“We’re all monsters, but my brother’s the worst.”
—Brenda Tower
Jules sat in her apartment and stared out the window at the apartment building across the street. She was thinking about Brenda Tower. She hoped she was okay. Hard as it was to believe, she considered Brenda a friend.
Jules remembered the first time Brenda had suggested they get together. She had asked Jules to meet her late at night in a discreet hotel room after a charity event. Brenda believed she could ditch her bodyguards and surveillance team and that the two of them could meet privately. Jules had wondered why Tower’s reclusive-billionaire sister wanted to meet someone so openly hostile to her family.
When Brenda informed her that she loved her articles on the Tower dynasty, Jules was frankly skeptical.
“No, I love your articles,” Brenda had said.
“Why—y—y—y?” Jules had said, letting the word drag out.
“Largely because my brother loathes them. You really get under his skin.”
“But you’re part of the Tower clan too—a very influential part. My articles aren’t kind to you.”
“I don’t disagree with anything you’ve written. We’re all monsters, but my brother’s the worst. He should have been jailed a long time ago.”
“You aren’t helpless,” Jules said. “You don’t have to look the other way and do nothing.”
“True, but you also don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s younger than I am, and I’ve been watching him, up close and personal, since he was born. I’ve seen him do horrifying things—things you can’t even imagine. For me to directly challenge him—well, that’s not a safe or even viable option.”
“So you’re saying your brother’s even worse than what I’ve written. That he’d actually harm you? You’re saying you—the person closer to him than anyone in the world—are terrified of him.”
“I have reason to be afraid. You never knew our little brother, Ronnie. I saw what J. T. did to him, and I saw what J. T. did to the women in his life.”
“He’s reputed to be a rapist. The tabloids over the years have teemed with accusations of sexual predation.”
“Until he sued those papers into submission,” Brenda said.
“He is relentless. He’s sued the papers I’ve worked for.”
“Male or female,” Brenda said, “he doesn’t care, and I’ve never known anyone who could stand up to him.”
“He’s also the world’s number one polluter. The carcinogens from your petrochemical plants are responsible for killing millions of people.”
“And our casinos swindle millions more. He and I were talking about that last night. I asked him why he does it. What he hopes to get out of all these exploitative business dealings, all this death and destruction. Want to hear what he said?”
She took out a small digital recording device.
“What’s that for?” Jules asked.
“He confides in me. I’m the only person he opens up to, and I’ve been taping him without his knowledge for years.”
Shit, Jules thought. J. T.’s sister—the only person in the world who he truly trusts—has been taping him surreptitiously. I may have hit the mother lode—or the sister lode.
“And you invited me here,” Jules asked, “because you want to help me to understand him?”
“Yes,” Brenda said, pouring herself a rock glass of brandy. Jules accepted one herself.
Christ, it was 100-year-old Napoléon cognac.
“Why?”
“You may not believe me,” Brenda asked, “but I actually like you. Maybe I see something of myself in you—something I could have been if I hadn’t been born into the Tower clan.”
“You understand that I’m committed to bringing down everything your family is, does and represents. Yet you want to help me?”
“I lack the courage to go up against Jim, but you’re willing to do it. You aren’t afraid. You’ll never know how much that means to me.”
“I’m not as fearless as you think,” Jules said, shaking her head. “Now my friend Elena, she’d fight a circle saw. You should meet her.”
“I expect I’d like her.”
“I don’t get it,” Jules said. “You’re saying you like me—after all I’ve written about your family—and you?”
“I admire the hell out of you,” Brenda said. “You don’t know it now, but you and I are going to be friends.”
“But J. T. scares you?”
Brenda nodded. Twice.
“Then let’s get him,” Jules said.
Brenda turned on the recorder. The voices were unmistakably those of Brenda and her brother. Jules was entranced.