Mr. CEO

by Willow Winters

  I smile, thinking about just how generous Andrea's being. “And you?”

  “I've got my own plans in place. I don't think we'll be seeing each other again. It was nice to spend some time together, my friend.”

  I hum, thinking that I regret not taking the time to get to know her better. She's a remarkable young woman, but she has her own mission to complete. “I hope that someday, maybe after you've found your own completion... I hope we can see each other again.”

  “That'd be nice, but we'll see. I'll keep in touch with you electronically at least. Take care, Katrina.”

  “You too, Andrea.”

  So the die is cast. I just have to wait, and see how it finally falls.

  Chapter 27

  Jackson

  It's been over a month since I've seen the plantation house, and as I walk up the long driveway from the street, I'm surprised at how unfamiliar it feels. I took a taxi and Nathan told me that if I needed, my Audi was at home for me to get away. A nice option, but I'm not sure if I agree with it.

  A few of the staff react with surprise when I walk up, but Nathan is the first to greet me, coming down the wooden steps of the porch. “Your father is out back, near the pool, with a young lady as his company,” Nathan says quietly. “And I got a call. The police arrested Sam Grammercy about a half hour ago.”

  I nod and pull out my phone. I dial Darcy, who picks up quickly. “Yes?”

  “Open the gates,” I tell her in a flat voice, my emotions so roiling that I'm not able to put any sort of inflection in my speech at all. “Open them wide.”

  I hang up before she can reply, and go inside to the foyer. I look around, but the place is pretty much deserted already. “My mother?”

  “Upstairs, drunk and passed out. Andrea is in the library.”

  I nod. “Inform her what I just did, and then tell any staff who don't want to deal with the cops to get the hell outta here. I'm going to go have a chat with Peter.”

  Nathan nods, but doesn't move. “What?”

  He looks like he's about to say something, but instead pats me on the shoulder. “De Oppresso Liber. Free the oppressed. For too long, I betrayed that motto,” he says instead. “Thank you for reminding me what right and wrong are.” I nod and pat him in return.

  “Thank you, Nathan. Now let's go do what we need to do.”

  I leave the foyer and cut through the dining room out to the pool area, where I see Peter sitting in a lounge chair next to a picnic table, his gut hanging out over the waistband of his ridiculous Speedos. It’s definitely swimwear that might look appropriate on me, but not on a man over fifty and carrying the extra weight he is.

  In the pool, a young woman is swimming, most likely his newest girlfriend judging by the thong string bikini and long blonde hair streaming behind her as she kicks under the water. He’s so absorbed by the sight of her ass flexing that he doesn't hear me until I'm nearly on top of him. When he does, he has the balls to just give me a cocky smile. “Ah, so you finally got over your little temper tantrum. Good to have you back, Jackson.”

  “Little temper tantrum,” I repeat softly, musing. I go around and sit in the other chair at the table, surprised I'm not in a total rage, but instead icy calm and focused. I've changed so much since that night in the limo with Katrina. “After all that you've done, including having the woman I love killed in front of me, you have the stupidity to call the past three weeks a temper tantrum?”

  “Well, hasn't it been?” he asks, smirking. “I mean, the bitch hurt our family. Nathan told me what happened, and I'm glad that you've finally come home. Now, how about you wait here, and you, me, and Kendra can have a nice dinner together.”

  “Bringing your girlfriends into the home now even,” I say, shaking my head. “Well, enjoy it for another hour or two. It'll be the last.”

  “What do you mean?” Peter asks, suspicious. “What have you been up to?”

  “Oh, not much. I just took all of Katrina's evidence, and there was a fuck-ton of it, and sent it to the cops, feds as well as the local news, and the blogosphere. I bet if you look right now, you'll find pictures of you with women, with gangsters, or maybe with a former governor of this state. Best of all, I've got the e-mails and files that you sent to coordinate the faking of Sam Grammercy's death. Did I mention he was arrested in Miami thirty minutes ago?”

  Peter goes pale, and about that time Kendra comes up from another lap, and notices me for the first time. “Oh, hi! You must be Jackson!”

  “Leave,” I reply, not taking my eyes off Peter. “We have some family business to discuss. Go home, and don't come back.”

  Kendra stops, looking to Peter, who is staring back at me, and I'm not taking my eyes off him for a second. Kendra huffs, then gets out of the pool. In my periphery, her toned backside is the last thing I see of her as she disappears into the house.

  “I don't think she'll be back.”

  “You inconsiderate little shit,” Peter rasps, his voice quaking in fury. “I gave you a house, raised you, let you do what you wanted, and all I asked for was your loyalty. And you couldn't even do that.”

  “No, what you did was give me money, nothing else. You never loved me, you never raised me, and the only example you gave me was how not to be a man. You wanted me to just spend your money and stay out of your way while you acted like a pig. Well, I found something more important than money, and you took it from me. So now I've got nothing to lose, and for the first time in my life, I'm doing the right thing. So fuck your money, and fuck you. I should kill you, but I won't. Enjoy prison.”

  It's cathartic, saying what has been burning in my heart for years, and I feel strong as I stand up, walking past him. He stands up, and tries to grab my arm, but I turn and kick, my foot planting directly in his stomach and sending him stumbling backward onto the lawn, where he lies, groaning and holding his belly. “You broke my ribs, you little shit!”

  “For twenty-two years, you broke my heart. I guess that makes us even,” I say calmly before I go to the door. Inside, I hear chaos breaking out as the remaining staff passes along Nathan's warning. I can hear the sirens in the distance, and I know we've only got a few minutes, five or six at most.

  I see motion off to my right, near Peter's office, and I go over, finding Andrea inside. “What are you doing?”

  “What should be done,” she says, opening the combination safe that has rested behind a painting on the wall for years. I didn't know she had the combination, but I'm not surprised. Andrea's known so much for so long.

  Inside the safe, I see that there's two guns, a white baggie that is most likely coke, and four stacks of cash, along with a black bag. Andrea looks at me, and gestures in invitation. “What do you want?”

  I reach in and take the guns, tucking them in the waistband of my pants. “I'll keep you safe as you're getting out. You're ready, I hope?”

  She points, and I see the backpack already sitting on the desk. “I've been packed for a while, figuring you'd be moving quick.”

  I nod and step back. “Leave the drugs.”

  Andrea chuckles in agreement and reaches in, taking out the cash and the black bag, opening it. Inside are dozens, maybe hundreds of diamonds and other gems. Andrea pokes around a little, then reaches in and takes out a diamond and a sapphire, which I note is the same color as Katrina's eyes. She puts them in my hand, and folds my hand over them. “I hope you can give them to someone special someday.”

  “Will I ever see you after today, Andrea?” I ask, and she gives me a mysterious smile.

  “If fate smiles on us, I hope so. I had so much fun getting to know you better the past few weeks. I'd like to someday see that you've made it the rest of the way.”

  Andrea puts the stacks of hundred dollar bills in her bag, and then tucks the bag of gems away. “I know some places this can be turned into cash,” she says, giving me a smile. “You ready?”

  The sirens are getting closer, and I nod. “I love you, Andrea.”

  “I
love you too, oniichan.”

  We leave the library, and in the foyer I see Nathan waiting for us. “The police are at the front of the driveway, waiting on the search warrant. I closed the gate to slow them down, but it won't stop them for long. I'd recommend not taking the streets to get out. There's some ATVs in the stable area, that'd be better.”

  “Lead on,” I instruct, and Nathan's moving, his pistol out just in case, taking us out the side entrance, the three of us running over to the two quad runners and jumping on. We fire them up, Andrea hanging onto me as we haul ass out the back and up the fire road that leads deeper into the woods. “Where's Maverick?”

  “A safe place,” Nathan yells back, the wind tearing the words from his mouth almost before I can hear them, pointing to the right as we reach a fork in the trail. We take it, roaring at top speed as the sun rises. We're approaching noon, but here, on the edge of the swamps, the mists are still rising from the ground and the visibility is diminishing.

  Nathan holds up his hand, slowing his ATV as we reach another split in the trail. “Here's where we split up. The cops shouldn't be looking for us, but still... better safe than sorry.”

  “Where are we?” I ask, and Nathan points to our right. “What's that way?”

  “Two miles that direction is the Jean Lafitte Golf Course. I'd suggest walking in order to avoid attention. My path goes the other way.”

  I look at the trail he's going to go, wondering where life is going to take him, and give him an appreciative look. “Thank you, Nathan. For everything.”

  Nathan nods, and offers Andrea his hand, and they shake.

  Andrea nods, and they share an unspoken appreciation. Nathan starts his ATV again, twists the throttle, then stops before he can put the vehicle in motion. Reaching into his suit pocket, he takes out a small envelope, like the kind you'd find a kid's Valentine's card in. “I promised someone that I'd give this to you after you spoke with Peter. I hope it brings you happiness, Jackson.”

  I take the envelope, and see that inside there's a slip of paper. “Where will you go, Nathan?”

  He considers for a moment, then gives me a half-smile that's slightly sad. “To go see Aisha. I've got some more debts to balance before then though. Take care of yourself, Jackson DeLaCoeur.”

  He offers his hand and we shake, and I'm left wondering as the old warrior puts his ATV in gear and rides off toward the bayou. Andrea and I watch him for a minute, then I turn to her, and I see she's already pulled her backpack onto her shoulders. “You ready?”

  “Just a minute,” I say, tearing open the envelope and looking inside. There's a single piece of paper, an address in Federal City written on it. “Federal City. What's there?”

  “Only way to find out is to go,” Andrea says, cinching the straps on her backpack tight. I put the paper back in the envelope and tuck the whole thing in my pocket. “Come on. Walk with me one more time?”

  I take her hand, and we start down the trail. I've got a hundred dollars in my wallet, and as we walk, I toss one of the handguns into a nearby pond, where it barely makes a plop as it sinks below the murky, greenish water. So as the golf course comes into view, I've got a hundred dollars, one handgun, and the clothes on my back. The rest of it is useless junk, now probably frozen or soon to be frozen credit cards, a driver's license, and other assorted crap, but I've never felt freer, or richer, in my entire life.

  Katrina was right. Without the money, or I guess the strings that come with the DeLaCoeur money, I've got a lot more freedom. It's more valuable than anything else.

  Chapter 28

  Kat

  The local news is buzzing as the sun sets, and I sit on the floor of my hideout, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Darcy surprised me about forty-five minutes ago, showing up with a chocolate cake. “Happy Birthday,” she says, handing it over. “It's only from the supermarket, but I thought you'd like it anyway.”

  “Thanks, but it isn't my birthday,” I say, confused. “You know that isn't until October.”

  “No, today's your real birthday. You're born again today,” Darcy says. “I left Henry with Jeff. He understands, and he's just grateful that he's not on-duty today. Tomorrow, though, he's not looking forward to work for the short-term. It's gonna hit the fan.”

  “I bet. Thanks for coming by. Have you heard from Andrea or Jackson?”

  “Nope. You heard from Nathan, I take it?”

  I nod, taking the cake and leading her into the loft. It's small, but for the past three weeks, it's been a good enough place to crash. I sit down on the couch, and Darcy pauses before sitting down, looking at the small box on the table. She does a double take and points once she recognizes the name that's upside down on the box. “Is that?”

  “Yep. I'm late, and wanted to be sure.”

  Darcy picks it up, and sees that it's empty. “You took the test.”

  I nod. “I did.”

  She gives me a sideways glance, and half a smile. “I've known you for six years, Katrina. You wouldn't be playing coy with me unless the results were something I'd like. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” I say, still not sure how I feel about it. This was certainly not in my plans, but I have to admit I feel a little thrill about it. “Maybe now I'll get some decent-sized boobs.”

  “Either that or you're going to get really good at making formula,” Darcy chuckles. “So you're going to keep it, no matter what?”

  I nod, and look at the cake. Hey, I'm hungry, and stress makes chocolate look damn good. “I am. Even if he never comes, I want to keep it.”

  “You sound like he may not come.”

  I sit back, and turn on the television, where the local news should be starting soon. “Nathan gave him the address, but there's no promise he'll come.”

  Darcy gets up and goes to the kitchen area, getting two forks. We've been friends for a very long time, we don't need to worry about plates between us. I start on the right, she starts on the left, and we'll work our way toward the middle. “So are you going to take a chance with him?”

  I think about what Nathan told me, about how Jackson had told off Peter, kicking him down when he tried to grab him, and more importantly, how Jackson passed up the money and jewels, taking with him only the handguns to protect his sister while they made their getaway. That's not the Jackson from the limo... hell it's not even the same Jackson who flew with me to Miami and thought that a seventy-five dollar a night hotel was slumming it.

  Before I can answer, Darcy sets her fork down, and takes my hand. “You know I love you, right?”

  “I know, Darce. You've been my big sister for a long time now,” I reply, letting her speak. “I love you, too.”

  She swallows and smiles. “Well, for six years we've known each other, and there's been only one hope that I've had that I haven't been able to see. I've watched as you grew into an intelligent, beautiful young woman and into a hacker even better than me. And we're going to sit here and watch as you get your vengeance, your mission complete. So that leaves only one hope that I've kept inside myself for so long. I want you to find happiness, to find a future. Now, I've only talked with Jackson a little bit face to face. But I saw the way he cares for you, that boy is head over heels for you. Give him a chance. Andrea told me that he's trying to become something, even when it was just the memory of you. Imagine what he can be, what you both can be, together.”

  I think, then nod. “Well, first, let's watch the news.”

  The six o'clock news comes on, and Peter DeLaCoeur's arrest is top news. We watch silently as the video feed shows him being loaded into an ambulance, his wrist cuffed to the gurney, holding his ribs and groaning. “Damn, Jackson must have really gotten a shot in,” Darcy says. “Wonder how the cops will spin that one.”

  The story continues as the lead anchor continues the story. Darcy and I had gone through at my lead and released only about half of my files, the ones that most damaged Peter while sparing Margaret DeLaCoeur and Nathan Black what I could
. I spared Margaret because I feel at least a little bit of pity for the woman, who's lived in her own version of hell for the past twenty-five years. She's sick more than anything else, and part of me hopes that she'll get treatment for her sickness, although as I watch the police lead a broken, sobbing Margaret out of the DeLaCoeur plantation mansion, I doubt it.

  I spared Nathan what little I could because, despite the evil acts he's done, he's trying to repent, to do the right thing. Maybe I’ve grown a little weak, or maybe I just think the man deserves a second chance, but none of the files that Darcy released have his voice or likeness, and most of the text files don't refer to him by full name. If Nathan moves quickly and uses the contacts I'm sure he has, he'll have a chance to redeem himself.

  I couldn't do much for Andrea, but she's told me she wanted her mother's story told. She's got her own mission anyway, and the case of Aiko Mori's death is one of the more dramatic ones, even if it is smaller in terms of scandal compared to the other information the cops and FBI received. A tearjerker for sure, but since it is nearly twenty years old and doesn't have any political sizzle, it doesn't make the broadcast.

  “The story of the downfall of what could be the most powerful man in New Orleans, the Don of the Delta, as some people are already calling him, is going to be even more intriguing as the days progress. With multiple sources receiving what is potentially thousands of pages of information along with dozens of hours of audio and video, it will take a long time for the full impact of today's events to be revealed.”

  I sit back and feel a great weight lift off my shoulders. I close my eyes and bow my head, resting my forehead in my hands as I start to cry, tears of relief and farewell to the pain that I've carried for a whole decade. I feel a hole inside me finally close, and Darcy rests her hands on my shoulders, letting me do what I need to do.

  When the tears are done, I wipe at my eyes and look over at Darcy. “Thanks. I guess there's only one thing left for me to see now.”