Chasing Memories: The Forevermore Series, Book 2 (17 page)

Chapter Thirty

Lucas hefted the last of Evelyn’s files from the box on the floor. He strode down the hall from the conference room to his office at the Acquati hotel in San Francisco, and stacked them on his desk. He’d spent the better part of the day going through carton after carton hunting for the regulatory inspector’s report for the incident at the Young building. He wanted to review it for himself. Try and understand why Amanda believed India and her crew were responsible for what happened. Maybe she misinterpreted a piece of information? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t believe India was at fault.

India… He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Shit.
Why didn’t he tell her the truth from the start? If he had, maybe things might have been different. She didn’t want him. And he wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t humiliate himself. Wouldn’t…let her reject him, too. Not again.

He sat down, shifted the tallest of the three piles in front of him and began sifting through papers one by one. The search would have been easier if Amanda had labeled the damned containers, but no, it appeared she’d dumped everything together with no semblance of order or organization. Served him right for insisting she handle the move without him.

A loud knock pulled him from his thoughts. He peered up. Brett stood in the open doorway.

“I’m about to head out. Is there anything you need before I leave?”

Lucas shook his head.

“I’ll drop off India’s design layouts on my way to the airport. My flight to Miami leaves at three.”

“Okay. Javier called this morning. The restaurant should be done by the end of the week.”

“I’ve got a meeting with the new staff tomorrow. Will you join us?”

Lucas glanced at the stack of papers in front of him. “No. I have a few things I need to take care of here.”

Brett nodded and left.

Lucas pulled the next document from the mound.
Bingo.
He started to scan through. Not two lines in, he crumpled the paper into a ball and swore. A fake report. A good replica to the untrained eye, but anyone with experience could see it lacked the details required in an official write-up.

He called Amanda.

“What do you want?” Amanda’s clipped tone made it clear she hadn’t forgiven him.

“I wanted to talk to you about the incident report you found when packing up Grams’s files.”

“Why do you keep doing this, Lucas? There’s nothing to discuss. It’s all right there in black and white.”

He needed to tread lightly on this. He couldn’t afford to piss her off any more than he’d already done. “Yes, you’re right. It’s all there, but here’s the thing. This is not an official report.”

“Of course it is.”

“I can understand why you’d believe it’s the real thing. It appears to have the appropriate information, but this document wasn’t issued by the regulatory commission.”

Amanda let out a soft little cry. “I don’t understand. Why would Brett tell me, and insist it’s the real thing, if it’s not?”

Lucas sat up straighter in his chair. “Brett told you the document was real?” Why? He’d have realized the report wasn’t certified. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. He’s the one who found it when we started packing up Grams’s office. It sat on top of a pile of files on her desk.”

Yet another thing that didn’t add up. “I’ll look into it and get back to you.”

He lifted a thumb to cut the connection and stopped short. Amanda was right about one thing. He did treat his family like second-class citizens, and they deserved better. “Um…how have you been? How’s Aunt Susan?”

Amanda drew in a startled breath. “I’m well. Mom too.”

“Good. Maybe we can, ah, do dinner tomorrow? I’m heading down to Miami the day after.”

“Yes, let’s.”

A beep interrupted the call. He glanced down. Mark Sampson. “I’ve got an incoming call I need to take. It’s the PI I hired. I’ll let you know if he has anything new.”

“Thanks. How about seven o’clock tomorrow at Scoma’s, down by the Wharf?”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Bye, Lucas.”

“Bye.” He picked up the other line. “What have you got for me?”

“There weren’t any breaches in the security system at your grandmother’s brownstone during the dates you asked me to check, but someone did access the building after hours two days before her death.”

“Who?” He held his breath.

“The ID scanned at the back entrance belonged to Brett Walker.”

Shit.
What logical reason would Brett have for going to the brownstone that night? He’d already completed the work Grams needed him to do two months before. Did she ask for more help he wasn’t aware of?

“Do you want me to check this person out?” Mark asked.

Did he? Brett was his friend. He couldn’t be responsible for what happened at the Young building, or the car accident, or the scaffolding incident in Miami, could he? What reason would he have? Brett liked Grams. He wouldn’t want her dead, and he didn’t even know India. They hadn’t met yet. Still, too many things didn’t add up. “Yes.” He’d apologize later if it turned out he was wrong.

“I’ll need a full name and social security number to start. If you’ve got it handy, I can run a preliminary right now.”

“Hang on a minute. I’ll have to access his personnel file to get what you need.” Lucas called up the information on his laptop, copied what he needed and hit send. “Check your email.”

“Got it. Hold on while I load the stats.”

Lucas tapped his fingers on the tabletop.

“Okay. Brett Ellis Walker.”

“Yes. Is there anything that jumps out at you?”

“Well, this is interesting.” Mark let out a low whistle.

“What?”

“The name is the same, but this social security number belongs to a woman.”

A woman?
“Impossible.”

“I’m not lying. The birth month and date are the same, but the birth year on this file puts her at…forty-seven.”

Lucas closed his eyes and drew in a lung full of air.
What the hell?
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “What can you tell me about her?”

“Let me see.” A short pause followed, and the clicking sound of a keyboard in the background. “Okay. Brett Ellis Walker. Born Brett Ellis Shea.”

Brett’s mother?
No.
She’d died their freshmen year at UC Santa Cruz.
Shea? Shea?
Why did that name seem familiar? “Is she dead?”

“Not according to this. Hang on a second. I want to check something.”

Heart racing, Lucas waited.

“I did a Google search on her. Found an article that says she disappeared under suspicious circumstances, a few months after the death of her son.”

“She had a son?”

“Two actually. Twin boys.”

Twins?
“What are the sons’ names?”

“Brett Ellis Walker.” Mark laughed. “Now there’s a new twist on the whole junior thing. He’s the son that died. Car accident when he was seventeen.”

Like Brett’s brother. “Who was the other twin?”

Another silence and more clicking.

“Victor Raymond Walker.”

Victor Walker. What was India’s ex-boyfriend’s name? Victor Shea. His blood iced over. Victor Walker and Victor Shea were the same person. Had to be.
Shit.
If the real Brett Walker died when he was seventeen, his assistant must be Victor. He’d bet his life on it.

Brett had access to the brownstone, and dear God, he owned a navy Toyota Corolla. He could have rigged the scaffolding to fall before he’d flown back to San Francisco, and Brett could have tried to run them off the road when he and India returned to the scene of Grams’s accident.

Victor wanted India dead. And he’d just sent him to Leone Estates. Where India was staying.
Holy fucking shit!
“I’ve got to go.” He needed to warn India. “Send me the rest of the report and whatever else you can find on all three people ASAP.” He cut the connection and dialed.

Chapter Thirty-One

India sat at the kitchen table and tried to concentrate on finishing up her drawings, but couldn’t focus. More than five hours after the fact, and she still couldn’t get the images of Victor and the other woman out of her head.

The woman’s cries echoed in her mind. She’d heard them. She had. Absolutely, but when she’d stepped into Victor’s apartment that afternoon, no one other than Victor had been there.

He’d passed the begging and pleading off as part of a horror flick he’d been watching on TV. When she hadn’t believed him, he encouraged her to search the place. She did, and found no one.

Apparently Maya, the other woman, left a few minutes after she’d arrived. Victor swore he’d sent her away. Wanted nothing to do with her.

It certainly hadn’t seemed that way to India as she’d stood in the hall watching them. Heck, they’d been all over each other. Yet Maya hadn’t been there when India returned less than fifteen minutes later.

Was Victor telling the truth? Did he make her leave? Were the whimpers she’d heard from a movie on TV? Lord, she didn’t know what to believe.

A loud buzzing pulled her from her morose thoughts. She glanced at her watch. Eleven fifty-five. She turned off the alarm. Brett would be here any minute. She added a few more details to the sketches, placed them in the carrying case along with the samples and set them down on the table.

Her cell rang. Fishing it out of her purse, she glanced at the caller ID. Lucas.
Damn.
She didn’t want to speak to him. Didn’t want to spend any more time thinking about him, daydreaming of what might have been if he hadn’t…oh hell. Who was she kidding? She
wanted
to see him, talk to him. Let him explain. She shouldn’t have left without hearing what he had to say
.

The front bell chimed.

“I’ll get it.”

India glanced up. Sophia paced into the kitchen.

“No. That’ll be Brett, Lucas’s assistant. I’m expecting him. He’s here to pick up my design package.”

“Oh, okay.” Sophia opened the refrigerator and stuck her head inside.

She’d call Lucas back in a few minutes. When they had time to talk. India dropped the phone back inside her purse, picked up the plastic folder and strode to the foyer. Peering through one of the long, rectangular windows flanking each side of the entrance, she found a tall man dressed in faded jeans, a slate-blue button-down shirt with a black jacket, and a ball cap. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he shifted from side to side. A moment of apprehension filled her. She shoved it away. She wasn’t a neurotic psycho, thank you very much, and wouldn’t spend the rest of her life afraid of every little thing. Turning the knob, she thrust open the door.

The man lifted his head and grinned.

“Victor.”

He grabbed her and held her against him. Clamped a hand over her mouth. She tried to scream, but couldn’t.

“You won’t have Lucas to save your sorry ass this time.” He punched her upper arm hard.

Something sharp pierced her skin, then the sensation of cool liquid spread through her shoulder.

Shit, shit, shit.
He’d drugged her, but with what?

Victor dragged her outside. She tried to fight him, get free, but her legs turned rubbery and she couldn’t stand. All she wanted to do was sleep. He must have given her some kind of sedative. Enough to incapacitate her, but not enough to knock her out. She tried to fight it. Tried to focus, but couldn’t. A weighty fog had already settled in her brain.

“You shouldn’t have been there that day.” Victor pulled her along, like a child tugged a ragdoll, across the driveway, over the lush green grass, and behind the outbuildings. “If you hadn’t, none of what happened to you would have.”

“What?” Her question came out more like a tortured moan.

He wrenched open the barn door, yanked her inside. “The wall collapse at Evelyn’s building, the car accident. It’s your fault she’s dead. I didn’t want to kill Evelyn. I liked her. She always made me feel welcome, but I had to stop you.”

India blinked and tried to adjust to the sudden dimness. Victor knew Evelyn? How? He’d been after India only? Evelyn had been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Her brain couldn’t keep up.

“If you hadn’t come over to my place, if you hadn’t seen me with Maya. Everything would have been fine. I was going to dump you anyway to be with her.”

What did that have to do with anything?

“Nobody discards me. Not you, or that bitch, Maya. No one! Do you understand?” He smacked her across the face, and then shoved her away.

India saw stars. She stumbled back, and fell in a heap on the ground.

“Now you have to die.”

He wanted to kill her because she’d dumped him? Maya too?
Shit.
She needed to get a grip and fast, needed to fight this lethargy. If she didn’t he might actually succeed.
Keep him talking.
“I don’t understand.” The slurred words came out as a mumble.

“You’re just like her. Maya too.”

Like who?
What the hell was he talking about?

“You preferred him.”

Preferred who?
He wasn’t making any sense.

Victor paced back and forth. “Why can’t you be as nice as Brett, Victor?”

Who was Brett? Lucas’s assistant? Something niggled at the back of her mind. What she wasn’t sure.

“Why can’t you be as smart as Brett, Victor? You’re not as handsome as Brett, Victor.”

He glared down at her, eyes wild, crazed.
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.
The man was unhinged.

“Why can’t you be more like Brett, Victor? Why can’t you be a better brother to Brett, Victor?”

Brother?
Was Lucas’s assistant Victor’s brother?

“Brett, Brett, Brett. Even after he died she always preferred him.”

Brett died?
No. He’d been very much alive when she’d spoken to him this morning on the phone.

“And you.” Spittle formed in Victor’s mouth. “You preferred him, too, didn’t you?”

Him who?
Brett? She’d never met Brett, had she? An image flashed in her head. She stood at the entrance of Lucas’s office at the Acquati in Miami waiting while he spoke with a man seated in front of his desk. The man seemed familiar. She’d caught a fleeting glimpse of his profile. Strong chiseled jaw, patrician nose.
Ho-ly cow!
Brett was Victor. He had to be.

“You chose him. Thought I didn’t know about that, did you? Well, I do. I’ve been watching you for months. Is he more handsome? Smarter than me? Nicer?”

Who the hell was
he
? She couldn’t keep track.

“He was my friend, my
best
friend, damn it. But he betrayed me, too. Just like Brett. He’ll die. Just like Brett.”

Victor killed his brother?

Victor stopped in mid-stride. Stomped over to where she still lay on the ground. “You let him touch you. Suckle your sweet breasts.”

My best friend.
Was he talking about Lucas?

Victor yanked her upright. Smacked her again. “Push himself inside you. Bitch. And now it’s time to pay for your sins.”

He closed his hands around her throat.

India screamed.