by Dee Davis
"What do you mean?" Logan asked.
"Well, I know who it was. Or at least who was behind it and I’m convinced it has nothing to do with any of this."
"Don’t you think maybe I should be the judge of that?" Logan asked, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
Emily blew out a breath. "It was my father. He—um—was looking for something."
"Well, that part was pretty apparent. But what could Gideon have that your father would want?" Logan paused for a moment and then his eyes widened. "The evidence that set Gideon free. I always knew there was more to the story."
"It doesn’t matter," Gideon broke in before Logan could take the turn in conversation further. "It isn’t relevant here. Blake Masterson is guilty of a hell of a lot of things, but killing Irwin and all the rest—not one of them. He’d never put Emily at risk like that."
Logan shrugged. "It wouldn’t be the first time desperation drove someone to hurt the people they love."
"It wasn’t him." Gideon’s tone brooked no argument and after a beat, Logan lifted a hand in surrender.
"Fine," he said. "I’ll let it go. For now." His narrowed as he studied Gideon. "After the break-in, we come to your little foray into New Jersey."
"We were just following a lead. And hell, it wasn’t like you’d zeroed in on Tyler. Seems to me we were doing your job. And I contacted you."
"Declan called, you mean."
"Well, I had other things on my mind." Gideon shifted his gaze, his eyes seeming to devour her, and despite the gravity of the situation, Emily felt the hot wash of a blush.
"Which brings us to the car bomb," Logan said. "Your car, right?"
"Yeah." Gideon nodded, his expression turning grim.
"So whoever planted it was probably gunning for you."
"It would seem the most likely explanation."
"Well, I’ll be damned if I can see how any of this fits together," Logan said, his forehead creasing in a frown. "Why would Irwin’s killer suddenly be trying to kill you?"
"Because I’m getting too close to the answers. Or maybe because I’m keeping him from getting to Emily. Either way, it reeks of desperation."
"Maybe. But none of this gets us any closer to figuring out who is pulling the strings. The list to off Irwin was probably miles long. And not to be disrespectful," Logan’s shot an apologetic look in Emily’s direction, "but your father isn’t exactly a man noted for making friends."
"Meaning you think what happened to me could be a way to get to my father?"
"Hurting you hurts him. Gideon already said that your father cares enough about you not to put you in harm’s way."
"He more than cares about her," Gideon said, pulling his hand free as he restlessly pushed to his feet. "He’s obsessed. Or at least he’s obsessed with what he thinks she can contribute to the dynasty."
Emily opened her mouth to protest, but closed it, her heart twisting with pain. Gideon was right. Her father’s love was poison. He’d spent her entire life trying to manipulate her in one way or another. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
"God, Em," Gideon said, kneeling down beside her. "I didn’t mean that the way it sounded."
"Yes, you did. And you’re right. My father wants what he wants and isn’t very patient with people who get in his way." She looked away, ashamed at what her father had put him through. At how easily he’d made her believe that Gideon had betrayed her.
Gideon moved to stand by the window, the setting sun casting his face in shadow.
"I know Masterson is a bastard," Logan said, cutting to the chase, "but if I believe what you’re telling me, he isn’t the perp. And right now we need to concentrate on that."
Emily lifted her chin with a nod. There was no sense in falling apart now. She’d made it this far. The least she could do was hold it together for a little longer.
"There’s something we haven’t told you." She shot a look at Gideon, but his expression was still unreadable. "Gideon found Jesse Tyler’s phone at the motel."
"The one that conveniently isn’t with the rest of the evidence pulled from the crime scene?"
"I’m not going to apologize for doing my job. I’m supposed to be protecting Emily and if I’d left the phone behind, you and the Jersey police would still be haggling over jurisdiction. Instead, Ryder broke into the phone and found something interesting."
"Care to share with the class?"
Gideon looked to Emily and she tipped her head in answer. It was time to come clean with the rest of it. Maybe Logan Ceraso could actually help them.
"Looks like Vincent Masterson was working with Jesse Tyler to try and set Irwin up for blackmail." He went on to tell his friend the rest of what they knew and Emily tried to maintain a calm she most definitely did not feel.
Clearly both her uncle and her father had been involved in illegal activities. More than that actually—both of them had been trying to hurt someone. And even if Irwin had been a predator, it didn’t make it right and it didn’t make up for the fact that Jesse Tyler and Jack Wetherston had wound up as collateral damage.
Still, she couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that Uncle Vincent would have involved her in any of it. And certainly not try to kill her. Just the idea of it made her want to throw up.
"Well, as much as I hate to say this in present company—" Logan shot a sympathetic look in her direction "—I can’t say I’m surprised about Vincent. I didn’t know about his involvement with Jesse Tyler. But Masterson has been on our radar for a while now. Seems he’s gotten himself in deep with Yuri Patanko."
"The Russian crime lord?" Gideon let out a low whistle. "That’s not good news."
"No. But it might explain the expertise when it comes to things like car bombs."
"Are you saying my uncle is involved with gangsters?" The situation just kept getting worse.
"I don’t think they call them that anymore." Logan smothered a smile. "But yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve been trying to get authorization for a wiretap, but I’ve been getting flak from the DA’s office."
"Well, now that we know that Vincent’s connection to Patanko might be related to all of this, then you might try going through Jules Clarke. She’s Em’s best friend. And I know she’d do anything to help."
"Funny you should say that. It was her office that denied the request. Said there wasn’t enough cause to validate issuing a warrant."
"She can be a stickler," Emily said, forcing herself away from her tumbling thoughts. "But try her again. And tell her I sent you."
"I will." Logan nodded.
"I don’t know for sure what this is all about, but I do know that my uncle has been working on a project. Something with defense technology. My father says it’s just a worthless scheme. And he refused to invest. Maybe that’s what drove Uncle Vincent to the Russians?"
"It’s possible. Do you know where your uncle is now?"
"No. I haven’t seen him since Tom Irwin’s funeral. Things have been a bit awkward with my family." She shot a look in Gideon’s direction. "But I’m surprised he wasn’t at the hospital today. And that worries me a lot."
"I assume your guys have been looking for him?" Logan asked Gideon.
"Yeah. And we haven’t been able to find him. Although, as I said, I’ve been a little distracted." He offered her a tender smile and Emily felt the warmth from across the room. "I assume you have men watching him?"
"Only when we think something might be coming down. As I said—no warrant. So not constant surveillance, no. But I’ll have some of my people try to run him to ground. And until then, I suggest the two of you lay low. I suppose it’s too much to ask that you let me handle this from here on out?"
"Not fucking likely," Gideon growled. "I take care of what’s mine."
Emily shivered at the possessiveness in his tone.
Logan pushed to his feet with a sardonic shrug. "Honest truth? Wouldn’t have it any other way."
CHAPTER 25
&nbs
p; "OH MY GOD, EMILY," Jules cried as she crossed Emily’s living room to give her a cautious hug. "I came as soon as I heard. Are you really all right?"
"More or less. I’m pretty banged up," Emily said with a wince as she settled again in a chair by the fireplace, Bailey curled up protectively at her feet. Gideon was in the kitchen on the phone with Ryder arranging for a couple of his men to watch the brownstone. "But it could have been a whole lot worse."
"I was tied up in court when your father’s call came in. I came to the hospital as soon as I could get away." Jules perched on the arm of the sofa, her brows drawn together in apology. "But they told me you’d left with Detective Ceraso. I thought he’d figured things out and you’d been arrested. So I rushed over there only to be told that Gideon had brought you home." She shot a look into the kitchen, then turned her attention back to Emily. "What happened? Are you out on bail?"
"No. I was never under arrest. Logan had questions about the bombing. And we just decided that with everything that had happened, it was time to tell him what was really going on."
"Logan?" Jules queried, lifting an eyebrow.
Emily felt the heat of a blush. "Apparently he and Gideon are old friends."
"I see. And because of that he just let you go?" Her frown deepened as she crossed her arms, the diamonds in her bracelet flashing in the light.
"Yes. Well, no. He let me go because there was no reason to hold me. There’s forensic evidence proving that I couldn’t possibly have killed the senator. Gideon’s sending it to him. And since we came clean about everything, he didn’t even charge me with concealing evidence or whatever."
"So you’re totally in the clear?"
Emily sucked in a breath, her head pounding. "You sound like you wish I’d been charged with something."
"No." Jules waved a hand through the air in negation of the thought. "Of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all. It’s not that often that the police let something like this go. Especially someone like Logan Ceraso."
"I think he understands this isn’t my fault. And that calling Gideon was the first thing I thought of under the circumstances."
"Yes, but you tampered with a crime scene."
"I know. And I feel awful about that. If I had to do it again, I’d call the police. But I was so freaked out. And all I could think of was how it was going to play in the press."
"And impact your father."
"Yes." Emily’s gut twisted as she thought about her father. "Anyway, we told Logan about the attempts on my life, about Jack’s threats—even about my father’s tangential involvement."
"Tangential?" Jules blew out an angry huff of breath. "I’d hardly say that. Your father is far from innocent and his relationship with the senator had definitely taken a turn for the worse."
"Because of me. Which means there’s no way he would have left me in the cross-hairs or tried to make it look like I committed suicide. Regardless what else my father is guilty of, I don’t believe he’s part of this—at least directly."
"Maybe not, but the whole thing reeks of his kind of manipulation. Maybe he just didn’t mean for it to go this far. Have you talked to him?"
"Yes. At the hospital." She paused, the nasty scene replaying itself in her mind for the millionth time. "I kicked him out."
"Oh, Emily. I’m sorry." Jules leaned back, crossing her arms, her posture almost at odds with the sentiment.
Emily pushed the thought away. Now she was doubting everyone. "It’s all right. I should have done it ages ago. Unfortunately, I seemed to have turned a blind eye where he’s concerned. Uncle Vincent as well. But then I guess you already know a little bit about that." She reached down to stroke Bailey’s ears, the motion soothing her more than it probably did her dog.
"I’m not following," Jules said, her expression guarded.
"I know that the police asked you to approve a wiretap. Something to do with Uncle Vincent and the mob."
"Ceraso shouldn’t have shared that with you. But I guess it doesn’t matter. I turned them down."
"I hope it wasn’t in an effort to protect me." Emily hated the idea that she’d somehow dragged Jules into this mess.
"No, of course not. They didn’t have enough evidence. There’s no way I could have gotten a judge to sign off on it. Yuri Patanko has dealings with all kinds of people and some of them are quite legitimate."
She offered her friend a weak smile. "Thank you for that. I only wish I thought that Uncle Vincent was innocent." She quickly sketched out what they knew.
"Not exactly comforting," Jules said. "Although it doesn’t mean that Vincent knew what Jesse Tyler was going to do."
"But it doesn’t mean he didn’t either. And now no one can find him. Which scares me to death when you think about what happened to Jack Wetherston and to Jesse Tyler."
"Your uncle is good at looking out for himself. Besides, he’s a Masterson, which means he’ll land on his feet. Nothing ever seems to touch any of you. It’s like you all lead charmed lives."
Emily flinched. "I hardly think my life is charmed. A few days ago I woke up in the arms of a dead man. And then I find out that my father almost destroyed the man I love. My uncle may very well be a murderer, and even if he isn’t, someone out there is trying to kill me. So I’m not sure how you can call that landing on my feet."
Jules held up an apologetic hand. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just meant that it could be much worse."
"Yes." Emily wrapped her arms around herself, trying to contain a shudder. "I could be dead."
"Hey, everything all right in here?" Gideon asked as he walked into the room, shooting a scowl in Jules’ direction.
"Yeah." Jules pushed to her feet. "I was just a little freaked out. I heard about the car bomb and rushed to the hospital, only to find out that Emily had been taken to the police station. Honestly, considering everything that’s happened, I thought I’d be bailing her out of jail."
"Well, you had to know I wasn’t going to let that happen." Gideon’s hand settled on Emily’s shoulder and she drew in a shaky breath, trying to sort through her careening feelings.
"I suppose that makes sense. Except that I didn’t know you were with her. Anyway," she said, her attention moving back to Emily, "in my relief at finding you okay, I somehow managed to say the wrong thing. I’m sorry."
"It’s all right. This isn’t a normal situation," Emily said, suddenly feeling as if she’d aged a thousand years in the past few days. "And besides, I know that all of this has to be hurting your campaign. Your association with my family is well known. And as I said before, all of this is perfect fodder for the tabloids."
"My campaign will be fine. Believe me, I’m far more worried about you. What with your father’s betrayal and Vincent on the lam."
Emily felt another twist of pain.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. You’re tired. We can talk about this later. For now I can see that Gideon has things covered. Are we still on for tomorrow?"
"I’m sorry?" Emily searched her beleaguered brain, trying to remember what they’d scheduled for tomorrow.
"We’re supposed to be planning my next fundraiser." Jules frowned, her hand cutting through the air in emphasis.
"Oh God. With everything happening, I’d forgotten."
"I need your help." Jules wasn’t one to ask for anything really and Emily felt a wash of remorse.
"Of course. I’ll be there."
"No," Gideon said. "She won’t. She’s not safe in a public setting."
"Then we can meet here," Emily was quick to say, wanting nothing more than to preserve her friendship. So much had been lost today.
"Of course," Jules said. "Meeting here will be fine. Say ten o’clock?"
Emily looked to Gideon, who nodded. She hated that she needed his approval, but everything was so tenuous. She had to be careful. "I’m sorry. I know I’m making things difficult," she said to Jules.
"Nonsense. I totally understand. Right now yo
u just need to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow."
Jules turned to go and Emily frowned, feeling a lot like Alice down the rabbit hole. Reality standing on its head. Even her relationship with Jules seemed changed somehow. Or maybe the truth was that nothing would ever be the same again. Still, she hated to leave things unsaid.
"For what it’s worth, Jules, you didn’t say anything wrong. You were right the other day when you said I was a princess." Gideon’s hand tightened on her shoulder, but she shook him off, squaring her shoulders. "I’ve been living with my head in the sand. Believing what I wanted to believe. And ignoring the disaster unfolding around me. I’m not saying I deserved what happened to me. But had I been paying closer attention—had I believed what my heart told me was true—then maybe I could have side-stepped this somehow. Realized the hard truth about both my uncle and my father."
"I’m not sure that would have stopped any of this from happening," Jules said, her steady gaze encompassing them both as she prepared to leave. "Anyway, should have, would have, could have... There’s no use second guessing what’s already happened. The important thing now is to face reality and deal with things as they are. One way or the other, everything will come out the way it’s supposed to be. You’ll see."
*****
BLAKE MASTERSON STARED into the golden liquid filling his glass. Nothing like a twenty-six-year-old scotch to make a man forget his problems. Or at least ease the pain of the damn things. Tossing back the alcohol, with a hell of a lot less aplomb than the whisky deserved, he grimaced and poured himself another round, then crossed his study to stand at the window looking out on the deepening shadows of Sutton Place.
Except for the sound of the grandfather clock in the hall, the apartment was strangely silent. He’d given the staff the night off, needing time alone to nurse his fucking wounds. Inflicted by that son of a bitch Sloan and his daughter.
Emily.
Just the thought of her made his breath catch in his throat. The look of hurt and betrayal in her eyes carving itself deep into his heart. He wasn’t a man given to foolish emotions. He prided himself in fact on his ability to go for the jugular without second thought. But if he had a soul—surely it was Emily. His daughter was everything—or at least she had been. Now, as surely as if he’d thrown her out himself, she was gone.
