by Ellie Danes
“For you? What it means for you? What about Cain? He could go to jail, Dad, for something he didn’t do!”
“So he sent you in here to beg me for help?” His sneer was apparent. “This guy is going to need a whole team of attorneys, if the evidence keeps stacking up against him.”
“No! Cain did not ask me to come in here. As a matter of fact, he’d be pissed if he knew I was in here asking for help.” I stood, ticked off, ready to storm out. “Never mind! I’ll figure it out myself. You know,” I paused at the door, “I know I’ve disappointed you in the past, maybe rightfully so. That hurt, not being close to you anymore, not spending time with you, but I always believed you wanted what was best for me, Dad, that you cared. I’m asking you for help because Cain is what is best for me. He is not Christopher. He is a good man. Someone you would like, if you just gave him a chance.” I sniffed and opened the door.
“Is that it? You come in here, shoot off at the mouth, turn on some waterworks and then leave? I never thought he killed Alice; do we even know she was murdered? I want you to prove to me—give me proof—that he’s not involved in this security crap.”
I closed the door again, ignoring Cynthia’s concerned countenance. “Fine. You want proof? I just left a one-on-one with Hunter Livingstone, an IT guy from Vawter. He recanted his earlier statement. He claims Dylan told him to keep his mouth shut or else. Hunter has all the records we need to prove Dylan was behind everything that was going on there.” I clutched my notebook to my chest defiantly.
“Why the hell didn’t you say this to begin with?” Dad was back in his chair, back in legal mode. “Don’t poke your chin out at me. Get Reese in here. Where’s this Hunter kid? I need to talk to him myself. Let’s make sure he’s legit. Where’s Parker now?”
“He just left the police station, he was headed home.” I thought about how badly I wanted to be there with him, helping him through this.
Dad reached for the phone. “Cynthia, send Thomas McAleer in here now.” He hung up the phone. “I’ll have Thomas contact Parker. Make sure he doesn’t do—or say—anything stupid. That’s is the last thing we need. Does he have any idea where Rogers is?”
“Not that I’m aware of. No one has heard from him since the other day.”
“Well, if you do, or anyone else does, let me know right away.”
I lingered in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. “Alright.” I paused, staring at Dad.
“Thank you.”
He fixed his blue-gray eyes on me. “You’re welcome, but I’m not promising anything. Now, get moving. I want to see you and Reese in here in five minutes, and find out where that kid is…and Jennifer…”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“Be careful, and remember what happened to his last girlfriend.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
For the rest of the day I waited to hear from Cain, but five o’clock came and went with no word—at all. I anxiously packed up and headed home, only to be stopped by Reese halfway across the office.
“Forgetting something?” I knew exactly what he was talking about and smiled.
“No, Ted, the intern, agreed to walk me to my car.” I continued to the lobby to meet my escort. As we approached my car, I checked around it and looked in the back seat. I’d seen the scenario play out on the movie screen before—crazy person pops up from the back during a routine car ride. Waving goodbye to Ted, I skittered out of the parking garage. I had sent Aimee a text message about fifteen minutes before, inviting her over for some girl time. I missed her company; a lot had happened in a short amount of time and I needed to fill her in and spill my guts to someone sympathetic.
Aimee finally texted back: See you in 20! :)
I scrambled into my apartment, looking around nervously as I stood in front of my door. Everything appeared in order and I felt a sigh of relief leave my body. I ordered a pizza and raced to the shower. The hot water felt great but didn’t melt my worries away; I missed Cain. My phone sat close by, on the side of the sink, in case he decided to call. I wanted to give him the space he’d requested, but I wanted to call to see he was Ok. The only other person who might know something was Ashley, and there was no way I was calling her. Like a robot, I dried off, grabbed some shorts and a shirt and tentatively combed the tangles out of my hair.
I padded down the hall to the kitchen, phone still in hand, and half-heartedly opened a bottle of wine to calm my nerves further. I heard a light tap on the door and I checked the peephole before welcoming my friend inside.
“Aimee!” I hugged her, took the bag she held out to me, and led her to the kitchen. She’d picked up something that smelled deliciously garlic and buttery—probably Tarrant’s chicken wings. I unloaded the bag, opening the containers of wings and spicy meatballs, and put them on the table, along with some wine for her.
“How is the wonderful Tom?” It seemed only right to give her a chance to share, because I planned on pouring my heart out to her.
“Trust me, that’s on its way out, and right now it’s nothing I want to talk about.” Aimee didn’t appear as unhappy as the news sounded.
“I’m sorry to hear that, what happened?” It was good to focus on someone else’s problems, if only for a while; it was a selfish gesture, but I welcomed the distraction.
Aimee filled me in on the details and abruptly switched topics. “Alright, I want to hear all about you and that sexy millionaire you’re dating, but let me run to the ladies’ room for a second. Top me up, okay?” As I poured her chardonnay, I wondered where I should start; with the break-in, or our first night together, or maybe all of the other drama consuming my life? I heard a tap on the door and grabbed my wallet to pay the pizza guy.
“Twenty-two fifty, right?” I asked as I swung open the door and thumbed through my wallet.
“Hello, Jennifer.” Dylan looked unkempt, like he hadn’t shaved or showered in a few days.
I froze and stared at him, slowly backing into my apartment without saying a word.
Dylan walked past me like he owned the place. He had his hands in his pockets, and my first thought was that he was possibly hiding a weapon; I didn’t know what his intentions were. I glanced around the apartment and noticed Aimee hadn’t returned. I stood with my back to the front door, forcing Dylan to face me.
“Nothing to say to Cain’s best friend? I’ve been watching how cozy you two are getting, I must say, I’m a little embarrassed for you…I mean, right there on the balcony?” He chuckled in a low voice; I took a step back, feeling the blood drain from my face. “Now, now. This isn’t the time to play shy with me. I know very well what kind of wildcat you really are.”
I wanted to slap that smirk off his face but I was aware that I—and my friend—were in real danger. “What do you want, Dylan? Surely you didn’t come here to tell me you’re a peeping Tom?” Easy, Jennifer. Don’t force him act even crazier.
“You know, despite your willingness to be used and abused by Cain Parker, I think you and I could have a future together…but I don’t do leftovers, at least not anymore.” He walked around my living room, staring at my pictures. “You know, Jennifer, you remind me a lot of Rachel. So trusting. So willing to be the great Cain Parker’s plaything. That didn’t work out too well for her though, did it? I tried to tell her.” The look he gave me reminded me of an interview I had to watch for psychology class; the subject had been a serial killer. “Cain was her undoing, really. I warned her to leave him alone. He wasn’t worthy of her love, but then Cain has a way of hurting the people he loves. I was with her the night she died; I bet you didn’t know that. She wasn’t supposed to be driving that car; it was Cain’s. But she did. I begged her to get out, but Rachel was a stubborn woman…” I felt my stomach twist. Oh my God! Did he just admit that he had something to do with Rachel’s death?
My head spun at what I was hearing. The butterflies in my stomach churned as I realized I was potentially standing just feet away from a killer.
“Did he ever tell you
how his father died?” An evil smirk crawled across Dylan’s face.
“No,” I answered, my mind racing. I tried to slow my thoughts, to plan my side of the discussion.
“You should ask him. It’s quite an interesting story. He was like a father to me, old man Parker. Well, until he died and left everything to Cain. He got all the money, all the property and of course, all of Rachel…and now he has you.”
“That must have hurt you deeply,” I slowly moved to the sofa and sat, pretending to be interested in what Dylan had to say. I just wanted him to keep talking. I eyed the doorway to the bathroom and noticed it was open, the light off. “Tell me about that.”
He laughed a little. “Ah, I’m being profiled? Well, why not? I enjoyed all our previous conversations. Before I get started, I should mention I heard about what happened at Vawter—the break in. That’s a shame. I hope no one was hurt.”
“I’m surprised to hear that you care, Dylan. You scared Ashley half to death and left your friend to answer a lot of questions. Was it you that broke in here, too? Did you take my laptop?” I felt myself pushing the limit with Dylan, but the question made more sense now, given the side he was showing.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dylan stepped towards me. “I never broke in here. I’ve had bigger fish to fry than some half-ass law school dropout who wants to be Cain’s whore! Just wait, the best is yet to come.”
I raised my arm to shield myself, suspecting that he would hit me, but the doorbell rang. He moved to the door and swung it open. A fresh-faced delivery boy stood there with a pizza box in his hand, smiling. Dylan swore under his breath and pushed past him. “And Jennifer, in case you need me, I won’t ever be too far away.” Dylan kept moving down the stairs and out of sight.
I sank into the couch as Aimee raced into the room.
“Oh my god! Are you okay? Who the hell was that lunatic? What is going on here?”
I waved at the door. “Here, give him this.”
She paid the pizza guy and set the boxes on the table.
“Let’s call the police!” Aimee was almost crying.
I put my emotions aside for a moment to take care of her. “It’s okay. He’s gone now. I don’t think he’ll be back.”
“Are you Ok, Jen? I heard the commotion from the bathroom, I just waited and listened. He sounded… angry, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“I’m fine, but I need to call Cain and work. I need to tell them what just happened. They are never going to believe me.”
“Yes they will.” Aimee held her phone out and Dylan’s voice started mid-sentence.
“…Now, now. This isn’t the time to play shy with me…”
Her dimples appeared as she gave me her kittenish smile. “I recorded your whole conversation.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I quickly picked up my phone and dialed Cain’s number. It went to voicemail immediately and I hung up. I sent a text, hoping he would see it sooner. Cain, call me ASAP. I have news!!!
I dialed my father and reached his voicemail as well. My last try was Reese.
“Jennifer, I was just going to call you.” He sounded as if he were in a rush. “Cain’s in…”
“Reese, Dylan was just here. He… what? Cain’s where?”
“In jail. Is Dylan still there? Are you Ok?
“No…yes…” My head was spinning, and our conversation was a verbal game of ping-pong that I couldn’t keep up with. “Reese, why is Cain in jail? He’s supposed to be at home.”
“The police picked him up, extortion and the murder of Alice Bennett. Your father and Thomas are with him now.”
As I listened to Reese I frantically ran around the apartment looking for my purse, keys, and shoes. “Reese, I’m on my way down there.”
“No! You stay there! He doesn’t need you down here causing a scene. You stay there until we hear something. Your father said he would call you later.”
I stopped scurrying around the apartment as the seriousness of the situation sank in. My visit from Dylan seemed to pale in comparison to what Cain was going through.
“Jennifer, why was Dylan there? What happened?”
“Reese, I’m Ok. I need to process what’s going on. I have some news that is going to help Cain and we can talk about it tomorrow. Dylan confessed to some things.”
“Alice’s murder?”
The question sank in and I realized that Dylan was definitely capable. “No, but I wouldn’t put it past him…let me know the second you hear anything from Dad.”
“You got it.” Reese hung up.
Aimee looked at me. “So…what’s going on?” I filled her in as we sat on the couch together. I couldn’t help but cry.
“I’m staying with you tonight. You won’t be alone. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”
“Thank you, Aimee.”
She gave me a rueful smile. “It’s kind of my fault anyway, right? I mean, I’m the one that told you to start dating. Although, I must admit, I didn’t mean date an extremely attractive yet complicated mogul.”
We both laughed a little and I went in pursuit of pajamas, a pillow and a blanket. Aimee and I finished the bottle of wine and I tottered off to bed. I faced a long night of tossing and turning, thinking about the future—Cain’s future. I thought about Alice Bennett, the woman who lost her life, probably through a wicked plot conceived in someone’s sick mind—but not Cain Parker’s. I finally fell asleep with the ghoulish vision of Dylan in my living room behind my eyelids and wondered what would have happened if the pizza guy hadn’t “saved” me.
At about two in the morning my phone rang and I grabbed it without even looking at the screen. “Hello? Hello?”
“Jennifer, I just left Cain. He’ll be held until sometime tomorrow. He’s okay, but I want to meet first thing in the morning.” Dad hung up. Not even a “How are you doing?” or “It’s going to be Ok.” Just a click.
Sometime after, I passed out again, dreaming of Cain lost in a jungle. I woke up hoping everything that had happened was a bad dream. I threw the covers back and sauntered down the hall, finding Aimee had already left. I found a note from her, assuring me that everything was going to be okay. I tapped the coffee pot, turning it on, and then trudged back to my room to start the long day ahead. I got to work early, coffee in hand. I noticed that Aimee had emailed me a copy of the recording. I love you, Aimee!
Dad and Reese were already in the office. Reese looked as though he had slept there—not Dad, though. At some point, he had found the time to shave and put on a fresh, starched shirt; I could see the dark circles underneath his eyes, though. I was grateful that they had been there for Cain, whatever their reasons.
Dad waved me into a chair and shut the door. “Good morning. We haven’t heard anything new, but I spoke with Jeffrey Ballard, the chairman of the board for Vawter. Cain had me call him. He’ll be here this morning so we can fill him in.”
I couldn’t help but cut to the chase of my real concern. “Dad, how was Cain? How was he holding up?”
“He was fine, Jennifer. He’s strong. Listen, when Ballard gets here, let me do the talking, and please, no mention of your relationship with Cain. We don’t need to complicate anything.” Dad’s stern look and order didn’t surprise me and I nodded my agreement.
“You heard about last night?” I looked at Reese for an indication he had filled my father in. Dad nodded. “Well, I’ve got some good news…” I told them about the encounter with Dylan and played the recording. Reese clapped his hands together and my dad graced me with a rare smile.
“I’m not looking for an ‘I-told-you-so’ here, but come on guys… I told you so. Cain isn’t guilty, it’s Dylan!”
Reese laughed out loud and Dad raised his hand. “I’ll be the first to say you were right in this instance.” I smiled; that was as good as it got with my dad. It was hardly an apology, but I took it as one.
“Let’s not celebrate yet. Ballard’s on the way, along with Cain’s assistant
, to hear the latest. I’m glad we have something to offer them besides quoting a few legal statutes. I’ll see you in the boardroom in fifteen minutes.”
Vawter’s chairman didn’t waste any time getting to the heart of the matter. “We like Cain—there wouldn’t be a Vawter without the Parkers for goodness’ sake—but…” Jeffrey Ballard looked more like a mild-mannered shopkeeper than a powerful COB. “We can’t make business decisions based on likeability. These are some serious charges here, and unfortunately everything points to Cain.”
Ashley fumed at the end of the table but held her tongue. It was only a courtesy that she was here at all; she had no influence.
“Wait a second, Mr. Ballard.” My father’s commanding voice halted the other man in his tracks. “We have information that you are not aware of. It’s a recording, if you would indulge us for a minute or two. We’d like you to hear it.”
“Certainly, I would.” Ballard looked surprised but could hardly say no.
Dad gave me a nod. I tapped on the email, opening the recording. I turned up the volume and placed the tablet on the table. The gathering looked horrified as Dylan threatened me and intimated that he had caused the death of Rachel Murant. Ashley began to quietly cry; I dug in my purse for tissues and discreetly handed them to her.
When it was over, nobody moved for a minute. Jeffrey Ballard was obviously shaken. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention. This definitely changes things. How do we move forward?”
“Well, the first thing I would suggest you do is get Mr. Parker out of jail, so we can further discuss everything with him.”
“Agreed. Please, Jack, do whatever you need, you have my permission to move forward.”
“Second, I’d suggest we turn this recording and the logs we have from Hunter Livingstone over to the police as soon as possible. That will give them more than enough to go after Dylan Rogers and take the heat off of Mr. Parker.”
