Family Secrets: Books 5-8

by Virginia Kantra

  Eric Jones was back.

  Nothing would ever, could ever, be the same.

  Eric stepped from the revolving door and into the blistering mid-morning sun. The heat radiating from the concrete made the sidewalk feel like a bed of hot coals, but the discomfort paled in comparison to the punishment of seeing Leigh again.

  Damn, hed screwed that up.

  Almost viciously, he tore off his sports coat and slung it over his shoulder, kept his pace brisk. Already, he could feel the cotton of his button-down shirt turning damp and clinging to his back and shoulders. The humidity choked like the noose he felt closing around his throat.

  Mistake number onegoing to Leigh in the first place. He never should have let Jake talk him into it. He and Leigh shared a past that could not be dissolved with a casual smile.

  Mistake number twoa hug. Eric didnt know what kind of fool notion had possessed him to pull Leigh into his arms and hold her as though not a day had passed since the evening theyd started out laughing over pizza and beer. Hed known she wouldnt break into a wide smile and throw her arms around him the way she would greet Jake or Ethan or Matt, but then hed seen her and common sense had fractured into something hard and unrecognizable.

  Hed known she would mature into a spectacular woman, but nothing had prepared him for the sight of her walking confidently off the elevator with an expensive briefcase slung over her shoulder and a cup of gourmet coffee in her hand. Her hair was still long and dark and silky, pulled off her face in that damningly sexy barrette, baring her model-worthy cheekbones. And her eyes. Have mercy, her eyes. They were even more smoky than he remembered, with a touch of sophistication and womanly confidence that had not been there ten years before.

  A stranger, hed told himself. This woman was a stranger. But when shed turned and looked him in the eye, when shed coolly stuck out her hand in greeting, something inside him had snapped, and hed been unable to stand there and pretend theyd never meant anything to each other.

  That was what he should have done, though. He should have just taken her hand. That was the appropriate greeting, and even that was more than he deserved. He should never have pulled her into his arms.

  Mistake number threebelieving their past relationship had any relevance today. True, once theyd shared a special friendship, one steeped in trust and respect, but hed crushed that bond by taking her to bed, then walking away. Life had jettisoned them in different directions since then, a fact driven home by the remote look in her eyes when shed dismissed his request for help.

  Leigh Montgomery had been there for him once before, and in return hed used her badly. The woman shed become was not interested in a repeat performance.

  He couldnt say that he blamed her.

  Three strikes, and he was out.

  Eric stopped walking at a crowded intersection, just barely noticing that the light had turned red. Tourists and professionals pooled around him, waiting for the signal to cross. Down Michigan Avenue, a horn blared impatiently. In front of him, a bus whizzed by.

  Going to see Leigh had been wrong. He hadnt known what kind of reception to expect, but as shed gazed at him through those cool, detached, lawyerly eyes, hed realized with painful clarity that she was no longer the carefree undergrad with the intelligent questions, warm smiles and quiet friendship. She was a woman now, all grown up. He had no idea what twists and turns her life had taken, but instinct warned thered been many.

  The light turned green and the crowd surged across the street, but Eric stood completely still. The last time hed been with Leigh Montgomery, theyd been in bed, her naked and soft and willing, holding him, speaking softly, warming him in ways he hadnt known possible.

  One moment, he thought savagely, turning to hail a taxi. His office was over a mile away. If he kept walking, hed be soaking wet in time for his lunch appointment.

  A shiny yellow cab pulled over and Eric slid inside, bit out the address of his office, then sat back and absorbed the feel of hot air blowing in from an open window. One moment, he thought again. It never ceased to blow his mind the power of one moment, one decision.

  Living in the same city wouldnt change anything. They were strangers now. Friends might not let friends drive drunk, but strangers didnt much give a damn if the FBI came knocking.

  Ten minutes later he stepped off the elevator into the quiet reception area of his brokerage firm. Unlike the elegance of Brightman and Associates, Yearling Investments boasted comfortable couches and a coffee table littered with investing magazines and the latest edition of The Wall Street Journal.

  Good morning, Barb, he greeted the receptionist who enjoyed playing mother hen to the brokers, despite the fact she was at least ten years their junior. Any calls?

  A few. She looked up from her computer monitor. I put them into your voice mail.

  Great. Eric headed toward his office, drinking in the feel of the cool air conditioning. Maybe by the time lunch arrived, hed be able to tolerate the thought of slipping on his sports coat.

  Eric? Barb asked, and he paused. Theres a gentleman waiting to see you.

  In no mood to deal with a panicky investor, Eric bit back his frustration and turned toward the waiting area, where a dark-haired man stood waiting.

  Daniel Venturi, the man said, stepping forward and flipping open a leather wallet. The shiny badge needed no explanation. FBI.

  The World Bank heist? And you said no?

  Leigh didnt need to be skilled in interpreting body language to recognize the managing partners displeasure. Frowning, she put down her second cup of coffee and closed the brief shed been trying to review. I have my reasons.

  Then perhaps youd like to explain them to me.

  She could barely think straight, much less explain to Thomas Brightman why shed turned down a stab at what the press was billing the case of the century. The shock of seeing Eric lingered, refused to fade. Her whole body still burned from it, even as deep inside, she trembled.

  So many times shed wanted to ask Jake or Ethan or Matt about him, find out how he was doing, how his mother was, if hed been able to salvage the family bank, but shed never been able to force the words past the tightness in her throat. The guys were too perceptive. If she asked too much, if they heard the ache in her voice, shed feared they would figure out the secret shed kept, even from them, all these years.

  But nowSeeing him again had been like looking into a distorted carnival mirror and seeing all that could have been, but wasnt. Seeing him hurt. Seeing him reminded her of choices drenched in heartache and decisions that could not be turned back from.

  Leigh? Thomas asked. You okay?

  She blinked, forced a smile. Youll have to trust me on this one, she said. Im not the right attorney for Eric Jones.

  No way could she represent him, when she could barely stand to look at him. Now that hed strolled back into her life, she faced a monumental decision, one that could turn the achingly familiar warmth in his dark-blue eyes into shards of ice.

  I never took you for a coward, Leigh, Thomas said, rubbing his hand along his jaw as he always did when deep in thought. Dont you realize what a case like this could do for our firm?

  She did. The publicity would be like a shot of adrenaline. But working with Eric Jones day in and day out would shred her in ways she never wanted to experience again.
It was better that they not be knee-deep in a legal drama when the truth came spilling out and she and Eric were forced to confront, ten years too late, the consequences of one out-of-control night.

  He wont be arrested, she said, glancing furtively at the gap-toothed nine-year-old grinning at her from the familiar mahogany frame. Please God, dont let him be arrested.

  But if he is, Thomas persisted. If the man is arrested, Brightman and Associates isnt going to run from this case.

  Run. The word made her back stiffen. She hated to think that was what shed done all those years ago, when shed been a frightened, overwhelmed, heartbroken twenty-year-old with a child growing in her belly and a scholarship waiting at Oxford.

  Cal Myers or Linda Miller could take it, she suggested.

  Thomass brows knit together, just as they did when he was dominating a courtroom with one of his infamous closing arguments. He was one of the most brilliant, persuasive attorneys shed ever met. Youre the one Jones knows, he said slowly. Youre the one he trusts, the one he wants. Is something else going on here? Some reason you dont feel capable of taking this case?

  This time she refused to glance at the picture of Connor. Her son. Erics son. Im too personally involved.

  Theres no law against that, Thomas pointed out. In fact, personal involvement often strengthens the passion of commitment. If anyone would be dedicated to clearing this mans name, it would be you.

  He wont be arrested, she said again, but the words, no matter how much vehemence she injected into them, did nothing to ease the chill snaking through her.

  Thomas glanced at his Rolex, then sighed and pulled on his perfectly tailored gray pinstripe suit jacket. If you believe hes innocent, he said, heading for the door, I dont see how you can turn him down when the feds are closing in. A good attorney never backs down from a challenge. Before leaving, he paused for the killing blow. Im sure youll make the right decision.

  Leigh turned as the door closed and crossed to the wall of windows overlooking the north side of town. Several blocks away lay Lincoln Park, the network of quaint streets and turn-of-the-century brownstones Eric had always talked about. He lived there now, just a ten-minute drive away.

  I need you.

  God, shed needed him, too, so badly the ache had eaten at her like a disease. Shed needed him to hold her when shed almost miscarried in her third month, promise her everything would be okay. Shed needed him by her side in the delivery room, when his son had arrived breech. Shed needed him that horrible foggy morning Connor had awoken with a fever of 104 degrees.

  Shed needed him so many times, in so many excruciating ways. Shed needed his smile and his laughter, his steady reassurance, his love.

  But the latter had never been hers to have.

  Damn it, Leigh, Im sorry, hed told her that frigid morning four weeks after his fathers death. Four weeks after theyd created a child. Youve been such a good friend to me, and look how I paid you back. I was out of my mind, not thinking clearly andChrist, I dont know. It just happened. Id take it back if I could, you have to know that. Id make it all go away. But I cant do that. Please, Leigh. Dont let that night change anything. Youve got such a bright future ahead of you. Oxford is waiting. You need to accept that scholarship

  She had.

  And hed stayed in Cloverdale, with his mother and Becky.

  Leigh closed her eyes against the wash of pain, the sharp blade of truth. Their lives had intersected once again, separated now by city blocks rather than an ocean. But something as simple as a short car drive could never bridge the years, the distance, the secrets festering between them.

  Nothing could.

  Late-afternoon sun glinted through the windows of Erics apartment. Theyd told him to sit, but he couldnt just kick back while an army of FBI agents methodically and relentlessly tore apart first his office and now his home.

  Theyd pretty much covered both aspects of his life.

  The noose hed felt settle around his neck the day before pulled tighter. Special Agent Venturi was the consummate professional, treating Eric with a kindness and respect he knew better than to trust. These men were not his friends. They were not on his side. Any casual question they asked masked a hidden agenda to lure Eric into some kind of hideous trap.

  He knew better than to take the bait.

  So he held quiet. And watched. That was about all he could do. Venturi didnt want him making phone calls, and in truth, Eric didnt know whom to call. He wasnt used to asking for help. He was usually the one doling it out. He could call Jake, he knew. Jake was staying at the Four Seasons and Eric had his cell number, but Eric figured hed wait until after the wrecking crew left, when he knew more.

  He sure as hell wouldnt be calling Leigh. Shed made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, wouldnt lift a finger to help.

  He couldnt say he blamed her.

  Venturi! an agent called from the hall leading to Erics bedroom. Weve got something!

  Adrenaline kicked through Eric. No way could they have something. No way. He pivoted and strode toward the triumphant-looking agent, but Venturi blocked his path. Stay here.

  This is my home, damn it.

  And we have a search warrant. Its in your best interest to cooperate fully.

  What the hell do you think Ive been doing? Eric demanded.

  Venturi met his gaze. I know its been a long afternoon, but youll only be making matters worse for yourself if you rock the boat now.

  Rock the boat? Eric bit out. He wanted to hit something, to slam his fist against the exposed brick wall of his brownstone, but he didnt stand close enough. This is my life youre picking apart.

  Venturi glanced toward one of two uniformed patrol officers whod accompanied them to Lincoln Park. Make sure Jones stays here, he said, then turned and disappeared down the hall.

  Eric swore viciously. The air conditioning blasted full force, but he felt as if he were standing in an oven and someone had just cranked the temperature higher. He could feel perspiration break out on his body as his pulse kicked up.

  He was an innocent man, but with brutal clarity he realized that might not mean a damn thing.

  Moments later Venturi returned. Behind him, three stone-faced agents followed, the first carrying his laptop, the second carrying plastic bags containing books Eric had never seen before. And the third, the oldest and by far most sympathetic-looking of the three, carried a box containing Erics banking and investment records.

  Rage and panic twisted through him. Where the hell did those come from? he demanded, striding forward and gesturing toward the books he now saw were computer programming manuals. You cant just take my computer!

  Special Agent Venturi glanced at the uniformed cop, then back at Eric. His eyes were black and cold, accusing. And Eric knew. God help him, he knew.

  Eric Jones, Venturi said in a hard, satisfied voice, youre under arrest for the theft of three hundred fifty billion dollars from the World Bank.

  The room started to spin. This is bullshit! Eric roared, but Venturi kept right on.

  You have the right to remain silent, he added, as the patrol cop grabbed Erics arms
and pulled them behind his back. Animal instinct urged him to rip away, to put up some kind of fight, but he knew enough about criminal procedure to know he didnt need a resisting-arrest charge thrown at him, as well.

  Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney

  Three

  J ake, you promised.

  Alone in his hotel room, Jake frowned. I know, Tara, and Im sorry, but this cant be helped.

  Thats what youve been saying for months now, she persisted. All Im asking for is a date. Is that so very much?

  No. It wasnt. Jake knew that. But he also knew he wasnt in a position to plan a wedding, not when his life was blowing up around him. He didnt even know who he was anymore. He was the product of some bizarre genetic experimentation. He had brothers and sisters whod been kept from him. They were being hunted. One by one, meticulously and relentlessly. His birth mother had been murdered within weeks of Jake learning who she was. His adoptive brother had been kidnapped. And now Eric.

  Jake, are you listening to me? Tara demanded in a soft Texas drawl that hid a core of steel.

  Im here, he said. He just didnt know how to tell his orderly, practical-minded fiance the truth of who and what he was. Didnt know if he should. Didnt know if she could handle it, didnt know if shed be safe.

  So for now, he held quiet. Things are complicated, he tried to explain. The investigation has taken a turn and He paused when his mobile phone started to ring. Frowning, he picked it up and glanced at the text window, feeling his whole body tighten. Im sorry, he said abruptly, but somethings come up. Ive got to go.