He went up the stairs, careful of the sixth step which was broken. That had been broken since his childhood, as was the picture frame of a rare family photo of all four of them at the top of the stairs. Drew stopped, shining his light down on the broken step. Someone had nailed down a board. Drew carefully tested it, and it held under his weight. He continued to explore the three bedrooms, Margot’s, Jana’s childhood room, and the room he had shared with Molson for years.
They were clean, but Margot’s room contained more patched walls. A pane of the window had been replaced with wood. A drawer was open on her dresser, clean clothes neatly folded within. Drew remembered that Margot hadn’t been one for doing laundry which meant that Molson had probably been the one responsible for the drawer’s contents. A vacuum stood, lonely at the end of the hall.
Molson’s room was obsessively neat and minimalist. He had only a few clothes hanging in the closet. Drew wouldn’t have thought that Molson even lived there if it weren’t for the books on the shelf and the textbook on the nightstand. It was bookmarked, waiting for Molson to return. Drew picked it up, leafing through it. There was a schedule for a practicum at Mercy hospital.
All the textbooks in the room were medical textbooks. Drew frowned. When Molson had said he was doing some schooling, Drew had thought that he might be getting certified as a mechanic. It made sense since Molson worked at an automotive shop.
After all these years, Drew wasn’t certain he knew his brother at all. In the top drawer of the tallboy was a portfolio. In it was a sheaf of paperwork, some of it graded, some of it grades from tests.
His brother was getting near perfect marks. Chemistry, biology, anatomy.
Drew was surprised. Molson had never been one to bring back great grades. Then again, he hadn’t applied himself very well. None of the siblings had good marks as kids.
He was making a serious effort now. Drew could hardly believe it. His kid brother trying to become a doctor.
Checking his watch, Drew knew that he was going to be late. He pulled out his phone as he went back to his truck.
Voicemail.
“I got the keys Molson. I don’t want them back,” Drew paused. “I am worried about protecting Bethany, yet I know that you would never hurt her. When the time comes, just let me know what Tremblay wants. I’ll help however I can. Come by the apartment to pick up the keys and we’ll talk. I’ll even let you make the coffee, although that gut rot you fed me gave me an ulcer. Lawe is going to be investigated and Michael will be let out today. It’s all because of you. I know I don’t ever say it, but I’m proud of you.”
Drew ended the call.
“The nationwide search for billionaire David Ramesly continues. FBI claim that the former head of Ramesly Pharmaceuticals was involved in drug smuggling and money laundering. It’s believed that he framed his oldest son, Michael Ramesly for his crimes. Michael was released from custody yesterday, but there is still no sign of David, who disappeared before FBI could close in on him, making officials wonder if he had been tipped off about his imminent arrest. FBI are satisfied that sons Michael, Maxwell and Noah Ramesly were not involved in the drug smuggling or money laundering. However, Ramesly Pharmaceuticals continues to be investigated and is expected to pay a heavy fine, making the company’s future uncertain.
“Robert Ramesly continues to await his pretrial date which has now been set for next month. The billionaire tycoon of Ramesly Insurance is accused of being a partner in crime with his brother David. The FBI is still investigating Robert and sons Jake, Everett, and Dillon Ramesly as well as the Insurance company.
“In other news…”
Molson shut off his phone, ending the news anchor’s monologue. He’d ignored his messages for the past three days. He took time off work. He found a room to rent for the month since he wasn’t sure about legalities of a condemned house.
He was going to have to find out if he was allowed to get workmen in to repair it. Or if he even wanted to since the property was in Margot’s name. Perhaps he’d just let it fall down.
Three days without talking to Holly. Going cold turkey on the love of his life sucked. Three days of doing almost nothing was brain numbing. Molson was starting to feel itching with the need for something to do.
Molson watched the sun rise over the water. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up here, on the sand, listening to the waves of the ocean. In the middle of the night, unable to sleep, he’d gotten a cab and come here. People would be getting up soon and he’d have to go before someone called the cops. Molson didn’t want to get cited for vagrancy or trespassing.
It was soothing. The sound of the water, the occasional bird. Maybe if he ever scraped together enough money he’d find someplace to live near the water. It wouldn’t have to be big or fancy like the houses behind him. Just something where he could sit on a beach when the mood struck.
Like that was ever going to happen. Those sorts of dreams were for other people.
Holly had called five times. Three times yesterday. Molson wondered when she would finally stop. Fielding must be ecstatic.
Molson tilted his head, so the rays of the sun could catch him a little better. It was starting to warm up a little, yet he didn’t bother to put down the hood of his sweater. There was a weird comfort in just keeping it up, warm around his ears.
Someone jogged past, slowing, then stopping. Molson didn’t look at the person. Perhaps if he just ignored him or her, they would go away.
Moments later, the person dropped to the sit in the sand beside him. Molson heaved an internal sigh as the man got comfortable. He didn’t want company, so he ignored him. A black and white dog sniffed around Molson. Molson’s experience with dogs were to stay away from them. The people he knew kept the animals for security. This one looked like a pet. It snuffled around with its short nose, peeking occasionally at him with large brown eyes.
Molson tentatively held out a hand, letting the animal sniff it.
The man beside him still didn’t say a word.
Finally, out of curiosity, Molson turned to look at the companion. He was surprised to see Michael sitting beside him, watching the rising sun. Molson studied him for a moment before looking out over the water. This was his oldest half-sibling. The man he’d only ever seen in pictures in the newspapers or on television. He wondered why Michael had chosen to stop his morning jog and sit beside him. Molson hadn’t been looking for Michael at all. He knew this stretch of beach was where Michael lived, but Molson had chosen his spot to sit, further away from the Ramesly house.
“I didn’t mean to put the idea in Pop’s head,” Molson was surprised to hear the words come out of him. He hadn’t meant to say anything and yet the words had just popped out without his violation. There was an awkward silence. He sought to clarify what he’d just said. “About framing you. It was a totally different conversation, but he just took the idea and set you up. I’m sorry about that.”
He thought back to the conversation that he and David had on the phone prior to Michael’s arrest. The whole thing filled him with remorse. The worst part was David thanking Molson for the idea of framing Michael. Molson had never been more shocked or angered.
