Dynasty

by Jen Davis et al.

  Christopher held up the index and middle fingers of his right hand. “Scout’s honor. I won’t go anywhere.”

  Chloe scoffed with amusement. “Like you were ever a Boy Scout.”

  They exchanged a quick smile as Chloe grabbed her purse and approached the front door of the bank.

  ***

  Mr. Wilkins, the bank manager, was a handsome man of middle years and a little more than curious about the stranger standing before him. Chloe guessed that the last time a stranger came into the bank was when Alice had been there a few months ago. She knew that if she didn’t cut his curiosity off at the knees, she would be there longer than she wanted to.

  “How can I help you, Ms. Riggs?”

  “A friend of mine was here a few months ago to obtain a safe deposit box. Number eighteen.”

  He raised a suspicious eyebrow. “I’m sorry. Box eighteen?”

  Chloe held up the key. “Box eighteen.”

  “Do you have identification?” he asked suspiciously.

  She could see she would have to revert to intimidation tactics with Mr. Wilkins just as she had done with others in the past. She got a flutter in the pit of her stomach because she knew she was good at it, and part of her enjoyed this game—after all, she had learned it from Matthew, a cold-hearted, malevolent man who enjoyed watching her make others twitch. “You will always get your way if you can remember this,” he told her once. “Knowing how to read your opponent will determine whether or not you win or lose, and I am not raising a loser.”

  She cracked a small but caustic smile and leaned forward, almost whispering in his ear. “The key is in the light.”

  He jerked his head back and his eyes were wide with surprise. Chloe’s tone was demanding and impatient, but she kept her body language calm enough so as not to arouse suspicion from anyone else in the bank. She raised her eyebrows to indicate she was waiting for an answer.

  With a shaky voice Wilkins replied, “Please, follow me.”

  She followed him into a separate and secure room lined with safe deposit boxes and a long table in the middle. Mr. Wilkins inserted his key into one of the locks of box eighteen then silently indicated to Chloe to insert her key as well. They both turned their keys at the same time and the door opened. Wilkins pulled the medium-sized metal box out of the wall and placed it on the table. He then took another key and opened the box, revealing the lock box stored inside, and turned to leave.

  “Please stay, Mr. Wilkins,” Chloe said as she removed the lock box and inspected it carefully, Mr. Wilkins watching her in wonder the whole time. The box was exactly the same as it had always been and there was no evidence that anyone had tried to unlock it. Alice had taken great care with it. Satisfied, Chloe put the lock box in her purse and turned to Mr. Wilkins. She had demands, and like it or not, he would follow them.

  “Has anyone else been here to try to claim this box?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She slightly narrowed her eyes at him to make him think she was deciding whether or not to believe him. “You may not be aware of this, Mr. Wilkins, but there are people who would have no reservations to cause considerable pain to get this box. I sincerely hope you are a fabulous liar, because if someone else comes looking for this box, you know nothing about it. You have never heard of anyone in possession of the box and you have no idea what you are being questioned for. There is a chance that you will experience pain you never thought possible if whomever you talk to doesn’t believe you. I’m not telling you this because it will happen, I’m telling you this because it might. I wouldn’t be too concerned about it, but I thought you should be warned either way. You have been paid well to watch over this box, but there will be no further payments now that I have it. There is no amount of money to protect you should someone be told that I have this box. I assume you understand what I’m saying.”

  Mr. Wilkins’s eyes were wide with fear as he slowly nodded his head.

  “Have a pleasant day, Mr. Wilkins.”

  Leaving Mr. Wilkins in a petrified stupor, Chloe walked out of the bank to go back to Louisiana, pack her bags, and meet her destiny.

  Chapter 45

  The crime scene in front of the courthouse was flooded with paramedics, fire trucks, and police trying to keep the crowd of people surrounding it out of the way. When Hunter approached, he saw a body covered by a dark blanket to keep the onlookers from seeing anything they shouldn’t, and couldn’t help but notice splashes of what could only be brain and blood surrounding the body. Even though it was almost full dark, the crowd of spectators was growing and the media was excited and arguing with police to try to get their stories.

  Hunter and Judd had been given the details on the drive from New Orleans—a woman in her early thirties, most likely drunk or high, jumped off the roof of the courthouse, which was an equivalent of eight stories. Construction equipment from repairs to the building were how she got to the roof. Nobody saw her go up, but someone saw her come down and called 911. Unfortunately, the mystery caller either wasn’t there anymore or was standing somewhere in the crowd, protecting their anonymity.

  Hunter and Judd were called to the crime scene for one specific reason—the victim had a black rose tattoo on her back. When the paramedics lifted the blanket to reveal her face, Hunter couldn’t give a positive identification, but from what Chloe had told him, and because of the tattoo, he knew exactly who she was.

  Judd stepped away to talk to an officer in an attempt to get more information and give Hunter a little space. Hunter’s gaze focused on the roof and the construction equipment, then back to the woman, and wondered if Chloe knew and where she was. She might have heard the sirens and noticed the commotion from her apartment since it was only a few blocks away, but knowing Chloe, she would ignore the drama because she would assume it wouldn’t have any effect on her life. He decided that when he was done, he would go to her apartment and let her know. It was better she heard it from him than somebody else.

  He turned and walked toward Judd and the police officer. “Who’s that?”

  The officer pointed in the direction of a man being questioned by another uniform, grief and torment written all over his face. “That’s her husband. And the boy who was killed in the school yard this morning?” The officer pointed back to the body. “That’s his mother. Maybe she threw herself off the building because she felt guilty for killing her kid.”

  “Collect evidence and photos,” Hunter said with ice in his voice, “then we’ll find out why.”

  Hunter went over to Reggie, who was sitting on the sidewalk. From what he understood from Chloe’s description of him, Reggie was a strong man with the resolve of a brick wall—nothing would ever make him fall. A good man with a great sense of humor and a fierce protection of everything and everyone he loved. Now he sat with his head in his hands and his body limp with grief. Hunter motioned for the officers to leave, and as they did, Hunter sat next to him.

  “She didn’t do it,” Hunter said quietly.

  Reggie slowly raised his head and looked at Hunter in a daze. “Who are you?”

  “Hunter Lawton. I’m an acquaintance of Chloe’s.”

  Reggie nodded his head. “I know who you are.”

  “Your son, she didn’t do it.”

  Reggie looked at Hunter with questions in his eyes.

  “Alice told you about her past, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know for sure, and this is just between you and me, but my guess is that the past has come back to haunt her, and I’m so sorry to say your son got caught in the crossfire. She’s not the only woman with the same tattoo who has been murdered; my wife had the same tattoo and was killed a few years ago. There is no way Alice would harm her children or throw herself off a building. There’s no way.”

  “You think this Parnell guy is here?” Reggie asked. “You think he did this?”

  “I do,” Hunter said. “But I need to talk to Chloe. I need more information.”

 
; “Are you going to talk to her as a friend or a cop? Because I get the feeling she’ll only talk to the one who doesn’t look like a threat to her.”

  “She came to see me in New Orleans a few days ago about protection for your family, which is going to be granted,” Hunter said, still upset with himself that he didn’t mention that fact to Chloe in all the distraction surrounding her confessions. “The more she told me about herself, the more betrayed and hurt I felt, and I’m still trying to process all the information, you know? But I have to talk to her because she is the only one who might be able to provide the answers you need right now.”

  Reggie looked off into the distance in contemplation. “I didn’t know what to think when Alice told me who she used to be. But the more I listened, the more I realized that she lied and kept secrets because it was what she had to do to protect herself. She didn’t do it to hurt me or the boys; she did it because she had to.” Reggie faced Hunter. “She did the right thing and I knew that one day, when she was ready, she would tell me. Go talk to Chloe and find out what you need to so my son and wife can be buried in peace, so that my other son and I can have some peace.”

  “She’s going back to Boston,” Hunter said. “She said she was going to help me get evidence to put him away.”

  “She’ll fail,” Reggie said with certainty as Hunter gave him a questioning look. “She’ll try, but then he’ll probably kill her too. But I have a feeling she already knows that. No, she won’t get any evidence for you. You’ll have a corpse before you get any evidence.”

  From the look in Reggie’s eyes, Hunter knew he was probably right. “Do you need anything?”

  “He killed my boy and my wife. I want his corpse.”

  There was nothing else to say. All Hunter could do was nod in sad understanding and stand up to leave.

  As Hunter turned, Reggie asked, “Do you love her?”

  Hunter ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Then all you have to do is understand and accept, and hope he doesn’t get to her before it’s too late.”

  Chapter 46

  Hunter went straight to Chloe’s apartment from the crime scene. After ten minutes of waiting for her to acknowledge his unrelenting ringing of the security bell, he tracked down the landlord, who was willing to let him into the building after being reassured that his tenant wasn’t a criminal.

  When there was no answer to his knocking, he tried the door to find it was unlocked. Drawing his gun, he slowly and quietly opened the door and entered the apartment, immediately seeing the silhouette of someone in the living room. As he entered the room, he saw an older man with rimless glasses sitting on the couch, casually reading through the papers and files Chloe had left on the coffee table. Hunter guessed the man was in his mid-seventies and was surprised this stranger was comfortable enough in this place not to react to Hunter’s entrance.

  David looked up, casting a warm smile at him. Hunter froze in his tracks, immediately recognizing the man on the couch, gun still poised as he tried to discern what the smile actually meant.

  “You must be Agent Lawton,” David said casually.

  “You’re David Lundy,” Hunter said as it all clicked into place. “You’re the mystery boss Finley and Chloe didn’t want us to know about. Parnell works for you.”

  David slowly rose from the couch, replacing the papers on the coffee table, and approached Hunter. “Now that we know each other, you can put that away. There is no danger here tonight. I’m simply waiting for my granddaughter to get home.”

  “Granddaughter?” I’m so sick of surprises. “What do you mean, granddaughter? Where is she?” Hunter’s eyes scanned the apartment for any sign of Chloe.

  “She’ll be back soon.”

  A voice in the back of Hunter’s mind kept telling him to relax, that there really was no danger here, but Chloe had not told him about David Lundy, much less the fact that he was her grandfather.

  “Are you Parnell’s father?”

  David smiled at the assumption. “No. Please, Agent Lawton, you can put the gun away.”

  Holstering his gun, Hunter asked, “How did you get in here?”

  David took the key out of his pocket and held it up for Hunter’s inspection. Hunter remained suspicious as he moved into the living room, taking a seat across from David.

  “Please call me David.”

  “Chloe didn’t mention you were in town. In fact, she didn’t mention you at all.”

  “I just got in a few days ago,” David replied, ignoring Hunter’s second statement. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

  “Eight?” Hunter asked, already knowing the answer.

  David nodded, a look of remembrance on his face. “To be exact. Sadly, she didn’t tell anyone when she left Boston. She was misguidedly devoted to her father from the time she was born, although, to be honest, at times I couldn’t figure out why.”

  “You knew what she did?” Hunter was surprised that a grandfather who obviously adored his granddaughter would condone the work her father had done and allow her to start following in his footsteps.

  “Of course I knew,” David said as if the answer was obvious. “I insisted she do the job. Renee—I mean, Chloe—was a stubborn girl, and fierce in proving to everyone she was going to do what she wanted and was going to do it her way. She and her father had their battles, but she more often than not got what she wanted if for one simple reason. She knows how to play the game better than Matthew. She learned at a young age and Matthew is too foolish to realize he’s the one who taught her.”

  The more David spoke, the more Hunter’s intrigue was piqued. “How do you mean?”

  “She studies people. She has this instinct for being able to read people and find both their strengths and weaknesses that she can lock away for future use. She knows how to diffuse a hostile situation faster and with more efficiency than Matthew could ever conceive of doing. If Matthew felt betrayed, he would send Mr. Crescent to deal with it; if she felt betrayed, she would deal with it herself. Not so much with force, but with words and intimidation.” David let go a small sigh of amusement. “She was very good at it, and, I’m guessing, still is.”

  Hunter shared David’s smile as he thought back to the first night they spent together in the restaurant and the brief, but effective, way she dealt with the manager wanting to take their table. “You’re not wrong about that.”

  They sat in silence a few minutes, studying each other. It was Hunter’s nature to be suspicious, but he found that he was comfortable with David despite the fact that he was a reputable mob boss in Chicago. He had questions, but part of him wanted Chloe with him when he got the answers. The other part of him thought taking advantage of the situation wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  “Do you usually come to see her this late at night?” David asked.

  “Uh, no,” Hunter replied. “I came over tonight because I need to talk to her about something that can’t wait.”

  “From the look on your face I would guess that whatever you have to say is something she’s not going to like.”

  “No, she’s not.” Hunter was supposed to protect this friend of Chloe’s and he’d failed. “A woman by the name of Allison Morris was killed tonight. You might know her as Alice Jenkins.”

  Hunter saw recognition on David’s face. “Yes. The two of them were very close when Renee was growing up. You’ll have to pardon me, Mr. Lawton. It will take me some time to get used to saying her new name. She’s going to be devastated.”

  “That’s not the worst of it,” Hunter said. “Alice’s son was murdered this morning as well; a six-year-old boy.”

  David’s head snapped up with hard curiosity in his eyes. It was obvious he wanted more information, so Hunter told him every detail he knew about both murders and his unconfirmed suspicion that Matthew had something to do with it. When he was done, there was no other way to describe David’s reaction than pure rage, and Hunter instinctively knew David was tryi
ng to suppress it. He also knew that David didn’t think Matthew was behind it, he knew it. Hunter watched David walk over to the window, back straight, shoulders tense, breathing even, knowing he was looking at nothing in particular while trying to keep his anger inside.

  He murdered a child to hurt her just so she’ll go back, Hunter thought to himself. Why do I get the feeling he has no idea the consequences he will suffer?

  David turned to Hunter, his face somber. “My granddaughter has had her heart broken too many times during her lifetime. She’s always been strong-willed when it comes to quashing her emotions. She was raised with the understanding that emotions were a problem and showed weakness. She was raised to always be logical and rational. If emotions needed to be vented, it would be done in privacy where no one could be a witness. I tell you this because what you have to tell her will shatter her. If you love her—and I believe you do—after you tell her, be there for her. Without saying a word, I know she feels the same for you and I think you may be the only person she will show her true self to.”

  Hunter doubted that. “You mean since Christopher?”

  “I mean ever,” David said, giving Hunter a poignant look. David let Hunter absorb that for a few heartbeats before clapping his hands and rubbing them together with a smile on his face, all anger seemingly forgotten. “Now, why don’t you and I play question and answer while we wait?”

  Chapter 47

  Christopher parked in front of Chloe’s apartment building and turned to her with the intention of waking her up, but instead watched her sleep for a few minutes. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, caress her face, and let her know how much he would always love her. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest and listened to her soft breathing and knew she was finally sleeping after who knew how many nights of futile attempts to sleep through the night.

  He always found peace he didn’t know existed when he watched her sleep. Coincidentally, the first time he watched her sleep was the first night he had taken a life. He did what was expected of him, and he did it without fail, when a foreman at the Port of Boston had been shorting the count of containers that came in each week by five each shipment, taking the contents and selling them to another Family from New Jersey. Each shorted container cost Matthew thousands of dollars, and even though Matthew paid well, the foreman apparently felt that New Jersey paid him better. Cornering the man behind a building, Tucker pushed the barrel of his pistol into the man’s forehead while Christopher wrapped an electrical cord around his neck and held it there until the man stopped breathing. Afterward, Christopher appointed another dockworker as foreman, making the replacement prove his silence and loyalty by dropping a container on top of the body, thereby explaining his death as the fault of a malfunctioning crane.