Peyton shifted her handbag to her shoulder. She was nervous about confronting her old man about his role in Evandria and there was not much Ellis could do to make her feel better. Considering how their last meeting went, nothing about this was going to be pleasant except the tea.
“We should all have lunch together. I know that Willow’s been upset and trying to get ahold of Grant. She’s worried that he’s in danger now that his hat is in the ring for head of the organization.”
“I kind of got the feeling that Hollister could take care of himself.”
“I did too but that isn’t going to stop Willow from worrying. She believes Grant is on the right side and that makes him a target.”
Ellis wasn’t inclined to trust anyone at this juncture.
“What do you believe?”
“I think Willow has excellent instincts about people. What about you?”
“I think I read people pretty well too.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked to see who was texting him. “It’s my contact at the FBI. It could be important.”
Peyton reached across him to ring the doorbell. “Maybe he found out something that could help us.”
Ellis read the text with growing disbelief. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all.
“What’s your mother’s maiden name?”
Peyton frowned at the question. “Patterson, why?”
“The house in the Caymans is owned by the Patterson Family Trust as is the building Jensen stole the file from yesterday.”
“My mother owns Ellingwood? Then who were those people who lived there?”
There was disbelief in her tone but they didn’t have a chance to discuss this new wrinkle. The door swung open and a different butler than the one from London stood there to usher them inside.
The house was decorated in the same stuffy style, way too formal for a home on the beach, but Ellis couldn’t picture Peyton’s parents walking barefoot in the sand so the furnishings were fitting.
The butler led them straight through the house and into an office with large windows that overlooked the Gulf of Mexico. This was the multimillion dollar view. Emerald green water met a crystal clear blue sky with the horizon dotted here and there with sleek white boats.
Charles McMillen sat at an oversized desk with his back to all that natural beauty. For Ellis, it summed up the man perfectly. He didn’t see what was all around him, focusing instead on objects and money.
“I was surprised to get your call, Peyton Elizabeth.”
Ellis had a feeling that the only person in the world to call her that was her father.
“We have quite a bit to discuss.”
Peyton managed to keep her voice cool and controlled. Ellis was proud of how calm she appeared. This meeting was emotional but so far she’d played it low key. They’d decided that this would be the best way to approach her father. A big display of anger or indignation would likely turn him off and keep him from talking.
Her father’s gaze flickered to Ellis, clearly annoyed. “Do we have company for this?”
“We do,” she said firmly, linking her arm with Ellis’s. “May we sit down or do you want to discuss this elsewhere?”
The old robber baron didn’t even bother to stand, simply clearing his throat and motioning to the couch against the wall.
“Hampton can get you a drink.”
It was nine-thirty in the morning.
“Thank you, but it’s a little early for me, Mr. McMillen.”
The older man’s eyes narrowed. “I meant coffee or tea.”
It was fun to get under her father’s skin. He was way too sure of himself.
“I’ll pass. Peyton?”
Her fingers gripped Ellis’s arm tightly but she shook her head. “None for me, thank you.”
Hampton nodded and exited the office, leaving the three of them alone. There was silence for a long moment before Peyton opened up with a question. A different one than planned in light of the text he’d received before they’d come in.
“I’d like the truth about your role in Evandria, Father. No more lying. I saw you at Archer Caldwell’s trial, and I know that you had Jensen steal that file on Grant Hollister. Are you trying to get control of the organization?”
The only telltale sign of Charles McMillen’s irritation at being questioned was the slight tightening of the man’s jaw. He would have been a great professional poker player. But then he already was in a way as a world class businessman and financier.
“You know nothing. You only think you do.”
Peyton’s lips flattened into a determined line. “I know enough and most of it doesn’t paint you or any of your fellow Evandrians in a positive light. I also believe that my life and the lives of my friends are in danger. People in Evandria have tried to kill me more than once. So I think I’ll ask you straight out. Do you want me dead, Father? Has what we’ve uncovered about Arsenal and the civil war among the members threatened you that badly? What are you willing to do for your brothers?”
Color drained from Charles’s face and he pushed back from the desk as if to gain more space to breathe. “How dare you accuse me of that. You’re my daughter.”
“Barely,” Peyton replied, her voice hushed. “I’m well aware I’ve been a huge disappointment to you over the years—you’ve made that clear enough, but do you want me dead too? Let me ask you a simpler question. Why did you want me to marry Greg? Did you know he was in Arsenal?”
McMillen was trembling now, the color back in his face and turning red. He raised his fist and brought it crashing down onto the desk with a bang. “Of course I knew. I wanted you to be safe. I did it for you.”
“Peyton was in danger?” Ellis asked, his arm going around her shoulders protectively.
The older man folded his hands on the desk and stared at them for a long time, eventually standing and walking to those windows and looking outside at the bright sunshine.
“My actions may have placed my entire family in danger,” he finally said, still turned away.
“Your actions?” Peyton echoed. “What actions were those?”
Her father sighed and shook his head. “What you’re doing is dangerous.”
Peyton sprang to her feet. “Apparently just walking around and breathing in oxygen isn’t safe. I’m in danger whether I find the truth or not so you might as well tell me. What did you do that put us in this position?”
McMillen paced the small area in front of the windows. “I did it for all the right reasons.”
Ellis also stood, placing himself between Peyton and her father. “I’m sure you did, sir. What exactly did you do? Are you a leader in the rogue faction?”
Her father abruptly halted and looked at Ellis as if he were crazy. “Of course not. I’ve fought the shadow organization with all that I am and all that I have. I’ve dedicated the last forty years of my life to taking them down and that’s what has put my family into harm’s way. They might be hurt or killed in retaliation.”
Ellis wanted to believe the older man; he was Peyton’s father after all, but there were still some unanswered questions.
“Did Greg know?” she asked, moving toward her father. “Is that why you wanted me to marry him? So I’d be safe?”
Sweat had broken out on Charles’s forehead. “Greg didn’t know my role in Evandria but I did believe that being married to a member of Arsenal would keep you safer. He was aware of threats that most members never knew existed. If there was danger, he’d make sure you stayed out of it. What I didn’t count on was his weakness. The boy had a few nasty vices and he hurt you. I’m sorry about that. I never meant for that to happen.”
“You pushed two people together who didn’t love each other and you’re surprised when it doesn’t work out and turns ugly,” Ellis marveled. “What did you think was going to happen?”
Her father shrugged. “Buffy and I were no great love match but we’ve managed to stay together all these years. Through good and bad.”
Ellis didn’t quite know how to respond to that but then he’d never considered tying his life to a woman he didn’t love. What McMillen was talking about was empire building, not marriage.
“Speaking of Mother…” Peyton rubbed at her temple. Ellis should have made her take a pain pill before they left. She still had a tendency to get headaches when under stress like this. “How much does she know? She never wanted me to be part of the organization. Is this why?”
Shaking his head, Charles fell back into his chair. “Your mother knows almost nothing about my role in Evandria and it works well for us. She never liked the amount of time I dedicated to the group. She also knew you weren’t much for our way of life, Peyton. You wanted to be free and unencumbered and you let us know often. I was quite content to let her dissuade you but I made sure you were protected. That’s where Greg came in. He was the son of a family friend who I knew I could trust implicitly.”
Trust no one. Charles hadn’t received the memo.
“Your wife’s family owned the building you sent your son to yesterday. Was that your file on Grant Hollister?” Ellis asked.
McMillen’s brows pinched together. “I don’t know what you’re asking. I only sent Jensen to retrieve the file from the rogue faction. I didn’t send him anywhere else.”
Peyton perched on the arm of the sofa. “Mother owns that building.”
The older man looked confused and Ellis decided to start at the beginning. “Why don’t you tell me what job you gave Jensen to do yesterday.”
“I sent Jensen to a building owned by one of the most senior members of the rogue faction. I’d heard they had a file on Grant Hollister and we needed to know what they were planning to use in the election of a new leader. I sent Jensen to steal it.”
“He had a key,” Peyton prompted. “Where did you get it?”
“For want of a better description? A double agent. He knew that the building would be empty and where the file was located. He gave me a copy of the key and I sent Jensen there. This isn’t the first mission he’s done for Evandria.”
Ellis’s mind whirled as he took in everything they’d learned over the last several weeks plus what Charles McMillen revealed today. A picture was beginning to emerge and Ellis didn’t like it at all. This was one time he’d pray to be wrong.
He took a deep breath and plunged in. “What is the name of the senior member of the rogue faction?”
The older man shook his head. “I don’t know. The most senior members of Evandria are mostly a secret. They can trace their family roots back to the very beginning of the group.”
Peyton’s eyes squeezed closed and a noisy breath escaped her lips. “As I said, Mother owns that building. At least her family trust does.”
“That’s impossible.”
Christ, this family was so fucked up and they had no idea. They had so many secrets from each other it might take a month of confessions to uncover them all, maybe much longer. It was a miracle Peyton had turned out as normal as she had.
Rubbing the back of his now aching neck, Ellis struggled to put into words what his brain was screaming in his ear.
What was the old saying? There are none so blind as those who will not see.
“It’s not impossible. It’s the truth. Just how much do you know about your wife, Mr. McMillen? Or your wife’s family?”
“I know everything about Buffy,” McMillen said dismissively. “We practically grew up together. Our parents were best friends. What are you trying to insinuate?”
“Do you remember when we visited those friends of yours in the Caymans?” Peyton asked, her voice pleading. “Their house was called Ellingwood. Who were they? Did you know them through business?”
Charles looked puzzled. “The Caymans? Was that the cruise? Yes, I remember now.” His expression cleared. “Those were relatives of your mother—distant cousins, I think. They’ve come to visit us here too.”
Ellis had little patience with someone who had their eyes deliberately closed. Peyton’s safety hinged on the truth and he was sick and tired of everyone giving him the runaround.
“Mr. McMillen, I think your wife may be involved in the rogue faction trying to take over Evandria.”
It felt strange to say it out loud. It was his cop’s gut talking and it rarely let him down. All the pieces were coming together now. Realizing Buffy McMillen was probably in the house and knew of their presence, Ellis rested his hand on his weapon.
Charles laughed out loud. “You must be joking–”
The man didn’t get any further as the sound of a shot rang out, reverberating around the room. The piercing blast assaulted their eardrums. Instinctively, Ellis shoved a screaming Peyton into the sofa and shielded her body with his own as Charles McMillen fell into a heap, a bright red bloodstain blooming on his chest. Adrenaline spiking, Ellis whirled around and pointed his firearm at Buffy McMillen, dressed in a demure cream-colored dress, holding a pistol pointed directly at him and wearing the coldest smile he’d ever seen in his life.
She’d just shot her husband and seemed quite pleased with herself.
His heart battering against his ribs, Ellis had only one thing on his mind. Keep the woman he loved alive. He’d found the rogue faction that wanted Peyton dead.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Shaking with horror at what she’d witnessed, Peyton tried to run to her father’s side but Ellis had an iron-grip on her waist, keeping her behind him. The image of the always formidable Charles McMillen crumpling to the floor would haunt her for years to come, of that she was sure. His expression had been so shocked as if he’d never imagined his own wife shooting him. Surely Peyton hadn’t either. Her quiet, mousey mother was now wielding a handgun pointed at the chest of Ellis and clearly she wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger. If Peyton wasn’t terrified of Ellis being hurt or killed, she might laugh at the sheer incredulity of the situation.
“You two and your friends have become quite the thorn in my side,” Buffy sighed, moving to her left to get a better look at her husband. She was so nonchalant in her demeanor that Peyton had to wonder how her father hadn’t seen through her facade…or herself, for that matter. Buffy was her mother, after all. “Damn, that’s an antique rug Charles is bleeding on. It will never come clean.”
Peyton was too shocked to speak, her mouth dry and her throat tight. Ellis found his voice first as his arm curled behind him and around her waist, locking her in place. At some point, he’d pulled them both to their feet but she couldn’t have said when.
“Your concern for your husband’s welfare is touching. Isn’t shooting him a sure way to draw attention to yourself? I would think that would be the last thing you would want to do, Mrs. McMillen. You’ve kept a low profile all of these years on purpose and I’m guessing it has served you well.”
Images of Peyton’s childhood flashed before her eyes but this time with an entirely new meaning. Every moment in her mother’s presence now was called into question. Buffy McMillen had fooled her daughter – and everyone else – completely. Peyton had never had a clue.
“It has.” Buffy inclined her head, a serene smile on her carefully made up face. As usual, she didn’t have a hair out of place. Even her Chanel suit was perfectly pressed and paired with matching pumps. “I see you’ve figured it out, Detective. Have you, Peyton? You’re a smart girl. You’re my daughter, after all.”
At the mention of her name, Peyton tried to take a step forward but Ellis held her back. The arm that held a gun to Buffy’s heart hadn’t wavered for a moment.
“I think so. You were at Caldwell’s trial, weren’t you? In the other room behind the mirror.”
“Yes. I knew you were there, of course, but you didn’t know about me.”
Ellis’s arm tightened around Peyton’s waist, pulling her closer. “Nigel works for you. Grant Hollister is working to take away your power.”
“You are a smart one,” her mother praised with a wider smile. “I should have killed you earlier but I knew Peyto
n had a soft spot for you. My mistake.”
“You don’t make many,” Ellis replied confidently, his tone perfectly calm and soothing. “But letting Peyton marry Greg was one of them. He figured it all out. He and his friends knew that you were in control of the rogue faction so you had Caldwell kill them. You let Peyton live because you had a soft spot for her too.”
Sweat trickled down Peyton’s forehead as she surveyed her mother. A woman she’d thought she knew well but it had all been an elaborate ruse. They’d never been a happy family but this was beyond her imagination. All these years she’d resented her father but it had been her mother that was evil.
Still holding out a thread of hope, she covertly glanced at her father’s chest to see if he was still breathing, but he was gray and still. Hadn’t he been tough and indomitable all of her life? She could only pray that this was one of those times.
“Sadly even I am only human. The marriage was something Chuck insisted on and I couldn’t tip my hand by protesting too much.” Buffy waved the gun at her husband on the floor. “At first I thought Greg was just a hard partying womanizer but he was serious about his role in Arsenal. He dug up the truth about my family being one of the founders of Evandria. Apparently he had insomnia one night when the two of you were visiting, Peyton. He explored the library and found some diaries of my ancestors. It took him years of visits to get enough information but he and his friends finally did it. Unfortunately for him, he foolishly didn’t cover his tracks. Nigel found out what he was investigating. That was the end of Greg and the others.”
So much was crystal clear now. “That’s why he insisted on staying here at the house when we visited instead of buying a place locally. The last few years he wanted to come here several times. I didn’t understand. I thought he and Daddy wanted to play golf.”
“They were worried about your welfare, my darling.”
Kiss Midnight Goodbye (Midnight Blue Beach Book 3) Page 18
