“There’s nothing to tell,” he said. “Pope’s dead. I’ve got your money. We’ve got a deal to settle.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. Have a drink with us.”
“I don’t want a drink, Mr. Carson. I want you out of my fucking life. Forever.”
Carson’s eyes narrowed. Regi had stepped over a line, a line that would force Carson to show those in the room who was in charge. And without Pope around to do his dirty work, Regi was interested to see how he planned on doing it.
“You’ve got a lot of gall coming into my home and saying that.”
Regi unzipped his pack and upended it, spilling bundles and bundles of money onto the plush carpet. “Here. Five hundred thousand dollars. That’s how much you said I owed you.”
Carson blinked at the stash. A murmur rumbled around the room.
“For the damage to the Stingray. And so I could walk away. That’s the deal we had, right?” Regi clenched his jaw.
“Yes. That was the deal. Before you… how shall I say it… lost Pope. My best man. So that deal’s no longer on the table. You’re mine, Reginald Tate. No amount of money can release you.” Carson had a way of making a threat real. Calm, calculating. Like wielding an axe loaded with menace.
“Yours? What d’ya mean I’m yours? I’m nothing like Pope. I can’t go around beating people up, just ’cause you ask.”
“Pope told me you’re fast on your feet.”
“That’s because when he’s around, I’m running for my life.”
Carson sipped his drink, then chuckled. “You’ll learn.”
Regi kicked the bag, then picked up a wad of cash and threw it at Carson.
Carson ducked, but he didn’t need to, because the money separated and fluttered to the floor. Once it settled, Carson pegged his glass at Regi. Regi could’ve ducked, but he’d learned that lesson years ago. The glass hit him square in the chin, showering him in ice and liquor. He howled at the sting to his split lip and the pain to his already thumping bruises.
There were as many gasps around the room as there were sniggers.
Regi glared at Carson with a hatred so deep it burned.
Carson laughed. Laughed and laughed. Then they all started laughing. Regi turned and ran, sprinting down the long corridor, out the enormous front doors, down the broad road with the fancy trees, and out the panel in the gate.
The whole time he was running he expected to be tackled to the ground.
But he wasn’t.
Carson let him go.
But only because Carson could get him any time he wanted.
Chapter Twenty-eight
After they’d come down from the mountain, and survived the media frenzy and endless police interviews, Holly and Oliver had parted ways. While he returned to Brambleton, back to his work and worried family, Holly had stayed in Seattle.
She had business to attend to. And she was determined not to return to Brambleton, or Oliver, until she was done. But after just seven days, she couldn’t wait to get out of the place she’d once called home.
While the taxi ambled along in the bumper-to-bumper traffic, Holly looked out over the bay. The scene was picturesque, but it was no longer the thing of beauty that she’d once considered it. Holly reached for the gold locket in her purse, opened it again, and stared at the photos of Angel and Fred inside. Not that she needed to; their smiling faces would be permanently implanted in her mind.
Her heart was pounding out a frantic beat by the time the taxi pulled into the curb outside the four-story apartment complex. She paid the driver and stepped into the uncertain Seattle weather. It seemed that one minute the sun was blazing and the next minute black clouds plastered over it, threatening rain. When she’d lived here all those years ago, she hadn’t really noticed its volatile weather patterns, but it’d certainly put on a show in the last few days. The weather perfectly matched how she was feeling, and as she walked up the uneven brick path, her nerves swung from dread to excitement.
No matter what happened, she was about to change an old woman’s life.
Holly climbed the short stack of steps and walked along the narrow, wrought iron-lined balcony. She stopped outside the door with a large number seven screwed into a middle panel.
When she couldn’t procrastinate a moment more, she reached up and knocked.
Several heartbeats later, the door opened a couple of inches, until a chain stopped its progress. “Hello.” The woman’s quivering voice matched her age.
“Hello, Mrs. Pearce, my name is Holly Parmenter. I rang you yesterday about—”
“Yes, yes, just a moment.” The door shut, and after a metallic shuffling sound it reopened again. Dorothy was short, and her dependence on a walking stick had her leaning over, reducing her height even further. “You say you have some information on my Frederick?”
“Yes, I do. Would you mind if I came in? I brought us a tea cake.” Holly held up the white box containing the treat.
“Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you, dear. Come in. Come in. I’ll put the kettle on.”
Holly stepped into a small lounge area dotted with trinkets, fake flowers, and a variety of photos. Several photo frames housed pictures of Frederick. Him in his police uniform, playing sports, and with his arms around a much younger version of his elderly mom.
As she followed Dorothy’s slow progress into the apartment, Holly prayed the news she was about to give the elderly woman wouldn’t ruin the image Dorothy had created for her son.
Dorothy made tea and indicated where Holly could find small plates and a knife to cut the tea cake. She may look frail, but Dorothy could assert herself just fine. Once they were ready, she led them back to the living room, and while the elderly woman sat in a small recliner, Holly sat on the two-seater sofa, close to Dorothy. She put her bag on the couch beside her and swallowed hard.
She’d rehearsed over and over how she’d convey what she knew, and the only way that’d made any sense was to start at the beginning. Holly placed her tea cup on the coffee table and turned to Dorothy. “Dorothy, what I have to tell you is a long story.”
“I’ve got all afternoon, dear.” She sipped her tea.
“You may need it. Okay, so four years ago, I traveled to Canada with my fiancé, Milton.”
Dorothy was an excellent listener, she nodded and blinked and sipped her tea, but didn’t utter a single sound until Holly said, “The helicopter explosion released a giant chunk of ice. That’s when I saw… Frederick and Angelique. They were there, on the ledge with me.”
Dorothy gasped. Frowned. Her hand went to the pearls around her neck and tears welled in her eyes as she put her tea cup down. But still she remained silent. Holly reached into her purse and removed the photo she’d chosen as the most moving, yet beautiful picture of the couple.
It was peaceful, loving.
Dorothy reached for the photo and her lips parted. For a long moment she stared at the photo with her trembling fingers, making it shiver. Finally, a small smile curled at her lips. “They make such a handsome couple.”
Holly sighed. “Yes, they do.”
She reached into her bag and removed all the photos she’d taken. Holly explained their position in the crevice, how far down they were, and how far they’d walked from the plane wreck. “It was a miracle they survived the crash.”
“It must’ve been awful.”
“They tried to walk out, but their shoes would’ve made it impossible… see?” Holly pointed to the close-up of Angel’s feet.
“My Frederick was a real gentleman; he probably carried her.”
Holly could see him doing that. Dorothy ran her finger over the photo of Angel’s hand with the locket draped through her fingers and Holly removed the locket from her purse. “I think they would’ve wanted you to have this.”
She placed the locket into the soft skin of Dorothy’s palm, and when she opened the pendant a tear spilled from her pale blue eyes. “This’s beautiful.”
Holly carried on
with her story, explaining why it’d taken her so long to tell anyone about Fred and Angel, why no one believed her, and how she’d seen the news report with the plane wreck that Carter Logan had found. She told Dorothy about seeing her on the news and how devastated she’d been that nobody had believed her story either.
“Nobody did. I knew Frederick would never hurt anyone.” Her eyes grew wide. “Oh my. All this time, I’ve blamed David, but it wasn’t him.” Her hand went to her mouth, and it was obvious that her false accusations hurt.
That’s when Holly removed the small leather-bound pocket book they’d found in the suitcase. “Fred wrote a note. I guess he hoped they’d one day be found.”
Dorothy frowned, but then a smile crept across her lips. “He always kept a little notebook in his top pocket. All day long he’d be jotting things down in that silly book. That’s why he was a good detective, you know. Frederick never missed anything.”
Again, her hands trembled when Holly handed the notebook over. When she flipped up the cover, Holly reached for her cup of tea and sat back. Fred had meticulously detailed everything in the book. It read like a police report, and Holly had been surprised at how many of her assumptions were true. David had been an abusive husband to Angelique. Frederick had been the police officer who’d tried to convince her to lodge a complaint against David. But it was the ransom money that she’d completely misjudged. It wasn’t ransom money at all.
The whole idea had been David’s.
The conniving ratbag had given Fred the money. The sum was barely one-tenth of their combined wealth, of which Angel had earned the majority. In exchange for the money, Angel and Frederick were to run away, disappear, which suited them both just fine. But what they hadn’t planned on was David accusing Fred of kidnapping Angel and stealing the ransom.
Once they were settled in Canada, they’d planned to expose David as the lying abusive husband he was and then invite Dorothy and her husband to come and live with them.
Holly waited for Dorothy to reach that detail in Frederick’s notes. When she did, a sob released from her lips. “I knew he wouldn’t have abandoned me.”
“He didn’t. He loved you.”
“He loved me.” The words whispered off her lips, convincing Holly that she’d finally brought justice to Angel and Fred, and brought closure to Dorothy.
When Dorothy reached the end of the book, she folded the cover closed, placed it in her lap, and curled her fingers over it. “Thank you.”
Holly leaned forward and placed her hands over Dorothy’s. “Let me know if you want to take this farther, and I’ll help you all the way.”
Dorothy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, David has been living this lie for forty years. Maybe it’s time for the world to know exactly what he did.”
Dorothy blinked and blinked some more. Then her lips curled into a smile.
Holly reached into her purse. “Here’s my phone number. Think about it, and let me know what you decide. Oh, and one more thing. We found the so-called ransom money with Fred and Angel in that suitcase that was at their feet. So, now that we know David gave the money to Fred, I guess the money is yours.” Holly handed over a bank check for half a million dollars. Dorothy didn’t need to know what really happened with the cash.
A twinkle danced in Dorothy’s eyes when she saw the figure. “Oh my.” When her fingers twirled the pearl necklace at her throat, the tremble she’d displayed several times was no longer there. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Holly stood. “It was lovely to meet you. Please don’t stand up, I can show myself out.”
But Dorothy pushed forward on her chair and used her cane to stand. Once upright, she held her arms open. Holly stepped into the woman’s embrace and they hugged each other for a very long time.
It was three in the afternoon when Holly returned to the city and crossed the lobby of the Columbia Center skyscraper in downtown Seattle. She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the sixty-second floor. Where she’d been apprehensive about meeting with Dorothy, this next meeting was one she was truly looking forward to.
Holly applied a touch of lipstick in the mirror, and rather than hide the scar on her face, she hooked her hair behind her ear. Her stomach did a little flip at her arrival at the floor, and she stepped onto the plush carpet. At the end of the hall was Princeton and Howard Law Firm, and although this was the first time she’d been there, it wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with them.
Holly stepped through the smoky glass doors, and a stunning woman with a perfectly styled blond updo looked up from a dark mahogany desk and smiled. “Good afternoon, Miss Parmenter. We’ve been expecting you.”
The woman stood and indicated they should walk together. “May I offer you something to drink? Tea, coffee, juice?”
“Some orange juice would be lovely.”
The receptionist knocked once on a large wooden door and then pushed to enter. “Miss Parmenter has arrived.”
“Thank you, Madonna.” Madonna retreated and a man stepped forward to offer his hand. “Good afternoon, Miss Parmenter. My name is Evert Howard.”
She shook his firm grip. “Please, call me Holly.”
“As you wish. Please take a seat. I’ve prepared all the necessary documents. Your guest is waiting in the other room.”
Holly smiled. “Excellent.”
As Evert summarized what he’d prepared, Madonna returned with Holly’s juice. “Mrs. Ashcroft has arrived. Would you like me to show her in?”
He turned to Holly. “Are you ready?”
She sat back, straightened her shoulders, and nodded. “I’ve never been more ready in my life.”
He turned back to Madonna. “Please, show her in.”
When the door reopened, Victoria Ashcroft stepped into the room. The smile she’d had plastered on her face vanished in a second. “What is this?”
Evert stood with his hand forward. “Hello, Mrs. Ashcroft. My name is Evert Howard, I represent Ms. Parmenter. Please take a seat.”
Victoria glared at Holly, and for a few thumping heartbeats Holly feared she’d step back out the door. But she didn’t. She squared her jaw, flicked her hair over her shoulders, and sat into the chair Evert was holding out for her.
“I assume you’ve been following the recent events in the news.” Holly wasted no time getting to the point.
Victoria fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger as she nodded. The three-carat diamond had been from Milton, and Holly had always been surprised that Victoria continued to wear it.
“Then you’re aware that I attempted to retrieve Milton’s body from the crevice.”
“I heard you failed.” Her lips formed a thin smile.
“Not entirely.”
“What does that mean?”
“Did you know Milton had an affair with Fiona Tate for over twenty years?”
Her eyes flared. “Rubbish!”
Holly ignored her outburst. “They had a son. Reginald Tate.”
“Kane was Milton’s only son. But you killed him.”
“Milton had at least one other son, I can assure you.”
“You need to prove it.”
“We have every intention of proving it. But we have a proposition for you first.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Because you’ve been fighting over Milton’s will for four years, the fact that it’s still not settled means Regi is now able to make a claim to the estate. It’s come to my attention that in addition to Milton’s long-running affair with Regi’s mother, he also had sex with numerous women while you two were married and while he was engaged to me. Milton was the epitome of a lying cheating bastard. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Victoria made a short gasp and her eyes darted from Evert to Holly.
“There’s a chance there are more children, just like Reginald. So, the sooner you settle the estate, the better.”
“I’m not letting this… liar ge
t one cent.”
“I thought you’d say that.” Holly turned to Evert. He nodded and pressed a button on a panel on the table. Moments later Regi walked into the room. Holly had purchased the clothes for him to wear and had instructed him to get a haircut. Even still, she wasn’t prepared for his transformation. The purple business shirt was exactly the same shade as the one Milton had worn regularly. Yet, even with the slight bruising still around his eye, his resemblance to her late fiancé was spooky.
Victoria covered her mouth and her eyes bulged.
“Good afternoon.” Regi stepped forward and offered to shake hands with Victoria. “You must be Victoria. You may not remember me, but we spoke on the phone a while ago.”
Holly had to choke back the chuckle in her throat. It was obvious Regi had studied video footage of Milton too, because he perfectly replicated Milton’s voice and mannerisms.
Regi tugged a chair from the table, and when he placed a suave leather briefcase onto the polished wood, Holly wondered whether Evert had provided it.
“During our phone call,” Regi continued, “you said, and I quote”—He paused for effect— “‘unless she comes up with something solid like DNA, she’s got nothing.’” Regi flipped up the lid of the briefcase and extracted Milton’s Seahawks beanie and a Ziplock bag with a lock of dark wavy hair. He slid the items across the table and Victoria jumped back as if they were spiders.
“Ask and you shall receive.”
Holly couldn’t resist chuckling at Regi’s impersonation of one of Milton’s favorite sayings.
Victoria spun to her. “You think this’s funny?”
“Come on,” Regi said. “It’s a little bit funny. I bet you never thought we’d find my father’s—Milton’s DNA.”
Victoria’s eyes were wild. She folded her arms across her chest. Her nostrils flared and her lips pursed as she stared at the Ziplock bag. She did a little shake of her head, as if shaking some horrible image free. “What’s this proposal?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Evert said. “Holly and Reginald have come up with what we believe is a fair and equitable distribution of Mr. Milton Ashcroft’s estate.”
Extreme Limit Page 26
