A Tangled Truth (Stonewall Investigations Book 3) Read online

  “She heard the news.”

  “The news?”

  “Oh, I’m the first one to break this to you?” She sounded giddy all of a sudden. The last time I heard her sound like this was when she said I was going to get laughed out of Hollywood with my last feature film.

  She was sure pissed off when it was me getting a standing ovation at the Academy Awards while she was sitting all the way toward the back by one of the bathrooms.

  I made sure to chuckle on the stage. That one was for her.

  “What news, Jean?”

  “I’m surprised. I thought you had Google alerts set up on your name. You’re trending all over the country.”

  This time I stood up. “Jean, enough games. What’s going on?”

  “You know what, on second thought, go check it yourself,” she said, her tone sounding more acidic than usual. “Crook.” And with that, she hung up.

  “What the…”

  “Is everything okay?” the man—Trenton69 was his Grindr username—asked.

  “No,” I said, logging on to Twitter first and immediately having the app crash on me because of the number of notifications that were coming in. I went to my computer and leaned on the desk as I logged in, going straight for a popular industry news blog. Sure enough, my name was blaring out from a headline on the front page that read “Liam Wolfe, accused through anonymous email of stealing millions from production and harassing crew members.” There was a copy of the email on the trending page:

  Liam Wolfe is a fraud and a thief. He stole mllions from his film projects and he’s physically assaulted background actors on hs films, using his power to keep them quiet. He’s a monster and should be stopped from creating any new flms. Do not support this trash.

  My blood ran frigid. It was like I’d suddenly jumped out of my body and was watching myself read the headline, over and over again, trying to make sense of what it meant. Clearly, it was written in picture-fucking-perfect English, but my mind was seeing Celtic. It didn’t make any sense.

  Trenton must have picked up on the change in my face. I was sure I’d gone paper pale.

  “Whoa, man. I think you should sit.”

  “You should go,” I said, my vision tunneling in on the headline. I scrolled through the article, a name instantly jumping out at me and hitting me with the force of a bullet train: Johnny Brown. He’d had it out for me since we’d worked together ten years earlier. I never knew why he hated me, but he would only finance my films because he knew they’d make his money back, and not because he actually liked me, which he’d made very clear on multiple occasions.

  And now he was being interviewed, and his name was front and center.

  “Yeah,” he was quoted as saying, “I’m sure he did it. That guy is scum. Nothing but a nice smile.”

  In that one moment, I saw my entire future crumble like a deck of cards. Everything I had worked so damn hard for, all the sacrifices I’d had to make, it was all going to be for nothing.

  Trenton was already out the door of my office by the time shock gave way to anger. My fist balled into my hand, nails digging into my palm. How fucking dare that motherfucker.

  Breathe. Breathe.

  It was getting harder to lift my chest. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to focus on the sensation of the oxygen flowing in through my nose, a technique I’d learned off some meditation app I’d had on my phone for three days before deleting it.

  Follow the air, follow it in, down to my lungs.

  I couldn’t let this spiral, even though it was already pretty much taking the shape of a toilet flush. I had to take control of it.

  Then, as if on cue, my publicist was calling, her name flashing on my screen and shattering any meditative fraud I was committing.

  “Jesus, Blair.”

  “So you know?” She sounded as stressed as I was feeling.

  “Yeah, my bestie, Jean Hill, was more than happy with breaking the news to me.”

  Blair let out a hissed curse on the other line. “Sorry, Liam. I’m already drafting up a statement now. We’ll push it out on all your social media accounts and change the narrative before things get out of hand.”

  “Things are already out of hand. What the hell is Johnny fucking talking about? Giving an interview. That email had to have come from him. I’ve never taken a single cent from anyone. And harassment? He’s the fucking sleaze bag.”

  “Exactly. I think you’re right. I think his office sent that email out. He made a huge mistake opening up that can of worms. We can turn the lens back around on him, show that he’s the villain here.”

  “Right, but we now have to prove I didn’t do anything. Proving a negative, we all know that’s a piece of fucking cake.” My sarcasm was the only outlet I had to relieve some of the boiling pressure inside me. It felt like my chest was about to burst open. I was pacing a circle into the gray carpet underneath me. The storm clouds outside seemed to have multiplied, making my office darker than I liked. Instead of moving to flick on the lights, though, I walked back to my desk and slumped into my chair, putting Blair on speaker and going back to scrolling through the news article, the white light from my phone screen lighting up the office.

  “If it was Johnny, why would he do this? And now? Right before you go into principal photography on Queens? He’s got skin in the game, too; if the movie bombs he takes a hit.”

  “That’s exactly why he’s doing it,” I said. I reached the comment section on the article. It was clearly going to be a cesspool, I knew that, yet I still checked, driven by the same impulse that makes us all drive slower past a grisly accident. I couldn’t turn my eyes away from the comments:

  “What a grimy twat.”

  “Nooo! I looked up to him! So disappointed.”

  “Dumbass. Queens was gonna bomb anyway.”

  Blair asking a question pulled me out of the tar pit of negativity. “Hello? Why is he doing it? You stopped talking… Are you reading shit online? Put the Twitter down, Liam. It’s toxic. Hashtags are not hash browns.”

  “You’re right, you’re right,” I said, minimizing the article but not closing out of it completely. “He’s doing it because he wants me off of Queens. He wants his little brother to direct it, and he knows he could get him the job if I’m off the film, especially if it all happens a few weeks before we start filming. With all that chaos, he won’t have a hard time convincing everyone else that his brother could do the job.”

  “What a fucking rhino shit.”

  I scoffed at that. It was always funny when Blair, who sounded very much like Elsa from Frozen, threw out curses. It was extra funny when she got creative with them.

  “You’re right, he’s a huge rhino turd, but the world doesn’t know that. And so instead, the world is going to think I’m the massive rhino shit.”

  I was going through such a turbulent rush of emotions. The anger I’d been breeding inside me had transformed into a sick sadness that was spreading and sapping my energy. I wanted to fight, but this was going to be one uphill fucking battle. It already felt so out of control, and that was something I hated. My entire life, I needed control; I thrived on it. As a director, that’s what I think made me and my work stand apart. I made sure every damn shot was under control, delivering what I wanted it to. Of course, I was okay with improvisation and understanding that not everything was possible to control, but this… this was all kinds of fucked-up.

  My phone started to buzz as text messages began popping in. First from my assistant, then my friends, then my colleagues. The news was fanning out in an even wider radius. Less and less control. I was feeling nauseous.

  “Blair, I’m going to have to call you back.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t wait for her to say much else. I was scared saying another word would end up with me chucking up my lunch.

  I had to call my lawyer. First and foremost, he’d be the one who I needed to talk to next. And if there was an avenue to pursue for suing Johnny for defamation, then I was going
to take it, and I was already set on that. My hackles were starting to rise. I may have been feeling like my stomach was twisting in knots, but I was also finding fuel for a fight.

  After my lawyer, I had an idea of where to go next. Somewhere I could find help, someone who could look deeper into all of this and hopefully figure out what was really going on.

  But first: lawyer.

  I took a deep breath in, held it… and let it out.

  Who woulda guessed that my night would turn out like this? I was all set to bang a handsome hookup against my desk, and now, suddenly, I was the one being banged. Fucked. Totally and completely fucked—the world was literally fucking me.

  So seriously, find me whoever could have guessed my night would end like this because I would love to have a chat with them about the lotto numbers.

  2 Mark Masters

  “Sorry, but this is the end, Mark. I need to break us up.”

  My jaw dropped open, a perfect landing pad for the fly that had been buzzing around my office earlier in the day. “What… Chris… what?”

  When my boyfriend had texted me saying we needed to talk, I knew something was up, but I didn’t expect a full-on breakup situation. As a detective, I was pretty proud of my ability to pick up on subtle signals, but Chris had given me absolutely zero signs that a breakup was on the horizon. We had just gotten back from a cruise about a month ago, where we had spent four days soaking up the sun and fighting a total of zero times. We never fought, we never had any issues, so this news was coming straight out of the blue.

  “I’m actualizing my desires, Mark. It’s what Raina advised me to do, and it’s something I’ve realized I was thinking about before Raina entered my life.”

  “Raina? The teacher from that one seminar you took two weeks ago? Is that why you’re doing this?”

  “It’s a piece of it, Mark. Just a piece. Trust me. This is for the best. For the both of us.”

  My eyebrows might as well have been scrubbing the ceiling clean. “Are you kidding me? Is this some kind of test?”

  “There’s no test. I think both of our journeys are going in separate directions. I can see it. And so I want to allow the both of us to experience our journeys fully.”

  I narrowed my eyes. This was never how Chris spoke. We’d been going out for a year, and he’d never once used the word “journey” around me. This had to have all come from that seminar he’d taken. He had chugged the Kool-Aid, and I could see there wasn’t much for me to do about it. I wasn’t one to beg, and I certainly wasn’t getting on my knees for Chris ever again.

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Everything was fine between us.”

  “You’ll understand, too, I think. If not, I really recommend you speaking to Raina as well.”

  It was very hard for me not to roll my eyes in that moment, but I stayed strong and didn’t let my inner teenager reign supreme. “Raina is probably the last person I want to speak with right now, Chris.”

  “I know this is difficult, but I’m certain it’s the right thing for the both of us.” There was a certainty in the way his jaw was set and his shoulders were carried, a formation of rigid lines.

  “Wow” was all I could say. I was sitting behind my desk, looking at the man who had made me really happy over the length of our relationship, a man with golden-brown hair that matched those glowing eyes of his. He had never failed to cast some kind of spell on me every time he glanced my way. I never got bored of staring into those eyes. I thought I never would.

  Now I wish I’d never looked into those damn eyes in the first place. “Woow,” I repeated.

  “You’re a great man, Mark. Someone is going to be one hell of a lucky guy with you. But that’s not me.” He clapped his hands, as if he’d just finished the last PowerPoint slide in his timeshare presentation. “I hope you have a great day.” He got up, grabbed the gray backpack he had brought with him, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out. The door was almost shut before he stuck his head back in. “Oh, you can keep the couple of clothes I kept in your closet. I know you like them, and we’re pretty much the same size.”

  One eyebrow arched, the other flatlined. I wanted to say “wow” again but thought that would be expected by now. Instead, all I said was “Okay.”

  And with that, he was gone. A man who I had allowed into my life for a decent chunk of time. I dropped my head in a cave created by my crossed arms. Should I have fought more? I barely argued his point or tried digging for any more information. That wasn’t like me. I was always driven by a need to get to the bottom of things.

  Part of it was the look in his eyes. He was set in his decision, and I knew that—we both did.

  The other part, though… that needed some more soul searching to figure out. I had to take an entire weekend to myself, just reading or biking, doing something to get my thoughts back on track. Maybe then I’d truly understand why I didn’t fight very hard for Chris.

  I raised my head and sat back in my chair. My heart was heavy, and my head was shaking in slight disbelief. I realized then that I’d never been broken up with. Before Chris, I’d had two other serious boyfriends, one of whom I’d broken up with after I found sexts of his with other guys (apparently he forgot I made a living as a detective?) and the other one I ended because he just turned out to be a huge dick, which was not balanced out by the fact that he had a huge dick.

  So this was new. My leg shook, up and down, underneath the table. Outside, I could hear some rustling and voices. For a second I thought it was one of the other detectives walking down the hall with a client, but then the voices stopped right outside my door. I could see two shapes through the frosted glass, then two knocks came.

  “Come in,” I said, rolling my shoulders back and trying to compartmentalize all the negative energy I’d been soaking in only moments before. I’d deal with that later. Although the day was cloudy enough outside to make one o’clock in the afternoon feel like eight at night, I knew it wasn’t actually eight. I was on the clock, and someone was showing up needing my help.

  “Hey, Mark, I’ve got someone here looking for a detective.” Andrew’s voice gave me the dose of positivity I had desperately needed.

  He stepped aside and allowed the client into my office. At first, my eyes settled on a face that was vaguely familiar. Like someone I’d spent a long time looking at but had gone a long time without… someone who meant so much… could it actually be—

  “Liam… holy shit.” I got up from behind my desk. A smile spread wide across my face. I couldn’t believe it.

  “Mark!” Liam clapped his hands, confirming my suspicions. It was him. My best friend from years and years ago. The kid I’d grown up with before he’d moved away, when we lost contact and never reconnected.

  Until now.

  “Wait, you two know each other?” Andrew asked, pointing between us, his brows knitting together.

  Liam doesn’t just know me; he knows more about me than almost anyone else.

  “Yeah, yeah, we used to be childhood friends,” I said, Liam’s smile was wide as he looked me up and down. I couldn’t help but do the same. It was quick but still enough time for me to appreciate how damn good Liam was looking these days. He had short blond hair and warm hazel eyes that reflected a deep intelligence. He was wearing a tight pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt with the word “Love” spray-painted in black across a pocket. It was stylish and was most likely very expensive, which wouldn’t surprise me. I knew how well Liam was doing as a director, which was another reason why I was shocked to see him here. I never thought our paths would have crossed again, but it seemed like there were different plans weaved into fate’s tapestry.

  “What a small world!” Andrew said. He was smiling, too, as if this reunion was the kind that you watch on YouTube involving a soldier and his puppy. “Okay, I’ll be up front if either of you need anything.” He gave a small wave and walked backward out the door, still smiling as he shut it and left me inside my office with my old childhood
friend.

  More than an old friend. Liam was my first love. I could confidently say, looking back, that I’d been in love with Liam, and one of my biggest regrets I’d ever carried was never telling him. I never knew how he would react or what that would mean for our friendship, and so I always kept my strongest emotions to myself. It was like asking a canary to keep quiet, tying their beaks shut just to make sure. What kind of cruelty was that? And I had inflicted that on myself.

  “This is crazy,” Liam said.

  “Yeah... insane,” I said, feeling like I had contracted a spontaneous case of whiplash.

  This is going to be one hell of a case.

  The timing of this entire thing didn’t escape me, either. Chris had just finished walking out of my office, blabbering about actualizing and knowing what was right, then in walked Liam, a relic straight out of my past.

  Hmm… maybe this Raina girl does know what she’s talking about…

  3 Liam Wolfe

  “This is absolutely freaking nuts,” I said, feeling my pulse ratchet up. I instantly recognized him. How could I not? Jesus, Mark had aged like a fine red wine, getting better with every single day that passed. He had a sexy-rugged thing going on, with a well-trimmed five-o’clock shadow that was framing a pair of eyes that could take the breath away from a hurricane. He had heterochromia, so his eyes were two different colors: his left a breathtaking sky blue, and his right had the same blue on the bottom half with a beautiful amber brown color on the top half. Since we were kids, those eyes were always so fascinating to me. Some kids bullied him, but I always made sure those kids shut their traps real quick. I always knew that he had something special, something to be admired. Turns out, I was clearly just ahead of the curve and knew that those two eyes would belong to a man who could hold a room’s attention with a look alone.