Red Carpet Christmas

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “How am I going to do this with Drew there?” she said aloud.

  Walls closed in on her mind as she pulled up in front of the mansion that had once been her home. Simone felt trapped by whatever truth Michael would tell her.

  If he would tell her.

  She had a moment’s regret that she’d left Gideon behind. He’d been her rock over the past few days, and she knew he could get her through this. But his being here now could get him killed; given that possibility, she’d made the only decision she could. Michael would never hurt her, but Gideon was another story. He’d said her brother had come after him years ago—the reason he’d left his mother and sister for their own protection and had gone off on his own.

  She’d assumed Michael had been seeking vengeance for their father, but in truth, he’d probably been trying to eliminate the only witness.

  Swallowing the bile that rose to her throat, Simone left the car and ran up the front steps. Anger made her hammer at the bell continuously until the door opened.

  To her surprise, Michael, rather than Ulf, stood on the other side.

  “Come in. What’s got you so hot?”

  She pushed past him and through the foyer, looking for her son in either of the downstairs parlors, throw-backs to another age with marble fireplaces, parquet floors, oak-paneled walls and Tiffany windows. Both rooms were empty.

  Feeling hot and cold at the same time, she faced her brother. “Is Drew upstairs in bed?”

  “Drew? What makes you think he’s here?”

  “He’s not?”

  “I haven’t seen him. I swear. You two have a big fight or something?”

  “Or something,” Simone agreed, wondering what in the world had happened to her son. perhaps he’d come to his senses and returned home. “Thanks to you.”

  She didn’t miss the whisper of knowledge that flitted through Michael’s expression before he covered it.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sis.”

  “The past, bro! It’s all about the past!”

  Michael crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the jamb of the north parlor’s pocket door. He was trying to look casual, Simone thought. Innocent. She could read him like a book.

  “Want to be more specific?” he asked.

  “Who did you order to run Gideon off the road earlier, Michael? Was it Ulf? Or someone else on your so-called security team?”

  “If you think Ulf did something he shouldn’t have, I’ll speak to him about it.”

  “This is me you’re talking to, Michael. I heard the tape you’ve been searching for. I know what you are now!”

  Michael lunged from the doorway, shouting, “I’m your brother, head of this family!”

  Simone stood her ground and glared at him in return. “If you think that guarantees you respect, you’re wrong! You have to earn respect, not steal it by taking someone’s life and making it look like your own father is the murderer.”

  Silence but for the grandfather clock in the foyer.

  Tick…tick…tick…

  Simone watched her brother’s face turn to stone. He didn’t even try to deny it. So it was true—he’d been the DeNali who had killed Frank Ruscetti. He’d dressed in Papa’s clothes and glasses, had driven Papa’s car. What else had Gideon been left to think when he’d seen the shooting, especially when with his dying breath, his father had uttered DeNali?

  Both he and Papa had told the truth under oath…

  The Michael who could orchestrate this was a stranger to her. Simone’s eyes filled with tears as she glared at him. “How, Michael? How could you do this?”

  “The old man deserved it. You know he did.”

  “He loved us.”

  “He loved you. Me, he treated like dirt. Said he would make a man out of me no matter what he had to do. Well, he finally succeeded, didn’t he? He was going to replace me, Simone, like I was nothing! He pushed me too far that time. He should really be proud of what I did.”

  “You’re proud of setting him up?”

  “I thought it was a clever plan. I even arranged it so Joey Ruscetti could see the action. One of my men let me know when he dropped you off, then followed Joey and let me know when he was within home radar.”

  “My God, you’re heartless! You killed Frank Ruscetti—”

  “A known criminal.”

  “—in front of his son!” Simone exclaimed. “And Al Cecchi wasn’t a criminal and neither was Nikki Albright!”

  “Maybe not Nikki, but Al’s another story. He helped me, didn’t he? And what do you call what Al did with the firm’s money? Besides, I didn’t kill them.”

  “I suppose you weren’t after the tape, either,” she said, remembering her tussle with Santa. Had Michael really meant to hurt her, as well? Perhaps kill her?

  “I didn’t even know about the tape until recently, when Al decided to blackmail me. He whined and said he needed the money to replace firm funds that he’d gam bled away before he was investigated. He was stupid enough to hide the original tape in that damn desk his wife gave away. He was supposed to get it and give it to Ulf.”

  “Ulf.”

  “I wasn’t there when Al Cecchi was murdered, Simone. I was with Josie Ralston, I swear.”

  “You’re saying Ulf is the murderer?”

  “You assumed it was me?” Michael sounded offended. “When Al couldn’t come up with the tape, Ulf got carried away.”

  “And Nikki?”

  “Apparently she caught him the act of ripping the desk apart.”

  Footsteps from the back of the house spurred Simone to see who was there. Ulf filled the doorway to the dining room and library.

  “Don’t try to play innocent with your sister, Michael,” the bodyguard said. “You told me to do whatever I needed to do to get the tape.”

  “Not murder.”

  “Why not? You’ve murdered for it.”

  “Enough!” Michael roared.

  “And now it’s time for you to pay.”

  Realizing that Ulf didn’t mean Frank Ruscetti, Simone asked, “What is he saying?”

  But either Michael didn’t hear her or he was ignoring her. His gaze glued to his bodyguard, he said, “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Now!” Ulf insisted. “Your sister knows, so this Gideon must know. And it follows that the police will know soon if not already. Time for me to disappear.”

  “Michael, who did you murder?” Simone asked, her voice shrill enough to make both men turn toward her.

  “Simone, I think you’d better leave!” Michael snapped.

  “Not until I get my money.” Ulf pulled a gun. “No one leaves until then. Half a million dollars will do me for a while.”

  Michael began, “I don’t have it—”

  “Ask him how your husband died.”

  “Ulf!”

  Simone looked from bodyguard to her brother. “Michael, what is he talking about?”

  Her brother was stone-silent. Not so his bodyguard.

  “Apparently your husband got a whiff of the money missing from the firm and went through Cecchi’s office to find out why his partner would cheat him. Cecchi had been making copies of the tape he used to blackmail Michael and left one in the sound system. Your husband listened to it and came here to talk to Michael, demanding the whole truth.”

  Simone’s eyes widened and she gasped, “Michael, no!”

  Her brother looked shamefaced but defended himself. “I had to do it, Simone. He was going to go to the authorities. I offered him money, but he wouldn’t take it. I did the only thing I could do.”

  Simone felt faint. David! Dear Lord, no. “You’re the one who drove David off the road?”

  “He left me no choice.”

  “And you tried to do the same to Gideon tonight!” The room started spinning around her and she latched on to a chair for support.

  “My money!” Ulf demanded. When Michael didn’t respond, he sighed. “I see you need incentive.” He backed to the
hall door and without taking the gun off them, swung it open to reveal a body crumpled on the floor.

  “Drew!” Simone said with a gasp as Ulf dragged him to his feet. She started to move toward her son, but the killer waved her off with his gun.

  Drew’s hands were tied behind his back, a gag covered his mouth and his knees were wobbly. The wild look in his eyes told Simone he’d probably overheard everything. She had to get herself together for his sake.

  “After all I’ve done for you, you betray me by threatening my family?” Michael spat. “Let the boy go! Now!”

  “You don’t give the orders anymore. The boy for the money.”

  “No, please,” Simone begged, moving closer to the gun, which was now trained on her. Surely fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to take her son. She couldn’t let it happen. “Drew’s innocent in all this. He’s just a boy! Let him go and take me, instead, please!”

  “Stay back!” Ulf ordered, taking aim when she didn’t listen and kept coming.

  “Simone, no!” Michael shouted, throwing himself between her and the bullet that exploded from the gun’s barrel.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Michael!”

  Simone’s shrill scream set Gideon’s neck hair on edge. Circling the building, he finally found a way in through the back, where a door stood open. Still out of breath—probably the fastest mile he’d ever run—he slipped into the darkened room and edged toward the voices.

  “Get out, Ulf, before the police get here,” Simone said, her voice breaking with anguish. “Someone will have heard that gun go off.”

  “Yeah, maybe. But who will care?” the bodyguard asked.

  Gideon tiptoed from what proved to be the kitchen into a hallway and stiffened. Ahead, the bodyguard’s back was to him. The bastard had Drew! The boy was struggling, but obviously had been hurt or drugged because he appeared woozy. Ulf held him up by the arm with one hand and with the other waved a gun at Simone, who knelt on the floor next to Michael. Her hands shook as she felt for his pulse. Red bloomed from a bullet hole in the man’s shoulder; he looked next to dead, Gideon thought.

  Simone looked up at Ulf with a hopeful expression. “Michael’s still alive! I have to call 911!”

  “Not until I have my money,” Ulf told her. “Your brother keeps stacks of bills in the safe. I’ve seen them.”

  “I don’t have the combination.”

  “That’s too bad. You’d better figure out a way to open the damn thing before he dies. And, oh, yeah, if I don’t have money in three minutes, the kid gets it, too.”

  As if staring at Simone willed her to look his way, she did. Gideon saw recognition light her eyes before she turned her gaze back to Ulf. Hope laced her expression, and Gideon knew she was going to try something, so he went on the alert.

  “All right, I’ll try some possible combinations of numbers,” she said, scrambling to her feet. “Maybe Michael used one of our birthdates. But you have to give me some time.”

  “Tick tock!” Stepping forward and dragging Drew with him, Ulf waved the gun at her.

  “Wait a minute!” she cried, stopping suddenly. “What did you do to my son?”

  “He’ll be—”

  Before Ulf could finish, Gideon rammed himself between them, making him let go of Drew.

  “Try picking on someone your own size!” Gideon growled as he chopped down into Ulf’s hand so the gun went spinning down the hallway.

  “My pleasure!”

  Ulf lowered his shoulder and rammed Gideon square in the chest. The air knocked out of him, Gideon flew backward and couldn’t catch himself. His back bounced against a doorjamb and he fell to one knee.

  Ulf wasted no time in going after the gun.

  And Simone wasted no time trying to beat him to it.

  Ulf grabbed her arm, whipped her around and smashed his fist into her middle. Simone crumpled. Furious, Gideon launched himself at the man just as Ulf was about to snatch up the gun. They rolled into the south parlor, fists flying.

  Ulf tried taking out Gideon’s nose with the heel of his hand, but Gideon was faster. He caught Ulf’s hand and snapped it back so fast the bodyguard shrieked and rolled away, only to face Simone, who now had his gun in her hand, pointed at his chest.

  For a big man, Ulf was fast. He flew to his feet and out the front door.

  Gideon was right behind him.

  The killer was nearly to the bottom of the stairs. Gideon jumped and hit the man with his legs from behind. They both went down on the sidewalk. Ulf elbowed back hard enough to make Gideon let go and then scrambled out from under him. But Gideon caught his leg and twisted. The other man landed on his back and struck out with his free leg, shoving a foot into Gideon’s head. The world whirled and for a moment, he couldn’t move.

  Free again, Ulf scrambled to his feet and ran. Forc ing himself to focus, Gideon rose and stumbled after him.

  He caught up to Ulf as he tried to jump the wrought iron fence into the park that edged a couple of historic houses. Gideon dragged him down hard so his clothing caught on the spikes. Ulf dangled there, limbs flailing ineffectually, as a blue and white turned the corner, lights flashing. Another car—one Gideon recognized—followed.

  Logan had arrived with backup.

  LESS THAN twenty-four hours later, Simone uncovered the boxes of ornaments that she’d been ignoring for the last week. She set them on the tables near the Christmas tree, stopping to hold one that reminded her of David. They’d picked this one out together as a souvenir of a skiing vacation. Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of his unnecessary death, a death caused by her own brother.

  Michael had survived emergency surgery and she was thankful for that. Police officers now guarded his hospital room. Michael would be standing trial on multiple counts. Simone knew he deserved whatever punishment he got. Who knew if justice would truly be served? The tape had led her and Gideon to figure out his deception in Frank Ruscetti’s murder, but would it be enough to convict him? There was no proof that he’d killed David. No witness. Only hearsay. Hers. Drew’s. And of course Ulf had already turned on his employer to lighten his own sentence.

  Simone hated the fact that she might have to testify against her own brother. Michael had done terrible things, had taken lives, but in the end had risked his own to save hers. He’d always been there for her in his twisted way; even if her testimony put him away, she would be there for him if he could stand the sight of her.

  No matter what he had done, some part of her still loved him.

  Just as she loved her father, who, if the justice system worked the way it should, would soon be released from prison.

  “Hey, Mom, I thought you said he was coming,” Drew said, entering the living room, hands shoved deep into his chino pockets.

  Was that an anxious note in his voice?

  Just as she said, “He’ll be here,” the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it.”

  She watched Drew open the door and then back off. He was anxious but not eager to show it.

  Gideon entered and nodded to his son, then handed him two gaily wrapped presents. “Can you put these someplace safe until we get the tree decorated?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Drew took them and surreptitiously inspected the tags before setting them down on the fireplace mantle.

  Simone smiled.

  She would never have thought this was possible—the three of them being in the same room together, decorating for a holiday, no less. But after hearing Michael’s admissions the night before, Drew reluc tantly agreed that he would be willing to get to know Gideon better. Perhaps he hadn’t fully accepted Gideon as his father—perhaps, out of loyalty to David, he never would—but this was a promising start.

  Her heart filled as they decorated the tree, talking and laughing together, Christmas music in the background, logs in the fireplace popping.

  Simone reached out to straighten a string of lights and Gideon’s hand knocked into hers as he tried to do the same. A thrill shot t
hrough her that spoke of an intimacy that had nothing to do with sex. And when the last ornament was in place and Gideon had declared it a masterpiece, Simone thought she’d never seen such a beautiful tree.

  “Mom made cookies before you got here,” Drew told Gideon. “If you want, I can make some hot chocolate to go with them.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Simone could only describe Gideon’s expression as loopy as he watched his son head for the kitchen.

  “A good start,” she murmured.

  “I never thought…”

  “Me, neither.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment.

  Then…

  “What about you?” Gideon asked. “Can you ever forgive me for putting the wrong man in prison?”

  “Michael is the one to blame, not you. You didn’t lie. Both you and Papa did tell the truth, after all. There’s nothing to forgive. I never should have abandoned you.”

  “Sometimes things work out the way they need to,” Gideon said. “I can tell how much you cared about David. And he helped you raise a great kid. How could I wish that away?”

  Simone blinked fast—she didn’t want tears to spoil the moment. “Thank you.”

  “The thing is, what about when he gets out? Will you still be willing to see me then?”

  “I love my family, but I don’t plan on letting anyone run my life again.”

  “So after everything that’s happened, we stand a chance together?”

  Simone nodded. “But let’s take it slow, let Drew get used to you.”

  Gideon grinned at her and she could tell he was about to kiss her when, from the kitchen, Drew yelled, “Hot chocolate and cookies coming up.”

  They laughed together instead, and as their son entered the room carrying a tray, Simone knew her heart couldn’t feel fuller.

  Epilogue

  “So the dream did have meaning,” Cass mused, nodding as Team Undercover hashed out the details of the case in Gideon’s office.

  “Freaky,” Gideon said. “The way Michael lit that cigarette one-handed so he could keep the gun in the other was there all along, and I just wasn’t able to zoom in on it until it was almost too late.”