Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set
Page 102
Reese expected Quinn to explode.
Instead, he watched, a little stunned, as she simply got up from her chair and crossed over to where her father still stood by the window.
With tears still spilling out of her eyes, she told him, “It isn’t your fault. Not entirely. Oh, the fact that you let the lawyers handle everything, well, you have to live with that. But if Jessica Boyd hadn’t gotten involved from the start, things might have turned out differently.”
“Who is this Jessica, this Alana person I keep hearing about?”
“They’re both dead now, no longer important. But I’ll tell you all I know. They were conniving, thieving, murdering women who killed at will for their own greed.” She put her hand on Nick’s cheek. “I want to know everything you can remember about Lisa, about my mother. Try really hard to think of all the things she said to you. The things she did. I want to know my mother.”
“Sure, I remember things. I’ll tell you everything I can think of.”
“She painted. There’s a painting I used to have in my apartment. I almost tossed it into the trash once. Thank God I gave it to Kit when she moved out. Of course, at the time, I was trying to get rid of it because I thought it belonged to Ella. Now, it seems it’s the only thing I had of hers that was real.”
As if Kit read her mind, she leaned over and whispered, “Maybe you could talk Trevor into sharing custody of the painting.”
Quinn chuckled and wrapped her arm around Kit. “Thanks, I needed that.” She wiped back tears and turned to Max. “How did you find out about all of this?”
Max nodded in Reese’s direction. “His man Donovan found Ella Canyon locked up and tucked away where no one could get to her. I’m sure that was on purpose. She’s been there for several years. For some reason she took to Donovan. He gets the credit for finding this much out and for bringing her back to L.A.”
Nick lifted a hand to Quinn’s face. “You really do look like her. You have her energy, her enthusiasm, her boundless joy. My mother wanted to come. Did I mention that? She’ll be wanting to have a sit-down visit with her only granddaughter as soon as you can manage it.”
She smiled. “I’d like that. I’m sorry I said your music was garbage.”
He laughed and brought her into his chest for a hug. “Ah, I’ve always heard children make the worst of our critics.”
He kissed the top of her head. “We have some catching up to do, girl. I hope you’re up to having a father because I intend to be a part of your life, look out for you from here on out. Say no, and I’ll just keep after you until you give in.”
Quinn looked up into his deep, brown eyes. All of a sudden she needed to believe those eyes were part of her. “It’ll take some getting used to but…” She looked over at Baylee and smiled.
She turned back to Nick and admitted, “A very wise woman once told me I’d have only the one chance in life at having a father. I think she might have been right. I’d certainly like to give a father-daughter relationship a try.” She tilted her head. “How comfortable are you at your hotel?”
He shrugged. “Hotels aren’t really the same thing as home, never have been. No amount of amenities can ever take the place of what you have in your own home.”
She glanced over at Kit. “You wouldn’t happen to have room for another guest, would you?”
Kit grinned. “Sure, there’s always room at the inn for one more member of our growing family.”
CHAPTER 24 Book 3
Out in the hallway, Reese found Max St. John.
Pulling him aside where no one else could hear, he asked, “I need to know what evidence you actually have against Cade and Collin that points to them blowing up Quinn’s building. Fingerprints, DNA, anything at all enough to go to a judge and get an arrest warrant?”
Surprised, Max replied, “Looking for more clients, Brennan?”
He threw him a disgusted glance. “Don’t even start that crap. I ask because I checked this morning and there is only one warrant out for Cade Boyd and it’s for Claire’s murder. There’s nothing out for Collin. And I’m really wondering at this point, why you can’t find this guy?”
“We’re coming up empty regarding evidence pointing to them for Quinn’s building. And just recently both brothers changed out their cell phones on us. We know Collin more than likely will not show up for the July hearing on the kidnapping charge. But our hands are tied until he is actually a no-show. We’re doing our best, Brennan. Show a little faith, a little patience, let the system work in your favor.”
“That’s what I thought. And you have to wait until the preliminary hearing in July to see if he’s a no-show before you issue another warrant? Got it. I just want to make sure you have nothing tying them to the arson and the eight deaths at Quinn’s building. You have no actual evidence pointing to them.”
“We know they did it, we just haven’t found that link to them yet. But we will. Hey, you know how the system works as well as I do.” He eyed Reese warily. “Don’t even think about doing anything where I’ll have to arrest your ass, Brennan. Got that?”
“Me? What would I do? I’m just a geeky lawyer. It’s also come to my attention that your department is investigating several missing prostitutes from the same escort service. Is that info correct?” He saw cop-interest flicker in Max’s eyes and knew he had him hooked.
“It isn’t my case.” But Max gave him a curious look. “You have information about that? It’s your duty to share it.”
“Come into my office. Let’s call the detective in charge of the case, see if he’s interested in looking into a tip from a concerned citizen.”
Later, after Max had taken off, Reese explained what he’d learned to Jake and Dylan. “Just like we thought it looks like Cade and Collin could walk away from all of this, except maybe for Claire’s murder. Which means Cade could leave the country.”
“How did Max feel about the call girl theory?” Dylan asked.
“Interested. But that’s a far cry from having anything concrete. DNA is the answer. He’s going to follow that route. But first they have to find Cade in order to get it on the sly.”
“So, are we talking about going the typical route here, take them down via warrant and an arrest where they might just make bail and leave the country, or are we moving forward with ending this thing for real?” Jake asked.
“Look, handing Max the call girl theory was simple backup for me. As far as I’m concerned, we end this thing, the three of us.” He glanced at Dylan who seemed to be wavering. “Doubts? Second thoughts? Concerns? Now would be the time.”
Jake narrowed his eyes, took the time to glare in Dylan’s direction. “Nothing’s changed for me. You?”
“It’s just that, how long have we known each other? Thirty years? We’ve been in some dicey situations together and managed to get out of all of them.”
Reese nodded. “Go on.”
“Remember the time we went down to Tijuana when we were in high school, got into a fight with those German tourists, tore the place up?”
“You feel like walking down memory lane now?”
Jake didn’t like where this was going. “Yeah, we were real bad asses back then. So? You want to back out? Is that what you’re saying? Because it’s convenient for you that Trevor took care of your Connor problem, isn’t it? Reese and I aren’t that lucky. If we don’t end them here and now, we’ll both still be dealing with Cade and Collin long after Kit and I get married.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all. We’ve always had each other’s backs no matter what. And now is no exception.” Dylan held out his hand. “There’s no one else I’d rather stand beside in a fight than you two guys.”
“Aw, we like you too,” Reese said as he reached to grab his outstretched hand. “Want a hug, too?”
“Kiss ass.”
“Okay, but I’m really more of a leg man and the thing is I’ve always had this thing for your legs, Surfer Boy. You have the nicest legs, all tanned and strong and.
..”
Dylan shot him his middle finger. “You’re sick, Brennan. You know that?” He turned to glare at Jake. “Now you want to tell me what that was all about because I’m for ending this thing, too.”
Jake nodded. “Okay. Sorry, I’m a little edgy.”
“We all are. Then as long as we’re in agreement, I’ll put the wheels in motion,” Reese added.
Back inside the penthouse at the Bel-Air Monaco, Nick Tyler began gathering up his clothes and personal belongings from the dresser drawers and bathroom, stuffing them down into his bags.
His daughter had invited him to stay at some place called Crandall House in a small fishing village north of Los Angeles known as San Madrid.
He was so excited about the offer he’d already called his mother back in Ireland to let her know the granddaughter she hadn’t seen in more than twenty years had decided to give him a second chance.
At the knock on the door, he hesitated to answer it. He already knew before opening it Gerald was more than likely standing on the other side. He didn’t want to deal with the man right now.
“Come on, Nick, I just want to talk to you, explain things.”
“Go away, Gerald. There’s nothing to talk about. I told you I’d pay for your way back to Dublin on a commercial flight. I left the ticket info downstairs at the front desk.”
“No, I want you to face me.”
“That’s just it, Gerald, I don’t want to see your fucking face ever again,” Nick shouted through the wood.
“After forty bloody years the least you can do is hear me out.”
Nick threw open the door. “Make it fast. I have a car waiting.” That’s when Nick saw the gun Gerald waved in his right hand. “What the fuck are you doing with that?”
“If you don’t listen to reason, I’ll bloody well kill myself. I swear I will and I’ll take the famous Nick Tyler with me. I thought I was looking out for you, looking out for your best interests, like a brother. You know I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
“Gerald, give me the gun.”
“No, I want you to listen to me. I didn’t know about Lisa. I swear to you I didn’t know she was dead. Ella looked like the Indian girl even though I was fairly certain she was nothing but a druggie. How was I supposed to know about the switch they made? I didn’t know Jessica kept the million. I didn’t know Alana killed Lisa. How could I have known something like that? Back then Portman was your barrister, not me. If you’re looking to blame someone, blame him. Me? I was only looking out for you.”
Nick realized then his friend had gone slightly mad. “Okay. You were looking out for my money. And this Alana woman, how is it she was able to talk you into this whole scheme, Gerry? You bought her fucking house. Answer me that and put down the gun.”
“The woman was incredible-looking, a fucking goddess. She would do things in bed no other woman would do. But despite all that you should be grateful I intervened. If not for me the little bitch would surely have continued to live on the dole.”
Nick glared at his lifelong friend. How could he have not seen this side to Gerald a long time ago?
Nick waited for his opportunity, realizing he had to keep Gerry talking. “So you knew? You knew what kind of life my daughter was living and did nothing about it.”
In the meantime Gerald kept waving the gun carelessly back and forth. “You didn’t seem to give a shit, so why would I?”
Nick didn’t like hearing the truth. “Face it, Ger, the only fucking reason you got involved when you did is because you saw an opportunity to screw this Alana and make a couple of extra pounds out of the situation.”
Gerald started laughing. “If you could have seen Alana, what a body she had, she looked like a goddess and fucked like a whore.”
One too many times the gun went back and forth until finally Nick tackled Gerald body to body, sending the man flying back against the plate-glass terrace doors.
The gun came out of his hand then and hit the window with a thud.
Nick overpowered the much shorter man as he landed punch after punch, blow after blow into Gerald’s face. “That’s for calling my daughter a bitch.” When he landed several more hits, he muttered, “And that’s for the part you played in letting that son of a bitch Ross Jennetti get anywhere near my daughter.”
Several hours later, charged with disorderly conduct, specifically disturbing the peace, Nick looked up from his holding cell to see Quinn gesturing a piece of paper in his direction from the other side of lockup.
He grinned. His daughter had made bail and in record time.
He held up his hand to let her know he’d seen her and watched as the burly, uniformed guard meandered across the hallway to unlock the door and let him out.
As soon as the barrel-chested man turned the key, Nick pushed the metal back and stepped into the corridor.
The guy immediately shoved a piece of paper in his face. It wasn’t his release papers. “How about an autograph? My wife’s a huge Nick Tyler fan. You should’ve heard her when I called her and told her you were in my lockup, said if I didn’t get your autograph I shouldn’t even bother coming home tonight. Her name’s Betty.”
“Okay,” Nick grunted, more than a little embarrassed about his incarceration. He just wanted out of this place. He signed what was put in front of him, something about best of luck, Betty, and made the short walk with his head down until he got to where Quinn stood.
She had a big grin on her face and then he saw she was actually laughing at him.
“Geez, I can’t let you out of my sight for an hour without you embarrassing the family.” She snickered again. “I thought parents were supposed to bail their kids out of jail, not the other way around.”
“I can explain. Thanks for coming, by the way. You were the only other person I knew to call.”
She let out another belly laugh. “The cops said you beat the crap out of Gerald Baines. Is that true?”
“I’m not proud of it. But yes. He deserved every punch and then some.”
It didn’t take long before they were outside on the sidewalk.
Reese waited at the curb where he took the time to peruse Nick’s face up and down and remarked, “You don’t even look like you’ve been in a fight. The cops said you went after Baines, had a brawl right there in your hotel room, tore the place up.”
“Nah, Gerald always was a lightweight. He never even landed a blow.”
“But they said he threatened you,” Quinn added. “He had a gun.”
“That he did. A big one.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “He knew, Quinn, all this time. Gerald knew about your early living conditions as a child. The only reason he did anything is because he wanted to sleep with this Alana woman and somehow benefit from the ten grand a month. I’m sorry.”
She put her arm through his as they walked around to the car. “It’s history now, Nick. Let it go. I think I have. But I need to ask you one thing.”
A fear gurgled up in his throat. “What’s that?”
“You didn’t decide to get back in touch with me after all this time because you have only six months to live or something like that, did you?”
He scratched his head and grinned. “Not that I know of. Besides, you’re in luck; we Tylers’ have a history of living a long and prosperous life.”
With that, she put her arm around his waist. Then there’s one more thing I need to ask. “Did they feed you in there? Because Kit and Gloria are terrific cooks and they’re making this huge pot roast with those little baby carrots and plenty of potatoes and gravy.”
Reese let out a laugh. “Better get used to it, Tyler. Your daughter genuinely loves her food.”
Back at Crandall House, Nick found himself surrounded by a close, tightknit group of Quinn’s friends. These same friends had been there with her at the law office to show their support. Some had even been there for her during those tough years of living with Ross Jennetti and Ella Canyon.
There were enough people milli
ng about the place to remind him of the family he’d left behind at his farm. He’d already taken the time to walk to the cliffs and back, to gaze out over the harbor at the setting sun as it dropped into blue ocean and had to admit he was a bit homesick for Ireland.
But nothing could make him leave Quinn now, no matter how he pined for home. How incredibly lucky could one man get in his lifetime, he wondered. While he stood there looking out at the little fishing village below, not so unlike his Ballybrack, he thought of how his daughter had turned into an incredible young woman. And he had absolutely nothing to do with getting her to this point in her life. He turned to go back inside with the unwavering determination to change that.
While waiting for his hostess to get dinner on the table, Nick took a tour of the downstairs. When he spotted the baby grand piano sitting by the window in the massive living room, he went over to the instrument like a moth drawn to flame. As it had since the age of ten, the keyboard pulled at the musician in him like a habit that refused to let go.
He sat down on the bench and started fingering the keys.
At the touch, notes lilted the air. Soon he had an audience. Nick glanced up, saw his daughter staring at him. He’d have to get used to that face, he supposed, so like Lisa’s, just as Quinn would his.
His hands dropped to his sides as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Don’t stop,” Quinn suggested. “I recognize the song you were playing, Girl by the Sea.”
He studied her expression, trying to gauge if he should tell her. “I wrote it for you. I don’t expect you to believe me, but it was right after your visit.”
“I still dream about that day. I never truly believed it actually happened.”
“I wanted you to stay with me, Quinn. I didn’t want you to leave that day. I simply didn’t act on it. My parents gave me grief about it for a bit of time afterward, especially my Da. He died this past Easter.”
Quinn wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry.” But then realization dawned. “So you made this pilgrimage because of him?”