Fame, Fortune & Secrets (The Redemption Series: Book 2)

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Fame, Fortune & Secrets (The Redemption Series: Book 2) Page 3

by Maeve Christopher


  Cat’s deep blues eyes were somewhere far away, as they often were. “I had the same dream almost every night. I was walking through the jungle. It was so hot, so humid, suffocating. All I could see was the jungle and the men’s boots—trudging along. It started to close in on me—the trees, the brush, and then I looked up to find the most beautiful rainbow. I heard gunfire and an explosion. All I could see was brown water rushing up around me. I felt myself drowning. I couldn’t breathe, and then I woke up.”

  David felt himself reliving the experience in South America. He could almost feel his cousin drawing thoughts and emotions from his body.

  “I’m sorry, Cat. Did you tell anyone?”

  “I did not. What good would that have done? Everyone was already worried about you and Eduardo.” She resumed her seat and motioned David to sit on the sofa across from her.

  He sat and stared at the floor. Where to begin? “I need to apologize for embarrassing you and our family.”

  “You know we love you, no matter what.”

  “Debbie said something about a lamp and a stand.” He looked up and noticed the tears on his cousin’s face.

  “There are consequences to sin, David. God has forgiven you, and you’re beginning a wonderful new life with Debbie. Focus on trusting God through this.”

  “Through what?” He coughed. Through this latest shit he’d be putting his wife and family through—supposedly the consequences of sin. When would it end?

  “You wanted to know the connection between the man who betrayed you and the man who attacked you.”

  David wheezed and fell into a coughing fit. How did she know these things? He’d mocked her for so long, laughing at Eduardo when he’d called her “Cat the Prayer Warrior.”

  She stood before him, her hands on his shoulders, and prayed aloud for his healing. He felt a comforting warmth flow through him, and the coughing stopped.

  He covered her hands with his. “You prayed Debbie into my life, didn’t you?”

  “I’ve prayed for your health and happiness, and for your salvation, for as long as I can remember. While you were out at your shooting range, I’d muck the stalls and pray.”

  “I do remember you told me I can’t outshoot God.” He smirked.

  She returned his grin. “That’s true. And now you know the Precious Blood protects you. And Debbie.”

  “But these consequences of sin you’re telling me about—”

  “The two dark-haired women know the man who betrayed you. And I saw one of them on the television today. She is now dead. So it seems there are some terrible things happening. That man is connected to the man who attacked you and Debbie in Carmel—the one you killed. That man is also the one who is responsible for all those men dying in the jungle, for your bullet wounds, and the infection in your lungs, and for the attempts on your life and Eduardo’s since you arrived here in California. That man is also responsible for the attempts on your family’s lives, the attack on Cindy and Glori, and the murder of their friend. But he does not act alone.”

  “Who?”

  “I believe your suspicions are correct. In any case, the dark-haired woman knows him. And I know you know her.” Cat blushed.

  He drew in a breath. “It’s Darla you’re talking about. Where is she?”

  Her eyes clouded. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  Anger rose up, and he swallowed it. “Cat, I need to know everything. You know how important it is that we get this guy. Please.”

  She thoughtfully wiped her eyes, sat on the couch beside him, and took his hand. “She’s hiding in a dingy motel in Las Vegas. She’s a very glamorous young woman, I think. But she is drinking heavily. She’s afraid you’re going to kill her. Are you?”

  David averted his eyes. “Do you know anything more about her location?”

  “Promise me you will not kill her.”

  He kissed Cat’s cheek and got up to leave. “You get some rest now.”

  “David. David!” Cat was insistent. “Promise me you will not kill her.”

  He turned to face her. “I can’t promise you that.”

  ***

  Exhausted from the day, David regretted agreeing to go to the Bainbridges’ home for dinner. At least the entire family would be present, and he could deal with the nightmare of facing everyone all at once. He and Debbie arrived as Cindy’s mother, Dottie Bainbridge, was about to call about holding dinner.

  His stomach churned as they came through the doorway into the parlor, and he looked down into George Aldridge’s glowering face. He shielded Debbie’s body with his. “George, I want to apologize again—”

  George wagged his finger at him and shouted, “You remember, young man, what I told you before you married my daughter? Let me refresh your memory. I said—if you ever—if you ever—hurt my little girl—I’ll kill you myself! You watch your step!”

  David took a step toward his father-in-law, who quickly retreated. “George, you can say whatever you want to me, but Debbie doesn’t need to hear this. I won’t have you upsetting her—”

  Whirling back on his heel, George punched the air. “You’ll burn in hell for this, Lambrecht!” George strode out of the parlor to the patio and hacked his way through the garden to his own residence next door.

  Wringing her hands, Debbie’s mother, Marion, silently watched her husband stomp away, until he was no longer visible. She turned to face her daughter and son-in-law, speechless.

  ***

  Dinner conversation in the Bainbridge dining room was subdued. Quietly David encouraged his wife to eat. He noticed she sliced her food into tiny shreds and pushed them around her plate. She hid slices of meat under her vegetables, playing a strange sort of shell game. She tested the consistency of the vegetables and rice with her fork, then mixed them on her plate as though she was mixing her paints. For one so busy, not a morsel went into her mouth. At last, she excused herself to go to the restroom.

  By the time dinner was finished, Amanda James’ show was starting. The room was quiet as Amanda narrated much of the story with video of her speaking with General Pearson. Unbeknownst to David, Pearson had included footage of him receiving a medal bestowed by the Queen. The couple’s interview began with questions to Debbie. Her friends laughed affectionately at some of her responses.

  The program over, it seemed Debbie’s arm was numb from his grip. He watched her rub the redness away as heaviness and congestion filled his chest. He wheezed into his wife’s ear. “I’m so sorry to put you through all this, Sweetheart.”

  She snuggled into his side. “I know David. I love you.”

  Joe Harris spoke up. “I think it was great—just what we wanted. It built him up as a hero, which he is, by the way. It didn’t put Sylvie Mason down. And the star of the show—well that’s gotta be Debbie. You did a phenomenal job, honey.”

  Debbie looked over at him with a shy smile.

  Joe’s cell phone rang. He praised the General’s good instincts in dealing with this delicate public relations issue.

  ***

  Back in their suite at the Ross Hotel, they collapsed into their bed. It was 3:00 AM when David rolled over and noticed his wife was not there. A dim light shone from the small sitting room. He got up, pulled on sweatpants, and found her at her easel. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at the canvas. A coughing fit began before he could utter a word.

  Debbie rose up and hugged him, then ran for a glass of water. They sat on a loveseat in front of her painting as he recuperated.

  He purposefully spoke in a calm voice. “What are you painting, Sweetheart?”

  She shrugged. “I was having weird dreams, and I didn’t want to wake you. I decided I needed to paint. I’m not so sure why this is coming out.” She shuddered. “I hope nothing bad is happening in this painting, David. Is there?”

  “I don’t know.” He was pretty sure that was a lie. This was most certainly the motel room in Las Vegas where he’d find Darla Wilde.

  He pointed to
the window of the motel room, the only lovely thing about the painting. An almost heavenly light shone through the window. “There’s a sign outside the window, Sweetheart. What does it say?”

  “I’m not sure. I think it’s a used car lot.” She chewed her lip.

  He drew her closer and kissed her. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  She giggled. “Are you going to inspire me again, David?”

  “Absolutely.”

  ***

  They met the rest of the family in the common area for breakfast. Cindy arrived to spend the day with Debbie, while everyone else would be at the studio. She chatted with Debbie as though nothing had happened the day before. At that point David knew enough to see it was her strategy to ensure Debbie would eat something. He was grateful that his wife had such a remarkable friend. It was obvious Cindy loved Debbie as a sister.

  Eduardo took him aside. “How’d it go with Cat? She was awful quiet at the Bainbridges’ last night. And this morning she looks exhausted. Cisco’s ready to can the whole concert thing and take her home to Salzburg. But she refuses to let Paulo down.”

  David frowned. “I’m worried about her, but I don’t know what to do for her. She knows everything—including things she’s not telling me, I’m sure. The four of us need to sit down and sort everything out without Pearson. He’s going to have our heads unless we can prove all this shit.”

  Eduardo let out a heavy breath. “Yeah. Let’s get going.”

  They said their good-byes to the family, and David headed back to their suite with Debbie and Eduardo. They stopped short at the open door. Cat stood at the easel, her fingers planted on a half empty wine bottle Debbie had painted on the nightstand of the motel room.

  “Cat?” David approached her. She seemed to be deep in contemplation. “Are you okay?”

  She turned to him with despair in her eyes, and tapped her finger on the wine bottle. “It’s Anderson’s Auto Body. And you must promise me.”

  He advanced to the easel to get a closer look, and he caught Cat as she dropped to the floor.

  ***

  Jimmy poured the coffee and shot three mugs around the conference table to his weary colleagues. He took one for himself, sat in his seat, and grinned at his cup.

  “Yeah, Hollinger, Joe Harris said you were out with Aubrey last night. How’d you forget to tell us that little fact? A date with the world’s hottest pop star, and you forget to mention it? So what’s goin’ on?” Eduardo was the nosiest of the group, when it came to personal affairs.

  Jimmy rolled his eyes. “It’s not any big deal, Clemente. It was just dinner. She’s got so many assistants, not to mention the paparazzi following her around constantly. It’s not like I can get two minutes alone with her.”

  Eduardo smirked. “Yeah. I got a feelin’ you’ll manage. She makes more money in a week than you would in a lifetime.”

  Jimmy leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Yeah Clemente, there’s more to life than money.”

  Eduardo made a face at Alain, and the two shared a hearty laugh. Eduardo raised his mug in a toast. “To the dirt poor kid from the Texas dustbowl.”

  Jimmy raised his mug. “Don’t mess with Texas.” After a quick gulp, he became serious. “You awake yet, David?”

  David appreciated his friends’ kindness. He knew his lapse of concentration was obvious. He tried to cough away the heaviness in his chest. Eduardo got him a glass of water.

  David was back on his boat again, holding Debbie’s paintings—the paintings that had changed his life. He wondered how many more times his mind would be forced back to that boat. He could trust God, like he’d promised Cat and Debbie. But that was risky. Risky for him—he could well lose his job, and potentially lose his life. Risky for Cat—if he were to expose her incredible talents, she could be in life-threatening danger. And risky for Debbie and his entire family, just because they were associated with him. He supposed he was out of his mind.

  “‘A man betrays you. A man attacks you, but God sends his angels to protect you.’” David wiped his face with his sleeve. “That’s what Cat told me. I know I sound crazy, but I think she might be able to help us.”

  Eduardo had fright on his face. “David—”

  David put up his hand. “Let me explain so we’re all on the same page. Cat had a premonition when I was in the ICU—that time the food was poisoned, and someone tried to kill me by messing up all the oxygen and drugs. That’s probably what she meant about ‘a man betrays you.’ But ‘the man’ was never found, and is still betraying us. Like ordering the shooting that night Eduardo and Nita were in L.A. According to Santoro, Colonel Johnson was the one that paid his guy to do the job. So that would make Johnson ‘the man who betrays you.” He took a quick gulp of his water.

  David saw his colleagues were still with him. “And how did Z know where I was in Carmel? Cat linked the man betraying and the man attacking in the same thought. And she told me again yesterday that Colonel Johnson is connected to Z somehow. It was Johnson that had Alain assigned to track down Z in the Middle East. Johnson was in charge there.” David turned to Alain. “Why would he send you on a wild goose chase? Assuming he was somehow involved with Z, he’d have known Z wasn’t there.”

  Alain shook his head. “Personally, I believe Colonel Johnson wants me dead, too. Glori told me Johnson actually told her I’d be coming home in a body bag. Obviously, Johnson thought Z would do me in. But if he knew Z would be here in California—hmm. I suppose that remark would cover his involvement with Z.”

  “So you think Johnson sent Z to get you and Debbie in Carmel?” Eduardo asked.

  “I think it’s likely. I just don’t know why. Especially since Johnson was so jazzed when he found out I got Z. He was smiling with every tooth in his head. He didn’t look like a guy that wanted me dead,” David said.

  Eduardo rubbed the back of his head, forming spikes of black hair. “Sounds like he wanted Z dead. So why would he send Z to Carmel so you could kill him? Why would he double cross Z?”

  “The only thing I can think to do is take a closer look at Senator Everett and his staff. We know he was messing around in South American governments. We know he made fortunes from the drug trade. We know he was selling Israeli secrets. We know that Everett would have had contact with Johnson. I have no idea if Everett ever heard of Z. But Z’s goal was to get rid of Israel.” David fell into silent thought.

  Jimmy broke the silence. “I admit I never liked Colonel Johnson. I already know the guy’s an SOB. I’ve hated his guts from day one. I’m with you, David. I’ve spent a fair amount of time in Washington as well as the Middle East, so I’ll take a look into it and see what I can dig up. And Cat did give a little demo of her prayer skills, so I know what you’re talking about. Any way she can help would be great. It doesn’t have to go any farther than the four of us.”

  “Agreed,” Alain said.

  David and Eduardo exchanged a sigh of relief.

  “Okay. I have a lead from Cat. Darla Wilde is in Las Vegas. I’m heading out to track her down. I expect she’ll confirm that Johnson is the traitor here. You can tell Pearson I’m taking some sick time.” David rose from his seat.

  “Yeah, don’t have too much fun,” Jimmy winked.

  Chapter Four

  David

  David took a brief moment to prepare himself to walk into Debbie’s painting. He’d found the decrepit motel located next door to Anderson’s Auto Body, as Cat had said. As he came through the door, Darla Wilde was almost out the back window of the dingy room. He grabbed her and tossed her onto the bed. Deep brown hair fell listlessly around her once-beautiful and self-assured face.

  He pulled a rickety wooden chair to the side of the bed and sat down. Her dark eyes stared into his. Fear was building. That was good.

  She reached for the half empty wine bottle by her bed and poured a generous amount into a well-used glass. He took out a photo and silently held it in front of her, waiting for a response.

  “He showed
up a while after you left. He told us you were dead, and we’d be working for him now.”

  “What did you do for him?” David put the photo back in his pocket.

  She took a swig of the wine. “Not much. I thought he wanted to take over as much of the business as he could—wanted to pit Santoro against some guy from New York. Eduardo Soares. He told me to let Santoro know this guy was in town—had him shoot the guy for him. Then he showed us your picture with Santoro and the cops. Said you’re a cop. He made Sylvie give her story to that paper.”

  She drank some more. “She really loved you, you know.”

  He did not respond.

  Fear gripped her entire body now. Wine swirled in her shaking hand. “Well she never would have done that unless he forced her. Then he murdered her. I left before he could do the same to me.”

  “What else did you do for him?” He could see pain overtaking the fear on her face.

  “Nothing. Just did whatever he wanted. He’s a mean bastard.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I have no idea.” She took a long gulp of wine and began to unbutton her shirt. “You know I won’t ever tell anyone anything. You know I’m smarter than that.”

  “I know. You’re the one with the brain.”

  Her anger got the better of her. “And Sylvie was the one with the heart. Look where that got her.” She ripped at her blouse. He took her by the arm to stop her.

  “What else did this guy want to know about my business?”

  She pulled her arm away. “I don’t know how he knew, but he knew you killed the Senator and all the bodyguards. He wanted me to tell the newspapers how you killed them. But I wouldn’t tell. You know I wouldn’t ever tell.”

 

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