But when they tried to ask it, they got no answers. They were paid to rough him up. They were paid by Lou Fontaine. She never gave them a reason why.
Jenay looked at Charles. And Charles, understanding the implications, went over to his secretary’s desk, and called the cops.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The two intruders ducked down their heads as they were both placed into patrol cars. Brent spoke briefly with his officers, who were first on the scene, and then made his way inside his father’s office building.
Charles was seated on the edge of his secretary’s desk as Jenay brought him a cup of coffee. She had just gotten off of her cellphone.
“Who was that?” Charles asked as Brent made his way toward them.
“Tony,” she said. “He’s still with Bonita, but he heard about the break-in. At least, that’s what he was told it was.”
“And let’s keep it that way,” Brent said, “until I can interrogate both men and get a sense of what’s really going on.”
“They haven’t asked for lawyers yet?” Jenay asked.
“Brent better not let them pull that shit,” Charles said. “We need answers first.”
“We’ll get them, don’t worry,” Brent said. “But I still don’t know why they would say Lou Fontaine was behind it.”
“Probably because she was,” Jenay said.
Charles and Brent looked at her. “How could you figure that?” Charles asked. “This is so beneath what a Fontaine would do that I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around it.”
“I can wrap mine around it,” Jenay said.
“How so?” Brent asked.
Jenay leaned against the desk Charles sat up on. They were so close that Jenay’s folded arms was leaned against Charles’s arm. “Charles has the most power in town, at least in terms of land rights. His son is the interim mayor. His other son is police chief. And his wife runs the largest hotel in town. Maybe she was tired of taking a backseat to newbies like us. Maybe she wants in too now.”
Charles nodded his head. “That’s possible,” he said. “But what exactly is she trying to get into? Work? Because that’s all we do day and night, while her ass hasn’t worked since the day she was born. What would she want in on?”
Brent shook his head. “I don’t know. But don’t approach her until I’ve had a chance to interrogate Cheech and Chong out there. Then we’ll go up to the big house and see her together.”
Jenay smiled. “The big house,” she said, and shook her head. “Sounds like a plantation.”
Charles laughed. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”
But Brent looked at his father. “There was a knife,” he said. “Do you think they were here to do more than rough you up?”
Charles shook his head. “I don’t think so, no. One of them had a knife, but I could see he was hesitant to use it. She probably told them to rough up, but not kill. But I could be wrong.”
“Since when?” Brent asked, and Jenay laughed.
“Do you know either one of them, Brent?” she asked. “They look like crooks from way back.”
“They are, I’m willing to bet that too,” Brent responded. “But they don’t have any records since they’ve lived in Jericho. So, no, I don’t know them. But I will before the end of this night. Nobody comes for my father without coming for me, too.”
Jenay smiled. The first time she met Charles, his sons seemed to worship the ground he walked on. Whereas most young men wouldn’t want their father within pissing distance of them, Charles’s sons followed him around, and wanted to be with him above being with their own peers. That kind of affection was new to Jenay. But once she fell in love with Charles, she understood it too. Here on earth, he was the center of all of their universes.
“And other than what they told you, about Lou Fontaine, you don’t have anybody else who could have had it in for you?” Brent asked his father.
Charles chuckled. “Only about half this town,” he said. And then he thought about it. “And Percy Diallo.”
Jenay looked at Brent. She was surprised that Brent seemed to know Percy’s name; that Charles had discussed him. Then she looked at Charles. “You think Percy could have had something to do with this?” she asked.
“You don’t?” Brent asked her.
“No,” Jenay said. “Of course not! Percy wouldn’t result to this pettiness.”
“But he’ll claim he’s dead for his pride sake,” Charles said, “and that’s not petty?”
But Jenay still wasn’t convinced. “I just don’t see it. He was here to see if he could rekindle something. I’ll give you that. But once we united and made it clear to him that that wasn’t going to happen, that was over. He was over me I’m sure. But whatever. Look into it, Brent. I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
Charles was glad that Jenay at least left open the possibility. “Right,” he said. “And call me tonight if you find out anything,” he added, to Brent.
“No matter what time?” Brent asked.
“I don’t care how late,” Charles said, “if you find out something I need to know.”
“Yes, sir,” Brent said as he closed a writing/ witness statement pad he didn’t write in. “I’d better get to the station and get on with it. I’ll see you guys later.”
“Don’t work too late,” Jenay said to him. “You have a wife and a son who would like to see your pretty face at least sometime before the night is through.”
Brent glanced at his father to see if he told his stepmother about his situation with Makayla. He could tell, in his father’s eyes, that he had. He looked at Jenay. “She’s leaving next week,” he said.
“Yes, I heard.”
Brent continued to stare at her. “What do you have to say about it?” he asked.
Jenay hesitated. She knew Brent wanted her on his side. And she would never go against her children. But right is still right. “Listen to your father,” she said. “That’s what I have to say about it.”
Brent exhaled. He should have known that would be her answer. Those two, his father and Jenay, never went against each other in public. Privately, they were at each other’s throats like everybody else, Brent was willing to bet. But they tried their best to never display any public animosity.
“See you guys later,” he said again.
“Remember to come to dinner tomorrow night,” Jenay said. “Last family dinner only Tony showed up. I want everybody showing up tomorrow night. No excuses. And that includes Makayla.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brent said. “I’ll be sure to come. As for Makayla? You’ll have to ask her yourself.”
“No, you’re going to ask her,” Jenay corrected him, “and make sure she shows up.”
Brent looked at Jenay. Although they weren’t that far apart in age, and had more of a friendship than a mother-stepson relationship, he knew his father allowed no disrespect of his wife. Even from Brent. And the way Charles was looking at him, as if daring him to say an out-of-tune word to her, proved his point.
“Yes, ma’am,” Brent said, and left the storefront building.
Jenay looked at Charles. She wondered how different it could have turned out had she not been there to grab that gun, and wrapped her arms around him. Talk about a devastated family, she thought, if something were to happen to Charles.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The big house was exactly that: a house on a hill with an ancient castle look about it. The Fontaine estate dwarfed Charles’s estate, although the acreage was half of what he possessed, but it was still, hands down, the most recognizable and iconic estate in Jericho. And as Charles’s Jaguar drove up the driveway toward the front entrance, it was obvious why.
“Age,” Charles said to Jenay, who sat on the passenger seat. Brent sat in the backseat, in the middle, leaned forward. It had been many years since he had to take a backseat to anyone.
“That’s the difference,” Charles continued. “Age. It’s rundown. Could use a coat of paint. But it’s still the main estate in town.
It’s still considered the biggest house in Jericho, although it’s not by many miles. But that’s what age gets you: that good old thing called reputation.”
Brent smiled. “You mean like your rep as a ruthless sonafabitch?”
Jenay laughed.
“Exactly so,” Charles said. “And don’t laugh. It keeps these won’t-pay-their-rent lay-abouts around here from laying-about on me. They know I’m an asshole and won’t hesitate to show it.” Then he exhaled. “But I still don’t understand why Lou Fontaine would have two pissheads try to piss on me.”
“And neither one of those rogues could shed any light on it,” Brent said. “They were paid, a thousand bucks each, to rough you up. That’s all they claim to know.”
“But the big question still remains why,” Jenay said.
Charles nodded and glanced at her. She was leaned back, with her legs crossed, looking so sexy, he thought. “That’s the question,” he said, agreeing with her.
An old liveried butler met them at the front entrance, and opened the car door for Jenay. Jenay stepped out, while Charles walked around to assist her. He was not looking forward to this meeting. He knew how people like the Fontaines felt about him. He just didn’t want those assholes to try to show that obnoxious disdain toward his wife.
“Right this way, sirs,” the butler said, “and ma’am.”
They followed the old man up the steps, into the house, and across the wide foyer. Jenay looked at Charles. It smelled of old wet clothes at the entrance.
“You would think they could afford a better maid,” she whispered to her husband.
“They can,” Charles whispered back. “They’re just too cheap to get one.”
Jenay smiled. “The thrifty rich,” she said. “Probably why they stay rich.”
Charles smiled. “Now you get it,” he said playfully, and placed his arm around her waist as they were escorted into a room off from the foyer in the front of the house: the library.
“Miss Fontaine will be with you shortly,” the butler said, and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
“Is it me,” Brent asked, “or does this place smell like old wet clothes?”
Charles and Jenay laughed. “It’s not you,” Charles said.
But they didn’t have time to say much more because, as if she had been waiting to come in all along, the door opened almost immediately and the dame herself, Louise Latimore Fontaine walked in.
What struck Jenay as soon as she entered was the fact that she didn’t look as frail in person as she often looked whenever she was passing by in her limousine, or on television during some charity event. She looked right spry in person. And she had a very arresting smile.
“Charles, hello,” she said, extending her hand as she came toward them. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.” Charles found her fake affection a little off-putting. He couldn’t be fake if he tried.
“And Chief,” Lou said to Brent, shaking his hand. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. And you?”
“I’m good, thank you. Now what can I do for you gentlemen?”
No shade, Jenay wanted to say to that old woman. But that’s shady!
But she had Charles to fight her battles. He pushed her slightly forward. “I don’t think you’ve met my wife. This is Jenay Sinatra.”
“Oh, yes, of course! How rude of me.” She extended her hand. “How are you, Mrs. Sinatra?”
“I’m okay.” Jenay sounded as dry as Charles. She didn’t have a fake bone in her body, either.
“Sit down, all of you,” Lou insisted. “What would you care to drink?”
“Nothing for us,” Charles said as he escorted Jenay to the sofa. Given her potential connection to that break-in, he didn’t want any of them poisoned. He was also careful to keep Jenay as close to him as he possibly could. This woman was not going to hurt her the way she allegedly tried to hurt him.
They sat down, with Charles and Brent sandwiching Jenay between them.
Lou sat down, too. “Now,” she said, with her hands resting primly on her lap, “what is it that I can do for you?” She was looking directly at the head of this clan, as she saw it: Charles.
“You can start by telling us why did you send those two guys to my office,” Charles said.
At first it looked as if Lou was not going to deny it. It looked as if she was going to fess right up. But then she seemed to stop herself. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why did I what?”
“Two men entered my father’s office last night,” Brent said. “There was an altercation. After my father got the better of the situation, they told him you sent them.”
Lou smiled. “I sent them there?” she asked, placing her small hand over her heart. “Why in the world would I send two men over to your father’s office to get into some skirmish with him?”
“They said you sent them there to rough him up,” Brent said. “Is it true?”
“No, it’s not true!” Lou said. “You know me better than that!”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Charles said bluntly. “We don’t know shit about you. We know your name. We know your family background. We know you live in this museum. But that’s all we know. I want to know why two guys I’ve never seen before in my life would walk into my office and attempt to beat me down. And I say attempt because that shit didn’t work. Just like your denial isn’t working either.”
Brent’s cell phone began to ring. He pulled out his phone, saw on the Caller ID that it was the station, and stood and walked away from the others, answering the call as he did.
“So you want to tell us just what the hell is going on, Lou?” Charles asked.
Jenay could see a change come over the older woman. She took one of her wrinkled hands and removed an escaped hair out of her face from the bun she wore.
“Who are they, Miss Fontaine?” Jenay asked.
“I don’t know them either,” Lou finally said. “I don’t even know their names.”
“But you hired them?” Charles asked.
Lou hesitated. Then nodded. “Yes,” she said.
Brent’s call had already ended, as it was on an unrelated matter, but he remained where he stood when Lou started answering. He didn’t want to interrupt her, or give her any excuse to stop.
“I hired them,” Lou confessed. “But only because I had to.”
“You had to?” Charles asked. “What does that mean? Somebody forced you to hire them?”
“Nobody forces me to do anything! Of course no one forced me. But it was the only way I could get back at you.”
Charles stared at her. “Back at me for what?” he asked.
“For what you did to her.”
When she said her, Charles hesitated. And then frowned. “You mean Meredith?” he asked.
“Of course I mean Meredith. Who else am I going to mean? You ruined my daughter’s life with your flippancy. And I felt you needed to pay for what you did.”
Jenay looked at Charles. Who was Meredith, and what flippancy was Lou talking about, she wondered?
But she didn’t have to wonder long. “I dated your daughter for a few months. And then we broke up.”
“After she caught you with another woman,” Lou pointed out.
“We broke up,” Charles said, “before I even married Jenay. That was years ago! What in the world does my breaking up with Mel have to do with your decision to send two guys to rough me up?”
Lou swallowed hard. “She died this week,” she said.
Charles’s heart dropped. He had not expected to hear that.
“She died all alone in some rundown motel in Atlantic City. That’s where she took herself after you broke her heart. She gambled and drank all those years away, and died all alone. Thanks to you. And I needed you to understand the pain you caused. Your father was a good-for-nothing. Your grandfather was a good-for-nothing. And you’re the worse of them all.”
Jenay could tell Charles was upset by the news. She could even h
ear a change in his breathing rhythm. And then he stood up, and began to pace around the room, rubbing the nape of his neck with his hand.
But he wasn’t as disturbed about news of his ex-lover’s death as Jenay and Brent might have thought. Meredith made her own choices and he wasn’t taking the blame for any of them. That wasn’t what caused him to rise. He was disturbed about Lou. Something about her manner made it clear as day to him that something else was at work here.
But Lou continued with her story. “So, yes,” she said as he paced, “I asked two of the men who did yard work on the estate to pay you a visit. They would be paid after the job was done.”
“And what was the job?” Brent asked from across the room.
Lou looked at him. “Their job was to beat him up,” she said. “And I don’t mean a little bit. I mean severely. I wanted him hospitalized from his injuries. I wanted them to stop just short of taking his life, because I wanted him to suffer too.”
Jenay and Brent both understood how devastating a broken heart could be, and how a mother could hold a grudge that deep. But Charles had stopped walking and was staring at Lou. And he wasn’t buying it. “Now tell us the truth,” he said to her.
Everybody looked at him. Especially Lou. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“I’m talking about this song-and-dance bullshit you’re giving us about Meredith.”
“I loved my daughter!” Lou insisted.
“I didn’t say you didn’t love her,” Charles fired back. “But she had nothing to do with what happened last night.”
Brent was about to interject and explain to Lou that she’d just confessed to a crime by admitting to hiring men to assault his father, and he would determine the veracity of her tale once he had her downtown at the station. But then Lou’s look changed again. And it looked to all of them as if she was going to change her story too.
But she couldn’t. Because as soon as she was about to open her mouth, the sound of a bullet ricocheting could be heard, as if it had entered the room and bounced off a wall as a warning shot. And then sound of rapid gunfire took over.
Big Daddy Sinatra: Charles In Charge (Big Daddy Sinatra Series Book 6) Page 8