AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE-SCATTERED LEGACY
“We believe Josh falsified invoices with certain clients and moved money to offshore accounts without my consent. I was so angry I removed him without hearing his side of it. As far as I’m concerned, he’s totally responsible whether he was directly or indirectly involved. I wish I’d handled the situation differently. My short fuse got in the way when I felt Dad’s business was being used illegally as a giant retirement fund for Josh. He would know whether Dad used illegal monies from the racing team. We’re waiting on the board’s decision to prosecute Josh.”
“We have to find him.”
“He found me,” Alec grumbles. “Josh called me while I was in Mom’s office. I haven’t heard from him since I let him go.” He shakes his head. “He wants my help.”
Gen’s sitting at her desk in front of her favorite collection of astronomy books, staring at the wall. Her eyelids are rimmed red, and she’s grasping a wadded tissue in her hand. My stupid fear of a blackbird’s feather placed in an envelope pales against her sadness at the reminder of a lost soul mate. She witnessed her husband’s head explode, as I did, when Pearce fought gunmen on the yacht. It’s surreal when someone you know has died in front of you. Dreamlike, until their life jolts away and a body is left in place of a vibrant human being, like the man with his grin on the tabloid cover. Gen loved her husband deeply. No matter how many times I assure myself it wasn’t my fault what happened, Pearce might still be alive if the Mushasha jewel—Stop it. Samantha Freeman, my best friend, wouldn’t give up her matching horse bracelet either. The curse was powerful, and it pulled us along. Pearce’s fate was sealed the day he was born. Only God knows what’s in store for us. I have to show Alec and Gen that Pearce’s short existence was meaningful. His record must remain untarnished for Gen and her son.
“Has anyone been smoking? It smells like something’s burning.” I check the wastebasket for cigarette butts and find it recently emptied. “Alec, please sit before you fall down.”
His chair squawks along the tile in front of the Victorian pedestal desk. “Mom, I’m sorry.” Alec pats his mother’s hand across the blotter. “I didn’t think what seeing Dad again might do to you.”
“He’s gone, dear. There’s no bringing him back. Believe me, I’ve tried.” Gen smiles and dabs the corner of her eye. “Honey, how do we get in front of this bad press? Signorile’s sale must go forward. It’s decided. You and Annalisse are to be freed of the corporation to enjoy yourselves. Phooey on this bad timing, before your trip and all.” She glances at me and points to the armchair.
“Have you heard from Global Star Class yet? What’s the best move?” I ask Alec.
“Embezzlement matters. Serge LeBlanc is a straight-up guy, so he won’t peddle the Signorile acquisition to his board while there’s a scandal hanging over it.” He rubs between his brows and takes out his phone. “We need Bill’s expertise on this one.”
The call is made via speakerphone so we can all be a part of it. It’ll be great to hear Bill’s voice again. After Kate’s mysteries were solved a few months ago, Bill returned to his other investigations with his partner, Dan Chappell. Bill’s a good friend to Alec, and he helped us both cope with Kate and Ted’s nightmare at Walker Farm and in Massachusetts. The uncle I thought had committed suicide came back for revenge. Ted is being held in jail now for the plot to ruin Kate. Bill doesn’t know where Kate went, which was our hope when he dropped her at the airport, so she’s in charge and determines when she makes a return. That mother-daughter talk will have to wait until she’s ready. She left me with only a letter explaining that she is my birth mother, and I have a father who doesn’t know I’m alive. It’s little wonder my decision not to marry Alec at this time is frustrating for him. I’m so afraid something in my past will hurt Alec or his mother.
“Hey, I was about to call you. Have you heard mainstream news?” Bill Drake asks.
“You’re on speaker with Mom and Annalisse. I’m at the gallery, and yes, we’ve read the gossip rag’s trash.” Alec lays the phone on the desk.
“Good morning, Generosa, Anna. I hope you’re both well.”
“Hi, Bill,” I chime, imagining what color palm tree shirt he’s wearing with his chinos. “Did we catch you at a bad time?”
“Not in the least. I’m in Connecticut, finishing up a case. What’s up?”
“Can you break away to join us in Lecce?” Alec looks away from the speakerphone.
“Lecce… Where’s that?” Bill asks.
“Italy,” he says, staring at an imaginary spot above my head.
Gen whips around to glare at Alec. “Son, where are you going?”
I’m just as shocked. It’s stifling enough to have Brad, Alec’s bodyguard and chauffeur, along on the trip. Since there’s already three of us, one more will ensure zero privacy with Alec. Not the trip of my dreams. We’ll put off the romantic venture for another time.
“Do you want me to reopen the earlier investigation on the Signorile accounts?” Bill asks.
“What investigation? You never mentioned this before.” Gen grabs another tissue.
Alec raises a palm toward his mother. “It’s more complicated than that, Bill. I spoke to Josh already.”
“Is that right? Wow. Surprised he’d take your call after being fired.”
Alec erupts into mirthless laughter. “Bring all you’ve got on Josh Jennings before, during, and after his tenure with Signorile. Go deep, really deep into the slimy mud if you have to, and meet us at the Challenger hangar.”
“Text me the address and gate. When and what time?”
Alec whispers to me, “What time will you be ready in the morning… six, seven?”
“Name it.” This is Alec’s mission, and I’m along for support, even though our beautiful, scheduled destination is a smoking pile of rubble blown up by an ex-employee I’ve never met.
“We don’t have time to waste. Can you make it from Connecticut to the hangar, say, by seven thirty a.m.? You’ll be able to get your beauty rest on the plane. Pack for at least a week. The ocean air is nice during midday and a little cool at night.”
Lecce must be near the coast. Alec notices my confusion because he walks by and sits on the arm of my chair.
“Anything else?” Bill asks.
“Yeah. A woman was found murdered in Josh’s office, wrapped in concertina wire. He’s the suspect.”
Alec’s admission triggers the weird visual in Gen’s office. Is that the woman I saw? I don’t know whose silence is more deafening, Bill’s, Gen’s, or mine.
EXERPT FROM CHAPTER FOUR – SCATTERED LEGACY
The reception area is completely empty, and there’s a smell like metal in damp dirt circulating overhead. Farther in, the ceiling fan is hovering on high speed, and the windows are open.
A dead body inside a warm office leaves an unmistakable odor behind, as did the body Ethan found inside the stall at Walker Farm. Decomp is one smell that sticks with you forever. Adding to the office creepiness, who chose the interior’s decor? We’re surrounded by limestone walls painted an ugly shade of ochre, slightly more yellow and definitely more unappealing than the building’s exterior. The rooms will need another coat of fresh paint to cover a harsh stench known to stick to the walls like cigarette tar does.
No one is nearby, not even the receptionist.
The office cubicles are silent but for a few flapping papers. Not a single desk phone is ringing. It’s like the office decided to have a fire drill midday, and the employees left their computers on and didn’t bother to close folders—open to anyone passing by. Frames holding pictures of sweethearts and children stand by as guardians for the people who are absent from their high-back swivel chairs.
Officer Raffa returns and mutters in heavy Italian brogue, “Il signore is waiting for his… avvocato difensore.” He points to the room with a closed door. “Come, Mr. Zavos. Your friends stay here.”
“Josh is in there waiting for his defense attorney. Back soon.” Alec touches my arm and looks at Bill, sending him a private message.
Alec’s led to a side office, and the solid door closes behind them.
“Is Alec signing autographs, or should I even worry about what’s going on in that room? Has Josh been here the entire time messing with evidence?” I ask Bill.
“Alec’s prepared for all contingencies. I’m surprised they haven’t taken Jennings down to the station by now.”
A few minutes later, Alec emerges by himself. “They weren’t going to allow us to talk to Josh, but I persuaded him. It shouldn’t be much longer.”
For what feels like an eternity, we sit in ladderback pine chairs with brown cushions while Alec keeps adjusting his watch. I don’t know what Alec had to promise the officer. Autographs are fine with me, but if he had to pay him off, I’d rather not know.
“I hope Brad is parked in the shade somewhere.” Alec looks at his watch for the eighth time in twenty minutes and turns to me. “Now that we’re here, they seem to be in no hurry to get rid of us. I’m sorry, Anna. Hold on a little longer.” His smile is an honest one full of regret.
I’ve heard the sentiment from him so often it doesn’t even register with my brain anymore. We both have a lot of work to do in the I-promise-to-do-better department.
The closed door at the back wall opens, and a guy pokes his head out, surveying the room. He’s fiftyish and, with his reading glasses, reminds me of Gen’s studious accountant.
Alec pivots, and his earlier smile vanishes.
“That’s Jennings,” Bill says quietly.
“Yes.” Alec waves to draw the man’s attention.
A confused Josh looks at us and then the floor as if he’s embarrassed. Eventually he settles his eyes on Alec. “I wasn’t sure you’d come. My attorney should be here soon. Come back to the conference room.”
Bill asks Alec, “Is it okay to go on ahead?”
Alec must have compensated the officer well to allow us entry this close to the crime scene.
“Let’s get this over with.” Alec seems queasy.
The three of us move through the aisle between desks and toward the room with a door left open for us. Josh has already gone inside. For someone who wants Alec’s help, he sure doesn’t appear happy or grateful for his effort. A huge effort. This had better not be Josh’s way of buying himself out of the woman’s death. The disgrace of being fired from Signorile after Pearce’s tragedy has to hurt his pride.
There’s news of a deadly virus moving through Europe, and the typical handshake is no longer being used between business execs.
Bill lifts his arm and catches himself. “Mr. Jennings? My name is Bill Drake, an associate of Mr. Zavos. You’ve asked to see him, and we also have some questions for you on another matter.”
“Wonderful.” The man in a sweaty, slept-in polo isn’t thrilled with us staring him down. There’s frost in the room as testosterone flies between glances. No one wants to be the first to break the sheet of ice forming around the presumed blue-eyed killer. Alec hasn’t made any assumptions yet until we talk to him, but Josh’s cool facade feels calculated to me. A superior to Alec, or something like that. For an innocent, I don’t like his peculiar behavior in the presence of a man who’s here to keep his neck from a noose.
“I asked to see Alec. Who are the rest of you?”
He’s behind a chair, using it as a shield to save himself from a CEO who wants to take his livelihood from him again. Or is it because he’s guilty of ending a woman’s life?
Alec pulls out the chair for me, and we all sit at the long conference table with a fancy letter F embellished in the center.
Josh’s temples bead with sweat, and he’s wringing his hands next to a wool felt fedora hat with a band. They seem to be popular in Italy. The guy’s bloodshot eyes and dark circles are sure signs of insomnia and stressing to the max. Wet ovals hang beneath the armpits of his beige shirt.
Alec’s unshakable gaze lands on Jennings, who abruptly turns away.
This meeting isn’t opening well.
Bill addresses Josh. “We don’t have a lot of time. Authorities aren’t thrilled with us questioning you, but they were… let’s say, swayed. Tell us what happened here?”
“She was tied and tortured in my office after I left night before last. I opened the building in the morning at seven and found her lying on her side, strapped to a chair and wrapped in wire near my desk. Lots of blood.” Josh holds a paper towel over his mouth, then uses it to wipe away perspiration. “When I left the building, she was in the conference room. I have no idea how she ended up in the office. Maybe the cat went in there.” He slides the fedora into his lap.
“Who is she?” Alec asks.
“Benita Alvarez.”
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