Rise of the Notorious (28 page)

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Authors: Katie Jennings

Tags: #vasser, #Literature, #Saga, #Fiction, #Drama, #legacy, #family drama, #katie jennings, #Hotels

BOOK: Rise of the Notorious
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After all, Morgan would have no reason to target the family if it weren’t for the very knowledge Shaw intended to go public with.

He shook his head wearily, resting his forehead in his hands with a heavy sigh. Never had he felt so worn out, so exhausted, from the business of politics. It was a game he knew well, one he’d played for longer than he could remember. Yet it had never, ever, taken on a sharp, jagged edge the way that it had this time.

The girl could die. Hell, she could already be dead. If she was, the Vassers, notably Madison Vasser, would be out for blood.

He had to hope he wouldn’t be first on their list.

Just then, his date strolled in, looking like a fox that missed the rabbit by the tuft of its fluffy tail. Her eyes were heavily painted and her lips were fixed in a pout that should have been sexy, and yet, because he knew her mood was sour, was anything but. The black leather dress she wore hugged her body, cutting off high enough on her thighs to leave little to the imagination.

When she slid none too gracefully into the seat across from him, he could barely muster up the feeling for a smile.

“Miss Hale,” Shaw greeted, lifting his glass to her in mock frivolity. “You look well.”

“Shove it, Shaw,” Jorja spat, tossing her purse on the table and scowling at him. “I need a drink.”

Shaw idly held up his hand to flag down the waiter while Jorja thumbed through the menu dispassionately.

After she had ordered, Shaw settled back in his seat and watched her closely. “We’ve been of great service to each other, wouldn’t you say?”

“I guess,” she mumbled, sending him a hostile look under heavy lashes. “You seem to have gotten what you were looking for, but I still don’t have mine.”

“I put my weight behind the drug claim, honey, just like you asked me to,” Shaw reasoned, sipping at his wine. “But without the dealer’s name, that claim doesn’t mean much.”

“If I point the police at Eddie, then he’ll blab that I was the one who bought the drugs from him. Then the cops will know I lied to them about it and I’ll be screwed.”

“You shouldn’t have lied in the first place.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from a politician.” Jorja let out a dark laugh, rolling her eyes. “You play your little games, scheming and bribing and cheating.”

“I have done no such thing,” Shaw bristled, an angry flush blooming over his face. “I am only out to expose the truth.”

Jorja snorted. “Sure. Anyway, it looks like nothing’s gonna scare your little daughter away from the Vassers. You’d think she’d go running after a kidnapping.”

Shaw grimaced, considering the thought as the waiter dropped off Jorja’s drink. She sipped at the martini, bored.

“I have to hope that Linc will protect her,” he said finally, ignoring Jorja’s cynical laugh.

“Good luck with that,” she scoffed before biting an olive off the toothpick that came with her drink. “This whole kidnapping thing makes ya wonder, though. Same thing with the secret Madison was hiding about her knowledge of that murder Win witnessed. Who has it out for the Vassers more than we do?”

Shaw met her eyes intently. “I don’t know.”

Jorja sighed. “I mean, it could just be some psychopath who’s taken an unhealthy interest in the family now that they’ve become famous or whatever. God knows I have plenty of creepy stalkers, maybe Queen Bitch has gotten herself one. He thinks that by kidnapping her kid sister he can somehow get closer to her.”

“That’s certainly plausible,” Shaw agreed, toying with his wine glass in his hands absently. “Either way, we can still twist this to our advantage.”

“How so?” Jorja asked doubtfully. “And what is your stake in this, anyway? When you came to me in the first place, you said it was about your daughter. But if your brat kid still won’t leave Linc after this, then I think you’re out of luck.”

Shaw managed a small smile. “First off, Miss Hale, anything that keeps the Vasser name in the headlines works to our advantage. Secondly, my daughter is not my motive.”

“Oh, what is?” Eyebrows raised, Jorja leaned over the table toward him. He saw the unmistakable glitter in her eyes, exposing her darker nature. There was little information he could give her in good faith that it wouldn’t be used against him at some point. She was never one to trust, after all. Just someone to be used.

But if he could keep her interested and on his side, committed to his purpose, then perhaps by the time he was ready to expose Morgan’s messy past, everything would be in place.

“Let’s just say that my opponent in next year’s election has a damning connection to the Vassers that I hope to expose,” Shaw told her, his expression carefully composed. “I’ll need your help when the time comes to unveil the truth.”

She smiled wickedly. “Only if we can nail the bitch for Win’s death at the same time. That’s my price.”

He nodded, then ordered a second round of drinks for the both of them. When the waiter walked away, Shaw eyed Jorja thoughtfully.

“We will see what becomes of this kidnapping. Whoever the culprit is, they’re a fool for trying something so brash.”

“Unless brash is exactly what they want to be,” Jorja theorized, grinning again as she accepted a fresh martini from the waiter.

Shaw lifted his second glass of wine and contemplated her statement as he sipped.

If she was right, and if he was correct in his assumption that Morgan may be involved, then things were about to get a whole lot more interesting, and fast.

“I don’t want
to get into this again with you,” Lynette said despairingly. “He’s not involved.”

“I know that, Lynette, but you should at least talk with him,” Linc argued.

“If you talk to your father then at least we could officially rule him out,” Quinn called out from Lynette’s kitchen, where she was busy plating some cheese and crackers.

Grant nodded to Lynette. “She’s right. We have to exhaust all options. The police are doing all they can, but we have to do our part.”

Lynette quieted, beaten down by three much louder voices than her own. She understood their points, and yet she knew it was useless. Her father did not kidnap Kennedy. He wasn’t that stupid.

Then again, it wouldn’t hurt to talk with him about it and see what he had to say.

“Fine, I’ll call him tomorrow.” She crossed her arms, sinking back into the cushions of her sofa. Beside her, Linc leaned in to kiss her forehead.

He then turned to his brother. “It’s been forty-eight hours now that she’s been missing. What have the police been doing to find her?”

Grant ran his hands over his face. “Very little, it seems. No witnesses have turned up yet. They’re still canvassing.”

“And the ransom note? There weren’t any prints on it or fibers or anything?”

Grant only shook his head.

Quinn wandered out of the kitchen and set a plate of food down upon the coffee table. She took her seat beside Grant and reached for his hand, squeezing it in her own.

When he met her eyes, she attempted a smile. “We’re going to find her.”

He nodded, desperately wanting to believe her. If only this sick, twisted feeling would leave his stomach and let him think.

“The police will likely talk with both Jorja and Shaw,” Grant said quietly, to no one in particular. “They also want to know our whereabouts the night she was taken.”

“They think one of us did this?” Linc demanded, his already testy temper rising up to scorch him. “Who would be
that
stupid?”

“They’re covering all the bases, Linc,” Grant reminded him. “Given the demands in the ransom letter—”

“Which don’t tell us squat,” Linc fired back, looking frustrated. “For all we know, some lunatic out there has decided it’s his life’s purpose to serve justice to Mads for what she’s done. It could be anybody.”

“But it probably isn’t.” Grant frowned, mulling over the thought. “These things are usually closer to home than that.”

“Says who? The cops?” Linc shot to his feet and began to pace, running his hands through his hair agitatedly. “Whatever it is, we should be out there looking. I should be walking every goddamn street in this city trying to find her.”

Quinn interrupted before Grant could. “I think we need to be asking ourselves a more important question here…” When they all turned to face her, she continued, “So far, someone has gone after both Madison and Kennedy. What’s to say that they won’t go after either of you guys next?”

Both men froze, unsure how to answer that question. Neither really believed it was a possibility, yet they had been wrong on so many levels already…

Lynette suddenly looked very worried as she glanced over at Linc. “She’s right. You should be more careful.”

Linc snorted, brushing off the thought. “I’ll be fine. Grant and I are big boys, we can take care of ourselves.”

Before Grant could add anything, his cell phone began to ring. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID before answering it.

“Hello?”


Hey, buddy. It’s Cy.

Grant frowned and eyed Linc warily. “What can I do for you, Cy?”


I need to talk to you and Linc. Meet me at Amoureux in ten minutes.

“Can’t this wait till tomorrow? It’s late.”


No. Gotta be tonight. I’ll be waiting, see you soon
.”

His cousin hung up, leaving Grant staring down at his phone in irritation.

“Well, what’d he want?” Linc asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets restlessly.

Grant looked at his brother skeptically. “He wants us to meet him at the hotel in ten minutes. Apparently he has something important to tell us.”

“He might know something about Kennedy,” Linc realized. “Let’s go.”

Grant sighed and rose to his feet, staring down at Quinn. “I’ll have my driver take you home. I don’t want you walking around or taking a cab.”

She began to call him a hypocrite for fearing for her safety all the while neglecting his own, but decided against it. He had enough to deal with without her picking pointless fights with him.

“Alright.” She stood up and kissed him, cupping his face in her hand tenderly. “Don’t be too late.”

“I won’t.” He kissed her again, then left with Linc to take his brother’s car to the hotel.

When they arrived,
they found Cy sitting alone in the back corner, three shot glasses and a couple of beer bottles on the table before him. He burped and attempted a lazy smile as he held out his hand to shake theirs.

“Thanks for coming by,” Cy told them as they sat down. He gulped down the rest of his beer and then obnoxiously waved the waitress over for another one. “You guys want a beer?”

“Just tell us what this is about, Cy,” Linc grunted, annoyed to see that his cousin was piss-drunk. Hopefully whatever he was about to tell them was worth hearing.

“Okay, okay,” Cy conceded, his hands tapping nervously on the table as he glanced back and forth at both men. “I think something’s up with Duke.”

Grant stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s been taking this whole Madison thing a bit too seriously. He’s letting it make him crazy,” Cy told them, pausing as the waitress dropped off a fresh beer. He took a hasty sip before continuing. “Look, when we first got to New York, we were trying to think of ways to get Madison to back off. It isn’t right the way she played us and took control this way. I mean, I was fucking pissed about it.”

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