We had lunch in our room while Dylan nervously checked his bank statement every fifteen minutes. Finally, around two the ‘pending’ label disappeared from the account and Dylan was able to call Blake Harrington and tell him that he was good to go on contacting Austin Spencer. The funds were cleared and securely in Dylan’s account. It made me feel a little guilty to sit beside him and listen to his half of the phone call. Dylan was hiding nothing from me and I couldn’t say the same for myself.
“So, Blake, I have more than half a mil in my hands. Whatever happens, I’ll make it thanks to your wise advice. It might not sit right with the eventual heirs . . .”
Harrington said something that made Dylan laugh. “Okay, I won’t give in to pessimism.” Dylan nodded several times. “Right then, go make your lawyer magic and let me know your take on it as soon as you can. And thanks, Blake. I feel lucky to have you on my side.”
He set his phone on the table and said, “Well, babe, now we wait and see. It’s nighttime in London right now but Blake said he already drafted an email that will greet our Mr. Spencer as soon as he gets to the office in the a.m. Blake seems to be enjoying the game. He told me the more thought he gave to the so-called will, as he put it, the more fishy it became.”
“So, how do you want to kill time?”
“Would you mind terribly if I went and got a massage and took a sauna? I could use it.”
“Go right ahead. Mine was heavenly. Give yourself a treat.” He kissed me on the forehead and was out the door.
While I waited for him to return I called Dawn. She answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Rene, I was so hoping you’d call today. I can hardly think I’m so excited. Any news?”
I didn’t think Dawn needed to know about the shopping spree we’d had the day before or the wire transfer. My duplicity seemed to be multiplying by the day. Now I had secrets from both Dylan and his sister. I settled on telling Dawn that Dylan’s lawyer had started the process of unraveling the mystery of the will from his end.
“He won’t know anything until morning. Spencer’s already out of the office by now because it’s night time in London. Did you email him and ask for a copy of the will?”
“I did. As soon as you left I sent him an email. Nothing yet.”
“Let me know if you get anything. If I can’t answer, I’ll find a way to call you back.”
“Thanks Rene. Thanks for just everything. I’m walking on air just knowing my brother’s back in my life.”
“Well, he’s not quite back in your life yet, but hopefully soon.”
“Just knowing you makes him real for me. You’re the best.”
I hung up feeling so not the best. I called Hannah and got her up to speed on all that had happened since we arrived in New York but I left out the part about going to see Dawn. That was a secret I couldn’t share. I already knew that Hannah would not approve of me inserting myself into a situation that wasn’t mine to own.
Hannah got a charge out of my tale of the shopping spree and then the other shopping spree. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the complications surrounding the will.
“All that legal jargon is like a foreign language to me. But even I can figure out that Dylan’s father was one sicko. Why do you think he kept the two of them apart all those years?”
“Girlfriend, I do not know. But I’m crossing my fingers that there’s something not kosher in the whole thing. Now that Dylan has a fat stash of cash, he may not be willing to wait three years to find his sister. He tends to be impulsive.”
“Then the two of you are going to have trouble,” she laughed. “Two impulsive people make for a roller coaster of a relationship.”
“I didn’t really know that about him at first. Not that it would have made any difference. Dylan more or less had me at hello.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“Yes.”
“Have you told him?”
“At least a hundred times. To tell you the truth, I think he wants to move faster than I do.”
“Wow.”
“But there’s so much extra drama going on . . .”
“I hear ya. Just hang in. You know my mantra.”
“Yes, buddy, I will chill. I will do my best, I promise.”
“You’re a big worrier, Rene. I know you. And you know what worry does? Not a thing. It is wasted energy. Life is going to be what it is.”
“Like Mom says: que sera, sera.”
“Speaking of mom, have you called them?”
“I haven’t talked to them since I left on El Loco. It hasn’t been that long, you know. It just seems that way. I just can’t face them right now, Hannah.”
“Shame on you.”
“C’mon. It’s not like I reported in to them on a daily basis. For all they know I’m out in the middle of the ocean taking it easy on a big ole yacht. Why worry them with details?”
“God, I don’t want to be around when you tell them everything that’s happened.”
“Maybe I’ll just write a letter,” I said sheepishly.
“Chicken.”
“Dylan wants to meet them.”
“Ooooh, this is getting serious.”
“Yeah. I guess it is.”
When we hung up, I sat and thought about just how serious ‘this’ really was. Somehow telling my best friend that I loved a man made it seem so much more definite. I’d told his sister and now I’d told Hannah.
I picked up my tablet and read some stupid stories about celebrities whose lives I couldn’t be less interested in. I put the tablet down and sprawled out on the couch and thought about Dylan’s sister. Meeting her had helped me see him clearer. I had another perspective on what their lives were like growing up.
Dawn was a far gentler person than her brother and apparently more forgiving but she helped me put Dylan and his devils in perspective. Dawn was warm and lively and sweet in spite of the nightmare she’d lived through. The horror she experienced didn’t define her and I wasn’t going to define Dylan by it, either.
My hesitation with Dylan came from me putting him in a box. The events that had given him nightmares or made him balk at too much sympathy were not the most important qualities of the man. They were part of him, but only a small part. Being with Dawn enabled me to see that clearly.
We are all more than the events that shape us. We are damaged by mistakes or cruelty but we’re also strengthened and enriched by the way we overcome those events. Part of what I adored about Dylan was his ‘live life to the fullest’ gusto. Another part was his sheer strength and physical bravery. Then there was the tenderness I had seen with Lady Delaney and his loyalty and care for Stephen and the crew. Without the extremes of his childhood, would he have been the man I fell in love with?
I couldn’t hold those things apart from the totality of the man. Projecting my fear and playing ‘what if’ was unfair to both of us. Demanding all the answers and asking for certainty was unrealistic and doomed me to being stuck forever waiting to be sure.
Dylan is the man I love. He’s the only person I’ve ever known who makes the hours seem short and fills life with endless potential. I want to spend my life with this wonderful man. I want to have the noisy family and build our own little world.
The thoughts were as clear and right as the sun on the ocean. He was my destiny.
Chapter 30—Dylan
The morning came and went. We ate, we walked, and we killed slow hours waiting for a call from Blake Harrington. The resolution of my inheritance couldn’t come soon enough. I wanted, more than anything, to get on with life. A few days in New York with Rene had been fun, but I sensed that she was hanging in limbo, too.
Rene was unusually quiet. She didn’t choose to share what was on her mind but I figured, like me, she was just waiting for the phone to ring. Right after lunch, it did.
The elevator crawled up to the floor where Harrington, Fields and Norman, Attorneys at Law worked their legal magic. I didn’t ‘have a seat’ a
s the receptionist suggested. I was too keyed up to sit down. Blake had enough sense not to keep me waiting long.
“I’m not going to keep you in suspense, Dylan. As I suspected, Austin Spencer has not been able to produce the documents I requested. I spoke with him on the phone this morning and he became evasive and defensive when I suggested that we’d need some proof of his authority as executor of your father’s will.”
“So, what’s next?”
“We’re going to have to talk to other people within the Monarch organization and try to determine who else has access to your father’s private papers. I’ll start with Jackson’s personal assistant.”
“When I was in London, his assistant was on leave. Something about a gall stone.”
“We’ll find her. I’ve also sent a request to some of the senior officers and board members of the Monarch group. I’m going to try to handle the situation diplomatically. We can’t accuse Spencer directly, until we have some proof.”
“Isn’t the fact that he can’t support his claim to be executor proof enough?”
“It’s proof enough for me. That and the fact that the will is so full of holes and omissions makes me about ninety-five percent sure that Spencer is trying to pull something.”
“I’d sure like to know what the reasoning is behind keeping me from finding my sister.”
“That is quite a little mystery, isn’t it?” Blake leaned back in his chair and drew his lips tightly against themselves. “Who do you know who would have intimate knowledge of your father’s private affairs?”
“I wish I could be more helpful. I wasn’t at all involved in my father’s life. If he had friends, I never met them.”
“And your mother?”
I choked on the thought of Francesca Cruz. “I don’t know where she is or even if she’s still alive.” Blake was wearing a poker face and didn’t react.
“Were your parents legally divorced?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, either. My mother disappeared from my life when I was thirteen. My father and I never talked about it. My father and I never talked about much of anything to tell you the truth.”
“Do you know your mother’s maiden name?”
“Alcott.”
“Middle name?”
“Penelope.”
“Place of birth?”
“Both of my parents were born in Pennsylvania. Wayne. It’s a suburb of Philly. They were high school sweethearts, if you can believe such a thing. When my father went off to college, my mother followed him.”
“That’s nice and old-fashioned,” Blake said. I reminded myself that Blake didn’t have any background on my mother or the way Dawn and I grew up. He was operating in the dark. “Is there anything you can tell me that would help me locate your mother? Last address? Other relatives? How about your father? Any living relatives?”
“My father’s sister lives in Ft. Lauderdale. Rebecca Rawlings. Her husband’s name is John. My cousin Phoebe is their only child.” I paused and composed myself before I went on. “If you are trying to locate my mother, a good place to start would be mental institutions. Pricey, private, high security institutions.”
Blake raised his eyebrows, but added that to his notes. “High security?”
I took a deep breath. “Blake, my mother was never prosecuted for her crimes, but she was a criminal nonetheless. If my father had her institutionalized against her will it would have been in the tightest lock up he could find.”
“I see. What was the nature of those crimes?”
“Felony child abuse.”
My lawyer was quiet for a moment and then simply said, “I’m sorry, Dylan.”
“Yeah,” I answered, “me too.”
“Was your sister . . .?”
“She and I were both my mother’s victims.”
“Is there anything you can tell me that might help me locate Dawn?”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“I’m ninety-five percent sure, like I said. Besides, from my reading of that poor excuse for a will, there’s nothing in there that says someone else can’t contact Dawn. It says you aren’t to have any contact with her. And you won’t until I’m one-hundred percent sure it’s safe for you both.”
“So you’re certain there’s nothing in there that would prevent you from locating her, talking to her?”
“That’s another clue it’s bogus. I’m sure I could have written a better clause if that was your father’s real intent.”
“I’ll go with your gut. Just tell me what my part in all of this is.”
“I’m going to have to hire a private investigator here and I need to send one of our junior partners over to London to talk to the pertinent folks. I hate to tell you this because I know how impatient you are, but right now, your part is to wait.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“One thing you need to be aware of is the possibility that your father died intestate—without a will. If that’s the case, you’re going to have months of waiting. Assuming your parents never divorced, your mother would be entitled to a major share of the estate as will you and your sister.”
“That witch doesn’t deserve . . .”
Blake cut me off. “It isn’t a case of whether she deserves anything. The law is the law. I just want you to be prepared for all the possibilities. Right now, our first priorities are to locate both your mother and your sister and get access to whatever your father may have left in private files.”
I knew he was right. But I felt so helpless. And one of the worst parts of the situation was that I’d lost El Loco. I couldn’t sail off and forget myself on the ocean at a time when I needed it most. A thought flickered through my mind about chartering a boat and then the depressing reality hit me that I couldn’t afford to do that. Stephen and I had researched what El Loco would bring at charter. A week on a mega-yacht would eat up my entire net worth.
I wasn’t in the greatest mood when I got back to the St. Regis. I downloaded the conversation to Rene and she didn’t have much to offer in response until I got to the part about Blake searching for Dawn. Then she hit me right in the gut.
“Dylan, I have something I have to tell you about Dawn.” Rene’s eyes were wide. She looked very nervous. “I know you’re not going to like this. Well, you’ll like it, you just won’t like what I did. What I mean is . . .”
“Cut to the chase, Rene. What have you been up to?”
“I found her.”
“You found her,” I said flatly. “Care to tell me how?” The part of me that wanted to jump for joy was held firmly down by the realization that my little detective had been at it again. Only this time was a lot more serious that researching a hotel on the internet. I resented her intrusion instantly.
“She goes by Dawn Jackson.”
“What inspired you to look for her by that name?” I knew my voice was cold, I meant it to be.
“It was just a hunch,” she said and didn’t meet my eyes.
“So, you looked up Dawn Jackson and found my sister on the internet?”
“Not exactly. There are quite a few Dawn Jacksons. I only found her when I used her middle name.” Rene looked at me directly. “I got her middle name from the will. You left your email open and I looked.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that,” I said quietly.
“Dylan, I’m sorry I snooped. I don’t know why I did it.”
“I know why. Because you can’t leave anything alone. It’s not one of your finer points.” I wanted her to leave. I didn’t want to hear another lame apology and I was too angry to be curious about what she found out.
“I know. But listen to me. She’s doing great. The reason you never heard from her is that your father told her you were dead.”
“Whoa. You mean you talked to her? You called my sister without talking to me first?”
“I went to see her,” she whispered.
“You what?.” I was stunned at the deception; steamrolled by it.
&
nbsp; “She’s in Connecticut. Just graduated from nursing school. She looks just like you—she’s beautiful. She was so happy Dylan . . .”
“Stop. Just stop. You went up there when you told me you were going to the MoMa, didn’t you?” I picked the museum brochure from the coffee table. “You even covered your ass with this, didn’t you?” I hurled the magazine across the room, caught a lamp and it crashed to the floor.
“Please! I just thought I could help . . .”
“Help what, Rene? You didn’t know crap about anything. You risked my fortune, Dawn’s fortune and our relationship just because you’re so unbelievably nosey. In fact, you're out of control.”
“But you just told me Blake thinks the will is fake. And Dawn got a whole different story from Spencer. He didn’t say anything about you at all. He just told her she needed to stay quiet about her inheritance for three years. So Spencer does have some dirty dealings going on.”
“It seems he isn’t the only one.” The facts were seeping slowly through the red haze of my fury. Blake Harrington needed to talk to Dawn, like yesterday. I handed her my phone. “Call Blake Harrington right now. Tell him how to get in contact with Dawn.”
She reached for the phone, found Blake’s number and dialed. After she’d given him my sister’s phone number and an outline of their conversation, she handed the phone to me.
“Your girlfriend cut through a lot of the initial work for us, Dylan. Saved me some time. I might have to hire her in our research department. She has good instincts.”
“Yeah. She’s a real sleuth,” I said without taking my eyes off of Rene. She looked as uncomfortable as I intended for her to be.
“I’m going to call Dawn as soon as I get off the phone. I’m about at ninety-nine percent now, my friend. Spencer’s sloppy. I can’t imagine how he hoped to pull this scam off.”
“You’ll let me know, right?”
“As soon as I hang up, I’ll call you.”
“Thanks, man. And Blake, tell my sister I love her.”
“You got it.”
I hung up the phone and watched silently as Rene paced around the room trying very hard not to look like she was pacing. Part of me was exalting at the prospect of communication—even through a third party—with Dawn. But another part of me wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.
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