by Jayne Blue
I waved him off. “No, but knock your damn self out.” I figured at Reed’s age, he ought to be able to make his own “damn” decisions about what he put into his body.
“Ahhh.” Reed took his first puff as he shook out the match and tossed it on the glass coffee table in front of us. “They’re either on me about my weight – and the cigarettes help – or they’re on me about these.” He waved a circle of smoke away from his face.
“I won’t tell a soul,” I smiled.
“Anyway,” Reed started. “Like I said. I wish I had more good news ... or any news for you, Jack. I had a chance to look over the trust document your dad actually signed. And I looked over all of Miranda’s estate filings. There just isn’t really anything we can do at this point to wrestle those software rights out of Seth’s hands. I don’t know why he did it, but your dad gave her absolute authority to do whatever the hell she wanted to with them.”
I nodded. “I figured as much. I’m just curious, though; do you know when he did it? When did he make those changes?”
Reed sat back. “At the end of 2003. Well before his mind really started to go bad.”
My father had suffered from early onset Alzheimer’s. He started showing symptoms in his mid-fifties. The last seven or eight years of his life, he didn’t always know who I was. He’d only been sixty-one when he died. But years before that, he’d given everything he owned to Miranda and shut me out. I never understood why. Whenever I tried to see him after that, we fought about it. Finally, Miranda tried to block me from seeing him altogether and more or less succeeded. It was something I tried not to think about. Staying clear of Chicago and Lake Bliss helped. But now, all those feelings of hurt and loss bubbled just below the surface.
“I figured as much,” I said. I kept my face and my tone flat. Losing my temper over it again would serve nothing and Reed was squarely on my side. “So, basically, unless Seth decides to grow a moral compass and signs those rights over to me, we’re pretty much done.”
Reed nodded as he leaned forward and ground out his cigarette. “I can’t prove he was unduly influenced without a witness. There’s just you and you’re the one who stands to financially benefit from it. We don’t have anybody who will talk that’s neutral.”
I nodded. I knew all of these things. It was only a fraction of the reason I came to see Reed. “Well, I appreciate you even taking the time to think about it, Reed. It means a lot to me that you know the truth. Dad did not mean to cut me out of his life like that.”
“Jack.” Reed leaned forward and put his hand on my knee. “He absolutely didn’t. I know it in my bones and you should too. Miranda was a selfish, insecure, manipulative, power-hungry bitch. Margie would kick the shit out of me for speaking ill of the dead, but that’s the honest-to-God truth even if you and I are the only ones left to know it.”
I had to laugh. Reed was always good for a colorful way of driving a point home. “Again, thanks. And there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about in any event.”
Reed leaned back and fingered his pack of cigarettes but then threw them to the coffee table with a grunt. I smiled.
I reached into my own breast pocket and pulled out my wallet. I took two fifty-dollar bills and set them on the coffee table next the cigarettes. “What’s your hourly rate these days? That enough to buy me twenty minutes?”
Reed narrowed his eyes at me but nodded. “You’re like family. Let’s call it a half hour.”
“Good,” I said. “Then I’ll get right to it. What can you find out about an old RICO case they tried to pin on George Pagano? Early 2000s. Heroin dealing. He was one of Miranda’s clients at the time.”
Reed whistled low. “I’m thinking I should have held out for a couple more of those fifties you probably have in your wallet. I gotta ask why you’re interested.”
“It’s for a friend,” I said.
“Jack,” he said. “I do trusts and estates and business law. And I’m mostly retired. I’m not a criminal lawyer.”
“I don’t need a criminal lawyer. I need somebody who knows how to make a few phone calls without tipping the wrong people off.”
Reed slapped his knee. “That’s gonna be a pretty wide circle without hitting anything. Tell me what you know.”
“Not much,” I said. “I don’t even know what the exact charges were or if Pagano was even officially charged. There was an investigation though. You gotta know somebody or play golf with somebody in the federal prosecutor’s office down here that’s just as old as you are and just as disinclined to give a shit what people think about him.”
This got a laugh out of Reed which devolved into a coughing fit. I gave him a solid smack on the back. He held up his finger and nodded as he got a hold of himself.
“What else?” he said.
“Your starting point might be this guy.” I reached back into my suit pocket and pulled out a newspaper article I’d printed off about Declan McLain’s conviction. I handed it to Reed. He squinted and shoved his reading glasses on to his face.
“Friend of yours?” he asked, peering over the top of his frames.
“Friend of a friend,” I said. “I don’t know how he and Pagano are connected. Maybe they aren’t directly. But I’d like to know what the case was against McClain. And if anybody knows how the Pagano investigation went poof.”
Reed whistled again.
“And Reed,” I said. “The tricky part is this can’t be a direct ask.”
He nodded. “I get it. There might be nothing there ... but you don’t want anyone thinking you think there’s anything there.”
“That’s about it,” I said.
Reed put the paper on the table and slid off his reading glasses. “Ok. So now I have to ask you a few questions.”
I ran a hand across my jaw. “And I thought I was just about to make a clean getaway.”
Reed waved me off. “Does this have anything to do with what you and my son were talking about at Seth’s rehearsal dinner the other night? You two disappeared long enough to be noticeable and you both looked pretty sour when you came back.”
I sighed. That was the night R.J. shared the results of his private investigation into Tora with me. The night I found out she wasn’t really Tora Blake.
“I’d really rather not get into that,” I said.
“Tough shit,” Reed said. “This is my son we’re talking about. I love you almost as much as I love him but when it comes to it, I’m going to protect him. You understand that, right? And you’re asking for information about one of the most dangerous, untouchable sons of bitches around. George Pagano’s the kind of guy they make those Goodfellas movies about, Jack. And this other one ... this McLain ... he’s some kind of biker outlaw, right?”
I shrugged. “Something like that.”
Reed nodded and flipped the newspaper article back on the table. “What kind of friends are you keeping these days, Jack?”
“Look,” I said, losing the battle with my temper. “You said it yourself, you’re like family. That’s something I have in not even short supply – non-existent supply. I just want to know if there’s any kind of stink on Pagano relating to what I just said. That’s all. If you can’t find anything out without shaking the wrong tree, then I’ll drop it. I get it.”
Reed nodded. “Good. Just so we’re clear. I’m looking out for you just as much as I’m looking out for R.J. You know that, right?”
I ran my hand across my jaw and nodded. “I do. And I appreciate it. And I wouldn’t ask if it didn’t matter.”
Reed smiled then and reached across to pat me on the knee. “It’s good seeing you, Jackie,” he said. “It’s real good. We’ve missed you.”
I put my hand over Reed’s and squeezed his back. The skin over his knuckles was thin and I felt every vein. My heart ached a little. Reed Burnett really was one of the last connections I had to my parents. He wasn’t ancient, but he wasn’t hearty and I wanted him around a good long time yet.
“I’ve
missed you too,” I said. “And I’m thinking about sticking around Chicago, at least for a little while.”
I held out my hand to help Reed up and got rewarded with a middle finger. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Good, so you’re steering clear of The Maples this year, then, huh?” Reed said.
I narrowed my eyes. It was such a specific question for him to ask. When he saw the look on my face, Reed set out a deep sigh.
“Shit,” he said. “Coulda just kept my mouth shut.”
“About?”
“Maybe it was after you left but Seth told everyone he’s taking that girl there next week for the Legacy Foundation retreat. Thinks he’s gonna lock down the party donors at it. You’re still on the Legacy Board, aren’t you?
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. So he either assumed I’d be there to grease the wheels for him, or he’s dumb enough to think he doesn’t need me to. But he’s taking Tora there?”
Reed gave me a crooked smile. “Stay away from her, Jack. That girl’s bad news.”
The air went out of my lungs. I didn’t think R.J. ratted me out so it meant my poker face where Tora was concerned worked for shit around Reed. He put a hand up when I opened my mouth to say something.
“Save it, Jackie,” he said. “Don’t start lying to me now. Never mind she’s married to your stepbrother. There’s something way off about her and you don’t need that. Skip that retreat this year. You let your Aunt Margie and me find someone for you.”
I put my hand lightly on Reed’s shoulder. “All right, all right. I won’t bother lying. As long as you don’t bother trying to play matchmaker. I’m thirty-seven years old. I like my life just fine the way it is. Plus, work on R.J. He needs a hell of a lot more help than I do.”
Reed laughed. “He’s a lost cause. You, I still have hope for.”
Before he could protest, I gave Reed a quick hug before I turned to leave. Never mind the lecture, it was nice having someone looking out for me. As I hit the elevator button, he bellowed something about Margie’s bowling partner’s daughter’s cousin ... or something to that effect.
I waited until I stepped out on the street before punching my assistant Vince’s number into my phone. He answered on the second ring.
“Tell me you’re getting off a plane and heading straight for me,” he said.
“I’m on the next one out of here, promise,” I said. “But I need you to do something for me. Can you find that invitation to The Maples retreat?”
“Yeah,” Vince said, drawing out the vowels. “Jack, that’s next week.”
“Right.” I said. “Book me in the Crystal Suite again, will you?”
I didn’t wait for Vince’s string of epithets before clicking off the phone.
Chapter Five
Tora
From the air, I could easily see how The Maples got its name. The resort sat on a large peninsula on Virginia’s Smith Mountain Lake; the shoreline dipped and curved, forming a Maple-leaf shape. I got a clear view of the pristine waters at the base of the looming Blue Ridge Mountains as our pilot circled twice before landing. I saw winding trails cutting through a thick green forest at the north end of the peninsula. If I were here with anyone else or for any other purpose, it would be perfect. I hoped the tranquil surroundings would bring me at least some peace as I spent the week with the men who took my father away.
We landed on the resort’s private airstrip and Seth had a car waiting to take us up to the lodge. Lodge was really a poor description for what it was. The Maples Lodge housed over fifty luxury suites, a banquet hall, tennis courts, two indoor pools and private valets for each guest – at least, according to the brochure Seth gave me on the plane.
Tonight I’d sleep under the same roof that had previously covered presidents and kings. The same roof as George Pagano. I scanned the grand lobby as I waited for Seth to check in. Was Pagano here already? Would he take a massage in his room? Bitterness cold as ice formed in my gut at the thought of it. Pagano would sleep fat and pampered tonight just as he’d done every night for the last thirteen years while my father stared up at rusted springs on the underside of a bunk bed.
It hurt so much to think of him there I rarely let myself anymore. When I visited him last month, the light had finally gone out of his beautiful green eyes. He had worry lines deep as trenches through his forehead and framing his mouth. He’d told me not to come.
“Go be happy, Button,” he said. “I’m not gonna tell you to forget about me but don’t come back again, okay? This isn’t a place for you and I don’t want to have memories of you here looking sad at me. Send me pictures of you skydiving or horseback riding or selfies with your boyfriend but don’t ever come here.”
I watched the back of Seth’s head as he leaned down to talk to the attendant at the desk. For a moment, I wished my eyes could bore holes straight through his deceitful skull. I took a breath, then another. Anymore of that line of thought and it would start showing on my face. I plastered my smile there and waited for my husband to come back to me.
He didn’t though. Instead, he started yelling and gesturing wildly with his hands. The attendant turned white as Seth hurled a compound word at him that got the attention of two couples walking by on their way to the tennis courts, by the looks of them.
I should let him hang himself, I thought. I’d like to say Seth was his own worst enemy except that position was already filled by me. But if I didn’t do something to reign him in, we’d end up thrown out of the place. That wouldn’t lead me to George Pagano or whatever truths I might uncover this week. My game plan was to stick close to Seth while he worked Pagano. I had no delusions that George Pagano was dumb enough to let something slip about what Miranda did for him ... but Seth very likely could.
I stepped to his side and put a light hand on Seth’s arm. “Is everything all right, baby?” I gave a demure smile and wink to the thunderstruck attendant. Rich people can be assholes, sure, but Seth was working himself up into a league of his own.
“No,” Seth said, twisting away from my hand. “Or it will be as soon as this little shit gives us the right suite?”
“Mr. Manning,” the attendant said through gritted teeth. “I promise, you’ll find your suite more than ample.”
“We stay in the Diamond Suite,” he said. “The name is Manning. Look again.”
“I’ve looked twice, sir,” he said. “I have Mr. Seth Manning all set in the Mountain Suite.” He slid two key cards across the counter. He lifted two fingers and gestured to someone over Seth’s shoulder. A burly security guard started crossing the lobby toward us.
I grabbed the cards and practically sung my next words. “We take the elevators?” I said, pulling Seth away from the desk.
The attendant nodded. “Yes. Top floor ... that’s the third floor ... then two rights. You’ve got a mountain view, Mrs. Manning.”
“Right ... mountain view for the Mountain Suite!”
The security guard had about five inches and forty pounds on Seth and he mercifully got the hint. He fumed still and jabbed one last finger in the direction of the attendant but followed me more or less quietly to the elevators and up to our room.
The Mountain Suite was bigger than some apartments I’ve lived in. It had one massive, open main room with a floor to ceiling window of the mighty Blue Ridge Mountains on the far side. We had oak flooring and furniture done in white. There was a smaller bathroom off the kitchen and another door in the corner led to the master bedroom. We had the same view in there and a balcony complete with an outdoor Jacuzzi and wet bar. What the hell was Seth in a snit about? I couldn’t keep quiet and for once, didn’t feel like managing him. I turned to him.
“What were you so upset about down there?” I said as I plopped down on the end of the king-sized round bed in the center of the room. “Seth, this is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen in my life.” It might have been the first true thing I’d ever said to him.
Seth walked to the window and pouted at the moun
tains. “There’s an unspoken tier system here, Tora. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Explain it to me so I do, baby.” I tried very hard to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I either succeeded or Seth was too far gone to sense it.
“The power players stay in the jewel wing on the ground floor, lake side. Diamond, crystal, ruby, whatever. My mother always stayed in the Diamond Suite. It’s a slap in the face that they’ve bounced me back to Junior Varsity, Tora.”
It killed me not to state the obvious. You’re not your mother, sweetie pie. Lucky for me! I took a steadying breath and went to him. I was going to need a fucking drink and soon. I slid my hands over his shoulders and rested my head against the center of his back. “You’re here, Seth. And it’s not like college where you’re inviting people to party back in your dorm room. The action’s going to happen at the seminars, right? At lunches and dinners, the ballroom and the tennis courts, right? You’re bigger than this room, baby. Now all you have to do is show them.”
And holy shit, it worked. Seth turned to face me; gathering me into his arms he turned me so I leaned against his chest, facing the window. “And you. I’m gonna show them you. You see how they look at you when you’re with me? All of those fat bastards want you and it kills them that you’re mine. None of them get anything as fine as you unless they pay for it.” He squeezed me against him and I felt him stir against buttocks.
Not now, I thought. Just ... not now. Since our wedding night, Seth had mercifully reverted back to his usual drink and medication-induced apathy in bed. It made my life easier, but it also made it more difficult to get him to open up. At the moment, however, he seemed ready to pounce.
I took a steadying breath and turned toward him, letting his lips find mine as he drew me against him. He lifted me, hooking his hands under my knees and wrapping my legs around his waist.
“You wanna christen the bed or the floor first?” he growled against my ear.
I opened my mouth to answer when there was an insistent knock at the door.
“Ignore it,” Seth said. He turned and set me down on the bed, stretching himself over me as he kissed my neck.
