Hewitt: Jagged Edge Series #1 (21 page)

Reaching my mom's room, I knocked lightly on the door. When she didn't answer, I yelled, "I know you're in there, Mom. Open the door."

When the door opened, I saw the face of a woman who had no intention of putting her life back together. Her pupils were the size of marbles and her face was flushed. Pushing past her, I entered her room only to find a piece of aluminum in the shape of a spoon with a candle sitting beside it. Whatever was inside was gone. There was only a light brown residue left on the bottom.

"I thought you left?" I asked coldly.

"You aren't supposed to be here, Lillabell. That man of yours was supposed to convince you that I left," she said. "I told him I would keep my mouth shut."

"What are you talking about?" I questioned her confused.

"Your brother and how he really died."

"You know about that?"

"Yeah, and so does your boyfriend. After all, he was there."

I wasn't sure if I could believe what I was hearing. She was so strung out on drugs, she wasn't making any sense. "You aren't making any sense."

I watched with confusion as she walked to the night stand, grabbed the pack of cigarettes, and took one out. With shaky hands, she lit the cigarette and took in a deep breath. "Your boyfriend, that Peter fella, he was there when Adam died. They said your brother slipped and fell from that tree house and that Peter couldn't pull him up. Lies, all lies," she hissed, puffing her cigarette.

"What do you mean, Peter was there?" I asked.

"Ask your boyfriend. I've already said too much."

I watched with disbelief as she headed to the bathroom and closed the door. I couldn't believe that Peter would know Adam. How could he? I mean, what were the chances? Even though I didn't know about Peter's childhood, I knew he was a good person. Yes, he had his secrets, but this, this couldn't be true.

Leaving her room, I headed back to the truck where Cop was standing. My emotions were all over the place. Cop knew something was up. Looking him straight in the eye, I asked, "Did you know she was still here?"

Shaking his head and looking off to his right, unable to face me, he nodded, saying, "Yeah."

~****~

The ride to Peaceful Groves Cemetery was the longest ride I had ever taken in silence. I was so angry with Peter for lying to me that I didn't have any words to share with Cop. I knew Cop was only doing his job, but he should have said something the minute I asked him to take me to the motel.

I had no idea where my brother was buried, so I had Cop pull up to the groundskeeper’s office to see if someone could let me know. The groundskeeper handed me a map of the cemetery and showed me where my brother was buried. He said that it wouldn't be hard to find since it was the only plot in that section that didn't have a headstone.

Cop pulled around to the north side of the cemetery to section 'G.' I opened the door and got out of the truck holding on to my skirt as I slid off the seat. Just like the groundskeeper said, there was no headstone where my brother was laid to rest. It made me sad to see that the only marker to show who was buried there was a small piece of metal with his name, Adam Lee Walker, with the date he was born and the date that he died. Kneeling before the plate, I brushed my hand across it. "I'm so sorry that I didn't get a chance to know you, big brother. I bet you would have been the best."

It was beginning to get dark. Cop came up behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder. When I looked up at him, I knew it was time to go. Being in a cemetery after dark was probably not a very good idea. Pushing myself to my feet, I said goodbye to my brother, promising him that people would know who he was. Before leaving for the city, I had Cop stop at the shop across the street that made headstones for the cemetery. I wanted my brother to have more than just a piece of metal embedded in the ground. I wanted everyone to know who he was. By the time I left, Adam had a new headstone made of gray granite. Written on the front were the words,
"He lies in peace with no more sorrow, dearly missed always, today and tomorrow."

~****~

When we got back to the condo, Cop took his place outside my door with no word. After thinking about what Diana said on the way home, I had to find out if it was actually true. Certainly there would have been something said about it. Changing into my most comfortable pajamas, I poured myself a glass of wine and headed back to my room with my laptop. I had a pretty good idea of the time frame I needed to search for since the date Adam passed away was on the plaque where he was buried. I typed in several keywords to see if anything would come up. I got several links on the first try. Evidently the death of a child was pretty big news back then. Clicking on the link, a picture appeared of a boy who couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. He had the same eyes as me, but his hair was much darker and he looked to be on the chunky side. Just by looking at him, I could tell that we might have had different fathers. At least now, I knew what my brother looked like. I right-clicked on the photo and saved his picture in my picture folder

Scrolling down, I began to read the story relating to his death. The article stated that he and a friend were in the tree house that was built the year before by some of the boys of the home. The article mostly talked about the background of the foster home and how it came to be through donations. It housed ten boys which were supervised by four adults. The deeper I got into the article, the more it talked about the accident. There were reports that Adam slipped from the edge and another boy who was in the tree house tried to pull him up, but was unable to. There was also a witness report that stated he heard two boys arguing and when he looked over the fence to see what all the commotion was about, he saw Adam falling from the tree with another boy looking down on him as he fell.

There was no other information on the accident. When I got down to the bottom of the page, there was another picture. This time it was a group picture with the names underneath. From left to right, I began reading the names, Benjamin Wilson, Nathan Oliver, Adam Walker, Tommy Morgan, Peter Hewitt… My heart fell into my stomach as I looked at the picture matching the name with the boy. It was Peter. Even though he was a lot thinner and younger then, there was no mistaking it was him. He lived in the same foster home as my brother. He lied. He lied about my mother leaving. He lied about knowing my brother. Slamming the lid down on my computer, tears began filling my eyes. No wonder Peter didn’t want to talk about his past. What really happened in that tree house?

The night filtered into morning and my eyes were wide open. Every time I tried to close them, I saw Peter and then I saw the sad face of my brother. All I could think about was how scared he must have been when he fell from that tree house. Who in their right mind would allow the boys to build it so high off the ground in the first place? It had to have been at least two stories high.

Knowing it was no use trying to fall asleep; I pushed from the bed and headed to the kitchen. Turing on the coffee maker, I sat on the barstool and watched as the amber liquid filled the pot. I wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep or the fact that I was falling for a liar that had me numb. I couldn't stand the way I was feeling any longer. Heading to my room, I changed into my workout clothes, turned off the coffee maker, and headed out of the door, only to be stopped by Cop.

"Is there some place you need me to take you?" he asked, like it was no big deal.

"No,” I said rudely. "I think you have done about enough."

"I can't let you leave by yourself, Lilly," he declared.

"I don't care. I'm going to the gym." I didn't wait for his response. I was totally over him and Peter, and especially the alpha-male bullshit.

The air was a little bit chillier than normal, making me wish I’d grabbed my light jacket. Needing to warm up, I began jogging at an even pace. On cue, Cop was right behind me. I thought it was funny watching him jog in heavy boots and jeans. Pushing myself a little harder, I turned my jog into a run as I rounded the corner. Turning my head, Cop was no longer behind me. This was my chance. Instead of ducking inside the gym, I decided to keep going. As I rounded the next corner, I waited for a moment to catch my breath and to see if Cop would appear. Yep, he was gone. I was no longer cold. I slowed back down to a jogging pace and crossed the street. This was the first time in a long time that I actually had time to myself. With Cop camped outside my door and Peter breathing down my neck, I felt like my life was no longer my own.

I was only a few blocks away from Central Park. I thought it would be a good place to clear my head. I began jogging towards my favorite spot in the park. It was near Turtle Pond. Turning the corner to head that way, I should have been watching where I was going. Before I knew it, I was on the ground looking up at a muscular form wearing only shorts. The sun was blocking my view, so I couldn't see much of anything else. It was only after a hand stretched out and helped me to my feet that I realized who was helping me.

"Pierre," I said, shocked.

"Lilly. It seems we keep running into each other," he said, smirking.

"Yeah, well, I won’t let it happen again," I said, pulling myself from his embrace.

"It doesn't have to be that way, Lilly," he admitted.

"I know what you did to me. I know about the other girls too."

"I would never do anything to hurt you, Lilly. As I remember, you were more than willing to take what I was giving you," he clarified.

"I wasn't myself, I.... Oh my God. Did you drug me?" I asked, knowing it was more than the wine that made me do what I did.

"Of course not, Lilly. I don't have to drug a woman to get her to fall into bed with me," he said, looking insulted by my accusation.

"Stay away from me, Pierre," I hissed, turning the other way in order to get away from him.

"I know what you think, Lilly. I would never hurt you." I heard him yelling behind me.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Lilly

I hadn't heard from Peter in three days. There were so many times that I wanted to pick up the phone and call him, but my anger kept me from doing just that. I was certain that he knew I found out about him lying to me about my mom. Even though he was right about her not wanting to help herself, it still didn't make it right that he lied to me about her taking off. What hurt even more was the fact that he lied about knowing my brother as well. Something happened that day in the tree house. I wanted to know what he was hiding. Tossing my feeling aside, I dialed his number and waited for him to answer. Only he never did. The call went straight to voice mail.

After several failed attempts, I finally had enough courage to leave him a message. "We need to talk. Call me as soon as you get this."

~****~

Okay, now I was beginning to worry. It had been a week since I heard from Peter. Pacing back and forth, I started to think that something may have happened to him. My anger was beginning to turn into concern. Thoughts of something really bad happening to him began entering my mind. I knew he was doing some security work for someone in Washington. He said that he wasn't sure how long he would be gone. It was driving me crazy not knowing what was going on with him.

Opening the front door to my condo, I tapped Cop on the shoulder. Even though I haven't said two words to him since the incident at the motel, this was something I needed to know. "Have you heard from Peter?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"No, I haven't. Peter said to get in touch with him only if there were any problems," Cop said.

"Well, there is a problem. I've called him at least a dozen times, and he hasn't returned any of my calls," I stated angrily.

"I'm sure he's fine, Lilly. He said he might be out of reach for a while. I'm sure he'll call when he can."

"Call him, Cop," I demand.

"I can't, Lilly," he refused.

I have never been more frustrated with anyone as I was with this man. Even as important as his work may have been, it was no excuse for not returning my calls. Maybe this was his way of saying he was done with me. I had two choices. I could wallow in my misery and hope that everything would be okay and he would explain everything to me, or I could stop kidding myself and forget about him and move on. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I sent Peter the last text I would ever send to him. ‘
We're done.’