"But, Mom, they're bitter enemies now. It was Rule Shaker who blew up Louey, when Ramsey, Emma, and I were the actual targets. It was Rule Shaker who murdered a fanner in Colorado. He's tried twice to kill Father."
"These things happen, Molly. Just a moment." Molly heard her mother switch to her musical Italian.
"What, Maria? Oh yes, just put my tea on the table. That's fine. Do go to bed." Her mother returned, switching back to English. "Yes, dear? What were we speaking about?"
The good Lord give me patience, Molly thought, looking upward. "We were talking about the fact that my father and Rule Shaker are trying to kill each other. Why didn't I ever know about this? Why don't the police know about this? What happened between them?"
"I don't know about the police, dear. Surely they know. The split was no secret. As for you, why would you have ever known? The split happened when you were a little girl. Just before I left your father, actually. It was only a year later that Rule's wife left him."
"Do you know, what happened?"
"Yes, dear. I don't suppose it matters now. You're all grown up with a daughter of your own. Rule Shaker wanted me to sleep with him, but you see, I was in love with your father. Too, I didn't really care for him. Rule looked like a gangster, if you know what I mean, the kind of gangster Hollywood put on the screen if they wanted no sympathy for the character, the kind who smokes. Your father never did look like anything but an aristocrat. He still does, in the photos I've seen of him over the years."
"But what happened?"
"Your father walked in on us. Rule Shaker was trying to force me, actually, and in a very crude way.
Being a man, your father blamed me as well as his friend. It was the end of our marriage and the end of their friendship and business dealings. It was a very difficult time."
"I remember we went to Italy," Molly said slowly. "That was just after this had happened?"
"That's right. But it's a long time in the past, twenty years. Now, Molly, let me speak to Emma. I would like all of you to come to Italy for Thanksgiving. No worry about giving anyone a gift they won't like, just a very good meal. Our cook here, Magdalana, is just excellent. She'd never cooked a turkey in her life until she came to me. Will you come?"
"I'll have to get back to you on that, Mom."
"Oh, yes, I did see a photo of your father in Time magazine, with his wife. It appears he's going to live, yet again. Well, I suppose that's good. After all, he did remove the threat from Emma."
"He had Dickerson murdered, Mother," Molly said, then realized she was a damned hypocrite and said quickly, "Although I wanted to kill him myself. You're right. No matter what else Father is, he did save Emma from a horrible experience in the courtroom, at the very least."
"Well, he still should be careful, don't you think?"
"Naturally," Molly said. "I don't think Rule Shaker is the kind of man to give up. I'm sure Father knows him well enough to realize that as well."
"Oh yes, he'll think he's being careful, but it isn't Rule I'm talking about. I just hope your father knows what he's doing."
"Doing about what?"
"Well, dear, it's his wife. I hadn't realized whom he'd married. In fact, it seems incredible to me that he would marry her, but evidently he didn't see any harm. Men are strange, don't you think? They think with their penises. That's what my mother always told me."
Molly shook her head. "I don't understand, Mom. What's strange about Eve? Admittedly she's younger than I am, but many older men have trophy wives, and yeah, I'd probably agree that most men do think with their dicks."
"Molly, dear, that's such a crude word. Now, that isn't what I meant. There was so much bad blood between your father and Rule Shaker and it just kept getting worse. They went after the same deals.
Sometimes one would win, sometimes the other, but the rivalry has just gotten stronger over the years.
That's why this is such a surprise."
"What's such a surprise?" Molly rolled her eyes toward Ramsey, who raised a black eyebrow.
"Your father's wife, dear. Eve. There was an excellent photo of her in Time magazine, just after your father was shot that first time. Didn't you know, dear? She's Rule Shaker's eldest daughter."
34
MOLLY WALKED INTO her father's magnificent study and quietly closed the huge double doors behind her.
Her father rose slowly from his desk, raised an eyebrow, and said, "What is it, Molly? I wasn't expecting you. Is everything all right?"
He was dressed immaculately. Very few people who knew him would realize that he was thinner, that the flesh on his face was drawn more tautly, that his color wasn't exactly right, that, actually, he should still be in bed recovering from a gunshot wound to his chest. She smiled at him. "Oh, yes, we're all just fine.
You're looking well. Miles said you've been up three hours today. He's worried, you know. He thinks you're overdoing it too quickly. He also said you ate a big piece of chocolate cake last night."
"Yes. There was some of Miles's homemade vanilla ice cream on top. I was growing mold in that bed.
I'm fine. Where is Ramsey?"
"Both Ramsey and Emma are with Miles. I do believe Gunther is hovering, eating some of Miles's chocolate-chip cookies himself." She paused a moment, smiled at him, and said, "Actually, I wanted to see you by myself."
"What's this all about? Why are you here?"
The slant of his eyebrows, she thought, was identical to her own. She wondered that she'd never noticed that before. She'd have to ask Ramsey if he saw the similarity. "As a matter of fact," she said, "I'm here to do you a very big favor." He frowned at that, just as she'd expected, since it was something he couldn't imagine. He waved her to a huge leather chair. "It's my favorite chair," he said, "but right now I can't sit in it. It's too difficult to get back out of it."
"Sort of like a pregnant woman."
"I doubt it. Now, what is this favor, Molly?" When she didn't answer immediately, he glanced at a paper he'd been reading, ignoring her. She'd seen him do this before. It really rattled a person wanting his attention. Odd how she saw and understood it, and was only tempted to tell him that he was a fine actor.
She let him scan a full page, then said finally, "Mother told me all about you and Rule Shaker, that you were best friends for so many years, your two families close. She told me how you blamed her as well as Rule Shaker when you came in on them."
His head came up with a snap. "I'll just bet she told you how innocent she was, that Rule was trying to rape her."
"Yes, that's what she said. She said she didn't really like him, that he was crude, that she loved you, but of course, you blamed her as well as him. You threw her out. You kept my brother and I went with her to Italy."
He shrugged and winced a bit with pain. "It was a very long time ago. I can't imagine why she chose to tell you now. As for Rule Shaker, I've dealt with him over the years without much problem. Perhaps not as well as I'd like recently," he added, frowning down at a letter opener that looked as sharp as a stiletto.
He looked up at her. "Actually, he's taken more business than I'd have liked over the past couple of years, but it's a temporary thing. He's become a thug, nothing more. He's always been jealous of me and what's mine. He had bad teeth when we were young. I'll bet he's got false teeth by now." He paused a moment, a frown settling on his forehead, looking beyond her, into the past, perhaps.
"I accepted him, made him my friend," he continued after a moment. "I can't believe I didn't see him clearly until I happened to walk in on him and your mother.
"He's tried to kill me, twice. I'm going to have to deal with him once and for all. I don't like having to constantly look over my shoulder. Gunther worries. He isn't happy about any of this either."
"Rule Shaker didn't try to kill you."
Her father looked at her with amazed contempt. "What did you say?"
"No," she said, very slowly, as if she were speaking to a dim child. "He didn't ever try to kill you.<
br />
Actually, it was your wife."
Her father bounded to his feet, his face paling, then weaved where he stood. She saw waves of pain washing over him, started to go to him, then stopped, realizing that he hated anyone, particularly her, to see any weakness in him. He chopped his hand in the air, waving her back. "Eve? You're saying that Eve tried to kill me? You're trying to blame Eve? That's absurd, Molly, absolutely absurd." Then he turned to dial his private telephone. "We'll see about this. Where the hell do you get off accusing Eve of anything?
You're just jealous of her, aren't you, Molly? You can't stand her because she's everything you're not, you're-"
"She blew Louey up as well."
He slowly straightened and looked at her. He slowly laid down the receiver. He was shaking his head as he said, "No, it was Rule. He wanted you and Emma and Ramsey dead in order to bring Louey into line.
That silly little bitch daughter of Rule's wanted the jerk. No, Rule blew Louey up by mistake. Because his intention was to kill you and Emma, I had to retaliate. He would have taken my daughter so I took his.
Now, enough of your venom, Molly. I won't have any more of this. I'm getting Eve in here."
"She's not here. She left"- Molly looked down at her watch-"probably about ten minutes ago. She's not coming back and you're not going after her."
She would swear she saw a fine tremor in his right hand. But his voice was calm with authority as he asked in that barely tolerant cold voice of his, "What is this all about, Molly?"
Slowly, Molly rose from the leather chair. She walked to her father's desk and splayed her palms on the rich mahogany surface. "Listen to me, Dad. Eve is Rule Shaker's daughter. After her mother's death, Eve continued her schooling in Europe, then went to school at Harvard. She didn't go back to live with her father and younger sister, which is why you never heard of her. Your wife has a master's degree in business, Dad. Her forte is financial analysis. She and Rule Shaker planned to take you for as much as they could. You just admitted that you'd lost more to him in the past couple of years than you'd wanted to lose. It wasn't just coincidental. Eve was feeding him business information."
She realized the instant he believed her. She saw his eyes go cold, saw the deep shifting of his eyes as images developed, changed, evolved in his mind. She said very quietly, "You're not going to kill Eve. It's over, all of it. No one will try to kill you and you won't try to kill Shaker."
His face was flushed, he was shaking his head. "No, it's impossible. I knew Eve. Do you think I'm stupid? I had her checked out completely before I married her. She's Swedish, from a little town north of Stockholm called Uppsala. I know all about her family. Her father's an engineer- he let her keep one of his diplomas. It's in our bedroom. Her mother is a schoolteacher. She teaches French, for God's sake.
She has two younger sisters. I know everything about her. She's fluent in English because of an English nanny she had all during her childhood. I know she never went to college, that she-"
"Her name is Janice Claire Shaker. The last time you saw her, she was all of four years old, just a very little girl. You probably have no memory of her at all. When Rule Shaker and his wife divorced, Janice went with her mother to Boston and Rule Shaker kept Melissa, who was just two years old at the time.
They split their kids just the way you did with me and Teddy.
"Janice married a Swedish engineer when she was only eighteen, her freshman year in college. Her husband was killed on a dam project a year later. She obviously got all her Swedish antecedents from her husband's family, including her husband's engineering degree that's hanging on your wall. In any case, somewhere along the line, Janice or her father came up with the idea to take you in. And they did take you in. Fooled you completely.
"She admitted to me that she murdered Louey. She hated him, didn't want her sister to be with him. She smuggled in the bomb that blew him up. Emma and I weren't the targets. And then when you killed Melissa, her sister, she tried to murder you. Maybe Eve would have tried to murder you eventually regardless of what happened. She didn't volunteer her plans. I don't know and neither will you. It doesn't matter. All of it's going to stop right now."
She watched him straighten, knew that the effect must be hurting his chest. Then he was utterly still, even his hands silent at his sides. He said, his voice as gentle as a soft spring rain, "If what you say is true, if she did betray me, then how could it possibly be over?"
She would have preferred rage, not this calm dead coldness. She didn't know where she found it, but she reached down deep inside her and brought up a very big smile. "Because, Dad, I've saved your life and now I'm going to end it all. No one is going to kill anyone. You try to harm Eve or Rule Shaker and I'm going to turn you in. It's true that I don't have much hard proof, but I know enough to make things excessively uncomfortable for you. If you refuse to end it, I also promise you will never see Emma or me again. I will not take the chance of Emma getting between you and Shaker.
"There will be no more attempts on your life or anyone connected with you, including me and Emma. Eve and her father have agreed to it. You took one of his daughters and you're giving the other one back.
Louey is dead and you were nearly killed twice. They both know I could bring them down, because, you see, I taped my conversation with Eve and played it for them. One copy is with Dillon Savich of the FBI and the other is with the San Francisco District Attorney's office. I've got it all and I'll keep it safe. It's over. Believe me on this."
He slowly raised his hand. In an instant, Molly thought he was going to strike her. She stood her ground, waiting.
Slowly, Mason Lord lowered his arm. His voice was nearly a whisper as he said, "You're my daughter and you're threatening me with this?"
"Yes, I am. It's my only way to protect both Emma and you. I don't ever want to have to worry that Emma could be the next victim in your war with Rule Shaker. What's more, I don't want him or his daughter to kill you. Now, I want your word that you'll leave the Shakers alone."
Mason stared at the daughter who looked so much like her grandmother, who hadn't wanted Alicia to marry him, who'd looked at him like he was some sort of back alley scum. She'd looked at him and known what he was to his very soul. He'd seen the knowledge in those gray-green eyes of hers-Molly's eyes-and he'd hated her with everything in him. Now here was Molly, more her blood than she was his, telling him what to do. What was wrong with him? She was just a woman, nothing more.
He wanted to straighten her out but good, but instead, what came out of his mouth was, "I eliminated the scum who hurt Emma."
His voice was defensive, with maybe even a hint of a whine. It amazed her and heartened her. "Yes, I know. That's why I haven't already called the cops. Do you know something, Dad? I don't think you're all bad. You tried to protect family. That's something in your favor. A very big something. Do you agree, Dad? It stops here and now?"
Mason Lord looked down at his long white fingers. The flesh looked loose on the back of his hands.
Slowly, he raised his head. Molly was standing quietly in front of him, her wild red hair pulled back and fastened with a gold clip against her nape.
Her ears, he thought, her ears were Alicia's. He'd always thought Alicia had beautiful ears. He heard her say again, her voice calm and low, "Do you agree, Dad?"
The phone rang sharp and loud beside his left hand.
"Answer it," Molly said, looking at her watch. "It's Rule Shaker, right on time. End it, Dad."
Maybe it was time to end it all. She had guts, his guts, to come in here and face him down.
Well, what the hell. He picked up the phone and said to a man he hadn't spoken to in twenty years,
"Rule. It's Mason Lord."
Epilogue
"IT'S A BOY," Ramsey called out. Both Molly and Emma came running into his study from the kitchen.
He pressed the speaker button and put the phone down.
"Congratulations!" Molly and Emma shouted in unison. Emma'
s Dalmatian, six-month-old Kenny, barked madly, and jumped against Ramsey's leg. "When? How long? What's his name?"
Sherlock laughed, raucous and full-bodied, loud on the speaker. "His name is Sean Franklin Savich and he wailed his lungs out as he slid into Dillon's hands. He's big and healthy and everything's just great.
Dillon came through like a champ, kept me up and walking around until I finally told him I'd punch his lights out if he didn't let me lie down and yell at him."
Emma wanted to know when they'd bring Sean out so she could play with him. Soon, Sherlock told her, very soon.
When Ramsey hung up the phone, he sat down in his dark brown leather chair and pulled Molly onto his lap. Then he brought Emma down on Molly's lap, wrapping his arms around both of them. It was a routine all of them were used to. He looked at the wall across from his chair. There were three neoimpressionist paintings hanging there, selected by him and Molly together over the past several months.
"I got a request from my law clerks and my secretary today, all three of them, that they want to see Emma," he said, kissing Molly's ear. "It's been at least a month, they said. They said I was being selfish with her. So, guys, would you like to come down to my office? Emma, you've got a holiday Monday so you won't miss any school. What do you say?"
"Will Mrs. Burger have some of her lemon bars?" Emma asked.
Ramsey laughed. "Greed always wins out. I'll ask her."
"If the answer's yes, then count us in," Molly said, and kissed Emma's ear.
When Emma jumped down to go play with Kenny in the backyard, Ramsey said to Molly, "I got a call from Lieutenant O'Connor from the Oak Park police. They found the man they believe shot your father in a dump site, somewhere in southern Ohio. He'd been dead quite a while, about six months. Rule Shaker didn't want any loose ends."
"Exactly. Eve must have told her father about the saliva the cops found and could do a DNA match on if they came up with a suspect. His spitting cost him his life."
"Yeah. Probably no big loss. That's over. No doubt it's a relief for your dad." He nuzzled her neck, fiddled with the small gold hoop in her left ear, and said, "Have you decided yet, Molly? Are we going to Italy or to Chicago for Thanksgiving? You'd best make up your mind; it's only a few days away and I imagine that there aren't many airline tickets left."
The Target f-3 Page 33
