Illusion, p.1
Illusion, page 1
Table of Contents
Illusion: Utopia the Beginning
Illusion | The Beckett Series Book IV | Copyright @ 2015 Mary Martinez | www.marymartinez.com
DEDICATION
The Beckett Series | By Mary Martinez
About the Author
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Illusion: Utopia the Beginning
(Book IV)
The Beckett Series
By
Mary Martinez
Other books by Mary Martinez
Watching Jenny
Romance and Misconceptions
Classic Murder: Mr. Romance
Chick Magnet
Three Brides and a Dress
Four Sisters
The Beckett Series
Disappear Book I
Innocent Book II
Quiet Book III
Illusion Book V
Abandoned Book VI
Novella eBooks
Charmed and Beguiled
Honky Tonk
Meet Me In Fantasyland
Illusion
The Beckett Series Book IV
Copyright @ 2015 Mary Martinez
www.marymartinez.com
This book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the Names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
Published by Canyonland Press
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Released in the United States of America
Cover artists: LDM Designs
Editor: The Final Polish
DEDICATION
As always a huge thanks to my family and friends for all of their love and support.
Thank you, Toni for traipsing all of New York and Brooklyn with me. Videoing me at Bryant Park where the Beckett’s love to play.
To Ron, my wonderful husband, for humoring me and exploring New York and documenting with pictures my characters’ neighborhoods.
Thank you to my wonderful critique partners, editor, and beta readers, for the help you have given me throughout the Becketts!
I couldn’t have done it without you.
Chapter One
“Home.” Reagan Beckett lounged on top of what her mother called her beast of a Harley regarding her old neighborhood. Ten long years had passed since she’d left in disgrace. True, it was disgrace of her own making, but she’d been so angry and resentful at the time. Over the years, she’d made a tentative truce with her parents, who one and all referred to as the Elders, and had even visited when her job permitted it. Now, an assignment had brought the prodigal daughter back to Brooklyn for an indefinite length of time. Would she be welcome?
She might as well find out. It was time to face the music, if there was any to face, that is. Her hog wouldn’t let her arrive in surprise, so she climbed off. She would have liked to enjoy the quiet well-kept neighborhood, because surprisingly, she had missed it. But the beast wasn’t exactly easy to push, for someone her size anyway. Finally, she guided the bike into the driveway, she kicked the stand out and settled the bike, and turned only to be confronted by a stranger. He was standing in the middle of the Elders' yard as if he actually belonged.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I belong here. Who the hell are you?”
The tawny giant had cop written all over him, then something sparked her memory. She glanced to the house then back at brawny. Her sister, Christine’s, new fiancé.
“You’re David Solomon.”
“I am. And you are...” His gaze slid over her shoulder to the bike and then pinned her again. “...Reagan.”
“I am.”
“Dad, what’s...” A girl bounced out of the house. “Cool, nice hog.”
Reagan raised a brow, most little girls wouldn’t know that term. “Hello there, young person, what’s your name?”
But the girl completely ignored her question, and David didn’t help by giving introductions, so Reagan turned to watch the girl make a circle around the bike. She readied herself in case she had to intervene to save the child. The fuckin’ thing weighed enough to crush an adult. She didn’t need to carry the guilt of the girl’s injury or maybe even death on her conscience. Besides it cost too much for some precocious kid to knock it down.
Finally, the girl turned her attention to the two adults. She rudely stared at Reagan, something she was very used to. She waited until the inevitable revulsion crossed the girl's face, except in this case, it never arrived.
“I like your hair, it’s all spiky and cool. Ohhh... Those boots are awesome.” Then she turned to her dad with a questioning look. “Can I cut my hair?”
“We’ll see. This is Reagan...”
“Oh, cool, you rode that all the way from California?”
The girl seemed to look at Reagan with new respect. Then her attention was again caught by something on Reagan’s person. Her tattoo, Reagan was almost 100 percent sure her dad wouldn’t let her have one of those.
“Is that a dragon?”
Was it? Reagan regarded her shoulder. “It could be. It’s my beast.”
Luckily, the little girl refrained from asking her dad for one. However, now she was busy walking around Reagan as she had done the bike. “So, do you have a lot of those? My dad and my new mom would never let me have one. But when I’m eighteen I think I want Winnie the Pooh on my ankle.”
How old was the little girl? She looked to be around ten. The usual dull ache began in her stomach then deepened as she watched the girl study Reagan and her bike. Lately, every time she glimpsed a little girl of that age it was always the same. And the wonder always caught her by surprise.
Without warning, the girl turned and raced for the door, calling, or screeching was a better term, that Reagan was home and had brought that beast of a Harley with her.
So much for the surprise entrance. David grinned at her, held out the crook of his arm as if they were in a Victorian novel. He led her into the living room where everyone had gathered.
One sweep over the room, and Reagan knew everyone except her twin sister, Glenna, was in attendance. Glenna was the other half of the California twins, as her family called them.
“Reagan!” The Elders exclaimed in unison.
“Hi,” Reagan said.
Lame but it was the only thing she could think to say now the moment was upon her. Not to mention she hadn’t planned on the entire clan being there. Each intimidating in their own way. Together, they were downright overwhelming.
“Where are your bags?” Fred Beckett, the dad half of the Elders, wanted to know.
“You’re not staying here?” Reproof circled around the room with Martha Beckett’s, the mother half of the Elders, words.
Reagan could almost feel condemnation radiating from her siblings. How dare she hurt the Elders this way? She kept her focus on her mother.
“I wanted to surprise you. I just stuffed everything into the saddlebags on my bike. I just got in this morning. I’m here to give you some good news. I hope it is anyway.”
She was known in San Francisco as a young financial wizard. She had a knack at financial investments, and the big businesses often called on her for advice. That was her day job. She’d never had a problem keeping her cover, just that, undercover. But now came the true test. Would her brother, brother-in-law, and soon to be brother-in-law, buy her story? If she passed, then she could carry off the assignment.
“Good news?” her sister, Jessica Beckett Despain, asked.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced at her sister. She had a welcoming grin on her face. Before answering, Reagan took the time to gaze around the room at the family again. Surprise ruffled her already bristled hair. No condemning looks, only welcome. Could she hope?
“Well?” Christine prompted.
Again, before she could answer, she was interrupted. This time by a bite on the ankle.
“Oww.” She looked down and there was a little monster, or child. Dark curls framed the face that now looked up at Reagan, a contented smile on it
“Lucy, that is no way to say hi to your aunt Reagan.” Tyler, her oldest brother, stepped forward and picked up the little darling. “This is Lucy, she’s into biting.”
“So I noticed.” Reagan focused on the tall redhead to his left.
“Hi, I’m Keira. We sort of met at Jessica and Gabe’s wedding; it was so busy, then we had to leave directly after...” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’m glad to meet you properly. I’m sorry about Lucy. She’s teething and everything is a teether. It’s so embarrassing.”
She could imagine if the little demon latched on to every stranger. But Lucy was her niece. And she would be staying for who knew how long, so she better make nice. It wasn’t as though she didn’t like kids, she’d just never been exposed to them. She didn’t have a clue how to deal with them, and had known she wasn’t parent material those many years ago when she left Brooklyn in the first place.
Lucy had one finger in her mouth, presumably biting on it. Did it hurt? No matter, Reagan reached over and took the baby’s free hand, encountering wet gooey whatever, and wished she hadn’t.
“Hello, I’m Aunt Reagan, nice to meet you.” She shook the little fingers. In response, the child promptly let go of Reagan, threw her arm around her dad’s neck and bawled as if she’d been bit. Good lord, this was going to be harder than she thought.
She swallowed and looked at her new sister-in-law. “Sorry.”
“Oh, she is a daddy’s girl. She does the same to me sometimes.” A delightful giggle zipped over Reagan.
She caught the glance her brother bestowed on his wife. Uck, so much love shown in his eyes, it almost made her choke. She’d tried out love once. Never again.
“Come on, Reagan, what is your good news?” Matt stepped around the piano, his brow raised. “You’re killing me here.”
“Whatever.” Reagan rolled her eyes. Though Matt was the one person in the family she could almost tolerate.
That was a fib, if she were honest with herself. She’d met bad, rotten, and just plain evil people. She knew the family friends had always considered her the black sheep of the Becketts. It’d taken most of the ten years of her absence to come to terms with her family. But she’d come to respect her family and forgive their good heartedness. They were good people. And she could be proud of her family. With most of her family gathered, her black heart swelled with love. She knew, cover be damned, if she needed help with her assignment they had her back.
“Okay. The good news is...” She turned and winked at the little girl of David’s. “...I’m staying in Brooklyn while I do about six months or so of mandatory continuing education. I have an apartment over in Fort Green. The rest of my things are being shipped.”
Her mom jumped with an excited clap, and the woman fairly flew to envelop Reagan in a hug. Then her dad was there, and the family had closed in. When she’d left San Francisco, she’d dreaded this moment.
Why?
“This is fantastic. Let’s do a girls' day.” Jessica pushed, literally pushed, the Elders out of the way to have her turn at Reagan.
“I’m in.” Christine wormed her way in a little more hybrid manner, but soon she had her in a hug.
Then Keira, a person she’d barely met, threw her arms around Reagan’s much smaller frame. “Oh, I’m in too. What fun!”
Reagan finally managed to extricate herself from all the exuberant well meaning. She mentally brushed herself off, took a deep breath, and wondered how this had come about. A girls' day? Didn’t that mean shopping? Really? Did she look like Glenna? Well, yes, she did. Obviously, they’d switched the two, because she’d rather eat dirt than shop.
Gabe, who she’d only met the year before at Jessica and his wedding, stepped forward. “Reagan, it’s nice to see you again. I’m glad you’re here now. Your family has missed you.” He clamped a hand on her shoulder, a very commanding hold, as if he wanted to convey something, but not in words. “Don’t look so panicked, a day with your sisters can’t hurt. Besides, I think there is a bit more to Jessica’s girl day.”
A bit more? What did he mean? The next moment, her mother turned her attention to her other daughter. Reagan felt the release of attention as if it were a physical thing. She could breathe and observe now.
“Jessica?” Martha folded her arms over her chest and raised a brow. The look, Reagan remembered.
“Mother?” Jessica gave back.
Oh, her sister was going to be a younger version of their mother when she had kids of her own. Not a bad thing. Now that Reagan could look back without feeling overwhelmed, she could see how great her parents were. She’d fought them every step of the way. And still they loved her and never gave up. And then she’d abandoned them.
And they still loved her.
“Answer your mother,” Fred said quietly
Reagan didn’t know how, but her father still had the power to make you feel ten inches tall with his quiet voice. Had she ever heard him raise his voice? Not even when she’d been in all the trouble before she left town. Some things never changed.
Her sister didn’t answer, she turned to her husband, who somehow, through husband and wife telepathy or something, promptly went to her side and slipped an arm around her shoulders. Two standing strong together. Was she ill? Did she have that C word? Had she come home in time to watch her sister die?
Then the room radiated with Jessica’s smile. “I’m pregnant.”
What? God, she was never going to survive her family. Terrorists were so much easier to understand.
“Another baby!” Martha cried. And she swept Jessica into a hug, somehow managing to separate her from Gabe in the process. “Another baby, I can’t believe it.”
Martha swiped a tear from her eye, and stepped into Fred’s embrace. “Honey, we are so blessed.” His hushed voice warmed Reagan.
Reagan tried to remind herself why she’d stayed away so long. Family. “Ouch.”
She looked down and the darling demon, Lucy, was checking out her other ankle.
“Lucy!” This time, Keira to the rescue. “I’m so sorry.”
“Maybe if you didn’t have such tasty ankles...” Matt snickered, and he had the nerve to pat her on the cheek as he passed. “I’m for food, Family. Isn’t that why we’re all here? Easter dinner?”
“Bite me,” Reagan whispered in Matt’s ear, following him into the kitchen.
Tyler, entirely too close, heard, and with a laugh he said, “I think that’s what she did.”
“I was talking to Matt, Tyler,” Reagan said.
She stopped. Oh, good God, she was ten again. Had she really just said that? Christine snorted, then as if she couldn’t help it burst into a full blown laugh.
She threw her arm around Reagan’s shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re home. Let’s do lunch. I know a great bar not far from the financial district.”
“Much better than shopping.” Reagan smiled. “So is lunch okay for a girls' day, or does it need to include Macy’s?”
Jessica looked to Keira, shrugged, then tilted her head toward Reagan. “I think lunch would work, we could always do our nails after.”
Reagan looked at her nails. She’d never had a manicure in her life. Why bother, she kept them clean and short herself. What was the big deal with other people touching your hands or, worse, your feet for a pedicure?
“Don’t worry, they don’t snip off your fingers or anything.” This came from her sister-in-law.
“I don’t need a manicure. But don’t let that stop the rest of you.”
The day and time was tentatively set for the next week. Reagan promised to let them know her schedule as soon as she knew herself.
Dinner was a boisterous affair, just as Reagan remembered, only more enjoyable. With the block knocked off her shoulder, she was able to relax and contribute to the conversation instead of pretending to be bored. Why had she felt the need to treat her family that way? She only remembered the resentment that would burn in the pit of her stomach, but at the time, she was so confused about emotions she wasn’t mature enough to understand.
Matt stood next to Reagan helping place dishes in the washer while the others cleared the table. Everyone was too full for dessert. By mutual agreement it was put off until everyone had room to actually eat some. Matt caught her hand before she could follow the rest family as they moved to the living room to visit.
