A Fortune to Die For (White Oak - Mafia Series Book 1)

by O'Connor, Liza

  “Yes.”

  “I’m pretty certain he’s the one who had your car rigged to kill you. He always uses highly skilled mechanics. Probably came up in the early morning while you were on your hike. I expect Jeffrey hired the fool who didn’t bother to verify which room you were in at the hotel. Jeffrey always goes for the cheapest. The last attempt on your life was, without question, Benito. He prefers abductions so he can torture his victims for weeks.”

  The latter two made sense, but why had Jonas tried to kill her? She was just doing what Helen wanted her to.

  “Why?”

  He returned and sat in a chair beside her bed. “Why would Jonas go against Helen’s wishes? Why did he let the family know you were coming? Because he remains the consigliere of the Campinelli family. The head of the family is Helen’s son, Benito. The bastard has dreams of making his family strong again. But to accomplish this, he needs the money those trees will bring. And while he would never have his mother killed, no matter how much he hates her, he has no qualms about taking you out.”

  “Does Helen know?”

  “No. If she knew the truth about Jonas and how he groomed Benito to reclaim the family power, she’d probably shoot him herself. Nor would she have brought you into this mess had she any idea the danger it put you in. Helen is a good woman who loves an evil man, only she has no idea how dangerous he is because she only sees his kind and loving side.”

  “Well, I was already cursed, so it’s best she chose me rather than someone else.”

  Cobbs smiled and stroked her cheek. “For someone who thinks she’s under a curse, you’ve got amazingly good luck. You’ve survived three attempts on your life from professional assassins. That’s damn impressive.”

  The excruciating pain tearing through her body begged to differ about her good luck. She was in the closest thing to hell imaginable.

  His face sagged, making him look twenty years older. “I wish Traver could see how special you are. But he’s blinded by his hate of women in general.”

  He walked to the door and opened it, checking the hallway. With a deep sigh, he returned to her bedside. He spoke softly, evidently not wishing his son to hear. “I’m afraid if I force my boy to marry you, he’ll make himself a widower as you lie here unable to move. But I don’t want another wife. I still love the one I had.”

  Seeing another option, she spoke up, “I’ll give you the noney. Just let ne go.”

  He stared at her. “If I let you go in your current condition, you haven’t a chance in hell of surviving.”

  She needed a hospital. She needed Steve. “Give ne to the eds.”

  “Give you to the feds? They don’t give a damn about you anymore. They’re wasting their time chasing after idiots like Drecker and, I’m sorry to say, my son.”

  “Steve Illians.”

  “Didn’t catch the last part.”

  “Steeeve Williams.” Moving her jaw hurt like hell, but she had to get the sheriff to understand there was one fed who cared.

  “The babbo who sent you off with an agent who works for the Campinellis? Who failed to impound your car before Benito’s men set the garage on fire? He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about you either. I know his type. I was his type. He’s just looking for the next promotion. You were an interesting case until something better came along. Now he’s after the governor, and you’re yesterday’s fodder.”

  “No!” Meg refused to believe Steve didn’t love her. If he knew where she was, he’d come.

  The sheriff’s brow furrowed. “How much of your winnings do you have left?”

  “All.”

  “And you’ll give it to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  She’d already told him what she wanted! “Return ne to Steve.”

  He leaned close. “I like you, Meg. I really do. But if you’re playing me, I’ll let Traver handle this.”

  God, why is it so hard to get rid of a billion dollars? “Not flaying. Noney’s cursed. Don’t want it.”

  He smiled. “Well, my life has been cursed from the day my wife died, so your money doesn’t scare me.” He stood up. “We’ll try it your way. Once you are well enough to move, I’ll put you in a location I don’t mind the feds finding on the off-chance Steve Williams actually gives a damn about you. You can wire me your money, and then I’ll email the wonder boy with directions to your location.”

  He sighed. “I don’t expect he’ll show, so don’t stay there too long waiting, or the Campinellis might find you. Jonas won’t let Benito have Helen declared incompetent, but if you die, it solves all his problems. Since your current identity has no known relatives, the property will go to the state and Benito owns the governor. So if I let you go, I need you to stay alive or my half a billion will mean nothing to the three billion they’ll have once they chop down and sell those trees.”

  “You’ll get one. They’d have less than two.”

  He returned to his seat. “You won a billion dollars?”

  “No, it grew.”

  He chuckled. “You really do want to get rid of this money. I thought you only had about three hundred million left. A billion would definitely help my cause to destroy Benito Campinelli.”

  Desperate to lock in this win-win scenario, which didn’t require her to marry anyone, she added, “I could hel, too.”

  “Help how?”

  “Choose your stocks.”

  His brow furrowed again. “Why would you want to help me?”

  “Only like Tess, Helen, and you.”

  “Then give me the land.”

  Why could men never be satisfied? “No. State park.”

  “It’s never going to happen.”

  “Yes, it will!” After the hell she’d been put through, it damn well better go through.

  “Now you’re yelling, which is my cue to give you your shot and leave. We’ll try it your way. I’ll go arrange a location for you to be found…if the feds can take the time to rescue you. In the meantime, you need to work on getting better, which means lots of sleep.”

  The shot barely registered. Sleep? Meg was in such pain, the possibility of sleep was right up there with the chance she’d ever see Steve again. He should have just let the serial killer get her.

  Chapter 16

  Meg woke to a sharp pain as someone shoved her.

  “Damn it, wake up!”

  She opened her eyes and stared at Traver.

  “Finally!”

  She wondered if he’d come in here to kill her while the sheriff was out locating a safe location.

  She stared at him, waiting…knowing she was helpless to stop him if he decided to smother her with a pillow. She could barely lift her arms.

  “The enemy of your enemy should be a friend,” she said.

  It took him a moment to decipher her words, and then he snorted. “You’re a woman, which makes you a walking plague to all.”

  “I leased you a truck,” she reminded him.

  He smiled. “Lee mentioned the same. I just thought you were too stupid to notice the lease was for a year instead of a week. Then I decided you were a born sucker until Lee told me you had like three hundred million, and I was going to have to marry you.” He shook his head. “Probably still have to unless you really do give Lee the money.”

  “I will,” she said.

  “Why?”

  Anything was better than marrying Traver, but she kept her opinion to herself. “It’s cursed.”

  Now he laughed outright. “You are anything but cursed. You got a rigged car down the hills, which should have been impossible. You grabbed the wrong key, which meant I got your room so you weren’t shot.”

  “You were lucky, too,” she reminded him.

  He smiled. “I was getting the hell out of town before you read the document and called the police.” His hands rubbed on his knees. “But you never did. Why didn’t you call the cops?”

  “I signed it. Besides, I did run your car off the road. When
the sheriff told me about the extent of your truck’s damage, I was glad the lease was for a year.”

  His brow furrowed. “I can’t decide if you’re stupid or what? Who wants to help a person who swindled them? You do realize you didn’t actually buy the Subaru, right?”

  “I knew I’d been conned moments after you left the room.”

  “So you caused the feds to pull in Drecker for questioning? Did you send them after me, too?”

  “No.”

  “They won’t find me. Lee knows all their tricks because he was once one of them. Still gets a monthly pension check from them. That’s kind of funny. Unless you tell the feds who kept you safe while you healed. Then he’ll be a wanted man.”

  “Why? George worked for the Campinellis. The sheriff rescued me and kept me safe from yet another attempt on my life.”

  “Yeah, but then he forced you to give him your millions…”

  “No. I offered. I gave it to him in appreciation for saving me.”

  He studied her. “It’s a good story. You gonna stick to it.”

  “Yes. I really like the sheriff.”

  “And me?”

  She grimaced. “Not so much.”

  He laughed and relaxed. “If you had said you did, I was going to smother you with your pillow to protect Lee from his blind trust in you.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll have to let you live now. But if this goes wrong, I will hunt you down and strangle you with my bare hands.”

  He seemed disturbingly sincere.

  “You ever kill anyone?” she challenged, wondering if the sheriff had no clue what his son was truly like.

  “No, but I’ll have no problem killing you if you cause Lee harm.”

  “Why do you call him Lee instead of Dad?”

  “Not sure he is. My grandfather said he wasn’t, and my mother never corrected him.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  Traver shrugged. “That he wasn’t part of the family. He wasn’t a Regetti.”

  “He could have just meant he wasn’t Italian. Why don’t you have a DNA test done?”

  “And what if it proves my grandfather right?”

  “Then you have a mentor and friend who loves you like a son. Pretty much what you’ve got now. But if I’m right, and you’re his son, then you’ve got a mentor, friend, and father who loves his son.”

  Traver stared at her. “I don’t understand you at all. Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “You know, the enemy of my enemy…”

  The loud thumping noise of a helicopter crossed above the house. Traver ran to the window and peeked out. “Shit, the feds!” He turned and glared at her. “This is all your fault!”

  A second later, he was gone from the room. She closed her eyes and prayed for them to find her, but the thumping faded away with no rescue, and Meg cried herself to sleep.

  ***

  Meg woke to the gentle touch of the sheriff. “How are you feeling?”

  “A little better.”

  “Think you can walk?”

  “Not even close,” she whispered.

  “Can you sit up?”

  “I don’t think so. My chest hurts.”

  “Well, here’s my problem. The feds evidently do want you back. They’ve got helicopters searching for any sign of you or the white laundry van you left in.” He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “If Traver did what I told him to, they’ll never find the truck. However, flying as low as they are, they could find the crash site, which will probably result in a house to house search that might reach here, so we need to move you now.”

  “Can you help me try to sit?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Of course.”

  Meg recalled a mother who once had declared birthing pains the most intense pain a human would ever feel, but thankfully, afterward, women could not recall the actual pain. Otherwise, no woman would ever have more than one child.

  She could not imagine pain being any worse than what she experienced over the next three hours of travel. She passed out once, but the sheriff revived her with a shot of pain killer and smelling salts.

  Once inside her new safe house, he placed her computer in her lap. “I had a computer guy check your PC over. He was really impressed how well the cushions inside your travel case protected it from harm.”

  The sheriff watched as she gave instructions to sell all her stocks and wire the money to the bank number the sheriff provided.

  Once complete, she closed her eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t just send the stocks and funds so the money would keep growing until you needed it, but this is the only way. I can send you an email of the financial spreadsheet I used to track all my investments, and you can duplicate it if you like.”

  He stroked her hair. “I’d appreciate your advice greatly. How soon will I see the money?”

  “When I transferred my money from my prior identity to this one, it took three days, but I was balking about selling and rebuying. They’ll sell all the stuff tomorrow. The stock and bond funds will be available the next day. Individual stocks take seven days to clear, so they should send the money in two parts.”

  “How much will I get in two days?”

  “About eight hundred million,” she whispered. God, she hadn’t thought matters could get worse, but she was wrong. Pain ripped through her chest, and her vision dimmed. She hardly noticed when he pulled the PC from her hands and kissed her on the temple.

  “I’ll let Steve Williams know where you are.” He sat down, and with one finger typed on her laptop.

  She had no idea if he was really letting Steve know, but then he had no idea if she might cancel the transfer after he left…which she could. In the end, this transaction rested upon trust.

  He turned off the PC, then wiped the keyboard clean, and set it on the table across the room. “I hate to leave you, but I expect you’ll be rescued before I’m even safely out of the area. Don’t betray me.”

  “I don’t betray friends, and you saved my life, so you’re my friend.”

  A faint smile came to his lips. “I’m glad this worked out for both of us. I wish you a good life, Meg. You’re a very fine lady and deserve it. I advised them to send an emergency helicopter. Hopefully, they will.” He then hurried from the room.

  Meg waited for either the pain to ease or help to come, but nothing was going her way anymore. Maybe the lottery money had held both good and terrible luck in equal measures. Maybe she’d run out of all luck when she gave up the money.

  Maybe she was going to die and Campinelli would slaughter the forest of ancient white oaks and regain his power…

  Her eyes opened at the nightmarish thought. No! She would not die. She had to live and save those trees. She had promised Helen and Tess. For those beautiful oak trees, she could endure anything.

  To distract herself from the pain, she recalled her hike into the woods in as much detail as she could manage.

  The giant oak, six feet in diameter, towered above, a hundred and fifty feet tall. Helen said it was nearly three hundred years old. It had been a young tree back in the 1700s.

  To her recollection of high school history, the first half of the seventeen-hundreds had a great deal of European wars between England, France, and Spain, which then bled over to the colonies. The English also purposely stunted the growth of the American iron industry to ensure a market for their own product. During this time, she suspected all the tree had to deal with was the hardships of nature and possibly Indians, who might wish to cut small trees down to make a teepee or bow and arrows…or snow shoes. The Indians here would need snowshoes for the winter.

  What would it be like to live three hundred years in one place? Not to be able to do a damn thing when short-lived people chopped at your trunk?

  Did trees scream in pain as they fall to the ground? She’d read somewhere plants screamed when burnt, so surely a tree would protest their death as well.

  She had to save these trees. Some were older than her country. They had
been here far longer than any of the Iowans could claim, except possibly for the Indians in the reservation in Tomas.

  Was Tomas the name of the place?

  Why could she remember tenth-grade American History but not something someone told her three days ago?

  She pressed her hands to her head. Maybe she could if her head would stop pounding.

  And then it did.

  Before she could make sense of why, the door burst open and armed men rushed inside, yelling something. She covered her head and rolled off the bed.

  The moment she hit the floor a flash of excruciating pain riveted through her body, then it all went black.

  Chapter 17

  Meg woke to a steady beep. Listening to it gave her comfort, so she just lay there for a long time, enjoying the sound. Then a purring came from her right. A moment later, she heard a soft whisper and then what sounded like a door closing.

  Now all she heard was the beeping. She wasn’t sure, but she thought…hoped…the voice had been Steve’s.

  Finally, she garnered the strength to open her eyes. White walls, white sheets, heart monitor… She was in a hospital. She recalled the intense men with guns who had burst into the room. Definitely not the Campinellis since they hadn’t killed her.

  Her thoughts went back to the voice. Maybe it had been Steve’s. Maybe his phone was on vibrate and he had left the room so he could yell at someone.

  She looked to each side, hoping there was a button somewhere she could push. Then she could ask the nurse to find the man yelling at his phone.

  Upon checking both sides and the back wall, she sighed in disappointment. No button.

  So she tried yelling…and quickly changed her mind. Even the effort to breathe in deeply hurt like hell. Closing her eyes, she returned to listening to the steady beat of her pulse. At least, her heart seemed to be working okay.

  She’d almost fallen back to sleep when she heard the slight click of the door opening. She forced her heavy lids up and focused on the haggard face staring back at her in shock.

  “Are you awake?” Steve’s voice asked.

  “I barely recognize you,” she whispered. “You need sleep.”

  He laughed and gripped her left hand. “I’ve been holding vigil here. When you came in, the doctors didn’t have much hope.”