by Calista Fox
Michael reached for his drink and sipped.
Scarlet said, “Let’s not stay mired in my accident. We need to move forward in order to figure out what the hell is really going on.”
Sam draped his arm around her and coaxed her closer so that she snuggled against him and put her head on his shoulder. “You should rest.”
“Not a bad idea,” she agreed. “My doctor said I could fly this soon after the concussion, but that it’d be best if I tried to sleep the whole way. And I am exhausted.” Her eyelids dipped.
Sam’s gaze flitted to Michael. They stared at each other a few moments, no more words necessary. They were both pissed about Scarlet’s rollover. Upset because she was injured and it had all started with missing artwork at their family’s estate.
Naturally, Sam was doubly disturbed, since it was his father and brother who’d done the most damage. And Sam was also deeply concerned about how his mother fit into all of this.
It was a grueling position for Sam to be in. His feelings for Scarlet had intensified from the first time they’d made love. When he’d been on the other end of the call as her vehicle had flipped, he’d realized that he was intricately entwined with this woman, feared for her life, would have been wrecked all over again if anything more serious had happened to her. And at the hands of his family?
His gut coiled. What a fucking disaster this was. All of his internal strife and his inability to do anything about it at the moment made the flight seem like an insanely long one, despite the fact that he derived a bit of comfort from Scarlet’s soft, steady breathing as she slept.
Sam’s restlessness increased during the helicopter ride to the estate. As did his tension. He was getting sucker punched around every corner and wondered what else was in store for him.
At the mansion, the trio found Karina in one of the living rooms. Hearing them approach, she glanced up from a magazine she was perusing and gasped.
“Miss Drake,” she said as she set aside the magazine and got to her feet. “Dear Lord, what happened to you?”
Sam bit back a growl, the constant reminder of Scarlet’s rollover eating away at his soul like a vicious piranha. She had a bandage on her forehead, a bruise on one cheek, and a long angry-red slash across her neck and collarbone from the seat belt digging into her skin when she’d been suspended in air. And she was deathly white, even though she’d obviously tried to add color to her face with makeup.
Basically, she was a fucking mess that made him want to strangle someone.
Michael spoke in a tight voice. “Hit-and-run. She could have been killed.”
“I’ll be fine,” Scarlet interjected, her tone steady and professional. “But we have more questions for you, Karina.”
Sam’s hand was at the small of Scarlet’s back and he felt her rigidity, sensed the undercurrent of irritation she clearly tried to contain.
“I’ve told you everything I could,” Sam’s mother insisted.
“Could?” Scarlet baited. “But not all that you know.”
“Mother,” Sam said, his own rage close to the boiling point. “We know about Wyatt Hill. We know about Dylan Reed. My twin brother is the one who caused Scarlet’s accident.”
“I—oh, my God. I—” Karina’s jaw slackened and her eyes widened. Her hand pressed to her chest, over her heart.
“Enough of the secrets,” Sam quietly demanded, doing his best not to lose it completely.
Scarlet said, “I went to see Wyatt in prison. A couple of nights later, I was hanging upside down in a ditch.”
Karina’s other hand covered her mouth. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Sam’s gut wrenched again, his chest pulling tight. He was already in an emotional hell because of Scarlet’s injuries. Now he was faced with the turmoil of his mother’s reaction to him finding out about his dad and brother—from someone other than her. And her apparent horror over the danger Scarlet had been in.
It took all the willpower Sam possessed to not press his mother, not rush her. Instead, he forced himself to let her process the implication of what Scarlet had said.
Michael was chomping at the bit as well, shifting from foot to foot and looking as though he was biting his tongue so he didn’t jump into the fray.
But they both knew this was Scarlet’s investigation. She was the one who needed to get to the bottom of this, and justifiably so. Sam didn’t want to say anything that would have his mother running off to her room, Mitcham intervening, or some other inciting incident leaving them all hanging. This had to be resolved.
Now.
“Honestly, Karina,” Scarlet said, her dropping the polite “Mrs. Vandenberg” label speaking volumes. “I need to know exactly what’s going on. What you’re involved in. What your connection is to Wyatt and Dylan, because they didn’t just come after me for popping into the prison unexpectedly. I specifically mentioned the art theft to Wyatt. And then this happened.” She swept a hand in the air, close to her neck and face. “That tells me loud and clear that I was getting much too close to a truth they wanted to keep covered up. And the only trigger was the reference to the missing collection. That means we’ve all come full circle.”
Sam’s heart constricted further as his mother’s eyes squeezed shut and tears leaked out of the sides.
“Jesus!” he hissed, unable to control himself a moment longer. “You know something, don’t you? You know what this is all about and—”
“And you didn’t put a stop to it when you had the chance,” Michael quietly blasted. “You could have told Scarlet everything the last time she was here and she wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
Karina’s eyes flew open. “I never intended that!” Through her tears, she said, “I had no idea they’d harm her. I would never condone that.” Her gaze bored into Sam. “You have to believe me. I wouldn’t put anyone in danger, especially someone you care for!”
“Yet Scarlet is in danger!” he roared. “Why? Why did they go after her?”
“Sam.” It was a simple warning from Michael. If they amped up this confrontation, they might not get the answers they so desperately needed.
Scarlet was the one to proceed, a bit more calmly. Deceptively calm, because Sam detected the underlying steeliness to her tone.
She said, “I think I have it all pieced together. It was a scam from the beginning. Karina actually did know who Mitcham was when he came into her diner. Somehow, through whatever research or reconnaissance she did, she learned his wife was ill and in the hospital. Using Mitcham’s grief against him, she got close to him. At some point, it was ‘love’—for him, anyway. And then she found the perfect way to steal eighteen million dollars from him. For herself and for Wyatt and Dylan.”
“Scarlet!” Sam thundered. Not at her. But in general. Because goddamn it, her conjecture was precisely what he was suddenly thinking. Yet … It just couldn’t be. “There has to be another explanation.”
“It’s a fantastically plotted-out crime,” Scarlet continued, undeterred by Sam’s outburst. “More spectacular than anything I’ve ever dealt with before.” She pinned Sam’s mother with a hard look. “That was the plan all along, right? To collect the insurance money, have Wyatt launder it or otherwise disperse it into offshore accounts so that it wasn’t traceable if anyone started to dig too deep into the theft, even after the FBI closed the case?”
“And once the statute of limitations ran out…,” Michael added, “you all could take eighteen mil and disappear.” Michael swallowed hard. Started to circle the room looking as tormented as Sam felt, because Michael had just recently developed a soft spot for Karina. He’d doubted her integrity initially, had gradually warmed to her, but after she’d fessed up to the addictions and the difficulty in fitting in here he’d succumbed to guilt and empathy. And now he felt as though he’d been played the fool.
It was easy to jump to that conclusion. Sam experienced the same angst. Though it was magnified a thousand times over because this was his mother they were talking about. And b
ecause Sam still couldn’t fully accept that she’d planned this all along.
He stepped toward her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and stared into her eyes. “Is Scarlet right?” he demanded much more forcefully this time. “Was this all a scam?”
Her lids fluttered closed again. Her breathing turned choppy.
“Mother,” he urged. “Is this true?”
Her eyes snapped open. She glared at him. “No!” She shook loose of his hold on her and moved away. “Absolutely not. I love Mitcham.” She rushed over to Michael, clasped his forearms in her hands, and insisted in a breathless tone, “I love your father. Never, ever doubt that. I was deeply moved by his pain. I was drawn into something with him that I hadn’t imagined possible. Unconditional love, soul-deep love. We have that and I’m so, so blessed. Everything I told you last weekend about how we met and fell in love is the truth. I swear it.”
She released him and returned to where Scarlet and Sam stood. She laid a hand against Scarlet’s upper arm and said, “I am truly sorry you got caught in the middle of this. I’m positively horrified that you were hurt. And for it to have been a potentially deadly car accident that Sam had to live through again—”
More tears fell as Karina turned to him. Sam’s insides were a mess. He felt gutted, shredded to the core. His stepbrother was reeling from the possibility of his father being duped when Mitcham had so freely given his affection to Karina. Scarlet sported wounds indirectly inflicted by Sam’s mother. And Sam …
He was a man raised on principle, honor, and loyalty.
All of that was being challenged today, pushed to the limits.
Then there was the matter of his mother fisting his shirt and staring up at him, imploringly, while fat drops rolled down her flushed cheeks. The agony in her eyes killed him.
She said, “I can explain all of this. I know it’s too late to apologize for it, but I can assure you that this was no sort of setup. Not in the way you all are thinking.”
When Sam swallowed, it felt like razor blades slicing his throat. “This had better be the truth, Mother. Tell us the honest-to-God truth.”
“Yes. I will.” She sucked in a sharp breath. Spared a glance over her shoulder at Scarlet and said, “You’re right in that I had a hand in this. And that I did work with Wyatt and Dylan to steal the collection.”
“Mother!” Sam exploded.
Her head whipped back to him. She rushed on, saying in a quavering voice, “It wasn’t for personal gain, Sam. I promise. I had to do it. I had no choice. Wyatt and Dylan came to me.” She relinquished her hold on Sam and turned once again to Michael. “I had to do what they demanded. I couldn’t let your father suffer any sort of humiliation because of me.”
“Oh, my God.” This from Scarlet. A low, sympathetic whisper.
Sam eyed her. “What?”
Scarlet shook her head. Said, “It’s not that she had no other choice. Your mother’s back was to the wall.”
“Yes,” Karina fervidly contended. “Wyatt didn’t want to have anything to do with me when he found out I was pregnant. He vanished. I had to give up Dylan. I just couldn’t manage two babies. Not financially. Physically. Emotionally. And I’m so sorry about that. But I did what I thought was right for all of us. I truly believed Dylan would have a better life with different parents. I was wrong.”
“Because he has his father’s genes,” Scarlet surmised.
“Yes.” Karina nodded. “Clearly, that apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. And when he was old enough, curious enough, he went looking for Wyatt. When he found him, they started down the path of father-son criminal activity. And when Wyatt saw my picture in the paper with Mitcham at a society event … He and Dylan hatched a plan.”
“They extorted that money from you,” Scarlet deduced, her entire demeanor softening. “They threatened you.”
Karina sank into a chair. Pulled in a few breaths. Sam handed over tissues and his mother dabbed at her eyes. She said, “I didn’t have a gambling debt. I don’t gamble at all. There was no loan to repay. But everything else I told you last weekend really is the truth. I had a terrible time adjusting to the Hamptons. And all I wanted was to be perfect for Mitcham, because I felt he deserved it. I feel that way even today. He’s been so good to me. And to Sam. I love him with all my heart. I just couldn’t have him caught up in my drama. I didn’t want him to know about my past.”
“It has to be more than that,” Michael said, leveling Karina with a look.
The color drained from her face, her complexion turning stark. “Yes.”
Sam said, “They really did threaten you.”
“No.” Her gaze locked with Sam’s and she told him, “They threatened you.”
Scarlet gasped. Stepped closer to Sam. An innate response, even though the man could certainly take care of himself. And there was no imminent danger at the moment.
Karina said, “Wyatt showed up at a charity luncheon one day, after I’d married Mitcham. He stood in the periphery so that I’d know he was there. He didn’t approach me. Then I caught sight of him at a gallery opening. Followed by a concert in the park. I knew I had to confront him. But I also knew that if he’d suddenly reappeared in my life after making a huge statement about not wanting to be in it by leaving Colorado, then he wanted something from me.”
“You didn’t tell my father about the sightings because you’d have to reveal that you have a second son? That you gave him up?” Michael was the one to make the observation.
“That’s correct,” Karina said. “It wasn’t quite a year before you and Sam turned twenty-four. Mitcham had just given me the art collection.”
She mangled the tissue in her hands. Took a few moments to compose herself as best as possible. No one else spoke.
Finally, Karina told them, “When Wyatt came at me, telling me he’d let all of New York society and my friends in the Hamptons know what ‘trash’ I was for ‘giving it up’ in the backseat of his car when we were eighteen, getting pregnant, and then putting one of my children up for adoption … All I could think of was how it’d tarnish Mitcham’s reputation and undermine the strides I’d made in proving I was sincerely in love with him. That I could be a part of his life and the community. Not just be some outsider, some waitress from a diner that he’d brought home to the Hamptons.” She shook her head miserably. Added, “I asked that he not tell anyone I was a waitress but instead let them know I was a docent at a gallery … say we met there. Otherwise, I feared we’d be doomed from the lies I’d crafted to fit in. Mitcham didn’t feel that way, but I begged for his acquiescence.”
Scarlet heard again in Karina’s voice the guilt and shame. And it tugged at her heartstrings. Sam’s as well, she had no doubt.
He knelt alongside the chair his mother sat in and covered her hand with his. “How’d it all spiral out of control?”
Hitching her chin, Karina said, “I refused to be victimized.” Then her gaze dropped, as did her tone. “At first.”
“You would have told Mitcham everything at that point—before Wyatt could do it,” Scarlet guessed.
“I figured that would neutralize the situation with Wyatt. And I believed enough in my relationship with my husband that I felt I could tell him about my past. More so than what I’d ever said, which was just that I’d met someone, we’d gotten carried away, and I had Sam.”
“But there was a game-changer,” Scarlet ventured.
“Yes.” Karina sighed. “Wyatt threatened Sam’s life. I’m a mother, Miss Drake,” she said as her gaze lifted to meet Scarlet’s. “I couldn’t have that. Wyatt wanted twenty million. I told him I could get him eighteen.”
Scarlet frowned. “Why didn’t you go to the police or the FBI with this from the onset?”
“I just couldn’t.”
“They would have provided protection,” Scarlet told her. “Mitcham would have—”
“It was more than that, Miss Drake.”
“You didn’t want any of your self-perceived dirty laun
dry aired,” Scarlet said. “I get that. But—”
“It wasn’t just about Sam,” Karina hissed out. “Or me.” Her gaze shifted. “Wyatt threatened Michael’s life, too.”
Scarlet shot him a look. He appeared on the verge of erupting with his own fury.
Karina continued. “He accused me of neglecting one son, not loving Dylan enough to keep him. And now I had a new son. One he was willing to take away from me—along with Sam.”
“Son of a bitch!” Sam jerked upward, towering over Scarlet and Karina.
“Jesus,” Scarlet mumbled. “Didn’t see that one coming.”
“Believe me, Miss Drake, if I’d really thought I could turn my back or go to the FBI and we would have all come out of this unscathed, that’s precisely what I would have done. But it all got so convoluted. And I couldn’t discount Wyatt’s threats. I’d witnessed his temper and his wrath before. I’ve been on the receiving end of it, as a matter of fact.”
More shame visibly tormented her. She couldn’t look at Sam. Or Michael. Her gaze remained on Scarlet.
Karina said, “It’s the reason my parents kicked me out of their house when they found out I was pregnant.”
“The ‘devil’s mistress’?” Sam offered.
“Yes,” his mother said, her focus still on Scarlet. “They didn’t call me that because of some religious affinity. They believed it because they knew the damage Wyatt was capable of and I kept going back to him. Refused to tell the police he’d beaten me. My parents had no choice but to shut the door on me. Tough love and all that. It was tearing them up to see me with Wyatt. I was eighteen and could do what I pleased. They were correct in their assessment that I was going to continually choose Wyatt over them. I was young and foolish, absurdly so. But I had this incredibly sunny disposition—it was all going to work out. It’d be all right.… I’d show them.… That sort of thing. Then Wyatt disappeared.”
Sam started to pace. Scarlet desperately wanted to comfort him, but she couldn’t make a move toward him or do anything that might derail Karina’s confession.
