81. Chapter 81
Chapter eighty-one
Gabe
I ’m still standing in my apartment office with Blake when Reid sends me a text: Where are you? I’m stuck outside in the zoo of the press at Cat and Reese’s building.
I curse. “I forgot to tell Reid we changed locations,” I say, texting him back: We diverted to avoid the press. We’re at my place.
He calls me. “We need to talk alone,” he says. “Meet me at Mac’s bar down the road. Fifteen minutes?”
“I’m bringing Blake. He has something you need to hear.”
“Of course he does. Bring him and his load of crap to share. I have my own.” He disconnects and I shove my phone into my pocket. “Reid met with Jean Claude. Now we’re meeting Reid. He wants to talk. Alone.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
I don’t comment. My brother has a way of getting things done, much like my own way—and it’s not always gentle. “We’re meeting Reid to do interview prep, the end. Leave it at that. I don’t want to lie to Abbie, but I need her to focus on being ready for that interview, not what we have going on.”
“I get it, man,” Blake confirms. “I’m married. I love my wife. Prep work isn’t a lie. We’re trying to solve the murder. That’s the best prep work that exists.”
It’s not a lie , I repeat in my head, because I don’t need lies adding to the shit she will eventually find out about me. It’s inevitable. I know it. “I need to let Abbie know I’m leaving.”
“I’ll head to the door and wait for you downstairs.”
I nod and follow him out of the office and down the hallway. The minute we round the corner, stepping into the living area, we find Reese, Cat, and Abbie working there, not in the dining room. Blake tucks his chin and charges a path toward the front door. The room seems to follow his movement, and I step to the chair where Abbie’s sitting, with Reese and Cat to her left, side by side on the couch.
“How are things?” I ask, brushing red curls from her grass-green eyes. Such expressive, beautiful eyes.
“You tell me,” she says, catching my hand. “How are things?”
Better with you in my life , I think, but I say, “Blake is knee deep in research. He’s got me looking at some random data related to my father.” It’s not what I’d planned to say, but in this moment, it feels closer to the truth.
“What kind of data?”
“I’ll let you know when I know,” I say. “Stay here. Focus. We’re meeting Reid at Mac’s and we’ll see if either of us can make heads or tails of anything Blake knows. You need to get ready for the interview.”
“She does,” Reese agrees. “We’re just getting started. Ready, Abbie?”
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t look at him. She looks at me and lowers her voice, a soft whisper, that while easily overheard is intimate in its delivery. “Is everything okay? Is this about that meeting earlier?”
“Yes,” I say. “But I know nothing. I’ll text you. Okay?”
“This is a good time for another promise.”
“I promise.” I squeeze her hand. “I hate leaving you, but I need to go and you need to focus.” I lift her hand and kiss it. “I won’t be long.” I push to my feet and I can feel my sister’s eyes on me. She’s stunned by my show of affection, with good reason. Abbie’s changed me. She keeps changing me.
Focused on getting back, I head for the door and I don’t look back. As promised, Blake is waiting on me downstairs and one of his drivers is waiting on us. Fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting in a round corner booth with my brother and Blake, each of us slowing nursing a whiskey.
“I have good and bad news,” Reid starts out. “I met with Jean Claude. He pointed out the obvious. That Abbie’s ex was trying to buy the property and then ended up dead. That makes Abbie a big target for the police.”
“So does a red wig and a set-up,” I bite out. “And that sounds like a threat.”
“It is,” Reid replies. “He went on to suggest that if Abbie sells him the shelter property now, at a reasonable price, she won’t look as guilty.”
“Of course, he did,” I say dryly. “And you said what?”
“I got him to up his offer ten percent. Any higher and it still might look like Abbie had the motivation to remove her ex from the picture to get a better offer from Jean Claude.”
“Unfortunately,” Blake says, “I have to agree. Any big payout makes them both look guilty. Like they colluded perhaps beyond the payout for the property. Will Abbie make the deal?”
“She’ll take it,” I say. “And I’ll make sure the animals find a home.”
“We’ll make sure the animals have a home,” Reid corrects. “She can make this the company’s first big charity operation.”
“Count Walker in as well, if you need us,” Blake offers.
“And just to be transparent,” Reid says, “Jean Claude offered Abbie a replacement property for the shelter. I declined. You don’t want to be in debt to Jean Claude but Abbie needs to know. He’ll bring it up to her if he gets the chance.”
“She wants out of this,” I say. “She’ll walk away.”
“What about the murder?” Blake asks. “What did he have to say about who killed Abbie’s ex?”
“He didn’t do it,” Reid says. “I believe him.”
“Why?” Blake demands. “Why trust a man like that?”
Reid’s jaw clenches and he cuts his stare before he looks at Blake, before he tells him what I already know. “I did legal work for that man for years. I saw how he operated. There are things he could use against me. He has no reason to lie to me. And he wouldn’t kill someone by way of a hitman. He’s too smart for that. He’d make it look like an accident. I know. Believe me. I know.”
“Were you a part of these accidents?” Blake asks, his eyes pure steel.
“No,” Reid replies. “I was with him through my father. I parted ways with him when I knew how deep the shit ran, but I’m too connected to him to cut ties completely. Bottom line,” he looks between me and Blake, “he needs Abbie alive and well to look good to the police and she needs him for the same reasons. Outside of that, and pertinent in all ways, he suggested the killer might be someone close to her ex, and with a personal agenda. Perhaps someone who knew Kenneth stole from him and thought he’d be pleased that Kenneth was dead.”
“And is he?” Blake asks.
“No,” Reid replies. “Police attention displeases him. The question now is: who had the most to benefit from Kenneth’s death.”
“I told him about the development,” Blake says, looking at me and then glancing at Reid. “What you don’t know is that your father took over Kenneth’s role in that project when he died.”
“And stands to benefit ten million dollars,” I add.
“I’m not surprised,” Reid says. “I’d already mentally gone there. Jean Claude never said his name to me but he told me to quote ‘get your fucking house in order or I will.’ He went on to say that anyone who brings him legal trouble won’t be around long. We have to handle our father, or he will.”
I look between them. “So just to be clear. We believe that our father killed Kenneth for money?”
“Yes,” Reid and Blake reply at the same time.
“And I now have to tell Abbie that my father killed her ex-husband and framed her for the murder.” I scrub my jaw. “How do I make this right with her?” I ask them because asking myself has gotten me nowhere.
“By putting him in jail for the murder,” Blake suggests. “That gets rid of him for Jean Claude and keeps him alive.” He glances at Reid. “Is that good enough for Jean Claude?”
“It might be,” Reid says. “But we’ll have to prove he did the crime. I have no doubt we can get him to admit it while we record him, but that’s going to punch the company in the mouth. He founded the firm. We’ll be the sons of a killer. Everyone we love will be stalked by the press. Our employees will be affected. We need to all step back and think about this before we take action.”
“Before I do anything, I need to tell Abbie,” I say. “You know what she’s going to think. It’s inevitable. Will I be just like my father? Am I just like my father?” I run a hand through my hair. “Hell, maybe I even told her that I’m just like my father when I wanted to scare her off. I can’t fucking remember.” I look at Reid. “I needed better news than this. Why the hell didn’t you bring me better news?” My voice is low and taut, my words for his ears only.
He leans closer. “You aren’t going to lose Abbie. I didn’t lose Carrie and I shared every dirty little secret I own.”
Because Carrie loves him. Because she already loved him when our bastard father went after her and us. I stand up. “I need to think.” I’m walking by the time I finish that sentence and I don’t look back. I just hope like hell that’s not what Abbie does when she hears just how bad, bad gets with my father, with my family. With me. Hell, because that’s where this is leading. I’ll have to tell her everything. Before my father tells her for me. It needs to be my story, told my way, with my explanation.
Fabulous.
Fucking fabulous.
I not only have to tell her that my father killed her ex-husband and framed her. I have to tell her about Kendall.