by R L Dunn
Ian looked a little hopeful. “That has to be her. Where?”
Brett called the phone number. “Six blocks from the warehouse. They said a woman fitting Cassie’s description checked out an hour ago. She caught a cab—I’ll start calling companies.” He scooted toward the dining room command center. “I’m sorry. She’s one step ahead of us.”
Ian slammed his mug down. “Everyone needs to stop apologizing and find her.”
Garett left three separate handwritten notes. Mia scanned the suicide letters and forwarded them to Kieran and Ian.
* * *
My Dearest Cheyenne,
I am so sorry to leave you and my babies; they'll always be my babies. I am a coward. You and the kids will be better off without me. In time, you will understand.
My baby girl, I need you to call your momma and daddy. Have them fly up as soon as they can to bring you and the girls back home. There, you can have our son in peace. No matter what, never trust my parents. Please, Chey, do not speak to them again. They are cruel and dangerous people.
Open the safe in the den to find a safe-deposit key for box #501 at our bank. Your name is on the account, so you won’t have any problems. Take all the cash, the house title, and the ledger. Inside is a small black envelope for an account in your name, in the Caymans. There's enough cash to take good care of you, your parents, and our children for lifetimes. Before you or your daddy worry, this money is legal. The ledger documents every investment made. This is for your protection from the government and my family.
Chey, you are a wonderful person. I know this makes no sense to you. I am the son of two monsters. I cannot let my girls, or you be tainted by their evil. I will not tell you all the horrid details, but evil is not even close to who they are.
Please understand I never wanted to deceive you. For our babies’ health, you need to understand. I am sterile. The sperm we used wasn't mine. My father believed we were using his, but I assure you it wasn’t. I wouldn’t let a cell from him anywhere near you. The file with the anonymous donor's medical history is attached to the underside of my center desk drawer in our home office. He was just a donor. I am and always will be their daddy.
Time to reveal all the secrets. I was never unfaithful to you. When Cassie started college, my parents, the Marshalls and the Bynums demanded I cultivate a relationship with her. I was gutless and followed their rules.
Cassie inherited a large company that imports fine art. They needed access to those routes. My job was to get her to marry me. After spending some time with her, it was no longer a task; I fell in love. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. I was supposed to con her. To my parents and their friends, she was a means to an end. To me, she was the love of my life. I made the horrible mistake of sharing with Cassie that I couldn’t bear children. That wasn’t in my parents’ plan.
I planned to sneak away with her and elope, but my parents had other ideas. Cassie was asked to lecture at the National Gallery. I didn't go, a prisoner of my weakness. When she came to the house to deliver a painting my parents purchased, my mother drugged her.
For reasons I still don’t understand, they needed her to become pregnant. A doctor was waiting at the house. The drugs didn’t work, and she saw them, so their plan B was to sell her. At that point, my mother and her friends told Robby to do what he wanted with her. When he was done, he was supposed to kill her. She survived.
After Sebastian stabbed her at the dinner, they worried he told her what they did. Along with the Bynums and the Marshalls, they hired people to kill her and anyone else who got in the way. It was my fault—then and now. I never protected her. I won’t make that mistake again and let anything happen to you.
Baby girl, if you require more help than your parents can manage, go to Ian Chase. He loved Cassie the way she deserved. Unlike me, he is a decent, honorable man. I’m sure he will help you.
Take care of my babies. I loved them very much. I do love you. Have a wonderful new life.
G
* * *
The three men said nothing and scrolled to the next letter.
* * *
Dear Mr. And Mrs. Whitman,
Yes, I know that is not what you like to be called, but you are no more than an egg and a sperm donor to me. Your sick, pathetic attempts to control my life failed. This is the only way I could ever be free.
I want to be very clear: you will stay away from Cheyenne and my children. I am their father. As the doctors at the clinic will confirm, my children were conceived using a sample from donor 645798. I spilled your specimen into the sewer you crawled out from.
To ensure Cheyenne and my children’s safety, I mailed a package to Chase Group detailing your evil. I suggest you contact an attorney.
G
* * *
Christian inhaled deeply. “He died never knowing Whitman wasn’t his father. The third letter is addressed to you, Ian. Do you want me to leave?”
“Stay. Both of you.”
* * *
Dear Mr. Chase,
If you are reading this, you know I am dead. I have no right to ask anything from you, but please could you make sure Cheyenne gets to Texas with my girls and her parents? She is due in three weeks. She is innocent.
I need to apologize. You are the honorable and loving man I never could be. Cassie was fortunate to know you. I was a fool and a coward. I never protected her.
I need you to know how this started for me. My high school graduation was celebrated by going to the Caribbean with the Bynum and Marshall families. On our third night, Robby and I headed to the bars. On our way back to our villa, we saw our fathers laughing and carrying on. A second glance and we realized they were carrying an unconscious girl.
They brought her into an empty cabana. Through the windows, we watched them do horrible things to her. When they were finished, our moms and Claudia showed up. Instead of being shocked, they were angry because they left a mess that needed to be cleaned up. They wrapped the girl in a sheet and left her on the beach. I never knew if she was alive or dead. I was sick, and Robby was turned on. Our friendship ended there. I was a coward then too. I could have called the authorities, but I did nothing.
Under separate cover, the Chase Group will receive a large envelope addressed to you containing notes and evidence substantiating the financial crimes my parents committed. Also, inside is an album I found in my father’s home office. It’s a book about Cassie’s baby. I also included a copy of all my financial records to help Cheyenne. Not one dollar was earned doing anything illegal. Also included is a cashier’s check to cover any expenses Chase Security incurs to ensure Cheyenne’s safety. Please know I never wanted anything bad to happen to Cassie. In my own pathetic way, I loved her.
Garett Whitman
* * *
Ian sat on his hands. “Where are they? She’s heading to them.”
The surveillance teams radioed their targets were in transit to the Army Navy Club.
“Start to roll. We need to get there. I hope we can detain them there before Cassie gets to them. What do you want to do about Cheyenne?” Kieran asked.
“I believe Garett that she’s innocent. Send Kip and Wes to the house and get eyes on her. Call Olivetti—and let him run with it.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Cassie limped into the department store. With each step, she grew more lightheaded and out of breath, her heart beating out of her chest. The smell of perfumes and colognes made her seek out the nearest restroom. Her reflection in the mirror frightened her. Before leaving in search of an outfit, she cupped her hand under the faucet to gather a sip of water, but it never made it past her lips. The Unisom was no longer working. Cassie let the last quarter prescription pill dissolve under her tongue.
Returning to the store, she grabbed a simple green linen sheath dress, low-heeled pumps, a purse, and a makeup sampler. Fifteen minutes later, she headed to the Army Navy Club.
The regal social club stood on Farragut Square. Cassie held tight to
the gold banister as she walked up the four granite steps and through the white double doors, smiling at the two doormen. Inside, she walked the gold-bordered runner and up a few more steps into the large lobby. Steadying herself, she approached the young man at the registration desk.
“May I help you?”
“I am meeting a group today for lunch. Senator Bynum’s party?”
“Yes, ma’am. The Senator has reserved part of the ballroom on the second floor. The senator and his wife have not arrived yet. As a guest, I can’t let you go up alone.”
“My fiancé is a member.” With shaking hands, Cassie pulled out the card she found in Ian’s wallet.
“It will be just a moment, ma’am. My computer is down. I need to use the one in the office.”
“Mr. Ian Chase?”
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“Mr. Chase, this is Ted from the Army Navy Club. I am sorry to bother you. Sir, there is a young woman here with your ID card, claiming to be your fiancée. I just want to make sure it is all right, sir. It seems odd. You always call ahead and give your guest a pass.”
“Describe her.”
“Pretty, about five feet tall, auburn hair.”
“Don’t let her leave.” Ian raced to the front door. “She’s at the Army Navy Club. We’re thirty minutes out. Move.”
Five Navigators drove out of the estate. Kieran couldn’t stop Ian before he jumped on the Ducati. In his rearview mirror, he saw Kieran climb into the passenger side of the lead vehicle. His brother’s voice coordinating the mission reverberated in his com.
Ian’s phone buzzed. “Sir, it’s Joseph, head of security at the club. The young lady disappeared. We are searching for her now, but our doormen reported no one left the building. She was interested in the Bynum party, who reserved the ballroom for lunch.”
Wind buffeted Ian on the bike. “Are they there?”
“Yes, sir. They arrived a few minutes ago.”
“She’s in that room; I’m sure of it. I’m on my way. She’s very ill. Joseph, please just keep eyes on her. Don’t interfere.”
“Yes, sir. I have alerted Senator Bynum’s Secret Service protection detail and the senator’s aide.”
“I believe they may harm her. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Please keep them away from her.”
“Mr. Chase, I can’t violate protocol. I’m sorry.”
Kieran called Ian. “Tiger reported the Marshalls and the Whitmans just arrived at the club.”
Ian pushed the bike to its extremes. “Roger. Bynum’s team knows she’s in the building. Get our men in there.”
The brightly lit ballroom was divided into two small rooms. Towering windows were draped in heavy tapestries of red and gold. Ladder-back chairs surrounded a table set for six. Cassie concealed her tiny frame between the folding room divider and a panel of drapery.
Familiar voices entered the room. “We need to put a plan together. Devereaux is getting antsy. With Cassiopeia dead, he needs a new patsy to blame, and Ian Chase is still snooping around,” Adrienne said.
When waiters served the first course, the smell of Thai curry shrimp soup overwhelmed Cassie. She closed her eyes and inhaled through her mouth, but it wasn’t enough. Needing more air, she stepped from the brocade.
Claudia Marshall spotted her first. “Oh, my. You’re supposed to be dead.”
Cassie swayed on her feet. “Good afternoon, everyone. Don’t let me interrupt your lunch.”
Judge Marshall stood and pulled a chair from an adjoining table for her. “Young lady, it is good to see you’re alive.”
“Your Honor, let’s not waste our time with fake platitudes. I think the six of you are quite unhappy I’m standing here. We need to talk about what you’ve been up to. You see, my memory has returned. I also found some fascinating information in my office and in a warehouse on Fourth. And you folks are going to fill in the blanks.”
“You were always too smart for your own good. You realize you’re not walking out of here alive,” Adrienne sneered.
The door to the ballroom opened, and Senator Bynum’s fixer, Monte, joined the table. Cassie looked down and saw the business end of a silenced .45 caliber pistol pointing at her gut. She didn’t blink. “Ade—I’m going to call you that—we can be civilized here. Aren’t you the least bit curious about what I know and who I told?”
Adrienne Whitman cringed. “You were always a disrespectful bitch.”
Judge Marshall walked over to Cassie, and Monte handed him a set of flex cuffs. “Your hands, please.” Judge Marshall held the handcuffs in front of her. The gun barrel pressed hard against her side until she complied.
Adrienne mocked her, “Tell us what you think you know.”
Senator Bynum reached for Cassie’s cuffed hands. “Now, darling, we don’t have to go through all this, do we?”
Cassie yanked her hands away. “You sick, deranged man. You didn’t call me ‘darling’ while you sodomized me. Don’t you dare touch me. Wouldn’t the American public love to know their next prospective president is a sexual predator, a murderer—and is guilty of treason?”
Betty Bynum feigned surprise.
“Betty, knock it off. Your husband doesn’t scratch his ear without you knowing.”
The door opened again, and Monte tucked the weapon and Cassie’s hands under the linen tablecloth. Two waiters, both from Kieran’s team, served a lunch of salmon with fragrant saffron rice and roasted vegetables. “Shall we bring two more servings for your additional guests?” Tighe “Tiger” Cummings, posing as a waiter, asked.
Before the senator could answer, Cassie wretched.
“Are you sick, Cassiopeia?” Claudia Marshall helped her with a glass of water. Her attempt to raise her hands to accept the glass was met with a dig from the gun.
Troy “Greece” Bremen called Kieran and Ian. “We have a problem. Club security notified Senator Bynum’s team. Tighe and I got a look into the room, and Mr. Bynum’s aide is in the dining room pointing a gun at Cassie. They have her hands bound with flex cuffs in front. And, Ian, she doesn’t look good. She vomited while the meal was served.”
“I’m five minutes out. Seal off the room. Greece, no one goes in or out until I get there,” Ian said. The engine of the Ducati screamed.
Cassie swallowed a sip of water. “I’m just a little under the weather. Folks, are you aware Robby kept meticulous and detailed records of your exploits? Every girl, every act, immortalized on film and file.
“You are quite a voyeur, Judge, and you are quite the amateur photographer, Claudia. Robby labeled every photograph. He even gave you credit in every file of the women you sold. Judge, he also kept a record of every art transaction. I’m sure the FBI will love the contents of your home. And, sorry, you won’t get the Van Gogh.
“What surprised me was you getting involved with a man like Arkady Sabitov. There were many gallery owners with influence who could help you. Why choose a man as difficult to manipulate and as vicious as him?”
“Robby told us over and over she was going to ruin everything. He was right. We should have killed her instead of leaving it up to those incompetent men,” Betty derided.
“You know, Betty, I liked you. You were the only one to shut Ade up. Ladies, I guess you’ve spent a lot of time cleaning up for these men. They made many mistakes. Was Robby one of their mistakes? You murdered him? I know the world is not all sunshine and flowers, but killing your only child, Betty? That is pure evil.”
Betty slapped Cassie across the face.
The adrenaline rush is what Cassie needed. “Senator, you traveled to Moscow twelve years ago. Is that when you met Sabitov? Was he helping you sabotage the voting booths? Sabitov is not a man you climb into bed with. How did you sell your souls? What did he have that was so special? What did one of you do in Moscow? Did you get caught with your hand in the cookie jar?” Cassie’s tone was cutting.
Claudia yelled, “Tell her. Get this over with. She can die knowing.”
“We
were there as part of a delegation to work out issues with Russian adoptions. We were also there on our own to arrange a deal for some voting booth technology. Of course, they couldn’t resist going out to the clubs,” Adrienne growled.
“We found a sweet little waif—so young and fair with hair like yours. She was delightful, wasn’t she?” Bynum was wistful, and Whitman and Marshall both smiled.
“And who was she?” Cassie adjusted her position in the chair. Monte placed a firm, controlling hand on her thigh, making pain shoot through her leg.
“Sabitov’s soon-to-be sister-in-law,” Senator Bynum whispered.
“Haha, you pigs raped the future sister-in-law of the largest mobster in Moscow and lived to tell the tale?”
Senator Bynum shrugged. “From that moment, we were no longer in business with him—we were indebted to Mr. Sabitov.”
Ian hit the lobby at full speed. Two more Chase Security personnel greeted him at the top of the steps. Joseph Dowling, head of the club’s security, said, “I told these men I notified the Secret Service.”
“I tried to explain Cassie isn’t a threat, but they’re not listening.” Zach’s crystal blue eyes blazed like lasers.
Ian grabbed the security chief by the collar. “Ms. Modine is unarmed. She is an FBI agent. She is ill. Where’s the detail?” Ian demanded two more waiters’ outfits. He directed how he wanted the team to secure the premises. Tate, fresh from the warehouse, along with Martin, changed into waitstaff uniforms.
“So why me?” Cassie asked.
“Something the smart whore can’t figure out? We needed Ellis Art Finds. Daddy’s company gave us access to art shipments, and his reputation was impeccable—easy transit through customs. You were a patsy. You were targeted the minute your face and auburn hair appeared in the news after you survived the helicopter crash—no one was supposed to survive. Your survival won us Devereaux’s cooperation. It didn’t take long to figure out he planned the crash. At that point, we decided the best way to maintain the volume needed was for you to be part of the family—you can’t testify against your husband. We flipped a coin between Garett and Burt. Garett won,” Adrienne said.