by Ward, Alice
She sat her half full mimosa on the table and reached for a plate. The rest of us followed suit save Royce, who was still enraptured by his phone.
“I’d hoped things had gotten better between the two of you,” I whispered to Claire under my breath.
Claire shook her head. She bit her lip and stared down at the buffet.
“I have a number for you. The next time I go inside, follow me. And if you need a place to stay, there’s plenty of room at Deacon’s townhouse,” I added as we slipped into our seats.
“Thank you,” she whispered back.
I looked up and realized Rachel’s eyes were on me. She quickly looked down at her plate and cut into a slice of quiche.
She still doesn’t trust me. Well, that’s fine, I don’t trust her either.
I’d promised Asher to keep an open, understanding mind when it came to Rachel, but something about her made my hair stand on end.
“So what’s on our agenda for the day?” Kennedy asked. “I read an article in Food and Wine magazine about Ludo Stoli’s new seafood place. Do you think we could get a table?”
She covered fresh tomato slices in salt and pepper and popped one into her mouth. Mine was full of smoked salmon and cream cheese, so Asher answered her question.
“Actually, I bought an embarrassingly wide variety of meat at the farmer’s market yesterday,” he explained. “I have everything marinating and thought we’d grill tonight. But we can absolutely go out, if you’d like.”
I met Kennedy’s eye and prayed she’d suddenly acquire the ability to read my mind.
Please, just go along with it. He’s never at ease in public.
“We can have that spa day you mentioned while Asher takes care of the food. Just think, we can come back all pampered and relaxed and have five-star cuisine in our pajamas,” I tempted.
A smile broke across her face and she nodded.
“That settles it, then. Claire, Rachel, we’d love for you to join us,” I offered.
“It’s my treat,” Asher insisted.
“Count me in,” Claire immediately agreed. “Is there any way one of you could take me home tonight? I’m about ready to tell Royce to take the car and get out of here. I’m so sorry for his rudeness, Asher.”
“Don’t worry about it in the slightest,” he insisted. “My driver lives close by. I’ll ask him to be on call this evening. I’m sure he’ll be happy to take you home whenever you’re ready.”
“I think I’ll stay here with Ash,” Rachel piped up. “In case he needs an extra set of hands in the kitchen.”
I hadn’t expected her to accept the invitation, but I still felt a rush of relief when she declined.
Asher wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and pushed his chair away from the table. “I’ll call Gabe now. I’ll see to the spa reservations as well. I’ll drive you there and pick you up, so feel free to keep those mimosas flowing.”
“Thanks, Asher,” Kennedy called after him as he stepped into the house. She turned to me with a smile and lifted her glass. “Lauren, my dear, I do believe you’ve found the one.”
***
Kennedy’s visit flew by much too quickly. We spent all of Saturday eating, relaxing, and being pampered from head to toe. Asher had to go into the office for an overseas conference call on Sunday, so Kennedy and I spent the day browsing through antique stores and sampling food from the various street vendors dotting the sidewalks. We ate take out Thai on Asher’s terrace and both fell asleep in Asher’s bed, where we’d been watching a movie on his wall mounted flat screen. I woke up early Monday morning, surprised to feel Kennedy’s long hair when I reached to Asher’s side of the mattress. I gently shook her shoulder until she stirred.
“Shit, I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?” she asked with a yawn.
I rolled over again and looked at the bedside clock. “It’s six-fifteen. What time do you have to be at the airport?”
“Not until noon. But I can call a car service,” she insisted. “I know you and Asher both have to get to work.”
“I don’t know if Asher ever came home from work. Do you remember what time we fell asleep?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly. But we started the movie at eight and the last thing I remember is the scene where Tom Hanks visits Meg Ryan’s bookstore. I know that’s near the beginning of the movie. We’re getting old.”
“We drank champagne for two days straight,” I corrected her. “We were bound to crash. I’m going to see if Asher’s in the guestroom.”
“If he is, will you drag my luggage out? I need a shower but I don’t want to wake him.”
“No problem.”
She followed me into the kitchen, where Asher was flipping blueberry pancakes.
“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted us with a grin. He wrapped one arm around me and pulled me into his chest.
“How did you sleep?” he breathed into my neck.
“Great. Sorry we took over your bed. How late did you get home last night?”
He let out an amused laugh and filled two cups of coffee. “I got home at nine o’clock and the two of you were snoring away. You looked so comfortable, I didn’t want to wake you.”
We perched on barstools and Asher slid us our coffees. Kennedy topped hers off with cream, while I drank mine black.
“I wish you would have,” Kennedy insisted. “I feel horrible for taking your bed. And I know the mess I left you to move off the guest bed.”
“Not at all,” he assured her. “I actually slept outside.”
“He does it all the time,” I added when I saw Kennedy’s perplexed look.
“What time is your flight, Kennedy? Gabe said he’d be more than happy to take you to the airport.”
Asher piled two plates four deep with pancakes and sat them in front of us. He pulled a platter of bacon and a glass bottle of maple syrup from the warming drawer and arranged them on the island.
“I need to leave at noon,” Kennedy replied. “I was going to call a service, but if Gabe really doesn’t mind…”
Before she could finish her sentence, the front door flew open and Rachel burst into the house with a folded manila envelope in hand. Her eyes were wide and panicked, and darted wildly around the room until they fell on me.
“You,” she growled.
Asher wiped his hands on a dishcloth and quickly moved between us. “Rachel, what the hell is going on?” he demanded.
He planted his hands firmly on her shoulders, using his body to block me from her swinging fists. She lifted the envelope and pressed it into his chest.
“This is going on,” she hissed. “Someone slipped this under my door while I was sleeping. I found it this morning. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it showed up days after you told her about…” Rachel’s voice trailed off when her eyes fell on Kennedy. My best friend sat on the barstool, one leg crossed over the other. She had her cellphone pointed at Rachel and I knew she was recording the outburst. Rachel realized it too.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she snapped.
Kennedy was completely unfazed by her tone. “I’m recording you,” she said, her voice flat. “I’m Lauren’s attorney. You’re trying to assault her. I’m simply documenting it to ensure a slam dunk case when we press charges.”
“You wouldn’t,” Rachel insisted. She sounded much less sure of herself than she had just moments before.
“Try me.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Asher broke in. “Kennedy, please put your phone down. Rachel won’t assault anyone, right?”
Rachel sneered back at him. Her whole body was shaking and I realized she was more rattled than angry.
“Why don’t you look in the envelope before you decide whether or not I’m allowed to hit her.”
“You are never ‘allowed’ to hit her,” he said firmly. “My God, Rachel, pull yourself together. I’m going to let go of you and you’re going to sit down like a civilized person.”
Asher released
her shoulders and she stomped to the sofa. When he followed, Kennedy and I grabbed our coffees and did the same. I was furious that Rachel had tried to attack me, but I was dying to know what was in the envelope. The knot forming in the pit of my stomach sensed the worst was coming.
Asher sat next to Rachel on the sofa as Kennedy and I settled on the love seat.
“I don’t know what’s in this envelope, but I know it doesn’t justify the way you’re acting,” Asher insisted. He pinched the brass closure open and lifted the flap. “I mean my God; I haven’t seen you behave this way since you were sixteen years…”
All of the color drained from Asher’s face as he studied the papers in his hands. He clenched his jaw and reached for Rachel’s hand.
“You found these this morning?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
She nodded and tears welled in her eyes. She looked at Asher, her face full of desperation. “I told you we couldn’t trust her. She told someone, Ash. I know she did. We don’t have a choice. We have to run,” she sobbed.
“Shh… calm down, Rach. Trust me, this scares me as much as it scares you. But Lauren isn’t to blame. You can run if you want. But I’m not going anywhere.”
Kennedy cleared her throat. “Could someone please explain what the hell is going on? I’m typically not one to pry, but you’re talking pretty openly in front of me and quite frankly, I’m wondering if I need to drag Lauren back to Boston with me.”
I wanted to tell her that wouldn’t be necessary, but I couldn’t form the words.
Rachel’s suggesting that they run. Asher said they knew this could happen someday. Someone’s figured out who they really are.
My heart sank and terror squeezed my chest.
Asher turned to Kennedy. “There’s no need to whisk Lauren away. In fact, I’d be greatly in your debt if you agreed to extend your visit. I have a team of corporate attorneys, but no one I trust with my personal affairs. If you’re willing, Kennedy, I could really use your help.”
Kennedy’s shoulders softened for a moment, but she caught herself and straightened them again. She rose to her feet and stared back at Asher.
“I’ll call my office and explain the situation. Lucky for you, the firm has offices in fifteen states and requires associates to get licensed in at least three. California is one of mine. If you really want me to handle this, I can. The trial I was working on wrapped up last week. But it has to be completely above board. You’ll hire me on paper and you’ll pay the regular hourly fee. It’s the only way I can stay here without losing my job.”
“Consider it done,” Asher agreed.
Kennedy nodded and set off for the guestroom. Asher met my eyes for the first time since Rachel’s arrival. I wordlessly reached out my hand and he passed me the papers. I stared down at photocopies of drivers licenses, student ID’s, and a single birth certificate. Each document bore the name Cynthia Goins; Rachel’s face stared up at me from the black and white photographs.
***
That afternoon, the four of us sat around Asher’s dining table with Parker Parish. Kennedy called her California associate after the Boston office cleared her to stay in town. When she promised to drive up from LA, I envisioned someone our age. When she arrived, I was surprised to learn she was in her mid-fifties. Parker saw the shock on my face and explained it away with a smile. She’d worked as a court reporter for twenty years, working her way through law school during the final three.
Kennedy pointed out that her courtroom experience was invaluable. She hadn’t personally worked in any of the Chavez family trials, but several of her colleagues had. Parker even remembered the rumors that swirled through the marble halls when an anonymous tipster provided the cops with the family’s downfall — a stack of floppy discs full of digital evidence. She was shocked to learn that the tipster was Asher.
Kennedy pushed away a stack of paperwork and looked up from the table. “Okay, I have a plan. But first, let’s go over what we know. You were both incredibly lucky that the U.S. Marshalls didn’t follow you after you split from witness protection. The way they handled your case was highly unorthodox. But they took your word for what happened to Miguel and the officer he killed. Someone must have had a soft spot for one of you… or they realized their own ineptitude and didn’t want to draw attention to it by launching a manhunt for you. Either way, you got off easy and neither one of you have any legal ramifications to worry about.”
Parker nodded. “I agree with Kennedy about the Marshalls wanting to save face. Everyone in the courthouse was talking about the Chavez family back then. And I remember when Officer Wilkins was killed in the line of duty. But we heard Wilkins was on an undercover op that went bad. No one ever said anything about it being related to the Chavez family.”
“I’m not sure this is related to the family, either,” Kennedy said, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Asher, I’d assume you’d be the Chavez’s main target. I’m sure they’re still plenty pissed at Rachel. But you’re the one they trusted. And you killed one of them and turned over damning evidence to the police.”
Parker nodded her agreement. “That’s true. If the family found Rachel, they’d have found you too, because they’d have looked. I think it’s much more likely that someone else recognized Rachel from her past, found out she’d changed her name, and saw an opportunity to make a few bucks. We need a list of everywhere you’ve been for the last two weeks: any salons, restaurants, coffee shops, the places you’ve bought gas. We’ll pull employee records and cross check them against lists from your old schools and foster homes. If nothing pops up, we’ll take the timeline back another two weeks.”
Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed. “You can go back as far as you want. I never carry cash and I don’t have any credit cards. I’ll give you full access to my online banking info and you can check into every last little spot I swiped my debit card. But I think you’re overlooking something.”
Parker pinched her lips and Kennedy raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”
Rachel folded her arms protectively over her chest. “The fact that I’m the one who was contacted doesn’t mean this isn’t the Chavez family. We have security at work and Asher’s house is protected by armed guards and a twelve-foot concrete wall. They could very well have found him too. They just can’t get to him. I’m the only one who was vulnerable.”
“Well, that stops today. You’re staying here until we get to the bottom of this,” Asher insisted.
He took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’d like you to stay put too,” he added quietly.
I’d known Asher would insist Rachel move the moment I laid eyes on the envelope’s contents. I didn’t relish the idea of having her as a roommate, but I accepted it.
“It will be a little crowded…” I hedged.
“No it won’t, because I’m moving to a hotel,” Kennedy insisted.
I opened my mouth to argue, but then closed it again.
If Kennedy has a room, I’ll have somewhere to escape to when I need a break from Rachel. Asher would hate the idea of me being alone in the townhouse, but I’d be perfectly safe in a hotel full of people.
“I insist on paying,” Asher told her.
“I won’t argue with that,” she agreed.
He put an arm around me and turned back to Parker.
“Now that that’s settled, let’s get back to Rachel’s point. Do you think it’s possible that the family’s found both of us, but can’t get to me?”
“Anything’s possible,” she replied with a shrug. “But I’d be more inclined to believe the theory if copies of your old identity were in the envelope. And an anonymous, taunting document drop doesn’t really fit the MO of the major drug syndicate. This feels like more of a low level blackmail situation. I’m willing to bet whoever left the envelope will make contact soon with their price for keeping quite.”
“What do we do when that happens?” Rachel asked, her voice strained with nervous tension.
&n
bsp; “I’ll pay it. Right?” Asher looked from Parker to Kennedy, his eyebrows raised. “I’ll pay it, and then we’ll track the money.”
“That’s probably not a good idea, Asher,” Kennedy warned.
Parker nodded her agreement. “With the deep web, overseas accounts, bitcoin… it’s pretty much impossible to trace money these days.”
“Then I’ll pay it and consider it a loss. The blackmailer may not be tied to the Chavez’s. But if Rachel’s identity is exposed, the family will come running. I’ll do whatever it takes, pay whatever the price to keep us safe until we figure out who’s behind this.”
Asher’s voice was resolved and Rachel relaxed at his words. But I couldn’t relax. Something Parker had said kept racing through my brain. I cleared my throat and stared at her across the table.
“You said this type of thing doesn’t fit with the family’s MO. What does, exactly?”
Asher took in a sharp breath and Kennedy’s face went white. She shifted nervously in her chair and looked to Parker. Parker kept her face free from emotion and her tone matter of fact.
“To put it bluntly, Ms. Matthews, major crime families don’t typically play with their food. They wouldn’t have left the envelope, because they wouldn’t want Rachel or Asher to know they’re coming. The mob is very efficient when it comes to exacting revenge. Typically, once a target is located, a single assassin or a small team is dispatched to deal with them. I’m afraid if they do find you, you likely won’t know until it’s too late.”
Terror gripped my heart but Parker’s words spurred Asher into action. He stood up and started pacing the tile floor.
“I’m upping security,” he announced. “I also want to hire a team to keep tabs on the Chavez’s. Parker’s right, we’ll never see them coming… unless we keep eyes on them at all times.”
“That’s a good idea, but you won’t to have to hire anyone,” Kennedy replied. “Every law enforcement agency in the country is keeping tabs on the family. I’m sure there are countless undercovers planted within the organization. As your attorney, I’m recommending that we contact both the local and the Los Angeles police departments. Neither of you have any outstanding warrants, and your new identities are legal. The cops will want to talk to you directly. But if you’re not comfortable with that, I can act as your liaison. I know you don’t want to take the risk, but I think it’s worth it. There are resources that your money can’t buy, and the cops have all of them.”
