Finding Forever (21 page)

Get control.

Since the news about Taylor's supposed rehab stint broke on
STARSTALK
, Brooklyn felt like she had to take charge of the situation.

Though it was possible Simone wasn't lying to her, she feared she'd been duped, misled, manipulated. Lied to! The sick feeling this gave her only had one remedy.

Brooklyn got up and ordered Holden to leave her house. “Now. Please, just go.”

He did as she said and walked out the front door, no questions asked.

Then “it” began—the Fourmation.

She locked and unlocked the front door four times. Then she moved on to every doorknob in the house, twisting each four times, and counting out loud every time. She pressed the “4” button on the TV remote in the living room and arranged the bathroom in its proper order. She made sure the refrigerator temperature was set to “4” (it was) and pulled up the window shades in every room, leaving only four slats hanging down.

The Fourmation was the only thing that could prevent an inevitable calamity from occurring. Brooklyn's mom called it “OCD'ing.” but Brooklyn preferred “prevention.” No one understood the bullets she dodged by keeping her mind in order. No one ever could. Her system just worked.

A half hour or so later, with the Fourmation completed, Brooklyn placed four squirts of anti-bacterial lotion into her palm and rubbed her hands together, drying them with the friction. Only then did her heart stop its breathtaking palpitation.

Luckily she had never published any of the unverified lies Simone had given her. Very luckily. But regardless,
Deadline Diaries
, the supposed number-one online source of reporting on Taylor Prince for the last two years, had just been scooped by
STARSTALK
. And Brooklyn needed to right that wrong. ASAP.

She started by trying to confirm any details about Taylor's rehab stay with Taylor's publicist (no calls or emails returned) and the police (no record of visiting Taylor's address the night of her party).

Deadline Diaries
fans, meanwhile, had assaulted her Twitter feed with questions, asking if the
STARSTALK
report were true. All Brooklyn could do was tweet:

                      
Regarding Taylor P News: DD is investigating. Story developing . . .

Blip, blip!

Brooklyn took her phone from her pocket and saw Simone's text.

                      
the STARSTALK story is fake. Totally. I swear!

and why exactly should I believe u?

                      
because I am telling the Truth

When Brooklyn didn't reply, Simone continued her pleading.

                      
I know it looks bad, but Tay is NOT on drugs. Imposs! Trust me

prove it

                      
how? I need YOU to prove it for me . . . u can confirm . . . it's ur job right?

Simone did have a point. She was just one single source after all. A big story would have legal ramifications if Brooklyn
got it wrong and libeled someone, so she needed at least two independent sources.

Brooklyn had known this fundamental two-source rule since she was nine. Not from journalism school. Not from a textbook. Rather, from a movie.

Brooklyn's dad loved Robert Redford and the movie
All the President's Men
. Brooklyn and her dad had snuggled on the couch one night watching it on Netflix. “If I weren't a detective, I would have been a reporter,” her dad told her. And since her dad insisted he would never allow her anywhere near guns, Brooklyn decided right then and there she would be a reporter when she grew up.

Now Brooklyn starred in her own drama. If she could get another source independent from Simone to verify her story, then she could possibly believe Simone.

Until then, however, she sent Simone a text back.

                      
unsubstantiated gossip. sorry

fine. guess I'll just tip off some other blogger . . .

Brooklyn didn't want to lose the story. She couldn't.

                      
no. plz don't. just call me.

Twelve rings.

Dongggg. Dongggg. Dongggg. Dongggg.

The bell rang out from the apex of Casa Bell.

A self-satisfied smile on his face, Peter sat and drummed his fingers on his thigh in sync with each ring. Taylor couldn't take her eyes off the doctor's delicate, doll-like hands. His fingernails weren't the typical, stubby, male nails. Instead they were long and filed, jutting just beyond the fingertips, with perfectly smooth edges and a glossy sheen. They were as meticulously manicured as Taylor expected from a man who seemed obsessed with controlling every aspect of her life.