by Barbara Gee
In his defense, Elliot had never really had to make these kinds of decisions, because he paid people big money to make them for him. When his “strategizing” led to dicey situations, his people evaluated things and told him what he needed to do to stay out of trouble.
Elliot had the money, his people had the street smarts. It was a winning combination—or it had been, until now.
The missing Craig had been his main person for over thirty years. The best and most highly compensated one, and the one Elliot needed right now, worse than he ever had before.
It had been almost two days since Craig had left for North Dakota, and he’d neither called himself, nor answered the many, many calls Elliot had placed to him. That wasn’t normal, which meant something could be very wrong. Craig might already be in custody, or on the run like Elliot himself. Or maybe he hadn’t even gotten near Callie Green yet. Maybe she didn’t ride her horse every day, and Craig was still waiting for his chance to stage the “accident.”
Elliot was clinging to the hope that Craig was still a free man, because so far there had been nothing on any of the news sites up there about a man being arrested for murder or attempted murder. Surely if Craig was in custody, it would have been big news in that small town.
Maybe Elliot’s stubborn hope was foolish, but the alternative was worse. He could either continue to believe Craig would come through, or give up on his old friend altogether. Which was unfathomable. Craig had been in Elliot’s life since they were ten years old. He always came through in a pinch, and he would this time, too. He’d call in soon and explain that he’d lost his burner phone, or the battery had gone dead and he’d forgotten the charger.
Since that phone was his only means of untraceable contact, and Craig would never take a risk on any form of communication that wasn’t completely secure, either of those excuses were actually believable. Maybe even plausible.
Elliot had to keep the faith. If anyone could pull a rabbit out of his hat just when things seemed the most dire, it was Craig O’Riley.
They needed an extra big rabbit this time, however, and it was high time to grab it. No, scratch that. The big fat rabbit should have come out a long time ago. Before Elliot found himself hiding out in a dirty, musty warehouse without so much as a bottle of water to cut the dust.
He stabbed his hands through his hair—the perfectly cut and styled hair that was almost never mussed. For the hundredth time he wondered why the three cops had shown up at his front door and told him he needed to come down to the station for questioning. He’d asked them of course, in a very nice and polite manner, but they’d refused to say. Which led Elliot to believe they suspected him of something, but didn’t yet have enough to arrest him.
Assuming it had to do with Callie Green, Elliot had panicked and ran. But what if it wasn’t about her at all? Maybe it was something minor, something his stable of lawyers could have easily fixed….until he’d gone and screwed everything up by running, making it clear he had something more to hide.
And now here he was, alone, desperate, and with no idea of what to do next.
Elliot suddenly felt like he was going to explode. He put his arm against his mouth to muffle the long, frustrated roar he couldn’t hold back. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to go for Elliot Tate. He was so close, SO CLOSE, to finally getting what he’d committed to all those years ago. He’d known what he wanted, and he’d spent the last twenty years doing whatever it took to get it, including getting rid of the little sister who would have claimed half of his inheritance.
Only he hadn’t REALLY gotten rid of her, had he? And now his momentary weakness had come back to haunt him.
Elliot slammed his fist into the wall of the office that had been built into a corner of the warehouse, then shook his hand, cursing at the pain. He knew he needed to get a grip and think this through. Better yet, he needed to talk to Craig. Needed it bad. What in the world was happening up there in North Dakota?
Elliot made himself count out ten long, slow breaths, then he tried again to evaluate his situation.
At least he had a safe place to hide. It wasn’t common knowledge that Tate Holdings owned this empty warehouse, so it wouldn’t be on the short-list of buildings to be searched. They’d find it eventually, but he should have some time. Time to think, and to give Craig a little more time to get in touch. If his friend was on the run, or just hanging out waiting for a chance to kill Callie, he’d eventually find a way to make contact, right? But would it be in time?
Elliot started trembling again. He couldn’t believe he was in this mortifying position right when he’d been so tantalizingly close to achieving everything he’d been fighting for. The unlimited money, the freedom, the status. It was a lifestyle very, very few ever attained and it had FINALLY been within his reach.
A few days ago, he could all but taste it.
Now the only thing he tasted was fear. And the dust of the old warehouse.
And it was all because of Lila.
***
Soon after telling Callie her “real” name, Vince got a call from Tuck and left the room to take it.
Callie waited silently for him to return, staring at the monitor showing her heartbeat. The jagged line scrolled continuously across the screen, jumping up and down in a regular pattern. It would be almost hypnotic if her mind wasn’t racing a hundred miles an hour.
Lila Tate.
That’s who she’d been for the first three years of her life and, legally, still was. The daughter of a rich couple who thought she was dead. The sister of a brother who wanted her dead. The fake granddaughter of Jeremiah Green—which was the only one of the three labels she cared about.
How had Grandpa felt when he’d read that journal for the first time? When he realized his daughter had lied to him and the granddaughter he’d devoted his life to raising wasn’t related to him at all?
Callie knew he must have been completely devastated. She hoped his indecision about telling her the truth had stemmed from concern about how it would affect her future, and not from any fear that she’d feel differently about him. He had to have known she wouldn’t care whether they shared the same blood….hadn’t he?
In the end, Jeremiah had done what he thought best, but Callie couldn’t help wishing he’d been a little more selfish and kept the news to himself. Having another family held zero appeal for her, although she had to admit she might not feel so strongly about that if her half-brother hadn’t tried to have her killed.
She closed her eyes and waited for Vince to get off the phone and come back. Thank goodness she had him. If he was by her side, she’d be able to handle whatever she was going to hear tomorrow, good or bad.
She had so many questions and she hoped Gary wouldn’t try to gloss over any parts of the story. She needed details. Every detail he had.
Vince returned and her heart swelled like it always did when she saw him. She might be lying in a hospital bed with a cracked skull, but she had so much to be thankful for. She was alive, she had an incredible man in her life, and because of him she had a lot to look forward to. She wouldn’t let the Tates change that.
Vince took his customary seat by her bed and told her that Tuck, Sheriff Talbot, and Gary would all be there at ten o’clock sharp tomorrow morning, if she felt up to it.
“I’ll be up to it,” she assured him. “I want to get it over with.”
He chewed his bottom lip for a few seconds. “Sounds like there’s a lot going on in New Orleans right now,” he said. “Gary has a private investigator down there, and he’s working with the police. He’s keeping Gary informed.”
“New Orleans?” Callie asked, frowning. This was the first she’d heard that city mentioned.
“Uh, yeah. I guess I didn’t tell you that’s where you were born.”
“That’s where I was when Tabby took me?”
“Yeah.”
Callie sighed and wished yet again the journal would have stayed wherever Tabby had hidden it.
> “Do you know when you’re scheduled to have that hand X-rayed?” Vince asked, smoothly trying to change the subject.
Callie let him, because she knew he didn’t want her stewing about the Tates. Besides, she was tired and needed to give her brain a rest.
“I haven’t heard.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Aches a little.”
“What about your head?”
She shrugged. “It’s not bad. The staples are kinda pulling.”
“Did they have to shave your hair back there to put them in?”
“No,” she said, smiling. “I felt to make sure. I really thought I’d have bald spots.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You want me to turn off the light? Let you get some sleep? You’ve had a long day.”
She turned her head so she was facing him. “It has been long.”
“But it’s been a good one.”
Callie narrowed her eyes and gave him a disbelieving look. “You’ve been cooped up in the hospital since yesterday, Vince. How can that make for a good day?”
His blue eyes were warm. “That’s easy. You woke up, Callie. You opened those beautiful eyes and came back to me. It doesn’t get better than that.” His smile was slow and gorgeous, and it made her heart beat faster. She glanced at the monitor she’d been watching earlier.
“Don’t look at that,” she said, reaching out and grabbing his chin when he started to turn his head to see what she was looking at. “It gives away my secrets.”
He kept his head still, but his eyes moved, searching. “What am I not supposed to be looking at?” he wondered.
“The heart monitor,” she said, laughing. “It’ll show you what happens when you smile at me like that.”
The smile grew. “Mmm, I don’t know what the monitor does, but I love that laugh, sweetheart. I could live on that laugh.”
She raised her brows. “Live on it? Hardly. My laugh doesn’t have the five thousand plus calories needed to sustain an athlete of your caliber.”
“Maybe not, but if I had to choose, I’d still take the laugh.”
Her heart gave a slow roll. How could he make her feel so good with just a few simple words?
She put her hand on his arm. “I don’t want things to change, Vince,” she said softly.
He gave a slow nod, and she knew he understood. Of course he did. He already knew her better than anyone other than Jeremiah ever had.
“Some things will change, Callie. That’s inevitable. But it won’t change us. Believe that.”
She would try, because she needed to be able to hold on to that hope. “Will you be here tomorrow when Gary comes?”
“I was planning on it. Assuming that’s what you want.”
She nodded and sighed. “Yeah. It is. I want you to know everything I know.”
“I’ll be as involved as you want me to be,” he said softly. “Not only tomorrow, but going forward. I don’t want to make your decisions for you, I just want to support you. Be a sounding board or whatever you need.”
Callie told him he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Vince smiled and turned off the light, then took her hand in his and sat there as her eyes got heavy.
She turned her face toward him, sleepily admired his profile, then faded away.
***
By noon the next day, Vince was reeling from everything he’d learned about the attack on Callie and the Tates. If he was this overwhelmed by it all, he couldn’t even imagine how Callie was feeling.
First, she’d answered all of Tuck’s and the sheriff’s questions about the attack. She remembered everything, and went through it in detail. Her voice trembled a few times and she had to wipe some tears when she told them about O’Riley finally getting her over to the rocks, and how the last thing she remembered was his boot connecting with her head.
Vince had literally started shaking when he realized again just how close she’d come to being killed. Tuck speculated that the quiet but distinctive sound of the drones could have startled O’Riley enough to make him flee before checking to see if Callie was dead. Vince said a silent prayer of gratitude, and made a mental note to thank Maddy Simon once again for thinking of those wonderful drones.
After the law enforcement guys were finished, it had been Callie’s turn to get answers. She’d listened intently as Gary told her about Jeremiah finding the journal, putting it in a safety deposit box, then worrying over whether to tell her that Tabby wasn’t her biological mother. He’d told her how Jeremiah had finally come to him, told him the whole story, then much more recently asked him to find some answers.
Those answers were ones no one had expected. There was only one three year old girl who had made the news at the time Tabby had come to the Double Nickel, and that was the daughter of a well-known New Orleans business man. One who was reportedly worth over a billion dollars.
After confirming that that little girl and Callie were one and the same, Gary informed her that Kirk, his private investigator, had immediately focused in on Elliot Tate as the one who had staged her death. He was the one who had taken Lila out in the boat, supposedly alone and with a storm in the forecast, and his story was the only thing the investigators had to go on afterward. Kirk thought that was way too convenient, and when he’d uncovered Elliot’s affair with Tabby, he’d known he had to get the police involved.
Kirk had started by requesting a copy of the police file on the investigation. After going through it page by page, it was obvious that some important parts were missing. However, what was left had filled in a lot of the blanks.
Howard Tate had been married to his second wife for only a year before Lila came along. Julianne had been twenty years younger than Howard’s forty-seven, and of course very beautiful and cunning. Soon after Lila was born, Julianne and Elliot, who was twenty-one at the time, had begun an affair that had lasted until after Lila’s disappearance. The affair had come to light as a result of the interviews conducted by law enforcement looking into Lila’s case, but it was never made public outside of the police department and various attorneys.
So the very busy Elliot had been involved with both of the women closest to Callie. That didn’t do anything to alleviate Kirk’s suspicions.
After reading the police file, Kirk had asked for and been granted a meeting with the chief of police. The chief hadn’t been working in New Orleans when the events had gone down, and as soon as he read the report he could see that the detective in charge of the case had cut a lot of corners, making it look like he’d conducted a thorough investigation while actually skipping a lot of steps and filling the file with fluff to cover it up. The chief and Kirk both concluded the detective, now retired and living in Costa Rica, had been paid off by Elliot.
After meeting with Kirk, the police chief had quietly opened a new investigation. Gary ended his narrative by telling Callie that due to Kirk finding a link between Elliot and the credit card used to purchase O’Riley’s plane tickets to North Dakota, the chief had sent several officers to bring Elliot in for questioning, which had prompted him to flee. That was a setback, but a large number of law enforcement officers were diligently searching the area and they expected to locate him very soon. Also, now that they knew Craig had attempted to kill Callie, they wouldn’t have to stop at questioning Elliot. They could immediately arrest him.
Callie had shown very little expression, absorbing the information without speaking. When Gary finished, she asked him what he knew about her parents.
Gary had taken another file from his briefcase and gone over what Kirk had given him so far.
Howard and Julianne had divorced two years after Lila’s supposed death. Julianne had taken her hefty settlement and moved to Atlanta. She was remarried and had immersed herself in her new life, with no known connections with Howard, Elliot, or anyone else in New Orleans.
Howard was the one who appeared to have truly suffered after his daughter’s death. Kirk had talked to several p
eople who had been high-level employees at the Tate shipping and shipyard enterprises at the time, and they all said Howard had basically become a recluse during the year after Lila’s disappearance. He’d pulled away from the businesses and everything else, leaving his house only when necessary.
Elliot and other managers had taken over his roles in the companies during that time, until Howard had recovered from his grief enough to begin getting his life back.
He’d never gone back to work full-time, though. He was still the one who signed the checks and had ultimate control, possibly because he wasn’t ready to let Elliot call the shots, but he spent more time serving on foundation boards and aiding other philanthropic ventures than he spent in the office.
Then Gary revealed something Kirk had told him about just that morning. Although Howard was only seventy-two years old, his health had been failing over the past several years. He had advanced kidney disease, and needed dialysis a few times a week. For various reasons, a transplant wasn’t an option, and the long-term prognosis wasn’t good. Two years, maybe three.
When Gary got to that part, Callie had teared up for the first time. Vince wasn’t surprised by her emotion—he knew her well enough to know her heart was too tender not to be affected. Her father had well and truly grieved her loss, been devastated by it in fact, to the point where it had changed his everyday life. Now he was terminally ill, and all alone except for Elliot. The son who had betrayed him and was now on the run.
When Gary had finished talking, Callie asked to see the journal. Gary promised to bring it to her in a day or two, once he had a chance to retrieve it. He told her it had only three entries. One for the day Tabby and Callie had arrived at the Double Nickel, one a week later when Tabby had written of her relief that Jeremiah was going to let them stay, and one six months after that, when she’d been in the throes of trying to decide whether to tell her father the truth about Callie and how she’d gotten her.
Evidently, she’d decided against telling him, and had instead hidden the journal behind a panel in her bedroom wall, putting the past firmly behind her. A year and a half later she’d died—in what no one now believed was an accident. Not after O’Riley’s words to Callie during her own life and death struggle.
