by Roze, Robyn
Kat freed herself from Tucker’s embrace. “I need to grab something before we leave.”
****
The days following the imbroglio after the reading of Henry James’s will had been brutal. The media loved a good scandal, even where one didn’t really exist. And through it all, Tucker had remained at Kat’s side, had provided counsel, a strong shoulder, and a steady arm to guide her through the crush of cameras, the flurry of questions, and the sting of accusations. Tucker Williams had done what no one else ever had. He’d made Kat believe in someone other than herself; he’d made her trust someone other than herself.
For that feat, and for so much more, she had thanked the stars above each and every night as she’d watched him sleep while in the grips of her own insomnia. The caress of his warm breath on her skin, the tug of his arm pulling her closer in the dark, and the steady beat of his heart coaxed her to join him in peace, away from the madness, night after night.
But this she had to do alone. She didn’t know what she’d find when she went inside. She just knew, for now, she needed to keep it to herself. Above all else, she needed to be careful. And she’d taken precautions on the journey to Queens to shake off anyone who might be interested in her whereabouts. Over the past few weeks, she’d become accustomed to entering buildings through the front and exiting out the back, then walking a few blocks in a sea of people to hail a different taxi or take the subway.
She snorted in disdain. There had to be countless more important things to report in the papers than the feuding within the James family. It was a ridiculous waste of newsprint and cyberspace. Of course, when people within the family hand-fed gossip and specious stories to the media, or had them planted by others, it served to fan the flames.
She inserted the key she’d recovered from the book in her father’s study and then tripped the lever to operate the motor-driven door. She glanced up and down the hallway, her eyes stumbling across the worn, slime-green paint, not at all enhanced by the fluorescent tubes flickering above. She smirked at the surveillance camera tucked in the corner of the quadrant where her father’s storage unit resided on the map the manager had provided.
The withered banner she’d seen draped across the rundown building had advertised climate-controlled units. Kat doubted the claim. The indoor temperature felt downright tropical. She swiped away the perspiration above her lip and closed her eyes, allowing the complaining roll-up door the extra time it needed to complete its task.
For a brief moment in the humid corridor she questioned her decision to leave Tucker behind, but then she renewed her conviction. He needed space to concentrate on his own problems. She knew he would spend most of the day on calls and video conferences—issues with a mine inspection, the IRS opening an investigation into Diamond Industries, and Hank suffering a mild stroke. Claire had assured them Hank would be fine, that he’d be as good as new in no time. Tucker seemed to have taken the avalanche of bad news, his and hers, in stride.
The door finally grumbled to a halt, and Kat reached in to flip on the light. Two fluorescents buzzed to life overhead. Her eyes agreed with her wrinkled-up nose when she spotted cardboard boxes with telltale signs of water damage. Her father’s unfinished transfer from cardboard to plastic storage containers was evident in the cluttered space.
Then she saw the small table and chair. A leather-bound journal sat on top with an envelope as he’d said it would be. She stepped closer and saw Katie scrawled in his choppy hand across the white rectangle. Her lungs locked, her heart ticked up a beat, and a bead of sweat trickled between her breasts. She stepped closer, reached for the envelope, and ignored the shake in her hand. She released the breath she’d been holding and traced the sharp strokes of her name with a nervous finger. Her face was marked with trepidation, and resolve, even as her stomach tilted in warning.
Things were about to get worse.
Tucker grabbed another bottle of beer and slammed the refrigerator shut. The shake, rattle, and roll from inside caused him to stop, take a deep breath, and release the tension on the count of ten. Then his boot stomped down on the foot lever of the trash can before he thumbed the cap off on top of the waste inside. He stalked to a window, pulled back the sheer curtain, and scanned the area. He took a long pull of the ice-cold brew. Nothing but buildings and people as far as the eye could see. He let the curtain fall back into place and then dropped down in the nearby club chair with an irritated sigh. He took another swig from the bottle and rubbed at the lines etched across his forehead.
The shit had hit the fan from all sides. His name had popped up in more news stories this week about Kat and her family, insinuating his past had somehow tainted Kat. Had he helped her swindle her family? Helped her coerce her father into leaving her with controlling interest in JAMESCO and a disproportionate share of his estate? Certainly sounded familiar, didn’t it? The press harped on the similarities, the coincidences. Would Tucker then turn around and scam Kat in order to rid himself of his own problems back home? He dragged his hand down his troubled face, tried to shake off the tabloid dirt. Nobody seemed to like the truth anymore, because speculation, rumors, and lies sold more papers, more online subscriptions.
His eyes skipped around the room and landed on a picture of him and Kat, cheeks pressed together, smiles wide. The selfie they’d taken in the stands at a Yankees game, a lifetime ago it now seemed. His lids dropped. The accusations her family had made after the will reading had conveniently leaked their way into the papers. No surprise there. But hearing it in private and seeing it in print were two different things. Tucker had been down this road many times, and knowing the truth from the lies didn’t make the situation any easier to handle. But Kat had told him to let it go. She knew her family wanted to pressure her with the hype of a scandal so she’d throw in the towel and disclaim her interest in JAMESCO and anything else they deemed went beyond her fair share. He’d lost count of how many times she said, “They can all just kiss my ass.”
He slid down in the chair, spun the almost empty bottle on his knee, and watched the golden liquid swirl and slosh around the bottom. Kat’s family weren’t the only ones causing problems. He’d had one principal enemy for thirty years now. A devoted adversary, a prick of the highest order who stirred the pot every chance he got, just like now. Tucker’s jaw clenched tight.
His whole life had amounted to one shitstorm after another, and he’d always hunkered down, had ridden through them all. He’d no more than get out of one and he’d feel the surge of the next storm brewing over the horizon. All he’d ever had to look forward to were the clear skies in between those turbulent times.
Until Kat James had stepped into his path on that rainy day. The day he’d dared to think the worst had been put to rest, had felt for the first time a long-overdue dry spell had finally headed his way. He chuckled out loud at the absurdity and then he was pissed. His face darkened. He should’ve known better.
He glanced up at the wall clock. He thought Kat would’ve been home by now. He pulled out his phone to call her but decided to make another call first. Get it out of the way.
His lip jerked up in loathing as he waited for the call to connect.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Headline News himself.”
Tucker flinched. “Havin’ fun, Cam?” His ice-cold stare burned straight ahead.
“Oh, now, you know how much I enjoy current events. Especially when they’re at your expense.” He sniggered and Tucker heard the draw of a cigarette.
“I was just thinkin’ about you, Cam, and all the fun we’ve had over the years.”
The gravel of a smoker’s laugh spilled across the airwaves. “Yes, we certainly have, haven’t we?” Another deep draw. “I’d say fuckin’ Molly Lancaster was one of my all-time favorites. That was a real win-win. The look on your face was priceless.” He chuckled. “Etched in my memory, and worth all the dental work after.” Tucker’s jaw ticked. “You were all soft on that girl, weren’t you?”
Tuc
ker’s fingers pounded an angry beat on the armrest. “Aw, Cam, what did I really know back then? I can see it for what it was now. You takin’ out the trash, that’s all. You were just doin’ me a favor. That’s what brothers are for, right?” Cameron snorted. “Can’t tell ya how much I appreciate that, and how happy I am you’re the one payin’ child support. Even though you tried your best to pin it on me.” Cameron muttered a string of unintelligible words. “And who would know the smell of trash better than you? That’s where you waste all your time diggin’ around lookin’ for any little bit of anything. And when you can’t find anything? Well, you just make shit up.” Tucker sighed in exasperation, squeezed at his forehead. “It’s time to return the favor, brother. I should have a long time ago.”
“Is that some kind of weak-ass threat, Williams?”
Tucker filled the room with humorless laughter. “Pressed record as soon as you saw who was callin’, right?”
His tormentor spat in disgust. “Hardly matters. You’re gonna be up to your eyeballs in shit so fast you won’t know which end is up. I just hope this time you choke on it.”
“I wouldn’t celebrate just yet. I always end up on top. You should know that better than anyone, with my boot print branded on your ass!”
“Fuck you, Williams! You’re gonna have inspectors and Feds so far up your ass, you’ll wish your junkie whore of a mother had never sold you!”
Tucker’s lungs stopped midbreath. His grip on the cell tightened to the breaking point, his focus pinpointing all his fury like a laser. He should’ve left the son of a bitch to die all those years ago. He released his bottled rage in a slow exhale, followed by a measured inhale that always managed to pull some of the expelled rancor back inside.
“Get your house in order, Cam. Your time’s almost up.” The icy chill in his tone cut with clean precision. He ended the call with a jab to the screen, shutting down the incoherent bluster on the other end.
Then he waited like a statue. Waited for the buzz in his ears to stop, the tightness in his chest to abate, the relentless pound of his pulse to slow. His eyes flicked back to the photo of him and Kat. Happier times, better days. He felt the razor-sharp edges soften, the bite of words and the sting of memories dissolve into the shadows. He could do this. He could reel it in—for her. For the future he wanted, and the woman he wanted to spend it with.
****
Kat’s eyes darted around the concrete space, strewn papers, old photos, and medical records scattered about. She looked down at the coroner’s report now quivering in her hand. The walls felt like they were closing in on her. A bead of sweat streamed down her face. Or was it a tear? She dropped the papers and swiped under her eyes.
As she towered in judgment above her family’s secrets, she eyed her father’s journal. His words were a jumbled mess fighting for equal time in her brain. However, one sentence screamed louder than all the others right now: She loved you more than anything. Kat gulped in air as if she were drowning, suffocating under the weight of emotions, images, and betrayals. She needed to focus. She needed to be in control.
She closed her eyes and pictured Tucker, her business, her goals. Everything she’d worked hard for, everything that mattered. As her erratic breathing calmed, her lashes lifted with a flutter. A bored voice echoed over the PA system, announcing the facility’s closure in a half hour. Kat surveyed the mess she’d made as she’d unearthed one lie after another in this muggy tomb.
She pushed off the wall and in stiff movements dumped cardboard contents into empty plastic containers. She made quick work of collecting all the loose papers and returned the small humid area back to some semblance of organization. She hated leaving any of it here, but had been told by her father in their final conversation, and again in his letter, it would keep her safe. He wanted her to be safe, to be smart.
Those words, spoken and written, clamored in her head, although she already knew her idea of how to stay safe wasn’t exactly the same as his. Unlike her father, she had no qualms about bringing the James family to their knees. She’d relish dragging them through the mud, kicking and screaming all the way.
She desperately needed to right her world, now hanging precariously on the edge, the truth now having colored everything in its cold, unforgiving brushstrokes, including a swipe across her heart.
Kat watched the door grind closed on what seemed like someone else’s life. Couldn’t be hers. Could it? A part of her wanted to hold on to the life she’d known before today. That part of her wanted to wake up tomorrow still perplexed by her mother’s aloofness and Parker’s animosity.
Her life had bisected without warning. And from this point on, there would only be her life before stepping into this storage room, and her life after.
She yanked the taxi door shut as the first fat raindrops pelted the window. The driver merged into traffic, headed to the Queens Plaza Station while Kat swiped and scrolled through her phone. Tucker had left voice and text messages, but the reception had been nonexistent inside the hive of concrete walls. Just as well. She didn’t know what to say, what not to say. She needed time to think, alone. She fired off a text so he wouldn’t worry. Told him not to wait up, it would be late before she got back, and then switched her phone to airplane mode.
Heavy traffic and rain-slicked streets made for a slow trek to the subway terminal, but Kat used the time to reboot her brain. Get back online somehow. But no combination of keystrokes seemed able to reset the endless loop running in her brain.
After riding the line with its stinging stench and rocking locomotion, she’d hailed another cab and now found herself outside the plaza where J&P Enterprise occupied space high above. Kat shielded her eyes from the sun as it slid free from the clouds above, the humidity clinging to her skin in the early summer evening.
She entered the building and rode the elevator to her floor, staring at her reflection in the shiny doors, scrutinizing the stranger’s face glaring back at her. The doors slid open to a gush of refreshing, cooler air. Distraction and confusion stretched tight across her face, she entered J&P, keyed in the security code around the corner, and headed for her office. She dropped her bag on the bureau behind her desk and plopped down in her chair. Her eyes roamed the stacks of files and papers littering her desktop. The blinking message light on her direct line drew her attention along with the paper messages piled next to her phone. She’d neglected work since her father died—and left her with a target on her back. Lawyers had counseled her on her rights regarding Henry James’s will, and she would bring the hammer down on her brothers. But she hadn’t yet. There’d been too much to process, not to mention the unexpected void she still felt from missing a man she hadn’t even known that well. A man who had become even more of a stranger after the revelations in the storage room today.
She swiped away unruly hair from her eyes and slipped the strands behind her ears. How could she ever manage to keep up with her own business and clean up her family’s mess at the same time? She shook off the doubts and plowed with single-minded determination through the paperwork. She returned emails and rearranged her work calendar, blocking off sections of time and days she would need to spend at JAMESCO. Delegation would be the key at J&P. And she had a bright staff who could handle the additional responsibilities.
She already knew Parker and Charlie would do everything in their power to make her time at JAMESCO as difficult as possible. They would do anything to distract her, to cause her failure at both companies. But they didn’t know she was counting on their conceit to help her pull the rug out from under them. And Kyle? Well, he’d ignored her after the fiasco at the reading of their father’s will. And he was conveniently out of town, again.
Kat swiveled in her seat, dug her cell out of her bag, and circled back to flop her feet on top of her desk. She reclined, scrolling through her contacts. She landed on a handsome face, a number she’d promised herself she’d never call again: Dan Walsh. Christ, he was going to love winning their bet.
S
he contemplated hiring him to investigate JAMESCO back when she was still in Montana. But that was before her father’s death pushed her down a different track, toward the secrets and lies in the storage unit ... Now she needed Dan more than ever. He’d been a police officer turned private investigator, had made quite a name for himself back in the day. Now he ran a highly successful security firm with upscale clientele and a pricey menu of services and high-end monitoring systems. He’d always wanted to be a business owner, call the shots, and he’d made his dream come true. Dan Walsh was a man who knew how to get things done.
After the fourth ring he answered.
“Kat! How the hell are you?”
He was joking, right? He’d sent a sympathy card and flowers. She’d noticed him squeezed in at the back of the church; they’d even made eye contact before he’d ducked out.
“How the hell do you think I am, Dan? My father not only died but he left me with a stinking pile of shit to clean up.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about your father. I know it’s tough. And,” he cleared his throat, “you are a tabloid darling right now. Kind of hard to miss.”
“I want to make that go away.”
“How?”
“That’s why I’m hiring you.”
“Damn, I was hoping this was a personal call.”
She knew he was serious but trying to sound lighthearted.
“Well, you’ve seen the pictures. You know I’m with someone.” She felt confident he’d kept his distance at the funeral because of Tucker.
“Not the kind of guy I ever pictured you with.”
“Yeah, I know who you pictured me with.” She smiled for the first time today, at him, and at the memories, most of which were good. “I need you to put your skills to work for me.” She paused, closed her eyes, and mustered her strength. “I need your help, Dan.”