by Diana Palmer
Her eyes were soft and searching. She knew he was holding back something. Something very personal.
“Why?” she asked suddenly.
“Why, what?”
She grimaced. “I wasn’t blind, you know. Sari might as well have been wearing a sign. They said you were married and had a child. But that’s not you, Paul,” she added with keen insight that left him shivering inside. “You’re much too honorable to behave like that.”
“Smart girl,” he replied.
“Morris said it was the money,” she returned quietly.
“The money?” he asked, surprised.
“Yes. Sari and I are worth millions and you work for wages. So you left.”
“Damn!” he bit off.
“I won’t tell her,” Merrie said softly. She shook her head. “They’ll confiscate everything Daddy had. Sari and I will be left with the house and what’s in it, but that’s not worth millions. Not exactly.”
“You see deep, don’t you, kid?” he asked quietly.
“I’m an artist,” she said simply. “I have to see deep or I can’t paint.” She smiled sadly. “She cried for days when you left. Please don’t hurt her like that again.”
“I never wanted to hurt her,” he interrupted. “But I couldn’t stay. I had another life, before this one. Bad things happened to the people I loved.” He grimaced, looking into the room where Sari was still buried in her pillow, out of earshot. “I didn’t want to go through it again. I got cold feet and I ran.” He looked down at her with a whimsical smile. “It’s been a long three years. Sometimes when we do the right thing, it all goes wrong.”
She put a hand on his arm. “Sometimes people get second chances, too.” She turned and went downstairs.
Paul went into the bedroom and sat down beside Sari, smoothing a big hand over her soft, disheveled red-gold hair.
“Don’t do that,” he coaxed. “I can’t stand to watch you cry.”
“You never could,” she recalled, wiping at her tears.
“It makes guys feel helpless. We hate that. Come on, now, Merrie’s gone to make tea for you.”
She dragged herself into a sitting position. She was wearing a yellow nightgown with lacy panels. Under the bodice, her beautiful, firm little breasts were artfully displayed. He looked at them and remembered, and hurt all the way to his soul.
She realized how she must look. She grimaced and pulled up the covers. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“I didn’t mean to stare. It’s hard to turn away from something so beautiful and pretend it doesn’t affect me,” he added with a warm, tender smile. “You really are gorgeous. I’d give anything to…” He caught himself. “Sorry.”
She drew in a shaky breath. She was vulnerable and he was married and had a child, even if he and his wife were separated. She had to remember that. “No problem. It’s been a hard night.”
“You didn’t kill your father,” he said firmly. “Get that through your head. The medical examiner and the coroner will find out what did. But I guarantee it wasn’t you.”
“Maybe if I hadn’t gone to the sheriff, if I hadn’t told what I knew about the night Betty Leeds died…!”
“Isabel,” he interrupted gently, “you’re an officer of the court. You did what the job required. Personal privilege isn’t an option when murder is involved. You did what you had to. Period.”
Her wide blue eyes sought his, sought comfort. “Did I?”
“Yes.” He smoothed the hair back from her wet cheek. “You have the most beautiful skin,” he said involuntarily.
“I have freckles,” she muttered.
“What’s wrong with freckles? I think they suit you.” He smiled tenderly.
She bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. She’d loved him insanely three years ago. It was hard not to fall back into those emotions. She remembered so many times in the past that Paul had been the only comfort she had. It wasn’t quite the same with Merrie and Mandy.
“You always knew what to say, to calm me down,” she recalled.
“I cared about you. A lot.” He averted his eyes. “God, I’m so sorry for what happened! I was only thinking of myself. I never even suspected what consequences would follow that decision.”
“You didn’t want to get involved with me,” Sari replied quietly. “I understood it, when I finally knew the truth about you. It even made sense. You were too honorable to get involved with someone when you were married. I just didn’t know…”
He groaned, scooping her up against him, burying his face in her throat, his heart beating hard as he felt the softness of her breasts against his chest, smelled the familiar floral fragrance that was so much a part of her. “Do you think I wanted to go?” he ground out. “Dear God!”
She didn’t know what to say, what to think. He sounded absolutely grief stricken.
She let her cheek go against his shoulder and she closed her eyes while he rocked her in his arms. It was like old times. Paul kissing the hurt places.
Merrie came to the door with a cup of tea in a saucer and froze in place.
“It’s okay,” Sari said, pulling away from Paul. “He was kissing the bruises,” she added on a laugh.
Paul drew in a steadying breath and got to his feet. “So many bruises,” he replied, glancing at her with a pained expression.
“I’m all better now. Thanks,” Sari added, but she didn’t quite meet his eyes. She had to steel herself to take the tea from Merrie, so that nobody noticed her hands shaking.
“The bodyguards said that you were in Brooklyn,” Merrie said, glancing at him.
“Yes. I followed a lead to a bar in Manhattan,” he replied. “Cash Grier had a friend there who helped me track down Leeds’s contract. I called in a couple of markers and I’ve got some friends of my own checking out modus operandi.”
“Ooh, Latin,” Merrie exclaimed with twinkling eyes. “Method of operation!” She glanced at her sister. “I know big words like that in Latin. I should have gone to law school, too.”
“You’d never make a lawyer, sweetie.” Sari chuckled. “The perp’s mother or sister would come in and cry all over you and you’d go find a public defender to get him off.”
“She’s right,” Paul mused, grinning at the younger woman.
Merrie sighed. “I suppose one lawyer in the family is all that’s needed.” She sobered. “Somebody shot at Sari. They chased the guy, but they didn’t catch him.”
“Leeds went to New York yesterday,” Paul said. “Nobody gets a contract killer on the job that quickly.”
Sari looked up over the rim of the teacup she was sipping from. She drew back. “What are you saying?”
“That somebody here has been bought off.”
Her lips fell open. “No. No, not the bodyguards,” she said at once. “I don’t know them well, but Eb Scott does.”
Paul held up a hand. “I checked them out. No way was I trusting your safety to men I didn’t know,” he added firmly when she glared at him.
“It could have been one of Daddy’s so-called bodyguards,” Merrie added coldly. “I know that one of them was in trouble with the law. He actually got arrested on the campus of our local community college, where I had that art class last semester, remember?” she asked her sister, who nodded. “One of the campus security guards had been with the police department just briefly, but he recognized the man from a wanted poster that the chief had.”
“Daddy was furious,” Sari recalled, swallowing. “He bailed his employee out personally and made threats against the security guard.”
“He had to know the guy was dirty,” Paul began.
“He did. But it was a man he used for dirty jobs,” Sari said. “Daddy really couldn’t do without him.”
“We’ll che
ck out everybody on the place,” Paul said. “I know a couple of the guys who still do security here, but there are new ones that I don’t know.”
“If we had any money, we could hire a private investigator to do background checks on them,” Merrie said wistfully.
“I know,” Sari added miserably.
They both looked up at Paul’s astonished expression.
“Daddy didn’t want to risk having us leave, so he kept us poor,” Sari told him. “We only got enough pocket money to pay for lunch at school and a meal at Barbara’s Cafe once in a blue moon. We don’t even have bank accounts.”
“My God,” Paul said. “I didn’t know.”
“You’ll also notice that we never wore designer clothes,” Merrie said. “He didn’t want us selling the clothes off our backs to get pocket money. We were kept poor, and threatened about talking to anyone about what life was like inside this house.”
“He was very thorough,” Sari added. She glanced at Merrie and her eyes softened. “That nice man Merrie tried to date went all the way to Arizona to get a job. He was afraid Daddy would have him followed or maybe killed.” She shivered. “Poor Merrie only wanted to go out on one real date.”
“Daddy didn’t want us even talking to men,” Merrie said softly. “That was another escape route he was determined to keep closed. You see, he was going to pick men for us. Rich men, who could add to his fortune. He was going to sell us to Middle Eastern princes who were filthy rich.”
“What a piece of work,” Paul exclaimed harshly.
“But he can’t ever try to do it again. No more threats. No more beatings. No more fear.” Sari’s eyes moistened again. “I’m so ashamed. I can’t even be sorry that he’s dead. Although I am very sorry that I helped kill him.”
“Isabel, I told you, you had nothing to do with it,” Paul said gently. “Nothing at all. He made his choices and they led to terrible endings. And now you have your own life to live.”
“Assuming we can keep me alive long enough to enjoy it,” Sari said with faint irony.
“Nobody’s killing you on my watch,” Paul assured her. “Eb Scott’s got a guy coming over with drones and infrared gear. Nothing’s going to happen around here without our knowledge for the immediate future.”
“I feel like we’re in the military,” Merrie sighed.
“Don’t knock it. We’ll wrap you both up tight and wait for the man Leeds hired to make his move. When he does, we’ll nab him.”
“I like that part,” Merrie said, smiling.
“Me, too, honey,” Paul agreed. He checked his watch. “I have to get back to my apartment. I’ve got a task force meeting early tomorrow. Keep the doors locked, the windows shut and your bodyguards within screaming distance,” he added.
“We will,” Merrie said.
“Thanks, Paul,” Sari said. She smiled, but she still couldn’t quite meet his eyes. She felt guilty for the way she felt when he held her. Nothing had changed. She was as vulnerable as she’d ever been.
“You’re welcome. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on things,” he told them. “Try to get some sleep.”
“Easier said than done,” Sari confided.
“I know,” he replied. “I’ve had bad nights, too. See you tomorrow.”
He went out and closed the door.
“Are you going to be all right?” Merrie asked her sister.
Sari nodded. “Thanks for the tea. Are you staying?”
“You’re my sister. Of course I’m staying,” Merrie teased. “Now try to sleep.”
Sari put the cup and saucer on the bedside table and got back under the covers. “I guess I can try.”
Merrie smoothed her hair. “It’s all over, Sari,” she said with faint wonder. “We’re free. We’re finally free.”
“Free,” Sari seconded. She was asleep almost before she got the word out.
THIRTEEN
Timothy Leeds had been traced to a funeral home in Brooklyn, where he arranged the final services for his mother. He wasn’t really surprised when two federal agents came and sat down beside him in the funeral home chapel office, where he was waiting for the director to come and talk to him.
“It’s about that bar, isn’t it?” he asked solemnly, seeming both guilt-ridden and resigned.
“Bar?” one of the Feds asked.
“The one where I hired the hit man. Contract killer. Whatever.” He waved it away. “I figured you guys would be onto me pretty soon. I mean, I told everybody I was going to get even with Grayling. He killed my mother,” he added, fighting tears. “She was all I had in the world. She took care of me. Now I’m all alone, because of him!”
“We know that. We’re very sorry.”
The other agent produced a paper. “We’re sorry about this, too, Mr. Leeds. You’re under arrest for conspiring to commit murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney and have him present while you are being questioned. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to represent you before any questioning if you wish. You can decide at any time to exercise these rights and not answer any questions or make any statements. Do you understand each of these rights I’ve explained to you?” he added, quoting the Miranda Law.
“Yes,” Leeds said solemnly.
“Do you wish to give up the right to remain silent?”
Leeds just shrugged. “What does it matter now?” he asked miserably. “My mama’s gone. I got nobody else in the world. Yes, I hired a contract killer.” He frowned. “Maybe I hired two. I can’t remember. I’ve been so drunk ever since she died.” He turned his head. “You guys ever lose anybody close like that?”
“Lost my dad,” the first agent said.
“Lost my wife,” the second one replied.
Leeds sighed. “Then you know how it is, right? Well, I guess you didn’t hire someone to kill people. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to. I was just so angry!” he added, reddening. “That Grayling man! All he ever thought about was money, money, money! Mama said he had millions that he inherited from his wife. He even cheated his daughters out of it. But it wasn’t enough. So he started laundering money for people in organized crime. He talked Mama into helping him. God knows why she loved him. But she loved me more. When one of his cohorts threatened to do something to me, she got scared and went to a man she knew at the Department of Justice.”
“We heard about that,” the first agent said.
Leeds nodded. “She told him what Grayling was doing. He found out what she said. He had all these security guys who planted bugs and video cameras. Anyway, she said he was coming over to her place. There was a storm. She was always scared of storms…” He stopped and choked up again. He wiped his eyes. “So I get a visit from the police in San Antonio, where I live, and they say my mama’s dead and her horses killed her. Bull! They found her in the corral with two stallions! No horseman in the world would believe that she went out in a thunderstorm to work with two stallions at once in a corral!”
“Do you know where the video cameras were placed?” the first agent asked.
“Yes. Most of them. Actually, Mama had a guy come out to add a couple more. Grayling didn’t know about them. Nobody did.”
“Can you tell us where they are?”
“Sure.” He outlined the locations and one of the agents pulled up a Google Earth map of his mother’s house, so that they could identify the placement of the units. Leeds also told them the location of the bugs Grayling had placed in the house, and a secret file his mother had kept on her dealings with Grayling, hidden in a drawer of her desk with a fake bottom. “If you can’t find those things, I can go out there with you and show you exactly where they are. But first I got to bury my mama,” he added. He teared up. “You won’
t lock me up before the funeral, will you?” he added, his face so tormented that one of the agents winced.
“Listen, we have to take you in,” the first one said gently. “But we’ll make sure you get to go to the funeral. We won’t have the marshals take you to San Antonio until after the burial.”
“You promise?” he asked.
“We promise.”
“Okay.”
“If you cooperate, you might be able to plea-bargain for a lesser sentence,” the first agent said. “Do you have an attorney?”
“Yes, in San Antonio. He was Mama’s lawyer.” He sniffed. “I’ll call him. I get a phone call, right?”
“Right. Now, you said Grayling had the phones bugged. Do you know where the recording equipment was?”
“Yes. It was in her filing cabinet, in her study at the house. But he probably found it already and got rid of it,” he said miserably. His face hardened. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have tried to have his daughters killed. I should have sent the guy after him instead!”
The agents didn’t say anything.
He wiped angrily at a tear that escaped his eye. “I just wanted him to hurt like I was hurting. I figured his daughters were precious to him, the way he had them watched all the time. So I thought, if I killed his kids—or had them killed—he’d suffer. He’d really suffer!”
The Feds exchanged solemn glances.
Leeds wiped angrily at his eyes. “I found somebody in San Antonio with contacts. He made a few phone calls and I gave him some money. He said he knew a guy who could do it. But I wanted to be sure it was done right, so I asked him about a professional for the other girl. He said he knew somebody in New York. I was going to Brooklyn to bury my mother, so he gave me a place to find the guy. A bar. Guy named Viejo ran it.”
“We know about that,” the first agent said impatiently. “It’s the second bar. What was the name of the second bar?”
“If I knew, I’d tell you,” he said heavily. “I don’t have anything left, not with my mama dead.” He looked up at them. “I’m really sorry. Do you think you can stop them in time?”
