by Ava Miles
He grunted and then coughed loudly. “Like I’d take money from the woman I fancy—or any of you, for that matter. God, do you not know me? No, we’ll figure something out.”
“That’s the kind of lunacy that landed you in here from all the stress,” Clara said, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to argue with you.”
“Enough. I’m too tired, but I will tell you this. Cynthia Newhouse messed with the wrong person—and so did Carlyle Bank. I don’t care how much money someone has, they can’t use their influence to make the bank call in someone’s loan. It’s a crime, and I’ll see her in jail if not hell for this. And if that department store asshole pulled his advertising—”
“Trevor thinks so,” Tanner said. “We’ll have to see what we can do to him.”
“Oh, we’ll do something all right,” Trevor said. “Don’t you worry.”
“Where is your brother? Didn’t my heart attack rate a visit?”
“He was here, Grandpa,” Meredith said. “Now you should rest. Andy…”
Her brother waved his arms like he was shooing swans. “All right, it’s time for most of you to go. Uncle Arthur should be okay, but he needs to rest.”
“That’s not what your text said,” Natalie told him, her hands framing her pregnant belly. “Even the baby got scared.”
“Well, he’s not out of the woods just yet,” Andy said. “He’s showing extreme stress and exhaustion. His heart isn’t too bad for his age, thank God, but he’s going to need to make some changes.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Uncle Arthur barked.
Her brother turned to face him. “Bottom line. You’re overdoing it for a man of your age, and this is a wake-up call.”
“Balderdash,” he scoffed. “It’s just stress.”
“Dad had a heart attack in his fifties,” Meredith pointed out. “It runs in the family.”
“I’m a superior species of Hale, and I’ll tell your father as much when he gets here,” Uncle Arthur said. “Fine, so I’ll eat kale and go to Elizabeth’s Latin dance class and exercise more.”
This time Andy laughed. “If only… We’ll talk about proposed life adjustments with you tomorrow. Right now, it’s late. You really do need to sleep.”
“Sleep is for dead people,” he said. “I hate being here in this see-through gown, hooked up to all these machines.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Meredith said.
“Me too,” Jill echoed.
“No, you both go home to your kids,” he said. “Clara can stay with me. It’s not like she has anything else to do.”
A few of their relatives looked shocked speechless, but Clara just laughed, and Caroline found her smiling for the first time since hearing the news.
“Glad to see this heart attack hasn’t affected your common sense, Arthur,” Clara said, pulling her chair closer to his bedside. “I can have Hargreaves bring you anything you want from home.”
“Finally, your butler has a purpose,” Arthur said. “Caroline, dear, come here for a minute. You too, Trevor. Everyone else can skedaddle. Except you, my dear.” He said that last bit looking Clara in the eyes.
It was clear to Caroline that things had changed between them.
Clara nodded firmly, holding Arthur’s hand as people kissed him on the cheek and said their goodbyes. When everyone else had left, Caroline felt the urge to take Trevor’s hand. He looked so defeated, unlike his usually bullish self.
“Where is J.T. really?” her uncle asked.
Caroline looked at Trevor, who sighed. “I don’t know. He’s not answering his phone, and I haven’t heard from him.”
“What about you?” her uncle asked.
God, he looked so tired. She felt guilty for keeping him up any longer than needed.
“Let me look,” she said, pulling her phone out of her purse. “I’ve tried calling and texting him too, but it’s been a while. Wait, I have a text.”
She opened it, and her heart stopped.
“Well, what does it say?” her uncle prodded.
Trevor reached for her phone and then lowered his hand. “You read it.”
She would have given anything for the words to be different. For them and for her.
Caroline, I’m sorry to do this, but after what Cynthia did to Uncle Arthur, I can’t bear for anyone else to get hurt. Trev used to joke about the deserted island, and maybe he had it right all along. I’m disappearing for a while and won’t be back to start the museum. I’ll text Trev to handle the particulars.
There’s no reason the museum can’t go forward without me now that you and Aunt Clara have the Rembrandt. Please continue on like we planned. I like knowing you’re living your dream, even if I can’t live mine with you. Again, I’m sorry it came to this. I love you, but I just can’t risk hurting you or anyone else again.
Tears streamed down her face. He’d left. Just like that. Part of her understood. The other part wanted to beat her hands against his chest and make him see reason.
“That little shit,” Trevor muttered under his breath. “A deserted island… I can’t believe it.”
“You’ll have to find him, Trevor,” her uncle said, his voice thin. “I won’t have this on my conscience.”
“Nor I,” Clara said, standing up. “A Merriam doesn’t disappear. I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous.”
“He’s been kicked down too many times,” Caroline said, grabbing a tissue. “He couldn’t handle any more.”
“Bullshit,” Uncle Arthur rasped. “When you can’t keep going, you let the people you love carry you. Trev. Caroline. It’s your time. I would go, but I’m tied up to all these damn machines.”
“I’ll find him and drag him back by a chain if I have to,” Trevor said in a hard tone.
Caroline noted his fighting stance and decided to voice her fear. “What if you can’t find him?”
“Don’t insult me,” Trev said.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “What if he won’t come back?” Chains weren’t going to work, and they all knew it. He’d only return if he was willing.
“Then you do everything you can to convince him,” her uncle said. “Even if it means fighting a little dirty.”
“Can you do that, Caroline?” Clara asked. “Because I believe we’ve found ourselves at a decisive moment.”
They all looked at her, even Trevor. She thought about J.T. and how much she loved his sense of adventure and the way he gazed at her right before he kissed her, like she was his entire world. Then she thought about the letters his grandparents had exchanged from across the sea. They’d weathered so many challenges to build a beautiful life together after the war.
“How dirty are we talking?”
Chapter 36
Evading Trevor wasn’t going to be easy, J.T. knew, but to protect him and everyone else, he’d pull out all the stops.
God, he’d never expected Cynthia’s grudge against him would end like this—with someone he loved being physically harmed to the point of almost death.
He texted his brother his instructions with an apology he could only hope Trev would accept. Leaving Caroline and his new life behind was the worst thing imaginable, but in many ways, so was leaving his twin. They’d always had each other’s backs.
Now, he had to go it alone. The aching feeling of loss was like a void inside him.
As he drove to Denver, he called his credit card concierge service and asked for their assistance. He was glad for something to focus on other than the tightness in his chest. There was no way he could take the family jet, so he bought six first class tickets to different locations around the world: Rome, Buenos Aires, Casablanca, Rio de Janeiro, Bangkok, and Hong Kong.
He only planned to use one of the tickets, and that was to Bangkok. Once there, he would have to find way of making sure his passport wasn’t entered into the Thai system, which would keep Trev guessing. From there, he would rent a charter plane under another name and have them drop hi
m off at an island airport with loose security.
His phone continued to ring as he made the arrangements, and his car dashboard showed him who the callers were. Caroline. Trevor. Again and again. Even Evan and Chase called. So far no one else in his direct family, but Trev might be keeping the situation under wraps, hoping he’d find J.T. and talk some sense into him. He knew his brother would want to save them from worrying.
When Cynthia showed up on his caller ID while he was finalizing the tickets, he asked if he could call the sales agent back. This was one call he planned to take.
“How do you feel about almost killing an old man?” he asked without preamble.
He heard a humming sound. “Oh, is that what you think I did? J.T., you give me too much credit.”
Strangling her would be too merciful. “I never thought you’d stoop this low. You’ve become completely morally corrupt. I was the one who left. You want to make me suffer? Come at me, not anyone else.”
And yet she’d also targeted his family business and Caroline, he thought. She had never played fair.
“That old man came at me. You were the one who brought him into our little game.”
He wanted to kick something. “This isn’t a game. This is life, and you’re hurting people who don’t deserve it. I don’t want you around anymore. Don’t you get it? This is why I left you! Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?”
Silence reigned for thirty seconds, and he knew he’d struck a vein.
“Oh, Julian is upset,” she practically purred. “That’s what I’ve wanted all along. You keep evading me so I have to keep upping the stakes. Walking away from your career and your family legacy. Then giving away all that money. What’s up this time? Because I don’t think the Rembrandt is a fake.”
“Of course it’s not a fake,” he said. “I would never leave myself or anyone else open to your arrows. Cynthia, I want this to stop. Right now. You won. Is that what you want to hear?”
“No,” she said with an edge in her voice. “I told you that you’d pay for that for the rest of your life, and I meant it.”
“You’re sick,” he said sadly. “All that time spent in therapy as a child didn’t help you one bit.”
“How dare you!”
He glanced over to see Caroline was calling him on the other line, and his remaining heartstrings broke. He was never going to see her again, and he didn’t know how he could accept that.
“You bet I dare,” he said, letting the force of his rage out. It didn’t matter now.
“Well, you’ll keep paying.”
“No, I won’t,” he said, his tone hard. “I’m done being nice. You crossed the line. I’m going to find evidence you influenced the bank to call in Arthur’s loan, and I’m going to take you down. And if I can prove your father was involved in the newspaper losing its top advertiser, I’m going to fry him too.”
Of course, Trevor might beat him to it, but he didn’t care so long as it forced her to stop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Julian,” she said.
“We’ll see,” he said. “Get ready to wear orange, Cynthia.”
Her outraged exclamation was the last thing he heard before he disconnected the call. He thought about finding evidence of her guilt. How long would it take? And would it really stop her? If he sent her to prison, or her father for that matter—a heartening thought—would it put an end to her harassment? They had money, and they wouldn’t be in jail forever.
None of that could matter. She would finally be held accountable for her actions, and her father too, if he were involved. He’d never liked the man anyway.
Good thing he had a focus.
Otherwise, being on a deserted island away from everything he loved was going to drive him crazy.
Chapter 37
Arthur was a crafty son of a bitch, if he didn’t say so himself. Even holed up in a hospital bed.
No vicious rich bitch was going to do him in. No siree. The heart attack had scared the bejesus out of him, but it wasn’t going to keep him down for long, and it certainly wasn’t going to keep him from suggesting a way out of this infernal mess they’d found themselves in.
Of course, Clara and Trevor had insisted on repaying the loan for him, and even Chase and Evan had offered him financial assistance. His pride didn’t want to agree, but given the timeframe, he didn’t like his options. Why didn’t they understand that he didn’t want anyone to technically own his paper besides him?
Journalistic integrity was sacred in his business, and even though he knew they wouldn’t interfere in the way the paper was run or what stories it pursued, people on the outside might wonder about it. Especially after his Op-Ed and the other articles about the museum. He’d finally drilled that concept through their heads with the help of his son, Alan. Of course, his son would have done anything he’d asked given his condition, and Arthur was glad he would be staying for an extended visit.
Young Trevor had finally suggested another solution. He would find another bank to give the paper a loan, and at a better interest rate, which would help offset the impact of the loss of their main advertiser until they found new clients, which Tanner had made his primary job in the interim.
That was a solution Arthur could live with, and both he and the crew of people eager to throw millions his way had all breathed a sigh of relief.
With that problem resolved, he’d turned to their other concern. Stopping Sin City for good and getting J.T. back to Dare Valley where he belonged.
The people he’d summoned were hovering around his hospital bed—Caroline, Trevor, and Evan Michaels. Clara was there too, of course. She was justice with her shining sword these days, and he loved it. The brat was mostly gone for the moment, but he hoped she’d be back.
“Andy is going to have our hides for interrupting your rest,” Caroline told him, sitting beside Clara in one of the chairs Trevor had hefted over.
“He’s a nuisance, but a good doctor,” he said, fussing with his gown. “It’s so thin you can see through it.”
“Good thing you have such a gorgeous body,” Clara said with a smirk. “Now, talk.”
“Evan, we’re going to need something really special tech-wise. You rigged up some tech solutions to stop Chase from working after his fall, so I’m hoping you can put something together for what I have in mind.”
Trevor crossed his arms, his whole stance calm. Too calm. His brother’s disappearance was weighing on him, and Arthur didn’t blame him. No man should ever feel like his only option was to disappear. Of course, Arthur knew Trevor would find J.T. No one could hide from that man for long.
“What exactly do you have in mind, Uncle Arthur?” Trevor asked.
“There’s little to do in this bed but think, and since it’s freezing cold and noisy from all the other patients’ moaning, I didn’t sleep one wink last night.”
“Which is why you look like hell today,” Clara said, reaching for his hand.
He liked holding hands with her. She’d stayed by his bedside all night, snoring softly in the chair. He’d almost laughed. Imagine purebred Clara Merriam snoring.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said. “Now let’s get down to it. This Newhouse woman needs to be checkmated, and I have an idea how to go about it.”
“I’m already looking into the collusion with the bank and your main advertiser,” Trevor said. “I’m going to nail her and her father. Don’t worry.”
“That’s going to take too much time, and who knows what you’ll find. I’ve always found that banks and rich businessmen cover their asses well. Haven’t you heard of the savings and loan crisis?”
Evan nodded. “Good point. What do you have in mind?”
“What’s the one thing Sin City has in her repertoire?” he asked.
Everyone was silent, and then Clara met his gaze. He knew she’d guessed his plan.
“Her reputation,” Clara said.
“Righto,” he said, reaching for the plastic cu
p filled with water. “Excuse me. Throat is dry.”
Caroline stood and rushed to help him, and he waved her away. Dammit, he wasn’t that much of an invalid.
“I’m getting out of here in a jiffy,” he told them.
Clara simply raised her eyebrows. Andy and his cardiologist had agreed he’d be in the hospital for another four days given his age and condition. That pissed him off, but he’d thought it might be worse. Of course, he knew the insurance companies wanted people out as soon as possible, so perhaps that would work in his favor.
“Anyway, I think it’s time to visit Sin City and make a video recording of it. That’s where you come in, Evan.”
“I’m happy to be of help, sir,” the young man said.
“I was planning on paying her a call already,” Trevor said, his jaw set.
“You’re too tough and intimidating,” Arthur said. “She won’t make a wrong move with you. But with an elderly lady and J.T.’s so-called ex-girlfriend? Play it right, and I think she might say something she wouldn’t want to come out later. I would pay her a visit, but I’m not sure she’d lower her guard, what with me being a journalist.”
“So you think Clara and I should go?” Caroline asked. “I might deck her.”
“Me too,” Clara said, grinning now. “I’ve never wanted to hit another woman before, but I’m feeling very protective of my new boyfriend here.”
Arthur didn’t correct her, but they’d have to find a different term. He was almost eighty, for heaven’s sake.
“I appreciate that, my dear,” he said. “I figure between the two of you, you can get her to say something incriminating.”
“She does a lot of charity work, right?” Caroline glanced at Trevor. “Has she ever raised money for cancer research and the like?”
He lifted his shoulder. “I don’t know, but it’s easy enough to check.”
Caroline was starting to smile, and it was good to see. She’d been walking around hunched over, like she had nothing to live for, what with J.T. leaving. Poor girl.
“We could get her to say she doesn’t care about cancer,” Caroline said.
