The Legacy

by Stephen W. Frey

  “Bennett found me,” Cole said softly.

  “Oh. Well, did it turn out that your father lived in this area the whole time? You always told me that you didn’t know where he was.”

  Cole didn’t answer right away. Instead he kissed Nicki’s soft cheek as she gazed at him, sadness at the news that he had lost his father filling her emerald eyes. Suddenly he wanted her very badly, physically and emotionally. Suddenly he wanted to find out how it would feel to become truly close to her and allow her inside the protective barriers he had built up around himself for so long. He wanted to learn to depend on her and let her depend on him. Perhaps this new attitude was born of the realization that beyond all doubt he was alone in the world—that both of his parents were dead. Or perhaps he had realized, after staring down the barrel of that woman’s gun on Thirty-ninth Street, that there had to be more to life than keeping yourself from being hurt emotionally. Whatever the reason, he wanted her more now than he ever had.

  “It turns out that my father was an intelligence agent for the United States government,” he said, caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Apparently he was involved in many top secret operations.”

  “You’re kidding.” Nicki’s eyes opened wide. She slipped her fingers into his and pressed his palm against her lips. “That’s wild.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” The grin spread across Cole’s face even as he attempted to control it. But why should he try to control it? he asked himself. Why shouldn’t he let Nicki see how proud he was of his father? Why shouldn’t he show her that he’d missed his father a great deal but was happy that he’d finally found out the truth about him? “Bennett Smith told me a lot about my father. My father was a brave man. He accomplished a great deal.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Nicki said quickly.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know his son,” she whispered.

  For several seconds they gazed into each other’s eyes, then their lips locked and they kissed deeply. As their tongues came together, Cole pulled Nicki onto him so that her knees straddled his hips. While she struggled with the top few buttons of his shirt, he slid his hands beneath her sweater, running his fingers slowly up the velvet-soft skin of her belly until he reached her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and as he cupped her breasts in his large hands, she moaned and pushed her tongue savagely into his mouth. He pulled the sweater up over her neck, then took one of her long pink nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around.

  “Oh, God,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his head and kissing his jet-black hair as he took her nipple deeper. “That feels so good, Cole.”

  He eased her onto her back on the couch. He tore open the top button of her jeans, then pulled the jeans and her thong down to her knees. Instantly he was on top of her with her nipple in his mouth again, then he was past her breasts and licking his way downward.

  “Cole!” She caught his face in her hands.

  “What?” He glanced up, afraid that she was going to stop him, afraid she had suffered a sudden case of the guilts.

  “There’s a very comfortable full-size bed waiting for us upstairs in my room.” She giggled nervously. “Why are we wasting time on the couch?”

  He sat up as Nicki swung her feet to the floor, pulled off her jeans and thong, then stood in front of him. He swallowed hard. “You’re incredible.” He had seen her in a bikini, but never this way, and it was enough to take his breath away. Her breasts were full and firm, her waist almost nonexistent and her hips taut and shapely. “Really.”

  “Well, stop gawking and come with me,” she said softly. She picked up her clothes, then took him by the hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom. Once inside, she dropped the clothes on the floor and moved to him, taking his tongue in her mouth again.

  Cole picked her up, moved to the bed and placed her gently on top of it, then knelt on the mattress as they continued to kiss.

  As he knelt above her, she finished undoing the buttons and pulled the shirt roughly out of his jeans, then moved her hands down, caressing him through the denim.

  “Nicki.” Her hands were like magic, even through the jeans. He couldn’t imagine how incredible it would feel when her fingers finally reached him.

  “I’ve wanted you for so long, Cole,” Nicki murmured.

  She began to pull down the zipper of Cole’s pants, but he stopped her and lay down beside her. “I need to tell you something first,” he whispered. It was all he could do to stop her at this point, but he had to tell her. They had known each other too long and he cared about her too much to let her go any further without saying something.

  “What, Cole? What is it?” Fear showed in her wide emerald eyes. “Are you—ill or something?”

  “I’m fine,” Cole assured her. “It’s nothing like that.”

  “Thank God. What is it, then?”

  “It’s about the other night in New York,” he began slowly.

  “What about it?”

  He hesitated. “Remember when you said how it looked like I’d been through a war when I first sat down at the table at Emilio’s?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes were searching Cole’s for the meaning of all this. “You told me you’d been mugged.”

  “Right.” He closed his eyes for a second. This was even harder than he had thought it would be. “That wasn’t what happened.”

  “What do you mean?” Nicki rose to one elbow. “What really happened?”

  For the next five minutes Cole told Nicki about the Dealey Tape and what had happened in Manhattan before he met her at Emilio’s that evening.

  When he finished, she stared at him for a long time. Finally she asked the obvious question. “Why didn’t you tell me about this at Emilio’s?”

  Cole took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to alarm you unnecessarily. I wasn’t sure at that point that anyone was really after me. And I didn’t see any reason to upset you if the whole thing was a figment of my imagination.” He looked away from her eyes. “And I didn’t want to confuse the Dealey Tape with what was going on between you and me. I can’t tell you how good I felt after we kissed outside the restaurant. I didn’t want the possibility that I was going to come into a lot of money to influence your feelings for me.” The explanation had come to him at that instant and he had simply blurted it out without thinking it through.

  “What do you mean by that?” She reached down to the end of the bed and pulled a blanket over herself.

  Instantly he wished he could take back the words. “I mean, it’s just that, well—”

  “Are you saying that I might have told you I cared for you more than I did because you suddenly had a lot of money?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

  “I didn’t mean it that way, I swear.” Cole backpedaled quickly, trying to think of some way out of this.

  “But that’s what you said.” She rose from the bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself. “I can’t believe you.”

  “I know that’s what I said, but it came out wrong. It’s not what I meant.”

  “Are you that insecure?”

  “Nicki, I’m—”

  “I’ve always loved you, Cole. I’ve never cared what you’ve had or haven’t had. When I kissed you outside Emilio’s, I thought you didn’t have anything.” She was talking quickly now, upset with him. “I didn’t care. I was just happy that we were finally being honest with each other.”

  As Cole rose to a sitting position on the side of the bed, Nicki took a step back.

  “Listen to me,” he pleaded.

  “And because of some stupid insecurity, Maria is dead!” Nicki cried, tears welling in her eyes. “If you had told me what was going on, I might have had time to stop her from going up to the apartment.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Cole stood up and moved toward her.

>   But Nicki backed up against the wall, sobbing now. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Please, Nicki.”

  “Get out!”

  For a few moments he gazed at her, then he turned and walked slowly out the door.

  * * *

  —

  The other night the man had paid the blonde in Hubbard to drug Cole Egan and search his belongings. Now he sat in a car in Cole’s blue-collar Duluth neighborhood, one eye on a newspaper and the other on the Andersons’ front door. When the door burst open, the man hunched down behind the newspaper, then peered around it as Cole slammed the front door and stalked away. He watched Cole move down the street, then started the car and eased it forward.

  11

  Nicki had every right to hate him, Cole thought to himself as he studied the computer screens in front of him. After a long flight back from Minnesota, Cole had trudged into Gilchrist this morning from the hotel where he was staying while his apartment was being repaired. The repairs and the hotel bill would be paid for with the insurance money that had come to his mailbox in the apartment building lobby while he was away.

  He was back after just a week, but Nicki had remained in Minnesota. She had no desire to return to Manhattan. She had perked up for a while, then suddenly and mysteriously become inconsolable again. This information had come from Nicki’s mother, who seemed embarrassed that Nicki had refused to answer any of Cole’s phone messages. Cole pounded the desk with his fist. Think of something else, he told himself. Don’t dwell on how close you came to having what you really wanted.

  Cole thought of Bennett Smith hauling him to the bathroom of the cabin in Hubbard and managed a smile. Bennett was a character if there ever was one, a man Cole had enjoyed getting to know. Not only had Bennett made him feel a good deal better about his father, but he and Bennett had personally clicked. What had begun with a mutual thread—Jim Egan—had solidified on a more basic level as they found they shared a common approach to life: Don’t let life control you, control it. And they had also found they shared many opinions and views on the world—political and otherwise. They were both fiscally conservative and socially liberal, believing that people should work for what they received but sometimes also needed a hand getting started. They found common ground on every major issue they discussed. And they shared an affinity for the game of pool, even though Bennett had exaggerated his proficiency at it, as Cole had understated his. Cole chuckled again, recalling Bennett’s expression as he realized at the beginning of the fourth game he was being hustled. But Bennett had enjoyed the last and best laugh as he had watched Cole struggle with the cabin’s porcelain princess for half an hour. And Cole had to admit he had felt much better after the struggle was over.

  “What the hell are you smiling about?” Lewis Gebauer was in a foul mood. His portfolio had lost four million dollars during the morning trading session.

  “Nothing, Lewis,” Cole said. It was almost noon and the trading room had finally settled down after a chaotic few hours.

  “Did you have a nice vacation?” Gebauer asked insincerely. “Where did you go? Wait, let me guess. You were traveling around the country visiting relatives to see if any of them would lend you money to help you out of your mortgage jam.”

  “How the hell did you find out about my mortgage?” Cole asked quietly, leaning toward the fat man to make certain no one else heard.

  A smile of satisfaction spread across Gebauer’s puffy face. “I have my ways.”

  One of Cole’s telephone lines began blinking. He considered pushing Gebauer harder on how he had come by his information, but it was obvious the man had no intention of revealing his sources. “Cole Egan,” he barked into the receiver.

  “Jeez, bite my head off, why don’t you?”

  “Sorry, Anita.” Cole recognized the receptionist’s nasal tone. “I’m not in a great mood.” Despite the fact that his portfolio had gained in the morning session as interest rates had decreased unexpectedly, he was still unhappy. He had already tried calling Nicki twice this morning in Duluth, but the Andersons’ answering machine had picked up both times. God, if he could just talk to her. “What’s up?”

  “There’s someone out here to see you.”

  Cole’s mood brightened. Maybe Nicki had taken an early flight back to New York this morning and was out front waiting for his apology, which he would be only too glad to give her. Or perhaps the people from the Blue Moon had decided to stop by. His spirits fell as quickly as they had risen. “Who is it?”

  “Some woman who isn’t your type.”

  That didn’t sound like a representative from the Blue Moon—or Nicki. “How can you tell she isn’t my type, Anita?”

  “Because I’m the only type for you.”

  “I see.” He could hear Anita laughing at the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Why don’t you let me tell her you’re too busy?” Anita suggested. “Let me take care of her.”

  “If I let you take care of her, she’d probably end up in the East River, facedown.” Cole suddenly realized that Gebauer was listening intently to the conversation. “I’ll be right out,” he said. “See you in a minute.” He put down the receiver and headed for the doors at the far end of the trading floor.

  Anita nodded toward a couch in a far corner of the reception area as Cole came through the door. He turned and was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. The woman sat at one end of the sofa, legs crossed at the knees, perusing a magazine. Shoulder-length sandy brown hair was swept back off her tanned face by a black velvet hairband. Her features were sharp—straight dark brows above turquoise cat eyes, a slim nose over thin lips and two perfect rows of teeth. She wore an attractive lace blouse and high-waisted pants that clung pleasingly to her slender figure.

  “I’m Cole Egan.” He stood a few feet in front of her. “Were you looking for me?”

  Without urgency she closed the magazine, placed it on the glass-topped table beside the sofa, looked up at Cole and raised an eyebrow. “All my life,” she said seductively. Her voice was gravelly and naturally tantalizing.

  She was pretty, not breathtaking like Nicki, but she had an immediate and powerful sex appeal oozing from her cat eyes and her sinewy body. Nicki’s allure lay not only in her beauty but also in her innocence. She was demure and quiet, and the possibility of unlocking that innocence had always fascinated Cole. This woman’s allure came at him from the other end of the spectrum. She didn’t appear to be that much older than Nicki, but something told Cole she knew what she wanted and would do anything to get it. Something Nicki wasn’t capable of.

  He grinned. “I don’t know quite how to take that.”

  “Take it any way you want to,” she said matter-of-factly. She stood up and offered her hand. “My name’s Victoria Brown, but my friends call me Tori. I’d like you to do that.”

  It was almost as if her vocal cords had been damaged, but the effect was sexy as hell. “All right…Tori.” Cole checked her hands quickly. Her fingers were long and her nails perfect, professionally glossed a subtle pink. And there was no wedding or engagement band on her left hand. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I’m with NBC News.” She lowered her voice as she noticed Anita watching them carefully. “I saw your father’s obituary in the New York Times. I’m very sorry.”

  “Thanks, but why did you bother coming here to give your condolences? Couldn’t you have just called?”

  “My office is in Rockefeller Center. It wasn’t far to walk.”

  “It’s freezing outside.”

  “And if I had just called, you might not have agreed to see me,” she pointed out.

  “You knew my father?” Cole asked.

  “No.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Let’s go to lunch. My treat,” Tori offered, avoiding the question. “A restaurant would be
a much better place to talk. And it’s about that time.” She glanced at Anita again, then at Cole. “I’ll explain at the restaurant,” she assured him.

  “I’m a government securities trader,” Cole said. “Usually we eat lunch at the desk.”

  “I guess the market might fall apart if you weren’t around for even a little while. The way it could every night after you leave,” Tori said, alluding to the fact that government securities traded actively in Tokyo and London while traders in New York were home asleep. “Unless of course the senior people only allow you to take intraday positions and you have to sell everything before your mother tucks you in at night,” she teased.

  “No, I’m a big boy.” So Tori Brown knew her way around a trading floor. “I take overnight positions when the market’s right.”

  “That sounds interesting. Maybe you’ll show me some of those positions.”

  Cole smiled. Tori Brown was quite a pistol. “Mmm.”

  “So come on, let’s go,” she urged.

  “I don’t know.” Cole was leery of people in the news business. They always wanted something and rarely had much to give in return. At least, that was his experience.

  “You mean you’d rather hang around with a bunch of traders you see every day than me?” She smiled provocatively.

  The image of Gebauer gnawing off a huge bite of his daily two-thousand-calorie chicken parmigiana hero flashed through Cole’s mind. He could see the cheese and spaghetti sauce dripping out of either side of Gebauer’s mouth and splattering onto the foil wrapper he used as a plate. “Okay, you convinced me. But how do you know so much about overnight positions?”

  “I had a boyfriend who traded Eurobonds at Salomon Brothers.”

  “I see.” It was obvious from her tone that the breakup hadn’t been amicable.

  “Where would you like to go?” Tori asked.

  “How about La Reserve?” Cole suggested. “That’s over your way, toward Rockefeller Center.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got a better idea.”