Chapter 44
44
DEAN WALKER’S APARTMENT, DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN
Hayley had Dean’s laptop, her phone, her idea’s book and the Globe all set out on the breakfast bar, tapping at whichever appliance was going to give her the answers she needed.
‘I want to go and get the Christmas tree now,’ Angel announced, looking up from where she was brushing Randy.
‘Maybe when your Uncle Dean gets back, we can go and get it,’ Vernon suggested. He turned the page of the broadsheet he was reading and tapped the seat of the sofa next to him. Randy jumped up and sat down and Angel tracked his every move with a brush.
Hayley bit the pen in her mouth. Her mind wasn’t in this. It was still in a hospital room at St Patrick’s. What had happened there? How had things gone so wrong so quickly?
She turned her attention to the drawing in her ideas book. The Crystalline Hotel ballroom, a rough draft of how she envisaged it looking. She really had no idea how she was going to be able to coordinate this fundraiser in so short a time. So far, she had come up against every hurdle known to event managers. Things she wanted were out of stock, the chef was having issues no matter what she suggested and apparently balloons in New York didn’t come in platinum.
Her phone rang and she checked the display eagerly. Unknown number . Had she really been hoping for Oliver? After everything she’d told herself about him, she was still subconsciously hanging out for his call. She needed to wise up. She pressed to answer just as Randy let out an irritated yelp.
‘Hello.’
‘Hello, is that Miss Walker?’
She didn’t recognise the voice.
‘Yes, are you calling about the flowers?’
‘Er, no I?—’
‘You’re from the lighting company?’
‘No—’
‘The radio equipment company?’
‘I’m calling from the Fanway Gallery.’
‘Oh!’ Hayley’s eyes immediately went to Angel who was already scrutinising her. ‘Hello.’
‘I’m just responding to your call the other day. I’m afraid we’re not at all familiar with anyone by the name of Michel De Vos.’
Her heart sank for the second time that day but this time it went to basement level. Another dead end in the search. She was starting to think Michel had disappeared off the face of the planet. Daily Planet . Hypnotising hazel eyes . She needed fizzy wine. Bollinger . Why was her mind determined to crucify her?
‘Miss Walker?’ the caller asked.
‘Sorry, thank you for… for taking the time to call back,’ Hayley said. She ended the call, put the phone down and dropped her head with it. Why was everything so difficult?
‘Who was on the phone?’ Angel asked.
Hayley flipped her head up quickly, rubbing at her eyes. ‘Oh just some woman about the thingy for the fundraiser. ’
‘What thingy?’ Angel said, her attention now firmly away from the dog.
‘The…’ She had a list of things right in front of her. Why couldn’t she think of one single thing to say? ‘The… the…’
‘Table displays?’ Vernon offered, putting down his newspaper.
Hayley pointed at him. ‘Yes! Exactly that!’
‘Maybe I can help.’ Angel got to her feet and Randy jumped down from the sofa, walking to heel.
‘You’ve already done so much, Genius Kid,’ Hayley said, slipping an arm around Angel’s shoulders and pulling her in for a hug.
Angel got up onto the stool next to her and looked at what Hayley had on the screens of her devices. She began to read aloud.
‘ Oliver Richard Julian Drummond is the CEO of billion-dollar technology company, Drummond Global. He is the ?— ’
Hayley snapped down the lid of the laptop before Angel could say anything else.
‘ Michel De Vos, Argentina. Michel De Vos, Libya . He isn’t there, is he?’ Angel exclaimed, reading the screen of Hayley’s phone.
‘I don’t know where he is! That’s why I’m looking!’ She knew her voice was strained, but despite saying she was going to concentrate all her efforts on the fundraiser, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Oliver and the finding Michel issue.
‘ The McArthur Foundation – supporting parents, carers and sufferers. We are dedicated to enhancing the lives of the living and caring for the families who’ve lost.’
Hayley turned the Globe upside down so its screen was facing the marble of the breakfast bar.
‘Why were you reading about Mr Meanie?’ Angel asked.
Hayley shrugged. ‘Just getting some background information, that’s all.’
‘I wish Ben Drummond was still alive. He sounded way more fun,’ Angel remarked .
‘That’s not nice, Miss Meanie,’ Hayley told her.
‘Cynthia liked my idea of creating the menu around the favourite foods of the family members who died,’ Angel informed her, propping up her head with her hand.
‘She did?’ Hayley asked.
‘Yeah. She said Ben loved shrimp.’ Angel twirled her hair around her finger. ‘Some weeks, when he was my age, they had to have barbecue every day.’
Hayley thought about Oliver this morning. He’d looked in so much pain before the ambulance arrived. She’d had to help him into a T-shirt and jeans. He’d leant on her for support and then he kicked her to the kerb the second he was feeling better. What was that all about?
‘Can we go and get a tree now?’ Angel asked again, batting her eyelids.
‘What?’
‘Angel, listen, you let your mom get on with her work and I promise we’ll get the biggest tree that can fit in here, we’ll take Randy for a run round the park and I’ll shout us all waffles at Bernard’s,’ Vernon spoke up.
‘Waffles? With chocolate and honey and ice cream?’ Angel asked, turning her head to the man in the room.
‘Whatever you want,’ Vernon responded.
Hayley looked to him, catching his eye before mouthing a thank you.
Her phone made a bleep and her eyes shot to the screen.
Mother
Her eyes widened as she read the message, each word hitting like pins being poked into a newly designed dress. She thought this day couldn’t possibly get any worse. It just had. A lot worse.
I found your diary. Why are you trying to find that man?
Carly’s Coffee House, Downtown Manhattan
Dean was practically ashen with shock at the business news but had been surprisingly polite. Oliver had expected nothing short of animosity over what had happened at the hospital. He couldn’t believe Dean wouldn’t have an opinion on it – boss or no boss – so he could only conclude that Hayley hadn’t told him anything. Yet.
Regarding the business issue, Oliver had known deep down Dean would know nothing about it, but he’d had to check. He needed to be certain he could trust him with what came next.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Dean uttered, his hand shaking as he reached for his coffee cup.
‘Neither did I but there are photos and audio files.’
Dean cleared his throat. ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘I need you to come into the office with me and check all this out. There must be more evidence there.’ He paused. ‘I want to know everything about this relationship. I want to know how long it’s been going on, the extent of it, the damage it’s done and how we can rectify it all as quickly as possible without the company losing face.’
Dean nodded.
‘I’m going to be asking you to hack into personal accounts. Can you do that?’
‘Absolutely. You’re the boss. And, if this has been going on right under my nose then I have a personal interest in putting it right.’
Oliver smiled. ‘Thanks, Dean. ’
‘No problem.’ He smiled. ‘So, Hayley’s keeping pretty tight-lipped but… how was your date last night?’
Masking the feelings that were erupting like an active volcano, he reached for his coffee cup. Empty . A pang, like the snap of a rubber band, pinged in his chest. That was his confirmation that she hadn’t told her brother what a dick he’d been. So just what did he say to it? The truth? That it was one of the best nights of his life? Or the other truth? It was one of the best nights of his life which he’d fucked up to protect her?
He smiled, putting on the best performance he could manage. ‘You’ll have to ask her about it.’