by Dee Davis
"I thought that he’d handle things less lethally. But yes, my mistake. For what it’s worth, I’m trying to make up for it now. I went to Patanko last night, under the guise of paying him back the money I owed."
"Get real, Vincent," Declan said, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the older man. "We’ve seen your bank account. It’s empty. What exactly did you use to pay Patanko back?"
"I sold some of my objets d’art. My collection is quite valuable. I’ve got the bills of sale here." He reached into his jacket pocket to produce an envelope. Declan took it and, after sorting through the papers contained within, gave Gideon a nod. "It gave me a reason to talk to the man without him trying to kill me."
"Brave move. But what’s your endgame?" Gideon asked, trying to figure out Vincent’s angle.
"I wanted to get Patanko on record. I figured if I could get him to admit that he was responsible for the bomb, it would go a long way toward putting the bastard behind bars."
"Considering the man was a business partner of sorts, why would you want to do that? I mean, pissing off the Russian mob is never a good idea."
The man opened his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Simple. I did it for Emily."
"Don’t you think it’s a little late to grow a conscience?" Ryder asked, his eyes almost as full of anger as Gideon’s.
"Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is Emily. Because of my relationship with Patanko she almost died yesterday. I need to make that right."
"So what about Irwin?" Gideon leaned forward, studying the older man. "Did Patanko kill him?"
"No. It’s all on here." He handed the phone to Ryder, who took it over to an audio console to have a listen. "He admits to the bombing, but denies any involvement in Irwin’s murder beyond the initial plan to entrap the man."
"You and Jesse trying to expose the man’s sick sexual tendencies," Declan qualified.
Vincent had the decency at least to flinch. "I swear we had no idea he drugged his victims. Or that he’d choose Emily."
"But Jesse was there that night," Gideon said. "Surely he knew enough to have stopped Irwin when he recognized Emily."
"I honestly don’t know what happened that night. I tried to get in touch with Jesse. To ask him what happened, but he never returned my calls. And then when he turned up dead..." Vincent swallowed, his expression full of remorse. "…I ran. I’m not proud of the fact. But it is what it is."
"Self-preservation no matter the cost."
"At first, yes. But then I heard about Emily. And I couldn’t walk away without knowing she was going to be okay. And the more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to do something. Even if it meant admitting everything."
"What about Margaret Grossman? How does she fit into all of this?"
Vincent shook his head. "You seem to be privy to a lot of information already."
"Pieces of the puzzle," Declan said. "We need you to help us put it together."
Vincent studied them both for a second, shooting a look over at Ryder as well. "Very well, I’ll tell you everything. Despite all the havoc it’s caused, it really isn’t that complicated. Margaret Grossman and I have been working with some technological gurus on vital new defense technology. But in order to complete negotiations with the defense industry, a piece of energy legislation has to be voted into law. Without the legislation, no deal. And to influence legislators one needs money."
"Enter Patanko."
"Yes. I tried to get it from more legitimate sources. Including my brother. But I had no success."
"So where do Tyler and Congresswoman Grossman fit in?"
"Margaret was helping me on the legislative end. For a piece of the profits. And Jesse Tyler had a beef with Tom Irwin. I just turned it to my advantage."
"I take it Tom Irwin was a legislative road block?"
"More like a mountain in the middle of a highway. The man wasn’t keen on anything that didn’t benefit him directly."
"Why didn’t you just make it worth his while?" Declan asked.
"I tried. But he only wanted one thing. Emily. And I wasn’t about to provide him with that."
"Which is ironic, since that’s exactly what you wound up doing." Gideon tightened a fist, wishing to hell he could use it.
"I told you I didn’t know anything about that. Besides, Irwin was blackmailing Blake. If anyone was going to deliver Emily, it was him. Did he tell you that?"
"He did, actually. Or at least he as good as confirmed Wetherston’s suspicions."
If things hadn’t been so damn serious Gideon would have laughed at the look of surprise on Vincent’s face. "So it was my brother who killed Irwin?"
"He says no. And I believe him."
"Well I didn’t do it either. And I’d lay odds it wasn’t Jesse. He didn’t have the stomach for that kind of thing."
"Which leaves us with Patanko."
"Who clearly says he didn’t do it," Ryder said, coming back over to the table, still holding the phone. "It’s just as Vincent says. He admits the bombing but denies any of the rest. No murdering anyone. Just the attempt on you."
"And now you can prove it."
"Yes. We can. But that doesn’t help us at all when it comes to saving Emily."
"But Patanko is responsible for the bomb," Vincent repeated as if it were a mantra of some kind.
"He is. But that doesn’t explain the other attempt on Emily’s life. Unless you have another confession to make."
"I don’t. I swear. I was trying to save my deal. And I admit that I tried to catch Irwin in the act to blackmail him. And I admit that I may have led Patanko to the conclusion that all the questions surrounding Emily and Irwin would die down if you were no longer a part of the equation." He lifted his hands again. "But I swear I never meant for anyone to get hurt."
"That’s what your brother said about breaking into my apartment. But Emily could have been killed. Between the two of you, her life has been turned into a living hell."
"I know." The man buried his face in his hands. "I know. That’s why I went to Patanko to get a confession. I want to come clean. I want to help. I just don’t know who killed Irwin and Jesse."
"Don’t forget Jack Wetherston," Ryder prompted.
"Christ." Vincent looked up, the pain and remorse in his eyes impossible to ignore. "More blood on my hands."
"If the shoe fits," Declan said, his eyes narrowing as he watched Vincent. "Was Wetherston involved in your scheme?"
"Not directly. I just paid him for some information. But after Irwin’s death, I think he started digging."
"Which sure as hell would have made him a target," Gideon said, turning to Ryder. "Did you verify that the voice in the recording is really Patanko?"
"Yeah. It’s genuine. And I’ve got to say that no matter how much of a fuck-up Vincent is, he has some major cojones. I’m not sure I have the balls to walk into Patanko’s office and tape the man."
"I’m sure I’ll wind up paying the price. But it’s worth it if it helps Emily."
"We’ll have to take you in to Ceraso now."
Vincent nodded. "I figured as much. I’d have gone directly to the police myself, but I wanted you to have first crack at the confession. And to hear my part of the story first hand. Maybe now you’ll be able to better figure out who is behind the rest of it."
Behind them, Ryder’s big monitor beeped and sprang to life, the image from the security footage filling the large overhead screen.
"Oh my God," Vincent said, pushing to his feet. "Is that Emily with Irwin?" The man paled, sweat popping out on his brow. Whatever else he’d done, he clearly hadn’t been present when Emily had been dragged up to the hotel room. "That son of a bitch. If he weren’t already dead—"
"Get in line," Gideon said.
"Harrison must have sent it over. Which means his program has finished the new pixilation."
Vincent moved toward the monitor as if it were a magnet. "I can’t believe what I’m seeing. That’s Jesse’
s tattoo."
"Yeah, that’s how we first figured out he was involved. We connected you when we found his cell phone at the motel where he was murdered."
"Irwin used Jesse’s political connections and then dropped him like a hot potato—ruining his career in the process. That’s why Jesse hated him. Which made him ideal to help me get the goods on the man. Not that he didn’t deserve everything he got." Vincent frowned, and moved closer to the monitor. "What’s that?" He pointed to the glimmering reflection on the photo.
"That’s what we’ve been trying to enhance," Ryder said, sliding into the chair in front of the computer. "Hang on, I’ll enlarge that section. It should be clearer now that Harrison’s run the enhancement program." He hit a button and suddenly the reflection itself filled the screen.
"It is an arm," Declan said. "And you’re right. It’s a watch or jewelry of some kind."
"It’s a bracelet," Vincent said, his face if possible turning even whiter.
"How the hell do you know that?" Gideon asked, grabbing the older man by the arm.
"Because I recognize it." He swallowed and turned to face Gideon, his eyes wide with anger and fear. "It belongs to Jules Clarke. She never takes it off."
"But that means Jules was there at the hotel the night Emily was drugged," Ryder said, stating the obvious. "Which means—"
"—that Emily is in danger," Gideon said, already striding for the door. "Goddamn it. Thanks to me, she’s home alone with Jules right now."
*****
"I DON’T UNDERSTAND." Emily stared at the gun in Jules’ hand. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning up the mess you made when you called Gideon Sloan from Irwin’s hotel room."
"The mess I made?" Emily struggled to make sense of what was happening.
"Put down the damn gun," her father said, taking a step toward.
Jules waved him back with the revolver. Bailey growled. "Do something about the damn dog or I’ll kill him."
Emily’s gut clenched as Bailey growled again. "Outside, Bailey. Go outside." The dog looked from her to Jules and then back up at her, pressing close to her leg. "Come on, Bailey, go outside. Now." She gave the dog a little shove and with a whine, he scampered across the floor through the battered kitchen door leading down to the basement. With any luck, he’d find Russ or Evan and alert them that something was wrong.
"Don’t get your hopes up," Jules said, motioning them both to sit on the couch. "It’s amazing how easy it is to take someone out when they believe you’re playing for their team."
"Russ and Evan…" Emily trailed off, suddenly not wanting to hear the answer.
"Are dead." Jules shrugged. "Men are so fucking gullible."
Emily swallowed bile, and sat down next to her father. "When they don’t check in, Gideon will come." At least she prayed that was what would happen.
"Maybe. But it will be too late." Jules’ smile held no warmth, only cold calculation.
"Exactly what are you hoping to accomplish here?" her father asked, his voice tight with anger. "Is this about money?"
Jules laughed, the sound harsh in the quiet of the brownstone. "This definitely isn’t about money, Blake. As I said, it’s about fixing the mess Emily made. I tried to sort it out. But every move I’ve made has been countered, pulling me deeper into this mess. So it’s time to end the game."
"You killed Irwin," Blake said, his eyes narrowing in speculation. "And you left my daughter to take the fall."
CHAPTER 30
"THERE WAS A PERFECT sort of symmetry to it all," Jules said, still holding the gun. "She took everything from me. And in return, I wanted to take everything from her."
"But we’re friends," Emily protested, her mind spinning at Jules’ revelation.
"Friends? Spare me. There were times when I didn’t know if I could stand another moment of your whining. Even after Gideon rode to your rescue in the hotel room, I thought it would be easy enough to get rid of you. But he’s tenacious as hell."
"You drugged me. And rigged the gas leak." She remembered Jules’ phone call urging her to drink the wine.
"I thought suicide might pull things back on track. Convince the police that you killed Tom and then in your guilt, killed yourself."
"That’s despicable."
"Maybe. But I needed someone to take the blame and thanks to Gideon’s interference, that meant you had to die."
"As well as Jack Wetherston and Jesse Tyler?" her father asked, his attention centered on Jules and the gun.
"I had no choice. Jack was bent on uncovering the truth and Jesse panicked. I couldn’t take the chance on his giving everything up in a misguided attempt to erase his guilt."
"And all of this. All of it. Was about Tom Irwin?" Blake’s voice was full of scorn.
"No; it was about getting what I deserve. About realizing my worth."
"Stop it right now," Blake said. "Whatever it is you think you’re owed, you’re wrong. You’re nothing but an interloper. You don’t belong in our world. And you never will."
"I belong here every bit as much as your precious Emily. Maybe even more so. I want it. She doesn’t. And yet everyone still chooses her over me. You. Tom. Everybody."
Realization hit like a sledge hammer. "You were in love with Tom Irwin. He’s the man you were telling me about."
"I didn’t love him. I needed him. And he needed me, too." Jules waved the gun, anger and something even more unsettling flashing in her eyes. "Until he thought he had a chance with you. The golden princess. After that, you were all he could think about. No matter how many times you rejected him, he wouldn’t give up on the idea of you. I tried to show him how much better I was. To help him see what I could do for him. To understand that you were nothing but an illusion. But he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t understand. I practically begged him. But he betrayed me, threatening to go public with what he knew."
"What he knew?" Blake repeated. "He was blackmailing you, wasn’t he?"
"Yes."
"And so you killed him."
"I didn’t mean to." For a moment regret colored Jules’ face, but then she frowned, something frightening flashing in her eyes. "That wasn’t the plan. I was just going to help Jesse Tyler. Ruin Emily. Exact my revenge. But Tom wouldn’t listen to reason. He said he’d ruin my life. Destroy everything I’d worked so hard to build. So I stabbed him. Again and again and again…" She paused, her feverish gaze connecting with Emily’s. "And I left you to take the fall. It was the perfect plan. Only you never pay for your sins, do you? Someone always rides to your rescue."
"I don’t understand." Emily clenched her hands together in her lap. "Why do you hate me so much?"
"Because you always take what’s mine." Jules waved the gun, a muscle in her jaw ticking in anger. "You took Tom. But more importantly, you took my father."
"How could I do that? You don’t even know who your father is."
"Oh, but I do." She perched on the arm of a chair, the gun still trained on both of them.
"What the hell are you babbling about?" Blake barked. "Just tell us what the hell is going on here."
"Can’t you guess?" Jules laughed, but the sound didn’t change the pain and rage reflected in her eyes. "God, both of you are so blind." She drew in a deep breath, her attention centering on Blake. "You are my father."
"That’s impossible."
"No it’s not. My real name is Laura Walker. My mother’s name is Helen."
Emily looked to her father, her mind racing. In the past few days she’d been shown most forcefully that he was capable of anything. But he’d loved her mother. Worshipped her actually. That much she was sure of.
"Whoever the hell Helen Walker is, I most certainly don’t know her," Blake said. "And I didn’t get her pregnant. I may be many things, but I loved my wife."
"Helen Walker worked for you, you sorry bastard. She was a maid."
Despite the fact that they were being held at gunpoint, her father leapt to his feet. "I’ve never in my life slept w
ith the help." The last word was said as if it were a curse.
Jules actually flinched. "My mother talked about nothing but your family. The Mastersons this. The Mastersons that. Most children are raised with imaginary friends and fairy tales. I was raised with tales of the wonderful Mastersons. Her stories were the only things that made my miserable life worth living. That and the knowledge that someday I’d take my rightful place among you."
"Your mother told you a pack of lies. I don’t even remember the woman. And I certainly didn’t have an affair with her. I wouldn’t have done something like that to Adelaide."
"You’re lying. I have proof. DNA evidence to back up what I’m saying. Plus I have this bracelet." She held up her arm, diamonds flashing. "You gave this to my mother. And she gave it to me when she was dying."
"I’ve never seen that before in my life," Blake protested. "And I certainly didn’t give it to anyone. You are not my daughter. Emily is."
"Emily isn’t worthy of the title." Jules’ face had turned red and her hands were shaking. "I am your daughter. I’m the one who deserves to be heir to your kingdom. Me."
"You are nobody," Blake spat. "A lying upstart who used my daughter for her own gain."
"Jules, this is crazy," Emily offered. "You know how much my father loved my mother. He’d never have done anything to hurt her."
"God, you are a fool. There is no such thing as love, Emily. The only thing that really matters is coming out on top. And the only way to do that is to have money and power. Even if love existed it would be a useless waste of energy."
"You’re wrong." Her response was quiet, but resolute. "I love Gideon. And despite everything he’s done, I love my father as well. And my uncle. Love is real, Jules, and it’s everything."
"You bitch." Jules lifted the gun, pointing it at Emily.
"No." Blake’s voice rang out as he dove in front of Emily. The gun went off, the bullet tearing through his chest.
"Daddy," Emily screamed as he fell to the floor, blood pooling beneath him.
*****
A GUNSHOT RANG through the brownstone, freezing Gideon in place as he entered the basement door. Holding up a hand, he motioned for Ryder, Declan and Vincent to stop. As much as he wanted to run up the stairs, he knew it was better if they maintained the element of surprise.
