Lottery (6 page)

Every time Caleb read the words, it felt like a knife slicing through his chest. If this had something to do with Weber’s death, why had someone waited for six months to blackmail him?

When he came down the stairs this morning, Caleb had found the paper pushed under his door. Combing his fingers through his hair, he rested his hand on the back of his neck. Did this have to do with the lottery ticket? Caleb’s eye began to twitch as he paced to the floor-to-ceiling windows and back to the kitchen.

Anyone who lived in the building needed a security code to get in which meant that unless the person who wrote the note lived here, someone would have had to let him or her in.

This had to be about Weber, Caleb speculated. Caleb was being blackmailed.
Damn it.
He closed his fist, wadding up the note in his hand. He’d checked the God damned boat. No one was there, unless … they’d been hiding.

He’d paced his condo most of the day, trying to think who would have been on Weber’s yacht that night. He had nowhere to go until it was time to meet Ling as he’d quit his job a couple of months ago. Between the publicity he received for winning the lottery, along with his positions on numerous boards that wanted his money more than his input, he didn’t have time to work. These new responsibilities had become a full-time job.

At five, he took a shower. He was not about to let the note ruin tonight, Caleb thought as the warm water pulsated over his tight neck and shoulder muscles. He’d been planning this night for weeks. He pulled a navy blue V-neck sweater over his head. After he’d met Ling, he’d replaced his wardrobe to better match her classic, yet less formal, style, trading suits for slacks and sports jackets, and button-down collared shirts for casual, yet expensive sweaters. Ling dressed in conservative pieces that were tailored to her small frame.

After Caleb applied gel, he finger-combed his thick, blonde hair into place, and then slipped into his twelve-hundred dollar John Lobb loafers. On his way out the door, he pushed the note into his pocket and set out for the pier to meet Ling.

It was almost six when he spotted her walking toward him. Even though he was a total wreck, his heart melted. “Hey, you,” he said, leaning over to kiss her briefly on the lips. “You have anyone special in your life?”

“I do.” Ling’s eyes sparkled.

He put his arms around her and brought her close. Until he’d met Ling, Caleb never knew that he could love someone this much. “I have reservations at a very special restaurant.”

Ling was impeccably dressed in a baby blue suit and black patent-leather heels. Her skin always looked dewy, as if she’d just stepped out of a shower.

She held up a bag of groceries. “I was hoping we could just to go your place.”

“You’re cooking?” It would be easy to cancel the reservations, and besides, Caleb wasn’t up to being around a lot of people tonight.

“You can be my sous chef.”

He raised an eyebrow, and took the bag from her. “You mean like, cut up stuff?”

“That would be the deal.” Ling put her arm through his.

It was rush hour and, as usual, the streets were crammed with drivers trying to honk their way forward. Caleb didn’t notice the people who hurried past them as he only had eyes for Ling.

“Everything okay?” Ling asked. “You seem like you’re in another world.”

“I have an idea I want to talk to you about.” He put his free arm around her. He had to get the note off his mind. “I’ll tell you about it tonight.”

When they reached his condo, she hurried up the stairs to change. When they’d committed to being exclusive, Ling had brought over a few casual clothes to change into when she slept over on weekends.

He opened a bottle of wine and poured it into the wine glasses. “I assume you want white wine?” he called out, hoping Ling hadn’t smelled the gin on his breath.

“You know me too well.” She bopped down the stairs wearing cut-offs and a tank top, pulling her hair into a ponytail and securing it with a scrunchie. Then she nodded at the only chair in the great room. “Think we should start looking for some furniture for you? That chair looks lonely.”

“Maybe.” Caleb handed her a glass of wine. “What are we cooking?”

Ling took out shrimp, fettuccini, fresh garlic, green onions, and cilantro from the grocery sack. “Pasta dish. Mom’s recipe.”

He took a sip of wine and put his glass down on the marble-topped center island. “What can I do?”

“Cut up the onions.” She took out a paring knife and handed it to Caleb.

After Ling filled a large pot with water and set it on the stove, she lit the burner while Caleb chopped the bunch of green onions.

“I want to talk to you,” Caleb said.

“About?”

Trying hard not to think about the note, he smiled. “I’ve been thinking.”

“It’s good to think.” She opened the refrigerator and put the bag of fresh shrimp inside.

“Remember when you told me you wanted to bring orphans from China to the states? Place them with American parents?”

Ling bent over and took a skillet from a cupboard. “Uh huh.”

“Well, I’ve done some research.”

Ling abruptly stopped what she was doing and looked at him. “On?”

“You could be a go-between for an adoption agency in China. The adoptive parents’ spokesperson. Like a middle man.”

“That would take lots of time and money.” Ling turned and took out the olive oil from the pantry.

“I
have
a lot of time and money.”

“Caleb.” She put her hand on her hip. “You can’t be serious.”

Caleb set the knife down on the counter. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“I can’t let you do that.” Ling lit the burner and put the pot filled with water on it. “That’s
my
dream, not yours, and I’m perfectly capable of—”

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “And now it’s
our
dream.” Caleb touched the end of her turned-up nose with the tip of his finger.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m already in …” She looked away.

“In love with me,” he finished.

She cocked her head to the side. “Maybe.”

“I’m not trying to buy your love. I want to do this.”

A serious expression came over Ling’s face. “I have around a hundred grand saved, and—”

“Stop.” Caleb put his finger gently on her lips. “We’re not using your money. I’m the lottery man, remember?”

“That wouldn’t be fair. I want to do this someday, and use my own money. I just have to work a few more years and—”

“One more thing.” He took out a small, dark blue velvet box from his pocket. “I think we should do this as a team.” He opened the box.

She looked down at the diamond solitaire and gasped. “Are you—”

“Proposing?” He slowly went down on one knee, his eyes not leaving hers. “Yes.” Oh, God, what if she said no? Maybe he should have waited for a—

“But,” Ling said and hesitated, “we’ve only—”

“Known each other for a few months? I have the answer to any argument. If you say one more ‘but,’ I won’t be responsible for what I do.” He was starting to choke up. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

The condo grew silent for a few seconds and Caleb saw a tear roll down Ling’s cheek. “Me either,” she whispered.

Caleb let out the breath he’d been holding and reverently took the ring out of the box. His hands trembling, he took hold of her left hand. “Ling Jameson, will you be my wife?”

Her tear filled eyes searched his and she nodded.

He slid the ring onto her finger, stood and kissed her gently on the lips. Caleb didn’t want her to see him fall apart. Until he’d
read the note this morning, his every waking moment was spent thinking about Ling.

She held her hand up, admiring the shiny diamond on her petite ring finger. “Caleb,” she said, and looked up at him, “it’s beautiful, but the stone is so big. I just want—”

“Be quiet.” Caleb covered her lips with his.

Later that night, when he’d gently made love to her, he felt more passion than he’d ever felt before. Caleb wished they could get married tonight as he never wanted to be with her all the time. He didn’t know what he’d do if she changed her mind.

After they dressed, he walked her home. She had an early meeting in the morning and Caleb was grateful that she hadn’t wanted to spend the night. He had some serious thinking to do.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married,” she told Caleb when they reached the door to her apartment.

“Second thoughts?”

“No.” Ling shook her head. “I honestly didn’t know if I’d ever get married. I’ve really never let anyone into my life before.”

“Why me?”

Ling gazed into his eyes. “My father has never said an unkind word to my mother. He treats her like a queen. I never thought I’d find someone like Samuel Jameson.”

“There are a lot of jerks out there, so I’m glad you found me, too.” He grinned. How could anyone like
her
be in love with someone like
him
?

He kissed her goodnight again, wishing he could get the note off his mind.

Walking back to his condo, he wondered who could have had been on the boat that night. Maybe the person was bluffing, and
trying to squeeze money out of Caleb. No … someone had to have been on the yacht. The person must have seen Caleb take the lottery ticket from Weber’s pocket. Caleb was in deep. Whoever it was would only come back over and over again for more money.

“Whoever it is, you’ve gotta get rid of them.” Caleb heard and stopped walking. When he saw there was no one around, his heart started to palpitate.

Maybe he’d overheard a conversation when someone walked by.

“Take control, O’Toole.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

“You’re such a pussy,” the voice whispered.

Caleb glanced in every direction, but no one was close enough for him to hear them talking. What the hell was going on? He felt the perspiration trickling from his forehead down his temples.

“For once, grab your fuckin’ balls and be a man,” the male voice told him.

cKenzie Price tore out a page from the used notebook she’d found on the window sill. She tore the paper in half and laid the two strips close together on the filthy wooden floor of the condemned warehouse.

Usually there were a bevy of homeless people sleeping head-to-head inside the brick building, but since it was nice outside today, no one was here but McKenzie.

The windows in the dilapidated warehouse were shattered, and the tattered wood floors were covered in a thick coat of dust. For the past six years, McKenzie had lived on the streets, bartering sex in exchange for drugs. It had been a treat to find a building in the Tenderloin where the cops hadn’t shooed her out, or arrested her for trespassing.

McKenzie got down on her knees beside the strips of paper before reaching into her pocket to bring out the small plastic sack. Holding the packet up to the light, she smiled at the two light yellow crystals shaped like sugar-cubes. Rummaging through a pile of rags, she found the pipe. It was only a matter of time before her street buddies found her paraphernalia, and, in turn, McKenzie would have to steal someone else’s pipe.

She hadn’t always been an addict. When she’d graduated from high school, McKenzie had gotten a job, secured an apartment, and even had a nice boyfriend. But that first hit of crack had sent her to a world she’d never been before. The drug had made her forget about the overdue bills, the fact she’d never made her mother happy one day of her life, and that her boyfriend had cheated on her with her best friend. Screw the good life her parents had told McKenzie she would have. It was a fucking zoo out there.