Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Asher had seen wealth before, but this was ridiculous.
The Wright family estate sprawled along the Maine coastline like something out of a magazine—all weathered shingles and soaring windows that faced the rocky Atlantic coast. Luxury whispered from every corner, from the marble floors to the artwork that probably cost more than he’d make in a decade.
Cici had told him that her mother came from money, and this place reeked of generational wealth.
He’d known the Wrights were rich, but this…this was stratospheric.
Gavin Wright’s accusation still rang in Asher’s ears.
The words had hit like physical blows. Asher had been assigned to keep Cici safe, and she’d ended up zip-tied in a warehouse, bruised and terrorized, while he’d been unconscious at the bottom of a ravine.
Bartlett’s defense had been swift and professional, but it hadn’t erased the sting of truth from Gavin’s words.
Bartlett had been at the hotel that morning and insisted on meeting Asher before they came over here. Asher’d half expected to get fired.
But Bartlett had apologized, even going so far as to ask his forgiveness.
“We’ve lost a few long-standing clients,” he explained.
“I’ve been too focused on the bottom line.
When Cici was taken, when you were offering to get yourself killed to save her, I remembered what really mattered.
It wasn’t whether or not we could give bonuses this year, or even if we could keep the lights on.
My job is to make sure that the agents who trust me to have their backs stay just as safe as the clients. ”
“I should’ve asked for help,” Asher said.
“Not your job to ask for it,” Bartlett growled. “It’s my job to do what’s right, whether you like it or not.”
Asher was still coming to terms with all of that. What he knew was that he wasn’t perfect, but he’d done his best. And God had protected him and Cici despite all his mess-ups.
Now, as Asher stood in the cavernous living room taking in the opulent surroundings, he felt a little more of the weight dissolve away. Cici’s father was only worried about his daughter, evidenced now by the way he sat beside her, awkwardly holding her hand.
Cici needed that. She needed to know her dad would do anything for her.
The knowledge didn’t keep Asher from wishing he could squeeze himself in there.
Mrs. Wright returned with a tray filled with glasses of ice water. She carried the tray to Cici, who took a glass, then moved on to Asher, looking up at him with clear blue eyes that shimmered with tears.
He took a glass. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Asher. For Cici.” She sniffled, then shifted to the woman beside him. “I’m Evelyn Wright. Would you like some water?”
“Thanks.”
She took a glass, then Mrs. Wright set the tray on the coffee table and focused on Grant. “Would you introduce our guests, please?”
“Yes, ma’am. You met Asher last night.” He nodded to Bartlett. “My former boss, Clarence Bartlett.”
She shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Thank you for your part in bringing Cici home.”
Despite his wisdom and experience, Bartlett seemed a little flummoxed. Maybe it was Cici’s mother’s graciousness. Maybe it was her stunning beauty. Whatever the cause, Bartlett stammered, “Uh, sure. Of course.”
“And this is Detective Harris of the Philadelphia PD,” Grant said.
Mrs. Wright nodded to the woman who seemed even more out of place than Asher.
She wore a business suit that looked two sizes too small and had graying brown hair and no makeup, not to mention the deer-in-the-headlights shock that probably came from being ushered into a house that dripped money like rainwater.
“Ma’am,” Harris managed.
“Grab a seat.” Mom directed them into the living room.
Callan and Forbes dragged chairs in from the dining room, making a circle around the coffee table.
Asher took the one directly across from Cici. If he couldn’t hold her hand, then at least he could look at her, even if her bruises reminded him of his failure.
Detective Harris remained standing. She pulled a small notepad and pen from her bag.
“I was tasked to investigate Anthony Delvecchio’s murder, along with the fire and, we assumed, a theft, considering all the valuables in a jewelry store.
” Her gaze found Cici. “Surveillance videos confirm your story, Miss Wright. Wendall Gagnon and Gustavo Souza entered the store, then were seen running from the back a few minutes later, chasing you.”
“That’s a relief,” Cici said, though Asher doubted she’d been worried about the fact that she’d been a suspect.
“Gagnon and Souza are both dead,” Harris said. “The SD card’s been sent to the FBI.”
No one asked what that was about. They’d all heard the story by now, at least the important parts.
Harris flipped the page in her notebook.
“Talked to an agent at the Bureau this morning. They’re working with my department, searching Gagnon’s house.
They’ve called in somebody to open that safe he mentioned to you, Miss Wright.
They’re already watching the people he’d been blackmailing.
Maxwell Pierce is in custody—caught trying to run when he heard what happened. ”
Asher felt a grim satisfaction at that news. One less predator on the streets.
“How did he hear?” Gavin asked
“We assume from a guy named Falcone. He was apprehended last night, the only one who survived of the original team. The leader of what you called”—this time, she nodded to Asher—“the second team confirmed that they’d been commanded to kill everyone at the compound except Gagnon himself.
He claims they were told everyone on the premises were criminals.
He claims they thought they were working for law enforcement.
” By the twist of her lips, she wasn’t buying it.
Asher wasn’t, either. Good guys didn’t kill everyone in sight. That wasn’t how operations were meant to go, especially on US soil.
“They’re all in custody up in Augusta.” Harris smiled grimly. “I’m glad it’s not my jurisdiction.”
Bartlett cleared his throat. “One of the names on the SD card belongs to a general. Whatever Gagnon was blackmailing him with, it was enough to get him to send that military helicopter to rescue him last night.”
“Right,” Harris said. “He’s been arrested by MPs and is being held pending investigation.”
“Is Mr. D’s niece safe?” Cici asked.
“She is. She took our advice and left town. She’s been staying with a family member in Florida.
I notified her of Gagnon’s death this morning.
” Harris flipped another page in her notebook.
“I assume more arrests will come once all the evidence is cataloged. You’ll need to reach out to the Bureau for updates.
All to say, that SD card’s going to bring down a lot of criminals.
” She looked at Cici. “Credit where credit’s due, ma’am. ”
Cici waved off the praise, color rising in her cheeks. “I wasn’t trying to bring down criminals. I was trying to give Forbes back his family’s property.”
Forbes smiled at her from across the room. “Funny how that happens.”
“Oh, and by the way”—Cici focused on him—“Gagnon admitted to me that he’d been at your house the night of the murders.
He said Leo Taggart and Lois Stratton were in the room when your parents died, that Leo pulled the trigger—but Lois was just as involved—and that he’d been blackmailing them for years. ”
Forbes leaned forward, his expression intense. “Did he name any other names from that night?”
Cici shook her head. “Sorry, no. Just those two.”
Forbes was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Maybe it’s time to let the rest go. The main players were thieves and smugglers. The worst of them have paid for their crimes one way or another.”
“Speaking of paying…” Cici excused herself and headed upstairs, moving slowly. She held one hand against her ribs, and Asher’s stomach turned as if he were the one experiencing her pain.
The group made small talk and munched from a tray of snacks resting on the coffee table until Cici returned. She carried the small travel pack she’d bought at the sporting goods store what felt like a lifetime ago and handed it to Forbes.
He set it on his lap and opened it, then reverently lifted out the necklace that had started this whole nightmare. The Crimson Duchess caught the afternoon light, its diamonds and rubies gleaming like captured fire.
Forbes’s eyes looked watery when he gripped Cici’s hand. “You can’t know what this means to me.”
Brooklynn scooted closer, gazing at the jewelry with wonder before looking at Forbes with such love that Asher felt something twist in his chest.
Cici’s voice grew thick with emotion. “I wanted to do something that mattered.”
“You did.” Forbes’s voice was rough. “This matters to me. Not because it’s valuable, but because it was my mom’s.”
Asher felt a swell of pride wash over him for this incredible woman he loved.
He’d tried to convince himself she was shallow, that she was still that girl who’d casually humiliated him back in high school.
But she was so much more than that. She felt things deeply and wanted to change the world in her own beautiful way.
The bruises on her face would heal, but the courage she’d shown—stabbing Gagnon with a letter opener, warning Asher even when it meant taking a beating—that was who she really was. Strong. Selfless. Breathtaking.
He had no idea how they were going to make this work. Her father still looked at him like he was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. The wealth surrounding them felt like an ocean between their worlds.
But he loved her. And miracle of miracles, she loved him back.
Maybe that could be enough.
Detective Harris cleared her throat. “I think that covers everything from my end. There’ll be more questions and statements, but that can wait until you’re both feeling better.”
“Thank you, detective.” Gavin stood and scooted around the coffee table. “I’ll get someone to escort you out.”