Rulers of Deception (38 page)

Grant frowned. “Is it possible that Cyrus saw to it that Marco would never work as a chauffeur again?”

Shame flushed over Marshall’s face. “You know as well as I what the man was capable of. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn he was both punishing Marco and keeping him from spreading word of the affair.”

Grant nodded and turned away from the window, facing his uncle. He hated seeing the man who was just like a father to him look so defeated. “Why don’t you get some rest?”

Marshall sighed, ignoring Grant’s suggestion. “I’ve always wondered how things could have been different if I’d married Maureen.”

“She was already married,” Grant pointed out.

“Yes but she should have left him. If she had, she might be alive,” Marshall retorted. Sorrow laced in with the anger in his voice. “I always knew it wasn’t a robbery that killed her.”

“Madison says her husband killed her.”

Marshall nodded. “As I said, if she’d gotten away from him, she might be alive.”

Grant considered his words for a moment. “So you knew it wasn’t Cyrus’ doing?”

“Again, it wouldn’t have surprised me. But Harold Gossinger was always a jealous bastard.” Marshall rested his head back against the chair, his eyes closing on a long exhale. In his mind, he pictured Maureen’s beautiful face, bringing a soft smile to his lips. “Go on home, Grant. Leave this old man to his memories.”

Grant’s brow creased with concern as he watched his uncle, wishing there was more he could do. “There’s some things to take care of at the hotel. The carpet needs to be cleaned in Madison’s office.”

“Blood never washes out completely,” Marshall mused. “It’s always there, just like family. Buried deep in the fabric of our lives.”

Grant cast one last look at his uncle before he turned to leave, the words hanging around to plague him all the way back to the hotel.

Wyatt shoved his
way through the cluster of cops and paramedics in the mad search for his wife. He found her seated calmly in one of the conference rooms near her office, flanked by two police officers who were busy asking her more questions.

“Christ, Madison.” Wyatt stormed into the room and lifted her into his arms, not giving a shit that he’d interrupted the cops. His hands roamed over her hair, her face, her back, reassuring himself that she was safe and whole. Their eyes met and held, and he saw the relief in hers that he was there. “I think I broke every traffic law to get here.” He glared down at the cops, sensing their irritation. “Lay off, assholes. My goddamn wife was almost shot.”

Madison couldn’t help the tired smile that lit her face, grateful for his presence. It was enough to shock her out of the dull haze she’d been in while reliving the incident to the police.

“Please give us a moment,” she said to the officers, never looking away from Wyatt. She stared into his eyes as the men left the room and shut the door. The instant they were gone, the cool and controlled mask she’d slipped on for the benefit of the police shattered to pieces. Her hands tightened into fists over his shirt, her eyes on fire with a heated mix of wild relief and vindictive revenge. “I should feel sorry for her, but I don’t. It’s for the best that she’s dead.”

“Who the hell shot her?” Wyatt asked, easing her down into the chair again. He took the seat beside her and kept her hands tightly held in his.

Madison managed a proud smile. “Raoul.”

Wyatt grimaced. “I should have known. I saw him with a gun the other day.”

“I gave it to him.” Madison looked down at their joined hands, running her thumb along his. “I didn’t realize it would save my life.”

“You gave him a gun? Why?” Wyatt demanded, only to pause. “Wait. Let me guess. This was all part of your secret grandmaster plan you wouldn’t let me in on.”

She nodded and looked at him, a sharp gleam in her eyes. “Veronica was the daughter of Marshall’s old driver, the only other person besides Cyrus who knew about the affair Marshall had with Gossinger’s wife.”

“No shit?”

“She blamed us for her father’s untimely death.”

“That’s why she tried to kill you?” Wyatt asked.

Madison laughed, amused despite the near brush with death. “No. She tried to kill me because I tricked her into believing I’d ordered the cartel to kill
her
. The same cartel that she pretended kidnapped her.”

Wyatt blinked, startled by the revelation. “Wait.
What
?”

“Oh, and I suppose I can let you in on another little piece of information now that everything is over,” Madison began, preparing herself for the anger she knew he had every right to feel. “Franco is dead, and has been for some time. The rest of the cartel is in prison. They were never a threat to you, or to any of us.”

For a moment, Wyatt said nothing as he digested this information. Denial hit him first, along with disbelief and confusion. Then came the rage. “I’m going to kill Jimmy.”

“Before you do that, let me tell you the rest,” she interrupted, reaching for his hand so he’d look at her. “Jimmy was working for Veronica to make you believe the cartel was after us. He sent the first bloody threat letter on his own thinking he’d get money from you, but then Veronica hired him to help her. She paid him to leave the threat on your yacht and to help stage the kidnapping. But I got to him halfway through Veronica’s plan and offered him a better deal.”

“Of course you did.” Wyatt let out a dark laugh, running a hand through his hair.

Madison continued. “He told me the little secret he didn’t even tell Veronica, that Franco was dead. Then he agreed to botch her operation and tell me exactly where she was planning on hiding. So I sent Raoul over to pay her a little visit, disguised as a cartel thug. Needless to say she was so terrified she ran over here with all the files she had on us and begged me to call off the hit.”

“What files? You mean the photographs of you, Quinn and Lynette?” Wyatt’s brows creased as the pieces began to fall together.

“Those, and the detailed information on your night in Bogotá, as told by Jimmy, along with a piece citing the accusation of Marshall in Maureen Gossinger’s murder.”

“Christ.” Wyatt bowed his head, absorbing the information. “What a shit storm she created.”

“Exactly. And she planned to use it to take us down. All because of her father.”

“What about that piece of shit that tried to rape you?” Wyatt growled, lifting his face. “I assume he fits into the mix here somewhere.”

“Daniel and Veronica were lovers, believe it or not.” She shrugged, still disturbed by the thought of Daniel. “But he won’t bother us anymore. I’ve got him right where I want him.”

“I’m sure you do.” With a heavy sigh, he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her. It was slow and tender at first, a warm release of frustration and fear. When her arms came around him and she slid into his lap, the kiss deepened as the heat overwhelmed them.

Wyatt had the sudden urge to whisk her away from that place, to get her home where he could savor and cherish her. His plans were demolished when his cell phone went off in his pocket.

“Somebody better be fucking dead,” he muttered, reaching for his phone and answering it. “What?”

“
Hey boss!
” Jimmy’s voice rang cheerfully through the phone.

“You goddamn lying piece of shit,” Wyatt snarled.

Jimmy laughed. “
I take it your old lady told you everything then, huh?
”

“Where the hell are you?”

“
Madison hooked me up with this condo in Belize. Right on the freakin’ water. Can you believe it?
”

“She did
what
?” Wyatt shot Madison a dry look, causing her to grin.

“
She’s a great lady, boss. She took real good care of me
.”

“I hear you returned the favor.”

“
I always love a good con.
” Jimmy chuckled. In the background, Wyatt could hear the sounds of drunken singing and music.

“Are you in a bar?”

“
I’m at the freakin’ beach! It’s a party down here all day long. You gotta come see it some time.
”

Hearing the joy in his old friend’s voice softened some of Wyatt’s anger, though he was still pissed Jimmy had lied to him about the cartel. “So how the hell did you find out Franco was dead?”

“
It didn’t make many headlines in the states, but I got sources. It seemed like a good tactic to get you to help an old friend in need
.”

Wyatt scowled. “You could have just asked me without all the lies, Jimmy.”

“
Hey, it’s more fun this way, don’tcha think?
”

“No, but hearing you say that doesn’t surprise me.” Wyatt shifted the phone and held Madison closer, his eyes meeting hers. “In the end I guess I owe you a thank you for helping my wife.”

“
Think nothin’ of it,
” Jimmy replied. The sound of music and laughter grew louder. “
Gotta run! Looks like they got a conga line goin’. Take care of yourself, boss!
”

“You too, you crazy bastard.” Wyatt smiled as he hung up the phone, staring at it for a second before tucking it back into his pocket. “I can’t believe you bought him a place in paradise.”

Madison looked smug. “He earned it.”

“No, he conned you out of it. Don’t you know the difference?” Wyatt kissed her again, one hand diving into her hair and the other holding her close.

“Jimmy reminds me a lot of you,” Madison said, laughing when Wyatt groaned.

“You did not just say that.”

“What? He does,” she shot back. “Sly, cunning, witty. He even wears a hat just like yours.”

“That’s because he’s a goddamn copycat. I was the original.”

Her eyebrows rose skeptically.

“Maybe he had the hat first,” Wyatt conceded, tipping her chin up with a hard smile. “But everything else he learned from me.”

“Of course.”

Wyatt shot a quick look over his shoulder at the closed door, then turned back to her with a mischievous grin. “Now why don’t we see if we can slip out of here unnoticed? You’ve been here long enough. It’s time I took you home.”

Madison let him help her to her feet. “Why don’t you distract the police while I make a run for it?”

He snorted. “You’re gonna run in those heels?”

“Darling, it’s just an expression. There will be no running involved.” She winked at him deviously. “In fact, I’m going to waltz out of here with my head held high.”

A group of
police officers crowded the lobby of the hotel, standing watch as Veronica’s body was led out on a gurney in a black body bag. Lynette slipped through the front doors just as the gurney passed through, and her eyes widened at the sight of it. One of the officers politely grabbed her arm to bring her inside and out of the way.

“Where’s my husband?” she demanded, staring at the officer with wild eyes. When he gave her a blank look, she let out an impatient huff of breath. “Linc Vasser. Where is he?”