“I have to warn you. Someone has to. I am the only one capable of telling you what you need to know. I do this hoping that if the worst should happen, we will both have recourse.”
“Recourse for what?” she asked, impatient to discover the truth that had alluded her since the night of his murder. “Tell me, damn it.”
Hagan carried on. “Throughout her life, my sister, Ophelia, has shown some unstable tendencies. I’ve included evidence of that in the box where you found this video.” So he’d known what he was going to do from the moment he’d made the recording. “She is volatile and I fear that may cause problems for both you and me.”
This was the warning. “Oh my God,” she said, hoping it wasn’t going to become her catchphrase. “I can’t… Oh my God.”
“Ophelia has threatened my life on many occasions. She has made it her life’s work to compete with me. In our newest venture, I fear she may be driven to extremes.”
“Pothos,” Harlow said, figuring out which venture he meant.
Clueless as to how much he knew of Ophelia’s conniving, she hoped to learn what was in his head.
“I compiled everything you see in the safe deposit box for a reason. If something happens to me, I believe the only person who may be left to control her, is you.”
It was laughable that he thought anyone could control his sister. From what he was saying, Ophelia had been deranged for a while. Yet, even in the time Harlow had known her, there had been a marked escalation in her lunacy.
“I wish,” Harlow said.
“If something happens to me, it will be by Ophelia’s hand.” Hagan had known how crazy his sister was even before her confrontation with him the night Ryske came back to life. He’d always known. “I need someone to know what she’s capable of. I have included her educational and medical history as background. But the real truth is in the file about my parents’ death. It wasn’t an accident. Ophelia killed our parents; she confessed to me. The maintenance man she was sleeping with gave her instructions on how to rig the gas line. It looked like an accident, but it wasn’t. She was tired of them dictating her life and wanted to be in control. That was her justification. My sister is capable of murder. She’s done it before and I doubt she’d blink before doing it again if the notion took her. You have to be warned. You believe she is your friend, an ally, but you are in dangerous territory… I’ve included money that will cover your stake in Pothos. If you find this, and I am gone, I advise you to take the money and run as far away as you can because you’re next. She will come for you and she will kill you… If she can do it to her own parents and her own brother… why would she blink before doing it to you?”
If Harlow needed any kind of confirmation that going back to Ophelia’s was a bad idea, that question was it. “I hear you,” she murmured, resting her chin on her palm.
“If you need leverage against her, use the file on our parents. But be warned, she’ll retaliate. You may push her to the edge. Extricate yourself from our project. You won’t manage to oust her. She’s been having an affair with Anthony Yarker for months. He’s infatuated with her and was insanely jealous of Ryske. For a while, I believed his jealousy could cause a rift between them. One that may cause Yarker to hurt my sister… Not in a physical way, he’s not the type, but in any other way he could.
“Don’t underestimate Gil Parratt either. He’s ruthless, but his love for Lydia is real, hence why he too despised Ryske. If you need to get to Parratt, Yarker and Lydia are the only two people in his life he’ll listen to. You should also know that his wife has evidence of some deviant sexual practice they used to partake in. I don’t know the particulars, but the nature of that evidence is compelling enough to keep them married. Parratt doesn’t want the world to know the embarrassing truth, and she wants access to his money.”
Taking another drink, he paused to ponder.
“What else?” she whispered, lapping up every fact he spilled.
Hagan eventually let his attention sink back to the camera. “You’re a unique woman, Harlow Sweeting. You have the ability to make a man hate you and love you at the same time. Don’t underestimate yourself. You’re capable. You’re smart. If you listen to this warning and extricate yourself, you will make it through.” On a deep breath, his focus fell to the liquor in his glass. “I told you to avenge him, that it was your job. Ophelia’s involvement changes things. She is dangerous. This battle should have been fought between you and I… But now I fear we’re caught in a spiral that could be the end of us all… Some days I’m so full of fight and others… all I can think about is joining her.” He closed his eyes in a blink. When they opened again, they were on the screen. “Be warned, Miss Sweeting. I love my sister, but I fear her, and you should too. Be safe.”
His hand moved though his eyes never left the lens. His focus reminded her of his last moment of life. Their gazes had stayed locked until he’d collapsed and perished.
The screen went black.
Frozen in time with her lips parted an inch, Harlow listened to the echo of silence. There was probably ambient noise coming from the offices beyond; she didn’t hear any of it. All she could feel were Hagan’s eyes on her. They were gone from the screen, yet she could still feel them.
Time ceased to matter. A minute or an hour could’ve passed while she sat still there without saying a word or making a sound.
The door opened and someone came striding in. “There was a helluva line at the coffee shop,” Rupert said. “But I got there eventually.” He appeared in her peripheral vision when he slid the coffee and pastries onto the table then turned to prop himself against it. She still didn’t move. “Harlow, what’s wrong?” With a finger under her chin, he raised her attention. Even though he exhaled a laugh and smiled, she could read his concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I…”
“Harlow?”
“I have something for you,” she said. “But I have to send an email first, can I do that?”
“Sure,” he said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Mm hmm,” she said, springing to action. “You don’t happen to have a blank USB drive I can have, do you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Harlow sent an email to Maze with the video attached. She didn’t know if he’d get it any time soon, but at least he’d have a copy of Hagan’s message if anything happened to her. Using the USB drive Rupert gave her, she made a copy to take with her. She tucked it into her bag and then returned the laptop to him.
“Come with me a minute,” she said.
They went back to the vault to retrieve the safe deposit box again. Upon returning to the private room, Harlow open the box without showing Rupert what was inside, and began to remove the piles of money.
“Oh my God, Harlow,” he said as she stacked the bundles.
When it was all out, she was discreet about slipping the original USB back inside and locking up the box again.
“It’s yours,” she said. “The money you gave me, I gave it to Hagan and… I guess he never used it.”
Although that wasn’t a complete truth, it wasn’t a malicious lie. Harlow meant to protect him. At least this way, her ex wasn’t taking drug money. The provenance of the cash wasn’t known, but Hagan wasn’t as squeaky clean as most people thought.
Rupert was going to be a father and a husband. She needed him to be clean as a whistle, and completely clueless, if the cops ever questioned him. It was only right. He’d done nothing wrong and shouldn’t be implicated in any way.
Harlow regretted ever involving him. Life had changed so much since she’d come to him for help. Her life was so much more dangerous while his was so much more stable.
“This money has… it’s been sitting here all this time and you… you didn’t know?”
She shook her head. To break the tension of the moment, she grinned and grabbed his hand. “This is perfect! Just when you need it for the house and the wedding and the baby.”
�
�It will take the pressure off but…” He looked at her. “Why did he need it?”
Inhaling, she lost her ease to get serious. “You loaned me money and I have repaid it. That’s it.”
“That’s it,” he muttered, reading between the lines. “The money from your half of the apartment sale will come through soon. I’ll transfer it as soon as we have it.”
“Rupe, you don’t have to—”
“I do,” he said. “You paid into that place too… How will Ryske feel about you giving me this money back?”
Her brow lowered. “What does Ryske have to do with it?”
“Well, you told us to keep the money from our wedding fund and now you’re giving me this… won’t he want the money?”
Smiling, she wrapped both of her arms around one of his. “Believe me, he’ll be thrilled that we’ve paid this back.”
Because it was one thing off his plate. Whatever he’d saved to repay Rupert could be put into his business venture on the other side of town. It wouldn’t hurt that they’d no longer be beholden to her ex either.
“I don’t trust him, Harlow,” he said. Her grip loosened, at least until he sighed. “But… I do think he loves you.”
Grinning, she tightened her grip to bring herself closer. “I think he does too.”
“Do you need anything else?” he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Yes,” she said. “I need the paperwork to authorize someone else on this box.”
“Someone else who?” It didn’t take long for him to guess. “Ryske? You want to authorize him on Jarvis Hagan’s box? I thought they didn’t like each other.”
“That’s an understatement.”
Rupert went to a drawer in her corner and retrieved a crisp new paper bag to pack the money into. “You want to add him anyway?”
“Yes,” Harlow said. “Any string in there?”
Rupert opened a separate drawer and gave her a small ball of twine and a pair of scissors. Harlow cut a short length and tied the key onto the O-ring of her necklace.
“Why do you want to add Ryske?” Rupert asked.
“Because if anything happens to me, what’s in there can help him.”
“Anything happens…” He paused. “Harlow, what do you think will happen to you?”
The potential of what she’d found was beginning to sink in. Hope began to infuse her and joy began to creep in too. “With that in my arsenal, very little.”
He became dubious. “Why do you suddenly look so overjoyed?”
“Because I just caught a break, Rupert,” she said, shaking out her arms. “And it’s about damn time.”
27
Having decided that going back to Ophelia’s wasn’t an option, Harlow set off for home. Even though her list of things to do in the city wasn’t complete, she was eager to see her crew. Telling them about what she’d found at SweSec was too important to put off.
Using some of the money that she’d swiped from Ophelia for cab fare got her back to Floyd’s quicker than hoofing it would. She could barely contain her excitement at the prospect of going in and surprising them.
Getting there to find the place empty was something of a letdown.
She should’ve known no one was there when she had to pick the lock to get in. Knocking would’ve ruined the surprise and she just assumed they were being safety conscious. If folks in the neighborhood knew that the refurbishment of the bar was finished, they might assume that it was open and saunter in. From the looks of what she found, no one had been drinking in Floyd’s. It was still pristine.
She went upstairs and took a shower, then changed into her own clothes and put away the things she’d brought from Ophelia’s. Unpacking was symbolic. A gesture that said she was back and wasn’t ever returning to Ophelia’s service.
Figuring that the guys would return eventually, she made coffee and ate. No one had come back, so she set about making a copy of the recording she’d made the night Hagan died. Well, not a complete copy, she may have omitted most of the early conversation.
Once she was done, she held up the USB and smiled. It was a weapon. Not a gun or a knife, but it should protect her.
Tucking the secret weapon into her cleavage, she hid the copy of the SweSec recording and went about cleaning the place up. The fact that the guys weren’t there, and that Ryske hadn’t been at the club on Friday, played on her mind.
The longer she was at Floyd’s, alone, the more uneasy she became. Something was going on. She wouldn’t find out what it was pottering about at home. Given that Harlow had her own list of things to do, she decided to combine two goals. She’d find her crew and neutralize Ophelia at the same time.
Sliding on her pointed full-finger ring, she almost felt like herself again. Almost. Until she had her bracelet on, she wouldn’t be whole. Still, fixating on what she didn’t have wouldn’t get her anywhere. So, she filled a gym bag with a few essentials, and locked up when she left.
It didn’t take long to get to Felipe’s. She’d been eager to see the boy and check that he was behaving. Carrying on with her two birds, one stone theme, she checked on Felipe’s well-being and took the chance that he’d know where the Floyd’s crew were.
He didn’t. Neither did Martina or Camila except to say that no one had seen them around since Friday night. The timing suggested they’d gone somewhere right before the Pothos night began. But Maze had been at Windsor’s that night. Why would he have been there while the guys waited around for him? He had to be with them because he sure wasn’t at home.
There would be an explanation. Harlow, at least, got some reassurance. No one had said anything about injuries or drama, so wherever the crew were, everyone was safe.
She got more good news when Felipe explained that his father wouldn’t be coming back to stay with them. While sharing the news Felipe lightened with happiness and she saw glimpses of the glittering innocence of the child he was.
Being free of that fear of his father made such a difference to his personality. She wondered if Ryske had been the same and if maybe that was why he’d chosen Floyd’s over his own family.
Felipe volunteered to help Camila with Tiffy; another sign that his mood was better. While they were changing the baby’s diaper, Martina explained that family services had basically given her an ultimatum. If Pablo came back, they’d have to take Felipe into care.
It warmed Harlow that Martina had chosen her son over the man who had hurt them. But she didn’t expect Martina to tear up and thank her. Through her show of emotion, Martina explained that Harlow’s help and the assistance of the guys at Floyd’s had made her see that there was happiness out there. That she didn’t have to be dependent on Pablo. That’s what had given her the confidence to agree to the parole conditions placed on Pablo. Those conditions stated that he wasn’t allowed near the neighborhood, or Martina or Felipe.
After reassuring Martina that she’d talk to Dover about work at the bar and promising the guys would look out for her and Felipe, Harlow was interrupted by Tiffy being put on her lap.
The little one was gorgeous and while Harlow was making Camila promise to bring pictures to the bar so she could put them on the fridge, Tiffy pulled Harlow’s arm up to begin sucking on Ryske’s star. The guy wasn’t even there and Tiffy was choosing him over everyone else.
Light was fading outside, so Harlow made her excuses to leave sooner than she wanted to. It was so nice to be among friends. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to relax and enjoy herself. But she couldn’t switch off yet, there was still work to do.
The night was still young.
To a lot of people, going to Windsor’s might seem like a crazy idea. The way Harlow saw it, she didn’t have a choice. The man she was looking for hung out there during the week. The danger came in the form of the others related to Pothos who did the same.
Some patrons frequented Windsor’s for drinks and to gamble. Without Pothos and the hookers, it was more subdued. More like a social club than a drug de
n or brothel.
When Harlow went in and up the stairs, she walked onto Windsor’s main floor to see there were a few people milling around. No one paid much attention to her. Employees would recognize her as someone affiliated with those who ran the club. Patrons would have seen her around too. So although a few people glanced her way as she crossed the room, no one intercepted her.
Several of Ophelia’s minions were seated in the central booth. They were lower down in the ranks; none of them were her target. If they recognized her, they didn’t care enough about her to chase her down. Word of what she’d done to Ophelia probably hadn’t reached them yet. Assumption was on her side in more than one way. Ophelia would never in a million years assume that she’d go to Windsor’s. For a while, she had a narrow window of time to exploit, and that was what she planned to do.
Long curtains were drawn across the walls during the week. They fastened at the ceiling and floor to cover the doors to the private bedrooms. To anyone who didn’t know otherwise, the gathered fabric was just part of the décor. As she was scrutinizing how the sheen in the metallic thread embroidered through the curtains caught the light, someone moved into her peripheral vision.
It wasn’t the person she was looking for, but when she turned, Harlow found the woman was intrigued, probably by her presence. After a moment of eye contact, they began to move toward each other and met near the center of the room.
“Harlow.”
“Lydia,” she said. “This is unexpected.”
“This is a good place for Gil and me to meet,” Lydia said, wrapping herself in her own embrace and rubbing her upper arms.
Discretion was required because Gil Parratt was married. His wife probably didn’t like him to gallivant around with his mistress. Harlow figured the wife knew about the affair, especially if what Hagan had said in his recording was accurate. But no woman would want to be humiliated by their husband flaunting their indiscretions around town.
“Is he around?”
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