by Lyz Kelley
Mike took his time studying the old tenement building. Several people passed him on the street without so much as a glance his way.
Finally, his traveling study landed back on her, “I’ve known Weston for a while now. At the negotiating table he’s respected, yet merciless. He’s brilliant and focused when it comes to business, but when it comes to friends and family, he’s got a weak spot.”
“That’s because everyone seeks love. It’s who we are.” Courtney gripped the handrail tighter. “In my business, I embrace those who are unloved and help them find hope.”
“Weston’s a good man, and what’s happening to him pisses me off. He and his family don’t deserve it, and I will find out who’s behind this if it takes the rest of my life.”
“Bad things happen to good people every day, Mike. It’s how a person deals with the bad that makes the difference. If it matters, I’m ashamed of how I reacted, and I’d like to make amends if I can.”
Mike held up her note. “I will deliver your message. That’s all I can promise.”
“That’s fair.”
He nodded. His long strides toward the corner gave her hope.
Valerie came heaving up to the door. “Those stairs will give me a heart attack yet.” She grabbed Courtney’s arm for support. “What did Weston have to say?”
“It wasn’t him. Mike, Weston’s head of security dropped this off. It’s a bank confirmation. Weston’s donated the money we needed for the building’s down payment.”
“But you weren’t going to stay here. Some hooey about this building not being in a good location.”
“I’m still not going to buy this building. Before I met Weston Carver, I would have spent money on the building without thinking twice. But now…now, I’ve been educated. There are better, more efficient ways to help. As much as I love living here, the owner will try to stiff us on the price, and there’s a building not too far from the other sites that’s bigger and in much better condition than this one.” She glanced again at the transfer sum that almost stopped her heart. “It’s my job to make sure every cent of this money is spent wisely.”
“Baby, is that the Managing Director of Empower House I hear talking? If so, I like that woman. She’s got spunk.”
A new layer of confidence plumped up her passion. “With this wire transfer, Weston’s put his trust in me, and with every ounce of energy, I’m gonna show him I’m a person who can be trusted.” Courtney wrapped her arm around Valerie. “And wait till you hear what I have planned.”
“Oh, dear. I don’t like it when you get that look on your face. The last time you had that conquer-the-world expression, you organized a walk on City Hall. Baby, what are you up to?”
“You’ll see. You better hold on, because we’re going viral.”
“Oh, dear. Seems I need to make some tea and chocolate chip cookies.” Valerie patted Courtney’s hand and turned back toward the kitchen.
If Courtney’s plan worked, Valerie already knew she would be a very, very busy lady.
Chapter 27
Weston strode into the New York FBI headquarters with two lawyers and three of his security team, including Mike and Haley. “Gentlemen. Ladies.” He stood at the conference table edge as his team surrounded him. The intent was to swarm the room with his experts to gain an advantage. Weston had an important message to deliver.
“At ease, people.” Special Agent Don Rodriguez walked in the door and aimed a stand-down gesture at the men and women on his team, who were braced to face off.
“Mr. Carver. I’ve reviewed the information your team sent over, and we’ve done our own investigation.” Rodriguez pulled out a chair to sit and indicated to the one across from him. “Mr. Carver, if you would please take a seat, I’d like to review our status.”
Weston gave the nod to his team as he pulled out the blue fabric chair. One lawyer sat on each side of him, while Haley and Mike elected to stand behind him.
Rodriguez opened a thick file. “Mr. Carver, after further review, we—” The guy must have swallowed an egg-sized wad of humble, because he sure didn’t sound as polished as when he was threatening to put Weston’s ass in jail. “—I feel we owe you an apology. Based on the new evidence we received, we are now convinced you are innocent of the charges we laid against you.”
Weston’s lungs emptied of air, right before his hands fisted to contain the surge of determination. “We thank you for considering all the evidence.” He glanced around the table to make sure his statement hit home. “A crime has been committed. Both Liam and I were falsely accused, and I want to know who is behind this setup.”
Rodriguez lifted both hands in a grand gesture to push away responsibility, “It’s not our job—”
“Before you continue telling me how it’s not your job to figure out who’s behind my brother’s and my character assassinations, and who worked to destroy Carver International’s company image, let me remind you that you arrested me at a public function, in front of the press and a hundred of my closest peers. The timing of the arrest single-handedly ruined months of work setting up a fund-raising event for this city’s abused women. How is all this going to appear in the press when you tell the people of New York you made a mistake?” Weston paused, allowing his words to sink in.
“Well, I….”
“Special Agent Rodriguez, I suggest we work collectively to figure out who’s working so hard to kill Carver International’s stock prices, and together manage this media mess so we both don’t come out of this looking like complete idiots.”
Rodriguez leaned back in his chair, “As I was saying, it’s not our job, typically, to investigate things that fall under securities fraud or false reporting. That job belongs to the Security and Exchange Commission and local law enforcement, but I’ll put in a few calls. I don’t enjoy looking like a fool any more than you do, Mr. Carver. My team has been looking at the data and creating a profile. Seems there’s been some unusual trading in the health care equipment sector lately. Plus, we analyzed the financial activities of the accusers. It seems all the women received large sums of untraceable gift cards over the past three months.”
“Which fits in perfectly with the crime timeline.” Weston splayed his fingers on the table, waiting for Rodriguez, assessing each blink of an eye, facial muscle tick, the way he breathed. Short breaths or long? He pressed his shoulders down, showing an outward calm. He had Rodriguez backed in a corner. Now was the time to back off and see what the man did next.
“Before I go on,” Rodriguez pushed the file in front of him an inch toward the middle of the table, “I’m trying to figure out what you might do with this information.”
Weston tapped his fingertips one at a time, calculating his next move. “Are you a chess player, Agent Rodriguez?”
The imposing man with forty-four-inch shoulders and sturdy chin smiled. “I play a little.”
“I’ve gotten rather proficient over the years.” Weston clasped his hands in front of him. “I prefer to take my time. Surround my opponent. Position my pieces. Half the time they don’t see me coming, so justice is served swiftly and thoroughly.”
The FBI agent looked around the table at each of his staff members, who nodded their agreement with his next move. “I didn’t think you were an irrational man, but it’s always nice to confirm. Since you like to play, I say we flush out the pieces. Right now we know the pawns. I want the king and queen.”
Weston nodded. “I assume the accusers will be charged with a false reporting offense. I don’t have a say, but I would like to request you go easy on them. Homeless mothers trying to feed their children do desperate things, including file false reports.”
“We have noted your position.”
“Then I am in agreement about the king and queen. I want this matter closed swiftly.”
The uneasiness had subdued but not disappeared, which kept Weston’s radar engaged. “Is there more we need to discuss?”
“If you don’t mind, I would like to h
old off announcing we’ve dropped the charges against you until all the facts are gathered.”
“I understand the difficult position both you and your department are in, Agent Rodriguez. If this were just about me, I could wait, but I have a company and thousands of employees to consider. I would like to suggest we hold a joint news conference one week from today. That should give you enough time for fact-gathering.”
The guy at the end of the conference table in a gray business suit with a coffee stain on his pressed blue shirt shook his head.
Weston stood to dominate and create a focus. “One week. That’s all I’m willing to give you. I want this matter closed. Two false arrests in a matter of weeks have been highly embarrassing for my family and have created a significant amount of unnecessary work for everyone involved. I’m sure the mayor and governor of this great state, and even the senators and representatives, would agree. All are on my speed dial.”
“No need to issue threats, Mr. Carver.”
Weston unbuttoned his suit jacket, letting the fabric fall to his sides. “Let me be clear. I’m not making a threat, Don. They falsely accused my brother of sexual harassment. I’ve been accused of sex trafficking. My family’s name has been dragged through the media mud. Oh, no, Agent Rodriguez, I’m not threatening. I will make sure the entire world knows these charges are false, and that you didn’t do your job before you very publicly arrested me and my brother. Next week it will be up to you whether your department would prefer to issue a joint statement in which I will not emphasize your carelessness. Because I will call a press conference and invite as many of the major publications and networks as possible.”
“Understood.” Rodriguez pushed back and stood. “Folks," he looked at all the people surrounding the table. “I suggest we get our skates on, because we certainly wouldn’t want to bungle this more than we already have.”
“I’m glad we’re all in agreement.” Weston extended his hand across the table. “Agent Rodriguez, I look forward to working jointly. There is nothing more important to me than finding the people behind this.”
“Mr. Carver, if we’re going to be working together, you’d better call me Don.”
Weston walked around the end of the table. “And please call me Weston. One day, after this is all over, maybe we can get a beer, or something stronger.”
“I’d like that. I’m a bourbon man myself.” Don picked up his file.
“I like a glass of Widow Jane now and then.”
Don’s head popped up. “You know it?”
“The ten-year drinks like a twenty-year whiskey. I like the spicy peach finish. Plus, it’s local.”
“You have excellent taste. It’s one of my favorites.”
Weston nodded. “I can’t wait to toast all our hard work when this is over.” He shook the agent’s hand again and then followed his team down the long corridor to the elevator. No one spoke until they were out of the building and into the afternoon sun.
“That went as well as could be expected,” one of the criminal lawyers broke the silence.
“Yes, but it’s not over yet.” Weston emphasized. “Not until my family name is cleared.” He looked around the circle of people. “Mike. I’d like you and Haley to work with Courtney and determine if any other women suddenly got a wad of gift cards.”
“Do you think involving Courtney is a wise idea?” Haley asked, before suddenly finding the tops of her shoes interesting.
He didn’t want to debate the decision. Then again, he shouldn’t be so hard on Haley. She was just trying to protect his heart, or possibly his image. Courtney’s reaction at his arrest hadn’t helped. He got that, but he didn’t have time to worry about his broken heart. This was business. “Courtney’s the Managing Director of Empower House. Who else would you suggest we ask?”
“I’ll call,” Mike took out his phone. “The cars are just pulling up.” He pointed.
Two black sedans pulled to the curb, stopping one behind the other.
“Weston, do you mind if I ride with you?” Mike asked, after a slight hesitation.
Since when did Mike hold back? He didn’t say much most of the time, but he always spoke his mind when there was something to be said, no matter who was around.
“Sure, you can ride with me, but I’m not going to the office. Dad thought it best to work from home.” He could see Mike asking which home, so he qualified. “In Midtown.”
Mike nodded and followed him to the car. Weston slid into the back, while Mike walked around. No sooner did Mike’s butt hit the seat when his phone alarms started ringing. Mike scrolled through his alerts.
“Boss, you’ll want to see this.” Mike held up his phone.
On the screen, Courtney sat in a news studio with Empower House’s logo displayed on the huge screen behind her. One of New York’s most in-depth reporters, Kerrie Mason, sat beside her.
“What the hell is she doing?” Weston grabbed Mike’s arm to pull the phone closer. Weston retrieved his phone and dialed her number. The phone rang, and rang, and rang, eventually going to voicemail. Of course she wouldn’t have her phone with her on set.
His instinct to protect blasted through him full force, proving his passion for her hadn’t died, hadn’t even taken a step back.
He watched in horror as she smiled into the camera.
Chapter 28
Courtney lifted a hand to smooth back her hair, but remembered the stylists already applied fifteen layers of hairspray on each strand. “Weston, I hope you’re near a television,” she muttered, “’cause I’m going out on a ledge, here.”
“Ms. Kramer, are you ready?” Kerrie Mason, the blue-eyed, blonde, top-rated news reporter in New York adjusted her microphone, then straightened her dress, looking to her make-up artists to do final touches for the camera-ready pose. She lifted her tablet to check her cue notes.
“Yes, I’m ready,” Courtney’s confident reply didn’t quite match the level of apprehension building in her stomach.
Kerrie turned to the director. “Ready?”
“Ready, on camera 1.” The balding man’s hand raised, with a thumbs-up, then a countdown clock flashed, 3…2…1. He pointed at Kerrie as the stage light turned red.
“Good afternoon. We are here with Courtney Kramer, the new director of Empower House. Welcome, Courtney.”
“Thanks for having me, Kerrie.”
“Let’s talk about Empower House. My understanding is you are the new managing director of the Empower House women’s shelters. Is that correct?”
“Yes, I am. I’m excited about being able to help the women of New York find the programs they need to get back on their feet after being abused.”
Kerrie shifted toward her. “Shelters have been in the news for health and safety violations and unsafe living conditions. How do you see your shelter as being different?”
“First, a shelter is a home. Just like any other home, a shelter’s scheduled upkeep is required to protect and keep safe those inside. Each person entering the house must maintain the community living within its walls.”
“When you say maintain, what does that mean exactly?”
“Over this past week, every shelter has instituted a current-day and next-day responsibility board. The resident manager is accountable for updating and maintaining the board assignments and ensuring every cleaning, cooking, or maintenance item is completed.”
“To some this may sound rather harsh, especially for someone trying to get back on their feet.”
“To an outsider, maybe, but to those coming into the shelter, having straightforward, consistent house rules is key. There are no surprises. No sudden disruptions. Every day there is more of the same. This routine helps women and their children eventually feel safe, and helps them master the life skills they’ll need when living on their own again.”
“What happens if someone in the shelter doesn’t do their fair share?”
“When a new resident arrives, the residence manager walks them through an onboardi
ng process. The first thing to happen is they’re assigned a room, and, if they weren’t able to bring them, they’re given necessities for each woman and her children. Then a hot meal is provided while any clothes they brought with them are washed and folded by the house residents as a welcome gift.”
“What if their clothes are already clean?”
“Great question, Kerrie. All clothes coming into the shelter need to be washed, no matter what. This process ensures no bedbugs or other contaminants are brought into the shelter. All our policies are necessary to help keep everyone at the shelter safe.”
She could see Valerie standing off to the side. Her friend gave her a double-thumbs-up grin.
Kerrie leaned closer. “What happens after the first introduction?”
“We assign each person a gap manager.”
“Gap manager?” Kerrie flashed her pearly whites. “What is that?”
“I don’t like the term caseworker or counselor. When we use either of those terms, residents often feel broken or ‘less than,’ and it’s important for each person to feel respected and heard. Someone who’s been abused, sometimes for years, is likely to have self-esteem issues. They may feel like a failure. A gap manager’s job is to help a resident admit where they are, then figure out where they want to be, and help develop and refine a plan to close the gap between the two.” Courtney lowered her guard with a sense of accomplishment.
“I like the term gap manager. Sounds appropriate.” For the first time since Courtney met the news anchor that morning, Kerrie managed a real smile. Not one of those photo-op smiles for the audience, but real, genuine approval. “Can you give us an example what a standard gap plan might include?”
“Not really. Every person’s situation is different. A plan might include helping an individual enroll in school, or parenting classes, job skill training, legal assistance, or health care referrals.”
“What about the reports that women feel disrespected, degraded, or like they’re being treated like nothing?”