The Tycoon

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The Tycoon Page 42

by Anna Jeffrey


  “He’ll be glad to hear that. He was worried you were gonna plow ahead with it.”

  “He knows better than that. He knows I won’t risk the family fortune. Or go against family opinions.”

  “That’s not why I called. They arrested a kid named Billy Barrett for Kate’s fire. Ever hear of him?”

  “No.

  “Some wealthy woman in Dallas put up his bond money.”

  “Hunh,” Drake said, confused.

  “I don’t know what they’re thinking. They’re looking into his connections now and even into the idea that he might be involved somehow in harassing our whole family. Did you get a chance to make a list of incidents like Blake asked?”

  “I haven’t had time.”

  “Take time, will you? Blake really wants it. He wants us all to sit down together.”

  “I’ll make a list tonight, get back to you tomorrow.”

  After more short conversation, they disconnected. Drake sat back in his chair. Now his musing took a different turn. He searched his memory for the name Billy Barrett, but came up blank. He thought back to his various projects over the past few years, trying to target things that had happened that had caused him to spend unplanned money.

  Reconstruction of the Millennium Bank building had taken more than two years. He recalled an elevator falling five floors. The one passenger, an electrician, had been seriously injured, but survived. The insurance company had been satisfied the fall was an accident and had settled. Other incidents and accidents had occurred on that job, but none that struck him as unusual. Hazards were inherent in rebuilding a skyscraper.

  Soon after Lockhart Tower had opened, he had bought the old six-story Sears building just a block from the city center. He had gutted it and just begun reconstruction to turn it into apartments when a fire had broken out on the third floor and threatened the whole building. The Fort Worth cops had investigated as well as the fire department and the insurance company. It was declared an accident although no one ever established conclusively how the fire had started. Then there was Buzz’s truck accident.

  Could those incidents have been planned?

  He called Pic back. When his brother answered, he said, “Is Rafferty going to be around tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Pic answered.

  “See if you can round him up. If his theory is legit, we need to get to the bottom of it. I’m going to fly down there. Pick me up at the airport in a couple of hours.”

  He got to his feet, called the airport and requested the plane be readied to fly. Then he re-

  packed his duffle and headed out.

  ****

  Shannon was back in her office mid-afternoon. All but Chelsea were out in the field, hopefully getting listings or making sales or at least trying to do both. She chatted briefly with Chelsea, then closed herself into her office. She sat at her desk, preoccupied with all that was going on in her life. She wondered if Drake had heard from Heather Pennington.

  She stared at the calendar. The end of the workweek. Symbolic, she thought, of her affair with Drake. She didn’t know when, or if, she would hear from him again. No dates were planned and so far, he hadn’t been one to call up and chat. She was so distressed over the Lubbock trip, she didn’t know if she cared whether he called.

  On Saturday, she fell back into her routine, played catch-up in her office all day. She took Grammy Evelyn to church on Sunday morning and worked in her office on the files in the afternoon. The only extraordinary occurrence was getting a call from Colleen wanting to know about the trip. Now she wished she had never told Colleen and Gavin Drake’s name. No telling what they would do with that information.

  Chapter 38

  Drake stayed at the Double-Barrel five days, during which he rode with Pic and Dad and helped with their various chores around the ranch. They had talked extensively about who could be out to inflict revenge on the family, but come to no conclusions.

  He had been sobered by the meetings with Texas Ranger Blake Rafferty and his partner. They had convinced him of the revenge angle. What had been an arson-caused barn fire had morphed into something bigger and more insidious. So far, damage had been done only to property. But were any of the family members in personal danger? If the weather hadn’t been cold, wet and lousy most of December and January, Drake might be persuaded the mysterious villain was responsible for his problems on Lone Star Commons.

  But who hated the Lockharts so much? The cops didn’t know, but Drake knew that with the family’s history, the list could be long. Through the years one Lockhart or another had stepped on many toes.

  From Drinkwell, he had arranged to beef up security on everything he had anything to do with and Dad and Pic now had ranch hands patrolling the pastures at night, hoping to prevent harm to the cattle. Drake and Pic had personally moved some of Kate’s horses back to Will’s secure barn and some to the Double-Barrel’s horse barn, where someone would be watching twenty-four/seven. Above all, he had to guard against paranoia.

  He pondered what to do about Shannon. By association with him, was she in danger? Should he warn her?

  The threat of incoming bad weather and more possible delays on the Lone Star Commons project recaptured his attention. Just when he was considering it was time for him to return to Fort Worth, a call from his assistant came on his Blackberry.

  “Are you coming back soon?”

  “I was just thinking about flying back today. What’s up?”

  “Mail you should take a look at, I think. It’s personal.”

  For her to call him about something personal on his Blackberry that had numerous security features, it had to be something highly confidential, thus important. And it was most likely something he didn’t want to discuss in the presence of his brother and father. “I’m finished here. I’ll be up there soon.”

  Soon after lunch, Debra sat patiently across from him while he perused a thin sheaf of papers that included a young man’s picture that looked like a mug shot. The report in his hands was a summary of an investigation conducted by Pruett Security Services. He hadn’t used the company himself, but he knew someone who used it regularly—Don Stafford. He was certain that neither the security company nor Stafford would have sent this information anonymously. The more he read, the angrier he became. A few bits the information jumped out at him as being similar to what his mother had said a few days ago.

  “This came yesterday?” he asked Debra. “But you don’t know where it came from?

  “No idea.”

  “You’ve read it. What do you think about what’s in it?”

  His assistant shrugged a shoulder. “This is the woman who went to Hawaii with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Honest opinion? I don’t see anything damning in there. Who hasn’t done dumb things when he was a kid?”

  Thinking of his own younger days, Drake couldn’t disagree. “I know what you mean. What

  concerns me more than what’s in it is who’s responsible for it.”

  “Someone’s trying to raise a stink,” Debra said. “No doubt about it.”

  Mom, was his first thought. So how would his mother get to know one of the top corporate spy organizations in the Metroplex? Some of her friends at Riverside Country Club where she played golf? If so, that meant she had been indiscreetly discussing him and his activities with people who might not have his best interests at heart, a thought that only contributed to his simmering anger.

  Then, there was a darker possibility than his mother. He had lost count of the times Donna had called him since the night of the TCCRA party. He had never returned her calls. He knew her to be spoiled and determined to have her way. He also knew her to be scheming and small-minded enough to do something like this. He couldn’t believe she and his own mother would be in cahoots, but the evidence glared back at him. And how had they learned who Shannon was? He thought he had been cautious about keeping her name from everybody.

  He turned to the last page and slid it across the de
sk to Debra. “See that small logo on the bottom left corner? That’s the name of a security company. See if you can find out who ordered this.”

  “Will do, bossman.”

  After Debra left his office, he picked up the picture of Shannon’s former husband and studied it more thoroughly. Based on what Shannon had told him, nothing about it was shocking or even surprising.

  He checked his watch, then picked up his desk phone. His mother answered after only a couple of burrs. “Drake. I’m so glad to hear from you. Are you back from the Double-Barrel?”

  Drake’s set his jaw. No doubt she and Dad had been talking. “I’m in my office. How’s it going today, Mom?”

  “Not well. I had a golf date, but just look at the weather.”

  “Say, Mom, have you ever heard of Pruett Security Service?”

  Silence. Then, “Uh…I’m not sure. What is it?”

  The hair on the back of Drake’s prickled. Oh, yeah. She knew the company. Though he suspected her complicity in this scheme to damage Shannon, he didn’t want to believe it. “Ever hear of Shannon Piper?”

  More Silence. Then finally, “Drake, what’s this about?”

  Now unadulterated wrath coursed through his system. He barely refrained from shouting. “It’s about a report I got in the mail, Mom. Sent anonymously. Your fingerprints wouldn’t be on it, would they?”

  “Drake, I tried to discuss it with you,” she said hurriedly. “But you cut me off and…”

  “This is a smear-job. And it’s despicable. Please tell me you haven’t had personal contact with Shannon Piper.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never known why you try to get into the middle of what I’m doing. I just want the answer to one question. Is Donna Schoonover a part of this?”

  Silence. Then, “She—she was kind enough to, uh—”

  “Kind, my ass. I wonder if you even know what you’ve done.”

  “You will not speak to me like this, William Drake Lockhart. What I’ve done is try to save you from yourself.”

  “I don’t need saving. You’ve exposed somebody I care about and her small business to a viper who’s liable to do anything to cause trouble. And what’s worse, I don’t know how either

  you or I can un-do it. This is it, Mom. The last straw. No more of your meddling bullshit.” He slammed the receiver back into its cradle.

  He willed himself to calm down. He got to his feet and walked over to the windows, looked out onto the streets below. He had to protect Shannon from his family. But how? He had no control over what Donna did or might do. And apparently he had no control over what a member of his own family might do.

  Just then, Debra tapped on his door and stuck her head into his office. “Come in,” he told her.

  “Wasn’t hard to find out. I called on an old friend. Apparently that investigation was done for Donna Schoonover.”

  Drake closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m not surprised. Thanks, Debra.”

  All at once, all he could think of was going home. Chick had picked him up at the airport and driven them to the apartment complex site. He had barely made it back from Drinkwell before the storm moved in. The rain started before they reached Lone Star Commons. shut down the job and sent the workers home. Then Chick had delivered him back to his office.

  To get to his condo, he either had to walk or take a cab. The traffic snarl below him would be at least half an hour straightening itself out. He stepped out of his office and asked Debra if there was an umbrEvelyn in the office and she promptly produced one.

  On his way home, he stopped again in front of the jewelry store display window. Through the veil of a steady rain, his gaze volleyed between the diamond and emerald wedding ring and the diamond encrusted heart necklace. One was a nice gift that meant one thing, the other meant something infinitely more profound. He knew one way to protect Shannon for damn sure. He walked inside.

  Thirty minutes later, he walked out with a simple ring in his pocket, a style more suited to Shannon’s personality. When he reached the condo and checked with the concierge, he was told a guest, Tammy Harper, had come several times to swim. Drake was glad he missed her.

  At home, he set his crazy family out of his thoughts and placed the ring the granite island in his kitchen. He studied it, perched and glittering in its navy blue box. The center stone that the jeweler had called a princess cut was a certified natural yellow diamond. Two lines of smaller white stones flanked the larger one in the middle. The jeweler had called it an investment piece. Drake was no expert on jewelry, but he had to admit, it was as good-looking as any piece of jewelry he had ever seen.

  He had told the jeweler he wanted the ring’s recipient to know how much she meant to him, yet be unpretentious. For sure, Drake could have bought something bigger and flashier, but he was afraid Shannon wouldn’t like wearing it.

  Now he had to decide the perfect way to present it to her. Thinking about the mischievous things he could do made him smile.

  He had kept her separated from his family and hadn’t wanted to connect her to their problems. He hadn’t even talked about them much. Sometimes the Lockhart clan was a hard pill for an outsider to swallow. But if he asked Shannon to be his wife, the family involvement couldn’t be avoided. He called her and got her voice mail. Instead of leaving a message, he sent her a text: Busy week. Sorry not to call. Come up for the weekend.

  A couple of hours later, he received an answering text: Can’t. Sorry.

  What was that about? He re-read her text message. This was a repeat of an old story—him waiting, her sending unclear signals and text messages. The last time, he had weakened and called her. This time, he would not. If she wanted to talk to him, she would have to call. He

  walked back to the kitchen island and shut the lid on the ring box.

  Just then, Pic called. He sounded breathless. “Drake, I just talked to Blake. Well, to tell the truth, it wasn’t a conversation. It was an interrogation. They’re adding a new name to their list of persons of interest.”

  “Who is it? You?” Drake couldn’t keep from chuckling at his own joke.

  “That’s not funny. It’s Troy, Drake.”

  That news came like a punch. Drake’s butt sank to the edge of the counter. “Are you shitting me? Why?”

  “He doesn’t have an alibi for that night. He’s lied to them twice, so now they don’t believe anything he says.”

  Drake began to hear the thrum of his pulse in his ears. “What kind of lies?”

  “He first told them he was out on a date in Fort Worth, but they couldn’t locate the woman. So he gave them a different name. They couldn’t find her either. Then he told them everything he had already said to them was wrong information and that he was at a woman’s house in Dallas. But he refused to give them her name or an address.”

  “Why?” Drake asked again, growing more disbelieving with every second.

  “Well…if that’s where he really was, she’s married, Drake. He said he didn’t want to damage her reputation.”

  Drake couldn’t hold back a huff of impatience. “Is her reputation worth his ass?”

  “Her husband’s a politician. He’s a well-known politician. You remember Duncan Fisk?”

  The faint thrum in Drake’s ears became a drumbeat as the fight or flight instinct spiked inside him. Fisk was a six-term congressman who sat on half a dozen powerful committees in Washington. He was no friend to agriculture and no friend of the Lockharts. Dad had locked horns with him many times over water and fences and more recently, permits for new gas wells. The family had actively opposed him in every election. His wife continued to live in Dallas most of the time.

  Drake gave himself a few seconds to pick up his jaw. Finally, he asked, “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

  “Calm down now. I’m just now finding out about it myself.”

  “Like hell,” Drake said. “You told me Troy was with a woman in Dallas back
when Kate’s fire happened.”

  “I knew he was fucking around with somebody in Dallas back then, but I didn’t know her name. I thought it was probably some cute chick he met at a horse show.”

  “That description fits Dorinda Fisk. Except she’s about ten or twelve years older than Troy.”

  “You know her?” Pic asked.

  “She’s a satellite friend of Donna Schoonover’s. She’s a cougar. Makes a hobby of collecting young guys. She puts pictures on Facebook.”

  “Jee-sus Christ. That’s a perfect set-up a horny kid like Troy might fall into.”

  “Does Dad know what Troy’s doing?”

  “I don’t know how he would. I haven’t mentioned it and I’d be real surprised if Troy has.”

  Drake sighed for a third time.

  “Troy said they asked him for permission to search his house and garage, but he refused to let them,” Pic said.

  Though Troy ran his horse training operation from a small old ranch he leased, he lived in one of the houses on the Double-Barrel a few miles away from the ranch house. Years back, he

  had decided that living in the ranch house with Pic and Dad would put too many restraints on his

  social activities.

  “Goddammit, Pic—”

  “It’s no big deal, Drake.

  “When the cops want to search your house, Pic, it’s a big damn deal. It seems a little late after the fact to be searching somebody’s house. Do you have any idea what they’re looking for?”

  “Nope. Troy said his conversation with Blake was casual. He said he told them he was gonna be gone and didn’t want them in the house when he wasn’t there.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He and Kate just pulled out for San Antone. They’re going to a horse show.”

  “That casual attitude on Blake’s part is a ruse, Pic. They want to throw Troy off guard. If they decide to get a search warrant, they won’t give a damn if he’s there or not. In fact, they’d probably like it if he wasn’t there.”

 

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