by Mallory Kane
“Maura Presley, this is Juliana Caprese and Dawson Delancey.”
Maura was a tall blonde whose black-rimmed glasses couldn’t hide her beauty. She was dressed conservatively, in a black suit with a no-nonsense white shirt. Her briefcase was Coach and her pumps were Alexander McQueen. She held out her hand to Juliana and then to Dawson.
“So are you about to go back in?” Hardy asked her.
“We’ve taken it this far. Let’s go see what Schumer has to say.”
“Maura, before you go in, I’ve got something on Vega,” Dawson said. “Or I will have by early in the morning. It just might link Vega with money laundering, maybe even worse.”
Maura Presley eyed him narrowly. “Might?” She sounded interested but skeptical.
He nodded. “That’s why I want to hear what Schumer’s got.”
The three of them slipped into the viewing room as Maura entered the interrogation room. The big bald goon sat at the table. His shirt was wrinkled and the right elbow was soaked in blood. His mouth no longer curled up in a sneer. Maura walked in, set the tape recorder on the table and flipped the switch. Schumer wiped a beefy hand down his face.
“Well, Mr. Schumer, have you had a chance to think about my offer?”
He regarded her silently and a ghost of the sneer briefly crossed his face. “What I’ve got is good enough to put Vega away. But if he knows that I have done this, I will not survive two months, much less two years behind bars. His fingers reach far.”
Hardy whistled and Dawson slammed a fist into his palm.
“What?” Juliana asked.
“He’s never mentioned Vega’s name before,” Hardy said, glancing at Dawson. “This could work.”
Maura sat back and folded her arms. “I can put you into a maximum security federal facility in another state, if what you have is good enough—”
“It is!”
Maura held up her hand. “If it’s good enough to stick,” she emphasized. “If Vega walks, you go to the Mississippi State Penitentiary.”
Schumer’s face blanched. “I won’t last a day at Parchman. Vega can snap his fingers and have me killed.”
“Then you’d better hope your information is good.”
The bald man nodded. “I swear it is.”
Juliana touched Hardy’s arm. “Do you know what he’s got?”
Hardy exchanged another look with Dawson. “Let’s get out of here.”
He led them out of the viewing room and to his desk. He sat behind it. Dawson gestured to her to sit in the single straight-backed chair, and he stood behind her.
Hardy said, “We informed Schumer that Maynard copped to stealing the letter and that he told us Schumer had it. Schumer finally admitted it. He claims it was written by Randall Knoblock and that Knoblock enclosed a flash drive that held a recording of a telephone conversation he had with Vega.”
“Of course! That was the rectangular object I felt in the envelope,” Juliana said.
“Did he say what the phone conversation was?” Dawson asked.
“He said it proves Vega was the one who ordered the changes in the Sky Walk. Said Knoblock told Vega he was done with him.”
“What about Knoblock. Can we find him? Will he testify?” Dawson asked.
Brian shook his head. “I’ve had a man checking on him. Knoblock’s dead. He was killed in a car crash—hit-and-run—about a week after the letter was stolen.”
“That’s what my dad was afraid of. He told me Vega would never leave a loose end like Knoblock alive,” Dawson said.
“Vega killed him,” Juliana gasped.
“I doubt we can prove that,” Brian said.
“So what about the letter and the flash drive?” Dawson continued.
“If Maura can talk Schumer into taking her deal, he’ll produce the evidence. She’ll have to decide if it’s substantial enough, If it is, she’ll send Schumer to the facility she mentioned, and take the evidence to the grand jury. This is going to be a long process at best. And I doubt seriously there’s a judge in the country who will remand Vega.”
“So Jules could still be in danger.”
“Vega will be under a microscope once all this comes out. My guess is that with you to protect her, Juliana will be safe as houses.”
She felt Dawson stiffen beside her and she knew exactly what he was thinking. After the way she’d acted when she’d seen Michael Delancey’s name in his phone, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of her.
* * *
A WEEK LATER Juliana stood in the living room of her father’s house and waved goodbye to a real-estate agent. The woman had given her the name of a handyman to replace the picture window and rip out the carpet. She needed to have the whole house professionally cleaned to get rid of the odors of smoke and gasoline before she had new carpet and drapes installed.
The agent had suggested that she update the kitchen with new appliances and new cabinets. Juliana told her that if she were keeping the house, she’d do a total kitchen remodel, but because she was selling it, she’d just throw in an appliance allowance for the buyers.
She felt good about the asking price. A wistful pang brought sudden tears to her eyes. She loved this house and would love to live here, but it wasn’t practical. It was much too big for a single woman, and selling it would secure her future.
Several years ago, when he decided to retire, her dad had added the den and made the carport into a combination media and craft room where he tied fishing flies and tinkered with small wood projects. Then he’d added a two-car garage. Altogether, he’d increased the size of the house from 2,100 to 3,200 square feet.
She swallowed against a lump in her throat. She’d give every last penny to have her dad back. But at least Vega would pay for his part in her dad’s death.
Don’t get your hopes too high, Dawson had warned her. If Vega draws a judge who owes him or one he’s got dirt on, things might not go your way. One big thing in our favor, though, is that bank records from the Cayman Islands prove that Vega may have been laundering money through his various corporations for years.
Our favor. The only reason he’d said that was because the evidence not only connected Vega with the Sky Walk, but it also helped to prove his dad wasn’t responsible for the collapse.
“Get out of my head, Dawson,” she muttered as she picked up the real-estate agent’s card and headed for the kitchen to stick it in her purse.
“Somebody taking my name in vain?” a familiar sexy-as-sin voice said.
Juliana whirled. Dawson was standing in the doorway, looking like everything she’d ever dreamed of. He had on creased khaki pants and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
She frowned, reminding herself that he was done with her. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped inside and frowned back at her. “Was that a real-estate agent’s car I saw leaving?”
She nodded. “I’m going to sell it, after I get the repairs done.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Dawson replied, looking around the living room. “The damage isn’t too bad in here.”
What was he doing here, acting all normal? “Do you have news about Vega?” she asked.
He walked over to the hall door and checked out the hall. Then he turned back to her. “Hardy told me what Knoblock’s letter said. He claimed Vega ordered him to use materials that would guarantee the Sky Walk would collapse.”
She tried to process that. “I don’t understand. I mean, I’m glad if it’s enough to put Vega away, but why would he do something that would kill innocent people?”
“Remember I told you that your dad had made notes in his day planner about Vega’s son? He told your dad he’d been a friend of yours in school. Once your dad figured out that Anthony was blackmailing wealthy gamblers who were running around on their wives or cheating or whatever else he could dig up on them, your dad called the police. Anthony was arrested for extortion and blackmail.”
&nbs
p; Juliana nodded. “You gave the day planners to the assistant district attorney.”
“Vega had already begun plans to build the Golden Galaxy. He was going to give it to Anthony to run. But then Anthony was killed. Vega was devastated by the death of his only son, but he went ahead with his plans to have the casino built.”
“So he hired Daddy to manage it—”
“Because he blamed him for Anthony’s death. It was your dad who’d put Anthony in prison. Vega wanted your dad ruined. The Sky Walk would collapse. Vega would make sure your dad never worked again. He probably didn’t plan to kill him. Who knows if he thought innocent people would die. But he made sure the Sky Walk would break. It was his idea of vengeance.”
“All that for vengeance against my father.”
“That’s the way Knoblock outlined it in his letter. The recorded phone conversation, plus my dad’s testimony, should clinch it.”
“Your dad?”
“My dad overheard that same telephone conversation with Knoblock. He had no idea what it meant because he only heard Knoblock’s side of it. His statement to the police is almost word for word what Knoblock said on the phone.”
Juliana squeezed her eyes shut. “I think I’m still very confused.”
“Hey, you’re the one who got all this started by figuring out the connections between Vega and all those corporations. Because of your flowchart, I sent an investigator to Switzerland to check out Bayside Industries. What he brought back was solid gold—a connection between Bayside Industries and Meadow Gold and a bank in the Caymans. It was your research, your flowchart, that will convict Vega of money laundering.”
“So Vega is facing money laundering charges? What else?”
“Probably reckless endangerment is the most they can get him on for the Sky Walk’s collapse. But he’s also being investigated for extortion and possible murder charges, if anything comes of Knoblock’s death.”
Juliana felt overwhelmed. “I don’t know if I’m glad he’s going to be punished or furious that he won’t be serving consecutive life sentences for six murders.”
“Hey,” Dawson said, reaching out an arm toward her, but then hesitating. “In all these years nobody has been able to bring Vega down. You did it.”
“Not by myself. And I don’t really feel triumphant. Just sad.”
He nodded, then turned back toward the hall door. “What’s through here?” he asked, walking into the hall and across to the den. “Wow, nice den. It would make a great office.”
“Haven’t you seen it before?”
“No, I never made it inside the house.” He turned and gave her a small smile. “I’d like to say I rescued you from the fire, but a fireman was bringing you out by the time I got here.” He went to the next door off the hall.
“What’s through there?” He headed toward it without waiting for her to answer.
“Dawson,” she started, but he was through the door and turning on the light. She had no choice but to follow.
“What a cool room. Big-screen TV, surround sound. Why’re you selling? You ought to move back here.” He looked around. “A refrigerator. Your dad sure knew how to live.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he grimaced. “Sorry.”
She smiled. “It’s okay,” she said, and realized it really was. “He did know how to live. He loved football and basketball. I was stunned when he added all this, but he told me he was—” She had to stop. That lump was back. She swallowed, then continued. “He said he wanted plenty of room for—for grandkids.”
Dawson had his arms around her before she was aware that he’d moved. She stiffened. She couldn’t bear to have him hold her and then walk away.
He obviously felt her go still because he let go of her, but not before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry, Jules. I know you miss him.”
“So you came here to tell me about Vega? I’m glad he’s going to pay for what he did. But—” she gestured vaguely in the direction of the living room “—I was just about to leave.”
He took a step backward and an odd expression crossed his face. “Okay,” he said. “The only other thing I have is information from Maura Presley. She’s arranged for a civil lawyer to prepare briefs for a civil case against Vega, for reparations to the families of the people who died in the Sky Walk’s collapse. She’s also asked him to look into restoring my dad’s architectural license.”
“I’m glad, about all of it. So you and your dad—”
Dawson didn’t speak for a minute. He walked over to the TV and examined it. “Yeah, we’re doing okay. I realized I never gave him a chance.”
Juliana looked at him. It obviously had been a big step for him to go to his dad and apologize. It had taken a lot of courage. Speaking of courage, if she was ever going to apologize to him, now was the time. She was afraid that once he walked out the front door she might never see him again.
She took a long breath. “I know what you mean,” she said.
Dawson cocked an eyebrow at her. “What I mean about what?”
“About giving people a chance. I realized—” She’d used up all her breath, or maybe it was the tightness in her throat. She tried again. “I never gave you a chance.”
He leaned against a dark wood bookcase and picked up a DVD, examining it. “Tell me more,” he said without looking up.
She frowned at him. Was he mocking her? She couldn’t be sure. “I should have let you explain when I—when I found out who you were—are.”
“Yeah—” He took a deep breath. “I guess I should have told you who I am from the beginning.”
“I understand why you didn’t,” she replied.
“You do?” he asked, lifting his head slightly. The odd, pensive look was still in his expression.
She nodded. “I probably would have shot you.”
He nodded, but he didn’t smile at her joke.
She swallowed hard. “Dawson, I want you to have—” She stopped. What had she done with it? She patted her pockets. It had been in these jeans—which she’d washed.
Oh, please, please don’t be lost. She slid her fingers into the left front pocket and felt around.
There. Thank God. She slid her hand out and closed her fist around it. Her breath whooshed out in relief.
“What are you doing?”
“You know how many times I asked you not to call me Jules?”
He nodded, looking wary. “A lot.”
“Well, it was because that’s what my dad called me. I didn’t want anyone else—I didn’t want you—that close.”
He looked down at the DVD.
“Here,” she said, stepping closer to him. She was going to chicken out if she didn’t get it over with. “Hold out your hand.”
He did, frowning.
“I want you to have this. It was my dad’s. It was very special to him. He’d have liked you. He’d have—told me to get over myself.” She ran the words together, afraid she might cry before she got them out.
She had no idea what he would do—she had no idea what she wanted him to do. All she knew was that for whatever reason, it seemed right that he should have her dad’s wedding ring. It was little enough payment for everything he’d done for her.
“What is this?” He held it up, then brought it closer and squinted. “Do you know what’s engraved on here?”
She nodded. Here they came. The tears. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I know. My mom did it. She had it engraved and gave it to Daddy on their wedding day.”
He looked stunned. “What am I supposed to do with it?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse.
“I—I don’t know. Wear it? Put it in a box somewhere?” She wiped the tears away and stuck her chin out. “Pawn it if things get tough?”
His throat moved as he swallowed. He frowned, raised his brows, frowned again. Then he laughed.
“Don’t—” she started, but he held up a hand.
“No, wait—” he gasped. “You’re not going to believe this.”
/> Juliana’s heart wrenched, hurt by his laughter.
But the laughter stopped and he grew solemn. He drew in a long breath. “I was talking to my mom and dad last night and, well, you came up. I was telling them about your wanting to be a private investigator and how—” he cleared his throat “—how brave and determined you are.”
He stopped, twirling her dad’s ring on the tip of his index finger and staring at it. “Mom, she’s brave and determined, too. You’ll like her.”
Juliana was speechless. She’d never seen Dawson like this. He was awkward, maybe even shy.
“So my mom gives me a look and goes to her room and comes back with something. She—you’d have to know her—” he said, shaking his head. “She still treats me like I’m sixteen. She patted my cheek and said maybe it was time she gave it to me.” He sucked in a breath, as if his words had used up all his air.
“Gave what to you?” Juliana’s lungs felt deflated, too. She didn’t dare to guess what he was talking about.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled something out—a box. Tiny. Velvet.
“Wh-what’s that?” she asked, hardly able to hear herself over the pounding of her heart.
He fumbled with it for a second, then finally opened it. Inside, on a black velvet pillow, was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. The gold setting mimicked flower petals and on each petal was a diamond or a ruby.
“Oh,” she said, choking on the word. “What—what is that? Why are you showing it to me?”
“Because my mom told me to.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “What?”
He smiled. “I think I already knew, but I can be a little dense sometimes. My mom told me to tell you that I love you.”
“You—”
He nodded. “This was my grandmother’s ring, and I’d be most honored if you’d consider wearing it. I’d like for us to be partners.”
“Partners? Dawson, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. The ring, it’s too much. It’s—”
He grinned at her. “I need somebody who’s as good at paperwork and research as you are because I hate that stuff. I want you to come to work for me, as my partner.”