by Alice Ward
I shook my head. “I don’t understand any of this,” I told him.
He gave my hand a comforting squeeze and navigated down the driveway. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, sweetheart,” he promised.
“Thanks, Dad.”
I was too overwhelmed with emotion to carry on a real conversation, and Dad seemed to understand. We rode through the countryside in silence. When we were close to the highway, I gave into the temptation to check the news. I reached for the radio dial when a noise from the back seat caused all the hair on my body to stand on end.
I’d heard the soft sound of leather sliding across leather hundreds of times before: every time I’d pulled the back seat down to access my trunk.
“Daddy,” I whispered, my heart racing. “Daddy, I’m so sorry.”
Dad had heard the sound as well. He glanced in the rearview mirror, his jaw set.
“It’s okay, baby,” he assured me. His eyes filled with terror and I turned around just in time to watch Rachel crawl out of the trunk. Her eyes were manic and wild, and she had a nickel plated pistol in her hand. She let out an evil cackle and pointed the gun at my head.
“Sorry, baby,” she sneered, mocking Dad’s tone. “But I’m afraid things are as far from okay as they could possibly be.”
THE END
Continue on to Read Part 5...
UNRAVELING THE BILLIONAIRE
PART 5
CHAPTER 1
I watched through the sideview mirror as Rachel extracted herself from my trunk. Her foot hit the back of my seat, lurching me forward into the dashboard. Dad threw his right arm in front of me to stop me from hitting the windshield and kept his left hand glued to the wheel. I fingered the leaf shaped pendant of my surveillance necklace and prayed someone at the house would think to bring up the live feed. I cleared my throat and turned to the back seat.
“Well, I guess you’re not in Canada,” I observed, my voice dry.
Rachel shook her head and waved the gun in my face. “Of course I’m not. You didn’t really think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”
“I guess I gave you too much credit,” I spat. “The cops found the payroll money, Cynthia. A warrant’s been issued for your arrest. I know you know that. I thought you’d be smart enough to cut your losses and skip town.”
She waved off the suggestion, pistol still in hand. “You’re right. I know your little detective friend found my Swiss account. But no matter. As I’m sure you’ve realized by now, I’ve been planning this for quite some time. I squirreled plenty of money away over the years. I raided the account to get Asher’s attention, not because I needed the cash. As for the warrant, I’ll be long gone before anyone else realizes the flight to Canada was bogus. I disposed of your security team in a rather clever way, if I do say so myself. And as soon as I’ve wrapped up this last bit of business, I’ll disappear for good.”
I knew I was her final bit of business. What I wasn’t sure of was what exactly she planned to do with me. I decided to skirt around the subject and attempt to get as detailed a confession as possible. Before I could open my mouth, she waved the gun to the right and instructed Dad to turn down a dirt road.
This can’t be good. Please God, give us more time. Kennedy won’t be expecting me at the house for at least twenty more minutes. And with the FBI swarming the place, she may be too distracted to realize I’m late. Kennedy, if there was ever a time for us to develop ESP, it’s now. For the love of God, check the security feed and send someone to help us.
Dad held his shoulders high and followed Rachel’s directions. I plowed on with my interrogation, despite my racing heart.
“You said you’ve squirreled away plenty of money over the years. You were embezzling from the company the whole time, weren’t you? Were you smuggling drugs as well? Or did you completely fabricate that evidence to put another nail in Asher’s coffin?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she replied with a snort. “But since you’re so damn interested, I guess there’s no harm in giving you a few details. I’ll think of it as honoring your final request.”
She does plan to kill me. Please God, send someone to help.
“I don’t like to think of what I did as embezzling,” she continued. “It was more like taking what was owed to me. And Asher made it so easy. After everything we’d been through together, the idea that he couldn’t trust me never crossed his mind. I syphoned money from various company accounts. The original plan was to bide my time until Luis was released from prison. As soon as he was free, the FBI was going to get an anonymous tip leading them to the storage unit upstate. There, they’d find more than enough evidence to put Asher and the other members of the family behind bars for good.”
“Which would have cleared the way for you and Luis to take over the Chavez organization,” I finished. “I have to admit, it’s a pretty good plan. You and Luis would have had Asher’s money, the family’s money, and their combined resources. So why get impatient? Why did you deviate from the original plan?”
Rachel narrowed her eyes. “You,” she growled. “Everything was perfect until you showed up. I knew you were trouble the moment Asher took your side over mine. I knew you’d turn him against me.”
“You mean you knew I saw through your horse shit,” I corrected her. “If you’d just acted like a decent human being, I’d have never had a reason to doubt you. But you’re right. The moment you sabotaged my project, you gave yourself away.”
“For the last ten years, I was Asher’s everything,” she said with a pout. “I was the one he talked to, the one he came to for advice. It didn’t matter that our relationship wasn’t romantic. What we had transcended physical love. I was his everything,” she repeated.
At some point during the drive, my purse had fallen from my lap to the floorboard. I felt it vibrate against my leg and prayed it was Kennedy calling. The missing security team already had her on high alert. I knew she’d log into the feed from my necklace the moment her call went to voicemail, if she hadn’t already. I knew our best hope was to keep Rachel talking, so I decided to play to her weakness. I dropped my eyes and lowered my voice, doing my best to sound devastated.
“You know what’s funny? I think Asher felt the same way about you,” I confessed.
Rachel’s eyes lit up and a flash of triumph passed across her face. She straightened her shoulders and turned her nose up in the air.
“You felt it too. I figured you did. That’s why you were against me from the start.”
No, bitch. I was against you because I could tell you were a deceitful, conniving traitor. But if believing I was jealous of you keeps me and Dad alive for another half hour, then by all means do so.
I sighed and nodded, my eyes still on the floorboard. “I felt it. He’s always loved you. I think he always will. Just yesterday, when I visited him at Atwater, he mentioned how worried he is about you. I guess you don’t know, but even with all of the evidence against you, Asher still believes you’re innocent.”
“Who’s full of horseshit now?” she asked, raising the gun again. “Asher knows I’m guilty. He’s never spoken to me the way he spoke to me at Luis’s cabin. You’re trying to make me happy to buy yourself some time. But you’ve forgotten, Lauren. Noone’s coming to save you this time. The security team is probably still knocked out from the gas I leaked into their surveillance van. And your beloved husband is on the lam with his piece of shit father. I have to hand it to Asher. He didn’t waste any time reverting to type. I wonder where he’ll be when he gets word that you’re dead.”
“So that’s your endgame?” I countered, already knowing the answer.
“What did you think I was going to do with you?” she snorted. “Mr. Matthews, I do apologize for dragging you into this. You were never a part of the plan. Though I guess you deserve what’s coming as much as your daughter does. After all, you’re the one who created her.”
Dad glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and mouthe
d “hold on.” I looped one hand around my door handle and braced my feet on the floorboard. I didn’t know what he was planning, but I figured it was best if I kept our captor as distracted as possible.
“You won’t get away with this,” I insisted. “You’ve already been caught red handed with the payroll money. When people realize we’re missing, they’ll know you’re behind it. And I have some powerful friends. There’s nowhere in the world you can run that the Montgomerys won’t find you. It may be a week from now or a decade from now, but you’ll eventually pay for this.”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” she replied, lifting the gun again. “You know, I was going to wait to put you out of your misery until we reached your final resting place. I already have your grave all ready for you. I wanted you to see it. But I’m sick of listening to you talk. And with Daddy here, I can kill you now without having to do any heavy lifting later. What do you say, Mr. Matthews? I think it will be wonderfully poetic for you to lower your whore daughter into the ground before climbing down to join her.”
Dad’s knuckles went white around the steering wheel and his eyes remained fixed to the road. He accelerated as we approached a curve and I instinctively held my breath. He turned the wheel sharply, sending loose dirt and gravel flying as the car spun into a fishtail. We did a one-eighty turn and the rear driver’s side slammed into a giant oak tree, folding the car in half.
For a few seconds, my senses were overwhelmed by the sounds of crushing metal and breaking glass, the smell of Dad’s deployed airbag, and the pain suddenly radiating from my right side. When the car stopped moving, I realized I’d hit the passenger door on impact. I looked to my dad, who was struggling with my seatbelt. Rachel’s pistol sat harmlessly in his lap.
“Lauren, are you okay?” he asked, his words fast and panicked. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t think of any other way out of this. Her side of the car took the brunt of the impact. Not that she’ll be able to hurt us if she wakes up.”
Pain shot from the base of my neck to my eyes as I turned my head and peered into the backseat. Rachel looked like a rag doll draped across the leather. A jagged bone popped out of her left arm and blood trickled from a large, swollen gash on her forehead.
“Lauren,” Dad said again, drawing my attention back to him. I unbuckled my seat belt and covered his hand with mine.
“I’m okay,” I assured him. “But we need to get out of this car.”
I felt my phone vibrate again, this time against my foot. I reached down and fumbled through the spilled contents of my purse until my hand found its target. Kennedy’s picture danced across the screen and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Lauren, I saw everything. Are you okay?” she demanded.
“Dad and I are fine,” I replied, attempting to open my door. It was jammed shut, so I crawled out of the driver’s side after Dad. We stood on the side of the road, neither of us taking our eyes off of Rachel.
“The police are already on their way,” Kennedy assured me. “I had a really bad feeling about ten minutes after we spoke, so I pulled up the live feed from your necklace. The FBI agents searching the house dropped everything and turned their attention to Cynthia.”
I heard sirens in the distance and felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. “Did the audio come through okay?” I asked, barely able to speak. My breaths came in long, struggled gasps and my legs felt like Jell-O beneath me. I lowered myself to the grass and stared up at the clear sky.
“Yes, we have her full confession on tape. If Asher hadn’t bolted, he’d probably have been released within a day or two,” she added, her tone taking on a sad frustration.
Damn it, Asher. I told you I was going to take care of this. And with Dad’s help, I have. I’ve always trusted you. Why couldn’t you have stayed put and trusted me?
I had so many questions, but I knew I was a long way from getting any answers. Rachel was no longer a threat, but that was of surprisingly little comfort to me. My heart pounded and my body ached. All I wanted was to curl up in my husband’s arms. But I had no idea where Asher was, or if I’d ever see him again. The ache of that uncertainty was more piercing than the physical pain rocketing through my body.
“I hear sirens,” I told Kennedy. “You’ll meet us at the police station, won’t you?” A wave of exhaustion hit me and I struggled to keep my eyes open. Dad stood in front of me, his eyes still focused like a hawk on the back seat of the car.
“No, I won’t meet you at the police station. I’ll meet you at the hospital, which is where you’re going. Jackson and I are already on our way.”
I’m not sure if I thanked her, or if I only thought the words. The pain in my body faded away as I allowed myself to slip into the darkness.
***
“Mrs. Reynolds, I know this is incredibly difficult for you. You’ve had a terrible, traumatic day. But it’s vital that we have all of the facts regarding your husband’s whereabouts,” Agent Nelson urged.
I pushed a button, lifting the head of my hospital bed. Kennedy rearranged my IV tube and monitor cords and helped me prop myself up on a pillow. I kept my breaths shallow to avoid aggravating my three broken ribs.
“I’m sorry, Agent Nelson. I have no idea where Asher is. Believe me, I’d like to find him just as much as you do.”
It was Monday morning and I was finally giving my statement to the FBI. Kennedy had managed to keep them at bay for nearly twenty-four hours, insisting that my mild concussion left me in no state to answer questions.
The footage from my surveillance necklace told the cops everything they needed to know about Rachel. In addition to the rest of her crimes, she was charged with two counts of kidnapping and attempted murder. The injuries she’d sustained in the wreck would keep her hospitalized for a few more days, but after that she was looking at a lifetime behind bars.
Unfortunately, the revelation that Rachel had been behind Asher’s so called crimes did little to soften the FBI’s attitude toward him. I couldn’t argue with their logic. If Asher was innocent, why did he run? But unlike the authorities, I knew my husband had a good reason for fleeing. I just hadn’t had a chance to figure out what that reason was.
“With all due respect, Mrs. Reynolds, you visited your husband less than twenty-four hours before he escaped. We’ve reviewed the footage from the visitation room. You and your husband shared several hushed moments. What did he say to you that he didn’t want the camera to pick up?”
I blushed and fidgeted with my IV line. “Agent Nelson, Asher and I are newlyweds. We weren’t married a week when he was wrongfully incarcerated. My husband shared intimate desires during our visit. Surely you don’t expect me to repeat them?”
He studied me for a moment. I’m not sure if he believed me or wanted to spare us both the embarrassment of pushing the issue. In the end, he decided to try a different approach.
“If Asher was an innocent newlywed determined to clear his name and get home to his bride, why did he run?”
Kennedy beat me to the reply. “Agent Nelson, if you’ll review the court files, you’ll see that I made every effort to keep Asher away from negative influences during his stay at Atwater. For whatever reason, my requests were ignored. If you want to find Asher, I suggest you focus on finding his father. Asher didn’t have time to make prison contacts or orchestrate an escape. And his accounts have been frozen for weeks. William is the one with the resources to pull this off.”
“Believe me, Mrs. Montgomery, we’re looking into every angle. I agree that William was likely the mastermind behind the breakout. But the fact remains that Asher fled. Which means whatever’s going on, he’s in it up to his neck. I believe that neither of you know where he is. But I also believe Asher will make contact with you soon, if he hasn’t already. And I don’t trust you to be forthcoming with any information he gives you.”
“I have advised my client to share everything she knows with you. But think about it. If the system had failed you as badly as it’s failed L
auren, how cooperative would you feel?”
Agent Nelson raised an eyebrow and flipped through his notebook. “Your client? I have Parker Parish listed as Mrs. Reynolds’s attorney of record. You’re listed as counsel for Mr. Reynolds. Has something changed?”
“Yes,” she replied sharply. “You have proof that my clients were innocent of their original charges. The charges against Lauren were dropped last week. This morning, I filed a motion to have the charges against Asher dismissed. Representing both of them no longer presents a conflict of interest.”
“You’re right about the conflict,” he agreed, making a note on the page. “But you’re dreaming if you think the court will address a dismissal while your client is on the run.”
“You’re underestimating my power of persuasion,” she warned. “You watched the same footage I did. Yesterday, Cynthia accused Asher of reverting to type by running away with his father. Obviously, she was talking about his criminal history. But if you consider her words in a different context, I think she was on to something.”
“What are you talking about?” Nelson asked with a dismissive huff.
I sat up and leaned toward Kennedy, much more eager for her insight than the FBI agent seemed to be.
“Think about it,” she began, settling down on the foot of my bed. “If Asher wanted to run, he could have done it before he was sent back to Atwater. Sure, he was wearing an ankle monitor. But you and I both know that lesser minds than my client’s hack into those things every day. Asher and Lauren could have quietly slipped out of the country, never to be seen again. I wouldn’t have blamed them, considering the fact they were innocent. But they stayed to face the charges, because that’s who they are. That’s their type.”
Kennedy emphasized her last word and a horrific realization washed over me. I leaned back on the bed, my palms suddenly sweaty. Agent Nelson stared back at Kennedy, still completely confused.
“So? Asher stuck around because he thought he could beat the charges. Wealthy people always assume they’re invincible. We proved him wrong, so he ran.”
