But George wasn’t so sure. If it had just been the message on the tarp, he might have agreed. But murdering two people who once sat on Ryan’s board cast this situation into a darkness that made him uncomfortable.
When he finished his jog, he called his daughter. Leana picked up on the third ring.
“This is Leana.”
“How are you this morning?”
“Have you seen the papers?”
“Yes.”
“Television?”
“Yes.”
“The Internet?”
“Not yet.”
“It’s all the same and I’d be lying to you if I said I wasn’t overwhelmed.”
“You have every reason to be. I assume you know that Holt and Stout were once on Ryan’s board?”
“I do know that. I also know that in the bathroom where Holt had her face shot off, a note was found that had their names on it as well as eight others. According to Fondaras, it’s unlikely that the other eight are connected to Ryan. A movie star was on the list. So was an author. They say it might have been left there on purpose to throw off the police, because it was a random list of people.”
“Louis Ryan was a random kind of guy.”
“He’s also been dead for three years.”
“In theory.”
“What does that mean?”
“Probably nothing. Don’t worry about it. The police will look into those eight remaining names, they’ll interview the other people today and if there are connections, they’ll make them. Are you going to be able to find out? Because if you can’t, I can.”
“I can find out.”
“Let me know when you do.” He checked his watch. “Look,” he said. “What are you doing at noon today? I know you’re busy, but I was hoping to see you last night and would like to see you today. I really need to discuss something with you soon, because what I have to tell you is only fair to you. We can have lunch. Something light.”
“What’s only fair about it?”
“It’s best that we talk in person. Does noon work?”
“I can do that.”
“I’ll send a car for you so you can bypass the media and just step into the backseat.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“See you at noon.”
* * *
Just before noon, Leana stepped out of her building, smiled and waved at the media awaiting her exit, and ignored their questions and the many photographs they took of her as she slipped into her father’s waiting car. She thought she’d be alone. She was surprised to find that she wasn’t. Another person was in the car, sitting opposite her.
It was Pepper Redman and she was dressed in a way that Leana wasn’t dressed. It was, after all, a Sunday, and she wanted to look casual when she left her building because she knew the press would be there and she wanted to be herself.
Pepper was wearing a white Chanel suit that complemented her shoulder-length red hair and sported a glowing face that looked as if it held the secrets to the world.
“Penelope,” Leana said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Your father didn’t tell you?”
“He didn’t say a word about you.”
“That’s odd, especially considering how closely we’ve been working together over the past several months. Still, it’s good to see you again, Leana. It’s been a long time.”
“I hardly recognized you.”
“I re-imagined myself.”
“You what?”
“I saw myself the way I always wanted to see myself, and I made it happen.”
“Naturally?”
“Of course, naturally. You think I went under the knife at my age?”
“In this town, people go under the knife when they turn nine.”
“Not me.”
“Good for you. You look great.”
“I lost weight, I worked out, I graduated with honors from Wharton, and I’m ready for my next step. I also changed my name to the one my friends gave me at Wharton. I go by Pepper now. Pepper Redman. Isn’t that fab?”
“It’s certainly spicy. When Dad told me, I thought he said Pippa.”
“Pippa?”
“As in Pippa Middleton.”
“You thought I was Pippa Middleton?”
“We had a bad connection. But Pepper works, if that’s what you want to call yourself. It does complement your hair.”
“I haven’t heard that before. I’m sorry about Celina.”
“We all are, Pepper. Thank you. I didn’t see you at the funeral.”
She waved her hand. “Crazy schedule. I’m also sorry about your mother. The family was shocked when we heard the news. I had no idea that she was capable of such a thing.” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a filter. Wharton beats it out of you. They want harsh, harsh, harsh. Kill, kill, kill. Crush, crush, crush. Destroy, destroy, destroy. It’s hard for me to turn it off. I’m certain she’ll get out for good behavior.”
“She’s in for life with no parole, but I’ll let her know that you’re thinking about her in my next letter. Or you could write to her yourself.”
“It would be wonderful if you’d mention me. Just tell her that Pepper is thinking about her and also taking care of Uncle George. She has nothing to worry about.”
“She’s in prison, Pepper. She has plenty to worry about.”
“Oh,” she said. “You mean the dykes? I hear they’re everywhere in there and your mother is so beautiful. An older version of Celina. I’m sure at least one of them has targeted her, if not more. Don’t they call them Lady Bosses?”
“I don’t know what they call them.”
“I think it’s Lady Bosses.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Jackie Collins.”
“You read Jackie Collins?”
“I learn from Jackie Collins.”
“I’d rather not think about that or what my mother is going through.”
“But haven’t you? I don’t mean to press, but it must be awful. Strange women coming on to you. Murderers wanting a piece of you. Being looked at in the showers and treated like a piece of meat. Your mother is one of the most elegant women I know—or remember—regardless of the fact that she herself is a murderer, which none of us knew until she did the right thing and broke her silence. She must feel powerless in there.”
“Pepper, that’s enough. I don’t want to talk about my mother.”
“Sorry. It’s the filter thing. I ramble sometimes.”
“Apparently.”
She let a beat of silence pass and Leana sensed her searching for a new subject. “I don’t know about you, but I’m so hungry, I could eat this city right now and think nothing of it.”
“That’s a curious way to put it.”
“Probably, but I’m famished. I hope Uncle George has a spread for us. Maybe some biscuits and gravy to appeal to my Southern roots.”
“Where are you from again?”
“Atlanta.”
“I thought you were from Arkansas.”
“No, no. Atlanta. Always Atlanta. Never Arkansas.” She looked at Leana and her eyes hardened as she smacked her lips. “God, I’m hungry. I had the workout from heaven this morning and I have to tell you, Leana, I’m just dying to sop something up.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They cut through traffic and Leana stole fleeting glances at her cousin. She still couldn’t believe the radical transformation that had taken place. Pepper’s long legs were folded at the knee and she was sitting ramrod straight, as if years ago someone had shoved a rod up her ass and sealed it to her spine. Her skin was weirdly perfect, fresh and creamy, as if the sun hadn’t touched it. Framed by her red hair, her green eyes were especially intense.
“I’ve seen you everywhere today,” Pepper said. “On television, in the papers and don’t even get me started about the Web. You’re everywhere online, even on some of the really popular gossip sites, which I call an achievement. What does it feel lik
e to be famous?”
Is she serious? “I’m not famous, Pepper. My sister was. My father is. I’m not.”
“Oh, come on. False modesty has no place here. Especially here. You’re with a Wharton grad. Your fame must be the realization of a dream. I know it’s not all good, like what they’re saying about your outfit last night. Horrible things, but I disagree with them. I never would have put you on all those Worst Dressed lists. And that photo on Page Six was ridiculous. They used that unflattering angle of you on purpose to make your ass look big. I thought you looked smashing. But even with the negative press weighing you down, fame has to have its perks. I’m envious.”
“I see that.”
“But I’ll get there,” Pepper said. “It just takes time and hard work. And I’m all about hard work. It’s what they teach you at Wharton.”
“I think you’ve mentioned Wharton half-a-dozen times now.”
“Have I? Probably. You’re sick of hearing it? Probably. Did you go to a business school? No? That must have killed Uncle George. As often as I mention it, it’s because I can’t help myself when it comes to Wharton. It transformed me. What I learned there is that if you want to make it, you need to be prepared to work harder than anyone else and then work twice as hard again. You also need to put yourself out there. Way out there. That’s what Uncle George has been preparing me for.”
“Why’s that?”
“He has something in store for me.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t say.”
“Is that what this lunch is about?”
“Partly. I guess so. Probably. Likely. Yes, it is. All I know is that I’m excited and I want to get the word out there now.”
“About what?”
Pepper pointed a finger at Leana. “You’re tricky. You always have been, ever since we were kids and you blew sand into my eyes while promising it was fairy dust. I’ve never forgotten that. Hurt like the devil. Thought I’d been struck blind.”
“That happened in Arkansas, I believe.”
“No, no. Atlanta. Always Atlanta. Never Arkansas. Anyway, I’ve promised to stay quiet about today’s luncheon and I will.”
“How old are you now, Pepper?”
“Twenty-six. I forget how old you are.”
“Twenty-nine.”
“I thought you were older.”
“I’m not older.”
“Are you sure? Because you look older. Maybe it’s just the night you had last night, but I could have sworn you were in your thirties. Like, thirty-five.”
“That would have made my sister thirty-seven when she died. She was twenty-eight.”
“Was she? I’m sorry. With so much going on that I can’t talk about, all these secrets that are about to go public, sometimes I get confused.”
Leana looked ahead of them and saw the Redman International Building come into view. Just like last night, the sight of it made her stomach tighten. In three years, she’d seen her father once, about a year after she and Mario returned from Europe. It was at a restaurant. George didn’t see her, but she saw him. Mario wanted her to go over and say hello to him, but she was too uncomfortable doing so in such a public setting and especially since he hadn’t acknowledged what happened to her at the Four Seasons. She’d nearly been gunned down, but he ignored it. Not a word from him about it, not a phone call, even though it was major news. When she saw him at the restaurant, she wasn’t ready to speak to him. But now? Now was different. She knew at some point they needed to break the ice, so this was it.
“Are you all right?” Pepper asked.
The car started to slow and Leana gathered her Birkin. “I’m fine.”
“Because for a minute there, by the look on your face, it appeared as if someone was going to throw you to the wolves.”
“That happened last night,” Leana said. “And someday, Pepper, when you lay claim to your own fame and your dreams of national attention come true for you, you’ll know how that feels. It won’t escape you because you’ve created this new identity of yours. All you’ll be to the media and to the world is just more fresh meat for the eating. That’s what people want—a fresh piece of meat. I hope you’re ready when that happens.”
“Oh, I had fresh meat this morning,” Pepper said. “And it burned.”
* * *
They entered the lobby through separate doors, passed the waterfall at their left and started to move beyond the security desk when the guard seated there stopped Leana.
“ID, please.”
Although Leana didn’t recognize him, she couldn’t believe he was serious. She heard an elevator door whisk open and looked over to watch Pepper step inside. When the door slid shut, she smiled coolly at Leana and gave her a little wave.
“I’m George Redman’s daughter,” she said. “Leana Redman.” He had the New York Post in front of him. She was on the cover. “Why don’t you close the sports section and have a look at the cover?”
He did so and then looked at her. “Yup, that’s you. But I still need to see your ID.”
She dug into the Birkin and held it out for him. He passed it through a fluorescent light and then studied her photograph. “I didn’t know Mr. Redman had another daughter.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“He only talks about Celina, the one who died.”
“That’s good to know.”
“You know which elevator is his?”
“I can manage.”
She took the ID from him and started to walk away.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Redman. I meant no offense.”
“It’s fine. You’re not the first.”
“It’s just that I was told to check all ID’s because of what happened a few years ago.”
She stopped and turned to him. “So, why did you let Pepper go by?”
“Pepper? She’s like a daughter to Mr. Redman. Pepper’s here everyday and has been for months. There’s no need to check Pepper’s ID. We all know Pepper. Pepper buys us lunch.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When the elevator doors slid open, the first thing Leana heard was Pepper’s laughter wafting down the hallway.
Leana tried to tune it out, but it was impossible because it was so fake and grating. She stood there for a moment, looked at herself in the enormous mirror opposite her and felt ridiculous. She was wearing black Gucci running pants, a fitted white T-shirt, and her hair was pulled away from her face in a ponytail. Add to that the twenty-thousand-dollar orange Birkin bag slung over her shoulder, and she felt she looked like something out of a high-end Halloween catalog.
“Is that you, Leana?”
Leana was incredulous. It was Pepper. Did the bitch have her on radar? “That’s right, Pepper,” she said lightly. She took a left and walked down the hallway. “It’s me.”
She entered the living space and looked at her father, who was standing beside Pepper. His hair was grayer than she remembered but his skin was just as smooth and tan. He was dressed casually in khaki pants and a blue button-down shirt, but since when did her father wear that on Sundays? Usually, he jogged through the Park on Sunday mornings and then changed into jeans and a polo after showering.
“Sorry to be late,” she said. “Nobody at the front desk knew who I was or that you have another daughter. I had to show identification to prove it.”
“You had to do what?” George asked.
“Oh, my,” Pepper said. She put her hand over her mouth.
“Show my ID. Prove that you have another daughter.”
He had no response for that. Instead, he came over and gave her an awkward hug. “You look good,” he said. “Back to normal?”
What was he referring to? What happened at the Four Seasons or being shot by Louis Ryan at The Hotel Fifth? Probably the latter, so she went with it. “The scar makes me look a little ghetto when I’m wearing a bikini, but I’m alive. How about you? Everything okay?” She was referring to him being shot by Ryan.
“I’m fine. I
would have come to visit you, but I couldn’t. I think I was down longer than you.”
She hadn’t visited him while he was in hospital. As soon as the doctor gave her his approval, she left the country with Mario. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “For safety’s sake, Mario and I left for Europe as the soon as the doctor gave me the green light. Sorry I didn’t stop by before leaving, but I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.”
“Smart move.”
She glanced over at Pepper. “I didn’t realize this was a dressy affair.”
“It isn’t,” George said. “That’s just Pepper.”
“Just Pepper?” Pepper said. “It’s Pepper in Chanel. There’s a difference, Uncle George.”
Leana leveled her with a glance. “If you had wings, you’d look like an angel. Seriously, Pepper. Brava.” She turned to her father. “In the car, Pepper told me that she hoped you’d have some gravy and biscuits on the menu. She said she wanted to sop something up. Since she’s probably too polite to ask, I thought I’d pass that along. She said she’s hungry enough to eat the city. Although I’m still unsure what that means.”
“I’ll ask the cook if he can whip something up, Pepper.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble. Really, I was just joking.”
“She wasn’t,” Leana said. “Now, she’s just being polite. She said she wanted to eat something that would appeal to her Southern roots, so I’m thinking she wants to be reminded of her upbringing in Arkansas.”
“Atlanta. Always Atlanta.”
“Right. I think Pepper wants her gravy chicken fried. Maybe some ham hocks. Grits. Fried catfish. Squirrel. That sort of thing.”
“Squirrel?” Pepper said.
“Now, it’s me who’s just joking,” Leana said. “But I hear they love it in Arkansas.”
“Seriously, it’s Atlanta.”
“No, it isn’t. I’m older than you. Thirty-five, right? I remember our trips to Arkansas, Pepper. I remember visiting you there and the conversations that followed when we left.”
Park Avenue (Book Six in the Fifth Avenue Series) Page 9