by Josie Brown
“Would you put your Jade in that category?” Bettina asked. Seeing him wince, Bettina smirked, “I thought not. Nor your Ally. Nor Jillian Frederick.”
“Jade, Ally, and Jillian could take it or leave it,” he assured her. “However, if the BFZ gets funding, my guess is that you’ll take what AOZ has to offer and never look back.”
Before she could retort, Brady’s cell phone buzzed.
He stared down at it. “It’s Olivia.”
Bettina felt the breath go out of her body. It didn’t flow back in until after Brady answered his phone, greeted Olivia almost too robustly, and listened intently, all the while grinning broadly. “Yes, Olivia, we were just now crossing the bridge…turn around? Give me a very good reason why we should…All of it? Well then, yes, we’ll pull over on Alexander Avenue and turn this car around.” He gave Bettina a jubilant thumbs-up. “Have your attorney call mine to start the paperwork. It’s Barry Simon.”
Hearing Barry’s name, Bettina rolled her eyes. But she waited until Brady hung up before muttering, “Your attorney is your girlfriend’s faux husband? My, my! What an incestuous life you lead.”
“Barry isn’t just my attorney. He’s yours as well. And when all is said and done, you’ll be glad he is. He’s one of the industry’s best dealmakers.”
Bettina shrugged. “I guess one doesn’t have to like one’s attorney in order to retain him.”
“One only has to pay his very expensive retainer,” Brady assured her. “Speaking of lawyers you love to hate, how are things going with that Warwick guy?”
Bettina frowned. “I haven’t heard from him since…since New Year’s Eve. I think he’s figured out that I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
Brady laughed. “I swear, he didn’t hear it from me.”
Bettina rolled her eyes. “Glad to hear it. Even so, there are others more than willing to bend his ear on the evil doings of Bettina Connaught.”
“In a month or two, it won’t matter what others say. You can laugh all the way to the bank.”
Bettina winced. “Speaking of banks, what are the chances that I can get an advance on my shares, or however money changes hands in the BitCoin era?”
“BitCoin?” Brady shook his head. “Bite your tongue! But seriously, Bettina, it would be better if you could bide your time until everything is signed, sealed, and delivered. I’m guessing a month, tops.”
She did the math in her head. Today was the sixth of January. The auction was on February fourteenth. It would be tight, but still doable.
Bettina nodded stoically. It's Art's last Valentine's gift to me, she thought wryly. Play it cool.
He signaled their waitress. “I’d say this calls for a glass of champagne, don’t you?”
Bettina shrugged. “I don’t know… Okay, I guess a sip won’t hurt the baby.”
In truth, she was thrilled, but she refused to demean herself by revealing that simple fact. Finally, she could support Lily and herself without dipping into the Connaught largesse.
Just as importantly, she could tell Art to get lost—and never come back.
When the champagne came, she tapped her glass against Brady’s with such alacrity that he chuckled, “Here’s to our mutual success, partner!”
By the time Brady dropped Bettina on Lorna and Matthew’s doorstep, she was floating on a cloud.
Euphoria faded at the pinging sounds coming from her cell phone. She glanced down at it:
Twenty-two texts!
All were from Mallory Wickett.
Talk about buzz kill.
She held off ringing the front doorbell in order to read the first of Mallory’s missives:
Lorna put it to a vote! Men are now allowed to attend the meetings! Blasphemy! Insanity! Apocalypse!
What the…?
Bettina slammed her fist on the door until it opened.
Lorna stood there. She was holding a bottle for Dante.
“How dare you,” Bettina hissed.
Lorna’s shoulders sagged. “I take it you heard from one of the other club members that a vote was taken to—”
“One member? My phone hasn’t quit buzzing!” Bettina glared at Lorna. At this point, lies didn’t matter. It was all-out war. “First, you twisted our arms to accept single women and working women! We have so many women that the damned club is now a free-for-all. And now we’re accepting men too?” She shook her finger in Lorna’s face. “What precipitated such madness on your part?”
“As it turns out, two of the mothers who couldn’t make the meeting sent their men in their stead,” Lorna explained. “Not only were they welcomed, a few of the members thought to ask if a vote could be taken to allow spouses or significant others to periodically substitute—just substitute, mind you!—in cases of extreme emergencies. That way, the children would not miss out.”
“And you allowed the vote to take place without asking me first?” Bettina shouted.
Lorna’s eyes narrowed. “Bettina, you chose not to come. Remember?”
Bettina crossed her arms under her chest. “And just which members would even deem to suggest such an aberration?”
Lorna shrugged. “It was Kelly. Frankly, I thought it was insightful on her part.”
“You’re right about that,” Bettina declared. “Everything Kelly does has a purpose, I can assure you!”
“Mummy? What’s wrong?” Lily came running in from the living room. “Are you ill? Is that why you didn’t pick me up from school?”
“Me…Ill? No! No, dearest! I just needed…” Bettina could feel Lorna’s eyes scrutinizing her. “I needed to have the morning to myself, is all.”
Lorna raised a brow. “And because of this new club rule, anytime in the future you feel the need to take time for yourself, you can appoint a surrogate to cover for you, either with Lily, or the infant that will soon be joining us.”
Before Bettina boiled over again, Lorna added, “Lily, get your coat and school bag, dear. I’m sure your mother is looking forward to taking you home.”
Instead of saying goodbye, Lorna walked down the hall and into the nursery, shutting the door behind her.
When Lily came back, she had Matthew with her. He waited until the little girl ran out the door before growling to Bettina, “Lorna is covering your ass at the club—and I’m covering your ass with her. So lay off.”
Before Bettina could reply, he slammed the door in her face.
She repositioned her lips from a scowl to a smile before following Lily down the block.
He was sitting on the top step of Eleanor’s front portico.
Not Art, thank God, but Daniel Warwick.
By his frown, Bettina could tell something was bothering him.
Oh, Hell! They caught Art.
Oh, my God! If Art told him he visited me while Daniel was in the house, and I let him just walk away—
She’d be hauled into the jail cell next to him.
And they’d toss away the key.
My poor baby would be born in prison—and then they’ll take him away from me!
And Lily…
At the thought of her daughter’s reaction, Bettina almost fainted.
Seeing her stumble, Daniel ran to her. Holding her in his arms, he exclaimed, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Gently, he walked her to the steps, easing her onto the very first one. He then sat beside her.
Lily hovered close enough to pat her mother’s head.
“Lily, why don’t you take your mother’s key and open the door?” Daniel spoke casually, so as not to frighten the little girl. “If you could pour her a glass of water, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”
Bettina fumbled in her purse until she found her house key.
Lily took it and was inside in a flash.
He turned to Bettina. “Listen, before she gets back, I have some bad news.”
“I’m listening.” So that she didn’t have to look at the sadness in Daniel’s eyes, Bettina looked down at her belly.
“As ear
ly as Saturday morning, we had satellite confirmation that Art was at a villa in a high-end Cancun resort,” Daniel explained. “The owner listed on the villa’s property deed is the Connaught Trust.”
“That’s absurd!” Bettina exclaimed. Noting his grimace, she added, “Mr. Warwick, if you’re insinuating that any of the Connaughts are involved, or that we knew about this—this secret lair of my ex-husband’s, let me assure you that no Connaught has ever stepped foot in Mexico.” She shuddered. “Too hot! We Connaughts have delicate skin, or haven’t you noticed?”
He sighed “Bettina, trust me, I assumed as much, since the signature on the deed was Art’s, and he was notated as the trustee.”
Bettina nodded her satisfaction.
“I also needed to inform you that immediately, our people asked the Mexican government for extradition.”
“Huzzah! I commend your hard work on his victims’ behalf—myself included,” Bettina smirked.
He ignored that. “Bettina, there was a shootout at the villa. Apparently, it was a kidnapping that went off the rails.”
Bettina shook her head in awe. “Someone tried to kidnap Art?”
Daniel nodded. “Unfortunately, any intel Mexico gets about wealthy foreigners—especially those who are hiding from their own governments—seems to find its way to particular mob cartels. It’s made ransom into a very lucrative side business.”
“I don’t have the money to get him back!” she exclaimed. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t spend a plugged nickel on that idiot!”
“At this moment, it may be a moot point.” He glanced away. “What I’m trying to tell you, Bettina, is that…well, Art may be dead.”
Thank goodness, he was there to catch her when she fell.
Gently, he sat her up again. This time, though, he cradled her in his arms. “Bettina, until we get ahold of the corpse, for DNA analysis, we won’t know for sure.” He shrugged. “And from what they’ve told us, it’s in pretty bad shape, along with those of his guest.”
“Guest?” Angered, Bettina looked up. “Let me guess: his blond Swedish floozy was with him.”
“Yes,” Daniel admitted.
“Well then…I guess it’s over.”
“Soon.” Softly, he stroked her arm. “Of course, the embezzled funds are still missing.”
Bettina’s heart took a lurch. She fought the instinct to grasp the key on the chain around her neck.
Hoping she sounded nonchalant, she asked, “Does your offer for a reward still stand?”
Daniel tilted her head up so that he could look her in the eye. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”
“If you’re asking me if I know where Art hid the money, I’ll swear on a Bible right now that the answer is no,” she declared.
He frowned. “Then why would the reward interest you?”
“Because I’m in dire straits, and I want back what is mine—without it going to auction,” she retorted.
“I see.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, I can’t bend the rules. Not even for you. But, as I said before, anyone coming forward with the whereabouts of your husband–”
“Ex-husband,” she growled.
“Oh?” he smirked. “I hadn’t heard that the divorce was finalized.”
Bettina stood up, if only to stamp her foot in frustration. “Daniel, don’t be such a—a stickler!”
“You’re right, Bettina. I do and always will stick to the letter of the law. And if you have any knowledge of Art’s stash, you should be doing the same.”
“Why? Because it’ll earn me a pat on the head?”
“No. Because you owe it to those he stole from—including your mother.”
Bettina felt the heat rise in her cheeks. But before she could retort, Lily’s voice piped up behind them: “My mummy doesn’t lie…at least, not anymore.”
Bettina and Daniel turned to the little girl. “We have a pact. From now on, she only tells the truth.”
“Very honorable,” Daniel acknowledged. “Please then, ask your mother if she has any information regarding your father or the money he stole.”
“Mr. Warwick, she already gave you the answer. I heard her myself.”
At her daughter’s declaration, Bettina felt her cheeks heat up.
Daniel knelt beside Lily. “What else did you hear us say?”
Tears clouded the little girl’s eyes. “You told her that my father is dead.”
Bettina ran to Lily’s side. Taking both her daughter’s hands in hers, she murmured, “Darling, I know how hard it must be for you to hear that—”
Lily pushed her away. “Mummy, please…don’t! I know how he hurt you. I know how people hate him. I—I’m glad he’s dead.”
She ran inside, slamming the door behind her.
Bettina glared at Daniel. “You’ve delivered your message loud and clear. I think it’s best you go now.”
As she passed him, he held her arm. “Bettina, I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”
“No need. Everyone has a right to hate Art. Even Lily.”
He nodded. “And you, in particular.”
“You don’t see me crying, do you?” She pulled away. “I know it will be difficult, but on your next assignment, try to make a concerted effort to keep your suspects’ wives from falling in love with you. They will have been hurt enough, as is. If that isn’t incentive enough, at least consider your vow to quote unquote, ‘stick to the letter of the law’—unless the Department of Justice’s handbook has a chapter on how to seduce them.”
Before he could say another word, she walked into the house, closing the door behind her.
Lily had locked the door to their bedroom. She could hear her daughter sobbing.
Bettina’s own personal pity party took place in her old nursery. It lasted a half-hour. As she watched the sailboats crisscross San Francisco Bay, a thought came to her:
I wonder if there’s a way to trace the key back to the right safe deposit box?
Just in case.
In case the Bum Free Zone app went nowhere.
In case the Connaughts somehow found themselves tossed out of house and home, onto the mean streets of San Francisco.
Heaven knows, Matt’s ability to make money has always been hit or miss, she reasoned. The key could be my own little insurance policy.
She prayed she’d find the answer before the auction. Otherwise, she’d lose control of the club as well.
Depressed at the thought, she teared up again.
To stop from thinking, she curled up in her old bed and fell asleep.
Chapter Eight
Saturday, 24 January
9:23 a.m.
Kelly answered her cell phone call by snapping, “And what do you want?”
Kimberley stammered, “It’s just that…I was wondering what time you wanted me to slip out of Lorna’s baby shower—you know, in order to get to the Palace Hotel—”
Kelly growled, “You weren’t seriously considering going to Lorna’s shower, were you?”
“What? …Well, yes! I mean, I RSVP’d to Jillian’s invitation—”
“Doesn’t matter. No way in hell are you going,” Kelly warned her.
“Okay, already!” Kimberley was distressed at this demand. More so, she was disappointed. She had looked forward to enjoying the company of others who were far less stressful in her life than Kelly.
Then again, she’d presumed Kelly was going to be there anyway. To confirm her suspicion, sulkily, she asked, “I assume you’ll be there, though, right?”
“No, you idiot! I’ve got to take care of the final details for Bettina’s shindig, remember?” Sarcasm dripped from every word. “It’s why you’re allowed to take a leisurely morning off.”
Hurt, Kimberley countered, “Kelly, I told you I’d be glad to help you with anything you need—”
“And I told you exactly what I need: just you show up exactly at two-twenty-five to meet and greet your guests. Understand?”
Kelly didn’t wait for a response to clic
k off.
* * *
1:44 p.m.
“Why can’t I go to Aunt Lorna’s baby shower too?” Lily asked.
Bettina sighed. It broke her heart to leave Lily, for even a few hours. Despite her daughter’s professed indifference to her wayward father, Lily was anxious to hear if indeed Art was dead. It showed in her unusual silences, and in her lethargy toward the things that usually excited her: dancing around the house, teaching Prince Vsevolod new tricks, or discovering a Lemony Snicket book at the Golden Gate Library that she hadn’t already read.
The biggest tell of all occurred as Lily slept: she pulled on her hair. In the morning, small clumps of her hair could be found on her pillow.
“Believe me, I wish I didn’t have to go, either. But your grandmother insists on it.” Gently, Bettina stroked Lily’s hair. “Besides, there won’t be any other children there.”
Lily shrugged. “That doesn’t matter. Hera is sweet to want to stay with me, but I just don’t want to make her sad anymore.”
Her mother had no comeback for that. How could she? Like Bettina, Lily abhorred the sympathy of others.
Twisting her finger in her hair, Lily asked, “Mummy, the moment that Mr. Warwick knows for sure—you know, that it’s Father they found—you’ll tell me, right?”
Bettina hesitated before answering. But her initial instinct—to proclaim that Art had escaped to some tropical island far, far away—was squelched when Lily warned her: “Remember, you told me you would never lie to me.”
“Yes, I’ll tell you,” Bettina vowed solemnly.
She kissed Lily goodbye before following Eleanor out the door.
* * *
2:05 p.m.
Lorna’s shower is a full house, Eleanor noted.
Her silent head count of the guests in Jillian Frederick’s elegantly appointed Presidio Heights Victorian mansion ended somewhere around seventy. A quick glance at the number of gifts, wrapped both in pink and blue, confirmed it.
She’d made sure that she and Bettina were the first guests to arrive, even before Jillian’s co-planners: Ally, and Jade.