Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 (27 page)

“Too bad.”

“You okay?”

“No.”

“Tell me.” He leans against the wall but doesn’t approach me.

“That fucker has done enough already.”

“Gabriella …” His voice carries a warning. “The last time you said something like this, you went after Danny and almost got yourself killed. Please, swear to me you won’t do anything off-the-charts crazy like that. The dragon is WAY beyond your capability.”

I huff, “I know, and it’s so damn frustrating.”

He pushes himself away from the wall and saunters over to where I stand. His hands thread their way into my hair. “You seem off tonight. Let’s get in bed and just hold each other. I need your body wrapped around me.”

There’s something about simply holding the one you love, and having him hold you in return, having him tell you he gets you, he gets that you need that wall of solid strength to lean on, to rely on in times like these. Because without him, you feel weak and empty, and he fuels you, gives you the power to endure. And it’s not about the sex. Not about the lust. It’s about something deeper. Something so elemental and primal, it’s as necessary as air and water. That’s what Kolson is to me. My spark of life.

***

It’s not until the following week that I realize I’ve made a grave error. How can inviting your friends to dinner turn out to be such a devastating event? Have such far-reaching consequences?

My office is abuzz with activity as Jack hands me several contracts, along with proposals for other possible deals he’s been negotiating. He wants me to entertain the thought of sitting in on a meeting with him. I vacillate, arguing that I’m not ready. He disagrees.

My computer screen has a newsfeed at the top. I happen to glance at it, and my cell phone buzzes at the same time. Then my “secret” phone pings with a text.

What the hell?

“Excuse me, Jack.”

He smiles while I answer.

“Case. What’s up?”

“Have you seen the news?”

“Not yet. I was getting ready to read it on my computer. Why?”

“Sit, Gabs.”

“Oookay. You’re freaking me out. I got a text too.”

“No, not that. It’s, um …”

“Goddammit, Case! Tell me.”

“It’s Cara. They found her body this morning in her apartment.”

“Whawhahwha …” The phone falls out of my hand.

Jack runs and picks it up and speaks with Case. I’m not sure what they say. All I know is Cara had dinner at my place last week and now she’s dead. And I know who killed her.

How many more “messages” is Langston Hart going to send me?

“Jack, I need some privacy, please.”

“Absolutely.”

He leaves and I look up DWI’s number. I ask to speak to Gemini or Drex. Drex comes on the line.

“We may need to move this plan up.”

“Gabby. What happened?”

“He just murdered one of my best friends.”

I hear his breath whistle as he lets it out. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Fuck no.”

“I don’t mean mentally. I mean physically. Did you put a bodyguard team in place?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

He ends the call.

Cara. Tough, brilliant, beautiful, witty, never-hurt-anyone Cara. Dead. At his hands. Fucking bastard.

My door busts open and Case stands there.

“How?” I ask.

“Gunshots. Three to the chest, one to the head.”

I’m afraid to ask but I
have
to know. “Do you think she suffered?”

“No.”

Closing my eyes, I nod.
He
will. I don’t care how. I’ll see that he does. I bend down and retrieve my messenger bag and handbag.

“I’m going home. Come with me.”

He follows me out the door, along with my human pillars. I’m seething and I don’t know what to do. I want to cry and scream and punch someone, but the one I want to take it out on is out of reach.

Sky calls. She and Ryder are on their way over too. I call Sam and tell him he needs to put a team on both of them again, as well as Case.

We all sit in the den. “I’m a bad-luck charm, guys.”

No one knows what to say. It’s surreal, sitting here.

“Did she have any family? Who’s taking care of her funeral arrangements?”

Sky answers, “I think her parents are flying in from San Francisco. You know how they weren’t close. I guess they’ll fly her body home.”

“We have to have a memorial service here,” I say.

“You know what?” Sky says. “She wouldn’t want that. She would want us to go to one of her favorite hangouts and toast her to the heavens.”

“You’re right. Should we at least talk to her parents?”

“You could try. They might like
you
since you’re respectable. They never wanted to have anything to do with any of her friends because of her profession. She was nothing but trash to them.”

Respectable? Me? Right. I’m the one responsible for their daughter’s death.

My gut stings as guilt consumes me. Why did I invite them here? Because I was afraid to go out. Consequently, Cara is dead.

My eyes lock with Case’s and he shakes his head. I think he’s telling me he understands my guilt. But how can he? He’s not the one who is responsible for this.

“Anyone want a drink?” I ask.

Case and Ryder laugh. Recovering addicts don’t drink.

“Right. Sorry about that.” I say. “Sky, what about you?”

“No, it’s a bit early.”

I look at the clock—it’s only eleven in the morning. “Fuck! I feel like it’s midnight. Case, can you check to see when Cara’s parents are getting into town? I’d like to talk to them.”

“Yeah. I’ll call my buddy down at the station.”

“Can you see if they have any leads yet? Do you think you should mention Langston to them?”

“It wouldn’t do any good. Langston would have someone else do his dirty work,” Case responds. “But I’ll check on the leads. I doubt they’ll release that information to me though.”

I think how much I wish I could go back in time and remove my connection with her. But it’s not possible. The monster took it and ran. I hope I get a call soon from Drex Wolfe so we can get this ball rolling.

When I walk into the studio that evening, Kolson is there, waiting for me. Neither of us says a word; we just walk into each other’s arms. It’s the security I need. The strength. He walks me to the bathroom and helps me brush my teeth. Then he undresses me and we climb under the covers. This is where I let it all go. I’ve held it together like loosely constructed toothpicks, but I fly apart when he pulls me to his side.

I’m not sure how much more of Langston I can take.

***

The following afternoon, I arrange to meet Cara’s parents at their hotel. I’ve dressed carefully, wanting to send them a message, mainly that their daughter was not just a lowly streetwalker. I’m wearing a cream-colored silk blouse, a gray, knee-length pencil skirt, and black Christian Louboutin pumps. All designer brands, chic and expensive. I accessorize with a Hermes scarf and a Louis Vuitton handbag. 

Mr. Lee is cold and distant, nothing like his daughter. Mrs. Lee, on the other hand, looks as though she’s been crying. Her eyes are swollen and red, but her posture tells a different story. Is she too proud to admit it? Or is Mr. Lee overbearing and controlling enough to tell her to rein in her emotions? Cara rarely talked about her family and when she did, it was always with sadness. She said they were unsupportive and unloving and looking at the picture before me, it doesn’t take much imagination to see that.

I introduce myself. They think I’m a prostitute, like Cara, but are shocked to find out their daughter was friends with a psychiatrist.

“Why were
you
friends with someone like our daughter?” asks Mr. Lee.

He is so arrogant, I immediately dislike him. Mrs. Lee raises a tissue to her eyes and dabs the tears that dribble past her lids.

“Your daughter was a brilliant, caring, beautiful, wonderful friend. She was always there when I needed her. She was truly a special person. Whether you choose to believe it, Cara was not a streetwalker. You may not want to hear this, but she was a lovely human being.”

My heart aches for Mrs. Lee. She feels the loss of a child and of a young woman she never got the chance to know and love. It’s etched all over her face. It’s embedded in her stiff movements and the way her body seems like it will break into tiny pieces at any moment. Mr. Lee, on the other hand, is standoffish and acts like an ass who cares nothing for the loss of his daughter or for the fact that his wife is grieving.

“Ms. Martinelli.”

“It’s
Dr
. Martinelli.”

“Yes, well, our daughter sold herself to men.”

“Richard, please. Cara was our daughter,” Mrs. Lee mumbles in such a broken manner, I’m not quite sure if I heard her correctly.

“Well, she did,” he insists.

“Yes, she did. But perhaps the reason she did so was because she never received any love or affection from you.” Mrs. Lee says.

“I don’t care to be chastised by you right now,” Mr. Lee says.

“And I don’t care to hear you disparage our daughter, either.”

“I’d prefer not to hear it myself. She was one of my best friends.” I seethe.

“You surprise me,” Mr. Lee says.

“Oh, why’s that?”

“You don’t seem like the type of person that would be friends with a …”

I try to control my anger but it bleeds into my words. “You obviously didn’t hear a word I’ve said. I don’t choose my friends based on who or what they are. Cara was a beautiful person, inside and out. And it’s a shame you never allowed yourself the chance to get to know her. I would like to know the names of Cara’s younger sisters.”

“Why?”

Normally I would never do this—throw around the title, but he is so uncaring and haughty, I can’t stop myself. “Because as the CEO of Hart Transportation Services, I’m going to set up a memorial in Cara’s name in a home for abused women and children that will also be linked to a rehab facility. I’d like to fly them out for the dedication when that happens. We haven’t broken ground yet, but when everything is complete, I’d like to invite them to the ceremonies, since their sister will be honored.”

Mr. Lee responds, “I don’t think they’ll be interested.”

“Don’t you think that should be their choice, Richard?” Mrs. Lee asks.

“Not really.”

I interject. “It doesn’t matter. My security team will locate them.” And then I look at Mrs. Lee because I couldn’t give a damn about her pompous-ass husband. “Again, I’m terribly sorry for your loss. Cara’s friends and I will miss her terribly. The world has lost one of its brightest stars. Good day.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Kolson

Langston is out of control, and I don’t know what to do. If I turn myself into him, I’m sure he’ll kill me and then go after Gabriella. I need more evidence on him, but all my information is old and leads to nowhere. If I could only get into his personal files, but everything I’ve tried has failed. All my efforts in hacking into the Hart Entertainment computer system haven’t worked. I am no expert, but I do know my way around a bit. Even though, I’m positive Langston wouldn’t keep his personal information on the company system. I have to figure out where it is and I think Gabriella is right. Kestrel may be the key.

When I walk into Russell Investigative Services, there are bodyguards everywhere and they frisk me. They don’t recognize me, thank God, and I don’t recognize them, either. I hope to hell Tom has vetted these guys and they’re not on the dragon’s payroll.

They escort me into Case’s office and when the door closes behind me, I sink into the chair across from him. We don’t speak for a while. Words are hard to come by.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Not really. This is all a bit much. How’s Gabs?”

“Not good. She saw Cara’s parents late yesterday and was in bad shape last night. It’s why I’m here. We’ve got to stop him and I’m at a dead end.”

“Don’t do anything, man.”

“Case, I can’t sit by and allow him to murder innocent people.”

“You think I can?”

“No! That’s not what I meant! I need to
do
something.”

“You try and you’ll end up in the damn morgue. And then how will Gabby feel? Have you asked yourself that?”

I know people. I’ve studied them. I’m a whiz in business dealings. I worked with my father for years in the gambling business. I can tell when someone is hiding something. Case is hiding something from me.

“Why, Case? What’s going on?”

He refuses to meet my eyes.