It was Baylee who said, “You sound a lot like I did the first time Dylan mentioned he suspected Dad was hiding something about my mother. So believe me, I know exactly how you feel right about now.”
“But Nick’s story doesn’t make any sense.”
“We’re all aware of that. But neither does the fact that you and Ella lived a nomadic existence out in the Valley for the first years of your life. The money wasn’t trickling down to you two, not even enough to feed Ella’s habit. Why did the two of you fall off the radar for so long?”
Dylan came into the kitchen, sensed tension, and immediately tried to lighten the mood. “Who knew we’d all have to make junior grade detectives to figure all this stuff out? When you think about it, it’s like a minefield, twisting and turning with all kinds of obstacles to keep us from learning the truth.”
“An Alana and Jessica minefield,” Gloria repeated as she entered the fray. “How typical. But why aren’t you coming up with more in the financial records? I always thought following the money trail led to the truth.”
“We’re making progress,” Jake added. “But Jessica and Sumner were no dummies. As fast as the illegal money streamed in, it went through several offshore accounts so the IRS wouldn’t find it. Like Dylan said, it’s a maze we have to follow to get to where the most money is.”
Reese couldn’t get past one detail though. “My point is the ten grand a month wasn’t going to Quinn for at least seven or eight years, not until she got to Beverly Hills. The money was sent. I saw the bank records for the wire transfers.”
“Simple.” Kit shrugged. “Jessica and Alana.”
Then Baylee spoke up, “Look Quinn, I didn’t want to believe Dylan’s premise about what happened to my mother or Kit’s version of what she saw in that vision she had. But I eventually had to realize my father had lied to me—for years. If Jessica and Alana were involved in this in any way you can bet nothing about it was aboveboard. Just keep an open mind, okay?”
“That’s what I told her,” Reese said. “Those two women more than likely put the screws to Jennetti, too.”
Baylee watched Gloria putter around the kitchen, seemingly distracted and suddenly thought of something. “By any chance did you know Ella Canyon back then, Gloria?”
As Gloria took the casserole out of the oven, she sighed. “I knew you would eventually get around to asking me about that timeframe. Yes, I knew the entire family before that—through Alana. I knew both women were thick as thieves, into all kinds of little schemes. You have to remember I’d been shipped off to Maine to live, locked up myself after Kit and Ben were taken away from me. I didn’t get involved in Alana’s affairs again until Kit turned twelve. By that time, all I knew was Quinn’s mother had a major drug problem. I used to worry quite a bit about Quinn in that environment. That’s why I let you girls sleep over at my house so often, insisted on it really.”
With that, Gloria walked over and put her arms around Quinn. “But this one had such a good head on her shoulders, an old soul to be sure, wiser than most adults I’ve ever known. Once I realized Ella wasn’t much of an influence on her, I stopped worrying so much, even though to tell you the truth, that stepfather of hers gave me more than a few sleepless nights.”
Kit and Baylee exchanged another long stare.
And suddenly Reese realized something else. Quinn might not have unburdened her secret to her friends. But somehow Baylee and Kit knew or at least had suspected Ross had done more than slapped Quinn at fifteen to get her to move out.
“He wasn’t her stepfather, not officially,” Reese stated. “Jennetti and Ella were never married.”
Jake shook his head. “Where have I heard this before? Another set of layered lies.”
“They were very good at it,” Dylan added.
Reese turned then to gaze into Quinn’s dark, unsettling eyes. All his years of singlehood came crashing down around him. He couldn’t imagine sharing his life with any other woman. He wasn’t sure when it had happened. But damn it, he was in love with the prickly pear, Quinn Tyler.
CHAPTER 21 Book 3
Running out the back door of the house, Quinn didn’t bother with a jacket or an umbrella even though the rain beat down in sheets.
Her face hurt.
Ten-year-old Quinn could still feel the stinging slap of a heavy hand from her stepfather. Though it had happened a good two hours earlier, she still felt angry and upset and wanted out of the house so bad she could taste it.
Through bleary-eyed tears she made her way to the garage at the back of the house where she kept her bike. Even in the rain, she intended to get out of this house, get as far away as she could. She’d bike over to Baylee’s house, where Tanya would surely let her hang out in her kitchen for a few hours.
But as she got closer to the garage, angry voices stopped her.
She paused to listen before taking another step.
Quinn’s attention was riveted to the irate vocal outcry up ahead, not because of the miserable cursing words but because of who was doing the cursing. They hadn’t yet spotted her. First lucky thing that had happened to her all day, she thought, as she scurried behind a tree trunk before they heard the rustle of leaves beneath her feet.
She needn’t have bothered. The two adults were in a snit, which wasn’t that unusual. It had been Quinn’s experience that if adults weren’t irritated about something they’d find a reason to get there.
Cautiously, Quinn peered around her hiding place, her favorite ancient oak.
Alana Stevens stood no more than twenty feet away going toe to toe in an argument with Ross Jennetti, her stepfather.
“You keep your damned mouth shut. You’re here to do exactly what you’re told. Don’t try to get around me either because I’ll nail you to the cross. I don’t like people who underestimate me.”
“You just take care of your end of the deal and keep the money coming. You’re late with the money again and I’ll take it up with Jessica.”
“Don’t you threaten me, you miserable piece of shit. I’ll see you in jail first.”
At the mention of jail, Ross seemed to back down. “Okay, okay. Just calm down. Maybe I overreacted. After all, I know you’re good for the money. It’s just that I have obligations too, bills to pay, responsibilities.”
“Bullshit. You’re a goddamned snitch playing both sides. You know it and I know it. You cause me any more trouble and I’ll see to it that this sweet deal of yours comes to an end. You got that?”
Ross meekly nodded. “I got it. You know you’re really hot when you’re upset.”
“Don’t think you can get around me like that. I’m the one who got you this gig.” Alana pointed a finger at him then looked him up and down and started twirling her hair. “But I could use your dick right about now.”
With that, she watched Alana grab Ross’s shirt and pull him into her for a kiss. She pulled him in the direction of the house, making Quinn very glad she was on her way out the door even if the rain were coming down in sheets.
Getting soaking wet was infinitely better than staying anywhere near Ross and Alana.
Quinn woke slowly, her brain on overload. The dreams about childhood had always been tough to keep at bay but now it seemed all this time off was making her crazy. She scrubbed a hand down her face and looked over at Reese, still sleeping handily beside her. She lifted his arm, which draped around her waist like a vise grip, and got up out of bed.
Grabbing her borrowed robe, she crept down the hall and into Trevor’s room to check on him.
She was surprised to find him awake and the grimace on his face said he was in pain. Quinn glanced around the room. “Finally managed to run off Gloria, did you?”
“She went to bed about an hour ago. The woman needs to sleep. She gets to meet her son tomorrow.”
“Today,” Quinn corrected. Instincts had her touching her hand to his forehead. “You still have fever.” She picked up a pair of latex gloves, filled a syringe with penicillin. To g
et his mind off the injection, she started talking. “Gloria is so excited I doubt she closes her eyes for five minutes. Kit’s like that too, must run in the family.”
Trevor grunted. “What are you doing making rounds this time of night anyway? Shouldn’t you be cozied up to the barrister?”
She grinned. “Couldn’t sleep. How are you feeling? Any pain?”
“You’re quick to hand out the drugs.”
“I hate to see anyone in pain.” She got out another syringe for the painkiller, tilted her head. “Yes or no?”
“Yes. Thanks. The shoulder’s troubling me some.”
She plunged the needle into the morphine bottle, drew up the liquid into the barrel.
“I have a question though.”
“Yes, I have to give it to you in the butt. The muscle is much larger there than the arm for this dosage.”
He grinned and rolled over. “That wasn’t the question, although I often wondered why it was the case.”
She dabbed a cotton ball to his hip and stuck in the needle. “Now you know. What’s the question?”
“How long will I be unable to use the shoulder? Is it true I’ll be out of action for a week?”
“Ah. You could start PT in a week. There’s a difference.” When he just stared at her, she added, “Physical therapy. But since your insurance is—questionable.” She smiled and went on, “As soon as the pain subsides, we’ll start working on movement.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. There are enough people here that will make sure you can move that shoulder properly before you take off on your own. Now, it’s my turn.”
“A question? Sure. As long as it isn’t too personal.”
“Please. Do I look like I’d intrude into your personal life?” Her lips curved. “Hey, I’m not the one who went all CIA on your ass. Anyway, here’s the question. Do you really think none of us are capable of ending this thing with Cade and Collin, that we don’t have what it takes to…pull the trigger, so to speak?”
He slanted his head. “Depends on how bad you want it to end.”
“That isn’t fair. I don’t want Reese jeopardizing his career to break the law for me, or Dylan or Jake for that matter.”
“Then there’s your answer. But you’ll always be looking over your shoulder, wondering if and when Cade will strike.”
She sucked in a knowing breath. “Yeah, I will, and so will Kit and Baylee. Okay, here’s the deal. After Cade knocked me around, I bought a gun.”
Shock crossed his face. That was the last thing he expected her to say. “What kind?”
She laughed. “Is that a guy thing or what? A nifty little nine millimeter. I took a course in gun safety, too. I know how to shoot. I’m fairly accurate.”
“Are you now?” He wasn’t certain where she was going with this. “A gun-toting doctor, I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I learned because I didn’t want to give Cade the chance to ever hurt me again. I don’t want him hurting any of my friends, either. I don’t want him hurting Reese.”
“But he’ll try.”
“I know, and I’m telling you I’m prepared to pull the trigger if I have to. I made that decision when I bought the gun.”
He gazed into her eyes, saw the steely determination there. “I believe you. And the others don’t know, do they?”
“No. I went to the shooting range by myself. I’ve taken plenty of crap from that family since…for a long time, especially from Cade. I’m not letting him do this anymore, not to me, not to my friends or anyone I…care about.”
“And you’re willing to give up your promising career to make sure they stay safe.”
“My career’s in the early stages. Reese has practiced law for years. He’s established his practice. But yeah, that’s about the size of it. I don’t have a long lost brother that’s about to show up in about six hours for a big reunion. I don’t have a six-month-old baby to think about raising over the next eighteen years or so. Kit and Baylee have their futures…ahead of them.”
“And you don’t?”
“That isn’t the point. You asked the question. What are we willing to do for the people we love? I know what I’m willing to do, that’s all I’m saying.”
“What do you want from me?”
With that, she leaned over and told him.
Quinn sat with him until the morphine kicked in. Once he’d fallen asleep, she crept down to the kitchen like a thief and was surprised to see Reese already sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal.
“How’s the patient?”
“Asleep. Worried he won’t be able to use his shoulder any time soon.” She bit her lip, wondering if he’d overheard her conversation with Trevor. She hoped not. “What’re you doing up?”
“Today’s the big day. Ben Griffin makes his grand entrance in…” He glanced at his wrist watch. “Less than five hours from now the long lost brother shows up. The countdown started a couple of hours ago.”
“It’s all Kit and Gloria can do to contain their excitement. Trevor said Gloria finally went to bed about an hour ago.”
“Those two are giving off vibes.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
She gave out a genuine belly laugh. “I know. Just goes to show you, you’re never too old for the love bug to jump out and bite you in the ass.”
“That love bug is a sneaky little devil.” He reached for her hand, entwined her fingers with his. “I woke up in bed and you weren’t there. I heard you in with Trevor.” Their eyes locked. But after several seconds he merely said, “I knew you’d eventually head to the kitchen. You had another bad dream.”
She took down a box of Kix and a bowl from the cabinet, poured a generous portion of the cereal. “Alana and Ross were fuck buddies,” she announced.
He lifted a brow. “Really? You dreamed about Ross and Alana fu…?”
“No. Yes. I guess I’d forgotten, put it out of my mind. I mean who would want to have that image in their psyche for very long?” She replayed the dream for him.
“So, Alana claims to have been the one who got him the gig. I think it’s time I had a little talk with Gerald Baines, one on one. I felt he was holding something back this morning. I didn’t pursue it because I didn’t want him heading back to Ireland on the first plane. I wonder if Jessica knew Alana was taking a cut from Ross.”
“Probably not,” Quinn surmised. “Think about it, if these two women were used to double-crossing each other every time the wind changed direction, why was there never any retaliation on their part toward each other?”
“The Parker murders had to be the glue that kept them connected unless, of course, they were in love with each other.”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Alana had to hold the gun over Jessica’s head for blackmail material. She got miles out of that and it worked until they both got rid of Baylee’s mother and Luc Delaine.”
“Which meant another connection and more material for further blackmail on both sides. So they hold something over Ella Canyon to get her to raise a kid that wasn’t actually hers?”
“Stands to reason. But what?”
“Lisa Redfield.”
“Bingo. Whoever she is…?”
“Or was. She was a meal ticket.”
“She’s more than likely dead, isn’t she Reese? Whoever she was, wherever she came from, we have to find out.”
“We don’t know that for certain, Quinn, at least not yet.” He coaxed her into his lap. “Just so you know, when it comes to protecting you from Cade, I can pull the trigger.”
“You were listening.”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he explained, “There’s something primal in me I’m not even sure I knew was there before all this started. Whatever it is, wherever it came from, it wants to hurt Cade for hurting you.”
“But that’s just it. I don’t want you to feel like that, responsible. It happened a long time ago.”
“He wants you dead, Quinn. That isn’t ancient history but
a present-day fact. He fired a gun at us not twelve hours ago and wounded another man. He could have easily killed Rob, who happens to be married with two kids. That’s three times now he’s tried to kill you. I won’t let him win this thing.”
She patted his jaw before giving him a kiss. “On that we agree then.”
CHAPTER 22 Book 3
From the living room Kit heard the car make the turn into the driveway. She bolted out the front door with Jake on her heels. But when she reached the front porch, she stopped so suddenly that Jake rammed into the back of her as she stood still as a statue.
Kit watched in amazement as John Griffin, all six feet of him, unwound himself from the backseat of the white limo parked in the circular driveway. On instinct, she reached behind her for Jake’s hand to steady herself before her knees buckled and she tumbled down the steps of the porch.
From the side of the luxury sedan, sixty-seven-year-old, John Griffin eyed the daughter he had abandoned some ten years earlier when she was fourteen.
A younger man stood behind him and gave him a little shove in the back to get his feet to move forward.
Jake felt Kit’s death grip on his hand and couldn’t blame her. He eyed John Griffin with open disdain. For ten years, this man had led her to believe he’d died on location shooting a film in Spain.
Hell, he had even confirmed that fact to her simply because a database had given him the wrong information, which he’d repeated. It was all Jake could do to keep from running toward the elder man and taking aim at his chin.
John Griffin finally began to close the distance. When he got to the bottom steps he stopped and looked up. With a slight twinge of a brogue, he said, “Hello, Angel. I guess you’ll be wanting an explanation right about now.”
Kit simply stood rooted to the wooden planks of the porch and stared at the man who had fathered her, the jubilation at meeting her twin brother a dwindling priority.
Instead, she suddenly let go of Jake’s hand and turned on her heels to go back inside the house. “Jake, would you please tell Mr. Griffin and his son to come inside? After their long trip, I’ll be serving coffee and sandwiches in the living room.”
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