Trouble with Nathan

by Anna J. Stewart

  “I’m just so relieved.” Morgan sighed and accepted a glass of champagne from Malcolm, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight. “The judge made some reference to a new investigation being opened into the Nemesis case. Veronica steamrolled right over that, as if it would have anything to do with me adopting those . . . four . . .” Morgan trailed off, scanning the room as the celebratory atmosphere evaporated.

  “What else did the judge say?” Nathan asked. Damn it. Even if he’d wanted to, there was no backing out of telling her now.

  “Well,” Morgan cleared her throat. “When we were leaving I heard one of the assistants talking about an article in the newspaper about how Nemesis was going to be unmasked in the next few days. And that it was going to take some big family company down the tubes . . . What’s going on?” Morgan set her glass down with a clack on the granite countertop. “You all never stop talking at the same time. There’s something I don’t know.”

  “There are a lot of somethings you don’t know, actually,” Sheila said and took a sly step behind Nathan as if using him for a shield. “We asked you both to come over here tonight because we need to talk to you about something.”

  “Really?” Gage asked. “You’re going to do this now? Tonight?”

  “We’re out of options. And time.” Nathan told him.

  Gage swore.

  “I think I’m going to put these in the oven to keep warm,” Malcolm muttered and grabbed for the containers.

  “Okay, you’re all scaring me.” Morgan looked to Laurel, then Malcolm, then her father. “Dad?”

  Jackson cleared his throat. “Maybe we should sit down—”

  “Maybe I need to find Laurel’s baseball bat,” Morgan cut him off. “What. Is. Going. On?”

  “We didn’t want you to find out this way,” Nathan hedged. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t find the words to admit what he’d hoped to never have to. At least to Morgan.

  “And you weren’t supposed to get caught in the middle,” Sheila added, clutching Nathan’s arm so tight her nails left marks.

  “We love you, Morgan,” Jackson said. “That’s the most important thing.”

  “Oh, for the love of God, would you just come out with it?” Gage blasted.

  “They’re Nemesis,” Laurel said.

  She said it so softly, for an instant Nathan thought he’d imagined it.

  “They’re—what?” Morgan sputtered and covered her mouth, the humor in her eyes dying as she looked at each one of them. “Oh, ha-ha. Very funny.” She tried to laugh, but the sound turned into an odd hiccup. “No.” She shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. That’s—Malcolm?” She looked to her brother-in-law. “You—Gage? What the hell kind of game is this? Playing with me like this? Making me think, even for a second that the three, four—?”

  “Three!” Nathan interjected. “Malcolm’s a recent addition.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Malcolm drawled.

  “Oh, my God. You’re serious.” Morgan shook her head and pushed away from the counter, wobbling over to the sofa and chairs in the living room. She looked ready to drop when Laurel raced forward.

  “Stop!”

  “Wh-what now?” Morgan spun and nearly toppled backwards as Laurel dived into the chair and scooped up the teeny black splotch of feline fur. “Sherlock.” Morgan pressed a hand to her heart. “Lord, but these animals are going to be the death of me.”

  Laurel looked at the cat nose to nose. “Mew.” Sherlock pressed a paw against her cheek.

  “Sherlock’s favorite plaything is Nathan,” Malcolm said. “Just so you know who the competition is.”

  “I’m sorry,” Morgan announced, “but can we set the cat aside for a moment and get back to the fact that my family just told me they’re freaking Nemesis.”

  “Is it me?” Nathan asked Gage. “Or is her swearing getting better?”

  “That’s enough.” Gage pushed through his soon-to-be in-laws and joined his fiancée, taking a seat in Sherlock’s vacated one, and pulled her down onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, as if locking her in place before he aimed laser-beam eyes at her family. “Sit. Explain. And start at the beginning.”

  ***

  Nathan breathed a sigh of relief as Morgan’s sputtering stopped, her disbelief fading as the truth sank in. That said, if his baby sister kept rubbing the palm of her hand against her chest like that, she’d wear a hole over her heart.

  “Morgan, you need to understand, we did what we thought needed doing. When we started, we had no intention of bringing the family foundation or the Pediatric Cancer Treatment Center into this. It was about helping people who couldn’t help themselves. People in advantageous positions shouldn’t be wielding that power like a sword and we wanted to teach them a lesson. Turns out we’re pretty good at it.”

  “I get it, Nathan.” Morgan’s unblinking gaze made her look like a doll that didn’t get played with. “And I totally agree. You’re very good at . . . Whatever this is. I can totally see why the family I’ve always respected and relied on would turn to a life of crime to make a difference. Makes perfect sense.”

  “This would be the sarcasm you spoke of?” Laurel’s lips quirked as she helped ease the tension hovering around him. This would have been so much easier if Morgan’s temper exploded, but, like their mother, the older she got, the longer she simmered.

  “You stole from our friends, your clients, Dad.” Morgan turned pleading and confused eyes on their father. “People who trusted you, trusted us with their money and their investments. Sure they’re assholes and in a lot of cases they deserved it, but you were making money off of them the whole time you were stealing from them.”

  “Not the whole time,” Jackson said. “A number of them were former clients by the time we targeted them. I also forced them to take a hard look at themselves and reevaluate their lives. And sent a few of them to jail.”

  “Because you’re the moral center of the universe. God.” Morgan leaned her elbows on her knees and pressed her fingers against her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. “Do you know how terrified I was all those months ago that you were going to find out I’d taken money from a known criminal to fund our charity? Or how many nights I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t bear the thought of you, of any of you, being disappointed in me that I’d gotten into such a financial mess trying to help these kids? I was petrified you all were going to find out I’d put Mom’s dream and her legacy in jeopardy and the whole time you knew?”

  “Let’s not forget about how you worried about replacing the money you siphoned off from one part of the charity to another.” Sheila’s no-nonsense comment surprised Nathan. “What’s done is done, Morgan. We thought we were doing a good thing, and when it went bad, we did what we could to fix it.”

  “And that makes everything all right now, does it?” Morgan asked. “Really? I was arrested, Sheila. Arrested. And yes, I deserved to be because what I did was wrong. At least I thought it was at the time . . .” She trailed off and Nathan could see her reworking pieces of the past. “The by-laws.” The change in her demeanor was the ignition he’d been waiting for. “The charges against me were dismissed because Dad said he’d had the by-laws rewritten after Mom died, but you didn’t, did you? That was you all protecting me?” Tears sprung into her eyes. “Did you fake those documents? Did you lie to the police? To the Feds? To Gage?”

  Nathan swallowed around the guilt. Given what she dealt with every day helping children survive life-threatening illnesses, it took a lot for Morgan to cry. He didn’t like being the cause of it one bit. But Sheila was right. What was done was done.

  “We did.” Jackson reached out to take her hands, but she snatched them away, shifting position on Gage’s lap as his arms went around her again.

  “I forged them,” Sheila corrected with more of a snap in her voice than expected. “And I�
��m not going to apologize for it. I’ve seen the relief and the happiness and the joy in people’s faces because they feel as if someone was listening to them, fighting for them. This town needed Nemesis. That means something to me.”

  “Sheila—” Malcolm rested his hand on Sheila’s shoulder.

  “No. She needs to understand. I feel bad we lied to you, Morgan, but I’m damned proud of what we’ve done,” Sheila said. “Giving that painting back to Alcina last month, the only image she has of the family she lost in the Holocaust, was worth every risk we took exposing Chadwick Oliver. That we were able to reunite other families with their heritage was life-affirming. We did something worthwhile. And I’m sorry, but you don’t get to judge us for that.”

  “What we did was wrong,” Jackson added. “But we did it for the right reasons. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do with Nemesis. Before and now. To bring justice to those who don’t think they’ll ever see it. To step in where the law couldn’t. What I underestimated was the collateral damage.”

  “Is that what Gage is, Dad?” Morgan turned accusing eyes on her father. “Collateral damage?”

  “Morgan, this isn’t about me,” Gage said, but Morgan plowed on as if she hadn’t heard.

  “He had to arrest me. He gave up a job he loved, walked away from everything he ever wanted to do because of Nemesis. Do you really not see—” She looked up at her fiancé. “Gage, how can you just sit there and accept all this?” She shrank back and Nathan gave Gage credit for not trying to placate her. “Why haven’t you said anything? Nemesis destroyed your career. How can you not be angry about this?”

  Gage pinned her with an easy smile. “How can I be angry when Nemesis gave me you?”

  Morgan blinked more tears free before she swiped them away. “Damn it. Why do you have to say things like that? You’re supposed to be as angry as I am. And I want to be angry!”

  “Be as angry as you need, Morgan,” Jackson said. “We lied to you and we put your life’s work at risk, and because of my callous disregard for the past or thoughts to the consequences of what we’ve done, we deserve every ounce of it. Which is why I’d planned to confess the day you were arrested. I brought that lawyer for myself as much as you during your questioning. There wasn’t any way I was letting one of my children take the punishment for something I put into motion. And that’s even more true today.”

  “We weren’t kids, Dad,” Nathan said. “We knew what we were getting into when we agreed to be a part of Nemesis.”

  “How could you when I didn’t?” Jackson stood so he could pace. “I thought Alastair going to jail all those years ago was the end of things with him. Until those photos started showing up, I hadn’t given him a thought in decades. That he spent his life since focused on ruining mine never occurred to me, but he’s taken enough. I’m not letting him hurt anyone else I love.”

  “What does that mean? Anyone else?” Morgan asked. “Who has he hurt?” When their father didn’t answer, when he returned to his self-imposed solitary stature by the window, Nathan realized with a heavy heart it was up to him.

  “When Laurel and I were in San Francisco, we did some poking around. Some investigating.” Taking a clue from Laurel, he spit it out. “We found evidence that mom’s accident wasn’t an accident.”

  “What are you talking about?” It was Gage who asked as both Morgan and Sheila had lost all color in their faces. “What evidence?”

  “Alastair’s wife’s watch was found at the scene of your mother’s car crash,” Laurel said. “Your Dad didn’t realize it wasn’t hers until Nathan asked him to check. The file’s there.” She pointed to the smaller stack of files she’d set on the coffee table. “We went over them on the plane. The accidents were almost identical, twenty years to the day apart.”

  “Mom was murdered?” Sheila squeezed her eyes shut and bent forward. “By Alastair Manville? Oh, God.” She covered her mouth.

  “You think he had her killed.” Gage started to lean forward then seemed to realize he’d have to dislodge a shocked Morgan. He pulled her closer.

  “From what a friend of Dad’s said.” Nathan sat forward on the edge of the sofa, glancing down as Sherlock forced his way into the space between him and Laurel, who absently scratched the cat behind his ears. “Alastair blames Dad for the loss of his wife and son. I’m guessing the crown became an obsession because it was the artifact he was searching for when he was arrested. In his sick mind, he equates that crown with Jackson. It’s the perfect weapon to use against him to get his revenge.”

  “Mom—” Sheila sobbed as Malcolm wrapped comforting arms around her. “All this time we thought it was an accident.”

  “I almost wish it was,” Jackson said from across the room. “As devastating as this news is, as angry as I am, we have to focus on what’s happening now. I’m not letting things move forward under Alastair’s terms. Which is why I’m ready to turn myself in.”

  “Seems to me you already tried that,” Gage said and earned a weak smile from both Nathan and Jackson. “Is this when I finally find out why you confessed to being Nemesis a couple of weeks ago?”

  “Wait—what? You did what?” Morgan turned on her father, back to Gage. “And you knew about this? Why didn’t I?”

  “You missed that morning’s edition,” Gage said. “But the second I read it, a lot about Nemesis made sense. The self-sacrificing Tremaynes. Who else would have done what they did to save the foundation? To save everything you’d worked for? Who else would have gone to such lengths to protect you?”

  “What happened to no more secrets?” Morgan asked. “Gage, we promised each other no more lies. Not after they almost destroyed what we have.”

  Gage looked over her head at Jackson, then Nathan and finally Sheila. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. Besides, if there’s one thing I’ve learned since you walked into my life”—he knocked a finger under her chin—“it’s that you Tremaynes have a special way of doing things. Especially for causes that matter.”

  “Gage—” Morgan tried again.

  “Dwelling on the past isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Gage told her in that former detective’s voice Nathan was rarely glad to hear. “We have a future to think of, one that doesn’t include just us. The only way to do that is to take out the person who’s determined to ruin the family. Put this aside, Morgan. You, too, Sheila. At least for now. There will be time to deal with it later. Right now, we need to figure out how we’re going to protect this family.”

  “Don’t worry.” Sheila sagged back against Malcolm. “Laurel has a plan.”

  ***

  “So the squealer in the van at Lydia’s party was telling the truth.” Gage tossed his own file onto the stack of photographs and reports littering the coffee table and sent Sherlock into a new frenzied attack, batting at the papers with his paws. “A friend of mine with the L.A. police got a description of the guy who placed the ad. Short, round, crappy brown suit.”

  “Kolfax again,” Nathan sneered. “Mac was right when he called him a cockroach.”

  “That little FBI guy who thought I was involved with a drug cartel?” Morgan asked.

  “A drug cartel.” Malcolm snorted. “What an idiot. No wonder he got booted from the agency.” He stood up. “Anyone else ready to eat?” A few hands went up and he disappeared into the kitchen.

  “I spoke with Special Agent Dyson at the FBI the other day.” After picking up another file, Gage shifted Morgan’s legs back over his. “Kolfax took early retirement, which is good for us because that means he’s traceable.” He motioned for Nathan to hand him the yellow folder. “The driver of that van, a Jake Blasden, was sent up eight years ago on felony assault and attempted blackmail of a public official. Arresting agent? Norman Kolfax. Blasden was dishonorably discharged from the army’s demolition core a decade before for insubordinate behavior and suspicion of theft. He also had a variety of cell mates over
the years. His van mate we met.” He paused. “And one Johnny Saxon, a well-known thief who was recently admitted to the Los Angeles County Morgue. But I’m guessing you all knew about him already.”

  “About Saxon? Yes. We think he’s the one Alastair hired to steal the crown. Or maybe Kolfax did.” Laurel looked at Nathan. “Gage said Blasden’s in demolition.”

  “Yeah. When did Blasden get out of prison?” Nathan asked Gage.

  Gage flipped through more pages. “Nine months ago.”

  “Could he be the one who wired the warehouse with explosives?” Laurel asked Nathan.

  Gage lowered the folder. “What warehouse? What explosives?”

  “You need help over there, honey?” Dodging the question, Sheila jumped to her feet.

  “Coward,” Nathan called after her. “We got into a bit of an explosion looking for Oliver Chadwick’s art collection.”

  “A bit of an . . .” Gage shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  “It’s too late to get out of marrying me.” Morgan cracked a grin for the first time since they’d hit her with the truth about Nemesis. She arched her neck and batted her lashes. “Your mother would never allow it even if my family is a criminal enterprise.”

  “So what? Kolfax hires Blasden, who has Kolfax supply him with the C-4?” Laurel asked.

  “Despite our evidence to the contrary, Blasden isn’t completely stupid,” Gage said. “It’s a good way to hedge his bets and lock Kolfax in on the crime. He gets caught, he can tell them who gave him the explosives. That’s a pretty big bargaining chip if he had to cut a deal.”

  Laurel wasn’t buying it. “But why? When did you know you were going there? How could Kolfax or Alastair have known?”

  “Here’s the file on that.” Nathan shifted the papers on the table, bopped Sherlock on the nose, and handed it to Laurel. “We figured Chadwick was covering his tracks with his stolen artwork. There were only a handful of tenants in the warehouse . . . What?”

  “What what?” Jackson asked as Laurel shook her head and twisted her mouth.