by Steve Hadden
Shannon appeared in his doorway with Latham, and Joseph waved them in. He picked up the phone and instructed his secretary to tell Nick to join them. Shannon and Latham were the most trusted members of his inner circle. He valued Latham’s judgment and loved Shannon’s moxie.
Thirty seconds after he was summoned, Nick burst through the door and slammed it shut.
“What are we looking at?” he said, standing behind Shannon and Latham. Neither turned to face him. Joseph gave Nick his best evil eye to settle him, then nodded for Shannon to proceed.
“The meeting was short, Father, but this is what we learned. First, Rossi said he was looking into Tom Cole’s death. He was particularly interested in work done by Cole’s firm for Nick and Falzone Energy.”
Joseph noticed Nick’s face sour and redden and was happy Nick was behind Shannon and Latham, out of their fields of vision. “What else, Shannon?”
“He mentioned something about Franklin Tanner’s tactics and your involvement in Tanner’s selection, and he questioned why you were pressing for custody only five days from the trial.”
Joseph cornered his anger and harnessed the uneasiness building in his gut. Most of Rossi’s claims were nonsense—just probing questions intended to cause panic. However, Rossi had identified that thread, the one that could destroy all Joseph wanted and loved. He looked at his lifelong friend, Latham. “How do you assess what’s going on here?”
“It looks like a fishing expedition. I don’t think we should have met with him. Stonewall him, Joseph.” Latham’s face said much more. Latham recognized that Shannon knew nothing about the mess at Falzone Energy, and Joseph had warned Latham to keep it that way. While Joseph trusted his friend, he wasn’t sure Nick could hold his mud much longer.
“Thanks, Shannon. Brooks. I’ll think about this and let you know if I need anything else. Nick and I have a few things to discuss about the business.”
Shannon glanced back at Nick and then at Joseph. “Thanks, Father. I’ll be across the hall if you need me.” She closed her folio and left with Latham.
Nick gently closed the door, faced Joseph, and leaned back against it with his arms folded. Joseph hated the stare that followed. Nick’s arrogance was exceeded only by his business acumen, and therein lay Joseph’s dilemma.
But this look wasn’t about business—it was about Nick’s hide. In different ways, Joseph still loved all his children, Nick included. He wasn’t willing to trade Nick for his business—that just wasn’t an option. If Nick went down, it would crush Joseph, since he felt his mistakes long ago shaped Nick’s shortcomings, and the problem would be exposed. The business would go down with him anyway. Joseph’s only choice was to get Nick back under control.
“Have a seat. And keep your voice down.”
Holding his stare, Nick wound around a side chair and sat. “What are we gonna do?”
“Nothing.”
“He’s made the connection already.”
“So what, son? We do business all the time with Cole’s Seismic. We’re in the oil and gas business. Besides, you have all the data and models secured. Right?”
“Yeah. We have them. But that kid is a problem. He’s telling Rossi whatever he knows, and he was close to Cole.”
“Rossi’s fishing. He’s got nothing. In a week, the trial is over.”
“We need to get our hands on that kid.”
“You mean your nephew? My grandson?”
The crimson rush retuned to Nick’s face. “Call him whatever you want, Dad. He can put me away.”
“Calm down. And I told you to keep your voice down. Look, we don’t know if Jack knows anything, and Brooks assured me we’ll have visitation by the weekend. I’ll talk to the boy. He won’t be a problem.”
“What about Rossi? I hear he’s a bulldog. He won’t let this go.”
This was a more difficult question. Any meddling by Joseph would link him to the problem—the problem that would end his marriage to Erin if she found out. While he loved his son, he loved Erin, too. If push came to shove, he’d choose her. It would kill him to do it, even after what Nick had done. Still, he needed deniability. He needed to put the ball in Nick’s court.
“Have any ideas?”
Nick looked like a dog eyeing a piece of steak. “You bet I do. I can—”
Joseph thrust his palm into Nick’s face. “I don’t want to hear it. Just handle him.”
Nick smiled, his confidence fortified by having control. Over the years, Joseph had seen that look many times. And every time his son delivered. “I’ll get it—done.”
A knock interrupted them.
“Yes?” Joseph said, looking to the door.
The door cracked open and Erin peeked in.
“Come in, dear. Nick and I were done.”
Nick slammed his hands onto the arms of his chair and stood. “Guess we are.”
Joseph knew that the contempt in Nick’s voice wasn’t targeted at him. Erin and Nick were like matches and gasoline, and Joseph was regularly blasted by each of them about the other. He’d confronted Nick and made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate his disrespect for Erin. That stopped the frontal attacks, but the war simmered beneath the thin blanket of decorum.
Nick stepped around Erin as she entered. “Afternoon, Erin.”
“Hi, Nick,” she said, keeping her eyes on Joseph. “Honey, I want to talk about Jack.”
Nick froze in the doorway.
“What about him, dear?” Joseph said.
“I think we should do what’s best for our grandson. And this battle with his aunt can’t be good. She’s a good person and a good mother. I’m sure we could work something out after the trial.”
Nick reentered the office. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Erin didn’t turn to face Nick. She held her gaze on Joseph. “It’s none of your business.” Her eyes looked for Joseph’s support.
The alarms were sounding in his gut. He was squarely in the middle. “Let me speak with Erin about this, Nick.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. The kid belongs with us. You know that as well as I do.”
Joseph launched from his chair. “That’s enough, son.”
Shannon rushed in and stood between her mother and Nick. “What’s going on here? I can hear you shouting across the hall. Now leave her alone, Nick.”
She cut her eyes at Joseph.
He’d had enough. “Damn it. Nick, get out of here.”
Nick tensed, apparently weighing whether to challenge Joseph. He cursed under his breath and left.
“Joseph, he’s too much for me right now,” Erin said. “He’s getting worse.”
Joseph could see a glaze of tears in her eyes. Patrick’s death just eight months ago had nearly destroyed her, and none of them had recovered from it. “I’ll talk to him.” She didn’t deserve that from anyone.
“And I think we should drop this custody thing until the trial is over.”
“We’re done, sweetheart. The judge rules tomorrow.”
“He’s our grandson. Just keep that in mind,” she said, taking Shannon’s arm.
“I’ll see you both at home,” he said as they left his office arm and arm.
Erin stopped. “And I’ll be there, dear.”
He got the message. That was her home. Their home. And she wanted it to be happy and safe. Nick didn’t fit into that formula in the flesh or in spirit. They’d had that discussion before.
Erin turned back and left with Shannon. A storm surge of regret and sadness engulfed Joseph for a few seconds. He shoved it into a black hole and refocused. He had much bigger problems. This little family moment would be a walk in the park compared with what might be coming. With calculated clarity, Joseph now knew the risks. He’d face them head-on with an overwhelming force and end this threat—no matter what it cost.
CHAPTER 21
Shannon Falzone had felt a seismic shift in her family ever since her brother Patrick tragically died eight months ago. At the e
picenter was her half brother, and the vibrations he created were shaking the people she loved for a reason she had yet to uncover.
As her mother cried in her arms behind Shannon’s closed office door, Shannon chided herself for letting it happen. After all, she was a strong woman, just like her mother.
But she got another trait from her father: the ability to detach and assess a situation without emotional entanglements. She fortified her talents with a degree in communications from Pitt and an MBA from Wharton at Penn. She’d graduated early from both programs, and at twenty-six, she had five years of experience battling the tide of doubt and prejudice in the business against a woman blessed with her mother’s good looks.
As always, her mom’s breakdown was short—just a release of the poison injected by Nick. She’d never let anyone get to her, but since Patrick’s death she’d been a bucketful of emotions. Shannon didn’t judge her. She’d lost her only son. The unspoken rule was to never bring it up unless her mother did.
After fishing a Kleenex from her purse, her mother pulled back, sat in a side chair, and dabbed her eyes. A deep sigh signaled she was back.
Shannon couldn’t maintain the façade of unity requested by her mom. “He’s just an asshole, Mom.” She rubbed her mother’s back.
“You know I don’t like that language against family members,” her mom said, standing and slipping the tissue into the wastebasket and returning to the chair.
“I don’t understand why you think you have to respect him.”
“It’s not respect for him.” Her mom’s look finished the sentence. It’s for your father.
Shannon had heard that party line all her life. Blended or not, this is a family. And we support each other no matter what. It was a mantra spoken by her dad at every family meeting from the time she could talk. Usually, it was in response to some petty crime Nick had committed against Shannon or Patrick. As she got older, she realized Nick’s actions were driven by a deep scar, probably from being sold off by his mother in his parents’ divorce. But it went deeper. Shannon was sure Nick envied her and Patrick and the unbreakable bond they shared with each other and their mother. That bond that was driven by bloodlines and birth. A bond he never formed. And now there was something much more than that driving his actions.
“I hear you, Mom, but something’s going on. Why do you think Nick is so adamant about getting visitation with Jack? He never spent any time with him or showed any interest in him.”
“He may just be supporting your father. Your father wants time with his grandson, especially not knowing what will happen with the trial.”
Shannon decided to let it lie. Her mother always supported her father, and while Shannon didn’t buy it at all, it would be a losing argument that would only hurt her mother.
“Do you have everything you need for the benefit at the Duquesne Club?”
Her mother pulled out of her sadness and perked up at the prospect of helping the foundation. “I do. You’ve done a wonderful job, and I have no idea how you got the HUD secretary to speak before the auction. That will pull in all the old money.”
“It was easy, Mom. I just dropped your name.”
Her mother smiled, but it was the truth. One mention of the woman who had single-handedly throttled Pittsburgh’s elite to clean up the Northside, feed every hungry child in the city, and bring affordable housing to struggling families crushed by low wages and soaring costs commanded the attention of every politician looking for funding and an endorsement.
“I’ll have the final draft of your remarks proofed and fact-checked this afternoon,” Shannon said, guiding her mother to the door. They said their good-byes, punctuated with a long hug and an air kiss to the cheek. She watched her mother walk down the long hallway toward the executive elevator. Then she spotted Nick, loitering in his doorway after her mother passed.
After the elevator doors closed, she marched to his office, her heels announcing her mood with every step. Nick heard her approach and retreated inside his office. She stepped in and deliberately eased the door shut. Nick’s eyes simmered like a brewing volcano. But she’d had enough.
“You owe my mother an apology. She may be your stepmother, but you owe her the respect she’s earned.”
Nick leaned back and locked his hands behind his head. “Why do you think she’s earned my respect, sister?”
The sister slight. Shannon hated that she shared her father’s DNA with this slug. “Because she put up with your bullshit.”
“Is that so? The way I see it is that she saw the gravy train and stuck her head in the trough. As a result, you and Patrick popped out.”
Shannon imagined charging the desk and jamming the gold letter opener into his eye. But she calmed herself with a deep breath and took aim. “My brother was ten times the man you’ll ever be. You bring him up again and I’ll start digging until you’re buried. I know about your little club you had going with Tanner. I don’t know what you were doing, but I sure as hell can find out.”
That revelation launched Nick to attention. She’d seen the same expression on his face for years, every time he got caught. It had hit home more than she’d expected. Until now, she’d thought his time with Tanner was about some arrangement to serve Nick’s sadistic view of entertainment. But there was something more—something he wanted to conceal. He caught himself and struck a confident posture.
“There’s nothing there. You can dig, but while you’re digging, I’ll be guiding Dad through this mess and making more money in the process. I assure you, I’ll make you look petty and vindictive, and you know how that will play with him.”
She knew he was right. While he was an ass, he was cunning, razor-sharp, and capable of delivering on his promise. She’d built a strong reputation, but with the table slanted against her, any sliver of doubt or family squabbling could sink her ambitions.
“Tell me this, Nick, why are you so interested in getting your hands on Jack?”
His slippery grin surely prefaced a lie. “He’s my sister’s son and my nephew.”
“You hate Brenda and probably facilitated her coke-fueled spiral.”
“He’s also our father’s grandson. I’m sure dear old Dad would enjoy hearing that you don’t want us to do all we can to get him.”
“Your threats don’t scare me. You’re up to something, and you’ll leave Mom alone if you know what’s good for you.”
Nick chuckled as Shannon turned and headed back to her office. Deep in her heart, she knew this wasn’t the last of it. And while she thought she could find Nick’s secret, she hoped no one would find hers.
CHAPTER 22
Ike knew he was running out of time. At three p.m. on Wednesday, he entered the Prices’ law office and grabbed a cup of coffee on the way to the conference room. He passed through the door, then stopped.
It looked like a paper recycling plant gone wrong. Stacks of files and papers covered the table in an unrecognizable pattern. Both Ed and Jenna were hunched over their laptops attempting to read through their tired, bloodshot eyes. Jenna lifted her head, spotted Ike, and stretched against her chair back, blowing out as much tension as she could with one long sigh.
“Is it three already?” she said.
Ike looped around the conference table and took the seat facing Jenna, pushed a stack of papers away, and tossed his file in front of him. “You ready to do this?”
“Sure. Dad and I need a break anyway.”
Ed raised his head and nodded at Ike. “Hi, Ike.”
“Hi, Ed. How’s business?”
“Less and less since we’ve taken this case.” Ike was sorry he’d asked. Ed looked like shit and about ten years older than he did yesterday. Ike made a mental note to jump off a bridge if he ever thought of going to law school.
He took a sip and winced as the coffee seared his upper lip. “Any progress?”
Jenna and Ed shared an expression of consternation. Which one of us gets to tell Rossi?
Jenna apparently drew the
short straw.
“We’re running through the case law on the mental incapacity defense.”
Ike wanted to punch someone. “You’ll ruin Jack with that bullshit.”
Jenna stiffened and locked her eyes on Ike. “We’ll save his life, Ike. It’s all we’ve got unless you somehow come up with evidence that Tanner killed Jack’s father. You’ll have to do something in four days that two detectives and two pretty damn good lawyers couldn’t do in six months.”
“Whoa there. Someone needs a break,” Ike said.
Jenna deflated into her chair. “I’m sorry, Ike. I had two hours of sleep. And by sleep, I mean closing my eyes and going through every angle in this case.” She offered a weak smile. “Look, we do have to have this alternate defense. What do you have?”
“I talked to Shannon Falzone today.”
“You talked to a Falzone?” Jenna glanced at her father and both looked suddenly energized.
“Yes, I did. At their office.”
“Shannon Falzone met with you?”
“I wouldn’t call it a meeting. It was more like an exchange.”
Jenna’s tall frame stretched halfway across the table. “Well, what did she say?”
“She basically scolded me. Told me that no Falzone would talk to me. And then I told her a bit of what I know to pressure them into a mistake.”
“But she’s a Falzone?” Ed said.
“Bingo. Something big is going on there. Something they want to hide. I think it has something to do with the seismic interpretation Tom did for Falzone before he died.”