Trouble with Nathan

by Anna J. Stewart

  “Um, I really hate to interrupt, but did you find Kolfax?” Laurel asked.

  “I did.” Rylan nodded. “He made one stop before heading to the airport, at least that’s what he said to the cab driver who picked him up at this run-down mess of an apartment in the Tenderloin. Either he’s the most inept Fed on the planet, or he didn’t care what anyone found.”

  “The jury’s still out on how inept he is,” Nathan said. “What did you find?”

  “A list of names, a couple of pay stubs from SylEctus, and enough C-4 to level half a block. Detonators, wires, and some diagrams to some warehouse in Los Angeles. I checked out the address.” He tapped open his phone and showed them the news report. “Place went up in flames about six weeks ago. Arson suspected. I’m guessing now we have a suspect.”

  “Did you take pictures of what you found?”

  “Yep.” He handed over his phone. “I already sent everything to your dad. Figured he’d want to take a look at it seeing as how you and your sister nearly got blown up in that same fire. That reminds me.” He tossed an overnight envelope to Nathan. “That was left for you at the front desk.”

  “How did you get it?” Nathan asked.

  Rylan grinned.

  Laurel stopped moving her head from side to side like she was watching a Ping-Pong match. “I’m sorry, you were almost what?” she asked Nathan.

  “I’ll tell you about it on the plane.” Nathan waved away her concern and glanced uneasily at the envelope, no doubt those accident reports he’d asked Cassidy to track down. “So we can definitely link Kolfax to SylEctus then. And to the warehouse explosion?”

  “Not sure if it would stand up in court, but I buy it,” Rylan said.

  “Mac told us the other day that Kolfax is obsessed with him,” Laurel said, “That he wouldn’t put it past him to come at him through Jackson. What’s the old saying? The enemy of my enemy is—”

  “My friend,” Rylan finished. “From what I know about Alastair Manville, he’s survived this long by using people’s weaknesses against them. And trust me, Kolfax’s weakness is definitely my father. He didn’t like being made a fool of by your family.”

  “Hey, before we have to go.” Laurel leaned her butt against the back of the couch beside Rylan and batted her lashes at him. He looked at her, sadly, with something akin to brotherly amusement. “I didn’t get the chance to ask Mac about the Widow’s Peak job. How exactly did you guys—”

  “Laurel,” Nathan warned. “Not now.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk later,” she whispered to Rylan. “You two talk amongst yourselves. I’m going to go call my daughter then take a shower.” When Nathan’s phone rang she could tell by his expression who it was. “Whatever she says, we’ll work through it.” She squeezed his arm as she passed, hoping against hope that somehow Cassidy wasn’t about to confirm Nathan’s worst fear.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “The last time my father picked me up from the airport was the day my mother was killed.” Nathan couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop his guts from churning as the last two years of his life shifted off its axis. He felt Laurel’s comforting hand on his arm as he stared out the jet’s window to where Jackson stood beside his car, stoic, in his suit and tie, silver hair barely moving in the summer breeze. The dark glasses on his face didn’t do much to hide his set jaw and tense mouth, all signs his father, much like Nathan, was at a loss. “I’d talked to her the night before. She wanted to throw Dad a surprise birthday party. Like she could have kept it a secret. She hated secrets.”

  Ironic given how many of them the Tremaynes had racked up since Catherine’s death.

  “I know this is hard.” Laurel leaned her chin on his shoulder and for a moment, Nathan let himself accept the comfort. “Would it have been better if you’d never known?”

  “Maybe.” No. He was right yesterday. The truth was always better. If only it didn’t hurt so damned much. He might hate Alastair Manville and everything he’d done, but Nathan did have Alastair to thank for bringing Laurel into their lives. He reached out and covered her hand with his, the strength in her grasp increasing his. “It’s like losing her all over again. And if it feels that way to me—”

  “Your dad will get through this. And so will your sisters,” Laurel whispered. “But we need to finish this, Nathan. Once and for all. We need to be out from under Alastair’s control.”

  “Yeah. I know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and gave himself a sharp shake. He wasn’t the only one with a score to settle. As enraged as he was over Alastair’s role in his mother’s death, he couldn’t imagine the fear Laurel must be experiencing knowing her daughter could be in the maniac’s sights. Thank God he’d had the foresight to get Joey and Poppy out of town. “I did the right thing, didn’t I? Telling Dad what we found out over the phone?”

  “There’s only one way to be sure. Come on.” She tugged at him and got out of her chair. He followed her off the plane, the hot exhaust air of the private airstrip bathing them in fuel fumes and that distinctive stench of diesel as the sun dipped down.

  “Dad.” Nathan hefted his bag over his shoulder as Jackson pulled a silver watch out of his pocket.

  “I never went through her effects after the accident,” Jackson said, his voice tight. “There didn’t seem any point until now. This was with her clothes. It’s not hers.”

  “It looks like the one from Olivia Manville’s accident photos. I’ll take it and make sure.” Laurel took the watch and headed around to the other side of the car and climbed in.

  “You’re sure about this?” Jackson asked, hands back in his pockets as he angled his chin up into the sun. “You’re certain Alastair killed her?”

  “Laurel and I looked over the reports. Olivia Manville and Mom were both killed on the same day twenty years apart. Both in car crashes on the freeway. Both hit pylons at a high rate of speed. Olivia’s watch was found at the scene of Mom’s accident. As Mac told us, there aren’t any coincidences where Alastair is concerned.”

  “I haven’t been able to think straight since you called. Can’t even begin to see where we go from here.”

  “Laurel has a plan,” Nathan told him. “I’m not entirely sure what it is just yet, but I trust her.”

  “Do you? That’s a change.”

  “I do, and tell me about it.” Since knowing Laurel he felt as if he’d been hit over the head with a sledgehammer and didn’t mind the headache. “Her daughter’s life is at stake as much as anyone’s.” Nathan hesitated. “I love her, Dad.”

  “You say that as if you’re apologizing for it.”

  Nathan flinched. “Loving Laurel doesn’t exactly make things easy.” Especially, it seemed, for Laurel.

  “Loving someone never does.” Jackson dipped his head and a small smile curved his lips. “I got a call today from Aaron Shackleford.”

  Nathan’s eyebrows shot up. “The lawyer you brought in during Morgan’s Nemesis questioning?”

  “Both he and Veronica were notified by the district attorney’s office that they’re re-investigating my connection to the Nemesis case as well as the theft of the crown. Seems they’ve been contacted by an anonymous source stating to have incontrovertible proof I’m responsible for both.”

  “Checkmate.” So much for thinking Joey was Alastair’s endgame. Damn! If only he’d gotten ahold of the crown, Manville would have one less thing to use against his father. “Alastair’s done hiding. He’s coming for us.”

  “Fully loaded it seems.” Jackson turned and plucked a copy of the Lantano Valley Times off the roof of the car. “They don’t have all the details yet, but they’re hinting at a major scandal about to hit. Reading between the lines, Alastair’s feeding them the information.”

  “We’re out of time.” Nathan skimmed the front page article. While it didn’t name names, the senior editor may as well have included Jackson
’s in the headline that promised a resolution—and arrest—in the Nemesis case. “Dad, we’ve got to come clean with Morgan and Gage before this gets any worse. They have to be ready—”

  “They’re meeting us at your sister’s in a few hours. They had a meeting with social services.” Nathan swore as his stomach dropped to his toes. “About the adoptions?”

  “Not sure what else it could be. Veronica’s going with them, so that’s probably some good news.” He pulled out his keys and tossed them to Nathan. “You drive. I need to talk to Laurel.”

  ***

  “Let me get this straight.” Sheila paced the expanse of her spacious living room as Malcolm dragged out another two bottles of wine. “Our father is about to be arrested for being a criminal mastermind, the authorities are threatening to freeze all Tremayne assets, including the foundation’s accounts, the senior editor at the Lantano Valley Times has his headlines ready to go, and your solution is to throw a dinner party.”

  “Correct.” Laurel snagged a full glass of wine off the kitchen counter while they waited for Morgan and Gage to arrive. So much for small talk. With the way Sheila stalked the room in her snug jeans and glossy gold tank accentuated by strappy gold sandals, it was all Laurel could do to withstand the gravitational pull of the engagement and wedding band set on Sheila’s manicured hand. “A very public party with a very specific guest list.”

  “A party,” Sheila repeated, looking at Laurel as if she’d lost her mind. “Exactly how is that going to help us? No, wait. Scratch that. Dad? What in the hell is going on? I thought we had a handle on this Manville situation.”

  “We did.” Jackson accepted his own glass and wandered over to the plate glass window that overlooked the lighted city. “There have been some developments.”

  “Obviously. And are you going to share those developments with the rest of us or do we wait and read it in the paper?”

  “Sheila, enough.” Nathan’s quiet command kicked against Laurel’s heart. It was so hard to know what to do, what to say, but as they had decided in the car, telling his sisters the truth about their mother was going to be difficult enough; he didn’t want to have to go through it twice. Leading with their plans for Alastair might help take the sting out things. “Laurel knows what she’s—”

  “Wait, no.” Sheila stopped pacing and glared at Laurel then her brother, her blond hair flying around her shoulders in a Medusa-like flourish. “I’m sorry, this is going to come out rude, but I don’t feel the inclination to self-edit. Why is she the one coming up with a plan? Aren’t you part of the reason this is all happening? You’ve practically been Alastair’s conduit of information for weeks now.”

  “Back off, Sheila,” Nathan snapped. “Laurel knows better than the rest of us what Alastair is capable of. Trust me. She has just as much at stake as we do.”

  “Enlighten me.” Sheila swung on her. “Exactly what do you have at stake in all this? Other than a massive finder’s fee and a ticket to Aruba?”

  “Since when isn’t my word good enough for you?” Nathan demanded

  “Since you started sleeping with the enemy!” Sheila blasted. “We know she’s been working for him for years. Years, Nathan. How can we trust her now of all times?”

  “She’s right.” Laurel lifted her chin and drank down a good portion of her wine before pulling out her phone. Guilt and grief weren’t going to get her anywhere. Only the truth would suffice at this point. “I am responsible for a lot of what’s happening to this family and I’m sorry, Sheila. More than you can ever know. But Nathan’s also right.” She clicked open her photos and held out her hand. “This is what I’m fighting for. My daughter, Joey.”

  Sheila hesitated, then, after picking up the challenge in Laurel’s eyes, moved in and took the phone.

  “Five years ago I made a mistake, one that’s cost me more than you can ever imagine. Everything I’ve done since has been for one reason: to keep her safe. So far I’ve managed it. But now that Alastair knows I’ve switched sides, I’m failing.” She wouldn’t feel whole, wouldn’t feel safe, until she held her daughter in her arms again. “Believe me when I say I am all in on this, Sheila. I want him taken down as much as the rest of you.”

  “He’s threatened her child,” Jackson said, his back to the room. “Whether you understand or not, whether you agree or not, we will be implementing Laurel’s plan.”

  Sheila’s eyes brimmed with tears as she stared down at Joey’s image. “She’s breathtaking.”

  “Yes, she is,” Laurel agreed. “There’s nothing I won’t do for her.” She’d already spent enough time at Alastair Manville’s beck and call. Now that she had an army at her disposal, how could she not fight back?

  The buzzer sounded.

  “That’ll be the takeout,” Malcolm announced from where he sat behind the kitchen counter. It was then Laurel noticed he didn’t look as robust when she’d last seen him a short time ago. His skin was pale, his eyes dull, but nothing seemed to erase that enchanted, albeit frustrated, smile from his face as he looked at his wife. “Or Gage and Morgan. Personally, I’m hoping for the former since we need to get our shit together and present a united front before outing ourselves as Nemesis to your sister.”

  “Tell me you ordered Chinese,” Nathan pleaded as the tension in the room broke and he headed to the door.

  “With this crowd, what else?” Malcolm got up to rummage for plates in the spacious galley kitchen.

  “I’m sorry,” Sheila whispered as Laurel moved in to retrieve her phone. “I had no right—” She blinked and big tears plopped onto her flushed cheeks.

  “You have every right.” How could Laurel be hurt because Sheila had spoken the truth? Obviously Sheila saw Laurel for what—and who—she really was, and while the disappointment struck like a fist to the gut, she certainly couldn’t blame her. “You have a lot to protect, yourself. More than they realize.” She glanced down as Sheila brushed her hand over her flat stomach. “You haven’t told him yet, have you? About the baby.”

  “I can’t.” Sheila let out a long breath. “I’ve tried, but . . .” She shook her head. “He’s had a rough week and with his chemo starting soon, I can’t add to it.”

  “You’re going to have to,” Laurel said. “Or at least talk to his doctor. Depending on his treatment—”

  “I know.” Sheila swiped her fingers under her eyes. “Morgan already told me. Depending on the drugs they use I have to be careful. I’ll tell him. Soon. Laurel.” Sheila grabbed her arm and squeezed. “I am sorry. I know you’ve done a lot for my family, more than you needed to. You didn’t deserve to be attacked.”

  “Yeah, I did.” Laurel nodded. “I’m not innocent in this, Sheila. Because of me Alastair knows more about the Tremaynes than he should. I’m going to do what I can to fix it. But I’m going to need your help.”

  “Ah, my expertise comes in handy once again.” Sheila dipped her head as Nathan returned with his arms filled with take-out bags. “Are you sure your plan can work?”

  Laurel scrunched her mouth. “I still need to fill in some pieces, but yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah, if what I suspect Alastair is really after is true, then yeah. It’ll work.”

  ***

  “Sorry we’re late!” Morgan’s unexpected voice plunged the loft into silence as she and Gage pushed open Sheila’s door and strode inside. “The meeting with the social worker and lawyer went longer than expected.”

  Nathan froze mid kung pao extraction as he stared at his sister. He didn’t see anger, or worry, or anything other than complete happiness radiating off her.

  “Good news?” He managed, not daring to look at Sheila or his father. Had his voice ever sounded so strained? Probably not, given the suspicious look Gage threw his way.

  “That depends.” Morgan hugged her fists to her chest and bounced on her toes. “I’m a mom. Of four!” She squealed. “Veronica called in som
e favors with one of her family court bigwigs and expedited the process. Instead of having to wait until after the wedding, they pushed my application through. Signed, sealed, and delivered. We’ll repeat the process for Gage once we’re married. They’re mine.”

  Laurel walked up behind him and pinched his arm. He jumped. “That’s great news.” He dived around the counter and wrapped his baby sister in a hug. “Four kids in one fell swoop. You always were an overachiever.”

  “This calls for champagne,” Malcolm announced as Sheila and Jackson joined the congratulatory hugs and celebration.

  “Wait, four?” Nathan frowned. “I thought Drew said he didn’t want to be adopted.”

  “He didn’t,” Gage said, returning Jackson’s hearty handshake. “Until someone gave him a talking-to at Lydia’s party. Something about grabbing hold of a family when it found you.” He angled a look at Laurel, who was licking hot mustard off her thumb.

  “What?” She shrugged, a little unsettled Drew hadn’t kept that conversation between the two of them. “It was the truth.”

  Nathan’s heart swelled. “That’s why I love her,” he whispered to his father.

  “You.” Morgan pushed through her family and stalked over to Laurel, arms outstretched in a way that had Laurel’s eyes widening in fear. “You are the best thing that’s happened to us since this lug.” She elbowed Malcolm out of the way and embraced Laurel. “Thank you for my kids.”

  “My talk with Drew was necessary. I was hiding from Theresa.” Laurel laughed, tears stinging her eyes.

  “Do not give that mother of mine any more credit for anything,” Gage ordered. “That’s all we need.”

  “At least now she’ll back off her demand for grandchildren,” Sheila laughed.

  “Have you met my mother?” Gage asked. “This is only going to whet her appetite.”