The Iron Tiara

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The Iron Tiara Page 33

by Beth Flynn


  And so, here Anthony was, years later walking the bleak halls of what had been Grizz’s existence, wondering why he’d been asked to come. He was shown into a small office and wasn’t in the least bit surprised to see Grizz sitting behind a desk, his feet propped up on its edge. He was on the phone and hung up as soon as he caught sight of Anthony. A wide grin broke out on his face as he approached his old friend and gave him a tight hug and a hard pat on the back. Anthony’s gaze fell on a small knee-high table against one wall. It was flanked by two cushioned chairs with wooden armrests. An expensive chess set carved from ivory sat on it. The same chess set Anthony had delivered to Grizz years earlier. He then perused the rest of the office.

  Before he could ask, Grizz answered, “The perks of having some clout and loads of cash.”

  They made small talk, and Grizz couldn’t hide his amusement when Anthony shared that his oldest, Slade, wanted to go into law to lock up the bad guys.

  “I know he’s only thirteen and there’s still a lot of time for him to change his mind,” Anthony told him. "But if he sticks with it, I might consider moving away from Naples.” Grizz nodded his understanding, and after a few minutes of small talk in which both men avoided the subject of Kit, now called Ginny, Grizz blurted out, “I guess you’re wondering why I asked you to come.”

  Anthony nodded and said, “It has crossed my mind.”

  Grizz hefted one hip on the edge of his desk and said, “I hear congratulations are in order. I heard it’s a girl. I’m sure she’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Anthony said, with a grin. “She’s as beautiful as her mother.” He didn’t need to question how Grizz had heard. He’d said more than once that Grizz was the most connected person he knew and life behind bars wouldn’t have changed that. But he also knew Grizz hadn’t summoned him to offer congratulations.

  “I have a present for you. Something to help celebrate your daughter’s birth.”

  Anthony looked around the office, the confusion on his face hard to miss.

  “It’s a real gem of a gift.” Grizz stood and said, “Follow me.”

  Anthony walked down dreary hallways and noticed the respect that was given to Grizz, even by the guards. There were no catcalls or lewd comments from the other prisoners when they passed through the general population cell block.

  “Where are we headed?” Anthony asked.

  “Solitary confinement,” Grizz told him.

  After they were let into the solitary confinement block, Grizz stopped and turned around. Facing Anthony, he said, “There’s a prison hierarchy, and as you’ve probably already guessed, I’m at the top of the food chain.”

  Anthony gave a quick nod.

  “New inmates are always trying to get on my good side. Working directly under me has its benefits, so they’re always trying to impress me with their past exploits. I don’t just look for muscle, but I seek out brains as well. The man you’re going to meet is an old friend of yours, but I’m sure you haven’t met him because if you had, he wouldn’t be alive. He told me about a stunt he pulled years ago, trying to impress me with the fact that he did it right under the nose of Anthony Bear. It’s obvious he believed what he heard back then. That we were rivals and enemies.”

  Anthony’s eyes narrowed.

  Grizz motioned to the guard who unlocked the cell door.

  The guard gave Grizz a curt nod and said, “He has ten minutes.”

  Before swinging the door open, Grizz told Anthony, “I had him sent here so you’d have some alone time.”

  The meaning wasn’t lost on Anthony, and when Grizz pulled the door open, Anthony didn’t recognize the man who was leaning back on his cot. But the man recognized Anthony and scrambled to his feet.

  “Anthony Bear,” Grizz said as he waved his hand toward the open cell. “I’d like to introduce you to the man who used to call himself Ben Diamond.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2001

  “I wasn’t even scared, Daddy!”

  Six-year-old Daisy ran toward her father, and he effortlessly scooped her up in his arms and hugged her tight.

  It was a warm winter, even by South Florida standards, and Anthony couldn’t miss the flush of Daisy’s cheeks as she stared into his eyes.

  “Of course you weren’t scared, Daisy. You’re my big, brave girl.” He smiled at Christy who was walking toward him. “No tears?” he asked his wife.

  “She handled it like a champ,” Christy beamed. She was referring to their visit to the doctor’s office where Daisy was given an immunization shot.

  Christy glanced around Anthony’s workshop and said, “It’s been almost two years, and you still haven’t unpacked all your tools. It’s a mess in here.”

  “I’ve been busy establishing Native Touch on this coast, Christy. I haven’t had much time for organizing my shop.”

  “How about I get Daisy some lunch, and I’ll be back to help you. I think the two of us could knock it out in under a couple hours. If it’s not so cluttered, maybe it’ll be an incentive to go back to your blacksmithing. I know it’s something you love.”

  Christy knew there was more to Anthony’s reluctance to return to his hobby than just a cluttered workshop. He was still grieving the loss of his friend. Grizz had finally been put to death by lethal injection the previous summer. The irony wasn’t lost on either of them that the man who’d always been two steps ahead of the law and offered up information that’d kept Anthony and others out of trouble, hadn’t been able to save himself. They were both certain his death sentence would’ve been commuted to life without parole, but it hadn’t happened.

  “What about Daisy?” he asked Christy. “You can’t leave her in the house alone.”

  “Is Chrissy home?” Daisy interrupted from her perch on her father’s arm. She was referring to her sixteen-year-old brother, Christian, and was the only person in the world who could get away with calling him by that nickname.

  “He left before you got here, sweetheart,” Anthony told her as he gently set her back on her feet.

  She stomped her foot and whined, “But he promised he would play Beauty and the Beast with me today.”

  Anthony gave Christy an inquisitive look.

  “He has tea with her behind closed doors,” Christy tattled. She remembered the day she’d asked Christian to watch Daisy for a few hours while she ran errands. Before Christy left the house, Daisy had convinced her brother to watch her favorite video. When Christy returned to the house she quietly peeked in Daisy’s room to find them both sitting at her miniature table drinking juice from Daisy’s tea set.

  “Maybe Slade will play with you if he stops by,” Anthony offered.

  Daisy pouted and kicked the floor. “Chrissy is the best Beast.”

  Christy smiled at Anthony. “Christian has a lot more hair than Slade, blue eyes and of course, the scowl. Just like the Beast.”

  Anthony stifled a laugh.

  “How about I call Autumn? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to hang at the house for a couple of hours.” Christy nodded toward their home which sat up on a knoll a good distance away from Anthony’s workshop.

  Daisy liked Autumn, who did occasional babysitting for the family. She started jumping up and down and singing, “Autumn’s coming! Autumn’s coming!”

  “Well, first I have to see if she can, honey,” Christy said. She had a feeling Autumn would be available. She always jumped at any chance to bump into Christian. Autumn had recently moved to the neighborhood. She was also in a couple of Christian’s classes and had made quick work of showing up at their front door to introduce herself and offer babysitting services after discovering she lived near the Bears. Despite her obvious crush on Christian, Autumn was good with Daisy, and Daisy liked her.

  “Shouldn’t you go back to the hospital, instead of helping me in here?” Anthony inquired. “Doesn’t Ginny need you?” The concern in his voice was one of warmth and sincerity.

  Christy shook her he
ad. “We’re all going in shifts. I’m heading back tonight.”

  Ginny’s family had recently suffered a tragedy and if Christy was honest, she welcomed the distraction of cleaning out Anthony’s shop to keep her mind focused elsewhere for a bit.

  Anthony watched his girls as they walked hand in hand back to the house and he reflected on their new life in Fort Lauderdale.

  The Bears had moved to the east coast of Florida just over a year ago. It wasn’t just because Slade had been adamant about pursuing a career in law, but also because it was obvious that Christian had been leaning toward a life of crime. And just like Christy had told Anthony six years earlier, Christian’s hot-headed temper would get him in trouble. And it had.

  So, they’d moved to give both of their sons a new start in a new city. Slade, because they didn’t want the stigma of Anthony’s notoriety on the opposite coast to taint his future career, and Christian, because he’d been getting into serious trouble. The thought of one brother who might have to put another behind bars one day was too much for Christy to handle and so the decision had been made. Unfortunately, the change of scenery and new friends did nothing to squelch sixteen-year-old Christian’s tendency for acting out and he’d already spent some time in juvie.

  The buzzing of Anthony’s cell phone broke through his thoughts and after a quick conversation with the person on the other end, Anthony laid the phone down and contemplated how much to tell Christy, and immediately decided against it. It would only upset her. He would meet with the person who called just to prove it was a prank. The voice sounded familiar, but since it was impossible, he would meet at the designated place and make short work out of rearranging the guy’s face for perpetrating such a hoax in the midst of Ginny’s recent tragedy.

  Two hours later, Anthony and Christy, who’d been working in companionable silence, approached the last box. It was heavy. Christy popped open the top and started digging out some long-forgotten tools, handing them to Anthony who was finding a place for them.

  “What’s this?” Christy asked.

  Anthony turned and saw Christy, who’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding up something he’d made for her years ago and never given to her.

  “It’s a tiara,” he said, as he walked toward her.

  “I can see that.” She smirked. “It’s super heavy.”

  “Well, it is made of iron,” he answered sardonically.

  She carefully inspected it, turning it around in her hands. Without looking at him she asked, “Why did you make it and how come I’ve never seen it?”

  He crouched down next to her and with one hand resting on a knee, he told her, “I made it for you, Owani. A long time ago.”

  “It’s beautiful, Anthony. How come you never gave it to me?” she asked.

  “I was going to give it to you after you accepted my marriage proposal. Remember the first time I asked you? On the beach?” He paused. “When you said ‘no’?”

  Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a silent “oh.” “A tiara for a princess?” she asked, looking at him sideways and giving him a sweet smile.

  “No,” he answered firmly. “A tiara for a queen.” He reached for it and took it out of her hands. “I could’ve bought you a real one filled with diamonds, but it wouldn’t have conveyed what I was trying to express at that time.”

  “What was it you were trying to convey?” she asked, her tone sincere.

  “That even though you deserved a life of ease and luxury befitting a queen, life with me would be anything but. If you’d accepted my proposal that day on the beach, you would be accepting a life that carried a heavy weight with it. Hence, an iron tiara.”

  She stood then and pulled him up with her. Taking the tiara from his hand she laid it on his workbench, and turned around to face him.

  “Don’t you realize that life with you has been anything but heavy, Anthony? It hasn’t been a weight. As a matter of fact, it’s been the opposite. Your patience in the beginning and the love you’ve shown me every single day since then has saved me. And if you hadn’t sought out Valerie, I don’t know where I’d be today. You relieved me of a weight, a burden that was far heavier than anything I could’ve ever experienced being with you. Your love for me prompted you to seek out the only person that could provide answers. It was right after your talk with Kit. Do you remember?”

  “Of course, I remember, Owani,” he replied. “How could I forget?”

  Nineteen Years Earlier

  Anthony took Kit's advice, and upon returning to Naples immediately sought the one person who might possibly shed some light on the deep-rooted pain that Christy refused to share with him. He glanced around the tastefully furnished living room. French Provincial wouldn’t have been his first or even his tenth choice for furniture, but it seemed to fit the woman who sat in front of him.

  Valerie was an attractive older woman who possessed an air of formality without a hint of snobbery. She wore her silver hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her perfect makeup enhanced her eyes. They were light brown and exuded intelligence, warmth and sincerity. He immediately liked her.

  It was an unusually cool Thursday morning in South Florida, and instead of wearing the satiny or sparkly sweat suits of most retired women, she was wearing a smart pale pink fitted jacket with a matching skirt that came to just above her knees. A crisp white blouse enhanced the string of pearls she wore around her neck and the matching earrings that dangled from her earlobes. Her short brown legs were tanned and the high heels she wore showcased her slim calves. She crossed one leg over the other, wrapping both manicured hands around one knee and asked Anthony if he was certain that he didn’t want a refreshment. When he declined, she leaned back and asked, “What exactly would you like to know?”

  It took him almost thirty minutes to explain why he was there and during that time, she gave him her full attention. She didn’t interrupt once, and her expression didn’t change when he told her some of the more sordid parts of his story. However, he did detect a genuine hint of sadness whenever Christy’s name was mentioned.

  She uncrossed her legs and scooted to the edge of the couch. “Your suspicions are absolutely correct. Van was most definitely the father of Christy’s child. He was a despicable human being. I never liked him and was never able to grasp what Bobbi saw in him. And I never thought he was good enough for Vivian. Christy’s mother wasn’t always a pill-popping drunk, you know? She was a bright and vibrant, beautiful young woman with a good future. But Bobbi had to stick her nose in. She did that. Always manipulating a situation to make it appear as if it was in the person’s best interest when it was solely in hers. She didn’t know how to mind her own beeswax. Never did.”

  She missed the hint of a smile from Anthony. Now he knew where Christy had come up with that silly term.

  She sat back and told him, “That’s some story you told me, Mr. Bear.

  “Anthony,” he interrupted. “Call me Anthony.”

  “Do you want me to tell you the parts that are right and the parts that are wrong, Anthony?”

  “I want you to tell me everything,” he stated.

  “Bobbi Bowen wasn’t just a savvy and intelligent businesswoman. She was a highly manipulative and vicious one as well. Success didn’t make her grateful. It only fueled her penchant for the need to win. It was almost as if she became addicted to control.” Valerie stared past Anthony. “And that need to control ultimately ruined her only child’s life. And I don’t need to tell you how that trickled down on to both Richard and Christy.”

  “How did Bobbi ruin Vivian’s life?” Anthony asked.

  “By denying her the only man Vivian ever loved.” Returning her gaze to Anthony, Valerie shifted in her chair and adjusted her jacket. “Vivian used to come to the dealership every day after school. When she was in her senior year, she started a romance with a mechanic. His name was Patrick Slade, and he was a nice young man. He used to bring her daisies, and when Bobbi caught wind of it, she fired him and forbade
Vivian from seeing him.” She paused, and then added with a sneer, “She told Vivian that daisies were a poor man’s flower and she wouldn’t have it. It was all about appearances, and there was no way Bobbi Bowen’s daughter would end up with a lowly mechanic. Especially not after all her hard work to establish the successful dealerships. And, it just so happened that Bobbi was dealing with a little situation of her own at the time. She was having an affair with a young salesman, and people were starting to gossip. You know who I’m talking about, right?”

  “Van?” Anthony asked.

  Valerie nodded. “There was a big age difference. Bobbi preferred younger lovers, and we both know that Van did too. In other words, Bobbi was too old for his taste, but it was good for his career, so he was a more than willing participant.” She smoothed her hair. “It was then that she came up with a malicious and absurd plan. She convinced Van to marry her daughter, telling him that he only had to sleep with Vivian long enough to get her pregnant so Bobbi would have an heir. She convinced him they would still be lovers and she would continue to ensure his career advancement, but him marrying her daughter would kill two birds with one stone. It would stop the gossip about her and Van and ensure that Vivian didn’t marry her mechanic boyfriend.” Shaking her head, Valerie continued, “Van wooed Vivian for a short time, just long enough to make it look real, and Vivian, just coming off the heartbreak of losing her boyfriend, fell hard for him. Keep in mind, she had no idea about her mother’s dalliance, and if she’d heard the gossip, she probably convinced herself it wasn’t true.”

  Valerie paused, and Anthony could see her eyes starting to mist over. “Vivian confided in me that Van never touched her again after she told him she was pregnant.” She sniffled and reached for a tissue box on the side table. “And so, Richard was born, Van and Bobbi’s affair eventually fizzled out, and poor Vivian was stuck with that sorry excuse for a human being.”

 

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