Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2021

by Anna J. Stewart

  Armstrong sat forward in his seat. “You went through the old man’s office? Were you looking to get yourself killed?”

  “What were you looking for?” Mingus queried.

  Davis reached into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out the photo he’d swiped. He dropped it in the center of the table then pushed it toward his brother. “This.”

  Mingus and Simone both reached for it at the same time, elbowing each other to get the first look. Mingus deferred to his sister and her mood swings that could prove to be problematic given the late-night hour.

  “Who are these people?” Simone asked.

  “It’s a photo of dad and Alexander Balducci when they were children. I think that man is their father. I saw a copy of it on the wall at Balducci’s home this afternoon and I remembered seeing it in Dad’s office years ago.”

  Mingus snatched the photo from Simone and seconds later Parker snatched it from him. Davis said nothing as it passed from one sibling to the other, each of them studying it intently.

  “What do you guys know about our family tree?” Davis finally questioned.

  “Do we have a family tree?” Ellington responded. “Personally, I always thought we were it.”

  “The old people never talked much about our family,” Parker interjected. “All the grandparents were dead before any of us were born. They were both only children, so we didn’t have any aunts and uncles.”

  “Or so we thought,” Davis interjected. “Because it seems Balducci is our uncle Alexander.”

  “And Dad told you this?” Simone asked, looking skeptical.

  “Dad hasn’t said much at all,” Davis answered. “Your parents just declared a family meeting on Sunday to tell us all the family secrets they’ve been hiding.”

  “Ain’t that some shiggity!” Mingus muttered under his breath.

  “I definitely don’t feel bad now,” Armstrong said. “If Mingus didn’t know, then surely none of us would have known.”

  “That’s true,” Vaughan concurred. “Because Mingus knows everything about everybody.”

  “Well, I didn’t know that,” their brother responded.

  Davis shook his head. “First, Mom has a secret son and now Dad has a secret brother. It’s some bull—”

  “Watch your language!” Vaughan admonished. “I have delicate ears.”

  Simone rolled her eyes. “I am so confused,” she said. “So, you’re saying our grandfather is the white guy in this picture, but he’s related to Daddy and not to Mommy?”

  “Keep up, Simone,” Parker teased.

  “I thought I was. But Daddy’s the parent who looks the least interracial. And we’ve seen pictures of his mother. She was definitely a Black woman. I just assumed his father was, too.”

  Parker leaned back in his seat, his arms folded over his broad chest. “Did you pay attention in science class, Simone, when they discussed genetics? If I remember correctly, there was a whole segment on recessive genes and dominant genes. Did you really never give our assorted eye colors any consideration? Blue eyes are recessive, but you must get the gene for blue eyes from both of your parents.”

  “Did I really care?” Simone snapped.

  “Personally, I did always wonder why you all were as pale as you are,” Vaughan quipped.

  “Our mother is white,” Simone said flippantly. “Not sure that one was hard to figure out. Science class or no science class.”

  Ellington held up a hand. “It’s late and some of you are getting punchy, so let’s cut to the chase. The parents plan on giving us a history lesson this Sunday. But since we’re all together right now, I might as well update you all. I know Mom plans to have a conversation with each of you individually, but...” His voice trailed off momentarily before he took a breath and continued. “The FBI arrested the man who was trying to shake down Mom and Dad. He’s no one any of us knows.”

  “How did he find out about Mom’s secret?” Davis asked.

  “From what Mingus was able to discover, he worked for the adoption agency. He happened to see a news article on Mom being a federal court judge, remembered what happened when, and thought he could make a quick buck.”

  “I hope they put him under the jail,” Simone sniped. “Because that was shady as hell!”

  “He’ll likely get a few years,” Ellington said, “and no possibility of parole.”

  “What about her firstborn son?” Davis asked. “Will we ever meet our older brother? Sorry, Parker,” he said, shooting his brother a look.

  Parker shrugged. “No need to apologize. He is the oldest. He’s got me by a couple of years.”

  Ellington and Mingus exchanged a look.

  “He’s not listed with the adoption registry as wanting to be reunited with his birth family,” Mingus said. “So, Mom has decided not to pursue it. She did register herself in case he ever comes looking, but she’s decided not to open that door until he wants to do so.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes taking it all in.

  “So that’s it,” Davis said finally. “Her secret goes back to being a secret?”

  “We need to respect her decision,” Parker admonished. “I think she’s right. If he doesn’t want to be found, then we should leave him alone.”

  “It wouldn’t be fair to disrupt his life if that’s not what he wants,” Armstrong intoned.

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious about him?” Simone questioned.

  “Not really,” Parker said. “And it doesn’t look like he’s much interested in us.”

  Mingus shrugged. “He was raised by a good family. He’s very close to his adoptive parents. That may have something to do with why he’s never been interested in finding Mom. Who knows? But he seems to have a great life and that’s why Mom wants to let it go. So, let it go.”

  “I agree,” Vaughan interjected. “Since we found out, we’ve all been off our game worrying about how it was going to affect us.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Simone chimed in, rolling her eyes once again. “I wasn’t that bothered.”

  Vaughan gave her a look. “My point being, our family dynamics don’t change. We go on as usual and worry about it another day.”

  Armstrong nodded. “It wasn’t like we were all going to have some kumbaya moment and suddenly be the best of friends,” he said. “In fact, we don’t know what was going to happen or if anything was going to come of it at all.”

  “And you don’t think we should at least try?” Davis questioned.

  “Let it go,” Mingus repeated. “We’ve got more than enough going on right now to worry about. Just let it go.”

  Ellington looked at each of them. “Let Mom bring it up. Talk to her when she’s ready. Listen to her and stop judging her choices. And try to understand why she’s made this decision. Because this isn’t about any of us. It’s only about Mom and her son Fabian.”

  The silence billowed around the space a second time as they mulled over the comments.

  Ellington broke through the quiet, changing the subject. “What do you need from us tonight, Davis?”

  Davis shook his head slowly. “Help me figure out what’s going on. I seem to have lost control and I’m having a hard time making all the pieces fit.”

  “Well, I want answers, too,” Simone interjected. “You still dating that woman?”

  Davis cut his eyes in her direction. “Neema doesn’t have anything to do with any of this, Simone, so why are you asking about her?”

  “Because something about her feels off and I want to make sure she’s not playing my little brother, that’s why!”

  The brothers all laughed.

  Armstrong shook his head. “He’s not yours anymore, Simone.”

  Parker said, “She’s still as bad as she was when Davis was born. Simone declared he was her baby and she wouldn’t let any of us near
him!”

  “He’s still mine,” Simone said, feigning a pout. “He will always be mine.”

  “I’ll be glad when you have that baby, Simone, so you can shift your focus,” Davis said.

  Simone laughed. “Like that’s going to change anything!” She stood and moved behind his chair to give him a hug, then moved to sit back down.

  “Why don’t we just talk it through and see if that helps,” Armstrong suggested.

  Davis agreed, giving them all a nod. “So, nothing was out of order, no problems I was aware of, and then Dad commanded me to help Balducci.”

  “Help him do what?”

  “Slip money into Gaia’s pocket without her knowing where it came from.”

  “What are we missing?” Vaughan asked. “Who was Gaia to Mr. Balducci?”

  Davis and Mingus exchanged a look. Mingus shrugged.

  “Gaia was Balducci’s daughter,” Davis answered. He paused for moment, dropping into reflection before saying, “That would have made her our first cousin.”

  An exchange of looks swept around the table, none of them bothering to comment.

  “Keep going,” Armstrong prompted.

  “Then someone shot up my house.”

  “Where are we with that investigation?” Mingus asked.

  Armstrong shook his head. “Dead end.”

  “Actually, not quite,” Parker interjected. “Ballistics came back tonight on the bullets you pulled out of Davis’s wall. They are identical to the bullets pulled from a body last year in that trafficking case you and your wife investigated. The case that took down Balducci’s son.”

  Armstrong suddenly pushed up from the table. The color had drained from his face and he looked like he’d been slammed in the chest. Reality swept through them all as they suddenly considered the familial connection.

  Vaughan gasped. Loudly. Pulling a closed fist to her chest, she batted away the tears that misted her eyes. Rising from her seat, she moved to her brother’s side and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

  Davis dropped his eyes to the floor, empathy flooding the room.

  Years previous, Armstrong had pulled the fatal shot that had taken the life of Balducci’s eldest son. Last year, his investigation had put Balducci’s other son behind bars, multiple life sentences guaranteeing he would never again see the light of day. Now, suddenly, they and Alexander’s children were all family. Cousins. And that realization was like a punch to the gut that none of them could have ever expected.

  Vaughan pulled Armstrong back to the table, the two sitting beside each other. She looped her arm through his and held on to him.

  Davis gave his sister the slightest smile, nodding his approval.

  Mingus took up the mantle. “So, whoever pulled the trigger on that body, also pulled the trigger on Davis.”

  Parker nodded. “Actually, there are three bodies on that gun. Gaia wasn’t killed with Davis’s gun. The shots from his gun were fired after the fact. And now we need to figure out how Balducci is tied into it all.”

  “Or a Balducci employee, maybe?” Mingus said, tossing Davis a look.

  “What are you thinking?” Armstrong questioned.

  “What do you know about Ginger? The redhead who works for him?”

  “Danni knows her better than I do. They became close when she was undercover. She was a big help when we needed her.”

  “She’s tied to this,” Davis muttered. “I’m not sure how, but something about her doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “I agree,” Mingus said. “She’s been on my list.”

  Armstrong nodded. “I’ll talk to Danni. See what she thinks and go from there.”

  “The FBI cleared you, Davis, but we’re still digging under rocks to see what we can find. I’ve already gone through ten hours of videotape from cameras in a twenty-mile radius of your office and I have another ten to go through,” Parker advised.

  Davis nodded. “She knew,” he said softly, thinking back to his last conversation with Gaia. “She knew that we were family.”

  “You don’t know that,” Simone said softly.

  “Yes. I do. She knew and she thought I knew. She was furious on the phone and she was ranting. She asked me how I could keep something like that from her when I knew how important family was to her. She questioned why I didn’t think I could trust her with something so important. Neema was there and I was trying to get Gaia off the phone. I just told her we needed to talk in person, and she insisted I come down to my office to face her. Thinking about it now, I’m sure it wasn’t just about Balducci being her father or the money. I think she may have known it all and I think her knowing is what got her killed.”

  “But why?” Simone questioned. “It doesn’t make sense. Who would benefit from that news staying secret and what would they get?”

  “Good question,” Davis stated. “Now we need to figure out the answer.”

  For another hour, the siblings sat together trying to make sense out of what felt like nonsense. All the pieces spun in a near perfect circle, but still didn’t fit together in a way that helped propel the case forward to give them the answers they so desperately wanted.

  “Thank you,” Davis said as they wound down for the night, ready to head to their respective homes. “I appreciate each of you.”

  “It’s what we do,” Parker said.

  “Amen to that,” Simone concluded.

  Davis echoed his sister, his voice barely a whisper. “Amen to that!”

  CHAPTER 13

  Sneaking out of her parents’ home came with challenges Neema hadn’t anticipated. First, her mother standing in the center of the kitchen prepping vegetables for a pot of soup she was planning for the next day’s meal. Spying Neema, the woman who rarely had much to say, suddenly had a lengthy list of questions she insisted be answered. What was Neema doing up? Why did she have her coat on? Where did she think she was going?

  Second, her father calling down to ask who had triggered the motion sensor that turned on all the outside lights shining into his bedroom. Then came his list of questions, which were essentially a repeat of what her mother had just asked. With each question, Neema had to admit that she was really bad about sneaking around in her parents’ home.

  With both interrogations Neema told a series of little white lies. She felt bad about doing so, but there was no way she could tell her parents she was headed to Davis’s house because he had called and had begged her to come. That would have been a whole other lecture, so it was easier for them to think she had been called into work to cover for a reporter who had phoned in sick.

  There had been something in Davis’s voice that tugged at her heartstrings. Something that whispered her name and his, spinning seductively as it pulled them toward each other. Something that spoke of need and want and hope and understanding. Something that made a little white lie well worth the risk of her parents’ wrath.

  Davis and Titus were standing in his front yard when she pulled her car into a parking space. The Rottweiler didn’t immediately recognize her and visibly bristled as she approached, his posture suddenly protective. Neema came to an abrupt halt as the dog suddenly rushed in her direction, his exuberance leading the way. As Davis called his name, Titus barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. Neema landed with a resounding thud as the dog licked her face and yipped in greeting, his docked tail wagging eagerly.

  Davis hurried to her side. “I am so sorry. Bad dog, Titus!”

  Titus licked her one last time and sat, a paw resting against her leg.

  “Are you okay?”

  Neema was wide-eyed and looked slightly frazzled. “I think I’ll live,” she said and then began to giggle. Her giggles were soon a full-fledged, gut-deep laugh.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Did yo
u hurt something?” Davis questioned, worry crossing his face.

  “I think I landed in dog poo,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “And I think it’s in my hair!”

  Davis sniffed, a squirrelly expression pulling at the muscles in his face. She saw him try to maintain a straight face and not laugh, but he failed miserably. Soon the two of them were laughing hysterically together.

  “So, I can offer you a hot shower while I throw your clothes into the washing machine,” Davis finally said.

  Neema chuckled as she slowly straightened. “If siccing your dog on a woman is how you get her out of her clothes, you might want to rethink your game plan.”

  Davis extended his hand to help her to her feet. “Not sure how I missed that pile,” he said.

  “I’m not sure how Titus and I didn’t miss that pile,” she said sarcastically.

  “You really do stink,” Davis said as he guided her by the arm to the house.

  “You think?”

  Minutes later, Neema was standing under a hot shower rinsing shampoo out of her hair.

  The damage had been as bad as she’d anticipated, remnants smeared down the back of her wool blazer and the collar of her white blouse. She’d insisted that Davis toss the blazer into the trash, the well-worn garment having outlived its usefulness. Sending it to the dry cleaner wasn’t worth what it would have cost her. Davis had insisted on buying her a new one, wanting to replace it to apologize for his dog’s transgression. Her blouse, jeans and undergarments were in his washing machine, Davis personally overseeing their washing.

  It took three shampoos before Neema began to feel clean again. A fourth sudsing for good measure and two douses of conditioner left her feeling considerably better. The stench of excrement no longer lingered in her nostrils, replaced by the fresh scent of lemon and lavender soap. Despite the hilarity of what had happened, it wasn’t how she’d imagined the night going.

  She stood beneath the hot spray for another ten minutes contemplating the situation and trying to decide what to do next. There had been no expectations on either’s part, just a desire to be near each other and allowing that to evolve organically. Neema fantasized about his touch, his hands dancing in places that were most private. Places that water now trickled over. A current of electricity vibrated through her feminine spirit and she found herself clenching the muscles below her waist to stall the rising sensations flooding her most private place.