Loyalty (39 page)

“What kind of information?”

“Dad, she’s going to be busted, and it’s going to be a circus.”

“Fuck.”

Fina took a deep breath. “And some of the information the cops have came from my investigation,” she said. She struggled to maintain eye contact with her father.

“What?”

“They would have found it on their own eventually.”

Carl tilted his head. “Are you saying that I paid for the evidence that’s going to destroy your brother?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes, but he’s not going to be destroyed.”

Carl sprang up and came out from behind his desk. He didn’t touch her, but got right in her face. The memory of Rand’s hot, scotch breath was replaced by her father’s coffee-laden exhalations.

“You are a goddamn traitor,” he seethed.

“And your son is a fucking pervert. While you’ve been busy building your empire, he’s been molesting your granddaughter,” Fina spat. “You better hope that doesn’t come out.”

Carl’s features froze for a second. Fina watched his eyes scan from side to side.

Fina stood and poked her finger at his chest. “I will lie and cheat and commit all kinds of felonies, and I will look the other way when you and my brothers go after good people, but I will
not
stand by and let Haley be abused.”

Carl stared at her. His face was flushed, and beads of sweat dotted his brow.

“You pretend whatever you want, believe whatever you need to,” Fina said, “but he doesn’t get to be her father, not anymore, and if you get in my way, you’ll regret it.”

“Don’t threaten me, Josefina. I’m your father.”

“Exactly. You of all people should know what I’m capable of,” she said, and threw open the door.

“I just heard you were here,” Scotty said, breaking off his conversation with Shari when Fina strode out of the office. “I thought we were going to meet at the police station.” He looked at his sister and father, trying to determine what bomb had just detonated.

“Let’s go now,” Fina said. “I’m exhausted.”

Carl looked at her and slammed his door shut. Shari fussed with the papers on her desk, and Fina walked down the hallway with Scotty trailing behind.

The three hours Fina spent being questioned about the shooting were the most pleasant she’d ever spent in the presence of cops (with the exception of Cristian, of course). Pitney was firm, but even, and the usual verbal barbs that marked the women’s interactions were absent. Scotty threw searching looks in Fina’s direction, but she ignored him and just answered the questions. It was only in the final moments of the interview that Pitney alluded to their earlier meeting. Fina supposed that Pitney had done her a favor; she was going to have to tell Scotty, and now she had a jumping-off point for the conversation.

Like any lawyer worth his fee, Scotty waited until they had privacy before laying into her. They’d taken one of the chauffeured town cars to the police headquarters, and Scotty directed the driver to a nearby gas station mini-mart, where he ordered him to park the car and take a walk.

“What is wrong with you?” Scotty erupted as soon as the door slammed closed behind the driver. “You never, ever talk to the cops without counsel!”

“I know that.”

“So . . . ?” Scotty threw his hands up in frustration.

“I knew you would try to stop me.”

“Of course I would!” Scotty groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. Fina watched him. “What did you tell them?”

“I gave them information about the madam, Bev Duprey, and her businesses. She’s connected to Mark Lamont, and she’s been out to get Rand from the beginning.”

“By supplying his hookers?”

“By employing Haley as an escort.”

The color drained from Scotty’s face. “What?” he whispered.

Fina told him about the Duprey lawsuit, her meetings with Bev, Cristian’s tip about Haley, and Haley’s arrival at Bev’s office the day before.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure. Obviously, Haley doesn’t want anybody to know about it.”

“Obviously.” Scotty sagged into the car’s leather seat. “But why? I know she gets mixed up in the wrong stuff, but this is crazy.”

“Which brings us to the next part. The worst part,” Fina said. She turned in her seat to face him.

Scotty looked at her expectantly.

“Rand molested her.”

Scotty’s face became animated, but in slow motion. Fina saw disbelief and disgust mingle with confusion.

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” Fina insisted. “Ever wonder why she’s so jumpy around him? Why she locks her bedroom door at night? Why she was so pissed at her mother?”

“Enough, Fina. I don’t want to know!”

“You think I do?! You think it’s been easy uncovering this piece of information? Contemplating it?”

“Who else have you told?”

“Just you and Dad.”

Scotty looked aghast. “You told Dad?”

“I had to. I had to tell him that some of the evidence on Bev might be trouble for Rand.”

“What’s the point of getting Rand in trouble with the cops?”

Fina glared at him. “Aside from the fact that he should be punished by somebody for something, now he won’t have any leverage for a claim on Haley. She’ll be free of him, and people will think good riddance.”

“We could have handled it—in the family,” Scotty grumbled.

Fina shook her head vigorously. “No, we couldn’t have.”

“Well, you didn’t give us the chance, did you?”

“What would have happened, Scotty? Really? Explain to me what the consequences would have been within the family?”

Scotty started to stammer.

“Exactly. Dad doesn’t believe it. I’m not sure you do, either. Dad won’t tell Mom, who definitely wouldn’t believe it. Everyone would expect Haley to sit across the Thanksgiving table from Rand, pretending that everything’s fine. Don’t you understand that that would fuck her up all over again? One of them was going to be compromised, and I wasn’t going to let it be Haley.”

Scotty rubbed his hands together. There were bags under his eyes. He cleared his throat in an effort to reclaim his voice. “So what’s next?”

“If you and Patty can’t take Haley, I will.”

“Oh, Fina.” Scotty snorted. “The kid’s suffered enough already.”

Fina put her head in her hands. “God, I was hoping you’d say that.” She looked up at her brother. “I can’t believe how much this sucks.”

“No kidding.”

“Do you want me to talk to Patty?”

“No, I’ll do it. What about Matthew?”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“And Mom?” Scotty asked.

The siblings looked at each other.

“That’s a shit storm I have no interest in unleashing,” Fina said.

“Agreed.” Scotty reached over and squeezed Fina’s good hand. “Are you okay?”

Fina smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine.”

Scotty studied her for a moment, then opened his door and summoned the driver. Fina reached over and shut the air-conditioning vent that was blowing frigid air on her.

She was already numb.

Milloy retrieved her from the hospital where she underwent a battery of tests, the results of which were carefully recorded in the police report. Fina wanted to banish the Ludlows from her mind, if only for a little while, so he took her back to his place. They ordered in Chinese—fried egg rolls, wontons stuffed with pork, crispy orange beef, greasy lo mein, and shrimp Rangoon. Fina ate until she was stuffed, took a long shower, and collapsed into Milloy’s bed. It was only three
P.M.
, but she fell into a deep sleep, only to awaken the next day having barely moved.

Milloy crept out for an early morning massage appointment, and Fina dozed for a couple more hours. She took a shower and rummaged around in his closet. She found a T-shirt dress she’d left on an earlier occasion that Milloy had thoughtfully laundered. In his kitchen, there was a plastic sleeve of powdered doughnuts and a single can of diet soda sitting in the fridge. He really was a peach.

The ripe aroma wafting from her cast hampered the enjoyment of her meal, so Fina called a cab and paid the orthopedist a visit.

Bev longed for the days when you could accompany travelers all the way to the gate. She supposed the restriction contributed to better security, but she wanted to walk her son right to the plane and watch it push back, confident that he was secure within its confines.

“Mom?” Connor interrupted her daydreaming. “Do you want anything?”

“No, dear.” She was sitting in a row of chairs welded together, while Connor waited in line to buy a fruit smoothie from a cart in the middle of the ticketing area. She gazed at him admiringly as he placed his order. He was a handsome boy—smart, too. And he was kind and tried to help people. She and Chester had done a good job.

He dropped down into the seat next to her and sucked on his straw. Bev glanced at her watch.

“I’ve got a few minutes, Mom. There’s a flight to New York every hour, anyway.”

“I know, but you don’t want to be late for your first training session. Remind me again of the schedule?”

Connor rolled his eyes and smiled at his mother. “I’ve already told you.”

“Well, tell me again.”

“I have two days of training in New York, then a week in Germany, and then I’ll get my assignment.” Connor sipped his smoothie and gazed at the passengers moving by at various speeds. “I hope it’s somewhere in Africa. In some of those countries, one out of every eight babies dies before his or her first birthday.”

Bev shuddered. “That’s terrible, Connor.”

“I know, but it means we could have a huge impact. We could really make a difference.”

It was that glimmer of excitement, of hope, that would have to sustain Bev in the coming days. She supposed that her life was over in many respects, but she’d orchestrated a rebirth of sorts for Connor, and that was all that mattered.

He took a last sip of his drink and pitched it into a trash bin. “I guess I should head down,” he told Bev.

“Of course.” Bev stood and followed him toward security.

“Mom.” Connor turned to her. “Are you sure you’re okay? Is everything okay?”

Bev took his shoulders in her hands. “Connor, I want you to get on that plane and have the time of your life. You concentrate on being a doctor. Your daddy and I will be just fine.”

Connor looked at her. He didn’t completely believe his mother, but he wanted to, desperately. “You’d tell me if you needed me to stay?”

“Of course, sugar,” Bev said, pulling him into a tight embrace. She inhaled deeply and tried to memorize his scent. She released him and tapped him gently on the cheek. “Now, scoot. Those babies need you.”

Connor grinned. “Love you, Mom.”

“You, too, pumpkin.”

Bev stood at the barrier and watched Connor snake his way through the line and the various pieces of equipment used to establish his level of threat to his fellow man. He turned when he was at the farthest reach of the hallway and waved to her. Bev stood on her tiptoes as she waved back, and then he disappeared from sight.

She hurried through the ticketing area and walked briskly on the moving sidewalk back to the parking garage. Once in her car, she glanced at the clock and gave herself ten minutes to weep.

After eleven minutes, Bev opened her phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Serensen,” she said evenly, “I believe we have an appointment with the police.”