A slight widening of his nostrils was the only indication that the butler understood his threats. He stiffly turned and walked away again.
One minute and fifty seconds later, Daniel Fletcher appeared. Haughtiness dripped from him like poison. The man made no effort to hide his hostility, and Noah was glad for it. Straight-on hatred was easier to face than fake politeness.
Fletcher’s eyes snapped with arrogance as he demanded, “Mr. McCall, what is the meaning of this?”
Noah made a tactical decision. He strode forward, stopped an inch from the man’s face, crowding him. “Are you in cahoots with Reddington? Did you arrange to have my family kidnapped? My people shot at?”
Startled, Fletcher stumbled back into a table behind him, knocking over what Noah was sure were priceless antiques. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I resent—”
“Resent all you want, asshole. Did you have anything to do with my family being taken?”
Fletcher recovered somewhat, the arrogance leaping back into his eyes. “Do you know who you’re talking to? How dare you?”
“I dare plenty.”
“Get out of my house. Now.”
“When I get proof, and I will, that you were involved in my family’s abduction, you and your goons are going down. You got that?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I—”
“Have you got Giovanni stashed here or at another place?”
“Who? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“The kid isn’t yours.”
“If some woman is making claims that I am the father of her—”
“Stow it, Fletcher.” Even knowing it wouldn’t happen, Noah made the offer anyway. “You have one day to return Giovanni to his mother.” Grabbing the man’s smooth, manicured hand, Noah shoved a piece of paper into the sweaty palm. “Bring him to this location at two o’clock tomorrow. You don’t show, you’ll regret it. That’s a promise.”
Raising his own arrogant brow, Noah gave the man one last insulting look and stalked out the door.
Quivering with a rage he’d never known before, Daniel dropped into a chair. How dare he? How. Dare. He? The man was a lunatic. He would have him arrested. Have him torn apart in the media. By the time he was through with him, his organization would be disintegrated, destroyed. He—
No. He couldn’t do that. Common sense washed away the initial rage. Media attention was the last thing he wanted. This had to be done silently. If he involved too many people, questions would be asked. The boy was a closely guarded secret. Clarissa hadn’t yet decided how she wanted to bring him to the forefront. Daniel had promised her this concession. Until she decided, no one could know. For right now, everything had to be done in secret.
Involving Reddington had been a mistake, he would admit that to himself. The man was not only pond scum, he had failed to deliver what he promised. Giselle and the boy’s father were still alive. The moment he’d seen Sanchez, he had known who he was. Seeing the grown-up version of the boy had been a shock.
He took a long, deep breath. He was back in control now and knew exactly what needed to be done. He also knew the man who could make it happen.
Standing, he went to his desk and pressed an intercom button. “Get me Cato Cavendar. And tell my attorney I want to see him immediately.”
Feeling more settled now that he had plans in place, he strode to the window and looked out at the city, at the people milling around like ants. Though he was only twelve stories higher than they were, he was realms above them where it really counted. They went about their day-to-day lives never knowing that they were being used, manipulated, or simply ignored. Those little cogs in the wheel of life believed they had control over their destinies. He guessed in some sense they did, since he couldn’t care less about most of them. They made tiny little decisions for their tiny little lives. They meant nothing to him. Most of them were superfluous, a waste of space and oxygen.
The cellphone in his pocket chimed with a familiar tune, reminding him that a few of those small cogs were necessary to put things in order. Holding the phone to his ear, and with the arrogance of the generations of power and wealth behind him, he said, “Mr. Cavendar, I have several new assignments for you and your people.”
Chapter Twenty-three
New Orleans, Louisiana
Giselle gazed up at the house that would be her home until this was over. She had never been to New Orleans, but had always wanted to visit. Considering they had flown from Virginia to Louisiana under the cover of night and, after landing, were hustled into an SUV with darkened windows, she had little hope of actually being able to see anything of the city.
According to Raphael, the safe house belonged to a secret government entity and was as secure as any place on earth. The house was a white, two-story structure that looked as though a fresh coat of paint hadn’t been applied in a couple of decades. In its day, the house had likely been lovely and grand. Now it looked sad, lonely, and unloved.
From what she could tell, it had balconies on all sides and both floors. She spotted several rocking chairs on the first-floor balconies, along with an ancient-looking swing. The house was nestled in a small, swampy forest, and Giselle thought that was likely the biggest reason it was considered so safe. No one, unless they were specifically looking for a house, would even know it was here. Nor would anyone believe it was inhabited.
“Let’s get inside.”
A hand barely touched her elbow to urge her forward. When Raphael had told her they were going to a safe house and would have to remain there until the danger passed, his cool expression had told her all she needed to know about how he felt about the arrangements. He had no desire to be with her.
She told herself that was fine. She wasn’t here for a vacation or a cozy hookup with a former lover. She was here to work tirelessly on finding a way to get her son back to her safely. If it involved staying with a man who hated her, then so be it. She’d been through much worse.
She stepped up onto the rickety steps, wincing slightly at the loose-looking boards. “You’re sure this is safe?”
“Yes. You’ll see why.”
He opened the door, and the instant she walked inside, she realized what he meant. The outside was all for show. The inside was a lovely, vibrant, updated house that anyone would love. She felt instantly at home.
She turned to face the man behind her, ready to get started. “Okay. What now?”
Dropping their bags onto the shiny hardwood floor, Raphael gave a quick nod, as if appreciating her all-business demeanor. “The information you’ve already given us was just preliminary stuff. I need it all. Impressions, theories, conjecture. I want to know where you think their money is tied up, where they put it, who they trust. We’re already digging into Hugh Rawlings. But there might be more just like him. I need names. People who dropped by, attended their dinner parties, rubbed elbows with them.”
“What good will that do?”
“I won’t know till I hear it.”
She gritted her teeth. Okay. Fine. It didn’t sound helpful to her, but she would trust LCR’s judgment. She opened her mouth to respond in the same cool, businesslike demeanor and then stopped. His eyes were glazed with fatigue, and his mouth was a straight, grim line. How much sleep had he had in the last few days?
“We could take a few hours and rest, if you like.”
“Not unless you need it. I’m fine.”
His tone told her everything she needed to know. He was used to being in the thick of things. Not only had she made him a target, he was having to babysit her instead. The least she could do was what he asked of her.
“No, I’m good. Where do you want me to start?”
They walked into a small comfortable-looking sitting room. Giselle headed to a cozy rocking chair in the corner. Raphael continued to stand, and she wondered if he thought he might keel over if he got too comfortable.
Standing by an empty fireplace, Raphael propped an arm along the ma
ntel and said, “Start at the beginning, when you first met Fletcher. You said you didn’t know who he was, or his family.”
How many times was she going to have to go over the same thing? “As I said, I had no idea who he was. If I had, I would have stayed as far away from him as possible.”
“How old was Giovanni when you met Fletcher?”
“How does this relate to finding out more about the family?”
“Giovanni is my son, something you so conveniently tried to forget. I believe I have a right to know when my son met your husband.”
Though something shriveled within her at his words, she answered evenly, “Giovanni was three when I first introduced him to Danny.”
“Was he good to him?”
“Yes. He was.”
“Care to expand on that statement?”
She rose from her chair, pacing in front of him. “What exactly do you want me to say, Raphael? Did he call him Papa? No. He called him Danny. Did Danny teach him things a father teaches his son? Yes, probably. Maybe. Since I didn’t have a very good example, I can’t really say.”
She stopped in front of him. “What exactly is it you’re looking for, other than to punish me?”
The repressed anger in his eyes was an awesome thing, frightening her and thrilling her at the same time. Without warning, he gripped her arms and pulled her against him. Glaring down at her, his black eyes flashed brilliantly with both fury and something else. Something she dared not hope to see. Maybe something lingered between them after all.
“Raphael?” His name came out soft as a whisper, filled with that hope.
Raphael ground his teeth until he thought his jaw would crack. He wanted her. How the hell could he even justify this passion after what she had done? Keeping his son a secret for all these years was unforgivable. He shouldn’t want to have anything else to do with her.
“Would you ever have told me about him?”
“What?” she asked in a soft whisper that went straight to his groin as if she had caressed him.
Ignoring the demands of his body, he gritted out, “If the Fletchers hadn’t taken him away from you, would you have ever come to me, told me about my son?”
Before she could answer, he released the grip on her arms and walked away. He didn’t want to know the answer.
Stalking to the window, he peered out. “Forget I asked that. Let’s continue,” he said. “You married in Vegas, and the first notice you received of his family’s identity was the articles in the tabloids. Correct?”
She sat on the sofa again, silent for several seconds. “Yes and no. I don’t read the tabloids. We were staying in a penthouse suite at one of the hotels on the Strip. I knew Danny was well-off. He had a very nice apartment close to the university, drove an expensive car. Mackie, our WITSEC handler, told me he was from a wealthy family. But he was throwing money around lavishly in Vegas. It all just seemed over the top. Almost manic. I mentioned to him that perhaps we should talk about finances.”
She paused for several more seconds, and he knew this had to be difficult and humiliating to not only remember but to have to share it with him.
“He slid a couple of newspapers toward me. Said, ‘Surprise!’” She huffed out an angry breath. “It was all there, in black and white. The son of the wealthy and powerful Fletchers had married Giselle Reddington, the daughter of a convicted murderer and human trafficker. That was my first clue.”
“Son of a bitch.”
She laughed at his words. “That’s one thing I know firsthand. Clarissa Fletcher is indeed a bitch.”
All humor gone, she continued, “When he showed me the papers, I told him he had put my family in terrible jeopardy. He laughed. Said that no one would ever dare touch a Fletcher. Now that I was one of them, I was safer than anyone in the world.”
“And to hell with the rest of your family.”
The sheer carelessness and arrogance of the bastard made Raphael wish he weren’t dead so he could beat the hell out of him.
“What about his parents? That’s how they found out, too? From the tabloids?”
“No.” Her voice held a minute amount of dry humor. “As you might imagine, the Fletchers don’t read what they call gossip rags. Some of the more legitimate news outlets called his parents’ PR people to ask them to confirm or deny.”
Forcing himself to ignore the pain in her voice was hard. “Did you go see them?”
“Not immediately. I had to fly home and see my family. Mama was devastated, but she had no choice. They had to get new identities, leave North Carolina. She had to think of Amelia and Eric, and herself.” A closed look came over her face, and she shook her head. “I said goodbye, picked up Gio, and then we went to New York.”
Even though he’d like nothing better than to hear her talk more about their son, Raphael continued, “And Danny? How did he act?”
She shrugged. “Like a child who was bored with his new toy. Once his parents knew, the surprise was over. The fun had been taken out of the game.”
From what he could tell, the asshole hadn’t been much more than a spoiled brat who thought of no one but himself.
“Were his parents furious?”
“You would think, wouldn’t you? Again, I had no concept of their antipathy. They were polite, almost kind. Since Danny and I were both about to graduate college, we talked about where we would live after graduation. They suggested we come there for the summer, and we could decide then what we wanted to do.”
Raphael heard her move and turned. She’d gotten up from the sofa and, with her arms wrapped around herself, began to pace around the room.
“And so after graduation, you went to live with them.”
“Yes. There was plenty of room. Fifteen bedrooms, eighteen baths, and three living rooms made it easy to avoid each other.”
“How was Gio during that time? Did he understand what was going on?”
“Gio is incredibly adaptable. He’s amazingly self-assured and wise beyond his years.”
Love softened the strain on her face. Whatever her mistakes, Raphael knew that she loved her son with all her heart. He hadn’t doubted it, but seeing the physical proof did something to him…something that made him wary. Softening toward her was not a good idea. If he let his guard down, he couldn’t do his job.
“He looked upon everything as a new adventure. He already loved Danny. When he met his new grandparents, it was like Christmas for him. They gave him presents, treated him as if he were their own.”
“Do you think they really love him?”
“Daniel? No, not at all. He’s a tool to be used. I do think Clarissa loves him, but it’s a terrible kind of love. The kind that smothers and destroys. I saw what that kind of love did to Danny. I don’t want that for my son. She wants to control him, manipulate him. Turn him into them. I won’t have it. They—”
She stopped, sent him a mutinous look. “He doesn’t belong to them.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
At least that was one thing they could agree upon. Gio was their child. The Fletchers had no claim on him. All they had was the sheer arrogance that whatever they wanted, they could have.
He was reminded of the text he had received from McCall a few moments before they’d landed at the airport. He hadn’t yet said anything to Giselle, but he would have to soon.
“And their friends. How did they treat you?”
“Standoffish at first. They were taking the lead from Daniel and Clarissa, but they were careful, as if they weren’t quite sure everything was legitimate. They were smarter than me. I believed everything. Even though I was still furious with Danny, I thought things were falling into place. That I had a real family again.”
There was no bitterness or self-pity in her voice. She stated it in a matter-of-fact manner. He could certainly understand why she had longed for a family. Having had her family taken from her, her entire world ripped apart not once but twice, had to have made her long for stability and a loving family once
again.
His own experience with family was different, but when he’d found LCR, all of that had changed. They weren’t a traditional family, but there was love, respect, and caring. All the elements of what a family was meant to be.
“Their friends. The Fletchers have a lot?”
“Friends? Yes and no. More like acquaintances, I think. They know a lot of influential people. There were parties and events at least once a month at one of their homes. And they attended several throughout the month at other people’s homes.”
“You attended them?”
“Some of them. Yes.”
Walking over to a desk, he grabbed a notepad and pen and took them to her. “Write down every person you met that you can remember. Something in the mass of information you have in your head about the Fletchers is what’s going to get Gio back for you.”
“How?”
“Because we need to find their weaknesses. One of those people might be the key to that weakness.”
“But Gio is my son…our son. Why can’t we just demand they give him to us? I couldn’t do it myself. I knew they would kill me. And neither can you, since they want to kill you, too. There’s got to be someone that LCR trusts that can demand…” Her voice trailed off as she caught the expression on his face. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He gave her a condensed version of Noah’s confrontation with Daniel Fletcher. He had known Noah planned to confront Fletcher and, with all his might, had wanted to be there, too. He had forced himself to follow their plan. Confronting Fletcher would have been for his ego only. He wanted to slam his fist into Daniel Fletcher’s face and demand the return of his son. That likely wouldn’t have gotten him anything but a stint in jail. The Fletchers were too damn powerful to be treated like the scumbags they were.
“I don’t imagine Daniel has ever had anyone talk to him like that.”
“McCall said he didn’t expect it to happen, but before he left, he demanded that Gio be brought to a location the next day.”
She gasped, hope gleaming in her eyes. “What happened? Did anyone show up? Did he bring Gio?”
Running Strong Page 18
