Emmitt had told everyone to get in the car the second Grace had rinsed out her mouth. He marched into the station as if he was still in uniform.
For two hours they gave statements and documented everything they knew to be true. And since they couldn’t prove otherwise, and it was in their best interest, they moved forward on the assumption that the vandalism to her car had taken place in Santa Clarita prior to the trip into LA.
Grace was painfully silent during the whole ordeal, and when they exited the station, she walked beside Erin and laced her arm with hers. “I feel like such a fool.”
It was Erin’s turn to comfort Grace. “He’s a master manipulator with charm and charisma. He should spend his time writing a book on the art of bullshitting and getting away with it.”
Grace laughed at her side as they walked through the parking lot. “You sound a lot calmer about this now than you did earlier.”
Erin drew in a deep breath with fresh air. “Walking in there and finally working toward legal action that would actually make Desmond pay for what he’s done to me . . . to all of us . . . felt like I’d just run a marathon and won. Yeah, I’ll be sore and tired when it’s all through, but right now it feels great. He fed on my fear, and you know something? I’m not on the menu anymore.”
“Why do you think he approached me?” Grace asked.
“To prove he could. To scare me into submission.”
Grace stopped beside her parents’ car. “Clearly he didn’t expect that you’d grown proper chesticles since your separation.”
Erin glanced down at her breasts and started to laugh right along with Grace. She hugged the other woman hard. “It would have killed me if he hurt you,” Erin said in her ear.
Grace pulled back, looked her in the eye. “Well, he didn’t. And it wouldn’t have been your fault if he had. He won’t get a second chance.”
Kind words, even if Erin didn’t completely believe them. “Did he at least buy dinner?”
Grace laughed again. “Yes. And I ordered the expensive wine, too.”
Matt joined them along with Nora and Emmitt and clapped his hands together once. “Okay, then. Mom and Dad are taking you to your place to pack a bag. You can either stay with them or us,” he told Grace.
“Oh, please—”
“Gracie?” Emmitt’s voice stopped the argument.
“Fine. At least the bed in the guest room was my old one. It will be better than listening to you guys go at it and remind me that I’m going to be single forever!”
Matt patted his sister on the back. “I was actually thinking you’d stay up in the main house with Parker and Colin.”
“Like that’s any better.” Grace rolled her eyes.
Nora moved in for a hug. “Anytime you need anything . . .”
“Thank you,” Erin said.
“Daily updates,” Emmitt announced.
“I really am sorry I brought all this on you guys.” And she was.
“Young lady?” Emmitt found his dad voice. The one Erin knew existed in the wild but had never heard before.
“Yes, sir?”
He looked her dead in the eye. All amusement vanished from his face. “Let that be the last time you apologize for actions that are not your own. Do you understand me?”
And then he opened his arms and pulled her into a hug.
“I have your father in my office. I think you might want to hear what he has to say.”
They’d called Renee the night before to inform her they had proof Desmond was in the area and that they’d gone to the police. Now it was nine in the morning, and Renee had called on schedule.
“He hasn’t said anything worth hearing for years. What’s changed?”
“Regret is a strong emotion. I’m happy to tell him to take a hike if you want me to, but I’m going to act in your best interest, and right now I think that’s you hearing what he has to say.”
She and Matt were lying in bed drinking coffee when Renee called, and right at that moment he was staring her way. “Up to you. Listening to him doesn’t mean you need to act on anything.”
It was time to face her demons. And talking to her father was one of them. “Fine.”
“Give me two minutes. I’ll be back in my office and put you on speaker.”
She held the phone in her hand and closed her eyes.
“Anytime you wanna hang up, the button’s right there, babe. It’s as simple as that.”
“You always say the right things,” Erin told him.
Matt winked. “I took a class.”
The phone made a clicking noise. “You still there?” Renee asked.
“We are,” Erin replied.
“Okay, Mr. Ashland. You’re on my time and I bill five hundred an hour.”
The deep tenor of her father’s voice filled the line. “Maci?”
“I’m here.”
“Damn . . . I was starting to think I’d never hear your voice again.”
Not the words she expected. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you wanted when you told me to grow up and solve my own problems.” She threw his words at him so fast she hoped his head spun until he was spitting up split pea soup.
“I deserve that.”
“Is there a point to this conversation?” Because she had no desire to fan the flames of the past.
“I called your attorney to make her aware that Desmond had located you. And since your desire to disappear under a new name went as far as to cut your sister off, I knew I was wrong about the man you married. Cutting me off, I understood. I was a shitty father.”
“You can say that again.”
“Anyway—”
“No. You can say that again. I’m not sure I heard it the first time.”
To hear her father take a deep breath and admit it again was worth all the tea in China. “I was a horrible father. I didn’t deserve you or your sister and didn’t realize how empty my life was until I was following Desmond down the crazy hole and believing that he was right about you.”
“Which was?”
“He said you were sick and that he’d been hiding your illness since you married. When Helen showed up on my doorstep a month after you left, she ripped into me. Blamed me for every bruise. She showed me letters that you’d sent to her the week you left.”
Erin remembered the letters well. It was her goodbye to her sister in writing and a warning not to try and find her or risk Desmond using her as bait, or locating her, which would have devastating results. Each letter outlined, in order, what a nightmare her marriage was. It wasn’t evidence so much as a testimony should something happen to her. Erin knew Helen would fight in her memory if it came down to that.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, Maci. I truly am.”
Erin closed her eyes. “I’m not ready to accept your apology.”
“That’s fair. The fact that you’re listening to me is enough. Now, other than hearing your voice and assuring your sister that you’re safe, I came to your attorney’s office to lend emotional support, if you’ll have it, and financial—”
“I don’t want your money.”
Renee cleared her throat. “Five hundred an hour, Maci. Take the money.”
Now wasn’t the time.
“I also have some insight on a few things,” her father said.
“This is where it gets good. Listen up,” Renee said.
“I brought Renee a copy of the gift I gave you and Desmond in regards to Vertex. Collectively you and Desmond own fifty-one percent of the shares of the company.”
“I know that.”
“Collectively. Independently you own twenty percent and Desmond owns thirty-one. I gifted the shares to you as an inheritance. This isn’t something Desmond can take from you when you divorce. I did see that as a problem for the daughter of a wealthy man.”
“Desmond told me it was a dowry and you gave it to him.”
“I gave him the right to be able to control Vertex, which you showed no interest in doing, but
the shares belong to you.”
“That’s not how it was explained to me.”
“I really should have insisted that you take business classes in college,” he said. “Anyway, since you filed for divorce and your sister gave me a come-to-Jesus moment, I have slowly started buying out or trading shares of my other holdings and now have thirty-three percent of the total sprinkled about under various names. You’re not the only Ashland who can make up names.”
“To serve what purpose?”
Her father sighed. “I live in a financial world. I’m not known for going into a bar and starting a fight to flex my weight. I am, however, gifted in the art of corporate takeovers. You and your sister now own fifty-three percent of Vertex and have the ability to kick out the CEO and replace him with someone mentally competent.”
Erin’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
“I suck at being a dad,” he told her. “But I’m pretty good at being an asshole.”
Matt squeezed her hand.
“I’m looking at the paperwork from the wedding gift, Maci. This is ironclad. I’m sure Desmond knows this and that’s why he’s losing it.”
Matt spoke for the first time. “Once Desmond finds out he’s been removed from the corner office, it will make him even more dangerous.”
“Who’s this?” her father asked.
“My name is Matthew Hudson, Mr. Ashland. And I have no qualms about flexing my weight with fists if it means protecting your daughter.”
Erin smiled at the sentiment and lifted his hand to the side of her face.
“You have a valid point, Matt. Which is why Mr. Ashland and Helen haven’t announced anything yet,” Renee told them.
“I’ve spoken with the authorities both in Chicago and California. We think it’s wise to lure Desmond back to the office where we can keep track of him while this becomes public knowledge. Which might be the best way to keep you safe.”
Erin’s brow furrowed. “How did you know I was in California?”
“You were spotted in LAX back in May. I might have hired a few dozen people to find you.”
“Dad!”
“I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you wanted, but I had to know that Desmond hadn’t found you first.”
“He did find me.”
“Yes, I know. It’s against my nature to ask permission but in this, I am. I’d like to come to you and escort you back to Chicago—”
“My life is here now.” Erin looked at Matt as she spoke. “There are people here who love me.”
“It’s not forever. It’s to lure Desmond away from those you care about.”
“I need to think about this.”
Matt nodded his approval.
“I’m on standby.”
A gust of wind rattled the bedroom window.
Erin sat in an awkward space of not knowing how to say goodbye.
“I’m not in a position for asking favors,” her father said. “But I’m going to anyway.”
“Okay . . .”
“Call your sister.”
Erin placed a hand to her chest. Could she? “Renee?”
“Cat’s out of the bag. No reason not to now.”
Just the thought of her sister’s voice had tears in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“I’ll check back with you at the end of the day,” Renee said. “This is all good news. But watch your step. If Desmond gets wind of any of this . . .”
“I know. Trust me. I know what the man can do when he’s angry.”
Matt picked up the phone. “Thank you, Renee. Mr. Ashland. We’ll be in touch.”
After the call ended they both stared at the phone.
“I can call Helen!” Erin leaned forward, kissed Matt, and grabbed the phone.
She dialed the phone and put it to her ear.
“Hello?” The second her sister’s voice came over the line, Erin started to cry and Matt walked out of the room.
“Helen, it’s me.”
“Maci? Maci!” Helen all but screamed her name. “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re—”
“I’m fine.”
“Did he get to—”
“No, Helen. Well . . . not . . .” She didn’t want to get into all that. Not yet. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”
Helen started to sob. “I never thought I’d hear from you again.”
“That makes two of us.”
“What changed?” Helen sucked in a breath. “Oh, no. No, no, no . . . he found you. Christ, he found you, didn’t he?”
Much as she wanted to deny it, for ten minutes, Erin explained what had happened.
“I’m protected. I have such a strong support system now.”
“Where are you? I want to come see you.”
“I need you to hold off on that. We know Desmond is close by. You coming would give him a new target. Once the police get ahold of him, it will be safe for you to come.”
“I want to see you, safe or not.” Her sister always was more direct than she was.
Instead of encouraging that, she said, “I spoke with Dad.”
“Did he tell you about the stocks?” The change of subject worked.
“He told me everything. It’s like I wasn’t talking to the same man.”
“After you disappeared, I went off on him. Apparently something I said stuck. At first I think he passed me off as being dramatic. Then Desmond got in touch with him and started in on your mental illness. That’s when he realized how serious the issue was. He assured me he was working with private investigators to find you, and then he told me about the stocks.”
“How do you feel about all that?”
“Sis, I’m willing to do some jail time to put a dent in that man. Hitting him in the pocketbook is the least I want to do. But it’s legal and it will hurt, and my babies need me.”
Erin curled into herself on the bed and talked about her niece and nephew for the next hour. By the time she hung up, she was sitting on the floor by an outlet with her cell phone plugged in and talking about Matt and Parker and Colin and everyone. Their conversation jumped back and forth from Desmond, to Erin’s new life, to Helen and her family. In the end Erin promised to check in daily, even with a text, to let her know she was all right.
When she hung up, she realized it was long past time to hit back. And if returning to Chicago was a step in that direction . . . that’s what she needed to do.
But her home wasn’t there any longer. So her return would have a purpose and a round-trip ticket.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Desmond may have been on vacation, but he always checked in. As any good CEO would. He looked in the mirror as he called in to the office. The man staring back looked nothing like him. The normally trimmed beard dangled after only a few days without a trim. He wore a godawful baseball cap, short-sleeved T-shirt, and pants that belonged on someone in the armed forces instead of a boardroom.
He’d found a hiking trail that backed up to the property Maci lived on, and with a pair of binoculars, watched from a charred hillside.
She was never alone.
He nearly caved and hired help to put this problem to rest. Easy to do when you found the seedy side of the block. Only he didn’t trust that the job would get done without implicating him. Then, as evidence that he was right in his desires, the weather forecast devastating winds.
What went better with winds in California than a tossed cigarette on the freeway? Means justifying the end and all that.
For today, he looked past the mess that reflected back at him and promised himself a trip to his tailor when he returned home.
“Good morning, Keller.” See . . . he was a great boss. Even greeted his secretary with pleasant salutations.
“Mr. Brandt. Yes, good morning.”
“How are things stacking up in my absence?”
Desmond listened for ten minutes while Keller rattled on about corporate accounts and a strike in the shipping that came in from China. He had people in every department to deal
with all the issues, which he pointed out once Keller stopped rambling.
“Sounds like I’ve got everything under control,” he told Keller.
“Yes, of course you do, Mr. Brandt. I was told to inform you, when you called in, that there is a shareholder meeting scheduled for Friday.”
Desmond rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Right. Well, my business in Greece isn’t over yet. Tell them to reschedule.”
Keller paused. “Uhm, about that. Yes, they told me to inform you that the meeting will go on with or without you, sir.”
Desmond dropped his hand and stared at his reflection. “Who are they?”
“Sir?”
“They . . . who are the they who told you to inform me of anything?”
“Mr. Forrest’s assistant said it came from him.”
Forrest . . . his chief financial officer. “Put me through to him.”
“Yes, sir.”
His call was picked up immediately.
“So you’re not dead.” Forrest didn’t sound happy.
“What the hell is going on there? I leave for a simple vacation and suddenly people are telling me what to do?”
“You’ve been gone for weeks. We’re not Europe. We don’t close down for the season.”
Desmond wasn’t about to be chastised by a man beneath him. “Reschedule the shareholder meeting.”
“I can’t do that. I’m not a shareholder . . . just the CFO.”
“Tell Al to do it.” His VP of operations did most of the legwork and held a small percentage of the company.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen. Al’s been out all week. Some kind of stomach thing.”
“Damn it, Forrest—”
“Before you start cussing at me, I think you might want to know that there aren’t as many names on the list of shareholders as there were six months ago.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Less. You know. People buy and sell every day.”
Desmond’s palms started to itch. “What are you suggesting?”
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