by Jill Sanders
The woman swung open the door to reveal a massive office. There was glass from ceiling to floor, showcasing a beautiful view of the city and the Hollywood Hills in the distance.
“Clara.” Henry rushed around the neatly organized glass desk. The man was nothing like he’d expected. He’d expected a man who looked similar to Terry: tall, tan, toned. Instead, Henry Knight was short and extremely pudgy. Not that he wasn’t in shape. He moved quickly and confidently, and that told Reagan a lot. There were golf clubs tucked into the corner of the room that looked like they hadn’t been used in years. Yet there were pictures of a younger version of him on the golf course with Clara’s father and other groups of men.
“Henry, this is Reagan Grayton.” Clara introduced him after she was free of the older man’s hug.
“Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand and it was instantly taken into a warm handshake.
“When Terry told me you were home…” The man smiled and patted his heart. “Well, let’s just say this old ticker skipped a few beats for joy.”
Clara chuckled. “How are you?” she asked as he motioned for them to sit down.
“I’m…” The man’s smile and steps faltered. “Doing good.”
Reagan could tell that the man was lying. As he sat down, the man shoved a stack of medical bills into a drawer and closed it.
Clara seemed ignorant to the fact and continued on. “I happened to mention to Terry last night that I was thinking of selling my shares in the business.”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Does your father know?”
“My shares were gifted to me on my eighteenth birthday.”
“Yes, I remember. I was at the party.” He smiled easily. “But I would have thought that you’d offer them up to your father first?”
“My father has made his stance very clear on… the past.” She swallowed. They had planned how to handle the questions. “I can’t stick around here anymore.” She looked around the building as if even this office brought up bad memories. “I want to start over.” She reached for his hand. “Somewhere new. The shares are tying me down. My father doesn’t want me to sell them.”
“I understand.” Henry nodded. “Of course, I’d be happy to take them off your hands. Unfortunately, they aren’t worth what they used to be.”
“Oh?” she asked. Their plan to get information directly from the horse’s mouth seemed to be working.
“In the past few years… Since Gina’s death, your father has had a lack of interest in the business and it has shown. Share prices have slumped.”
“Is the business in trouble?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “It hasn’t come to anything… drastic, but I thought I ought to warn you.”
“I see.” She nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No.” The older man sighed. “Short of a miracle or getting your father to show interest in his business again, nothing.”
Chapter 17
Clara listened to Henry say that he’d have his lawyers contact theirs and then they said their goodbyes.
After leaving the office, Reagan took her arm and started walking slowly down the hallway.
“He’s ill,” he said under his breath.
“He…” She jerked and glanced back over her shoulder. “How do you know?”
“Medical bills. His desk was filled with them when we walked in. I’m guessing the last week he was off for personal reasons was really due to something medical. How does he look?”
Before she could answer, an office door opened and Corey stepped out, almost bumping into her and toppling her over. Thankfully, Reagan was there and steadied her.
“Clara?” He frowned when he noticed who he had almost bumped over.
“Corey.” She smiled, remembering that he’d mentioned he worked there now. “Is this your office?” She glanced into the room.
“Yeah.” He shut the door as he shifted the stacks of papers in his hands. “I’m sorry, I would chat, but I’m running late for a meeting.” He nodded towards Henry’s office. “If you have time, let’s meet up later?” His eyes moved over to Reagan.
“Sure,” she said easily.
Out of all of her friends, Corey was the only one who had contacted her after Gina’s death. Her father had turned him away at the door, claiming that she needed her rest, but at least he’d tried.
She hadn’t even had the guts to break up with him before running away. She’d always felt bad about leaving things the way she had, but she’d needed her life to change and thought he would understand.
Reagan didn’t speak again until they were back in the car. “Do you think he’ll tell your father?” he asked.
Since her mind was still on Corey, she asked, “Who?”
“Knight?” He pulled out of the parking garage. “Do you think he’ll tell your father that you’re trying to sell the shares?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She shifted in the seat, ready for some lunch already. “He might. They were always close.”
“Then we’d better get there first,” he answered. “How do you feel about lunch?”
“I’d love some, but how does that get us talking to my father first?”
He chuckled. “He’s having lunch at the country club. I saw his name on the registration the other day when you were there.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re like a super spy,” she accused, causing him to chuckle.
“Grayton… Reagan Grayton.” He frowned. “Not as good as Bond, but it’ll do.” He smiled.
Thankfully, her name was still technically on the guest list for the club, and they were seated at a table in the main dining hall. She knew her father always liked this room better than sitting outside or by the pool, so the chances of them seeing him were high.
They had just ordered when Reagan touched her arm. “He’s here,” he said softly. “And sees us.”
She was a little surprised to see her father walking across the room towards them alone. She’d expected Rebecca to be with him, since they usually lunched together at the club.
“Dad,” she said easily, picking up her wine glass. “Care to join us?”
“What are you two doing here?” he asked, glancing around the room as if he was embarrassed to be seen talking with her.
“Celebrating. We’ve just agreed to sell my shares in Sunset Dreams.” Her father’s face paled.
“You…” he sputtered. “You can’t.” He shook his head again and sat down hard in the chair across from her. There had been a time when she would have instantly worried about his health. But not anymore. If he really did believe she had murdered Gina, so much so that he’d removed her from his will, then she had to stop caring what he did. Still, it weighed on her, seeing him like that.
“Clara, you’re making a big mistake pursuing this. The shares are in both of our names. You need my approval to sell them.” Her father took her hand and leaned closer to whisper to her. “Besides, you don’t want to get yourself tied up in this mess. Please.” He turned to Reagan. “While you can, take her away from here.” He glanced around again. “Go, before it’s…” He stopped talking when Rebecca and Henry Knight walked into the room. “He called us and wanted to meet for lunch,” he added quickly.
“Why, Carlo, what’s wrong?” Rebecca rushed to his side. Worry marred her face. “Was it something Clara said?” Her eyes narrowed in her direction.
“No, darling, I’m just hungry.” Her father stood up and rubbed his belly. “Clara was just telling me about your meeting,” her father added. “We can discuss the details later,” he told Henry. Clara got the feeling that a secret message had passed between the men.
“Good, enough talk about business,” Henry added, taking Rebecca’s arm. “How about we go and enjoy our lunch?” He started walking her towards their waiting table.
Her father turned and quietly said, “This is for your own good.”
“You don’t think…” Clara said the moment they were back in their hotel roo
m.
“What?” he asked when she didn’t finish her question.
She turned to him after tossing her purse on the sofa. “You don’t think my dad is playing a game with us, do you? That he’s pretending?”
“Pretending what?”
“I don’t know.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t?” He sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Any of it.” She walked over to the windows to look out at the view. Then she suddenly turned back. “Him pulling me out of his will. He paid you to find me, then acts like I’m the murderer.” She shook her head. “Before I ran away, Dad was the only one who told me he believed in me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. “I believed him back then.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. Then her eyes opened and met his.
“I don’t believe him now when he acts like I killed Gina. Something has changed.”
“He acted afraid when you told him about selling the shares,” Reagan recalled. At first, he’d believed the man had been angry, but after hearing him warn them off, his opinion had changed.
“Yes.” She pointed at him. “Exactly.”
“So, then the question is… why?” He pulled his laptop from the hotel safe and set it on the desk so they could research how much Sunset Dreams Realty shares were worth and, more important, why.
Two hours later, Clara rested on the bed while Reagan ordered room service. The fancy club they had eaten at served small portions for high prices.
After ordering a burger with fries and two milkshakes, he continued to search for any information he could on her father’s business.
Just before the food arrived, he changed his tactics and started looking into Henry Knight’s health issues.
“I found something,” he said, waking Clara up. “Sorry.” He glanced over at her just as a knock on the door sounded. “That will be the room service.” He got up to get the door.
Coming back in with the tray, he set it down and lifted the lid. “I got you a shake. I figured we could share the burger and fries.”
“The shake is fine for me.” She took it from him. “Maybe a few fries.” She snagged a few off his plate as she looked over his shoulder at the screen. “What did you find?”
“Henry Knight isn’t the one who’s sick,” he said with confidence.
“He isn’t?”
“No.” He pulled up the image of the man helping his daughter Terry into a car after a controversial surgery in Europe.
“Terry?” She sat down next to him. “What?” Her eyes scanned the page. “That’s why she didn’t want to be left alone with me.” She closed her eyes. “She didn’t want to tell me she was dying.”
“Not yet. It says in the article that this picture was taken over a year ago. Her cancer is in remission.”
“So, Henry racks up the medical bills for Terry, paying for a treatment that saves her, only to, what? Kill Gina for her shares because he can’t pay for it all? I don’t buy it.” She shook her head. “Besides, there is no way Terry was sick back when Gina was killed five years ago.”
Reagan’s shoulders slumped. “Right.” He shut down his computer. “Okay, so if not Henry, then… who?”
Chapter 18
That question played in Clara’s mind all night long. Who? Who would have wanted her sister dead five years ago? And why?
If only Clara could remember more from that day. But every time she tried to remember; all she came up with was blackness.
“What do you think of hypnosis?” she asked Reagan a few days later.
They had been keeping a low profile while they continued to search for more clues. Since she had no desire to be in California, she kept to the hotel. Most of their meals were ordered through room service.
Even though she found herself bored, being in the same room with him was still better than venturing out alone.
“I’ve never tried it,” he admitted as he turned towards her.
She’d been watching an episode of CSI about two women being hypnotized.
“You’re thinking of trying to remember that night?” he asked.
“That entire day. Maybe the reason I can’t remember anything is because I saw or did something that would shed light on what happened.” She sat up. “I’ve often wondered why they murdered Gina and not me? I mean, if you’re going to kill one of us, why not both?”
“They needed to frame you,” he said smoothly. “Once you were locked up for the crime…”—he motioned with his hand— “they would be in the clear to do…whatever they had planned.”
“Then why wait five years? I mean, if their move is to drive down my father’s business… I just don’t see any profit to it.”
He snapped his fingers and pulled out his phone, putting it on speaker.
“Hey, Uncle Luke, I’m here with Clara. Can you tell her what happened to your family’s business shares after your dad had his stroke?”
“Hey.” Clara heard his uncle’s cheery voice. “Sure. I took over for my dad. The share prices took a huge dive because I was, and I’m quoting this, ‘Unstable for the business.’”
“Then what?” Reagan asked. “What happened after that?”
“Well, I shocked them all by buying up the discarded shares they didn’t want.” She could hear humor in Luke’s voice.
“Then what?” Reagan smiled as they waited.
“Well, about three months later, I shocked them again by buying a sketchy property, a purchase that went against my father’s better judgment when he was alive. He’d been after Cassey’s place. She wasn’t selling, so I bought a different plot of land for a lot less than what we would have paid for her place on the boardwalk. We made millions after the share prices skyrocketed due to the new family friendly hotel I built on the location. When the dust cleared, I owned the majority of the shares in the company and they were easily worth triple what I had purchased them for.”
Reagan looked at her. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” Luke added cheerfully. “You think this has something to do with Clara’s sister and her father’s business?”
“We’ll let you know,” he said before saying his goodbyes.
“So.” She waited. “You think someone killed my sister to get her shares so they could drive down the price of them. And then what? Buy more? Then build them back up?”
“It’s a long shot, but it could happen. It has happened lots of times before. I wouldn’t put it past someone to murder someone, especially if we’re talking millions. You said you received a tenth of the business?” he asked.
When she nodded, he turned back around and asked over his shoulder. “Was your dad going to give Gina the same amount?”
“I think so.” She shrugged. “We didn’t really, you know, care or know what it meant at the time. Only that it was a gift that meant a lot to our father.”
“So, if this is the case, who stands to gain the most from it?” He turned back around and asked her. “Currently, your tenth of the shares in the business are worth ten point three million.”
“What?” she gasped. She was thankful she was sitting down. She’d never even imagined her father’s business was worth that much.
“Trust me when I say, that’s nothing compared to what they could be worth. When your father gifted them to you…” He turned around and calculated again. “They were worth almost double that.”
She swallowed and closed her eyes. “My god.” She felt her stomach roll. “I…” She shook her head then jumped up from the bed and rushed to the bathroom, where she threw up, making it to the toilet just in time.
“Hey.” Reagan was right there behind her. “It’s okay.” He rubbed her back.
“Go away. I don’t want…” She was sick again. “Please,” she cried as he handed her a towel and a glass of water.
“Sip it,” he warned.
“I don’t want you to see me.” She groaned as she buried her head in the
towel. “Please, I’m so…”
“Embarrassed?” She could hear the frown in his tone. “Don’t be. Everyone gets sick. I had to help Bella each time she got sick. My mother hasn’t the stomach for it.” He chuckled. “I would have ended up cleaning up after both of them.”
She rested her back against the bathroom wall. “No wonder someone murdered Gina and framed me.” She closed her eyes on the pain. “All of that money.”
“Millions,” he agreed. “Tens of millions, which could easily jump back up to hundreds of millions, if your father stepped back in and ran the business.”
Again, her stomach rolled. “Rebecca?” she said under her breath.
“We need to find out why your dad is still at home,” he said softly. “How about you clean up. I’ll order us some food and we can rest tonight.
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to wait any longer.” She walked over and started to brush her teeth. “It has to be tonight,” she said with the toothbrush still in her mouth. “I’m tired of waiting. She’s gotten away with this for too long.”
Reagan stood beside her as she rang the doorbell. She’d freshened up after being sick and then had called her father, telling him only that they needed to talk.
Rebecca opened the door again. This time, there wasn’t a hug or a squeal.
“Come on in.” She motioned for them to enter. They followed her back to where Clara’s father was sitting in the living room, waiting for them.
“Dad.” She nodded and sat across from him.
“This sounded urgent,” he said, looking a little worried.
“It is.” Clara glanced over at Rebecca.
“I can get some drinks.” She started to leave.
“No.” Clara stopped her. “Sit, this involves you.”
Rebecca’s perfectly manicured eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh?” She tilted her head but made no move to sit down.
“Yes, why don’t you have a seat?” Clara nodded to the spot next to her father.
Rebecca moved slowly but finally sat down across from them.
