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

by Maeve Christopher

  Grammy’s face filled my mind, shielding me from the impact of hearing—again—how precarious David’s life could be. And reminding me there was something more I needed to say.

  “David, I need to tell you—about the time I was in heaven with Grammy. She told me I needed to come back here because I have work to do. She said souls are at stake. Do you think this is what she meant? That my painting would be important to saving some souls?”

  The soft brown of my husband’s eyes shone brighter. It was that softness I’d only seen when we were alone together. And it thrilled me every time.

  He whispered, “Your painting was and is important to this soul. I’d say I was one of the souls at stake.” He kissed me. “Now was there anything else Grammy had to say, or am I going to get bits and pieces over the next fifty years?”

  Giggles came welling out from deep inside me. “That’s all she said, David.”

  “You’re sure now?”

  I thought back to my experience in heaven. “The only other thing Grammy said was that Cat the Prayer Warrior would help me. That turned out to be our Cat.”

  “Hmm. Cat the Prayer Warrior. And that’s why you asked the minister about her.”

  “Yes, and I bet that’s why you came over to me in the hospital. You overheard me talking to Pastor Evans,” I said.

  “I did. And it shocked me. I had to speak to you.”

  “See how much God loves you, David? Grammy was right about that, too.”

  “It’s all pretty incredible. ‘Cat the Prayer Warrior’ is a term they used in heaven. It used to be the way Eduardo and I teased my cousin Cat. Then it was the term that compelled me to meet you. And then God used your painting of that camp scene to save me?” David had a weird look on his face.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s too much to comprehend. Why would God care so much about me? Why would He go to such lengths for me?”

  “L-O-V-E, David. It’s all about love.” I kissed him.

  David tossed me over his shoulder and took me back to bed.

  ***

  The next morning at breakfast, everyone was in a good mood. I wasn’t so sure I understood everything, but Eduardo’s father was talking about Cisco working day and night on currency trading. It sounded like it was going well, and that’s why he wasn’t at breakfast.

  Raphael was heading back to San Diego for more business meetings. It sounded like his construction company was doing great. He’d be working on plans for a new resort for one of his clients. I hoped it would keep him in California for a long time, so he and Cindy would have more time together. I knew they were made for each other.

  Cat and Paulo were laughing with Nita about some lyrics Eduardo came up with. They looked rested and relaxed for the first time in a long time.

  David had his arm on the back of my chair, taking it all in, waiting patiently for me to finish my meal. I wished he could take more time off—to heal and to spend more time with me. But he had to get to work again, and I got a little worried, remembering their return from the Sara Blackington mission.

  “So does Mr. Cookie fly those helicopters in curlicues like that all the time?” I asked.

  David grinned. “Only when he’s sober.”

  Eduardo and Raphael were the only ones who thought that was funny.

  Chapter Eight

  Debbie

  Agent Washington accompanied Cindy, Glori and me to Glori’s rehearsal for the concert. After an hour or so I got a little bored, so I wandered around the studio. When I came upon Doug Bainbridge’s office and heard voices, I stopped to eavesdrop.

  Joe Harris complained loudly to Doug. “These guys never put on a concert in their lives, and they’re taking it out of my hide. They must have every blue print, every fact and statistic on this damn stadium.”

  I smelled cigar smoke wafting from the office. I guess Joe did actually smoke those things once in a while.

  Doug said, “Joe, it’s just as well this way. They’re a heck of a lot smarter than any security guys we ever used before, and if anything goes wrong, they only have themselves to blame. There’s nothing wrong with having too much security. And you know as well as I do that they’re almost as much a draw as the band. You don’t really care why people are buying tickets, do you?”

  Joe said, “You know damn well these kids are the best we’ve ever worked with. The music Paulo comes up with—” He coughed out a laugh. “Well you know he can write a song, just as he sits there havin’ breakfast—these tunes just float through his head. You told me the first week you knew him he’d be a legend. And me—yeah—I don’t care why people buy tickets, as long as there’s a big check waiting for me. But these people, well, they kinda grew on me. Even Camellia! That is when she’s not complaining about lyrics that are too explicit or lamenting the loss of family leisure time. Heck—even she has an endearing way with this Catholic guilt stuff.”

  Doug laughed out loud. “Yeah, and speaking of guilt, did you hear that press conference Andy Blackington did this morning? David’s just not going to get away from that Sylvie Mason story.”

  I leaned in closer to the door, and listened to Joe’s whooping.

  “Yeah, I loved it. Andy says, ‘He saved my daughter’s life. He’s a hero plain and simple, and I’ll be eternally grateful to him. I don’t care what he does in his personal life. Truth be told,’ he says, ‘most guys would’ve done the very same thing if they could.’”

  Joe laughed so hard he choked. He coughed, cleared his throat, and kept going. “Yeah, he was right. Every guy in the world is wishin’ he had the same chance. And I bet he’s got more than a few women fantasizing, too. And meanwhile this concert is their first real show, and we have deals to televise it all around the globe. This is a rocket ship, Doug, and we’re in for one hell of a ride. So I say, let’s keep these little mysteries and scandals going.”

  I gripped my stomach to try and get rid of queasiness.

  Joe’s assistant, Emily, came flying around the corner. She headed for me, and grabbed my arm. “Are you okay?” She looked like she had a few other things on her mind.

  “I—I’m fine.”

  Joe stood in the doorway. “What’s the matter, Em?”

  She turned as pale as me. “Joe, I think we have a problem.” She removed her glasses and wiped her brow.

  “You mean another one?” Joe coughed a smile.

  Doug appeared in the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

  “Well—Mr.—uh—Agent—Alain. You know, the big muscular martial arts guy?”

  “Yeah?” Joe was getting impatient.

  “I guess he got jealous of the guy that’s dancing with Glori. You know—they’re working on the choreography? Anyway, he walked up to them in rehearsal and—well he threw him out of the way and grabbed her by the arm. Anyway, he took her out of here. I think she was crying. I know she was upset. She was talking so fast I couldn’t understand what she was saying. I thought you should know.”

  Joe and Doug went to investigate. I went to the bathroom.

  Glori

  I cursed the mascara running down my cheeks. “Where in hell are you taking me, Alain?” I used my sleeve to wipe my face.

  “Home.” He didn’t take those sullen eyes off the road.

  “And where the heck is home anyway?”

  He glanced at me with a surprised look. “Our apartment.”

  I flew into a rage. “Our apartment? Oh yeah! Our apartment. I never heard that one before. I have half my stuff at Cindy’s, the rest at my mother’s house, and some day-to-day stuff at your place. And until now, I had no idea home was your apartment.”

  The car screeched into the garage, he parked, and turned to face me. He spoke calmly. “Why are you saying that?”

  “Why? Why wouldn’t I say it? You never asked me to live with you. I just kind of stayed over one night, and then the next, and the next. And you’re moving to Salzburg in a couple weeks, and did you ever say anything to me about going with you?” I found a tis
sue to blow my nose.

  “Of course you’re going with me. You told me you’d be going to be part of the band. You said Paulo has a studio at their house, and you’d record there.”

  My mouth dropped open. “And when were you going to suggest the two of us find a place together in Salzburg? After I told Debbie I’d stay with them a while?”

  For once I could read confusion on his face.

  “I’m sorry, Glori. I thought it was all settled. David told me he was relieved we would stay with them. He was happy you’d be around to be with Debbie, and the three of us could drive together to work every day. I know it’s not an ideal situation—staying with them. But until we can find out what works best for both of us—I mean you need to be near Paulo to record, and I’m going to be in Salzburg every day. We need to live there a while to figure out what is best. Staying with them gives us a chance to do that, and it helps Debbie and David, too.”

  “Unbelievable.” I rolled my eyes. “This secret agent crap has gone too far. I don’t know anything about us—our relationship. Are we just screwing around? Are we serious? Far be it for me to say. So here I am—trying to stay detached—go with the flow—stay cool. Got this real nice diamond necklace for my birthday—he must care about me. So I’ll just go along. He’s bound to say something. After all, he’s movin’ halfway around the world to this new job. And I’m just mindin’ my own business, workin’ on this dance routine for the concert, and bam! Like I was a big cheater or something. I get hauled out of there. I’m not your wife. I don’t even know if you’re serious about me. And you decide the guy’s dancing too close.”

  I fought back a new flood of tears. “Ya know, Alain, I’m not the greatest singer in the world. I just happened to get a break for once in my life. And I have a real chance to be part of this band. Something really big. But they’re not gonna put up with me for one second, pulling crap like that before a huge concert. They can find a million other pretty girls that can dance and sure as hell sing a whole lot better than me.” I blew my nose with a tissue black from my runny mascara. That’d look good.

  “Glori—honey—I’m sorry,” Alain said.

  My mind swirled. “Okay.” I wanted him to profess his undying love and carry me upstairs. I wanted to stay in his arms forever.

  “Alain, can you just get me back to rehearsal? Now?”

  Eduardo

  Friday afternoon Eduardo arrived at the office to find his colleagues examining financial statements. He was greeted with cheers.

  “Yeah, Cisco had a pretty good week. He says he traded the U.S. dollar and Japanese yen ‘to great advantage.’ My big brother—financial genius and currency trader extraordinaire.”

  David smirked. “I imagine he has quite a few ecstatic clients at this point.”

  Jimmy waved his statement. “Yeah, and I’m one of ‘em. Look at this!” He shoved the paper in Eduardo’s face. Then he grabbed the statements from Alain’s hand, and David’s desk. “And look at this. We’re rich!”

  For once Jimmy allowed himself to be caught up in Eduardo’s bear hug, while the others laughed and goaded him.

  When they finally settled down, Jimmy came to rest in his chair, his feet on an old box. “So who else made money on this deal with Cisco?”

  “Everyone in the family from my grandfather on down. Everyone put a fair amount of money with Cisco. And Cisco himself, between his own money and commissions ended up with thirty million.” He paused as his friends fathomed the words. He nodded at David. “Even George had given him some money for aggressive investments, and he called Cisco to tell him how thrilled he is. He ended up with millions too. But the big winner—”

  “Raphael, of course,” David said. “Let me guess. It’s got to be a good fifty million.”

  Eduardo grinned. “One hundred million dollars.”

  There was stunned silence from his colleagues.

  At last David recovered. “That’s unbelievable. What is he going to do? I can’t imagine he’d want to keep working for Roberto.”

  “Apparently he intends to cut way back!” Eduardo laughed. “Actually, he did call me, and he said he’s still planning on working, but in more of a consulting and recruiting capacity.”

  Jimmy shook his head. “Man! If I had a hundred million I wouldn’t be consulting and recruiting business clients.”

  Alain winked. “He’d be consulting and recruiting women.”

  ***

  Eduardo took Raphael’s call on the drive back to the Ross Hotel that afternoon. “Yeah, David’s here with me. Are you gonna make it back in time for dinner at the Bainbridges’? We got a lot of celebrating to do…. Yeah, you most of all…. Huh?”

  “What?” David asked.

  Eduardo was momentarily shocked quiet.

  “What?”

  Eduardo snapped out of it. “Well congratulations! Again!”

  “What?”

  “Hold on, David’s here, and he says congratulations, and he’s as nosy as an old lady.” Eduardo turned his attention from the steering wheel and the phone to face David. “Raphael asked Cindy to marry him, and she said yes.”

  “What?”

  Eduardo rolled his eyes and returned to Raphael. “Of course she said yes. So when did you tell her about the money?”

  He knew it was pushy on his part, but he didn’t want his cousin hurt. Not that Cindy was capable of hurting anyone. She seemed to be completely in love with Raphael, and she’d demonstrated the type of person she was when it came to taking care of Debbie, and Glori for that matter.

  He hung up the phone satisfied and turned to David. “Must be something in the water around here. You meet Debbie and propose five minutes later. Raphael took his sweet time, I guess. I mean he’s known her—what—five months?”

  “Well, we know she’s not after his money,” David said.

  David

  Upon his return to the Ross Hotel, David knew Debbie had spoken to Cindy. She was practically bursting at the seams, but refused to share her secret. He was amused. And pleased that his wife could be trusted to keep confidences.

  Then he noticed her easel.

  Debbie was dressed for the evening, and he sent her down the hall to gather everyone for the trip to the Bainbridge mansion. Then he summoned Eduardo.

  They both stared at the painting, perplexed.

  “So what’s goin’ on? I’ve been trying to ignore these paintings of hers for a while now. But it doesn’t look like we can afford to. It’s like Cat all over again—but with a paint brush,” Eduardo said.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but look at the muffler on the car. That’s not just exhaust.”

  “Nope. That’s a bomb. That’s what that is.” Eduardo stood back to take another look. “It looks like Madrid. I’m almost positive it’s Madrid.”

  “That’s my guess. But I have no idea where.”

  “Shit.” Eduardo had nothing.

  “Let’s pack this up and bring it tonight. Raphael might know.”

  “Yeah. And I’ll check the cars before we leave. Just in case.” Eduardo turned on his heel and left.

  ***

  Cisco was well aware that Raphael had proposed to Cindy, so he quickly took the focus off himself after all the excitement and congratulations on his accomplishment. He stood at the dinner table and offered a toast to Raphael. “I know Raphael is the happiest man at the table this evening, and with good reason. So I’ll turn this over to you now. Tell us why.”

  Raphael stood and lifted his glass in Cindy’s direction with a wide smile. “Cindy has agreed to be my wife, and I can’t wait to marry the most wonderful woman in the world.”

  There were gasps and applause all around the table, and tears on Cindy’s beaming face. Debbie jumped up to hug her, even before Raphael could let go.

  ***

  Eduardo lured Raphael and Cisco from the party into an isolated parlor with David, Alain, and Jimmy inspecting a painting propped on a chair.

  “What’s going on?�
� Raphael asked.

  “We need your help. Do either of you recognize this building?” David pointed to a stately home at the top of an ornate staircase.

  Raphael and Cisco exchanged glances and answered at once. “Sir Edward Wickersham’s Madrid residence.”

  “And who’s Sir Edward Wickersham?” Eduardo asked.

  Raphael stepped over to the painting and pointed to the strange exhaust from the car parked out front. “He’s one of Papa’s business associates and a friend, and a client of Cisco’s.”

  “What’s going on with the car?” Concern was all over Cisco’s face.

  “Nothing good,” Eduardo said.

  Glori

  “So how did this happen, Cin?” I needed details. It was the day after their dinner party engagement announcement, and I still didn’t have all the information.

  Debbie sat arranging flowers from the Bainbridge garden in a crystal vase, ignoring the freshly baked blueberry muffin Cin was trying to sell her. Cindy and I sipped coffee and nibbled at the muffins. They were delicious, but probably a million calories. The patio was still gorgeous and thick with the scent of all those flowers everywhere.

  Cin was all smiles. “I was sitting on the terrace overlooking blue ocean, blue sky—it’s a spectacular location—Gortazar’s resort. I was just hanging out listening to Raphael making business calls inside. One call was in French, another in German or Spanish—or some language I had no idea. I could occasionally pick out phrases of what he was saying, but mostly I let my mind wander over the past few months.”