After a moment’s pause, the gates open, and I drive through, stopping in front of a valet several feet from the house. I hand him my keys, drape my purse over my shoulder, and step through their grand, open entryway where everyone is dressed up in fancy dresses and suits.
I chose the pink and blue dress of my mother’s, and although I’m underdressed for the party, I blend in well enough. That’s all I’ve ever been doing, anyway.
I pass through a few groups of people in the foyer, some I recognize, and a man approaches me with a tray filled with champagne flutes.
“No thank you,” I say, and they move on to the next guest.
I search the crowd for Cathrine. Has she arrived yet? Scanning the beautiful modern, formal living room, I take a few steps toward it, and two men in suits part, revealing a young woman with dark hair I recognize.
Olivia.
She’s standing near the doorway with a glass of champagne in her hand, dressed in a purple, calf-length dress.
I gravitate toward the familiar and friendly face among the crowd and stop in front of her.
“Hello.” I crack an awkward smile, hoping she’ll remember me. “Nice to see you again, Liv.”
She seems distant, and it takes a moment for a smile to form on her lips as she recognizes me. “Oh, wow. Hey, Jo. I...I wasn’t expecting to see you.” Her gaze darts across the room, even as she’s speaking. “How have you been?”
My smile disappears at the question, and I clutch at the sides of my flowy dress, staring at the ground. I don’t want to lie to her, but I couldn’t possibly begin to explain. She lives with them, though. Maybe she’ll understand that I need to be vague.
“I’ve had...a lot going on since we last saw each other.” I sigh and turn to face the rest of the room, stepping back beside Liv. “Quite the party, isn’t it? How’ve you been?”
Olivia smirks wryly. “Oh, yes, Mr. and Mrs. Locke spared no expense. It sounds like our luck did little for either of us, then. I’ve been dealing with a lot too,” so she does understand, “but today will be better.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Who doesn’t love a party? Hopefully it’s a good day for the both of us.”
Could it be, though? Only if I get my freedom. I turn to her, and we exchange a knowing glance before looking back out at the party.
“Hopefully. Liv, have you seen Ms. Locke?” I turn to her, remembering her confusion the first time we met, and laugh a little. “Cathrine, that is.”
“She was in the kitchen earlier,” Olivia’s gaze bounces around the room, “but...I don’t remember seeing her in the last few minutes, I’m sorry.” She lets out a light laugh. “At least she let you in the gate this time, right?”
I purse my lips, hiding a little smile, still scanning the crowd. “Figures. This time—I’d rather be anywhere else.” I wring my hands together, full of nervous energy, and shake my head.
I’m in the lion’s den now, but weeks ago, I’d have been proud to be part of the pride.
Pride cometh before the fall.
Olivia’s expression turns sad, and she takes a sip from her glass. “I know, trust me. Things look different from outside the gate, don’t they? I hope you get out, too, Jo, for what it’s worth.”
It’s worth a lot. More than she could ever know.
“Thanks, Liv. I better go find Cathrine now.” We turn to each other and exchange a knowing glance one more time.
“Goodbye, Jo. I won’t wish you luck this time, but I hope you find what you’re looking for here. Take care of yourself.” She drains the last of her glass, the sadness disappearing from her eyes, as if refueled with liquid courage.
My chest heaves as I give her a nod with a warm smile, wondering what she might need that courage for.
“Bye, Liv.” I stride back into the foyer, wasting no time, scanning the halls for signs of the kitchen. I turn over my shoulder, where I stood with Liv, and she’s gone.
“Josephine, there you are,” Cathrine says.
I turn toward her voice as she walks out of a room, a deep red, floor-length, formal gown hugging her curves, arm in arm with Mathison. His tall, solid frame looks dapper in his expensive navy suit.
Cathrine turns to him and taps her arm with her other hand. “Will you excuse us, please? I’ll see you on stage shortly for the speeches.”
He nods, raises his champagne flute to us both and disappears through the now crowded foyer.
“I need to go to the washroom,” she says, raising her voice over the hum of chatter, “I need to make sure I look presentable for the photos. Follow me.” She walks through the crowd, her dress swaying behind her, and I rush to keep up, my feet aching in my mother’s heels.
“While I’m in there, could you get me a flute of champagne and a sandwich triangle, please?” I stop in front of the stairs, and grab the railing, catching her attention. “I need to eat something before I go up for the speech.”
“I need to speak with you for a moment.”
“Yes, after. Please find Fern for me as well. She wanted to talk to me about something too. I want her right by my side on stage.”
“Ms. Locke, I need to speak with you now. Privately.” My heart races as I press her to take me seriously.
Why would she start now if she never has?
She frowns, her hand still resting on the railing. “I haven’t got the time.”
“You’ll want to hear this.” I stare at her, not letting her go with my gaze.
She smacks her red lips together. “Fine, in here.”
She leads me into a smaller room off the foyer and closes the door behind us. It’s full of books, wall to wall, and a desk in the middle before a fireplace.
“This is very poor timing, Josephine,” she huffs, smoothing her dress.
I fold my hands together behind my back. “I’ve come across some information that would be of interest to you.”
“Well, come on then, out with it.”
“I’m not sure I can tell you until I have certain—assurances.” She frowns and shakes her head as I continue, “If I give you this life-changing information, I want you to be part of a big change in my life. I want you to let me go.”
She cranes her neck back and rests her hands on her hips. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“You want power within this company, and I want my freedom, Cathrine.” It’s the first time saying her first name to her face fills me with joy. There are no places to be put anymore. No respect to be earned. Just two people, making a business deal. Hopefully my last. “I want you to let me leave Locke Industries, and I want your assurance that you and anyone from the company who’d mean me harm will leave me alone.”
“It’s gotten to you,” she sneers at me. “Despite my better judgment, I gave you opportunities, but the responsibility has gotten to you. I chose you because you’ve worked harder than anyone for me, besides Fern. I chose you because you’re easy to mold. Most of all, I chose you because you’ve seen the ugliness of this world, yet you continued to live in it. Your parents dying of overdoses. Your sister, almost doing the same. You have such a heavy burden on you, Josephine, and what I’ve offered you is a way out, but you’re rejecting it like a slap in my face?”
“Cathrine, I don’t give a damn why you chose me, and I don’t need you anymore. You need me. You need what I know.”
She shakes her head, her silver and white locks bouncing on her shoulders as she struts back toward the door. “You’ve made a grave error, Josephine. I was crystal clear with you about what would happen if you stepped out of line. If you crossed me.”
“Never cross a Locke, right?” She stops and turns on her heel. “I remember. Seems like you should have taken your own advice.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Her eyes twitch, but her blood red lips remain tightly pressed together as she waits for my response.
And I make her wait. I need her to want this just as much as I want my freedom.
“I have the knowledge you need to regain po
wer at Locke Industries—”
“You’ve got no such thing.” She squints at me and takes a step closer. “You haven’t come anywhere close to power in your life. If you had it, why would you be giving it to me?”
“Because I don’t need it. I want my freedom. I want to buy my freedom. That’s the cost for my information.”
She shakes her head. “You have nothing I want or need.” She jabs her finger in my direction, “And you’ll regret this.”
“You’ll regret not hearing me out, unless of course, you don’t want to take over Locke Industries.”
Her hand with her pointed finger falls to her side, and she looks over her shoulder to the door, then back at me. “Don’t waste my time.”
“What if I could prove that you’re an equal share owner of Locke Industries, in partnership with Orrick Locke?”
Her gaze falls to my left, down toward the floor as she shakes her head.
“It’s true. I have the proof, and I’ll give it to you for my freedom.”
Her chest heaves as she takes a few steps toward me, closing the distance between us. “And how did you come upon this information?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Well, it’s not true. As much as I wish it were, as hard as I worked to earn my position and the respect of Lawrence, he betrayed me. The chauvinist gave his son the job, and I remained right where I was. He died, knowing it, at peace with his decision, and that was that. I learned the hard way: you never cross a Locke. It can’t be true.”
“For a woman who wants power so badly, it’s funny how you’re so sure you couldn’t have it.”
“What is this proof?” she chortles with the last word.
“I couldn’t tell you unless you accept my offer, contingent upon my freedom and you receiving the information to claim your rightful place in the company.”
“And if I accepted this offer, how would you know I wouldn’t just ruin you afterwards?”
“I want a video recording of you right now, with a witness, declaring that any statements made against my character and time as an employee at Locke Industries, regarding any damning or illegal activities, is categorically false.”
“Fine,” she says, quickly. “If you can prove it. Fine.”
“I want you to relieve me of my position.” She nods. Let’s tack on extra then. Hazard pays. “Pay me the bonus I should have gotten for my first client, and then leave me the hell alone. Then, you’ll get your proof.”
Standing in my mother’s old dress, across from Cathrine Locke and her dress worth thousands, I’ve never felt richer. More powerful.
She takes another step closer, within arm’s reach. “I want to see it now.”
“There’s only one person who can give it to you. Do you want to ruin me, or do you want to finally take your rightful place in the company? It’s your business, Cathrine. Isn’t it time you mind your own?”
She stares me down, her chest heaving and her face red. “Who? Who’s the witness?”
“Mathison.”
“What? Why?”
“Because aside from Fern, he’ll be the first person you tell about this, so he might as well know now. I know about the little side deal you had with him.”
Her eyes open wide. “How would you know that?”
I can’t help but smile as she loses her power over me. “Time’s ticking. You’re to go on any minute now. Do we have a deal?”
“Find Mathison,” she blurts out and turns away from me, leaning against the shelf by the wall.
“Find him yourself.” I stand my ground in the heels pinching my toes harder by the second.
Her hand flinches, like she’s going to slap me until she clenches her fist. She storms out of the room instead and I grab my phone to set up the video camera. An unopened text from an unknown number awaits me.
Tackman.
Tonight. Nine.
Good.
My chest tightens as I fumble with the phone, trying to set up the frame of the video on a shelf by the desk as Cathrine comes back with Mathison, who looks more confused than I’ve ever seen him.
She takes a seat in front of the phone, I press play, and she begins her statement. With each sentence, I grow more eager to have it finished, and wrought with worry that the recording won’t be enough. They’re two of a kind; they could still decide to come after me together, but I don’t have many of their secrets. I’m not a big threat to them. Just to my one and only client, and I bet
Cathrine doesn’t care much about him anyway.
She finishes, and I stop the recording, checking to make sure I got it all as she rejoins Mathison’s side.
“In preparation for his retirement,” I tuck my phone in my purse, “Lawrence Locke originally had a contract drawn up to divide ownership in the company. He chose to leave equal shares to both you and Orrick, naming Orrick the acting CEO, and yourself his advisor. He signed the papers and transferred them to the legal department, but Orrick created a document of his own, one where he received the lion’s share of the ownership and made sure you were left with only power equal to the board. He forged his father’s signature and submitted the document on his behalf.”
“How is this possible?” Mathison asks. “If Lawrence really wanted what you claim he did, and saw Cathrine didn’t get it, how could he have stood by? Not fixed it? That’s what I’ve never understood.”
“Lawrence Locke never knew a new copy existed. I don’t know what he thought, but if I had to guess, I’d say, from his perspective, after he left you half the company and you stopped communicating with him, he thought you were an ungrateful bitch and was glad he made his son acting CEO.”
“How is that possible?” Cathrine whispers in a hiss, turning to Mathison.
“In a family that’s as sinister and secretive as yours,” I say, “I’m sure there’s a lot you don’t know about each other.”
Her eyes open wider, and Mathison turns to her, brow raised, waiting for her reaction.
I’ve rendered Cathrine Locke speechless.
Speaking of…
“The speech is beginning,” I turn to the door, “and this is the last you’ll see of me. If you come after me again, you’ll find out what else I know about you—like what was really going on that day at Orrick’s, with your special installation job with Casey. And, no, it wasn’t Casey who told me. Think bigger.”
She cocks her head to the side, her jaw and fists clenched tight as she stares daggers into me.
Whatever they really did that day of the installation, the fact that she thinks I know it is enough to show her I’m serious.
Enough for me to know it was sinister.
“Goodbye, Cathrine.” I clutch my purse strap on my shoulder as someone on the stage out there taps the microphone, then I stride out of the room and through the foyer. My heels click against the concrete front drive on the way to the valet.
The click-clacking of the businesswoman I no longer am in shoes I never fit into. I take them off and pinch them together as I scurry down the path to the parking lot.
“Almost free,” I whisper to myself. “One down. One to go.”
Chapter Thirty
Lizard
“We’ll leave tonight,” I whisper in a hushed tone as Maggie peeks out from behind my bedroom door at Andy playing his video games.
Rain splatters against the window beside my bed as I take off our mother’s dress and pull on a pair of tight, dark jeans. Since leaving the party, I’ve agonized over Tackman and whether I should even bother with the gun and hostage anymore. Did his payment of my debt soften me to him, or do I not have it in me to go there again? To put myself in danger. To say goodbye.
Maggie sits on the bed as I pull a black tank top over my head, crossing her legs and picking at her fingers. “I was starting to like it here.”
“You were?”
“Just starting to get into the groove of things again. Meeting new people…”
I pull my hair out from beneath my
black V-neck shirt, catching the sad look in her eyes. “Your new friend?”
She nods and sighs. “He’s not really new.” I wait for her to continue. “He’s the one who found me and brought me in the last time I overdosed when Brad pretty much abandoned me. He came to the hospital after to make sure I was okay, and we’ve been in touch since.”
“Even through rehab?”
“No,” she shakes her head, “but he did take me to this really nice support group of mothers. He took Andy and I there the other day.”
“Have you gotten close with him?”
“Only in an unspoken way. He rescued me. He’s seen me at my absolute worst…” She stares down into her lap, thinking about the same man who trapped me in Tackman’s home. Our perceptions aside, I can’t deny he saved her. That because of him, I’ve had this new chance with her, and Andy has his mom back. “But no. We haven’t gotten to know each other that well yet—haven’t had the time.”
“Do you resent me for making us move?”
She twists a curl between her fingers. “No way. You and Andy are the most important to me. Bobby and I, maybe we’ll keep in touch, maybe we won’t, but I’ll never forget what he did for me.”
Bobby. I guess that’s his real first name.
If this goes badly, I’ll have to tell her about him, so she knows never to talk to him again. So she knows who he really is, what he really does, and what he’s done to me. But if I don’t have to hurt her, I won’t.
This could go okay. I could find the gun, get out, and maybe Tackman will forget me.
If that Cami woman comes around, it should be easy enough. He shouted into the phone that night that he cares about her. She gets declarations. His attention. His protection.
Maggie stands, and I squeeze her hand. “I appreciate you trusting me. When I leave, don’t open the door for anyone, not even your friend Bobby, and if I’m not back by midnight, or you haven’t heard from me, go to the cabin.”
She nods. “I got it. And Jo,” her chest heaves as she looks at me with a little apprehension, “it won’t always be like this.”
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