Regret : A Santa Barbara story
By Kevin Hardy						Accueil   Home

June 20, 2022

Salt Lake City, Utah

Pearl Bradford was sitting at his antique roll-top desk in the Last Resort Detective Agency’s suite of offices in downtown Salt Lake, these framed by Cain Garver's beloved Wasatch Mountains. There was a look of surprise on his face, his visage partially obscured by his left hand. In his right was the handset from the office’s equally antique landline. “You’re kidding me,” he spoke in open shock, as he twirled the coiled cord between his fingers, “you’re a newlywed?”

“It was pretty unexpected,” Kelly Hartley responded from the other end of the line, this in Laguna Beach, California.

“Didn’t you just meet up with Nicky three weeks ago?” Pearl probed.

“Yep.”

“And you hadn’t seen him in 36 years?”

“Nope.”

“Weren’t you married to Connor three weeks ago?”

“Yep.”

“That is unbelievable,” Pearl exclaimed as he lifted his coarse elbows from the desk and leaned back in his less than antique pleather chair.

“Well, Pearl, my divorce papers came through, Nick was available, and I was hard up, so I thought what the hell,” Kelly frothfully explained as she unconsciously moved to brush phantom hair from her face that had long ago been closely shorn.

“I suppose congratulations are on the menu. Although perhaps there’s one pretty important thing you didn’t consider,” Pearl pointed out.

“What’s that?” Kelly questioned.

“Your name is now Kelly Hartley, they totally rhyme.”

“My God, you’re right,” Kelly gasped in mock concern, “I’ve got to end it, don’t I?”

“I wouldn’t lose any sleep over that,” Pearl slyly remarked.

“Watch the flirting, you rascally oyster shucker you,” Kelly playfully advised, as she wagged a finger Pearl could not see, “Alice wouldn’t like it.”

Pearl laughed heartily, delighted by the twists and turns life introduced along one’s temporal journey. He remembered the painfully shy and mentally disturbed Alice in such vivid detail, that fragile soul trapped in Rawlings’ house of horrors. Now they were married, had three kids and a gaggle of grandkids; it was truly fascinating.

“I should get a move on,” Kelly elected, “Nick and I are going back to the ghost town for the honeymoon.”

“That place is still around?” Pearl queried.

“Yup. Sadly, it’s become a bit of a tourist trap,” she lamented. “$2000 a night, but we thought it would be appropriate.”

“Well, you kids have a good time,” Pearl stated sincerely. “I’m so happy for you, sunshine.”

“Thanks, Pearl,” Kelly recognized, a wide grin on her face. “Give my best to Alice and the kids.”

“Will do. And give Nicky my love.”

A smiling Pearl sat loosely, the handset dangling from his right hand. His head quickly snapped up as a rolled newspaper landed on the walnut stained desk.

“Your rag’s here,” Cain Garver announced with slight disdain. “Tell me,” the bespectacled private detective induced, “we have the greenest office in the state, yet you insist on getting this garbage in print.”

Pearl pondered his grouchy partner, and his oldest friend, with a smirk. “What can I say, my favourite mountain man, I like to see my smut in black and white. Anyhoo, you never know what hidden pearls you’ll find.”

Cain shuddered at his partner’s pun. “That was Kelly Capwell, or McCabe, on the phone?” he asked.

“Kelly Hartley, actually,” Pearl triple rhymed.

“Hartley?” Cain questioned in surprise.

“Right, that was pre your Santa Barbara life,” Pearl reasoned. “Kelly was with Nick before Jeffrey Conrad.”

Cain chuckled. “The lady does get around,” the weathered man retorted. “Listen, I’m going to start working on the Anselmo case. When you’re done with your newspaper, maybe you can join me?”

“You got it, boss,” Pearl acknowledged, doing his best Tattoo impression, this a relic of 1980s television.

“Branching out from the Presidents, huh?” Cain inquired, speaking of Pearl’s long-running fondness for Presidential impressions.

“No detective is fit to sit in judgment upon any other detective,” Pearl spoke grandly, paraphrasing Woodrow Wilson.

Cain sighed and closed Pearl’s office door behind him, while the latter man propped his feet up on his desk and unfolded the newest edition of the National Enquirer. As he perused the articles, he began eating Chicago mix by the handful. Soon, bits of cheese corn, the bag improperly balanced, flew out of his mouth as Pearl’s body went rigid. On the fourth page was a vintage photograph of Courtney Capwell. The headline read:

“My God,” the stunned detective murmured, as long forgotten memories laced his brain.

January 9, 1987

Santa Barbara, California

“Pearl Incorporated,” a young Pearl answered his ringing phone from inside the affluent hidden room of his less than affluent Harbor Street apartment. The 32-year-old had just arrived home after dining with Julia at the Orient Express and was still on a high following his conversation with a hidden Kelly earlier that day. “President Pearl speaking,” he continued jovially.

“Pearl, hi, it’s Brian,” his younger brother greeted him, the man’s voice laced with carefully concealed worry. Pearl’s name was beginning to sound smoother on his lips, he only recently having begun to call Michael by his adopted moniker.

“Brian, what up?” Pearl challenged lightly. “I haven’t spoken to you since before New Year’s. You hocked my coin collection yet?”

“Not to worry,” Brian laughed absently, thinking of the heartfelt Christmas present his brother had gifted him a couple weeks prior, “it is very safe.”

“You want we should get together?” Pearl asked, he feeling so blessed to have his brother back in his life after all the time spent searching.

“Yes, actually,” Brian agreed, “can you meet me at the bungalow?”

“Why there?” Pearl queried in slight confusion, thinking back to December 18^th, when the two had confronted Courtney in that fateful space where her sister’s life had ended.

“Something hasn’t been sitting right,” Brian explained. “I was talking with Jane a couple of days ago and it struck me.”

"What’s that?” Pearl questioned.

"I was going to take Alice out for a banana split, but when Jane came in Alice got pretty jealous and changed her mind.”

"Alice has loved you for a long time,” Pearl insisted.

"That’s what Jane was concerned about. The two of us have been growing closer and Jane is so worried that our relationship will hurt Alice. She said it may be best for us to stop it there and then, that if we did our emotions would fade in time. Then it hit me.”

"I’m feeling a little bit lost here, bro,” Pearl disclosed.

"Jane’s face, her voice,” Brian went on, “they were filled with emotion. It was so completely authentic, that when I stopped to think about it later, I realized those emotions were lacking in Courtney that day at the bungalow when she confessed. Pearl, I don’t think she was being genuine.”

Pearl was aghast, he having fully believed in Courtney’s sincerity and her pain. “You don’t think she killed Madeline?” he asked.

"No, that I believe,” Brian assured him, “but it just seemed a little bit staged, a little forced. So I’ve spent the last two days poring over the case files, looking for anything I could have missed.”

"And?” Pearl prompted.

"Did you ever take a look at the autopsy report?”

"I was a little preoccupied with being arrested at the time,” Pearl pronounced.

"Tell me something, why did the police not find the bullet?"

"There was no reason for them to suspect a gunshot," Pearl speculated, only he, Courtney and Brian knowing about Madeline's weapon.

"Okay, but if Madeline was the one who actually shot the gun, why was no gunpowder residue found on either her hands or her clothing?” Brian persisted.

"Again, what reason did they have to be looking?” Pearl reminded Brian.

"Perhaps you're right, but it's just not sitting right with me."

"Okay, you’ve certainly got my interest. I’ll-”

Brian interrupted Pearl, as he heard a vehicle pull up from outside, the man having already arrived at the bungalow. “Courtney’s outside, Pearl, get here as quick as you can.”

"Brian, don’t let her in until I get there,” Pearl fearfully started, but his only answer was the dial tone. Concerned, Pearl raced to the bungalow, this decoratively challenged place where Madeline had participated in so many secret meetings, and where she had met her untimely end. He was horrified to witness the sight when he entered. A cackling Courtney was beating Brian, landing blow after blow to his bloodied forehead with a one-pound metal dumbbell.

A panting Courtney stopped her downward thrusts as she heard Pearl enter. The crazed lady twirled her head to face Pearl, as droplets of sweat flew off her jet-black hair. “Hey, Pearl,” she laughed, while holding up the blood-soaked dumbbell. “Look, the second one was still here. Do you think I should have gone with a hammer?”

A frantic Pearl rushed for Courtney and knocked the dumbbell out of her hands, Brian’s venous blood dripping from her trembling fingertips. It smashed into the framed picture of red pears above the bed, leaving a large dent in the painted drywall behind. Courtney barely seemed to notice this. “Just like with Madeline,” she squealed, this almost in rapture.

“I don’t understand,” Pearl cried, recalling his ex-lover’s heartfelt confession from just a few weeks prior, “why would you do this? You said that it was an accident!”

“Wake up, Pearl,” Courtney screamed, “how can you be so dense?!”

Pearl’s mind raced back, he rocked by her carefully composed histrionics of three weeks prior. It now occurred to him the hatred she had described that day had been real, but was felt by Courtney herself, not Madeline.

24 Hours Later

Pearl sat stiffly in the waiting room of the Santa Barbara City Hospital. Courtney was en route to Boston, in the custody of her father, Grant Capwell. Her descent into madness had only continued and by the time the authorities turned up, she was barely capable of speech, almost in a catatonic state. Grant’s legal team had been quick to intervene and to keep the situation quiet. Once in Massachusetts, she would be admitted to the Mclean Hospital, which was world renowned for its treatment of the mentally ill. Pearl’s input was nil, the man shaken to the core. He had fought for so many years to find his brother, to mend fences, and now the young man was fighting for his very life just a few rooms away.

Pearl was snapped to alertness by the arrival of a young doctor, her face impassive.

“Mr. Bradford,” she greeted, “I’m Dr. Toni Carlin.”

“Doctor,” Pearl recognized.

“We met briefly when I did a rotation in mental health at Dr. Rawlings’ institute.”

“Yeah, well that wasn’t quite what it seemed,” Pearl divulged. “I do remember you, you were a friend of Kelly’s, right?”

“Still am, I hope. I haven’t heard from her in a while, I pray she’s well.”

Pearl smiled weakly. “She is, trust me,” he reassured her. “Doctor, how is my brother, how’s Brian?”

Toni’s light pecan face hardened. “Mr. Bradford, as you know, your brother was severely beaten. He is in stable condition now, but until the swelling goes down, we have no way to assess if there was brain damage.”

“Can I see him?” Pearl asked worriedly.

“Of course,” she agreed, “this way.”

Toni, her white lab coat kissing the tiled floor, led Pearl into a room, which reeked of disinfectant. Brian lay alone, the room’s other bed sitting empty. The right side of his face seemed to extend an additional fifteen centimetres, this wrapped up in clean gauze. Careful not to interfere with any of the medical equipment surrounding him, Pearl sat down next to Brian and took his brother’s clammy hand in his.

“God, Brian, I am so sorry,” he wept.

Pearl was shocked to see Brian’s left eye flutter in response, and to hear his raspy voice gurgle. “Michael?”

Pearl’s face opened up into a sorrowful smile. “Shhh,” he soothed, “it’s okay Brian, I’m here.”

“I didn’t want to disappear this time,” Brian wailed. “Please, Pearl, tell Jane I didn’t want to disappear this time.”

Brian’s milky eye shut as the monitor to which he was attached began to whine, in that steady, unforgiving tone. Pearl’s face fell, his tears spilling across his brother’s lifeless body.

June 20, 2022

Salt Lake City, Utah

“Earth to Pearl,” Cain spoke with concern, as he shook his partner’s arm. “What you up to?”

Pearl faced Cain, the former man’s age clearly showing. “Oh, about 5'11,” he joked absently.

“You looked pretty lost there,” Cain observed.

“Yeah, listen buddy, I’m going to need to take off for a few days.”

“What’s going on?” a worried Cain asked, as he noted the article the paper was open to, holes now poked through Courtney’s eyes. “Who is Courtney Capwell?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not even sure anymore,” Pearl conceded.

An hour later, Pearl pulled up to his and Alice’s modest ranch style home in Canyon Rim. He sat rigidly in his Hyundai Ioniq, trapped in the haze of his past. Following Brian’s death, he had disappeared for a few days. He felt so lost inside, there not really being anyone left to turn to. He had considered confiding in Tori but was too concerned for hers and her baby’s health after a conversation from a few days before. There was Julia, but she was busy with Gus’s trial. So he sat alone in his apartment as the days rolled by, his thoughts shifting wildly between Brian and a growing obsession with Kelly. The week was a blur, as he briefly emerged, falling into Keith and Gina’s phone trap, this culminating in his having to switch places with Jeffrey en route to Zürich. For the next four days after this, he once more sat mostly in his apartment alone, continuing to mourn intensely. It was during this time he reached out to Jane, he no longer being able to hold the tragedy of Brian’s death inside anymore. The young lady was devastated, being completely caught off guard by the depth of her feelings for the deceased young man. They discussed sharing the news with Alice, but the girl was still so shaken in the aftermath of her father’s trial and her kidnapping by the unbalanced Zach Terry. He and Jane feared news like this could push her back into the shattered child that grew up in the institution, so they made up a lame excuse about Brian needing to get away. With the revelation that Caroline was her real mother, there just never seemed to be the right time to break it to her and eventually she moved to Chicago with her dad.

Subsequent to a private service, attended by only he and Jane, Pearl distracted himself in his pursuit of Kelly, immediately heading off to Zürich in search of her, with Cruz and Eden in tow. More heartache followed from this and about a year after that, he found himself sitting alone at the Lair, the last man standing at Jake’s going away party, pondering the state of his life. His chance for love with Kelly gone, his friends all leaving him, and there being no possibility of a future with Rita, Pearl finally decided to go to Chicago and confess the truth to Alice. In what was to be an unexpected delight, he found a woman who was incredibly strong and self-assured, someone he quickly grew to love. Within the year, they were married, and three children would soon follow. It was the thought of Alice that forced Pearl from his vehicle and into his two-storey house.

“Grampy Pearl!” a cacophony of voices screamed out as he walked into the foyer, four young children instantly slamming into his legs. Despite himself, a small smile formed.

“Hey, guys,” Pearl greeted, confused at first.

“You forgot the kiddies were staying for the month, didn’t you?” a knowing Alice inferred, as she walked confidently into the room. Like always, Pearl took a moment to ponder his wife, so amazed by her growth over the years. How could this one-time fragile girl, someone too traumatized to speak even a single word, have transformed into this wonderfully composed woman, a true leader in her community? On the Salt Lake City council, the elegant lady had truly found her voice.

“Guilty as charged,” Pearl admitted. “Kids, can you play in the yard for a minute, I just have to talk to Gran.”

As the kids went outside to play in the pie-shaped backyard, Pearl led Alice into her home office and sat her down on the small loveseat. “What is it, Pearl?” she asked with concern, her empathic nature coming out in full force.

“I lied to you once and I promised I would never do it again,” Pearl recalled.

Alice nodded worriedly. “Brian,” she remembered. While the feelings she felt for the man were no longer of a romantic nature, there was still a hole in her soul that could never be filled. She felt the loss of each of her loved ones so keenly. And there had been so much loss.

“Yeah, Brian,” Pearl confirmed.

"Pearl, what is it?” a concerned Alice repeated.

"Courtney Capwell was released from the institution,” Pearl blurted out, not knowing how to gently break the news.

Alice’s delicate face opened in shock, her chocolate skin reddening. “Oh my God.”

“I really need to find her,” Pearl continued, “to see her.”

“Why?” Alice asked, this the rare occasion when she was not able to immediately understand her husband’s emotional needs.

“I never got a chance to talk to her after she killed Brian,” Pearl spoke softly, “at least not in any sane way. I just need to look her in the eye.”

“But the kids,” Alice began, “we have them all month while August and Cynthia are in Europe.”

Pearl nodded. “I know. I really did want you with me, but I just don’t think I can wait.”

Alice clasped her hands together and became lost for a few moments in silent reflection. “I understand,” she soon said with great benevolence. “Brian was your brother, you need to pursue this.”

Pearl smiled and kissed Alice lightly on the smooth nape of her neck. “Thanks, honey.”

June 25, 2022

Portland, Oregon

Pearl surveyed the quiet street in Laurelhurst, this framed by rich pine trees, as a wave of anger rushed through him. How did this psychopath deserve to live in such an idyllic location? Living a quiet life, on this quiet family street? Exhaling deeply, he walked up the cobblestone path to the front door of the Cape Cod styled home, one which he rapped once and hard. The steel door opened a few seconds later, its hinges groaning slightly. Pearl did not realize how difficult it would be to gaze on the face of his one-time lover, the face of the person who had brutally murdered her own sister and his brother. The perfectly made-up face that was still so stunning some 35 years later.

"Pearl Bradford,” the woman received in surprise, “now how did you find me?”

"You’re not the only one who can change a name, Courtney Collins,” Pearl reported.

"Ever the detective,” Courtney laughed, “well, I have to try and keep a step ahead of the press. Why don’t you come with me into the backyard, I’ll get us some lemonades.”

Courtney’s hospitality was eminently insulting to Pearl, but he silently agreed and followed her through the tiny home, this devoid of even the most basic of aesthetic qualities. Soon they were sitting on the back deck beneath a pink umbrella, this the only hint of colour in the barren yard, save for Courtney’s striped sundress. Pearl’s sweating glass of lemonade, this topped with a sprig of mint, sat untouched on the laminate tabletop, while Courtney’s was resting between her slender fingers.

"It is so good to see you,” she said sweetly, “I didn’t really get any visitors at the hospital. Dad came by a couple of times. Speaking of Daddy, do you like the place? It was all I was able to afford with what was left of the old man’s estate.”

"This was worth killing your sister over?” Pearl asked rawly, as he glanced briefly from left to right.

"Oh, there was more to it than that,” Courtney laughed. “Don’t forget, Madeline was a royal bitch.”

Pearl pondered Courtney, both amazed and disgusted by her words and body language.

"So tell me, Pearl, what brings you here?” she soon solicited. “You missed me in the bedroom?”

"I just needed to look you in the eyes,” Pearl murmured.

Courtney leaned forward, her lined eyes opened wide, these like green ice. “Drink it in, lover.”

"At least you’ve cut back on the sweet innocent schtick,” Pearl hissed.

Courtney chuckled and placed her hands demurely across her chest, her tone turning sickly saccharine. “No matter how long I live, I’ll never forget that horrible day, Pearl, she was my sister! How could somebody so close, my own flesh and blood, hate me so much?”

Pearl witnessed this mawkish display in undisguised horror, as Courtney’s posture straightened, and her voice once more turned cold. “Remember that?” she gushed. “What did you say to me, that you were proud of me, it took a lot of courage?”

Pearl shrugged, his composure returning. “Congratulations, you convinced me you were a good person.”

“And what are you expecting now?” Courtney pressed, “for me to show regret? Well, I regret nothing, I began planning Madeline’s demise from the time I was five. You should be pleased for her, the murder probably bought her a one-way ticket into Heaven.”

Pearl shook his head tiredly. “I was really hoping you had been helped in the institution,” he whispered.

“Simpletons,” she determined, “so easy to fool. Granted it took a little while longer than I had anticipated.”

Pearl leaned forward, his gaze intense. “I don’t know what happened in your twisted life, sister, and I don’t even really care anymore, but why Brian?”

“Because he couldn’t let it go,” Courtney revealed, her movements and inflections becoming broader. “I’m surprised he waited three weeks. It was flabbergasting how obtuse you both were.”

“He confronted you with the truth?” Pearl presumed.

“He did, and he was acting so holier than thou, such a typical Bradford. A piece of advice for when you’re dealing with a murderess, never turn your back to leave after you accuse her. But enough about me, I’ve been keeping track of you as well. I understand your precious Kelly rejected you once again, and married Nick Hartley. The news made today’s Tribune.”

Pearl shook his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” he realized as he stood up, his eyes never leaving hers.

Courtney rose also. “Well, it has been a pleasure,” she declared coolly. “Give my best to Alice, August, and Cynthia, not to mention those precious grandkids. We should all get together soon.”

Pearl advanced on Courtney with sudden viciousness. His reddened face nearly touching hers, his left hand roughly grabbed her neck. “You stay away from my family,” he warned.

Courtney shoved Pearl away with incredible force and removed a revolver from the pocket of her sundress. Her hand incredibly still, she pressed the muzzle of the gun, this much more powerful than the one Madeline had tried to defend herself with, against Pearl’s perspiring face. Without hesitation, she pulled back on the trigger, but there was only a hollow click.

“Oops,” she laughed, as Pearl stepped back, petrified almost beyond reason. He had not confronted pure evil in this form since Elena Nikolas. Everything that happened next seemed to be unfolding as if in slow motion. With that sick smile still plastered on her face, Courtney turned the gun and pressed it into her forehead. She cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger once more. This time there was a loud bang, a flash of light, and a puff of smoke as a bullet pulverized her face, spraying a geyser of blood into Pearl’s.

A trembling Pearl fell to his knees, as a piercing cry emanated from his wide-open mouth. After what may have been minutes or hours, Pearl pulled out his cell phone and made two calls. One was to the police and one was to Alice. “Yeah, I saw her,” he mumbled, his mind swimming. “Yes, I’m coming home, I have a lot to tell you. I love you so much, Alice.”

Based on characters created by Bridget and Jerome Dobson in association with New World Television and the National Broadcasting Company.