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While Frankie goes out to conquer Devil Valley I clean up the kitchen and return to my bedroom, taking care to be quiet so that my parents can sleep a little longer.
At first I sit at my desk and try to take an interest in some of my notes on the next issue of the Bulletin but I abandon that idea pretty quickly. I move to my bed and stare at the ceiling. The urge to confide in someone is overwhelming. There are certain topics that can’t be discussed with my little brother. Or my parents for that matter. This is a job for a friend.
Trina picks up on the second ring. “Cam! Girl, this better not be a butt dial.”
I smile. “Not a butt dial. Sorry, I forgot it was so early.”
“It’s fine. I was already awake and trying to figure out how to shove this boy off my body.” She groans and I hear a series of doors opening and closing on her end. “There, I escaped to the bathroom. What have you been up to over break?”
“A lot. I’ll tell you about it if you’ve got a minute to talk.”
“I have lots of minutes. Kent will probably sleep until noon. What’s up?”
I wrap myself in a blanket and stretch out on my bed. I’m still aching to hear any news at all from Ben but in the meantime no one should ever underestimate the healing power of pouring your heart out to a friend.
“Well, for starters I’m completely in love with Ben Beltran…”
Ben
The Devil Valley PD doesn’t quite know what to make of all this excitement. A drunken New Year’s brawl between cousins would have been their speed but a high stakes business world scandal is a little out of their league. After they take statements there’s no talk about any charges for the assault on Angus since it was self defense in my own house. They seem eager to turn the case over to the authorities in the state where the real crime occurred.
The murder of my father.
When my mother arrives she looks like a basket case and she weeps as she clutches me and then exclaims over my bruises. Then a sudden shift occurs and she becomes steely eyed and begins making demands. She wants a lawyer. And she wants to make some phone calls. She still has a direct number for Reginald, my father’s old friend, the former federal agent who helped us get new identities and a new beginning in Devil Valley. Within hours he arranges for us to be put on a flight to Coral Beach.
The original responding officer is still on duty and offers to drive us home. He goes off to get his car and my mother dashes to the rest room while I wait outside. The last time I looked at a clock it was ten a.m. That had to be at least an hour ago. I know Camden is waiting to hear from me but my phone battery has been dead for hours.
I’m watching the cloud covered sky and wishing for the moment when I get to hold my girl in my arms again when a sleek black car pulls up. Two serious looking men emerge and walk right into the police station without glancing at anyone. They kind of look like secret agents, sunglasses and all, but I’m not thinking that their presence has anything to do with me. Not until the back passenger door opens and my cousin Grey steps out.
I’d like to punch him in his puffy, pathetic face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He holds up a leather gloved hand. “My lawyers needed to have a word with the police chief.”
“Those guys are your lawyers?”
“They are.”
“Figures.” I exhale with disgust and glare daggers. “I wish he was dead.”
“He’s not.”
“I know.”
“He does have a severe skull fracture and perhaps some brain damage.”
“Bound to be an improvement.”
“I’m flying him to a real hospital as soon as the paperwork clears.” Grey says this with annoyance, as if he’s discussing a parking ticket. “I suppose the press will pick up the story.”
“I suppose they will.”
He looks at me. “Look, I know you hate my guts but I just want to tell you that I came here only planning to do right by you. And you can say whatever you want but it won’t stick. Whether anyone believes you or not, in the end it won’t matter.”
He’s saying that he has every confidence in the Drexler money and connections to make all this ugliness go away. That may be true. But I’m stepping up anyway. In what might be my last conversation with my cousin I render my final judgment.
“You believe me, Grey. You know what he is. What the family is. I wonder what kind of lessons you’re going to teach your own son.”
He flinches at that. I take some satisfaction in knowing that every word will stay in his head forever.
