Misguided Truths: Part One Read online

  “Would you like some water?” I ignore her attempts of playing the good cop. “Brandon. Why didn’t you call your parents?”

  “Because they don’t give a damn about me, that’s why. Besides, I needed my friend to stop by and grab something for me. That was more important than letting my parents know about all of this. It’s not like they’re gonna care whether I go back home or not, anyways.”

  Silence fills the room and I begin to wonder whether she’s still in here, but when I look up, I see her watching me and throwing a small, sympathetic smile my way, “I’m sure they do care, Brandon. I’d certainly want to know if my daughter was arrested.”

  “You’ve got a daughter?” I lift my head and see her leaning forward in her seat.

  “She’s only a couple of years younger than you,” she smiles and I lean back in my seat. It’s refreshing to hear one of the cops actually sounding like a human being. One that has feelings. Maybe I was a little hard on her earlier.

  “I’m guessing you’d be pretty pissed if she did call, what with you being a cop and all.”

  She laughs and drops her pen down on the notebook, “She’d be grounded for life. Though, I don’t think I’ve got anything to worry about in that respect.”

  I glance over to the door when the ass-hat cop walks back inside, with a taller guy following closely behind him this time. Slamming his file down on the desk, I see him staring right at me again. “Detective Harper, we’ve just received the results back from the lab,” his voice is stern, and though he wasn’t talking to me directly, his eyes are narrowing in my direction. Good. Well at least now they’ll know that I had nothing to do with any of this. “Brandon James Taylor, you are being charged with being in the possession of illegal narcotics and for involuntary manslaughter.”

  My eyes dart over to the female cop and I see she’s closed her eyes and has started to shake her head, “What?” I immediately stand when the tall guy grabs my arm, pulling me up from my seat to stand before turning me around. “How is this—?”

  “The heroin found in your bedroom has been confirmed to have been from the same batch that took the life of Holly Louise Grainger. You supplied the deceased with a lethal dose of heroine, for which led to her untimely death …”

  No. No, this can’t be happening. I’m watching the cop and can see his mouth moving, but that’s all it’s doing. I don’t hear a sound other than the buzzing noise ringing in my ears. My head’s beginning to spin, my mouth goes dry, and I start sweating, my vision becoming blurred.

  I feel someone grabbing my other arm, and the next thing I know, I’m being led out of the room and down a corridor, with my hands behind my back and someone pushing me forward from behind.

  I think I need that lawyer now.

  Hope

  I’ve had a couple of days to try and process everything. Some things have become clearer, where others have completely fucked up my mind a whole lot more. One thing I know for sure is that I’ve been framed. The cops assumed Holly was a user, and at one extremely low point just lately, they even made me question if she had been. But then how and why the fuck were drugs from the same batch found in my room? That was all I needed to confirm it. Holly wasn’t a user, and I’ve been set up to take the wrap for what someone else did.

  While my lawyer taps his pen repeatedly on the table in front of us, I rub my eyes and slouch back in my seat.

  At nine this morning, he summoned me to meet with him so we can talk through everything before the trial, “So, are we gonna get on with this? Cos, I’ve kinda got a busy schedule these days.”

  He peers up at me through his glasses before continuing to write something down, “You need to curb your attitude. She shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  “Who won’t be much longer?” I had no idea we were expecting anyone else. “Oh, geez. Did you go ahead and hire me a stripper?” I don’t like the guy one bit. Right when he was assigned to represent me, he told me I should suck it up and plead guilty. Yeah. Anything for an easy life for him, huh?

  The sound of the metal door opening echoes around the small room we’re sitting in, and I have to admit, I’m shocked by who I see walking inside.

  “Brandon,” she nods with a tight smile while pulling up a seat. “How are you?”

  “Just peachy,” My lawyer rolls his eyes when I answer her, but I see a sparkle in the female cop’s eyes. At least she gets me. “And for what do I owe the pleasure?” I cock my head to the side and flash her a sarcastic smile.

  Her eyes dart between me and my lawyer a couple of times, and she rests her elbows on the table while leaning closer, “A few things aren’t adding up,” she speaks quieter and her face has turned more serious. “I wanted to ask you a few further questions.”

  Well, that got my attention. I sit forward and study her for a second, “I thought the case was closed?”

  “It is.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because I believe you, Brandon. I was pulled from the case right after they charged you, but … something doesn’t feel right,” she shakes her head and looks deep in thought as she grabs a file from out of her briefcase.

  I narrow my eyes on her, “Nobody else believes me. What makes you so different?”

  She thinks hard and then looks directly into my eyes, “I’d like to think that I’m a very good judge of character, Brandon. And, what I see when I look at you is your pain. Your sadness. Your innocence. Your eyes alone tell me your story.”

  “My eyes?” I look away and start tapping my foot uncontrollably. “Oh, yeah? Then what am I thinking right now?” I sit forward and challenge her.

  “Can we just get on with this, please? I do have a lunch date with my wife to get to at midday.” My lawyer who’s sitting to the left of me interrupts with a bored sounding tone to his voice. “How is this going to help Mr. Taylor? And, even better still, my sanity?”

  “Tell me what happened in the run up to that fateful night. One of the witnesses informed us that you and the deceased were having a rough time?”

  I close my eyes and swallow, hard, “Can you please call her Holly?” Deceased. Like this isn’t hard enough to deal with already. She smiles sadly and nods, her eyes attentive.

  “We had an argument. No, it wasn’t an argument. She got upset because we couldn’t spend our anniversary together.” If I’d have known then what I do now then I would’ve spent every goddamn second that I had left with her.

  I watch the detective flicking through her notes and see her glance over at me a couple of times, “When was this?”

  “It was on the Saturday.”

  “And, when did you work things out? You must have made amends for her to have been with you on the Friday.” She rests her forearms on the table as she asks.

  I nod and lean back. This is hard, “The night before we came to Seattle. I stopped by her place so we could talk.” My vision goes hazy when I think back to that night. It was the night we declared our love for one another.

  “Did you notice anything unusual with her behavior? Did she seem different to you? Act different?”

  “She wasn’t high on drugs if that’s what your insinuating,” I grind out, and feel anger beginning to flare up within me again.

  She takes her focus away from me and reads something from the file, “Her sister, Rachael. She told us that you went to their home, looking for Holly after your disagreement. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “But she wasn’t at home,” she leans back in her seat, now studying me. “She was out of the house all night, which her sister said was out of character for Holly. Do you have any idea where she was or who she was with?”

  “I left her at around four that afternoon for rehearsals. She messaged to say she was headed to the movies with a couple of buddies of mine. I called her, I messaged her. And, apart from that one, telling me about her plans, I didn’t hear a damn thing until I saw her on the Thursday.”

  “Ryan McGregor and Neil Kell
y?” I nod my answer when she asks. “Did you try getting hold of them when you couldn’t get in touch with Holly?”

  “Yeah. Rye said he’d left the theatre just before the movie finished because he got a call from Claire, the girl he’s kinda seeing. Neil messaged me back at about two in the morning and said that Holly had made her way over to a friend’s place for the night right after the credits rolled up.”

  “Which friend?”

  Shit. I didn’t even think to ask, “What’s with all the questions about the Saturday? Shouldn’t you be focusing on what happened to her, instead of prying into our relationship?” Is she trying to make me feel even guiltier in the fact that I managed to fuck things up? Does she not realize that I regret every fucking day that I didn’t get to spend with her?

  She rests her pen on the table and gives me a small smile, “I’m just trying to understand a few of the events leading up to that day, that’s all.”

  She’s lying, “You know something, don’t you?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Brandon. As of yet, no, No I don’t. But, there are a few discrepancies within one of the witness statements that I’d like to look a little deeper into.”

  What the fuck? I stand right up and rest my hands on the table, leaning in towards her as my heart begins to beat harder and faster in my chest, “What? Who? You gotta tell me. Do I know them? What discrepancies?”

  A look of sympathy crosses over her whole face and she looks away from the gaze I’m holding on her, “Until I can collate evidence, I’m afraid I’m unable to say.”

  “Dammit!” I growl out with frustration and throw my arms up in the air, inhaling a few deep breaths while pacing the floor of the room.

  “I know how frustrating all of this is for you, Brandon. Really, I do. But, until I have solid evidence for the courts, I can’t divulge any further,” I glance over my shoulder and see her standing up while collecting her papers. “I’ll be in touch soon.” She walks over to the door and smiles a tight lipped smile at me.

  Sighing, I try my hardest to smile back and walk back over, “Look, I’m sorry… I’m just going out of my fucking mind here, y’know?” Resting my hands on my hips, my shoulders slouch low.

  “I’m going to do everything I possibly can to get you out of here, Brandon. I promise. Now, I’d really better get going.”

  “Thanks … for doing this,” I say quietly. She reaches out and squeezes my shoulder lightly. “Hey, I never thought to ask. Is your daughter staying out of trouble?” her eyes immediately brighten when I mention her, and I swear I just felt a slight twinge of jealously. Not once did my parents ever have that look in their eyes for me like she has for her daughter.

  “Always,” she winks and then heads out the room. When I turn back around, I see my lawyer sitting at the desk and looking right at me.

  “What?”

  He clears his throat as he stands, letting out a loud breath, “I have a feeling I’m going to have a hell of a lot more paperwork to deal with.”

  Asshole.

  The Beginning of Everything Else

  “Sign here, please.”

  I nod once and grab the pen from the guy sitting behind the desk. It’s only when the ink hits the dotted line that I realize my hands are shaking. Everything feels surreal.

  After spending twelve months locked up in a cell, you’d think I’d be feeling a whole lot happier than what I actually am. Shit. I thought that I’d be feeling happier to finally be going back outside.

  Yeah, I got handed twelve months inside for being in possession. You see, she never came back. She strolled into the room that day, and raised my hopes so fucking high that I believed her. I actually believed every goddamn word that left her mouth and thought she was gonna help me.

  I waited. And, I waited. But, nothing.

  Right afterwards, my lawyer had said that he thought I was lucky to only have been found guilty on the one charge. That I would’ve been looking at a lot longer inside if they’d found me guilty for causing her death as well. But, you see, I didn’t feel that lucky. Especially when the only reason they didn’t serve me with their guilty verdict was due to their lack of evidence, and not because they knew I didn’t do it.

  The guy passes over the envelope as I throw the pen down, and I slowly turn around to make my way out through the exit doors.

  Rachael told me the last time she visited that she’d be waiting by the gates to pick me up when they released me. Well, the gates are just up ahead and I don’t see her anywhere yet.

  I take a seat on the steps just by the doors while I wait for her to get here. What with the way the rain’s hammering down, and it being eight in the morning, it’s likely that she got held up in the rush hour traffic or something.

  Sitting down, I stare dolefully at the envelope before ripping it open. I tip it upright so all the contents fall onto my lap and see my cell phone, my watch, and … no.

  No. They said … he said …

  I drop the envelope down to my side and pick up the locket with my left hand, while stroking it lightly with the fingers of my right. My chest tightens, I swallow hard, and I close my eyes. This isn’t supposed to be here. It was supposed to be with Holly. I should be with Holly.

  If it wasn’t hard enough having to miss her funeral, but now this?

  I snap my eyes open as I take a deep breath, and run my left hand through my hair while clutching the necklace tightly as anger begins to take over my whole being.

  Whoever did this is gonna pay. Whoever set me up took everything I had going for me in my life. I’ve lost the past twelve months while doing time for a crime I didn’t commit. They took my girlfriend away from me. They took Holly’s life. They killed my girlfriend, and they set me up to take the fall.

  And it’s in this moment that I realize. My sole purpose right now isn’t to try and start anew. No. It’s to find the motherfucker who did this to us. They may think that they’ve gotten away with it, but I can promise you this. Somebody out there knows what happened that night, and I won’t rest or give up until I find out who fucked everything up.

  The sound of an engine in the near distance has me looking up and over to the exit. I place my cell and watch back into the envelope, but keep a hold of the necklace firmly in my hand when I see Rachael’s black SUV parking right outside the gates.

  The rain is still coming down hard and I see her opening up her umbrella as she walks briskly towards me. I stand and inhale another deep breath before making my way slowly over towards her.

  We don’t speak a word until we reach her car and sit inside.

  “How does it feel?” she asks and I turn to face her. She has that same warmth within her eyes now as she always does.

  “You know what, Rach?” I’m just gonna be completely honest with her. “It doesn’t make a difference. I thought that being out here would change things. Change how I feel. But, it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter whether I’m sitting out here, or sitting back through there. Because … she’s never coming back, is she?”

  Tears are brimming in her eyes, and as I go to look away, she puts her arms out and pulls me towards her. She shakes her head at me and hugs me tightly as she whispers, “No, Brandon … she’s never coming back.”

  ***

  I tap my fingers on the seat and stare out of the window as she starts to drive us away from the place that has practically been my home for the past year.

  Rach was the only person who ever visited me regularly. But, that was because I refused to see anybody else. In fact, she’s the only person I’ve kept in contact with since I was put in there.

  Rye and Neil came to visit me the one time, right at the beginning. But, I haven’t seen them since then. They just dropped by to say their goodbyes before heading to Europe. Was I mad that they did this? No. Not at all. I mean, sure, I was upset to know that two of my closest friends wouldn’t be around, but they’d already postponed their trip long enough.

  Rachael, though, she visited me every wee
k without fail, and insisted on organizing things on my behalf, ready for when release day came around.

  Well, that day is today.

  “Here,” she keeps eyes focused on the road ahead while handing me a large, white envelope. “It’s your timetable for when you start your classes next month, and your room key is inside.” I nod as I take it from her.

  “Do we have to go there right now?” I turn in my seat as we pull up at some lights, and notice her eyes flickering over to the digital clock on the dashboard before she begins to shake her head.

  “No, not just yet. Layla isn’t expecting us for another couple of hours. Why? Is there somewhere in particular you want to go?” she instantly closes her eyes as the words leave her mouth, before turning to look over at me while breathing a heavy sigh. “Of course. Stupid question.”

  “Do you mind?” I ask. She shakes her head again, only slightly this time, with a look of sadness seeping into her eyes.

  She takes the next right when we reach a crossroads, and I know it’s not gonna be long before we get there.

  College isn’t the only thing Rachael arranged for me while I was on the inside. Nope. She also managed to line me up with a job. One of her old high school friends, Layla, is the owner’s daughter and the manager of a bar just around the corner from the colleges’ campus, where I’ll be living for the foreseeable future. The paychecks I’ll get from there won’t particularly be a lot, but, I’ve gotta pay for my tuition fees somehow.

  Seattle isn’t where I wanna stay permanently, but I figure I’ll be close enough to where I need to be in order to find the scumbag who ruined our lives, though still far enough away so they won’t know what’s coming.

  “We’re here,” Rachael’s speaks quietly, and I feel her squeezing my arm when she’s parked up at the side of the street. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No …” I unfasten my seatbelt, open the passenger side door, and then step out onto the road. “No, I need to do this on my own.” She nods with understanding before I close the door back up.