freak who’d gone on to attack Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor in the tunnels at the Crafton theme park? Surely Craig Taylor was trying to elude the police and pin the blame on someone else. Why would some guy who worked at Craig’s company, who’d never met Brian and Justin before, want to hurt them? What score could he possibly have against them?
The thing was Craig couldn’t say what that score was either. All he had to offer was that Henry was a psycho who’d been the one to give him the tickets for the Crafton theme park Halloween show. And he insisted it was his voice he’d heard on the phone in the utility room, as the images from the blocked tunnels had been relayed through the projector and played on the wall in front of him.
What the police knew was this:
Henry Stanford Junior was a gadgets geek who seemed to lead a nondescript social life with many acquaintances yet few friends. Nobody at his company had much of an opinion about him–either good or bad. He was an efficient worker who did his job well but he was someone who didn’t hang around much with others and had a reputation of being a loner. According to rumor, he’d been married for many years before his wife left him and he’d become even more reclusive since that incident. Other than the fact that he was a brilliant engineer, no one really knew who Henry was.
What Craig was saying would make no sense except for a few things that the police found interesting:
Henry had left for the Caribbean on vacation on November 1, 2010 – exactly the day after Halloween. There was no answer on the number he’d left behind for use in case of emergencies and that would be okay too, if only the police hadn’t done their legwork. They checked the Delta Air bookings for flights leaving for Bridgetown, Barbados on November 1 and Henry’s name was on the list, so the ticket had been booked. Further enquiry revealed that a boarding pass had been issued in the passenger’s name at Pittsburgh airport and the luggage boarded onto the plane. So Henry had been on the flight and after two connections at NYC and San Juan, he’d gotten off at Bridgetown at 2040 that night.
After that the trail went cold.
He’d been booked to stay at a small resort in Hastings but he never made it there. Where he went to after he landed at Bridgetown, no one knew.
And that wasn’t all.
Craig Taylor’s story would still fall on deaf ears if it weren’t further exacerbated by his own admission that Henry was a staunch homophobe who passionately agreed with Craig’s and Taylor Electronics’ anti-gay standpoint. He was one of the members of the company who’d actively participated in the promotion of Proposition 16 five years ago and since then had aggressively donated to similar causes – undeniably registering on Craig’s radar since that time because of their similar beliefs. His name was on the list of employees the PD had prepared during their investigation for this very reason.
But this still didn’t explain the score against Brian Kinney. Unless there was something seriously fucked up with Henry.
His professional credentials showed his genius with both electrical wiring and wireless gadgetry – skills that could’ve been used in the Crafton theme park set up. How he was involved in the theme park, the police didn’t know, but his homophobic viewpoints, his specific skill set, the fact that three people had been attacked and one more was now missing, and finally Craig’s disclosure about being blackmailed by Henry since the Halloween incident, gave them the probable cause they needed to get in front of a judge and ask for a search warrant.
But when they got to Henry’s place, nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary.
The hedges were neatly trimmed, the grass freshly mowed, and the picket fence around the painted white. There was a late model Honda Odyssey parked in the garage and the small driveway was neatly paved with cobblestones. Everything about the house seemed perfect. There was a very white-collar family man vibe about the whole place, which perhaps seemed a little peculiar for a man who didn’t have any kids and had been single for the past four or five years, but which still didn’t prove Henry had anything to do with what had happened on the night of Halloween.
The police needed to find something, anything, that would tell them Henry was somehow involved in all this mess. They needed to build on their probable cause. They needed evidence that would link the incident at the theme park with the man named Henry Stanford Junior. But as they walked through the spotless rooms of Henry’s house, as they went through the den and into the kitchen with everything arranged in its proper place, as they glided into the TV room with the family albums set neatly on the shelves, nothing screamed criminal to them. Everything seemed normal. Plain and clean and absolutely orderly.
It seemed they’d gone through all this trouble for no good reason.
They were at a dead end.
62.
Jennifer Taylor had stopped expecting things from her ex-husband a long time ago.
They’d shared an acrimonious relationship ever since Justin had come out ten years ago. The divorce had been bitter, and the many battles over custody and money issues over the years had turned things sour between them with every new encounter.
But there were some things that didn’t require lifetime warranty cards to be deemed valid for use. Some things came with no expiry date stamped on their box because they were meant to be forever. Being a parent was like that. You never stopped being one, no matter how old or young your child was. It didn’t matter if the worst had happened between you and your children to make you think little of them, or them to think little of you. A parent’s love was never supposed to end. Never.
Perhaps if it had been his wife who’d opened the door, she might’ve been able to stall Jennifer for a moment, but as it was, Jennifer had literally steamrolled Craig into the living room the moment he appeared in the doorway.
"You saw him get attacked and you never told the police what happened?" she snarled.
"Jennifer."
"A psycho with an axe came after Justin and you saw it happen with your own eyes..." Jennifer stared at the man she’d once called her husband in disbelief. "And you never came out to the police?"
Craig looked consternated "He was a nutcase, Jennifer. I was afraid."
"Afraid?" Jennifer looked at his incredulously. "FOR WHAT?"
"For my family." Craig swallowed. "For my son."
"Isn’t Justin you son?" She stared at him. "Do you hate him so much that you would see him get attacked by a fucking PSYCHO and walk away from that scene without notifying the police?" She could feel her heart thundering in her chest. "THEY ASKED YOU QUESTIONS, CRAIG. It’s been almost ten days and that psycho’s been on the loose and YOU NEVER TOLD THE POLICE WHAT YOU KNEW?"
"Jennifer--"
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Terry appear in the doorway but Jennifer was on a roll now. Nothing could stop her. "Those rooms were filled with BLOOD, Craig... his boyfriend almost died.... And it apparently happened right in front of your eyes." Tears appeared in her eyes and she blinked them away. "You saw it happening right before you. You saw Justin get attacked. You saw Brian nearly die. Your son, those kids... were locked in there for hours and you saw it."
"Jennifer." Craig took a step forward but something on her face stopped him.
"I know you have no link left with me, Craig. We’re over. Kaput." She gritted her teeth. "But Justin is still your son. How could you do that? How could you KNOW the identity of the man who attacked your son, your own flesh and blood and not come to the police with that information?"
He shook his head. "I didn’t know how to--"
"You did it NOW so you could’ve done it THEN. Or was it only to save your own skin that you finally confessed?" She spit. "It wasn’t for Terry, or for Matthew and you know it. You did it to save your own FUCKING SKIN. You were scared they were going to throw you in jail and that’s why you came out and told them what you knew."
"No, Jennifer---"
"You’re a DESPICABLE MAN," she cried. "The worst kind of man. You have no heart, no soul, no feelings left for your own children. You only ever thought of YOURSELF, and YOUR FEELINGS, and how everyone’s actions made YOU LOOK in the eyes of everyone else. You never cared for what your CHILDREN were going through." She knew she was crying openly now but she couldn’t stop the tears anymore. There was something on Craig’s face that looked like regret, but Jennifer didn’t want to see it now. She couldn’t see it now. "You never came to see Justin when he was in the hospital and that should’ve been clue enough for me," she said. "But I was blind. I thought you still cared. I thought you still loved him. But I was wrong. You only loved yourself. You could only ever love yourself."
And with that she turned around, marched to the front door, pulled it open and staggered out of Craig Taylor’s perfect house. Her sight was blurred because of the tears and she lifted her arm to wipe her face on her sleeve as, with shaking hands, she tried to open her purse to get the car keys out.
"Jen!"
She looked up and saw Tucker standing in front of her and all the fight went out of her. She went to him, felt his arms close around her body and let the tears flow. She knew she was babbling something about love and Justin and my baby that didn’t make any sense but Tucker seemed to understand. He just kept whispering, it’s okay, you’ve got me, in her ears and in those whispers she found the strength to hold on, just a moment longer.
After what seemed like a lifetime but what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, she finally got the tears under control and looked up into his eyes. There was something in his expression which made her lose her breath for a second and then she swallowed hard.
"What is it?"
He gripped her hand firmly in his and replied, "That man the police is looking for. I’ve seen him."
She stared at him. "What are you talking about?"
"That man-- who attacked Justin and Brian, that Craig told the police about," Tucker said. "Carl brought his pictures to show us and I thought he looked familiar somehow. At first I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him, and then suddenly, it came to me."
"Where?" she asked, her heart beating fast.
Tucker bit his lips. "At the hospital."
"WHAT?"
"Last week when Brian had just been moved to the second floor room," Tucker said. "We were all visiting and I went to the TV Lounge for a little while. You came looking for me, remember? Molly had to be picked up from her friend’s place?" He looked into Jennifer’s eyes. "He was there with me. I spoke to him."
Jennifer’s eyes widened with terror. "Oh my God."
"Jen---"
"Oh my God," she repeated.
"Jen---" Tucker stared at her. "Whoever he is---" He swallowed hard. "--I don’t think he’s done with Brian yet."
********************
Next!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 09:14 pm (UTC)"Jen---" Tucker stared at her. "Whoever he is---" He swallowed hard. "--I don’t think he’s done with Brian yet."
I can't wait for the next installment!! You have me hooked!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 10:00 pm (UTC)As a mother and grandmother I could give you some advice about being "blocked", but I don't think that's what you had in mind.(snark)
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:32 pm (UTC)Hee. As for being blocked----sometimes I wish I had a mind-reading machine that could type everything that's 'playing' in my head. It can become difficult at times to translate what you're writing in your head to what ends up being written in the word doc. But its fun to try. ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 10:30 pm (UTC)"Whoever he is---" He swallowed hard. "--I don’t think he’s done with Brian yet."
OMG!! Make Justin get back to the hospital fast!! Please!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 10:40 pm (UTC)I love how Jen blasted Cowardly Craig--that was fabulous. It's a good thing that Tucker is alert and noticed who was in the hospital. Now maybe everyone can move forward, take action and catch this psycho.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 11:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 12:05 am (UTC)Congratulations on your recent work successes, too.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 01:36 am (UTC)I'm so happy you're continuing thing. And congratulations on your award!!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 02:02 am (UTC)Jennifer going over to Craig's house and calling him out was great and Tucker seeing the guy at the hospital, oh my god!
I can't wait for the next chapter :)
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 03:03 am (UTC)I can't believe you stopped there. I love Tucker.
There was a strange sense of pride in his tone that seemed unyielding, and Debbie had a feeling this was what had seen these two boys through all these years—their staunch faith in each other. She suddenly found herself wishing it was enough to see them through this current crisis as well.
Ah, very nice, that.
Thanks for giving me the update, btw! It went to my email and I came right over.
I love the whole dynamic of protective!Justin driving exasperated!Brian crazy. It's hilarious. Well, if it weren't so aggravating. But so canon.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:45 pm (UTC)I love Tucker too. It's nice to have Jen find a nice guy finally.
I love the whole dynamic of protective!Justin driving exasperated!Brian crazy. It's hilarious. Well, if it weren't so aggravating. But so canon.
Glad you enjoyed it. And happy that you found it in character.
Next chap's up!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:48 pm (UTC)Oh God, I love a good showdown, especially against people who deserve it. Craig definitely does, and I always thought he got off too damn easy on the show.
It's going to be interesting to see who finds Henry Stanford first.
All your questions are answered in the new chap which is up now! :)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 03:39 am (UTC)ahem. that was a great chapter! I can't wait for the next one.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 10:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 06:01 pm (UTC)This fic is driving me insane with mystery and intrigue and I don't want it to end yet I want the crazy!man to get his!
In the meantime I'm loving Strong!Jennifer and Weak!Craig both of which are so in character but I'm also worried about my boys, since the authorities still haven't got a clue how to get crazy!man.
Great Chapter...looking forward to the next installment...:)
Nicole
no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:53 pm (UTC)I am so glad you've enjoyed this story so far. The end is close now. A lot of your questions are answered in the new installment.
Thanks for sticking around!
no subject
Date: 2007-03-21 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-10 09:55 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading and enjoying this story!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-14 01:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-18 05:42 pm (UTC)