Liberty...And Justice for All (5 page)

We started off at an easy pace; even though my legs hurt and I hated to run, I put on a brave face so Matthew wouldn’t be even madder at me than he already was.

“You suck,” Catherine said to him, already panting after less than a minute.

Matthew smiled at her, running easily. I knew it would be an hour before he even broke a sweat. “The best part about this? You won’t be able to talk,” he said, and kept putting one foot gleefully in front of the other.

“
S
o
, we have Alexandra and her husband Marks,” I said to Ian later.

“Maybe it was Marks—he’s a total douche,” Matthew offered.

“He
was
pretentious,” Catherine said. “Not that I’m agreeing with you.” She gave Matthew a dirty look.

“Okay, kids,” I said. “Enough fighting. But you’re right, even John didn’t like Marks. He wasn’t very nice to his wife, either.”

“Does that make him a suspect?” Ian asked.

“As good a suspect as anybody else at this point,” I said. “We need to find out if it’s just his wife he doesn’t like—or all women. Which would be bad, because he has two little girls.” I hoped Marks wasn’t involved in this. I didn’t like him, but I didn’t want to ruin his family’s life by finding out he was a misogynist and a thief, either.

“You have other siblings on your dad’s side, right?” Matthew asked.

“Yes. Three of them. And Alexandra said they weren’t happy about me getting any money,” I said. “But the necklace was a secret. No one was supposed to know. Except for maybe the lawyer…I can’t remember.”

“What was his name?” Ian asked.

I thought for a second. He’d been tan, a golfer…with a banker’s name. “Billy Brown,” I said.

“Put him on the list,” Matthew said.

“My three other half-siblings are Katrina, Jacoby, and Robert,” I said. “But we’ll have to ask Alexandra where they live, what they’re like…I don’t know any of that.”

“So we should start with Alexandra,” Ian said. “Give her a call and see if she’d like to have us visit today.”

I looked at the clock; it was already almost three. “She’s in western Massachusetts,” I said. “It’s about two hours from here.”

“We’ll take the helicopter,” Ian said. “Liberty—call her. Matthew—go tell Michael we’re going to need him to fly us out in a half hour.”

Catherine and I were just staring at him. “John bought a
helicopter
?” Catherine asked. “Between the stripper wife and the helicopter…man, this is one epic mid-life crisis.”

I glared at her and she gave me a defiant stare back.

Catherine turned to Ian. “Can I skip the chopper ride? I’d rather just hang. Those big ear-muff things don’t look good on me, anyway.”

“You’re going,” Ian and I both snapped, in unison.

“Fine,” she said, stomping out of the kitchen like an indignant fourteen-year-old.

Ian grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and doled out two for him, two for me.

I swallowed them thankfully and then paused for a beat. “When
did
John buy a helicopter?”

Ian finished his sip of water. “I bought it,” he said. “I thought it would be a fun thing to do.”

“Fun” was a very un-Ian-like concept. I raised my eyebrows at him. “A fun thing to do?”

“On a date.” His face reddened, something I’d never witnessed before.

“Have you taken a date on the helicopter, Ian?”

He just shook his head a little,
no.
“But I took a picture of myself in front of it for my
eHarmony
profile,” he said, and his blush deepened.

I just looked at him, waiting. I only wanted him to tell me what he wanted to tell me.

“I thought the helicopter would be good in the picture, because then women would see that my life might be a little…more exciting than normal,” he finished, stiffly. “I wasn’t sure if women who were used to things like…tea…and walks in public gardens…would be interested in someone like me. I need a woman who is used to a little action.”

He shook his head and started spluttering. “Not
action
action, mind you…I meant guys with guns living on my property…a son who sometimes keeps prisoners next door…and a granddaughter who was married to a cartel leader, who drinks like a fish and swears like a sailor. You’re the only normal family member I’ve got,” Ian said, looking at me helplessly.

“And we both know that’s sort of a stretch,” I said.

“Plus, I thought the helicopter would be fun for…dates,” he said, lamely. “You know, we could look out at the ocean, fly to Newport and fly over the mansions…interesting stuff like that.”

“So how’s it working out?” I asked, trying to sound neutral. Inside, I was
thrilled
that Ian wanted to meet someone. He’d been lonely for a long time and I wanted him to be happy. He had so much to give. But I didn’t want to get so excited that I scared him off.

“I haven’t posted my profile,” Ian said. “I look silly in the picture. Plus, I don’t know how to fly…I feel like it’s like false advertising.”

“No it’s not—you own it,” I said. “I’ll take your picture. And then we can do some cool video, or something, with you as co-pilot next to Michael, just so you’re clear about who’s flying from the get-go. The ladies will
love
it.”

“I’m not sure how I look with those big ear things on,” Ian said.

“I’m sure you look great, Ian. Refined and adventurous,” I said, patting him on the back. “What every smart lady wants in a gentleman.”

“Don’t tell John. Not yet,” Ian said. “I haven’t dated since his mother passed.”

“I won’t tell him,” I promised. “I’ll put it on the list of things I’m not telling him.”

A
lexandra was surprised
and alarmed by my call. “We’re having some security issues,” I told her, being purposefully vague. “We need to interview everyone who’s been out to the house in the last three months.”

And with that, we got ready to go. I put my earmuffs on and smiled at Catherine, who was wearing hers. She looked hideous with the big protective gear over her ears.

I took a picture of her with my phone, just in case I needed to print it out and hang it up somewhere. Like everywhere.

Thankfully, she didn’t speak to me for a while after that.

“I didn’t know you could fly,” I said to Michael, as he climbed in and started adjusting monitors and mirrors.

“I have many talents—not just making the best margaritas on the East Coast,” he said, and smiled at me. “You guys ready?”

Matthew jumped into the copter then, a pair of earmuffs casually slung around his neck.

“Oh great,” Catherine said, too loudly, unable to hear her own voice. “Make my fucking day.”

“Nice to see you, too,” he said to her, too kindly.

“What?” She asked, taking her earmuffs off.

“I said I’m so glad you’re coming with us.” He sat down next to me and tried to keep a straight face. “It’s so positive that you’re actually attempting to work for a living. Instead of just leaching off of John.”

“I do not
leach
off of John—I’ve been self-sufficient for years,” she snarled at him.

Matthew coughed. “
Angel Morales
,” he said, and coughed some more.

Catherine launched herself across the cabin and landed practically on top of Matthew. She grabbed his t-shirt and bunched it into a knot in her fist. “You listen to me,” she said. “I earned every filthy penny while I was married to Angel. You have no idea—”

“Break it up,” I cried, prying Catherine’s fingers off of Matthew and pulling her back towards her seat. “No need to fight. We’re all on the same team now. Just on separate benches.” I deposited Catherine gingerly on hers. She didn’t put up a fight; she was too busy locking eyes with Matthew, a pissed-off showdown, neither one of them budging.

I turned to him, pleading. “Really, Matthew? Do we need to do this right now?” I gave him an exasperated look:
Knock it off.

He shrugged and started smoothing out the wrinkles on his t-shirt. “Next time, hands off the shirt,” he mumbled. “I just ironed it.”

“Next time it’s gonna be your throat, Boy Toy,” Catherine said.

Exasperated and unable to manage them further, I adjusted my earmuffs. I hoped I couldn’t hear anything through them; these two were unbelievable. I wanted to text John, to beg him to let me come to Vegas tonight.

But I had some secrets to keep, and some secrets to unravel before I could do that.

“
L
iberty
,” Marks said later, after we’d used his enormous backyard as a landing pad.

He didn’t seem particularly pleased about that. Or anything else, for that matter.

“Hi Marks,” I said. He looked perfectly gelled and pressed, like he was impersonating a mannequin in a luxury store. I smiled at him weakly. My hair was like a tornado encasing my head from the windy trip; I was wearing a t-shirt, athletic pants and running shoes. In case I had to run away from someone. Like Catherine or Matthew, if they started fighting again. Or Marks, if he suddenly admitted to being a misogynistic jewel thief .

“This is…unexpected,” he said, looking at the motley crew standing behind me. We were all a little ruddy and windswept.

“Really? I called Alexandra,” I said, looking past him into the enormous house. We were in Amherst, a beautiful, quaint college town, and it looked like my sister and her family lived in the most exclusive part. Lawns like theirs had to be pretty expensive; I also spied a very new looking Jaguar parked in their semi-circular drive.

In the back of my mind, I wondered if my necklace was paying for any of this.

“She’s at the store with the girls,” he said. “Now that you mention it, she texted me.” He pulled out his phone and quickly read the screen. “Oh, I see now…she went to grab some food to entertain you,” he said. It was not in a welcoming tone.

“She’s so sweet. I love being entertained,” I said, having no idea how to handle him.

“Um, dude—you gonna let us inside?” Matthew asked. “I really gotta pee. I could always use one of these bushes.” He started walking towards some very well-manicured shrubs and Marks held up his hand to stop him.

“Please don’t,” Marks said, tightly. He motioned for us to follow him. “This way.” We filed in silently behind him into the immaculate and surprisingly comfortable house. It was Alexandra in every way: warm, inviting, beautiful. Marks looked too cold and formal to live here; I secretly hoped, for my sister’s sake, that he spent most of his time in his office.

Or that I was wrong about him. One of those two.

Marks showed Matthew the bathroom and the rest of us filed into the perfect kitchen and stared at each other, awkwardly.

“So,” said Ian, clearing his throat, “do you often work from home?”

Marks shrugged. “I do it when I can. The girls are off today. So I thought it would be nice if I was home.” His tone suggested that we were interfering and suddenly I felt bad about the whole thing. Alexandra had just reached out to me this year, and now I was crashing into their lives, an ex-stripper with a bunch of accusations, bombing into their spotless kitchen with retaliation operatives and a pouty stepdaughter.

And landing my helicopter in their backyard.

“How about some tea?” Ian suggested, mildly, since Marks hadn’t offered us anything. Marks looked at him helplessly, like he’d never spent time in his kitchen before and had no idea where to start.

“I’ll do it,” Ian said. “Please, everyone, sit down.”

Matthew came back in and didn’t sit. Instead, he stood across from Catherine, the two of them sour-faced bookends.

I sat down next to Marks, smiling at him awkwardly. “So…” I said. “Did you have fun at the wedding?”

He furrowed his brow and nodded his head,
yes
, but he didn’t look like he meant it. “My wife drank too much all weekend, but aside from that, I had a fabulous time.”

“Oh,” I said. “Huh.” We just looked at each other for a beat.

“So…why are you here, again?” Marks asked. “I’m pretty sure you still haven’t told me.”

Ian put two cups of tea in front of us. “We’re here for business,” Ian said, pleasantly. “It can wait until your wife gets back.”

Marks glared at him.

Thankfully, the front door opened then and Alexandra and the girls came in, squealing in happiness to have company, the opposite of our initial reception.

“Alice, Tori—this is your aunt, Liberty,” Alexandra said. “Remember I told you about her?”

“Hi girls,” I said, shyly.

“Hi,” they said back. They were adorable, both with big blue eyes and their mother’s dark hair. Tori, the younger one, had wild curls.

“Girls. Go play,” Marks said sharply.

Alexandra and Marks locked eyes for a moment, having a silent exchange. Then my half-sister turned to me. “Want to go to my office so we can catch up for a minute?” She asked. I nodded and followed her quickly, sensing her discomfort.

Alexandra’s office, it turned out, was the girls’ playroom. They were playing with their Elsa and Ana dolls, plotting and scheming and kicking imaginary bad-guy butt. Alexandra sat down, her thick, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. She was wearing a loose-fitting top and knee-length boots that Catherine would approve of.

“What’s going on?” She asked. “Marks seems freaked out.”

“He’s a little tense,” I said.

“I forgot to tell him about the helicopter,” she said. “He’s probably just upset about the lawn.”

“Are you guys getting along all right?” I asked, careful not to say too much in front of the girls.

Alexandra shrugged. “We’ve liked each other better at other points of our marriage,” she said. “Like during our honeymoon. But we’re seven years in, and the honeymoon’s over. It’s not bad, or anything. We just pick at each other. Or he picks at me.” She looked up at me. “But what’s up with you? You didn’t chopper over here just to check in on me.”

I blew out a breath. “The necklace is missing,” I said, and bit my lip.

“No,” Alexandra said, shaking her head. She put her hand over her heart. “No, please. How is that even possible?”

“We put it in the safe the night you left,” I said. “Someone broke in and stole it while we were in the Caribbean. Ian was home, but he didn’t hear anything. Nothing else was taken.”

“Did you get any prints—anything?” Alexandra asked, clearly horrified.

“Nope,” I said. For the moment, I decided not to tell her about the note. She had enough to take in. “Whoever it was broke a ground-floor window to get in, and then they pried off the door to the safe. We didn’t have the alarm on. Ian didn’t hear a thing.”

“Thank God he was safe,” Alexandra said. “But this is horrible. Someone must have known about it.” She had a funny look on her face, like the information I’d given her wasn’t computing.