Drake Forever Read online

  "Oh, God." I'd been focused on the evidence and hadn't thought about that -- at least, not during the testimony. "I don't know what more damage she can do. I'm off the board at the corporation and foundation. I'm not doing my Fellowship. I'm not even practicing. What else could she do?"

  Lara made a face. "Not that I'm superstitious or anything, but hush, Drake. There's a lot of damage she could do. Just bringing your name back into the public eye like this is going to damage your reputation. But we can weather this, if we stick to the script. Okay?"

  "Okay." We got to the car and John opened the passenger door for Lara. She smiled and got inside. I slipped in beside her and fastened my seatbelt.

  "Let's go get some food and talk strategy and tactics," she said.

  "Sounds like a plan."

  And so we did.

  Kate

  Drake got home from lunch with Lara around two in the afternoon, when I was a bit sleepy and Sophie was playing on the floor with her Thomas the Tank Engine train set. He came into the living room, his cheeks cold from the October air outside and kissed me.

  "Hey, beautiful, how are you? How's my two girls?"

  "We're fine. We had a nice walk this morning and had our lunch, and now, I'm just waiting for her to get tired enough for her afternoon nap. How did the trial go? What does Lara think?"

  Drake plopped down on the sofa beside me, his arm around my shoulders. "It went fine. No one recognized me in my casual dude in jeans and a growing beard disguise. We heard opening arguments and the prosecutor had a few witnesses on the stand. There was cross-examination as well."

  "Who did they call?" I asked.

  Drake recounted how the morning went and who testified for the prosecution.

  "It seems pretty straight forward that Lisa and Jones planned to kill Derek and steal his money," I said. "They were planning on leaving the US for a country with no extradition treaty, weren't they? Mali, wasn't it?"

  "There were two tickets to Mali in the cabin, yes," he said. "Lisa claimed Derek bought them for the two of them. She said he was planning on taking her there to start over."

  "It's a lie, of course," I said, amazed at how she was such a compulsive liar. "You can't believe anything she says."

  "No," Drake said, picking Sophie up, who had walked over with a toy, wanting to sit on his lap. "Narcissists can't stand to be seen being wrong or making a mistake -- and worst of all, being rejected. She'll say and do anything to protect her fragile ego. The problem with her is that she thinks she's smarter than she is."

  "She's obviously smart," I said, remembering the pictures I'd seen of her online. "And beautiful. She's a doctor. You can't be stupid and get through med school."

  Drake shook his head. "She's smart but sometimes, she thinks she's smarter than she really is. She doesn't know forensic science as well as she should or they wouldn't have killed him in the house. She should know that the police could find traces of Derek's blood at the scene. She cleaned up but you can't clean up every trace of blood. The chemicals from the blood cells remain. I saw the pictures of the trace blood evidence and it must have been a horrific scene. Blood everywhere -- on the walls, on the floor. On the kitchen countertop."

  "Sounds really violent," I said, imagining it in my mind's eye.

  "A fish boning knife. Long and thin."

  I scrunched up my nose in horror. "Oh, God. One of those?" Jones was a big guy while Derek was of average height and build. From what I had seen on television, he was no match for Jones -- especially Jones with a knife.

  Drake nodded, an expression of disgust on his face. "Yep. He didn't die right away. They chased him around and Lisa hit him with the hammer half a dozen times. It must have been a horror show."

  "God," I said, my gut in a knot about it. "I knew she was dangerous when I saw her at O'Riley's but I never would have thought she'd actually try to kill someone, let alone me."

  "I should have quit right away," Drake said, his voice regretful. He sighed. "Maybe none of this would have happened."

  "You couldn't know. None of us could know she was crazy."

  "Couldn't we? Maybe Derek didn't know her as well as he should have. Maybe I shouldn't have blithely agreed to top her, not knowing anything about her background and history. Usually, I relied on Lara to vet the subs I topped or signed a contract with. I didn't because I assumed that Derek, who I thought was a responsible smart guy, would have done so. I wonder if he knew about her past. If I had known, I wouldn't have become involved with her. Someone with a traumatic past involving real abuse should probably approach the lifestyle very cautiously. For some it might be healing. For others, it might just screw them up even more. There are bad guys in the lifestyle who prey on women like Lisa."

  "Usually they don't get murdered by those women," I added. "She was a piece of work, Drake. Probably only someone really trained in psychopathy would recognize her behavior and be worried."

  "I should have been," Drake said softly. "There's no excuse, considering I studied psychiatry. I even considered psychiatry as a specialty."

  "Don't blame yourself." I reached over to squeeze his bicep. Sophie put her head down on Drake's shoulder, sucking away on her pacifier and Drake turned to me, his eyebrows raised.

  "Looks like somebody is ready for a nap," he said softly.

  "Looks like it. Do you want to take her or should I?"

  "I will," he said and stood up carefully, carrying her up the stairs to the bedroom. I waited on the sofa, turning on the television to watch the headlines. Luckily, there was nothing on the news about the case. I didn't relish seeing any pics of me or Drake on the screen. Reporters often referenced my case when they first talked about Lisa, since she had been convicted of attempted murder. Luckily, the reporters all used an old photo of me from several years earlier. While I had been stalked a bit during Lisa's first trial and had a few pics taken of me, so far I'd escaped their attention during the lead-up to her new trial. I wanted to keep it that way. I'd taken to wearing my hair up in a bun rather than down, and when I went out in public, I dressed down as much as I could so I blended in with the rest of the crowd.

  I didn't want anyone sticking a mic in my face. In my mind, the trial couldn't end soon enough. Once it was done, there was yet another trial on charges of reckless endangerment for encouraging Jones to commit suicide.

  Drake came back down and sat beside me, pulling me closer to him. "She went down easy," he said. "We are so lucky."

  "We are," I said and smiled up at him.

  "Are you going to the studio?"

  I nodded and stretched. "I want to finish this piece I'm working on. That way, the series is done and I can send some slides to the gallery and see if they're interested in an exhibition."

  "That would be great," he said and pulled me onto his lap. "Give me a kiss before you go. I need some Kate time."

  I kissed him and laid my head on his shoulder and we sat like that for a few moments, listening in the background to a news report on one of the news networks.

  "One day, all this business with Lisa will be over and we can go back to our real lives. I feel like we're in limbo right now. You can't do anything until the news dies down after the trial is over."

  "All we can do is put our heads down and wait."

  I kissed him again then stood up from the sofa. "I'll go for a couple of hours and should be back in time for supper. This time, I'll cook it. How about a stir fry? We have that broccoli and some chicken in the freezer."

  "Sounds good. I'll read over some reports Dave sent me on new projects. I don't get to approve anything but at least I'll know what the foundation is doing without me around."

  "Poor Drake," I said and bent down, kissing him once more. "It's so unfair to you."

  "It's for the good of the foundation. I can still see the good it's doing. I don't need my name or face connected to it to be fulfilled."

  "You're too good," I said and grabbed my bag before going to the front closet to get my coat and boots.
I glanced at the window and saw that it was starting to snow. I texted Mike to let him know I needed a ride. Drake got up and came to the front door. "Give me one more kiss," he said and leaned forward.

  I did, slipping my arms around his neck briefly.

  "Have fun," he said and released me, opening the door. "What do you say to an artist going to their studio? Break a leg doesn't sound right."

  "Make good art?" I said, laughing.

  "Make good art," he replied and closed the door as I went down the stairs to the street level.

  Outside, the sun was covered by thick grey clouds. There were a few hours of sunlight left but the days were getting shorter and the air was crisp. Fat snowflakes drifted down from the sky. I loved this time of year because it reminded me of the start of the happiest time of my life -- meeting Drake and falling in love, our trip to Africa and then our wedding. The birth of Sophia hadn't been the happy event that I hoped it would be, but we survived and now we were a happy little family -- despite the trial and all the fallout for Drake.

  Of course, once I got onto the street, Mike was leaning against his vehicle. When he saw me, he stood up straighter.

  "Mrs. Morgan," he said and nodded.

  "Hi, Mike. I'm sorry to bother you. I'm perfectly capable of taking a taxi or the subway. I keep thinking I'm perfectly safe the way I always thought I was and then I see you and reality sets in and I realize I need a bodyguard."

  "Sorry to be bad news," he said with a shrug and a small grin. "Best to live in the real world when it comes to safety. Most people don't need a bodyguard, but some do. Try to forget I'm here. I know that's not easy."

  I gave my head a shake and pointed down the street. "Do you mind if I walk part of the way, then take the subway the rest? I need some fresh air."

  "Suits me fine," he said and adjusted his earpiece. "I like to get some exercise given that I sit a lot of the time."

  I set off and walked down 8th Avenue towards the studio. I tried to forget he was behind me, and plugged my earphones in, listening to some classical music while I took in the sights. It felt good to get out and blend into the crowd, to feel the energy of the city around me. I could almost imagine that all was right with my little world.

  Almost.

  Until I passed a newsstand with newspapers emblazoned with pics of Lisa and Derek side by side and the headline, Accused Billionaire-Killer Stands Trial.

  I removed my figurative rose-colored glasses and put on my real sunglasses, hoping that no one recognized that I was her second victim.

  * * *

  We took the subway the rest of the way and Mike followed me along the street and then up the stairs to the studio. After he checked it out as usual, he left me alone and went back to the street.

  It upset me that I couldn't feel safe even in the studio, but Lisa was still able to reach outside of the prison and influence people. Who knew what she might do to try to punish me and Drake even further? She'd been able to convince Jones to kill himself. She had family in Manhattan and they were adamant she was not only innocent, but that Drake and Derek Richardson were evil men who were the ones who should be in jail, not Lisa.

  At her first trial, Lisa's older brother had caused a scene, shouting at one of the police officers who had given testimony about Lisa's behavior when she was finally picked up. He had to be forcibly removed from the courtroom. I tried to avoid the trial, but Drake watched coverage and attended court when he could. It was the brother's behavior that convinced him to keep a security detail for us even though Lisa was in prison. When I complained, Drake mentioned Lisa's brother.

  "You never know what someone like him might do in anger. He might feel I deserve a beating and come after me. He's a security guard. He's capable of whupping ass."

  "Drake Morgan!" I had said in response. "It's not like you to say something like that."

  "Just trying to be real," he'd said and gave me a kiss and a pat on my cheek. "I want you safe. I want to be around to enjoy you -- and Sophie -- for a long time."

  I gave in and agreed to have a bodyguard whenever I went out alone. Drake had one as well, because he was a target, too. The two of us were no longer anonymous in Manhattan because of the publicity around the trial. It upset me and partially ruined my return to the city in which I was born and had lived all my life, but that was the reality.

  I tried to put it out of my mind. I had to push thoughts of the trial, of bodyguards and personal security out of my mind so I could focus on my art.

  I wouldn't let Lisa and her nutcase brother make me stop living my life.

  * * *

  The two hours I allotted myself to work in the studio passed with me barely noticing the time. I made a great deal of progress on the current piece I was working on – a detail of a scene of a watering hole I'd drawn out while in Africa, the animals crouched down around its border, drinking. I don't know why it appealed to me so much, but it did. It spoke of the reliance on water and how the scarcity of it during the dry seasons pushed the animals to their limits, testing their ability to survive in harsh conditions. It seemed like a metaphor for us, Drake and me. We usually had it really good. Drake was wealthy, healthy and intelligent. He was exceptionally well-trained and skilled. Yet, all of that was put to the test when he met Lisa and she almost killed me and put Drake's past in the spotlight. He was losing all the things that made him Drake – his practice in neurosurgery, his fellowship at NYP, his place on the board of the foundation and corporation his father had started. Now, he was a stay-at-home dad living off his wealth rather than fulfilling his personal promise. All because of Lisa Monroe and her erotomania.

  Both of us were being tested by these new environmental conditions. In nature, only the strongest and healthiest survived, ensuring a strong and healthy future generation. In the human world, that wasn't the case. Sometimes, it was the worst of us who survived and thrived, if you could call it that, while the best died young. I tried to put Lisa and her acts out of my mind, but she kept creeping in at any time of the day and no matter what I was doing, ruining my otherwise peaceful day.

  Damn her.

  I couldn't wait until all this passed and Drake and I and Sophia were able to live our lives the way we wanted. That would only happen once the trial was over and Lisa was put in jail for the rest of her life.

  I cleaned my brushes and put my canvas away, then locked my space. I sent Mike a text, letting him know I was finished, and left the studio. On the street, he was waiting, his newspaper tucked under his arm.

  "Mrs. Morgan," he said when I reached his side.

  "Hi, Mike. Ready for a trip home on the subway? I want to get there fast."

  "Lead on," he said and waved his arm.

  * * *

  When we arrived back at the 8th Avenue building, I said goodbye to Mike and went up the stairs to the apartment. I slipped off my boots and coat and went into the kitchen where Drake was busy fixing Sophia some supper. As usual, she was in her highchair and was pushing around some animal crackers on her tray.

  "Hi, baby," I said and gave her plump cheek a kiss. "Have you been a good girl for Daddy?"

  She gave me a huge toothy-mushy-cracker smile and shoved another animal into her mouth.

  "She's been a very good girl," Drake said from the stove. "She went down without a peep and woke up about half an hour ago. We played on the floor for a while with Thomas the Tank Engine."

  "That's good," I said and went to his side, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I guess I should start cooking."

  "I'll help." Drake rubbed his hands together. "Give me a knife and tell me what to do."

  I went to the refrigerator to get the vegetables out for the stir fry. After I placed them on the counter in front of Drake, I did hand him a chopping knife and cutting board.

  "What's new? Any developments in the trial?"

  "As a matter of fact, yes," Drake said and began chopping the broccoli while I fixed the rice. "Lara called before you arrived and filled me in on the trial th
is afternoon. Seems that the defense is going to call me as a hostile witness."

  "What?"

  Drake nodded, his expression grim. "Yep. They want to question me about my relationship with Lisa and Derek. Part of building the case that Lisa was abused and battered and was acting in self-defense when she hit him with the hammer a half dozen times after Jones stabbed him as many times with the fish boning knife and after making him transfer money to them both."

  "Do you have to?" I made a face, not relishing the fact Drake would be pulled into the limelight again.

  "I have to. We knew this was coming," he said. "I hoped Lisa would accept a plea bargain and plead guilty but for whatever reason, her lawyer really believes she can get Lisa off on a battered woman defense."

  Drake shrugged, but I could see how unhappy he was.

  "I'm sorry," I said and went to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my head against his back. "What a pain to have to go through it all again. Why can't they take a deposition and let the jury read it?"

  "They want to put a face to the name of the man who corrupted poor Lisa since Derek is dead. They can't harass him, so I guess it's me."

  "What kinds of things will they ask you?"

  He shrugged and turned around, slipping his arms around me. "When we met, what we agreed to, what we did, what happened afterwards. Lara's going to take me through the probable questions they will ask so we can practice my responses. Not that I won't tell the truth, but so I know how to phrase it so I don't bias the jury."

  "The jury won't understand that it was all consensual. They'll just hear bondage and think violence and abuse."

  "I'll be questioned by the prosecutor and she'll correct any misunderstandings in cross examination."

  "I hope so."

  I sighed and went over to feed Sophie her supper while Drake finished chopping. As usual, Sophie was glad to feed herself, eagerly picking up the pieces of soft food in her fingers and holding her fork in the other hand. I smiled while I watched her. She was a good eater.