Chapter 26 A Razor Through My Soul
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
A RAZOR THROUGH MY SOUL
Harlow
If I thought yesterday was an emotional rollercoaster, it has nothing on today.
Dad is sitting upright in bed at almost a full ninety degrees. A huge improvement. He’s still complaining about the food, but today he’s allowed more than Jello and broth. He choked down a cup of apple sauce and some yogurt and complained about every bite he took.
I don’t think he’ll be ready to run a marathon anytime soon—let’s be real, my father only powerwalks to his own beat. But to think about where he is now compared to the medically induced coma Janie paid someone to induce, he’s living his best life.
Speaking of Janie, an investigation is underway.
My father doesn’t just have an attorney—he has an entire team, and they are powerful.
They have contacts all over the country, have regular lunch dates with district attorneys, and play golf with high-level federal agents in the state of New York and beyond.
If Janie thought she was in trouble by my threats, it’s nothing compared to what my father has put into action. They are looking for her and questioning the medical staff that she hired.
My soon-to-be ex-stepmother.
So many exes lately.
Fine by me.
So far, Stonebridge has avoided a public relations nightmare and kept my father’s condition and whereabouts under wraps. That’s barely outside the walls of his closest confidantes.
Allen Foster is not enjoying his forced sabbatical. He’s doing everything he can to rally support for himself.
It worked, until about mid-morning. I received a call from the director of human resources. He removed all security access from Allen at Stonebridge. Allen was not having it and took advantage, trying to log in remotely under my father’s profile.
It shouldn’t surprise us. Allen has been by my father’s side for years.
Did I expect it?
Maybe.
Was I prepared for it?
Hell yes.
My father’s passwords were changed before Devon and I landed on the east coast yesterday.
The moment Allen pressed enter on the old password, corporate security, Chrissie—and therefore my dad—were alerted.
And that was that.
Allen Foster was officially fired from Stonebridge Capital. All he had to do was take a free vacation, but no.
Chrissie paces back and forth in the room as she sets up virtual meetings for Dad with the board to bring him up to speed.
This private hospital room isn’t huge. Devon brought Chrissie and I lunch a few hours ago, gave me a chaste kiss on the lips, told me he’d be in the waiting room working, and left.
I didn’t ask if he was working on things for the manor or making sure I don’t get shot at again. Both are big jobs.
She eventually flops into the chair on the other side of Dad’s bed and opens her laptop. “Okay, I’ve sifted through one month of old emails. I think I’ve gone over everything with you, Mr. Madison, but I do have one question. Who is Jett Cross?”
“I don’t know anyone by that name.” Dad picks up his water to take a sip before turning to me. “Do you?”
I shrug. “No. Is it someone from Stonebridge?”
Chrissie shakes her head. “No. There are multiple emails from him. He won’t say what he wants, just that it’s imperative he speak with you. I even found a few in your junk folder.”
“You’re going through his junk folder?” I ask. “See, Dad? She’s the best. If you steal her from me, I’m not sure what I’ll do. She deserves a raise.”
“I’m thorough,” she mutters around the pen that she’s biting between her teeth. “Wait, let me do a wide search and see if there are any more from him.”
She taps away on the keyboard before she hits enter.
Her eyes widen and she starts to scroll.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Who is he?” Dad demands.
Chrissie studies the screen before she lifts her fingers from the laptop.
“I ... I’m not sure how many are here, but it’s a lot.
And they date back more than seven months ago.
” Chrissie scrolls some more. “Holy shi—” She clears her throat.
“Sorry. Holy smokes. It looks like he was blocked and they were all filtered to your junk file.”
Dad leans back onto his pillow and looks like he may need a nap before his next bland meal. “I don’t know who that is, unless this is one thing I can’t remember from before. Does it say what he wants?”
“I’m skimming. This one is vague. Basically, he just wants to talk to you. The most recent one is from a couple weeks ago. Wow. Okay, in this one, he actually uses the words life and death.”
“Life and death.” I contemplate those tiny, yet meaningful, words. “They hit deeper than ever before. We probably should figure out what he wants.”
“Do that,” Dad orders. Chrissie picks up her phone and starts tapping on her screen as Dad keeps talking. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“You told me to find out who he is. I’m looking him up on Facebook. That’s how I find dirt on ninety-nine percent of people I’m curious about.”
Dad leans his head back and closes his eyes. “You work for me now. At least you do today. That means you have every resource at your fingertips. Call the head of security. They’ll figure it out.”
“Oh.” Chrissie turns to me and mouths OMG! before standing with her things. “Okay, I guess I’m off to make friends with the head of corporate security since they have no clue who I am. I’ll go back to my hotel room and get that done.”
I get up and move to Dad’s side to pull the covers up around him as Chrissie leaves. “You’ve overdone it today. You need to rest.”
Dad peeks up at me through tired eyes. “I need to go home.”
“You will,” I promise. “I’ll work on that tomorrow. I’m going to make sure you have all new staff at the penthouse and make sure Janie doesn’t have access. Are you sure you want to go back? I can arrange for you to go somewhere else.”
He shakes his head. “That woman tried to take everything from me. The penthouse has been my home since I made my first big acquisition after I started Stonebridge. It’s where your mother and I made a life together and where we brought you home from the hospital. I’m going back.”
“I just wanted to offer, but I’m glad. There are so many memories there—good and hard ones. I don’t care how long Janie has been there, I still see Mom everywhere in that place.”
He grips my hand and looks up at me through remorseful eyes. “I was never the same after we lost her. Getting tied up with Janie was the worst thing I ever did for you. I’m so sorry, Harlow.”
“Stop. You moved on like you should have. None of this is your fault. Take a nap. You’ll have a buffet of soft, bland foods waiting on you for dinner. Maybe you’ll get mashed potatoes this time.”
He groans. “You need to bust me out of here before I die from a lack of flavor in my diet.”
“No one is dying,” I bite. “No one.”
Devon
Istare out the only window of the waiting room onto the parking lot as I process updates from home.
“Malloy is still in ICU, but my contact told me he’s been upgraded to stable,” Dean says.
“Don’t you Americans have this thing called HIPAA?” I ask. “How do you know that?”
“I didn’t say I read his medical file,” Dean drawls.
“I said I had a contact. I might’ve left for a decade, but I grew up here and have more family in Winslet than I can count.
My sister is a nurse in the ICU and is happy to keep me updated.
Happy is an understatement given the number of texts she sends, and I didn’t even ask her to do it.
Let’s just say a gunshot victim in Winslet is somewhat of an anomaly .
.. and something of a scandal. And there’s nothing Winslet likes more than new gossip material.
They’ve been getting it in spades lately between this and your new bedmate. ”
I ignore that last part.
“Speaking of the billionaire princess, no one has seen her since the shooting. Are you keeping her locked up in your creepy-ass castle?”
“There’s nothing creepy about my manor—at least not anymore. I spent millions to make sure of that. And, no, she’s not locked up anywhere. We’re out of town for a couple of days. She has family business to take care of, and I’m making sure she’s safe while doing so.”
“Family business,” Dean echoes. “I suppose that hits different when you’re a Madison.”
I couldn’t agree more as my mind goes back to our time on the flight here. “When can you question Malloy?”
“He may be stable, but he’s still in the ICU.
They get finicky about anyone interfering with care .
.. all that shit. Once he gets moved to a regular room, I should be able to make contact.
He’d be an idiot to talk. I doubt you want me to bring up his connection to Turner.
That will ruin any work you’re doing on your end.
” He stresses his next words. “Work that I know nothing about, by the way. Not one fucking thing.”
“Ignorance is bliss,” I mutter as I pull my cell away from my ear to check the notification.
Ozzy.
And since he doesn’t pretend to be ignorant to anything, I need to take this call.
“Let me know when your sister has any more gossip to share, and I’ll let you know when we’re on our way back to town. I’ve got another call about shit you know nothing about.”
“Fuck, Donnelly. It’s like you’re determined to take me down with you into early retirement.”
I smile. “I do need a new pool boy. The female guests would love you. Hell, some of the men would too.”
“Kiss my firm, Italian ass,” he bites right before the line goes dead, which is fine by me.
I press go on Ozzy. Like usual, he barely gives me a chance to greet him. “Are you monitoring the tap?”
I turn back to where my things are strewn over three stiff chairs. It seems like this place sees as much action as the Winslet Community Hospital. “I’ve been on a call. Did it just happen?”
“Just now. And this is different than what we’ve seen before. No text or direct messages. They’re talking, and you know what that means.”