The Reckoning (The O'Neils Book 6)

by Kathryn Shay

“I just want everybody to get along.” Kinley’s tone was sarcastic.

  They all burst out laughing.

  After the exchange, they walked toward the track to the location of the meet-up place given in the promo material. The scents of motor oil and the smell of new grass had settled the air around them. Dylan loved the sights and sounds at racetracks and took Hogan to the ones nearer New York frequently. “I’m looking forward to this. In all the years I’ve been interested in stock car racing, I never did this.”

  Bailey said, “Kinley, Dylan drove cars for a while.”

  “Where?”

  “Minor tracks and a lifetime ago.” Something about Kinley’s tone when he asked. “You ever driven cars?”

  “Yeah. Hmm, we’re here.”

  Dylan grabbed his arm. “Where?”

  Kinley sighed. “Monte Carlo.”

  “You drove a formula one race car?” He referred to the famous Grand Prix.

  “Yeah, a couple of times.” He seemed embarrassed. “I was in France on business.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.” Dylan gave him a look of genuine appreciation. He was impressed. “Maybe we can talk about it later.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Okay everybody.” A man stood on a raised platform so he could see all of them. “Let’s talk brass tacks.”

  “You’re here for the Poconos Racing Experience, a premier driving experience. The Pocono track is 2.5 miles long and you’ll go around three times. We’ve had over 100,000 satisfied customers. 2.5 million miles have been driven and we’ve been in business 20 years. Nobody ever died.

  “There’s a chart over there explaining what the process is.”

  Dylan walked up close to the chart.

  Arrival and Registration 10 min.

  Technical and safety briefing. 40 min.

  Racecar orientation 10 min.

  Getting suited up and ready 10 minutes. You can take pictures then but make it fast.

  Driving 10-80 min.

  Dylan knew they’d paid for only 20 minutes of driving. That was a hefty sum, but they could all afford it.

  “Any questions?”

  Going through the process was fast and after they suited up Kinley said, “Michael came out to take pictures.”

  Aidan and Bailey stepped up next to him. Dylan and Liam meandered over. And Pat took a space on the end. Then with a snap, the outing of all the O’Neil siblings was preserved forever.

  When Pat arrived at the pub early Sunday morning, he found three trucks in the driveway. That was odd. One bore the label, Eckles Construction. He got out of his car and headed in the back way, keys in hand. But the door was already unlocked. Who was here? Had Kinley brought in construction workers. For what? He heard noises in the room that housed a couch and kids’ play area, between the kitchen and pub proper. Vaguely he recalled Kinley saying something about that space, but it was months ago and he couldn’t remember what was decided.

  He headed to the room. Three men had taken pictures down from the walls and two had picked up the couch. “What are you doing here?”

  The guys frowned but put down the couch. “We’re getting ready to demo this room.”

  “Demo it?”

  “Knock down that wall.” He indicated the one to the pub.

  “You’ll do no such thing. Who ordered this?”

  “Kinley Moran. This place is his.”

  “Not all his. Take a break. I’m calling him. Don’t touch another thing.”

  “You got it, man.”

  The guys went outside and Pat sat on the couch. It was two steps forward, three back with his half-brother. He punched in Kinley’s private number, which he’d given to all the guys and Bailey. The phone rang several times and finally he heard, “Moran.”

  “Kinley, where are you?”

  “In church.”

  “Like hell.”

  “Long story. Let me get outside.” When he came back on the line, Pat told Kinley the story.

  “I arranged for all that when I first bought into the pub. That was months ago.”

  “Did you forget you did it?”

  “No.”

  Silence.

  “I canceled the order. I told my assistant to call Eckles and work out the financials.”

  “They’re here.”

  “So you said. Can you let me talk to Bill Eckles?”

  “Yeah.” Pat walked outside. “It’s Kinley Moran. He wants to talk to you.”

  Bill took the phone and Pat walked a few feet away.

  Soon he heard, “Mr. O’Neil, he wants to talk to you again. We’ll be clearing out.”

  “Okay, thanks. And um, sorry I was so rude.” Then into the cell, Pat said, “Yeah?”

  “Sorry about that. Did they do any damage?”

  “Just took some pictures down. But if I hadn’t come in this morning, we’d be missing a wall to the pub.”

  “Well, no harm, no foul.”

  That pissed him off. Sometimes Pat forgot Kinley was a billionaire who commanded an empire.

  “Whatever you say, Kinley.” And Pat disconnected.

  The event reminded him that not long ago, Kinley got his defenses up. But they’d moved past that. Now, Pat’s trust waned. Maybe that was a good thing. He’d begun to like the guy.

  As Kinley and Jamie rode to the photography show, he stared out the window. He’d won the battle, but that was about it.

  She reached out to take his hand. “Don’t be sad. Everybody fights.”

  “I know. But this is important to me.”

  “I’m riding with you.”

  “After I raised hell about that.”

  He’d been furious with her when she refused to attend Aidan’s new photography show with him. She’d given in, but once again, it was a Pyrrhic victory.

  “Try to enjoy that I’m here. That you’re going to your brother’s show. Both are new additions to your life, Kinley.”

  She was right. “I’ll try. I promise.” He squeezed her hand and kept hold of it. “I hate to be such a grumpy old man.”

  “Not old.”

  He laughed at the comment. “Okay, no more grumpy-me either.”

  They swerved up to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and

  Jamie got out when Michael opened the door. “This is a gorgeous building.”

  Kinley joined her. He gazed up the flight of steps to the iconic structure. “Haven’t you ever been to the Met?”

  “No. The Arts were last on my list to survive.”

  That made him feel bad for her.

  The front was all lit up for the opening of an exhibit of Aidan O’Neil’s Photography. A banner hung outside to proclaim the show.

  “Did you know that Aidan’s sister-in-law runs the Modern Art wing and asked for the opening to be here?” Kinley knew the history of the Ludzecky sisters and their accomplishments, though he’d never met them, of course.

  “Which one?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Which sister? I know all of them. They frequent the pub. Haven’t you ever met them?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you’re in for a treat when you see them.”

  They climbed the stairs, walked through the door and the big foyer, which sported looming ceilings, stone carvings and paintings hanging on the wall. Jamie said, “They’re all together.”

  Kinley looked where she pointed. Seven women who had to be the Ludzecky sisters, stood in a group, greeting people. “Hot damn. They’re blinding. All that blond hair!”

  “Aren’t they beautiful?” Her words were wistful.

  He turned to her. “Not as beautiful as you.” He meant the words.

  “I know that’s not true.”

  “You don’t know your effect on men.”

  “Maybe, but you’re the only man I care about affecting.”

  “Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

  She whispered, “Show me later.”

  The O’Neil brothers, minus Aidan, approach
ed them. “Come on in, guys.” This from Liam.

  Kinley said, “I’m can’t wait to see more of Aidan’s work.”

  “It’s down this hall.” They came to a doorway and went down a long corridor to an arched wing. “This is it.”

  Standing in the entryway, Kinley scanned the area. About forty photos graced the walls. “He has more work than this, of course,” Liam put in “but this is focused on landscapes and many of them are new to the public.”

  “Ah.”

  Aidan, who’d been speaking with a very sophisticated-looking woman, noticed them and hurried over. “Hey, you made it.” Aidan clapped Kinley on the back.

  “I said I would.”

  “I’m glad. Shall I give you a tour?”

  “Of your work? I’m honored.”

  Jamie said, “I hitched a ride with Kinley. Can I come, too?”

  Aidan kissed her cheek. “Of course.”

  His photos were amazing. At one, Kinley asked, “How did you capture the blue of the Caribbean in the morning?”

  “The right time of day. The right weather. But I took a lot of shitty ones before I got this shot.”

  “It’s amazing,” Jamie said. “I’ve never been there of course, but I could wake up to this photo every morning and feel like I am there.”

  “You can have it, if you want, honey.”

  “No way. And don’t you dare gift it to me.”

  Another photo. “Where’s this?” Kinley asked.

  “Upstate New York. Keuka Lake. Clay and Bailey own a lake house there.” His face flushed. “It’s been the scene of many romantic trysts.”

  “You and C.J.?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “I’ll have to ask her about it,” Jamie teased.

  “Go ahead. It changed everything for us.”

  A third photo, of beautiful cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. “Now this landscape I know. I’ve been to this village on the French Riviera.”

  “You have?” Aidan asked.

  “Yes. On business.”

  “I didn’t know Eze had any business except tourism.”

  “It doesn’t. It’s known for its beauty and charm. Business was miles away. But I made the half-hour commute to Nice because I like the town.”

  Paddy and Mary Kate O’Neil stood at the next photo. “Hey, Pa. Glad you could make it.” Aidan kissed Mary Kate’s cheek. “Mama.”

  “Hello, lad.” She turned to Kinley. Moved closer to him and shocked him by kissing his cheek. “Hello, Kinley. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Kinley was shocked. “Thanks, Mrs. O’Neil.”

  “I insist you call me Mary Kate.”

  “Mary Kate, then.”

  Kinley spoke with Paddy in an amicable exchange, but he couldn’t keep his mind off of the welcome given to him by a woman he resented all his life.

  Chapter 11

  * * *

  Jamie came into work early in order to see Kinley before her day started. They hadn’t even fit in a phone call because Kinley had some pressing issues at work and Jamie concentrated on her school work. But when she knocked on his office door, he didn’t buzz the intercom. Huh. He always got here before everyone else.

  She retreated to her desk, sat and checked her email.

  One from him read,

  I’m out of the office today, Jamie. I have a client who’s unhappy and I’m taking him sailing this morning. (Hope it stays warm.) Am waiting at the dock for him now. While I’m gone, you can…

  The rest were instructions for what to accomplish in his absence. She found herself disappointed, but got to work. At ten, when she usually came in, her office phone buzzed. “Moran Associates. Jamie speaking.”

  “Hello, Ms. Ralston.” His voice was low. Husky.

  “Hello, Mr. Moran.”

  “Did you get my email from this morning?”

  “Yes. I hope you have a productive day.”

  “This isn’t how I expected to take my boat out for its maiden voyage this year.”

  “Ah. I didn’t even know you had a boat.”

  “You’ll get to see it sometime.” He chuckled. “I’ll buy Ben a captain’s hat.”

  “Aw.”

  “I’m calling because I’m on the cruiser now and can’t seem to get into my email at work. That’s why I sent the note to you on my personal account.”

  “I wondered why. Do you want me to get tech up here?”

  “If you can’t get in, we will. I’d like you to go into my office and try to access my messages from there.”

  “You lock your door when you’re out.”

  “I’ll give you the keypad password.”

  A hesitation. “You said you don’t give that to anybody.”

  “I trust you.” A pause. “We’ve come a long way.”

  “Which delights me. Give me the code.”

  The door unlocked, she went inside and hurried to his desk and put his desk phone on speaker. “What now?”

  “Here’s my email password.”

  “Doesn’t that change every day?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, I’ve typed it. Hey, I got in.”

  “Is there anything that stands out?”

  The spam had been weeded out. She went down the twenty new emails. “One has the header new client. And, hmm, one’s from the IRS. Kinley, it’s marked urgent.”

  “Seriously? Click into it and read the contents to me.

  Mr. Moran,

  This is the third and last warning we’ll send. There are serious questions on your estimated last-quarter taxes that we’d like to address with you, but there’s been no response to our emails, certified letter or work phone messages. If this isn’t addressed by the end of the business day, we’ll proceed with our usual charges.

  “Charges, what does that mean, Kinley? Is it money or legal stuff?”

  “It’d be money. If corporations make over a thousand dollars in the first three months of the year, you have to pay quarterly taxes. A half percent of taxed income is due, plus 3 percent interest is charged.”

  “Is that a lot for you?”

  “The firm’s quarterly taxes border on exorbitant.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t understand this. The taxes were sent in. I read the accountant’s document and had it proofed in house. Nigel posted them.”

  “And the IRS has tried to contact you before?”

  “I’ve heard nothing from them.” He thought for a moment. “Give me their contact information. It’s probably at the end of the email.”

  She recited it to him. “Let me know what happens.”

  “I’ll text you. Probably from my other phone.” Where they could talk freely.

  After they disconnected, she was staring at the computer when she heard, “What the hell are you doing in Mr. Moran’s office?”

  Glancing at the entry, she saw Nigel Pembroke in the doorway.

  Fuck, what had she done?

  “What’re you doing in this office at the CEO’s computer?”

  Standing, she smoothed down her skirt and circled the desk. “I don’t report to you, Nigel. It’s none of your business why I’m here.”

  “How did you get in?” When she wouldn’t answer, he took out his phone. “This is Nigel Pembroke. I have a situation at Mr. Moran’s office. I want two guards up here.”

  “You have to be kidding? Kinley…Mr. Moran will fire you when he finds out you reported me for following his instructions.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  “No.”

  He punched in another number. It rang five times, then the voicemail message came up. “Mr. Moran, we have a security issue at your office. It’s important you call or come here.”

  Two guards came into the office, one dressed in a blue uniform with yellow patches, another in a suit. The latter said, “What’s going on?”

  “I found this woman breaking into Mr. Moran’s office, then his computer.”

  His
eyebrows shot up. “How could she possibly do that? The codes are confidential. We don’t even know them.”

  “Somehow she got them.”

  Shaking his head, the man crossed to Jamie. His nametag read Tom Halstead. “You’re the new hire, right? Ms. Ralston? We’ve met a few times.”

  “Yes. How are you Mr. Halstead?”

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked without answering. His expression was confused.

  “Mr. Moran called me and asked me to check something on his computer. That’s how I got the codes for entry and the computer.”

  “That’s a lie.” Nigel sounded peevish. “He would have asked me.”

  “Well, he didn’t.” She handed the guard her phone. “Check for yourself. He called me on my personal line.”

  Halstead checked the phone. “That’s Mr. Moran’s work cell.”

  Nigel joined them and looked over Tom’s shoulder. “We’ll still need confirmation.”

  “I’ll phone him now, and you’ve left him a message. We should get a return call.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” Jamie said. “He’s on his boat with a client. No reception out on the water except the emergency radio.”

  “How convenient.” Nigel moved in closer to Halstead. “Escort her out of the building.”

  “What?” Now Halstead sounded mad. “No. We have to wait to hear from him. I only take orders from him.”

  “All right, then take her somewhere and keep her under surveillance. But don’t give her access to any phone or computer connected to the company.”

  “For God’s sake, Nigel.” Jamie was more than annoyed now. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Halstead said, “I’m sorry Ms. Ralston. You’ll have to come with me. You can wait for Mr. Moran in our office.”

  “He won’t be back till the end of the day.”

  “We’ll make you comfortable.”

  “My son needs to be gotten off the bus. His usual caregiver is away.”

  Halstead took out his phone. “Who should I call?”

  “Bailey’s Irish Pub. I’ll talk to anyone who answers.”

  Nigel said, “Mr. Moran is on bad terms with the owners of the place. Maybe they put her up to this.”

  “That’s not true. He’s their brother.”