“Titan?” Corrine asks.
My lips quirk. “You need to hear the whole thing first.”
Corrine pulls the chair out and pats the seat. “We’re waiting.”
I tell them how the fake news stories about me led to a confrontation while I was out with Axel on a date, and how in my panic and humiliation I left him on the sidewalk. Then I explain that he’s been polite when I contact him since then, but has seemed to walk away from a personal relationship with me.
“Fuck him,” Lilly says.
I sigh. “Anyway, my girls threw me a break-up party after it became clear what had happened.”
“I love that,” Corrine says.
“Good, because I ordered cock pops, and Lelani has them for the cupcakes for your bachelorette party tonight,” Caroline says.
Corrine’s eyes grow wide. “Oh, those are going to be fun.”
“Totally!” Lilly grins.
“And, anyway Caroline here brought me Titan that evening.”
Caroline smiles. “Isn’t it awesome?”
I nod. “I don’t think I’ll ever need another man.”
We are a puddle of giggles when Mason walks in. He steps back and looks at himself. He’s the opposite of Caroline—showered, shaved, and dressed for the day. “What?”
“Mia was just telling us about her Bob that she’s named Titan,” Caroline says with a smirk. “She’s swearing off all men.”
Mason looks at me. “Bob does magic. But if you can believe this, it’s even better with a friend.”
Tinsley walks in with Landon. “Are you referring to Bob as in a battery-operated boyfriend?”
Mason nods. “Mia’s swearing off men in favor of her Bob.”
“His name is not Bob; it’s Titan,” I point out.
Landon looks at me with one eye shut. “Is it horse sized?”
Caroline scowls. “No, I gave her a Soraya, and she loves it.”
Tinsley smiles. “Enjoy it. And while Mason’s right—”
“He’s totally right, but self-love is always a good thing,” Landon says.
Tinsley looks at Landon, and he gives her a smile. “Have fun with Titan,” he concludes.
Jackson arrives downstairs, also looking ready for the day.
“Where are you guys off to?” I ask, trying to get the conversation to move beyond self-love.
“We have a tee time in less than an hour,” Jackson says.
Suddenly most of the guys I play poker with come in through the sliding glass doors, looking disheveled.
“Why do they all look like they’re hungover?” I ask.
“Because they are,” Caroline reports. “They sat by the pool drinking bourbon all night, and when Mason got back to our room, I jumped him.”
“I did the same thing,” Tinsley admits.
Before I can respond, the wedding planner appears with a list of the ladies’ tasks for today, which include lunch and an afternoon of treatments at a local spa.
I think that’s an agenda I can manage.
Later that afternoon, I’m one of the last six poker players left, and I still have the highest chip count. During a break in the game, we sit around the tables talking, and Marci pulls Nate and me aside. Lilly joins us.
“I just received notice from Viviana’s counsel,” Marci says.
My stress levels, which were bottoming out nicely, are now sky high again. “What did she want?”
“When someone drops shit in your lap on a Friday—particularly when she knows you’re out of town—it’s intended to piss you off,” Marci says. “But we already know Tatyana likes to poke the bear.”
“She still wants to meet with Katrina?” Nate asks.
Marci nods. “Yes, on Tuesday morning.”
Nate takes a deep breath. “At least it’s after the wedding. I guess I won’t be traveling with the team.”
Marci nods. “I’d like to meet with Katrina on Monday after we land to go through her testimony and prepare her.”
“I can’t watch her terrorize my sixteen-year-old daughter,” Nate grinds out.
“She won’t. I won’t let her. But I also think she’s doing this to get at you.”
I turn to Nate. “The final thing she said to me was that Viviana wanted me to visit her in Colorado. That parting shot was a kick in the gut. This is your kick in the gut.”
Nate rubs his hands over his face. “What do we do?”
“Would you be okay if Lilly sat with Katrina?” Marci asks. “Not only would it prevent you from walking into, at minimum, an assault charge, it would likely throw Tatyana off.”
“Absolutely,” Lilly says.
After a moment, Nate nods as well.
“Then let’s make that happen,” Marci says. “Both of you can be there for the prep, but Lilly will go to the deposition as her legal guardian.”
Lilly reaches for Nate’s hand. I see how it calms and seems to center him. They’re so sweet and suited for each other. I like to watch them—the way they look at each other when they think no one else is looking, and the way his hands steals hers when she least expects it. It makes my heart hurt because the closest I’ve ever come to feeling like that was with Axel, and it seems that’s over before it really began.
Marci turns to me. “And on Wednesday, they want you in Portland.”
My eyes pop wide. “Why?”
“The federal government is getting pressure about Viviana. She’s a Russian citizen, so the Russians are asking to trade her for an American or two they have in custody. As part of sorting this out, the State Department wants to meet with you and Nate, but they’re starting with you.”
Nate opens and closes his fists.
“I’m not supportive of any kind of trade,” I tell her. “I will get on the phone to every single representative and senator to make sure that doesn’t happen. It can’t. She needs to stand trial.”
Nate shakes his head. “No way.”
Marci nods. “We’re going to fight this, and I’m pulling Walker in to work it with President Bolden from his side, but we still need to jump through the hoops.”
“That’s fine,” I say. “Whatever gets this over with. I’m anxious to get back to working and living my life.”
Chapter 24
Axel
There’s a knock at my front door on Friday afternoon, and I answer to find Bash with a dark-haired, petite woman.
“This is Fiona McPhee,” he says.
“Great to meet you.” I motion them in and to the living room, which is strewn with toys and game controllers. “On second thought, let’s talk in the kitchen.” I walk them past the living room to the back of the condo. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’m good,” Fiona says.
“I’m good, too,” Bash says.
I watch him hold the chair out for Fiona, and for a moment I wonder if they’re together. But it’s a passing thought—this is an unscheduled meeting, and they obviously have something for me.
Fiona begins. “We were unable to serve Marco with the restraining order.”
My knee bounces nervously.
My worry must show on my face as well, because Bash holds his hand up. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Marco arrived this morning and was moved to an interview room as we’d planned. They spoke to him about his arrest and used that as an excuse to search his bags. Inside they found five thousand pills of Oxy and a brick of heroin.”
My mouth falls open. “That’s more than for personal use. What does that mean?”
“He’s going to be in jail for a while.”
I nod. “Good. I hope Marco called my parents to bail him out, because no one here is going to be helping his sorry ass.”
Bash chuckles. “Funny you should say that. When I swapped out Alana’s SIM card, I transferred the data. I removed his information from her new phone and kept her old phone number live in our system. It will allow us to track him and his mental state.”
“Has he called her?”
; “He has.” Bash looks at the table. “He didn’t know he was going to be hit with a restraining order, so he starts off telling her he needs her to come get him with your checkbook. With each call he gets progressively more agitated. Your mother also called. She’s pretty upset and told Alana she feels like you’re keeping her away from her grandchildren.”
I snort. “She made her bed, and Alana is on board with this decision.”
“Right now, we have two guys on the house, plus Nina,” Bash reminds me. “Do you feel comfortable if we step back? I hate to have you pay for a team you don’t need while this guy’s in jail.”
I nod. “As long as we’ll know the second he makes bail. Thanks.”
Fiona looks over at Tavish, who’s wandered in with his pudgy thighs, white-blond hair, and a sagging diaper. “Without a doubt, and the police will serve him when he’s released and remind him to stay away. Does he have your address?”
“I’m not sure. My parents may have given it to him.”
Bash’s eyebrows arch. “And given that they flew him in, it wouldn’t surprise you that they did.”
I’m so angry with my parents right now. I shake my head. “It wouldn’t even surprise me if they were to break the restraining order.”
Bash turns to watch Tavish and Laird playing in my living room. “I agree. Marco’s getting more and more upset, and when he’s released from jail, it won’t be pretty.”
Alana appears. I tell her where Marco is, and I can see the relief wash over her. “Thank goodness,” she sighs.
“Most likely Mom and Dad gave Marco my address. The house next door to Kelly is for rent. We can look at that, if you’re interested. Mom and Dad won’t have that address. You can walk the boys to school, and there’s a bedroom for Nina. But I won’t know where you are.”
“What are you going to do? Is it safe for you to be here alone?” Alana picks at her thumbnail.
I shrug. “I’ll be fine. I have plenty of work and can meet up with you guys regularly to keep me busy.”
“Aren’t you worried Marco’s going to be pissed when he gets here?”
“Nope. I can take him.” I pause to see if that gets her to smile. Not really. “Plus, I’m not sure he’ll make bail,” I continue. “I can’t see his mom and stepdad leveraging their house, and now that Mom and Dad aren’t allowed to contact you, I would hope they’ve realized their mistake and won’t bail him out of jail this time.”
Alana huffs. “You would think. I haven’t heard from them, but of course they don’t have my new number.”
Fiona reaches for Alana. “I’m really sorry for everything you’ve had to face. I know what I’m going to say is a big ask, but I’d like you to sit down with a family lawyer. With Marco in jail, you hold all the cards. This is the time to pounce and use his predicament to your advantage.”
Tears spring to Alana’s eyes, and she nods.
“I can go with you,” Fiona says softly, and Alana gives her a grateful smile.
“We’re here for you,” I say.
A little while later, after Alana pulls herself together, Fiona takes her to see the lawyer. I send along a check for five thousand dollars to pay the first retainer. I’ve agreed to hang out with the boys and Nina, and I’m forcing myself to get back on the internet. No more hiding from this Mia mess. I’m determined to get to the bottom of what’s happening with her and make sure I have my head on straight.
I look back through the articles I read about Mia the other night. Now that I slow down and use a more critical eye, I realize these aren’t websites or publications I’ve ever heard of. When I look into them further, many are flagged as Russian trolls.
I sit back hard in my chair. Confirming it once again: I fucked up. I needed to be here for my sister—there’s no doubt about that—but I let this crap go to my head. It was a while ago, but I went to law school, for God’s sake. I know grand jury deliberations are secret. You’re not allowed to talk about them. How could an article report what had been alleged while Mia and Nate were under grand jury investigation? Also, now that I look back at the reporting around Cecelia Lancaster’s murder, I can see that multiple outlets—ones I’ve heard of and have a reputation for real journalism—reported that Viviana Prentis confessed to killing Cecelia Lancaster because she’d witnessed Viviana meeting with a US senator.
I’ve seen Nate with his fiancée, Lilly, and I’ve seen him with Mia. There’s no way he’s romantically involved with Mia.
I search Mia’s name again and scroll past the clickbait to articles from more reputable sources. For one thing, I’m stunned by her personal net worth. I figured she’d done well, but I didn’t understand how well. She’s mentioned on the Lancaster Foundation website as a significant donor. And in an Economist article on women in tech, she mentions that she caps her personal wealth at ten billion dollars. Each year she donates anything she’s earned over that amount. And upon her death, she’ll give almost everything to the foundation.
Articles in the financial newspapers indicate she’s taken a leave of absence from Diamond Analytics because of the Viviana Prentis investigation, though it’s not clear whether that was her choice or forced.
There’s even a high school newspaper article on Mia’s participation with the Prospectors and their draft. The byline says Emily Jordan, and I wonder if she’s any relation to George Jordan, the Prospectors’ GM.
A cold sweat envelops me as I realize the magnitude of what I’ve done. I think about how wonderfully Mia treated my young players. She was always kind and generous with her time and praise. She treated wait staff and hotel workers that way too. She was never condescending or difficult. And when that man accosted her at the restaurant, she didn’t confront him or threaten him. Instead, she left the waiter a generous tip and let Peter help her escape and with her head held high.
I’m the biggest jerk ever. Why didn’t I believe in her? Or believe in myself and my ability to judge people’s character? Even Jeremy understood this before I did. I’ve been schooled by a seventeen year old.
I pick up my phone and stare at it. I know Mia’s still out of town, but I can’t let this go for another moment.
I think I’m in kind of a haze, just wandering around and hoping I can fix things with Mia. Jeremy’s still at home with his family, so I don’t have working with him to keep me occupied, and I’ve been letting everything else slide this week—unfortunately. It’s been four days since I left Mia a voice message, throwing myself on my sword, and she’s not responded. I know she was planning to be back from Hawaii by now… Was explaining that I was an idiot not enough? Should I send flowers? Have SoBe deliver an apology message?
My phone rings, and it takes me a moment to find it, even though I haven’t left my desk in hours. I find it under a stack of papers. Jeremy.
“Hey, man,” I answer. “Why are you calling me while you’re home with your family? Is everything okay?”
“I’m calling to see how you’re doing.”
“How I’m doing? I’m good,” I assure him. The rumor mill must have reached him in Nebraska. “What have you heard?”
“You don’t know?” he gasps.
“Know what?” My mind moves to my sister, who I can hear upstairs singing to Tavish. The boys are here and with Nina. I don’t think Jeremy knows about the latest drama with Marco or my parents.
“Mia was on a helicopter that went down way up north, toward the Oregon border. It could be foul play.”
I stand up. “What? Are you kidding?”
“No, man.” His voice breaks. “Do you want me to come back and wait with you? I mean, she’s incredible. She’s my lucky charm. What am I going to do?”
Through my panic, I feel a little jealous of the relationship he’s talking about with Mia. “Okay, first, let me make some phone calls. Stay by your phone, but don’t cut your trip short. I’m sure everything is going to be fine.”
“Man, what are we going to do?” Jeremy implores.
I need to calm him d
own. “I’m going to call her security team and see what I can find out.”
I hang up and immediately call Bash. “Mr. Remington,” he says, and I can hear strain in his voice.
“What do you know about Mia Couture’s helicopter?”
“Nothing yet. They took off from Portland’s airport helo pad at four thirty-six. They had a mayday shortly thereafter, and the helicopter went down in the mountains between Redding and Eureka.”
“What does that mean? I’ve heard they’re reporting it as foul play. That’s a pretty heavily wooded area.”
“We don’t know why the helo went down. It’s not an area that’s always the safest—giant pot farms and armed men.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. Wait. If you hear from her, call and let us know. We do believe from the mayday that the helo was compromised.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Did she ever get my apology message? Why is she way up near Oregon? “Should I get in my Jeep and drive north to Redding? That way when you find them, I’ll be in the area and can get to them quickly.”
Bash sighs. “No, although I like your thinking. Jim took a chopper and is there now. They’re on the lookout. They’re doing a grid search.”
I sigh in frustration. “I’ve got to do something. I’ve been a jerk.”
“I’ll call you as soon as we know something.”
We hang up, and I pace around my living room. I don’t like just hanging out and waiting.
I have Nate’s cell number!
A woman answers the phone. “Hi, this is Axel Remington. Is Nate available?”
“Hey, Axel. This is Lilly. Nate’s on the phone with Jim. I assume you’re calling about Mia?”
“Yes. Does Nate know anything?” I ask, but before she can even answer, I forge ahead. “I have so much to tell her. I’ve been such an ass. I…I just don’t know what to do.”
“I understand,” Lilly says softly. “We missed you in Hawaii, but Mia said you had unexpected visitors.”
“Yeah, my sister and her four boys came suddenly. It’s been rather chaotic. But I wasn’t there for Mia. She tried to be here for me, but some guy freaked out in a restaurant, and then I fell into an internet hole and shut down.” I can hear myself. I sound like a crazy person.
Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series Page 23
