Descent, p.9
Descent, page 9
“She’d see right through that.”
“So? If I can get her into a program at Harvard or Yale free of charge, why wouldn’t she take it? It’d be a huge boon to her.”
“You can try. My bet is she’ll turn it down.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know her, Dad. I know her better than anyone does. She won’t leave her parents.” And she won’t leave me.
Oh, she swore we were all safe from her, but I didn’t believe a word of it.
“Besides,” I continued. “Keep your friends close, and keep your enemies closer.”
“That’s good advice.”
“It is. You said that to me a long time ago.”
“I wish I’d come up with it. But it’s true, no matter what. Good call, son. We’ll leave her right where she is.”
“I’ve got twenty-four-hour surveillance on her,” I said.
“Another good call.”
“It won’t take long before she’s onto them, though. Wendy figures everything out.”
“A cunning mind inside that one.”
“You’re telling me.” I cocked my head. “I’m wondering, Dad…”
“What?”
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me about her long ago?”
“A man has to make his own mistakes.”
I shook my head. “I don’t get it. You’re obviously not squeamish about pulling guns on people, so—”
“Wait a minute. What makes you say that?”
“Because I saw you do it. You were icy. Not one bit of a quiver.”
“Doesn’t mean I like doing it. I might be good at it—I’ve learned to be—but I hate doing it. I do what I have to do to protect those I love.”
“If that’s the case, why didn’t you take care of Wendy long ago?”
“I’ve told you before. I’m not a killer. Never was.”
“But if you wanted to protect me—”
He sighed. “Don’t think I didn’t consider it. I’ve considered some pretty abhorrent things.”
“Why, then? You could have sent her away, gotten her away from me.”
“I could have.”
“So why—”
“As I said, a man has to learn from his mistakes. Besides, by the time I realized what Wendy Madigan was truly capable of, it was too late.”
I stared at my father, at his sad eyes. He wasn’t lying. No one—even me, at first—could comprehend everything inside Wendy’s head.
He cleared his throat, then. “I’m going away for a while.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What for? And where?”
“I need to go on the down low. Someone nearly recognized me yesterday in Pueblo.”
“Who?”
“One of our old hands. Don’t worry. I took care of him.”
My skin chilled. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“What kind of man do you think I am, Brad?”
“I don’t fucking know, Dad. I saw you point a gun at a guy, remember?”
“I don’t kill people. When I say I took care of him, I mean I got out of there quickly and made sure he was well compensated to keep everything to himself.”
“Why do you have to leave, then?”
“Because it’s the smart thing to do. Besides, I want to check out some property you own down in the Caribbean.”
“I own prop—” Then I remembered. I’d seen the deeds in my father’s files, but I hadn’t paid much attention. Other stuff on my mind. “Those islands. Yeah. I saw the deeds in your files. When did you purchase them?”
“A couple years ago. I had this idea of building a huge resort, but then…other things got in the way. Anyway, my sources tell me an offer is coming in on one of them.”
“I haven’t heard anything. If I’m the owner now, wouldn’t I have heard before you?”
“Not necessarily. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. You should hear in the next few days. In the meantime, I want to go down and check things out. See if it’s worth selling.”
“Shouldn’t I be doing that? Or I can send someone. You shouldn’t be out in the open.”
“Who the hell is going to recognize me on a private island? Besides, it’s perfect timing. I need to lie low. I can go down there, check the place out, and get a tan. God knows I could use a vacation.”
“Being dead isn’t a vacation in itself?” I couldn’t help asking.
“Are you kidding me? It’s been more work than I realized. Do yourself a favor, son.” He looked me straight in the eye. “Never fake your own death. It’s not worth it.”
Chapter Twenty
Daphne
Brad was late for dinner, as usual.
I tried not to let it get to me so I could enjoy Ennis’s company. Unfortunately, he wasn’t his jovial self. The dream he’d had about Patty still had him rattled.
He and I sat in the family room, talking alone, after I told Belinda to hold dinner for a half hour in case Brad arrived.
“Have you thought about talking to anyone about the dream?” I asked Ennis.
“I just had the dream a couple nights ago. I haven’t been able to think about anything other than getting here and investigating.”
“I just meant…” I cleared my throat. “I work with a psychiatrist. Dr. Pelletier. He’s been a big help to me.”
“I’m sorry, love. What are you struggling with?”
I wished I could jump back in time thirty seconds and erase what I’d just said. I’d never told Ennis or Patty the truth about my junior year of high school, and I didn’t want to get into it now. They did know about my mother’s suicide attempt though, and that was still part of what I was dealing with.
“He’s helping me deal with what happened to my mother. I’ve had some anxiety and depression, and I don’t want it to affect the baby.”
“Of course. And he’s helping you?”
I nodded. “He is.”
“Honestly, this is the first time I’ve had a dream that seemed so real. I don’t think I need counseling. I just needed to come here and make sure it wasn’t true.”
“I understand.” More than he knew.
Brad walked into the kitchen then and opened the French doors. Ebony and Brandy ran in.
I stood. “Looks like it’s time for dinner.”
Ennis followed me into the kitchen. Belinda had set the table on the deck out back.
“Hey,” I said. “We have company for dinner.”
Brad looked up from the dogs. “Oh? Hey, Ennis.”
“Hope you don’t mind me barging in.”
“Not at all. When did you get back in the States?”
“Just this morning, actually.”
“Good to see you. I’m going to wash up. You two go ahead and start. Mom’s already out there. Thanks for waiting dinner for me.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across mine.
“No problem.”
Ennis and I joined Mazie on the deck. We made some small talk until Brad arrived.
Belinda’s dinner was delicious, but the conversation was mundane. Brad was quiet, and so was Ennis.
I heeded Dr. Pelletier’s advice and tried to relax and not attempt to follow every word. It was easy. No one was talking about anything important.
Until Mazie finished and excused herself.
Then, Brad, to my astonishment, turned to Ennis. “What are you really doing here?”
Ennis’s eyes widened.
“No offense, man,” Brad continued, “but no one packs up and heads over the Atlantic without letting their friends know they’re coming. Unless they left quickly.”
“Brad…” I said.
“It’s okay, Daph.” Ennis forced out a chuckle. “We both know he’s right.” He quickly explained his troubling dream.
I watched Brad. His facial muscles didn’t move as Ennis told his story. Completely immobile. Oddly immobile. As if he were forcing his expression to remain the same.
You’re probably imagining it.
I actually heard the thought in Dr. Pelletier’s voice.
But I knew my husband. He was off again, just like he’d been during dinner with my parents.
“I understand why you’d be upset by the nightmare,” Brad said. “But Patty’s parents are the ones who told us she’d decided to join the Peace Corps.”
“I know that. But isn’t it strange that she just left? Didn’t bother telling any of us? We’d just declared our love for each other, for God’s sake.”
“It does seem strange,” I said. “But she’s not the first friend to leave me and never communicate with me again. It happened to me in high school.” I relayed the story of Sage Peterson’s move and failure to answer any of my letters.
“And that doesn’t strike you as odd that it’s happened twice?” Ennis said.
“If it’s happened twice,” I said, “maybe it’s normal. I don’t know.”
Ennis wrinkled his forehead.
“I’ll tell you what,” Brad said. “Since you came all the way here, I’ll make some phone calls. I have contacts just about everywhere. Someone must know someone at the Peace Corps. I’ll try to get confirmation that Patty’s working with them.”
Ennis nodded eagerly. “That would be great, Brad. Thank you.”
“No problem. Always happy to help out a friend.” Brad stood. “Either of you care for an after-dinner drink?”
“Not while I’m nursing.” Though he already knew that.
“Sure. Anything’s fine with me,” Ennis said.
Brad left and returned a few minutes later with what looked like two bourbons. “I don’t have any decent wine in the house. I’m looking to hire a vintner. Our vineyards bloomed in spring, and we’re expecting a hell of a harvest. My father had a top-scale wine-producing facility built on the east quadrant a year and a half ago. If I don’t find someone soon, I’ll have to arrange to sell our grapes to another winery.”
“I know a little about wine,” Ennis said.
“You do?” Brad lifted his eyebrows.
“Sounds strange, huh? A Brit who knows about wine?” Ennis chuckled. “I have an uncle who married a Frenchwoman. They live in the Bordeaux region of France, where her father’s a winemaker. I’ve visited there since I was a kid, and my aunt has taught me a lot.”
“The job’s yours, then.”
Ennis laughed. “I said I know a little. I can’t take the job, of course, but I could help you talk to candidates while I’m here.”
“Really?” Brad lifted his drink in a toast. “That would be great. Thanks, man.”
“Happy to help. Especially since you’re looking into the Patty situation for me.”
“I’ve got a folder full of résumés,” Brad said. “I’d love it if you went through them and picked out the ones I should interview. Then, if you can stay awhile, you can sit in on the interviews with me.”
“Sure.”
“What about your work, Ennis?” I asked.
“I’m between jobs right now. Not an issue.”
Odd. Ennis had chosen to leave college and he’d begun working at a marketing firm when he returned to London after Patty left. That was only three months ago. Had he lost his job?
I didn’t feel comfortable asking.
Besides, I loved the idea of having Ennis around for a while. It was nice to have a friend again. One that wouldn’t pick up and leave and then never communicate with me again.
“If you’re going to be around for a while,” I said, “you should stay here instead of the hotel. We have plenty of room. Right, Brad?”
Brad’s facial muscles tensed, but only for a split second. “Yeah, sure. Love to have you.”
“All right,” Ennis said. “I appreciate it. I’ll pack up in the morning and head back over here.”
I left Brad and Ennis enjoying their drinks on the deck and went into the nursery to check on Jonah. He was sleeping soundly, but he’d be up in an hour or so for his evening feeding. I stood over his crib, just staring at his chubby little face, his perfect beauty.
“All for you, little dove. Everything Daddy and I do is for you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Brad
Ennis was a good guy, but having him snooping around about Patty wasn’t a good thing. Then Daphne invited him to stay with us, which normally wouldn’t be an issue. I was still trying to figure out who’d been behind the threats against little Joe and the deaths of Murph and Patty. I couldn’t do that with Patty’s “jilted lover” hanging around.
The wine thing was a godsend. I’d sent him back to the hotel with a file folder full of résumés to review. I could keep him busy helping me find a vintner while I gathered a fake PI report that Patty was indeed in Africa working for the Peace Corps.
I was disgusted that my father’s high-priced PIs hadn’t uncovered the culprits behind all these messes. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought someone was paying them off not to find anything.
But who had that kind of money? Seriously, who had more money than I did and also wanted to keep this information a secret?
Only the Future Lawmakers had money, and they didn’t have the kind of money I had. If they’d offered my PIs something more, I could easily top their offer tenfold.
Then an icicle scraped along my skin.
One thing trumped money.
Life.
I’d seen that in action when my father threatened Dr. Pelletier.
Someone had threatened my PIs.
What else could have happened?
Time to make a phone call to my lead PI. I dialed.
“Morey here.”
Jason Morey. Aged forty-three. My father’s go-to investigator. He supervised a team of ten who were currently working on our cases. We’d paid them millions over the years. Fucking millions.
“Brad Steel,” I said.
“Hey, Steel. What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me who’s been threatening you.”
A pause. Then, “What the hell are you talking about?”
I cleared my throat. “You and I both know you and your men are the best in the business. It’s been nearly a year since my best man was killed at my wedding. Months since my wife’s friend was brutally murdered. Since my son was threatened. Yet you’ve given me nothing.”
“We’ve been through this. Whoever is responsible covered their tracks. Like you said, it’s been a year. The trail’s gone cold, man.”
“You’ll never convince me you’re that incompetent, Morey.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what it means. You’re the best. My father’s top guys. He’s told me stories about how you’ve uncovered needles in haystacks in the past. But this stuff is eluding you? Doesn’t make sense.”
“Look, I—”
“Save it. We’ve paid you millions. So either someone out there has paid you more not to tell us what’s going on, which I doubt, or your lives have been threatened.”
Silence on the other end of the line.
Yup. Bingo.
“Spill it, Morey.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can.”
“Your phone might be tapped.”
“I have the best security team in the business. Nothing is tapped in my home.”
“What if someone got to your security team?”
My blood ran cold. If someone could get to my PIs, someone could get to my security team.
My father’s MO was starting to make sense to me.
And that was fucked up.
What the hell was happening? I was one of the good guys. I had integrity, good faith, good ethics.
I worked hard every day, to the point where I sacrificed time with my wife and son.
And in the end, that wasn’t enough.
No. In the end, I was being forced into shoes I didn’t want to wear. I was becoming my father.
Fuck it all to hell. Jason Morey was making me question everyone around me. Was this how my father had lived his whole life?
“Meet me, then,” I said.
“Tonight? It’s already ten.”
“It’ll be worth your while. There’s a pub in the city. It’s a dive, but it’s safe.”
“How do you know?”
“My father told me about it.”
An hour later, Morey and I sat at a dark table in the pub. A couple of guys sat at the bar, but otherwise the place was empty. We ordered two bourbons.
This was it.
This was a turning point for me. If I couldn’t get Morey to level with me, I had to do something drastic.
“Spill it,” I said.
“I can’t.”
“You can. Who’s responsible for the murders? For the threats against my son?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit, Steel. I actually don’t know.”
“So you suck as a PI? Is that the shit you’re slinging?”
He took a sip of his drink and shook his head. “No. I don’t suck. I could have solved this case a year ago.”
“I figured as much. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Someone came to me. Masked. Put a gun inside my mouth and told me if I investigated your case, he’d rape my pregnant wife and make me watch as he cut out the child.” He shuddered. “You don’t recover from that kind of shit.”
Chills ran through me, but I held my face in check.
Whoever we were dealing with was a psycho. A fucking psycho.
“Your wife and kid are okay?”
He nodded. “So far. But these lunatics visit me a couple times a month to reiterate what they’re capable of.”
“Where do they visit you?”
“Sometimes at my office. Sometimes at home.”
“When Lora’s home?”
“Yeah. Sometimes.”
“How do you keep it from her?”
“They…” Morey shakes his head. “I can’t fucking believe this.”
“What? What does he do?”
“They inject her with something. She stays out for a couple of hours and then doesn’t remember anything.”
“Fuck.”
“It’s terrifying. The first time they did it, she was still pregnant. I was so scared something would happen to the baby. But she’s all right, thank God.”
