Love After All (34 page)

Marcus looked up at his son, then at his daughter. Their mother's eyes smiled back at him.

“Tomorrow evening you will graciously accept the National Association of Black-Owned Broadcasters Lifetime Achievement Award for Mom, and then as promised you will make a special announcement. You will resign your position effective immediately as CEO and turn the reins over to your daughter, Jessica Daley.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Jessica is to be the next CEO. She's more than qualified to take the lead. And just as Mom did, she will take Daley Communications further than either one of us. As stated in the letter, you will receive adequate compensation for your years of service.”

“What does that mean?”

“I wouldn't worry about that right now,” Jackson said as he turned to leave.

“What about you?” Marcus asked as Jackson opened the door to leave.

“I'll be around.”

In a sudden fit of rage Marcus tossed his briefcase across the room. “Fine, you want it, you got it. Take it, it's yours.” he stormed over to the door and opened it just as a man stood ready to knock.

He smiled and flipped an FBI badge to Marcus. He froze with his mouth open.

“Excuse me,” the man said. “I'm looking for Jessica Daley. I was told I might find her here.”

Marcus stepped back, still stunned, afraid that he might be arrested. Jessie stood up and walked over. “Hi, I'm Jessica Daley. How can I help you?”

He opened and showed his badge again. “My name is Grant Andrews, I work as a prosecutor for the federal government.”

“Yes, of course. Come in, what can I do for you, Mr. Andrews?”

“I was asked to return this to you.” He handed her an envelope and a laptop computer. She opened the envelope, looked inside then handed it over to Jackson. “I'm afraid that all the information on the computer has been permanently lost. The hard drive is completely fried.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Grant nodded and smiled. “I'll pass that on.”

“I'd appreciate that.”

Grant nodded to Jackson, then to Marcus and left.

“What's in the envelope?” Marcus asked.

“A certified check for ten million dollars,” Jackson said.

“What? How did you get it back?”

“Have to go,” Jackson said as he kissed his sister's cheek. “Congratulations. You were born for this.”

“A
re you insane?” Lincoln asked as he walked out of the police station. “Do you know how many lies I had to tell to get you released? What the hell were you thinking getting picked up for indecent exposure, obscenity and vagrancy? And couldn't you think up a better lie? Why not say you'd been robbed? Damn, you had no clothes on, no ID, they might actually have believed you.”

Eric, stumbling to get the shoes on that Lincoln brought him, hurried to catch up. “What, would you prefer me to give them my real name and file a police report, too? Remember, I'm already in the system thanks to you.”

“How the hell did you get this way?”

“I don't know. I think I went drinking with Shauna.”

Lincoln stopped short and just stared at him as if he was nuts. “You did what? What the hell were you doing drinking with her?”

“I thought she could give me some information. You know, to con her old man.”

“Fool, she drinks for a living. She's the only one I know who could actually drink a full bottle of Jack Daniel's and not feel a thing.”

“We were drinking tequila shots. At least, I think we were.”

“Oh, great, that's like water to her. She's been drinking since her mother died when she was ten. Believe me, Shauna Cooperman is a professional.”

“I thought—”

“That's your problem, you thought, you think. Stop it. I do the thinking, remember that,” he said, stabbing his finger into Eric's chest to make the point. “Do you have any idea how close you came to blowing the whole thing?”

“Look, just because you have this hard-on for Jefferson Taylor don't blame me. I was fine all by myself. I don't need you.”

“But you do. Without me your butt would be rotting in a New York City jail. And need I remind you that all I have to do is press one button and all your nightmares will come true?”

Eric glared at Lincoln. There was nothing to say.

“Where's the check?”

“In my briefcase.”

“Where's the briefcase?”

“Uh, I was in Shauna Cooperman's bedroom. It's there.”

Lincoln stopped walking again. “Where?”

“In her bedroom, that's were the witch took my clothes and my things.”

“Damn,” Lincoln said.

“What?” Eric asked.

“Hurry up, maybe we can still get there before they do.”

Moments later they drove up to witness firsthand the complete efficiency of the FBI. George Cooperman's home had already been seized and cordoned off, and three huge trucks were backed up in the driveway as agents loaded boxes of evidence.

“There goes ten million dollars,” Lincoln said.

“We got to get out of here,” Eric said.

 

Jackson drove home.

As soon as he pulled into his driveway, Shauna got out of her car. She smiled. This was just too good to be true. She closed the door and walked over to meet him.

“Your family friend has company. Don't say I didn't warn you. Now you've got another con man in there with her.”

“What are you talking about, Shauna?”

“Her family are all con artists. Thieves,” she spat out. “They actually steal other people's money for a living.”

“Con artists aren't thieves.”

“What are you talking about? She's a thief. You have a woman you don't even know living in your house and you're talking about the differences between thieves and con men. I don't believe this.”

“Shauna, none of this is your business.”

“I can't believe what I'm hearing, you're going to actually stand there and defend her, you don't even know her. She's apparently lied to you from the beginning. But she can't get out of this one. He's in there with her.”

Jackson thought about Eric instantly. “Goodbye, Shauna.”

“Fine, don't believe me, see for yourself. Know this, I'll be home when you're ready to come crawling back.”

Jackson walked in and looked around. Samantha was just as he'd left her, still sitting at the counter with her laptops in front of her. She looked up. “Hi,” she said. “You just missed your friend.”

“Hi. I know, I ran into her just as she was leaving. She told me that I had company.”

“You do.”

“She said that you were here with a man.”

“That would be me.” A man spoke up, entering the kitchen from the deck.

Jackson saw a familiar man standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the deck. “And you are?”

“Jackson, this is my brother, Jefferson Taylor.”

Jackson looked at him strangely. “I remember you. You're the bartender in the airport lounge in Chicago.”

“Good memory.”

Jackson went still as the realization in his eyes hardened sternly. He turned to Samantha, shaking his head. “You knew all this from the beginning. You're one of them, a professional con artist, and this was a con all along, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

Jefferson looked at her oddly. “Think of it more as an intervention for the greater good,” he said.

“I've heard that before. Justice, right? Your friend Percival Lincoln said the same thing. So it was you and your brother working together the whole time, a family con.”

“Yes, but…” she said, taking a step to go to him.

“Don't,” he said, interrupting, taking a step back.

“Jackson…” she called after him.

“I think you said it all.” They stood staring into each other's eyes.

“If you'll excuse me,” Jefferson said, “I need to make sure that Eric and Lincoln get a well-deserved send-off.” He leaned over and kissed Samantha's forehead. “I'll see you later.” She nodded. He turned to Jackson and nodded.

Jackson held out his hand. “I guess I owe you thanks.”

“I've heard a lot about you. It was good to finally meet you. And for the record, you don't owe me anything.”

Jefferson nodded and left as Jackson turned to Samantha. “One last thing. Was any of this real?”

Samantha remembered what Jefferson had said. “No, it was just as you said, a con from the very beginning.”

He smiled. “And I fell for it.”

“Hook, line and sinker,” she said as she continued packing up the two laptop computers.

“And making love to me, that was part of it?”

She didn't respond.

“I guess that's my answer, and now you leave.”

“I told you I'd leave when this was over.”

“To con someone else?”

“That's what I do. You said it, I'm a professional.”

“You were right. I guess I get to walk away wiser and wishing that I hadn't gotten up this morning. It was a nice fantasy.” He walked out of the kitchen.

“Yes, it was,” she said and she finished packing. She picked up her bag and walked out. It was over.

S
amantha looked around. A mass of humanity swarmed in every direction, another reason why she hated airports. So why her brother had insisted she meet him here was beyond her. She continued looking around. Then she spotted him smiling at her from across the path. She walked over. “Hey there,” she said as she kissed his cheek.

“You're late,” Jefferson said.

“I know, sorry, I had to pick up my ticket,” she said, smiling. “What in the world are we doing here of all places? You know how much I detest airports.”

“Tell me you're not taking a train all the way across the country.” She smiled nicely. “What am I going to do with you? Come on, we have a seat right over there.”

Samantha turned. Grant was sitting at a coffee bar sipping from a small cup. They walked over. Grant stood, smiling.

“Hey, you, how are you?” she said. “I saw you on television last night. You looked great. Looks like that anonymous file someone sent you really sealed your case against George Cooperman.”

“Hey, lollipop,” Grant said, kissing Samantha on the forehead, then winking. “Thanks.”

They all sat down at the small table. A waiter brought over another cup of espresso and an herbal tea.

“Don't mention it,” she said. “So what's this surprise you have for me?”

Grant looked at his watch. “It's time.” Just then a small commotion aroused interest as several airport security teams hurried to the area. The crowd parted and two men were being led away in handcuffs. They walked right by the small coffee shop. Samantha, Jefferson and Grant smiled as Lincoln glared at them. Eric, too busy demanding his rights and his attorney while professing his innocence, never even looked around and saw them.

“To the victor, the spoils.” Jefferson toasted with his small cup.

“Ah, thank you.” She smiled. “What a perfect gift. That really felt good.” She hugged both men.

“Well, that's it for me, I have a ton of paperwork to do back at the office.” Grant stood and leaned down to Samantha. “Thanks again, Sammy, without you…”

“Family is for forever. 'Bye, good luck.”

Jefferson and Grant shook hands. “I have something you might be interested in doing for us,” Grant said to Jefferson. “I'll call you in the next few days.”

“So, how does it feel to end your first and only con?” Jefferson said.

“Good,” she said, smiling. “No, it feels great!” She threw her arms around Jefferson and hugged him fiercely. “The thrill and excitement were exhilarating. What a rush.”

“Whoa, whoa, don't get too used to it. Dad said that you were never to come out after midnight.”

“I know, and I won't.”

“Good.”

“What I do, what I did is dangerous. But like Dad, I never conned anyone who wasn't already a thief and a crook.”

“I know.”

“So how did you leave it last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Jackson. Why would you allow him to believe that you were a professional con artist?”

“So I could walk away.”

“You never walk away from love. Nothing is that important.”

“You did, Dad did.”

“And look where it got us.”

“He's better off with someone else.”

“That would be his decision, not yours.”

“I helped.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“I'm sure.”

“When's your train?” he asked.

“In four hours. And your flight?”

“Soon, as a matter of fact,” he said, finishing the last of his espresso. “I'd better get going.”

“But we didn't get to spend any real time together,” she said sadly. “I'm missing you already.”

“No, you miss him. You should have gone back.”

“To what end? His world is way too different from ours. I would never fit in.”

“You don't have to. But that's your decision. Are you headed back to Boston, to Oz?”

She nodded. “Yeah, for a little bit. I want to take some time to chill out. Then who knows where.”

“Good.” He pulled out and handed her a business card. “Take this.”

“What is it?” She looked at the card, recognizing the name instantly. “Dad's attorney?”

“You have an inheritance to pick up in New York first and probably a lot of shopping to do while you're there now that you're off the hook for Eric's crime.”

“What?”

“I figure, let's see, over about fifteen years of sound investments, and after taxes, of course, I'd say you were looking at somewhere north of nine million dollars.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, astonished.

Jefferson stood and kissed her forehead. “Take care and be good,” he warned in that brotherly way that always made her smile.

“I will.”

She watched as he walked down the corridor and disappeared into the crowd. He turned once and waved. She nodded and waved back just before heading in the opposite direction.

Opening the cell phone, she called her friend Jillian. “Whatever you're doing put it on hold. Meet me in New York in a few days, we have some serious shopping and celebrating to do.”