The Gilded Cuff

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The Gilded Cuff Page 12

by Smith, Lauren


  —New York Times, June 10, 1990

  Sophie leaned back against the shower wall for support. Her body was a stranger to her, betraying her with an orgasm so powerful she’d been unable to breathe, to speak. Her mind had blacked out. She’d been aroused by Emery’s punishment, been on fire when he’d caressed her clit and massaged her mound.

  It had turned her into some sort of wild animal, needing release with a maddening intensity. She’d shamelessly used him to get what she’d wanted, and had hoped he’d use her in return, but he’d escorted her to the bathroom and abandoned her when all she’d wanted was for him to stay and hold her.

  Am I crazy?

  To want a man who’d spanked her to hold her and comfort her after a mind-blowing orgasm brought on by being punished?

  Yeah, definitely crazy.

  Still, if he had stayed, she would have panicked. She needed her space, to reclaim herself again in whatever way she could. She was on the edge of falling off, losing herself to him and his world.

  Despite her relief at being alone, the emptiness of the bathroom left her feeling oddly hollow. How had Emery’s presence become more crucial to her than her privacy?

  After forcing herself through the motions of washing, she got out and threw on some workout clothes. She wasn’t a fan of competitive sports, couldn’t even name more than five professional football teams, but she loved to exercise. Tennis would be a welcome distraction. And with Cody, she might get some answers to her burning questions.

  He was waiting in the hall outside Emery’s bedroom. He wore a gray t-shirt and black basketball shorts and running shoes. She bit her lip to hide a smile.

  “What?” he asked curtly.

  “I thought you’d be wearing a polo shirt and short tennis shorts. You look like you’re ready to go play a pick-up game of basketball.”

  “Yeah…I’m not like the Bossman. He’s old school, all class and East Coast money. I’m from inner city Chicago.”

  Cody lifted his chin. The shuttered, defensive expression on his face made her heart ache. He was as out of place as she was in this world of luxury.

  She offered him a smile. “I’m from Manhattan, Kansas. I’m not exactly at home here either.”

  Cody’s face softened. He handed her one of the two tennis rackets. “Let’s do this so I can get back to work.”

  Sophie caught him by the arm, halting him. “Hey, you want to ditch tennis? I’d rather talk.”

  The fleeting moment of trust she’d established with him faded. His spine stiffened and he slid back a step.

  “If it’s about Emery, we don’t talk about him.”

  He started walking. She rushed to catch up, trying to match his long strides.

  She fisted a hand in his t-shirt sleeve to get him to look at her. “No. You will talk to me because last night he went into some sort of mental episode and locked me out.”

  Cody froze. His fingers clenched the tennis racket.

  “Emery flashed back the second he heard the clock chime and talked to me as though I were Fenn.”

  “The chime? Of the clock in the hall? Shit!”

  He tossed the racket and started running. Sophie dropped her own racket and ran after him.

  Cody ran down the steps two at a time and skidded to a stop in front of the clock. He opened the wood panel at the base and ripped out several little pieces of metal, shoving them into his pockets. He studied the clock and the swinging pendulum with a deep scowl.

  He flicked his eyes to hers. “Hans removed the parts from this clock years ago. It should never have been able to chime. I’m tossing these parts in the trash.”

  “So who put the parts back in?” Sophie reached out to touch the rich smooth wood of the clock’s base.

  “I don’t know, but I have to find out. If you ever hear that clock or any other clock chime in this house, you get me or Hans immediately.”

  Sophie gritted her teeth. “Only if you tell me why.”

  Silence passed, and Cody breathed hard as he considered her. “Fine, but not here. Let’s go to my office.”

  She followed him down another series of halls, ever more aware of the massive size of Emery’s home. Cody paused in front of a gilded door with a keypad entry. He quickly punched in a code and the locks clicked. He gripped the brass knob and opened the door for her to enter.

  Cody’s office was a cornucopia of gadgets and computer gear. She’d definitely stumbled into Batman’s cave.

  “Welcome to the Larson Command Center.” He pulled back a cushy chair and let her sit down, then shut the door and picked up a little black box. He flicked a switch and the blinking red light on the side changed to a steady green glow.

  “What’s that?” Sophie pointed to the box as he sat down in the chair next to her.

  “Bug jammer.”

  “Paranoid much?” she teased, but Cody only stared at her, no trace of humor in his pale blue eyes.

  “Trust me. Any paranoia I’ve got is justified.”

  “Okay, so what’s with the clock chimes then?”

  Cody slid his wireless keyboard onto his lap. Plinking away at the keys, he set up one of his monitors to reveal a large conference room. Nine men sat around the table. Emery was at the head, talking, but Sophie couldn’t hear any voices so she figured Cody must have muted it somehow.

  She leaned forward, squinting at the men on the screen. “Cody, did you mute them?”

  He ignored her question and instead picked up his wireless keyboard and started tapping away. The computer monitor nearest her started rapidly flashing through various camera feeds. Room after room came up empty. Only when his scan was finished did Cody seem to relax. His shoulders rolled back and the tension tightening his features eased.

  “The sound of clock chimes set him off. Hans and I think that wherever the kidnappers held him must have had an old clock. He goes back to the night he escaped. Hans and I have witnessed enough of the flashbacks to have put a few pieces of the puzzle together. Emery and Fenn were held somewhere close by for a couple of months. Then something happened and there was a chance to escape. We think Fenn distracted the kidnappers so Emery could get out. Fenn must have died that night. They must have killed him. Whatever happened, Emery won’t talk about it.”

  Sophie hesitated. “He’s going to tell me everything.”

  Cody’s brows rose. “Does he know that?”

  “Yes. It’s why I’m here. We have a deal.” Embarrassment heated her cheeks, but she had to explain the situation to him or he wouldn’t help her.

  Cody’s face darkened. “So you bang the Bossman, and he shares his tragic details over pillow talk? To think, I was hoping you’d be different.”

  Fury spiked in her. “It isn’t like that! You’ve checked me out. Why do you think I’m here? To hurt him? I have to talk to him. It’s not just about the story. I have other reasons.”

  With a long sigh Cody sank back into his chair, his attention once more on the monitors. “It’s about the girl abducted from the park?”

  Her eyes burned with tears and she focused on Emery’s face on the screen.

  “Rachel.”

  There weren’t words for anything else.

  Cody’s voice was rough when he pointed to Emery on the screen. “That man owns my soul. He rescued me and I can’t even begin to repay him. I’d die for him. Hans, too. Do you understand that?”

  Goose bumps rose on Sophie’s arms. There was an odd sinking in her chest and she shifted restlessly. “I get it. Loyalty like that runs deeper than friendships, deeper than blood. It’s soul deep.”

  Cody released a heavy breath. “Yeah. So you get me when I say if I think even for a second that you’re a threat to him, I’ll shut you out.”

  Sophie understood that sort of loyalty even though she’d never had it, not after losing Rachel. But she knew full well what it was like to believe in protecting someone else with every fiber of her being. The fact that she sensed Emery was still in danger made her want to protect him
like that.

  “If I have it my way, I’ll be one of his greatest allies. Cody, I know you saw my life, pulled out all my dark secrets, but you seemed to have missed the big picture.” Sophie looked him straight in the eye. “I’m an investigative journalist. The police let me help. I’ve solved twenty-five-year-old cold cases. I’ve been looking into Emery’s case.”

  The chair creaked as Cody leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. Hope burst into his eyes. “You think you can solve the kidnapping?”

  Sophie nodded. She knew, just knew in her gut that if she could get Emery to talk, the details he’d give her would be the key to solving it.

  “There are things that don’t fit. I think it was an inside job. The ransom may not have even been the real goal. What he went through doesn’t match up with ransom abductions, but rather resembles faked kidnappings to hide murders. I need Emery to talk to me, to give me those details he hasn’t shared with anyone else. I think they might be the key. And if I’m right?” She paused and drew in a deep breath, making sure she had his complete attention. “He’s still in danger. Whoever targeted the twins then will still want him dead. He’s a ticking time bomb.”

  Cody was silent for a second. “But it’s been twenty-five years. Who’s to say the kidnappers are still alive? Or the person or persons who hired them?”

  “One kidnapper. I’ve gotten that much out of him. Whoever the other two men were, they don’t seem to be in the picture anymore. We’re looking at one man, and if it’s an inside job, we’re talking family or friends of the Lockwoods. Emery’s kept himself locked up here pretty well, but I have a feeling he may be targeted soon. I read that Lockwood Industries is planning to release a new product that will change private security. Is that true?”

  The resident hacker coughed pointedly and gave a small nod. “It might be…I’m bound by confidentiality agreements not to say anything, but it will make a ton of money for the company in the coming months.”

  “And that’s exactly the type of thing someone would want to capitalize on if they were planning to take him out. At the right time, Emery’s death could make someone very rich. We just have to figure out who.”

  “One last question.” He steepled his fingers, eyeing her sharply, like a falcon watching a field mouse.

  “Ask.” She knew he meant to test her, could see it in his eyes. He would kill to protect Emery and right now he was making sure she wasn’t a threat.

  “Why do you care about Emery or what happened to him? Why do you need to solve this case so badly?”

  She didn’t answer right away, but sorted through the truths that filled her like crystal water in a large stone basin. She’d peered into that water long enough, for so many years, that she knew what mattered and what he wanted her to say because it’s what she would have wanted someone to say if she’d asked the question.

  “The man who took my friend, the man who took Emery…they can’t go free. It’s a battle waged every day. Good people try to protect innocent lives, but we don’t always win. When someone is lost…we have to find a way to pursue justice. We can’t allow people like that to go free, to harm others. I never really wanted to be a journalist, but I owed it to Rachel, to give her justice. If not her, then the thousands of other victims whose lives were violently ended and too soon. Emery deserves to have peace and know he’s safe, at least from the man who killed his brother. I wish I could have peace for what happened to Rachel. It’s about righting the wrongs, fighting evil. It’s my burden, my price. Do you understand?”

  “More than you know,” he replied in a low voice. He focused on her intently. “What do you need from me?”

  She was slightly surprised at his abrupt agreement. Whatever she’d said must have swayed him, and for that she was grateful. “First, I want you to get me everything you know about the Lockwood family. I need every police report, witness statement, anything you’ve got connected to that night.”

  “You got it, babe.” Cody winked and picked up his keyboard again. “Let’s catch some bad guys.”

  * * *

  Emery leaned back in the massive cherrywood chair at the end of the large conference table. Brant and seven other board members watched him. They’d just spent the last thirty minutes discussing whether the latest GPS locator was ready for its launch. The board would sometimes get their feathers ruffled when Emery went over their heads to get gadgets out on the shelves faster. To him it was simple. If the product had passed the safety and warranty tests, then it was ready to go. There was no need for large-scale delay and massive release parties to build hype around the product. Lockwood Industries had been founded on one concept: get a good product, make it affordable, and get it out into the hands of the consumer.

  In essence, Emery built products that could rescue people. Waterproof GPS locators, cellphones with satellite connectivity options, ground-penetrating radar. The goal for the devices to help people was of key importance. After everything that had happened to him as a boy, he’d wished he’d had something like the products he made. He’d have given anything for a cellphone that his parents could have traced to find him, but there hadn’t been anything like that then. Now, he made product that saved lives. And to Emery, that’s what mattered. Not a huge launch party for a product that might reveal massive defects only a month after it hit the market.

  “Gentleman, I think you’ll find releasing the Black Widow locator a week early will generate more interest and increase profits.”

  The murmur or reluctant agreement made him nod and stand. “I thank you all for coming.”

  The board members filed out of the room until only he and Brant remained. Morning light bathed the walnut-paneled room in rich gold. Emery was content to stay in the sun for a moment, absorbing its warmth. After last night, he felt as though the chilly rain had sunk deep into his bones.

  “What is it, Brant?” he finally asked.

  Brant placed his palms on the edge of the chair he’d been sitting in and looked Emery in the eye.

  “The board is concerned about you. You need to start coming to Manhattan for the meetings. They’re breathing down my neck about your reclusive tendencies again. A little mystery is all fine and well, but if the general public ever got wind of your…well, that nasty little club you frequent, things could go south for you very quickly. Spending more time with the board might win you support if that were to happen. We need to be meeting at the LI offices in Manhattan, not hopping on planes to come to you. I know you have issues…”

  Emery laughed, the sound bitter. “Come now, cousin, let’s not bandy words about. We both know you think I’m crazy.”

  Brant scowled. “I’ve never said that. You’re eccentric, that’s all.”

  “Uh huh.” Emery knew his cousin well. Sadly, it was only a matter of time before Brant would try to oust Emery from the CEO position.

  “Look,” Brant said, “I’m sorry to bring it up. We can talk later.” He glanced down at his watch and then attempted to make conversation again. “I suppose you aren’t coming to your parents’ costume ball, are you?”

  Emery started to shake his head but paused at the sound of musical laughter drifting down the halls. It stilled his heart for a mere instant, then it fluttered to life with the wild thrum of a hummingbird’s wings. How long had it been since he’d heard that? Laughter filled with innocence, joy, pleasure?

  Not since the kidnapping. Twenty-five years.

  His eyes closed. Time spun back on a gilded spindle, unweaving the span of dark years to a moment in his life when he had no fear, no pain.

  “Emery, look!” Fenn grinned and pointed out the window of their father’s study. The sun teased Fenn’s unruly locks, casting a shimmering halo of gold over his head. He splayed his hands on the window pane and pressed his face flat against the glass, making faces at Todd, the young gardener. The man laughed, a rich sound that had Emery laughing too.

  He joined Fenn at the window and pressed his face against the glass, making face
s at Todd. Todd grinned wickedly and raised the garden hose he’d been holding, aiming it at the window. Water splashed right at the glass in front of their faces. Both Emery and Fenn leapt back before realizing they couldn’t get wet.

  “No wonder it takes Todd so long to water the flowers.” A deep rumbling chuckle came from behind them.

  Emery spun, finding his father watching them from the doorway of his study. His father was a handsome man. His dark brown eyes warmed like the black coals and orange flames in the grill when he cooked hamburgers during the summer.

  “Dad!” Fenn ran to their father, catching his arm. “Mom says we can go outside since we’ve finished our lessons. Wanna come?”

  Emery joined his brother, grabbing his dad’s other arm. “Yeah, Dad, come on!”

  Their father laughed and shook his head. “I’ve got some work to finish, but I’ll join you in an hour.”

  Emery smiled up at his father. “Promise?”

  Dad patted his shoulder lightly. “Promise.”

  If only he’d known that was the last night he and Fenn would spend with their father before their world of safety and comfort would be torn asunder.

  The memory dissolved like morning mist evaporated by the rising sun, leaving behind a hollow ache, as if someone had punched him in the chest and stolen something vital.

  Somewhere in the house Sophie was laughing.

  His Sophie.

  A tremor of melancholy rippled through him, the epicenter of his sadness growing larger. He wasn’t making her laugh; someone else was. She was happy with whoever she was with, and it wasn’t him. The thought wounded him, a knife sunk deep in his stomach, wrenching painfully to expose his insides. In that moment Emery hated being hurt, hated that the mere sound of Sophie’s laugh caused him to feel this way. He should have known the price would be too high when he’d kissed her. She’d penetrated his carefully guarded heart, made him feel things he’d sworn never to feel, made him weak when he’d sworn never to be vulnerable again.

 

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