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

by Maeve Christopher

  But I’ve got to say, it was Paulo himself who stole the show. He just never stopped out there. It was so obvious he was having the time of his life. He’s only sixteen, but what an incredible musician. It seemed he played every instrument during the course of the evening. And his voice! Just leaves you wanting more. But I think it’s the passion he has for the music that truly captivates his audience. You can tell he’s shy and sweet. But he gets lost in his music, and all I can say is wow! For me, and I think for most of the crowd, his performance of his number one hit, Divine Intervention, was the highlight of the concert. I just melted.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Paulo’s hemophilia would turn out to be a problem during or after the concert. After all, it’s a serious disease that can be fatal if he starts bleeding. Joe Harris, his manager, assured me Paulo gets the very best medical care, and his medication keeps everything under control.

  Back to the concert—it was not only extremely well planned and performed, it was just plain fun. These kids are phenomenally talented, but so down to earth. They have an incredible rapport with their audience, and a way of showing they’re having a great time that’s contagious. Definitely the concert of the year, in my opinion.

  Look for complete coverage in Gossamer Magazine, on newsstands this week. We’ve got the scoop on the concert, and some special photos of the band and their family as Amanda James interviewed them. And you’ll read about the upcoming double wedding for Nita and Eduardo, and Cat and Cisco. All the latest on Aubrey and Jimmy, too.”

  Eduardo

  Monday morning the men were back in the conference room, dousing their exhaustion with coffee. The concert had been a success musically and security-wise as well. But there was no rest for the weary.

  Pearson brought his own pot of coffee, and he looked as though he needed it. “I can’t understand this. This is totally out of the realm of possibility. He’s been not just a—a coworker, but a personal friend for over thirty years. There’s got to be another explanation.”

  None of them offered another explanation. They were too tired to debate the merits of the evidence. Pearson never expected that training video fiasco would be connected to far worse crimes. The thought that his best friend and colleague could be involved was unthinkable. No one wanted to deal with the General’s skepticism at this point.

  It must have been the coffee that snapped him awake. “Men, while you were out dealing with the concert, we’ve made further progress on the case. Unfortunately, you’ve been right all along. Colonel Johnson seems to be up to his eyeballs in trouble. And he’s nowhere to be found. Just disappeared.”

  Pearson sounded as though he were trying to convince himself—more than anyone else—that his best friend could be a traitor.

  “You remember Victor Martinez—the top drug dealer in New York. Clemente brought him in a week or so before the sixteen left for South America. And when Clemente and Dusseault went to New York last week, you got him to open his mouth. He claimed Colonel Johnson made an arrangement with Juan Rodriguez. Johnson apparently decided he wanted to make some big money, and he didn’t care who he killed to do it. So he basically turned you guys over to Rodriguez. Yeah. Lambrecht got Rodriguez. But his men got the lot of you that day. Fourteen good men—for a pile of drug money.” Pearson swigged more coffee.

  There was silence until Pearson continued. “Martinez knew Rodriguez had the Colonel in his pocket. He wasn’t in a position to know the details of the setup. But that guy—Julio—whatever his name was—he told you about. Our agents just got him in New Orleans. He knew everything. Anyway, it’s true. You men were right all along. I can’t believe—a man like Jerry Lee Johnson, a man I knew for thirty years—an outstanding soldier—how did it come to this?” The General rubbed his eyes, rose from his seat, and left the conference room.

  David broke the silence. “There’s more to it. Gilbert was on that trip because Johnson wanted him dead. Why?” He looked at Eduardo. “Then he made a point of going after us. Why? It’s got to do with that connection to Z. We’ve got to figure out the Colonel’s connection to Z.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Glori

  With the concert behind us, there was nothing left to do but pack for Salzburg. Since I had a mess in three different places, I knew I had to hustle. Alain was a gem and offered to help me. After a nice dinner out, we went to my mom’s house.

  Mom was in Hawaii with her latest boy-toy, and the house was almost empty. Scary empty—except for my old bedroom. That was crammed with old clothes and everything else I dumped there over the course of my life in the last ten-plus years. I used the place only for storage. That’s all that house was good for—storage and bad memories.

  But now my dad wanted to rent it—now that I was all grown up and my mom spent most of her time elsewhere.

  Alain sifted through junk and moved boxes for me. I sorted through tons of clothes, and we packed most of them in boxes for charity. He was patient with me. I don’t know why. I wouldn’t have been.

  Then I dropped a heavy box, and it burst open. Old photographs flew around the room and poured onto the floor. I sat in the pile and looked at old baby pictures. “I was adorable, huh?”

  Alain winked at me. He had a sexy French wink. And I so wanted to get out of there and go “home” to bed. But he found a sturdier box and began to load it with the photos.

  As I skimmed the pile, my hand froze. “Huh. Look what I found. Old Colonel Jerry Lee Jerko. I didn’t know he knew Senator Everett.”

  Alain leaned over and took the picture. “Hmm.”

  I pointed. “That’s my friend Tamara—and my friend Kendra that got murdered. Wow. That had to have been taken a couple years ago now. And that’s Senator Everett—Tamara’s dad that got murdered with his bodyguards. And her mom. They were in Rome. Probably some trip the government paid for. They were always going somewhere. Maybe ol’ Jerry Lee Jerko was doing their security work or something.”

  “Maybe,” Alain said.

  Then I saw an old photo of me with Cindy the day I did my first modeling job. I told Alain the highlights of that story. But at that point, he seemed mostly interested in boxing up the photos and getting out of there.

  I couldn’t blame him. I got kind of a sick feeling looking at those old modeling pictures. Maybe moving to Salzburg could be a good thing.

  David

  David checked Debbie’s easel routinely now. Today she was painting a lovely scene of the beach in Carmel. He smiled and kissed her as he headed off to work. Thankfully, he took with him a happy memory of their time on the beach in Carmel

  ***

  He came through the door of the conference room with Eduardo. Jimmy and Alain sorted through a pile of photos covering the table. Eduardo gazed at the single picture set on the table in front of Pearson’s empty seat. His jaw dropped open.

  “What? Where’d you get this?”

  David looked over his shoulder, and he couldn’t believe it.

  Alain’s smile was bigger than he’d ever seen. “We found that with all these old photos from Glori. It’s the key we need.”

  “Yeah. The only thing better’d be Johnson sittin’ here in front of us spilling his guts,” Jimmy said.

  Pearson stood in the doorway. “Good news, gentlemen? Or are you entering a scrapbooking contest? Jimmy, I’d say you’re managing to re-create your office in here. And I’m not thrilled about that.” A sweep of the General’s hand sent pictures flying around the conference room.

  “Yes, Sir.” Jimmy smiled unabashedly at the General. “We do have some good news, Sir. Dusseault got this old photo from Glori Coulson.”

  Eduardo handed him the picture.

  “Wow.” Pearson sunk into his chair.

  Alain said, “Sir, you see Senator Everett in the foreground with his wife and daughter. Beside his daughter—Kendra Cole—Glori’s friend who was murdered.”

  “And the background is even more interesting.” Pearson never took his eyes off the photo. “Co
lonel Johnson. Agent Gilbert. And the assassin who dedicated his life to exterminating every Israeli on Earth—Z.”

  ***

  The following morning David was on his way to check the easel when he saw his wife leaning on the door frame, listening as Cindy and Glori stood in the hall chatting.

  Glori spoke in a hushed tone. “I know I shouldn’t be complaining, but Alain just took that picture. He never said anything about it till this morning when he told me they’d be interviewing Tamara and her mother. I bet the only reason he told me is because he knew I’d be talking to Tamara at some point. And she’d be sure to tell me about Alain and David showing up at her door.”

  Debbie spoke up. “Well, I introduced Tamara to General Pearson at our wedding. And I asked him if David could investigate her dad’s murder. And he said he couldn’t promise anything, but it sounds like they’re doing it now.”

  “Yeah. And dollars to doughnuts it’s cuz ol’ Jerry Lee Jerko the Colonel just so happens to be in the picture Alain stole.” Glori spoke in an exaggerated whisper. “So that means something.”

  “Glori, maybe there’s some clue there, and they need to follow up. Don’t worry about it. If it works out we’ll find out when the time is right,” Cindy said.

  “You mustn’t worry, Glori. David knows what he’s doing. He’ll find out who killed Senator Everett. And Kendra, too, I bet.” Debbie sounded adamant, and he had to smile.

  His smile faded as he approached the easel and noticed a gun appeared on the beach in Carmel.

  ***

  David and Alain headed to Beverly Hills after breakfast.

  “This is awkward,” Alain said.

  A rumbling of congestion in his chest turned to laughter. “Awkward? Really? I’m going to interview Tamara Everett to collect evidence to find out who killed her father, Senator Joe Everett.”

  “And all those bodyguards.” Alain smiled.

  “I certainly hope we don’t find any evidence. I’d like to believe I committed the perfect crime.”

  “I’m sure you did.” Alain managed to convey a mocking yet soothing tone.

  By the time David pulled the black sedan up to the Everett mansion, seriousness and decorum resumed. The butler led them to a sitting room. Miss Everett ordered tea for all.

  “Please excuse my mother. She sends her regards. But she suffered a bit of a stroke shortly after my father died. She rarely says a word these days.” Tamara Everett daintily poured the tea. “In any case, I was heartened to know you’re working on my father’s murder investigation. I thought Debbie was just being polite at your wedding, Agent Lambrecht. She’s such a doll.”

  “She is,” David agreed.

  Alain produced the photograph. “Miss Everett, Glori found this the other day, and we wondered if it might help us in some way.”

  Tamara tilted her head and a vague smile crossed her face. She seemed every bit the actress that Glori was. “That was taken in Rome. It was a lovely hotel. Artwork and sculpture everywhere. I think we were on our way out to the opera. We had my good friend Kendra with us on that trip. Well, she came with me almost all the time we traveled. Then I lost her a couple of months after Dad.” Tears filled her eyes, and she reached for a handkerchief. “Who’d want to kill Kendra? Can you tell me that?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Everett. We still don’t know,” Alain said.

  Tamara swallowed her tears. “Well, I can almost understand a U.S. senator. After all, Dad was one of the top people in Washington. But Kendra wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She took a sip of tea and composed herself.

  “We’re wondering about the men in the background. Do you know any of them?” Alain handed her the photo.

  Tamara stared at it momentarily. “I remember Colonel Johnson. He’d play golf with Dad sometimes. That other man was his assistant, I think. I don’t remember his name. That’s all I can tell you.”

  Alain stood beside her and asked her to point to the assistant. That was Gilbert.

  “And this man?” Alain pointed to Z.

  She shook her head. “I don’t remember him.”

  Her steel blue eyes met David’s. He knew she had more to tell.

  Paulo

  It was mid afternoon when Paulo learned Ellen would not be on the flight home with him. He stormed into Doug’s office in search of Joe Harris.

  Joe looked blissful. Cigar smoke encircling his head, his feet propped comfortably on Doug’s desk, he was savoring a moment of solitude.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me Ellen wasn’t coming with us?”

  Joe looked surprised. “What are ya talkin’ about? She’s going in a couple weeks—with Doug and Emily. She couldn’t get more than two weeks off from her job. Didn’t she tell you that?”

  “No! And what does it matter about her job? She’s going to live with me from now on. She doesn’t need a job.”

  Joe chuckled as he extinguished his cigar. “Paulo, I know you’ve been living in another world lately, but you’re sixteen years old—and Camellia is your mother. Why in hell would you think you were gonna be living with Ellen? Or any girl for that matter? Besides—she’s cute and everything—but don’t saddle yourself with just one girlfriend at this point. You’re gonna have girls—beautiful girls—throwing themselves at you. Enjoy it.”

  Rage and nausea surged, and Paulo ran from the room. He crashed headlong into his bodyguard Klaus. “I—I don’t feel well. Will you get me some apple juice? I’m going to sit down in the conference room.” Paulo headed down the hall as Klaus rushed to retrieve the juice.

  Paulo found Ellen sitting at the table, her face in her hands. He grabbed for her hand. “We need to go. Right now.” He pulled her from the chair and out of the building.

  He did not respond to her numerous questions as they strode to the bank next door. Ellen grew wide-eyed as he withdrew thousands of dollars from his account.

  They headed into the street, and without explanation, Paulo deposited her into the back seat of a taxi as a couple got out. The driver laughed when he requested he take them to Carmel. A hand full of cash silenced the driver and commenced the trip.

  Ellen grasped his arm and kept her voice low. “Why are we going to Carmel? What—what happened with Joe?”

  “We just need a little break, that’s all.” He was matter-of-fact.

  “Paulo! Talk to me. I need to be at work early tomorrow.”

  He scowled. “You don’t ever have to be at work again.”

  “What?”

  “You know that, Ellen. I told you a long time ago I have the money to pay for your nursing school. Or if you want to be a doctor, I have the money to pay for that, too. You don’t have to worry about money.”

  Her face was inscrutable. “Paulo, that’s really sweet. You and your family have been so generous and kind to me. But I know they think I’m a tramp.”

  Fury burned through his stomach, but she stopped him before he could speak.

  “They never ever said that—but we all know. They want someone really special for you, Paulo. You know, like a princess or something. I’m always gonna love you. You know that. But I can’t ruin your life. You’re a star. You deserve the very best—and I know that’s not me.”

  “It is you.” Paulo turned and stared out the window.

  At last the taxi turned into the driveway of the finest inn in Carmel. Another pile of money swore the driver to secrecy.

  Clad in tee shirts and jeans, and carrying no luggage, the couple sauntered through the elegant lobby to the young receptionist. Her mouth dropped open as she recognized the pair. “Oh! Oh! Paulo Clemente!” She fluttered her hands about her face.

  The manager at her side changed his expression from contempt to admiration. They were quickly checked in to one of the inn’s most comfortable rooms.

  Eduardo

  Jimmy was determined to clean up his desk. “Pearson thinks I’m incapable of being neat. I’ll show him.” There was a crash of old files into a box.

  Eduardo smirked at David and A
lain standing in the doorway. “Yeah, it’s not that you’re not a neatnik, Hollinger. It’s that you do so damn much work around here. You just got ten times as much paperwork as the rest of us.”

  Alain maneuvered around more boxes. “I’ve had enough. I think we can quit for the day. After dealing with the mess all afternoon, I think we’ll be ready to leave for Salzburg on time.” He retrieved car keys from his desk drawer. “Glori is already mad enough that I walked off with her picture. I don’t need to give her more excuses.”

  Eduardo answered his ringing phone. There was panic in his father’s voice. Shock gave way to anger as he ascertained his younger brother had deliberately disappeared without his bodyguard, or his cell phone, or his medical kit. On top of all that—Cat was in one of her deep sleep episodes. No one could wake her. That almost never would bode well.

  “Don’t worry, Papa. I’ll take care of it. We’ll find them.” He clicked off the phone. “Shit!”

  Ellen

  It was five thirty in the morning when Ellen woke up beside Paulo. He was sound asleep. She nestled closer to him and smiled as she thought of his choice of Carmel. Probably the first place he’d think of after David’s controversial tryst with Debbie. She wondered if their story could possibly have such a happy ending.

  She thought about Cat’s strange, unexplained prediction that she’d someday have a son. Would it be Paulo’s? She recited to herself the lyrics to the band’s new song, Inspired. She said a silent prayer.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a low-flying helicopter. Her serenity shattered, a sense of uneasiness enveloped her.