Billionaire Benefactor Daddy: A Single Dad & Virgin Romance Boxset

by Natalia Banks

  The screen pictured a man Kerri recognized as the same L.A. County Coroner who handled Mark’s case. He stood behind a podium with a number of mics affixed to it, cameras flashing bulbs, cameras rolling.

  One reporter asked, “Do you know how the anal lacerations occurred?”

  The coroner sighed. “We don’t know exactly. We have seen such tissue damage from a number of sources. The source of these particular wounds does not seem to have been, um organic.”

  Kerri knew exactly what that meant. Carl may have been shoving things up his butt, a man’s cock wasn’t what caused his last set of cuts. So, what could have?

  The coroner went on, “As to what object or instrument did cause the damage, we cannot say; various objects are often used for personal pleasure, though none of those were found at the scene. It could also have been a plastic tube. We can say, without a doubt, that Mr. Harrington’s heart attack was brought about by an overdose of prescription medication, all of which were prescribed to Mr. Harrington, though obviously not such high doses.”

  “Did he take the meds anally;” one reporter asked, “is that what you’re saying?”

  The coroner said, “The way the drugs travel through the system, it’s hard to say precisely. Pharmaceuticals, as well as other drugs, are known to be more effective when taken anally, and Mr. Harrington was taking a good amount of these pills, which were legally prescribed. So it’s entirely possible that Mr. Harrington chose this method of ingesting the medication, or perhaps he had a friend aid him in the practice, though nobody has come forth. Or he could have enjoyed a regular, everyday enema.”

  “Was any tube found at the scene or presented to you as evidence?”

  “None was presented to me. That leads me to believe they may not have recovered a tube on the scene.”

  “But doesn’t that mean there would necessarily be a second individual involved?”

  “I can only speculate, but there could be any number of things which may have occurred. The lacerations were not deep and had shown some signs of healing; we estimate within a few hours of death. But the subject could have received it at a second location, then returned home. A second party may have taken the tube with them, but have left without any knowledge of Mr. Harrington’s condition.”

  “But there would be a second person involved at some point?”

  “Complicating those matters, as I understand it, was that the morning of Mr. Harrington’s death and discovery, his garbage had been scheduled to be removed, so he could just as easily have thrown the thing away and then returned to his bedroom and expired there. If the thing was lacerating him, it would make sense that he’d dispose of it. It’s an easy thing to replace.”

  “Does that mean a second person wouldn’t be criminally complicit?”

  The coroner sighed. “I’m not a police investigator, but I would imagine this might change the nature of the investigation, at least in so far as a second person may be complicit in this accidental overdose. If that’s true, I’d hope the person would come forward so we could settle this.”

  “Is that a crime? Would that person be vulnerable to persecution?”

  “Well, again, I’m not an investigator, but I shouldn’t think so if this was an accidental overdose of legal substances and there was no criminal intent.”

  “What if there was criminal intent?”

  The coroner smiled. “Again, I’m not a criminal investigator.”

  Kerri raised the smartphone, but she didn’t call Yvonne.

  Chapter 16

  “So it’s inconclusive,” Harden said, once back in the Malibu mansion with Kerri. “He could have been self-administering it, probably was. Maybe your former leading lady had something to do with it. Something about her always struck me kind of odd.”

  “Whaddaya think? She’s an actress. She did say she was worried about him the morning he died, but that only supports the idea that he was taking those pills in major doses—”

  “Big enough to kill him?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Harden slowly paced around the living room, Kerri on the couch. “And it could have been a girlfriend or a boyfriend off the set—a whore; who knows? Unless somebody comes forward—”

  “We’d not only be throwing money away, but only clouding the waters further. But think about it: if Big Pharma or some wild cabal actually did kill Carl, now all they have to do is send out one person to claim that they were helping administer it to him, voluntarily, and with legal substances, and they walk. I wouldn’t be surprised to see that happen in the next twenty-four hours. Then the murder’s covered up forever, Big Pharma is safe and sound, you seem like a total screwball—”

  “Harden!”

  “I’m sorry, Kerri, but you know it’s true. They laughed us out of that police department in Zurich, and the internet is alive with rumors—different ideas about you one way or another. We’re not in a strong position, Ker, especially about the whole Big Pharma thing and the billboards.”

  “Really? How can people turn a blind eye to things that can kill you so easily?”

  Harden looked deep into Kerri’s eyes in a way that almost frightened her. “Things like alcohol, tobacco, sugar, fast food?”

  “Those don’t happen so fast.”

  “And people don’t generally pump them up their ass.”

  “Actually, I’ve heard that drunks and high schoolers use tampons, soak them in hard alcohol and stick them—”

  “And that wouldn’t be big liquor’s problems, would it? Is that using the products properly?” Kerri wanted to disagree. “I’m not saying there aren’t better ways to manage healthcare, of course there are. And we’re going to find them, Kerri, and we’re going to bring them to the people as best we can. But that young man’s death only proves that, at the moment, we’re tilting at windmills, just like they said.”

  Kerri sat with a leaden cloak of guilt draped over her shoulders, her posture sagging under its weight. “Does that mean…that I really did have something to do with Carl’s death? That they murdered him to shut me up?”

  “I don’t think so, Kerri, I really don’t. My P.I. didn’t turn up a thing, and he’s the best there is.”

  “Then who was shooting at me in Switzerland?”

  Harden sighed, but he could offer no answer. That terrified her more than anything that had happened to her.

  Yet.

  The crowd of reporters cluttered around Kerri, standing in front of the gates of the Malibu mansion she shared with Harden, who stood next to her.

  “What do you think of the rumor that you two had anything to do with Carl’s death, in light of this new information?”

  Kerri and Harden glanced at one another, and Kerri answered, “We don’t pay attention to rumors. What do you think of your part in perpetrating them?”

  “Just trying to clear things up,” the reporter said.

  “So are we,” Harden said. “So let’s make this perfectly clear. Neither my wife, Kerri Steele, nor I had anything to do with the death of Carl Harrington. We’ve made ourselves available to authorities; the crime scene has been thoroughly combed as far as we know—”

  “What would you know about it? You have friends in high places, we hear.”

  “I do,” Harden said. “So go talk to them, if you like. But anybody who continues to suggest that we’ve done anything which we haven’t may be facing legal recrimination. Do your jobs responsibly, ladies and gentlemen of the press.”

  The reporters threw up a froth of questions, one louder and clearer than the others. “What happened in Switzerland—the skiing accident?”

  Kerri said, “I know that’s another thing people are talking about. I voluntarily let them take a blood test, and that proves I wasn’t drunk or high. And I’ve never had any history of mental illness. Do I have to go be examined to prove that? Suppose I do? Will it matter, will anyone listen, or would they just come to their own conclusions regardless of the facts?”

  One reporter asked
, “Mr. Steele, what about the reports of your connection to the New Jersey mafia, and the questionable deaths that happened in your own home just last year?”

  “There’s nothing questionable about those deaths,” Harden said with calm authority. “They were pursing a debt incurred by my wife’s first husband—the late actor, Mark McCall. Some men came to me and I tried to satisfy her debt. There was some…discrepancy in the transaction and a subsequent misunderstanding. All I can tell you is that the men were threatening us; one died in the struggle. The other received a phone call—I can’t say from whom—then wandered out in front of my house and committed suicide. That’s all I know about it, but I hardly consider it unexplained.”

  “But in your life, Mr. Steele, it hardly seems unusual.”

  Harden shrugged. “I suppose that’s a matter of perception.”

  Kerri said, “None of this is my husband’s doing. I’m the troublemaker in this relationship.”

  Some reporters chuckled, but one asked Kerri, “What about your billboards? Doesn’t this prove your point, about Big Pharma?”

  A lump rose in Kerri’s throat, her mouth going dry. She felt a moment of truth come upon her, and she knew she couldn’t turn away from it.

  “I know the billboards have upset a lot of people, but I think they’ve served a worthy purpose, as well, to remind us all that there are powers that profit from our sickness and sorrow, and even boost their profits by nursing our misery.”

  The reporters waited with silent anticipation, and Kerri felt they knew what she was going to say. But there was no going back now.

  “Nevertheless, I’m going to keep those billboards up, and put more of them up across the country. If it can spread word of the dangers of Big Pharma, then my campaign will continue, regardless of what people say about or think about it or me.”

  Kerri felt Harden’s gaze falling on her, but she kept staring straight out over the press, presenting a forward-facing fearlessness she wanted her enemies to see.

  Chapter 17

  George Hume shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I kind of thought you were gonna go a different way, that’s all. Now you’re just making it worse!”

  Kerri flipped a casual shoulder. “It’s too late to save Carl Harrington, but there are others.”

  “What about you? They’ll come after you again, just the same way they did on your film set, that business in Switzerland—”

  “What do you know about what happened in Switzerland?”

  “I called them to get the facts of the interview.”

  “You what? George, how dare you?”

  George sighed. “I’m your business manager, Kerri. You show up looking like a lunatic on some ski slope in Switzerland, I hear you talked to the cops; I gotta look into it.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “The Swiss paparazzi were all over you, Ker—pictures of you and Harden touristing around Zurich. You’ve become an international laughing stock, for Christ’s sake!”

  “Caring what other people think is an actor’s problem, not mine.”

  “But whatever you want to do, whatever plans you have, even if you’re just gonna hole up in that beachfront mansion and raise billionaire babies, do you really want them to see those billboards?”

  “As a matter of fact,” Kerri said, “that’s just why I’m doing it.”

  “Then show them your family photo album!”

  “George, we’ve talked about this.”

  “I know, I know, it’s your way or the highway.”

  “On this, yes.” But a long, tense silence passed before Kerri added, “George, I’m not sure we’re on the same page anymore.”

  “No no, it’s fine, I mean, whatever you want. It’s your money, right?”

  “That is right, George. It’s my crusade, it’s my business, and it’s my life.”

  “Yes, Kerri, I get that, I really do.”

  But Kerri didn’t have to think too long about it. “I don’t think you do, George. At least, not anymore.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Kerri stood up, tucking her handbag under her arm. “I’m sorry, George, but your services will no longer be required.”

  “Kerri, I was just trying to—”

  “Prepare my records in full; don’t even think about touching a cent until I can have this seen to.”

  George hung his head, eyes fixed on Kerri from under his brow. “Are you sure about this, Kerri?”

  “Is there some reason I shouldn’t be?”

  George glanced around his office, then back at Kerri. “We’ve worked well together for so long, through the ups and downs… Maybe we should just relax, step back, and take another look at this whole thing—”

  “That’s just what I’m doing, George—taking a whole new look at our relationship. I’m afraid it’s no longer going to be good business for me.”

  “I understand,” was all George could say, a voice low and submissive. “I’m sure your husband has greater resources anyway.”

  “My husband has nothing to do with it, George. Harden’s my husband, not my father, and he’s certainly not my master! I was a functioning individual before I met Harden Steele.”

  “I know that very well, Kerri; I was a loyal and faithful friend for many of those years. I was there with you during the lean times.”

  “And we always appreciated it,” Kerri said, surprised at the strength in her own voice, echoes of Harden’s own. “Please, just prepare my files as I’ve requested.”

  George swallowed hard and nodded. “I will, of course.”

  “Very good,” was all Kerri felt like saying before turning on her heels and walking purposefully out George’s office door, not even bothering to close it behind her.

  Kerri felt good on her way down to the car, like she was finally getting her affairs in order.

  She thought about Harden, about the effect he’d been having on her: opening up new disciplines, new facets of her own inner strength. And the more she exercised her new strength, in bed and out, the more strength she found she could draw on. Kerri was steadily growing into the person she always knew she was meant to be.

  Her skin crawled to think about the shooting on the hillside in Switzerland. She had to ask herself, Could it have been my imagination after all? Maybe the branch broke because of too much ice or snow weighing it down.

  Oh yeah, Kerri’s inner skeptic challenged her, what about the dings on the rock, clear as a bell?

  But Kerri could only return one answer. Were they? I was going pretty fast; maybe some other skier nearby was knocking little pebbles into the rock as they passed. I wasn’t really looking for other skiers; I was so fixed on the rock.

  As Kerri walked on, she felt better and better about her decisions, while feeling sillier about her previous concerns.

  If Harden says there’s no cabal, Kerri reasoned, I’m sure there isn’t one. Of everyone I know, he is above reproach. And he knows a lot more about this kind of thing than I do. I mean, gunmen chasing me down a hillside on skis; it is a bit James Bond, isn’t it? And the face on that Swiss cop’s face; no wonder he was looking at me that way.

  Kerri couldn’t help but chuckle out loud, shaking her head as she crossed the lobby to the street.

  No silly theories are going to cloud my thinking again, Kerri silently swore. Not again! It’s time to look at the world the way Harden does, to be the kind of person Harden is. I’m already getting there, little by little. He doesn’t let anybody mix him up, get in his way. And I’m his wife; I’m just as strong. How could he be happy with me as a wife if I didn’t rise to the occasion, be the kind of person he sees in me: strong the way he is, determined and unflappable the way he is?

  * * *

  Harden.

  I do love him, his mastery and control in every instance. And I love it when he controls me, down to the smallest twitch of my big toe. But I want to do some of the controlling too. And I certainly want to be in control of myself! That’s what
he’s been teaching me, and after all this nuttiness, I think it’s finally time I did just that! Harden doesn’t let anybody control him, and neither should I, unless it’s when and where I want. That’s what he loves in me, among other things.

  Kerri was almost at her car when her smartphone rang inside her purse, a familiar name on the screen. “Britany, hi!”

  “Ker,” the little, metallic voice exuded cheerfully, “so glad I got you!”

  “Well, this is my mobile, I’ve always got it—”

  “Could have been charging; doesn’t matter. How are you, honey? I heard about that silliness in Zurich and all the rest. God, I wish those losers would all just crawl back into the woodwork.”

  Kerri wasn’t sure exactly which losers Britany meant, or why she was really calling. And she certainly couldn’t disagree. “So, what’s up, Brit? Are you workin’?”

  “That’s why I’m calling! I got a role in a new movie—really intense family drama, right? And I was talking to the producer—he’s Saudi Arabian, the son of some sheikh or something, and he’s getting into the movie game. So I mentioned you as the director, and he flipped!”

  Director? Kerri shook her head, resisting the temptation.

  But she wound up saying, “Gee, Brit, I dunno. I’m really on the outs in Hollywood. Are you sure you want your new movie to go down in flames like our last one?”

  “Won’t happen,” Britany said, “I promise. Kerri, what happened to our movie was tragic—a nightmare. You can’t let that be your artistic epitaph, can you?”

  “My—? Brit, I’m going to focus on other things, you know?”

  A pause lingered, during which Kerri could almost hear Britany smiling. “Kids are great! So let’s make this movie before you and Harden get down to those other things.”

  Kerri broke out in an uncomfortable chuckle. “It’s not about that,” Kerri said.

  “No, it’s not. It’s about you wiping out all those stupid rumors. You know how it is, Kerri. You’re only as good as your last project, right? So why not just do one more great one—your directorial debut at last. Then, y’know, you can decide what you want to do then. But at least you’ll leave them on a high note. And then everybody will forget all the…um, the rest of it.”