Here Comes Trouble (23 page)

“I’d have thought given your standing these days you’d have enough money to buy your own beach house instead of taking advantage of your family.”

“My standing?” Malcolm asked. “Oh, you mean my position as CEO of TIN?”

Chadwick froze.

Man, this day just kept getting better. “Come on, Dad. We can let each other off the hook now. It’s done. Oliver Technologies is mine. You’re out of a job. You know what you know, I know what I know.”

“What do you think you know?”

“Besides the fact you forged Ty’s signature on that contract five years ago?” He nodded as Chadwick’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I know you authorized surveillance on my company over the last five years. And that you ignored a stock buyout that changed the ownership of Oliver Technologies. Oh, and you neglected to inform your shareholders that the company was losing its value. Then there’s the fact that you sold off your stock without any consideration as to who—”

“What kind of fool do you take me for?” Chadwick said with a hint of derision in his voice. “I knew exactly who was buying us out and you’re welcome to it. All those subsidiary companies you thought were so secret? Honestly, Malcolm. You never did see beyond your own interests. And those stockholders, as you call them, were stupid for staying on after you were out of the picture. The only thing that’s kept the company afloat is the money I’ve made from that damned water system of yours, and now that’s run dry.”

“And Gran and Ty? Were they idiots as well?”

“They’ll both be fine.” Chadwick dismissed his question. “She has the house, Ty has his inheritance from her. They won’t hurt for long.”

The idea he’d been sired by this callous, sociopathic—for want of a better term—man, made his skin crawl. “That money you made from Worthington didn’t go as far as you thought it would, did it? Had some trouble without me?”

“I got enough out of it.”

“What’s that?” Malcolm walked over to the window he’d left slightly open, fragments of a broken vase scattered over the floor.

“What’s what?” His father dropped out of sight so fast Malcolm wondered if he’d managed to give the old man a heart attack. As Malcolm stepped farther into the room he saw his father pluck up a small white gift card from the remnants of the vase.

“Well?”

“Nothing.” Chadwick crumpled the card in his fist, but not before the gold embossed
“N”
and
“thank you”
glinted in the early afternoon sun. “It’s nothing. You can leave now.”

“Cops or not, I’m not going anywhere until I know Gran’s house is secure. What happened to the security system? I did a walk-around and saw some of the wires had been cut—” Okay, so he’d cut the wires after Nathan disabled the system remotely. One little snip of a green wire in just the right place . . . “Oh, got it. I’m not here.” Malcolm rolled his eyes as his father pulled out his phone. “I’ll just—” His father waved him out of the room and slammed the door.

He was back in the porch chair an hour later when Chadwick emerged from the house, carrying one of the crates. “Shall we discuss things further?” Malcolm asked and wondered if at some point in the last five years he’d become invisible, given how little interest Chadwick had in looking at him. “Or are we all settled now?”

His father glared at him as he loaded the first crate into the car, then repeated the process with the other two, working up a profuse sweat by the time he was finished.

“You got what you came for,” his father said as he opened the driver door. “You got the company you always wanted, you showed me up, which I’m sure will be front-page headlines in what . . . a week or so?”

“Sounds about right.”

“Then I guess you don’t have anything left to stick around for, do you? Except Sheila Tremayne, of course. How she let herself get involved with you again I’ll never understand, but well, there’s the female sensibility for you. And no doubt you’ve made up with your brother by now. I did anticipate that, and while your grandmother’s enjoyed your visit, I think it’s time for you to go back to San Francisco. Before I do something you’ll regret. Oh, wait.” Chadwick snapped his fingers, narrowed his eyes and gave Malcolm such a sickly devious smile Malcolm found it hard to swallow. “Never mind. I already did.”

***

“Do you have any idea why our presence has been requested?” Malcolm asked Sheila as she shifted in her seat to unhook her belt.

“Morgan just said to be at the center by four.” Given the way Sheila had been pinballing between the office, the center, and home the last few days, Wednesday had arrived in the blink of an eye and with it, the excitement and anxiety that accompanied a Nemesis job. That Malcolm and Ty were acting like brothers as well as colleagues seemed to have lifted a weight off Malcolm.

She could hope he was going to change his mind about staying. Surely he had to see he belonged in Lantano Valley, that he had people who cared about him, beginning but not ending with her. Not that they’d broached the subject.

She wasn’t that brave. Yet.

“Looks like we aren’t the only ones who have been summoned.” Malcolm gestured to the growing crowd of familiar faces where the gravel construction parking lot had been days before.

“Oh.” Sheila gasped as she looked out the window. Adrenaline surged through her body. “Oh, Malcolm. It’s done.” She jumped out of the car, unable to tear her eyes away from the lush lawn bordering the cement walk leading to the main entrance of the center. She held out her hand, bouncing on the balls of her feet when he seemed to be taking his time, and heard him chuckle as she pulled him behind her, clutching their clasped hands to her chest. “Everything’s falling into place. Levia’s painting—thank you for confirming that—knowing the others will be where they belong soon, and now this. After all these years—oh, I wish Mom were here to see this.”

“Maybe she can.”

“Maybe.” Sheila nodded, and loved him for saying it.

The smooth walkway led off to various paths, to gentle sloping water features to the west, to a serenity and rock garden surrounded by recently planted Japanese Maples. They wound around to the back, where a collection of picnic areas were situated, complete with permanent barbeques and cordoned-off soccer nets. In the distance she saw a dark-green clubhouse-style building marked “Sporting Equipment and Supplies” that was the perfect accompaniment to the completed entertainment facility.

Lights flashed from inside the glass building, testifying to the arcade and video games housed inside, but at the heart of everything was the three-story building that would serve as hope for ill children and their families.

“You guys did good.”

She glanced over and found Malcolm taking everything in, his lips curving. “You’ll help so many here. All the Colins and Brandons possible. You’ll have made a difference, Sheila.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

Her chest tightened, hearing an unspoken good-bye in his words, but she couldn’t voice the question, the fear that reality would set in and he’d be leaving. “I’m not sure we could have gotten here without you,” was what she managed, and because she hoped it would say everything else she meant.

He pulled her into his arms and she buried her face in his chest, unable to stop herself from saying, “I don’t want you to go.”

His entire body went tight, like she’d coiled a spring with her words.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Sheila, please.” But he hugged her tighter and forced the breath from her lungs. “Don’t make me regret what we’ve had by asking me to do what I can’t.”

“But you can stay. There’s no reason you can’t.”

“Yes, there is.” He caught her face in his hands and forced her to look into his eyes. “Believe me when I say there is a reason. There’s nothing you can do to change my mind. It is what it is.” He pressed his lips to hers.

“Then I’ll come with you.”

She watched the color drain from his face and deep inside, her heart fractured.

His eyes went cold, his arms stiffened. “No.”

“But—”

“I said no, Sheila.” And yet he looked as if she’d fired a shot directly into his chest. “I’m not staying and you’re not coming with me. End of conversation.”

Spots flashed before her eyes as her throat tightened.

“Okay, enough private time, you two.” Morgan came bounding down the path, looking like the enthusiastic fifteen-year-old Sheila remembered so well. “What do you think? Huh? Isn’t it—”

Sheila felt her lips tremble. “I’m so proud of you.” She grabbed her sister into a hug and held on. How could she feel as if things were falling into place at the same time her heart was breaking? “Mom would be, too.”

“Thanks. And you two.” Morgan aimed shifty eyes at each of them. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Malcolm, that check allowed us to bring in an extra crew to complete the landscaping in time for the gala. And wait until you see the magic your guys worked on the entertainment facility.”

“Open for business as planned?”

“January first.” Morgan nodded and squeezed Sheila tighter. “I had Gina update the foundation’s website. Come on. Dad’s popping the champagne.”

“Who didn’t you invite?” Sheila asked as Morgan dragged her and Malcolm by the arms up to the rose garden outlining the front entrance to the center. It was then Sheila saw the three beautifully polished benches and the brass plaques welded into the slats. One for their mother, one for Colin, and the third . . . for Brandon.

“Sheila.” Kelley, towel cape soaring behind her, was jumping up and down on Brandon’s bench before she launched herself forward. Malcolm caught her midair and swung her into his arms.

“Oooh,” Kelley’s eyes went wide as her mouth pursed. “Superman.”

The chuckles and guffaws from those surrounding them warmed Sheila’s heart despite the ache his refusal had caused. In spite of having every reason to be embarrassed, he tweaked Kelley’s nose and said, “Shhhh. Secret identity. Just between us.”

“Like Gage is James Bond?” Kelley asked.

“Um.” Malcolm looked to Sheila, who shrugged.

“It’s possible,” Sheila said. “He used to be Prince Charming.”

“Good to know.” As he started to lower Kelley to the ground he stopped, and Sheila noticed everyone had gone quiet as they handed out filled plastic champagne flutes. From the Fiorellis and all the foster kids, to Gage’s family of parents, twins, and two of his brothers, to Jackson and Nathan along with, to Malcolm’s surprise, Ty hovering in the background, she couldn’t remember feeling more content. Or—she stepped under Malcolm’s free arm and wrapped her arm around his waist—more loved.

“To Colin, our inspiration,” Jackson said as he held up his glass. “And our Catherine, who I hope is looking down on us and smiling.” Everyone raised their glasses to the sky. “Sheila and Morgan, for never giving up. And to Malcolm,” Jackson concluded as he stepped forward and offered his hand. Sheila felt Malcolm tense but he set Kelley on her feet and took her father’s hand. “Welcome home, son.”

“Welcome home,” everyone echoed. Except Sheila. Who closed her eyes as a solitary tear slipped free.

“No tears,” Malcolm whispered when the crowd dispersed and mingled among one another.

“You sound like your grandmother,” Sheila said as she swiped at her cheeks. “Only the two of you have ever made me cry.”

“Not true,” Nathan said, sidling up and then detouring as he caught sight of Veronica weaving in and around Cedric and Aiden as if they were two Whack-A-Moles. “You cried when they cancelled
Firefly
.”

“Some of us are still crying,” Malcolm said, and as he reached for Sheila his phone rang.

“Well, that’s a serious face,” she joked as he looked at the screen. “Can it wait?”

“Um, no.” He shook his head as he moved away, handed her his glass. “No, I’ve been waiting for this call. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” She watched him as he lifted the phone to his ear and disappeared around the edge of the center.

“Sheila? Everything okay?” Veronica asked as she hooked her arm through Sheila’s.

Sheila shivered, shook her head. “I don’t know.” But she dislodged the unease with the smile she’d spent years perfecting. “I hope so.”

“Yeah,” Veronica murmured with a strained smile of her own as she looked down the path Malcolm had taken. “So do I.”

***

“Hey, Doc.” Malcolm waited until he was well out of earshot.

“Glad to know we won’t be playing phone tag again, Malcolm.” Dr. Chapman’s voice was upbeat. A little too upbeat. Malcolm’s entire torso went tight, as if he’d been locked in bands of iron. “I have Doctor Collins conferenced in.”

“Two doctors on one call.” He rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Just what I was hoping for.” He hated being right.

“You wanted it straight, Malcolm, so here it is,” Dr. Collins said in a slightly more guarded tone than he’d had in his office. “The lymph nodes we biopsied are confirmed for stage two. We want to run some more extensive tests before we decide on a course of treatment.”

“Chemo and radiation again?” At least he knew what to expect this time around.

“Possibly,” Dr. Collins said. “There are also some new treatments that have been successful in trials. Given the type of cancer—”

“I’ll be back in the Bay Area in a week,” Malcolm said, not wanting to dive any deeper into the quicksand of this conversation. “Can we discuss this then?” He couldn’t deal with this while he was in Lantano Valley. He wanted to keep these weeks, this time with Sheila separate, untainted. As perfect as possible for as long as possible.

“Of course,” Dr. Chapman said. “Joshua, you said you’d be willing to fly up for the consult?”

Their voices faded and turned to buzzing in his ears. He murmured a good-bye, clicked off as his knees gave out. He landed on the ground, his entire body quivering as he struggled to breathe. Of all times, of all places. Statistics, treatments, survival rates all flew through his mind, but he couldn’t grasp any of it. Here he was, in the middle of promise, of hope. At the Tremayne Center and all it offered, including the love and support of the Tremaynes, and yet . . . he had to walk away from it.

And Sheila. Now more than ever, he knew what he owed the woman he loved. He owed her her life.