SEVENTEEN
Drake stared at me, his expression turning thoughtful.
“You believe she was murdered?”
“Well, I don’t know. But I can’t stop thinking how I felt in that room. I suppose it’s possible she tried to run away with the baby… Why? To find Junior on her own? I just don’t know. Regardless, she definitely isn’t safe there.”
“Mon chaton, you know we can’t save her,” he reminded me gently.
“But we have to! She’s alive; we can still do something! I promised her I would.”
“Who’s to say that finding the father of the baby is a good idea?”
“I need an excuse to go back there before three p.m. tomorrow. If we convince Junior to go to the hospital, maybe I can sneak in. Worst case, Junior could know something about why she’s being kept there. Right now, we’re on the verge of losing her. We have to think of something.”
“Peyton. You remember what we were told before coming here. We can’t do anything that might change the past.”
“You didn’t see her, Drake! She’s real. She’s here. And if her spirit is stuck and can’t travel to its proper destination, she must be about to undergo something terrible. We have to stop it!”
My passion ignited me with a renewed sense of determination. The powerlessness that emerged from my relationship with Drake seeped into my resolve; I needed to change it. I needed to save her if I could. Her baby was doomed to grow up without a mother. Her soul was relegated to spending the next century repeating the same tragic (and still unknown) demise over and over and over again. I couldn’t just watch it happen, I had to do something. So much was out of my hands, but not that. Not while there was still time.
“Peyton, we can’t change the past, you know as well as I do. Without Dorothy’s death, Ada and Jill might never exist for all we know! We can’t alter history. We’re just here for some answers.”
He was right, of course. But how could I just sit back and watch her die? Especially at the hands of that horrible, slimy doctor! How could I sit there and do nothing? I couldn’t imagine a worse version of hell. Drake seemed to understand me at least. I knew he didn’t like it anymore than I did, but as always, he was the voice of reason. Still, I longed for a compromise and an alternate option we just hadn’t considered yet.
He pulled me toward him and once again, I allowed his warm body to soothe me. I’d done my best to keep my distance since our kiss. I’d forcefully plastered my mind with images of Ryan, but it did little to relieve the constant ache that I felt when I was around Drake. The burning desire to touch him—or look at him—pervaded all of my senses. I could still feel his soft kiss on my parted lips when I closed my eyes. But the thought of the doctor’s flickering tongue and his suggestion of other forms of compensation suddenly interrupted my thoughts of Drake and turned my stomach.
Drake continued to hold me. My thoughts were more like somersaults and I couldn’t handle the growing sense of guilt I felt toward Dorothy. All alone in that empty hospital with no one but a lecherous doctor, a mean nurse, and a newborn baby to comfort her.
Drake released me and watched me thoughtfully. The fading afternoon light accentuated his curly hair and broad shoulders. He was absolutely beautiful.
“I suppose we have to find Junior,” he said with a sigh and a shrug as he stretched his long legs out before him. “Even if we just get some answers for Ada and Jill. You’re correct though, there’s no way I will allow you to go backto that hospital, not on your own.”
I was glad he was finally on my side, and I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him, but I resisted the impulse.
“I don’t even know where to begin looking,” I admitted. “I tried to ask Dorothy where Junior lives but she was too upset to tell me anything.”
He shook his head. “She had a boyfriend, correct? I can’t recall anything about the name Junior but perhaps it’s the same man?”
“Going by a nickname?” That made sense. I couldn’t imagine any decent woman from this time period dating more than one man. Keeping it a secret would have been nearly impossible. I wracked my brain to think of the name I read in the article. “George” I said at last, “George Griscom. But even if he is the same person, I have no idea where to find him. I didn’t look it up when we left and my map just shows the places where Dorothy went.”
“We’ll have to return to the public records building,” he said.
I nodded and stomped my foot in a moment of frustration as I took out the pocket watch.
“Shit! 4:50! They close shop in ten minutes, we’ll never make it in time.”
I cursed 1910 for not having Wi-Fi.
Drake was thoughtful for a minute before a dark idea clouded his handsome features.
“What?” I asked.
“There is someone who might know where to look.”
“I don’t think I have it in me to visit anymore escorts or prostitutes or hookers or ladies of the night or whatever the hell else you call them.”
“Ma minette, your jealousy is quite becoming,” Drake said as he patted my thigh and I frowned at him.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oui.”
“Non,” I argued and crossed my arms against my chest. He was about to speak so I beat him to it. “So… whom are we going to visit now?” I asked apprehensively.
The smile dropped from his lips entirely. Drake’s eyes had a somber expression that extended to all of his features.
“My brother.”
***
The sun shone bright orange on the horizon as we pulled up to an impressive block of buildings near the west end of town. Anger and confusion dominated my emotional state as I stared at Drake with a deep frown. There was so little I knew about him and I felt more foolish than ever. He knew every aspect of my life. Everything there was to know about me: my thoughts and my history and my relationships; he knew all of it. I had no secrets where he was concerned (minus, perhaps, the depth of my attraction toward him). And yet I knew absolutely nothing about him. His family and the relationships he pursued as well as the sort of person he’d been were all mysteries to me. I suppose some of my anger was directed inwards for not trying harder to press him for details. I’d been so distracted with my own life, I overlooked everything in his—an intensely complicated history that he kept a secret.
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” I said, trying to conceal the hurt in my voice.
“I don’t,” he replied darkly. Then in response to my confused facial expression, he amended, “it’s complicated, mon amour. There’s much more to it than I care to explain.”
“You’ll have to try,” I said, swiveling in my seat to face him directly. “I’m not going in that house without an explanation, Drake.”
He sighed.
“I was sixteen years old when I lived here. I was also a different person then.”
“What were you doing here?”
“My brother and I came to live here with my uncle and his family. My father thought it might toughen us if we lived in the city. But really, we just had more freedom than ever before. I didn’t deal with the freedom particularly well, but Lucien handled it even worse.”
“Lucien? He was your brother?”
“Oui.”
“What was he like?”
“He’s… he’s much more than I can put into words. I loved him; he was my only brother, but from the time we were children, we wanted different things. When we arrived here, we grew even further apart. He started drinking and gambling, and spending excessive amounts of time in disreputable establishments. My uncle, of course, became furious. He built an empire for himself here and my brother was more or less squandering his money and his good name. Remember when I told you how important people’s images are? My uncle was no better, and just as twisted and dishonest as Lucien, but he, at least, had the good sense to hide it. We came from money and we acted like it. I blush with shame when I remember some of my regrettable actions while I was living here,” he said.
It was the most Drake ever shared about his past with me. I listened with rapt attention; the cab driver lit a cigar. Drake tapped his shoulder. The driver turned in his seat and Drake held a few bills out to him.
“Could you give us some privacy?” he asked.
The driver shrugged and exited the car. We watched as he walked over to a nearby tree, his shoulders raised to block the cold air. He took another drag from his cigar. My attention resettled on Drake; I was eager and more than ready for him to return to his story.
“One night, Lucien went off on a bash, and I saw him out at a hotel in the center of town. He was surrounded by women, of course, and he could have had his pick of them but Lucien had peculiar,” he paused, “…and specific requests and indulgences.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that he desired a certain level of deviancy in his intimate relationships… deviancy that cost him a steep price. Rumors spread about the sort of encounters he paid for and most of the higher end escorts refused to entertain him. One in particular denied her services to him and he became… obsessed.”
“With the escort?”
“Indeed. And you, ma minette, have already met her.”
“Lola Reilly?”
“Oui.”
“What did he do?”
“Well, nothing at first. He was all talk and no one paid him any attention. But on this one particular night, he was exceptionally inebriated. At the hotel, he was boasting about some of his wildest adventures and his bragging turned to anger when her name came up. She’d rejected him and he refused to accept it.”
“Sounds like he was a little too big for his breeches,” I said with a frown.
Drake nodded. “I will not attempt to paint you a false picture of my behavior at that age; and I was no saint but Lucien made me nervous. I think my debauchery stemmed from a place of entitled elitism mixed with naive youth. But he came from a place of real evil. When he spoke about her that night, I heard in his voice that something changed. He fully intended to cause her actual harm. I didn’t know Lola yet, but I knew whoever she was, I knew she was in very real and imminent danger.” He took a deep breath and I continued to watch him, unable to keep myself from admiring his strong profile.
“Go on,” I encouraged him.
“When he left the hotel, Lucien was so drunk, he could barely stand. He muttered a string of curses and the name Lola over and over. So I followed him. I trailed him all the way to her house, but he was too intoxicated to notice. He wasn’t granted entry because she already removed his name from the privilege list and he began arguing with the man at the gate. I hung back, assuming he was too drunk to do any real damage.
“But Lucien began fighting as soon as he realized he had fists. I learned from a young age to avoid him whenever he was angry because nothing could stop him. The shouting turned violent, and by the time I could get there to do anything, the man was already unconscious. I tried to revive him but I heard a scream and the sound of something shattering from above me so I ran upstairs and followed the sounds of the struggle. When I got to the room, he had Lola pinned to the ground. Blood was all over the floor from where he’d broken a glass over her head. He had a hand around her throat and was about to… I can’t go on… it’s unspeakable.”
Drake breathed heavily, and his eyes glistened in the setting sun. I put a reassuring hand over his. My belly was in knots watching him relive what had obviously been a very traumatic night for him. “It’s okay, Drake,” I said with a soft voice. He turned to face me and smiled almost as if he were embarrassed that he was having such a difficult time explaining the story.
“I pulled him off her and hit him repeatedly. We fought… and I wasn’t quite so adept in my pugilistic skills then. I could see his eyes and he had every intention of killing me that night. It scared me. I always knew he was dangerous, but I never imagined him turning into something so inhuman.
“Thankfully, Lola regained consciousness and managed to hit him over the head with a full bottle of whisky and that knocked him out. Lola was badly hurt but alive. We left him there and I took Lola to the nearest hospital.
“When my uncle found out what happened, he was beyond irate. Not at Lucien, but at me! He was more concerned about strangers seeing me helping an escort at the hospital rather than dealing with his nephew accosting one. He hypocritically claimed it would shame the family to assist anyone of her low rank and occupation. Everyone just turned a cheek if they caught us paying for a lady of the night for her services, but my uncle would have become the town joke if any word got out that a Montague treated one with the respect and honor any woman deserves.
“Naturally, I was enraged. I remained in New York just long enough to make certain she was okay. We became quite close after that. I’d like to be noble and say our relationship remained platonic, but she was my first real love and she taught me how to love a woman.”
I swallowed hard and even took a big breath at the thought of them together—of him loving Lola and her teaching him how to love a woman. Of course there was a part of me that absolutely wanted to know what it would be like to make love to Drake. I’d thought about it more times than I could count but each time I’d pushed the thoughts away with angry discouragement.
“Because I loved Lola, I had it out with my brother, telling him I’d kill him if he ever approached her again. He remained in New York, and I returned home. I was disgusted by the wealthy family that raised me and their stark lack of character. Lucien knew I was serious in my threat and in all the times I returned to see Lola, she never saw or heard from him again, and none of the other escorts did either. I wasn’t even sure he was still in New York until after my uncle died and I learned he was living in the family house. Sparing a few formal letters regarding the passing of other relatives and estate information, I haven’t spoken to him or seen him since then. From what I hear, he did quite well. A real socialite, mind you, but I’ll never forgive him for what he did to Lola.
“And now, mon chaton,” he finished with a long sigh, “you know everything there is to know about moi.”
Realizing only then that my mouth had fallen open, I hastily made a valiant effort to recover. I didn’t know what to say, and no response seemed appropriate. If anything, I had more admiration for Drake than ever before. I’m sure it couldn’t have been easy to essentially disown your family. Or disassociate yourself from an identity that was inextricably linked to unlimited wealth during that time period.
“So if he did all those terrible things, why are we going to see him now?” I asked finally. “How would he know anything more than we do?”
“My brother’s business depends on knowing people. If this George Griscom is anyone of importance or wealth, Lucien will know where to find him.”
Drake looked at my hand still resting on top of his and his mouth twitched. I quickly pulled my hand back and placed it in my lap. Outside, the sun had almost finished setting and a waning orange glow filled the back of the open car.
“Shall we start the family reunion?” he asked.