HellKat (25 page)

“Well, they’ll dust for fingerprints, but I’m not expecting them to find anything.” He pressed his shoulder against the doorframe. “Do you know what someone might’ve been looking for?”

“Yeah, but it’s not here.”

He waited for more information. None followed.

“You can’t stay here tonight, Kat. I’ll get some guys to come tomorrow to install a security system.” She nodded. She knew he was right. “You’re bunking with me for the night.”

Her head whipped up. “Like hell I am! There are plenty of hotels I can go to!”

His arms folded in defiance across his broad chest, as if it were already a settled issue.

“I can protect you better at my place.” He held a hand up, shook his head, and interrupted her bluster. “Hotel or not, you’ll be with me either way. So, deal with it, James! You think I crowded you today? You haven’t seen anything yet. We’re doing this my way. And I’m pretty damned sure the horse whisperer’s going to agree with me on this.” A self-satisfied
gotcha
grin plastered his face.

Kat blew the bangs away from her eyes, her frustration boiling over. Damn, she hated it when he was right.

****

She nosed around Dan’s warehouse loft; he’d been in the middle of renovations when they’d had their blowout breakup. One word: gorgeous. Sleek and masculine, like Dan. He’d intended on her moving into this open space with him. Had he divulged that critical piece of information before purchasing the enviable Manhattan square footage? No. Because he’d believed his grand gesture, after the fact, would melt her icy heart … bitter words once spoken never to be unheard. From there, the downward spiral had devolved into an epic battle. Picture bighorn rams head butting in the wild.

After walking through the door tonight, he’d armed his high-end security system to ensure she couldn’t escape, then told her to make herself at home while he made a client call from his home office. His muted tone carried through the door. She circled in place, absorbing the open layout with its exposed brick and ductwork and impressive floor to ceiling windows. The stainless steel appliances, espresso cabinetry, and slate fireplace competed for top billing with the impressive view of the city.

She smiled at her friend’s success. Dan Walsh had done exceptionally well for a blue-collar boy from the Bronx. The man was smart, and driven, more than most. He’d used his football scholarship at Columbia to pull himself out of the poverty he’d been born into, and to make a name for himself in a city where almost no one stood out.

They’d bumped into each other a lifetime ago at a crowded fraternity party and had hit it off right away after his size-thirteen shoe had crushed her size seven. He’d had the dark good looks she’d always favored, plus a wicked sense of humor; the winning combination had kept her attention much longer than the other boys had. And over the years, she had loved taking him to family dinners—which drove Sarah James crazy. None of them ever liked Dan. His pedigree simply didn’t measure up and never would in their jaded eyes, no matter what he accomplished. They had told her to stop slumming, stop bringing stray dogs home. As usual, she’d ignored them. Dan had been in on the game, of course. He’d understood her motivation and had played along like a true friend. Tormenting the James family had been a favorite pastime of theirs over the years.

Melancholy weighed heavy on her chest. Her family … What the hell did the label
family
even mean anymore?

“Kat.” Dan tapped her arm with his cell phone. He gestured for her to take it, and then walked away toward the kitchen.

She pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Just answer one question. Were you ever gonna call and tell me what happened tonight?” Tucker’s voice was tense, stressed.

Her eyes slammed shut; a throb jabbed behind them. She grumbled under her breath and stalked toward the granite countertop where Dan casually leaned back against the edge, favorite microbrew in hand. She gave him the stink eye. His mouth curved in a satisfied smile, and he winked as he took a swig.

“Kat!”

Tucker’s sharp tone vaporized the image of her hands around Dan’s throat, choking the life out of him.

“Yes, of course I was!” She sounded bitchy but hadn’t meant to. Her nerves had frayed today, probably much like his. She glanced over her shoulder as she headed for privacy and saw Dan tracking her movement. She slammed the door shut on his smug grin.

“Just deciding what you were gonna leave out before you called? Is that it? Is that why I had to hear it all from
him
?” Tucker’s voice sounded strained, tinged with a hint of jealously, and probably doubt about his decision to leave.

She plopped down in Dan’s leather chair and angled her elbows on the desk blotter, a palm pressed to her forehead. She reeled in her instinct to bite back and instead spoke from her heart. “I miss you.” She heard the release of pressure on his end, the anxiety leaving his lungs. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I—”

“I wish I were there too.”

“I don’t. I’d rather be where you are right now. I feel like I can’t breathe here.”

“What’s goin’ on, Kat? What happened today?”

She sat back, searched around the room for a starting point, and finally rested her sights among the many trophies and awards gleaming in a lit display case. Then the day’s events spilled out in chronological order. All of it. The face-off at the hotel with Parker and the board, Kyle’s entrance and exit, the news story about Rose Kelley, and finally her ransacked apartment and the top-of-the-line security system being installed tomorrow.

He listened without interruptions. She did her best to calm him, to reassure him she would continue to keep her word and not meet Parker alone—anywhere. She explained to him everything had been handled, that he could trust Dan to keep her safe until he returned to do it himself.

After all, she knew Dan bothered him most. Another man filling in for him, doing what he saw as his job. Then she convinced him not to take the next flight out, to stay in Montana where he needed to be, for right now.

“I really am fine, Tucker, I’m not just saying that. I don’t want you coming back here before you’ve had a chance to handle everything you need to out there. I mean it. I’ve got this covered. I’m not going to do anything stupid.” She chuckled. “Your annoying overpriced bodyguard will make sure of that.”

The tensions had eased.

“He’d damned well better. That’s what I’m payin’ him the big bucks for. You do what he tells you to do, even if you don’t like. Let him do his job. This is serious, Kat. I need to know you’re safe so I can get this mess here handled and get back to you as soon as possible.”

She needed to change the subject before he talked himself back into taking the next flight to JFK. “How is it going out there?”

The squeaking told her he’d reclined in the comfy chair in his home office, rocked in it now. The sound of his hand scrubbing over his whiskered face made her close her eyes, imagine herself sitting across from him, the big old weathered desk between them.

“Well, I’m meeting the site manager and some inspectors at one of the copper mines tomorrow. I’m expecting a long day, but I’m optimistic.” He sighed. “It’ll all work out.”

She smiled at his last statement, the Tucker Williams motto. She’d needed to hear it, hear his voice.

“Hey, turn around and look out your window.” His seat complained as it rotated. “You really need to oil your chair, Williams.” He laughed in agreement. “Is your big sky filled with stars tonight?” She could picture the smile on his face.

“Yeah, just full of ’em.”

“Like those nights we slept underneath them?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Yeah, just like those nights.” His voice was distant, wistful.

A long pause filled the space and distance as their memories met and mingled, lingered in that time and place.

“God, I wish we were there now.” Her whisper was distressed with the weight of the day, the burden of the unearthed past, and the unknown future lurking around the corner.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.” She did as he asked. “We are.” His words, thick with sentiment, curled the corners of her lips and lifted the ache from her heart.

The thick aroma of coffee and the sizzle of bacon opened Kat’s lids. She rolled in the direction of the heavenly scents, belly rumbling in response. Dan stood at the kitchen island, dress shirt on, Windsor knotted tie flung over his shoulder as he worked on breakfast in swift, no-nonsense strokes. He still looked pissed. The tight line of his lips, the hard set of his jaw, the line jammed between his brows. The man could hold a grudge, refuse to let go even when there was nothing to hold on to.

She rubbed at her bloodshot eyes, still exhausted after the twelve rounds with him that had lasted into the early morning hours. No knockout punches. No breaks in a corner. A draw. No winners. The man stayed tenacious and rooted in the past, convinced they could work out the disagreements between them. Dan Walsh remained the most stubborn person she’d ever known.

Except for herself.

Last night’s contentious bickering had caused a headache of flashbacks to their earlier demise and only cemented in her mind the necessity of her decision last year. Dan had wanted to change the rules, the nature of their dynamic, for a more traditional setup encouraged by society at large. At first his spiel had felt like a gentle nudge; but when he didn’t get the progress or concessions he’d wanted, he bulldozed ahead as if she’d back down in the face of his male bluster. Right. And then they imploded. And she’d lost a great friend in the fallout, a high cost she would always regret.

Notwithstanding her icy heart.

She snorted and sat up, stretched, and then sank back against the comfortable leather sofa. To this day he insisted she would’ve only needed to tweak a few minor things. Her attitude for one, and then they could’ve been perfect together.
If she didn’t have to wear the pants all the time. If she could be even a little dependent on him, once in a while. If she’d be willing to rein in her workaholic tendencies, even a bit. If she’d just considered the idea of kids and letting him take care of her
.
Had he really been asking for too much from her? Was he really an asshole for wanting those things with her?

She drew in a deep breath and yawned. She’d always loved how the men in her past had focused on her flaws, real or imagined, instead of on their own. Thankfully, a cowboy from Montana had changed all that. She shook her head as she watched Dan, still unaware he was being observed.

She jumped when her phone vibrated to life on the coffee table in front of her, yanking her back to the present. The picture on the screen made her blood run cold. She held the cell up and stared at the image. Dan came into focus above her, his expression curious. She pushed the phone up toward his face so he could get a good look. His eyes widened.

Kat cleared her throat and accepted the call with a tap. “Well, well, I’m surprised it took you this long to call. Were you and Parker getting your stories straight,
Sarah
?” Her eyes flicked to Dan, now perched on the coffee table.

“That’s in very poor taste, Kathryn. Not to mention disrespectful.”

“The last thing you’re going to get from me is respect.” She leaned back, stretched her legs, and plopped her feet beside Dan. “Is your psycho son listening in right now?”

“That is quite enough, Kathryn!” Her voice was shrill, lacking its usual control and authority. “We need to talk. Just the two of us. Today. I’ll even ask Terrence to prepare your favorite.” The words sounded forced, her upper-crust aloofness shaken.

“My favorite what, Sarah? You don’t have a clue what my favorite
anything
is. And you obviously take me for an idiot, if you think I’m going to meet you in private, anywhere
.
” Dan nodded in agreement. “Especially without a food taster.” Her words dripped with sarcasm and loathing.

An indignant huff blasted through the phone followed by unintelligible bluster. “It’s imperative we talk, put to rest the absurd ramblings of a man who was in pain, incoherent, and heavily medicated. Your father was not of sound mind when you last saw him, Kathryn. You simply cannot trust anything he might have said to you.”

Kat contemplated her next turn in the dangerous maze. “Did you see the news last night, Sarah? Watch it with Parker? Strategize afterwards on how best to handle me.” Her focus swung to Dan, the shadowed planes of his face intense. “Of course, you can’t believe everything the news reports, can you? I’m sure you’ve been as upset by the stories circulating in the tabloids as I’ve been.” Kat pushed off the sofa and moved to a tall window.

“Then again, maybe not. This is, after all, the first time you’ve contacted me since the reading of my father’s will. So I can only assume you’re quite pleased with the smear campaign you and
others
have orchestrated against me.” The line was quiet, except for Sarah’s uneven breathing punctuating the silence. “As long as it keeps you and
yours
in a positive light, you don’t give a shit about me.” A cold chuckle bubbled past Kat’s lips. “Except now, you kind of have to. Don’t you, Sarah.”

A phone call would never suffice. Kat wanted to sit across from this bitch one last time.

“I’ll have Stella rearrange my schedule just for you, Mother Dearest. Be in my office at two o’clock; you know, the big corner suite my father occupied.” She disconnected just as the sputtering rebuttal started.

Dan’s reflection in the window grew larger, closing the gap between them. He held coffee mugs in each hand and passed one off to her, his black as night, hers the rich color of caramel. Apparently, he still remembered how she liked her morning fix.

“You seem like you’re actually enjoying this shit.” He blew carefully over the rim of his mug. Steam swirled in front of his handsome face as he took a sip, all the while his questioning eyes remained locked on hers.

She turned his words over in her mind. Stark images and visceral memories flooded her brain. The James family was an aloof, calculating bunch. They had always organized and operated more like a business with profit margins and branding campaigns than a real flesh-and-blood family, at least in any Hallmark movie sense. The James clan met the definition of family only in its barest description: they were a group of related people—mostly.

“I suppose a part of me does. The part of me that wants to make them squirm, make them agonize over the end of their world, knowing all the while it’s me who will expose them.
Me
. The one who didn’t quite measure up, the one who wouldn’t play by their rules. The one they’ve lied to and held in contempt from the beginning.”

She brought the hot mug to her lips and fueled her tank.

“I want to yank the noose tight before I kick the stool out from under their feet. It’s what they deserve. And make no mistake, if my father were still alive,” her face darkened, “I’d make him pay too.”

****

She phoned Tucker before heading to JAMESCO and told him of the upcoming meeting with Sarah, promising to fill him in later with the details. She’d learned her lesson last night, knew she needed to keep him in the loop. No way would she let Dan show her up again like he had last night. He’d enjoyed himself at her, and Tucker’s, expense a bit too much. Regardless of what her ex-lover, ex-boyfriend, ex-whatever-the-hell-he’d-been wanted to believe, she
was
making progress in the couples’ department.

Baby steps for some, monumental leaps for her.

Dan sat off in a corner biding his time. He hadn’t stood when the matriarch entered the wide angular space. Kat wasn’t sure Sarah had even noticed him with his head propped against his thumb and forefinger, ankle resting on his knee, foot jiggling in a frenzy, a sharp contrast from his otherwise placid demeanor. Kat hadn’t bothered to stand either when Sarah crossed the threshold, preferred to recline in her father’s chair, hands linked in her lap.

Sarah stood in front of the ornately carved executive desk, her face marked with irritation, expectancy, and the march of time. Her lips pursed in obvious disdain at having been kept waiting for almost a half hour while Kat had done not one damned thing in particular. She knew what Miss Manners wanted, her body twitching with impatience in front of her. And she wasn’t about to follow etiquette with this woman.

“Do you remember Dan Walsh, Sarah?” The older woman’s lines deepened and she appeared confused, caught off guard. Kat’s eyes drifted to the brooding hulk in the corner. “I brought him to some clambakes, a Fourth of July or two at the beach house, dinners at the penthouse …” Her attention skipped back to Sarah. “You always hated it so much whenever I brought him, I thought you might remember.” Kat flashed a smile so quick it barely qualified.

Sarah glanced at Dan as if he held a tin cup and a placard begging for spare change. She shook her head in apparent antipathy and barely concealed disgust as her focus rejoined Kat’s, her veined hands clutching even tighter the Prada bag in her grasp.

“I can’t say I do, Kathryn. But then again,” her cold eyes flicked to her manicured nails, “you brought so
many
men home over the years.”

The woman’s arrogant stance seemed to waver under Kat’s shrewd scrutiny.

“Careful, Sarah. You don’t want to smile too much. That horrendous lipstick you’ve painted on will bleed out into all those cracks.”

The smugness vanished.

A snort and chuckle echoed from the corner.

“You can leave now, Dan. I can handle it from here.”

Kat’s eyes never left Sarah’s.

“Want me to pat her down before I step outside?” He moved beside the woman, hands out, ready for a feel. The indignant woman huffed and inched away.

“Nah, not necessary. Her type never does their own dirty work. They just pay someone else.”

Dan sighed as if genuinely disappointed. “Well, all right, but I’ll be right outside the door. Holler if you need me.”

“I certainly will. Thank you.” The door clicked shut.

The two women stared daggers at one another.

“Well?” Sarah finally muttered with annoyance.

“If you’re waiting for an invitation to sit, forget it. You can stand on your head or sit on your ass for all I care.”

Sarah’s eyes flared. “How dare you speak to me that way! You have always been ungrateful. I’m your mother and I’ve always done what I felt was best for you. No matter how much you fought me at every turn.”

She straightened her back and smoothed the front of her red Armani swing jacket, her emotions closer to the surface than Kat had ever witnessed.

“What you’ve done to your brother is reprehensible and nearly unforgiveable, Kathryn. Sending police to his home last night. What a disgrace to implicate him in your problems. Not to mention embarrassing him in front of the board with your
uncertain
power.”

Kat’s lips quirked in amusement.

“Oh, I’m more than certain about my power, and you will be too before you leave here. And the fact that your concern is for the police merely questioning Parker’s whereabouts last night, rather than the fact someone broke into my home,” Kat’s eyes bore into Sarah’s, “is to be expected, I guess. But none of that is why you’re really here, and we both know it.” Kat paused, sized up the woman before her. An aura of insecurity surrounded Sarah James.

“You’re here to find out what I know. You’re here to find out if you’re going to lose your standing among New York’s elite.” Kat smirked. “I’ll give you a hint. You’re going to lose your seat on the executive committee for the Viennese Opera Ball for starters. As a matter of fact, I’m certain you won’t be in attendance at all. The diplomats and dignitaries and the rest of high society won’t want the stink of
your
bad press to taint their charity gala.”

Sarah blinked back disbelief even as her pale pallor receded further, but she recovered.

“You need to think about the family you have remaining, Kathryn. You need to think about how your actions and decisions affect all of us, not to mention the legacy of JAMESCO.” She cleared her throat and steadied her posture. “I can assure you whatever it is you
think
you know, you are wrong. You have to take into consideration your father’s state of mind when you saw him at the hospital.”

“So you’ve said.” Kat leaned forward and folded her arms on the desktop. “Let’s cut to the chase. What I
know
is that your son is a monster, and you’ve been covering for him for thirty-eight years. You’re complicit in the murder of Rose Kelley—my real mother.” Sarah’s knees buckled and she dropped into the wingback behind her. “She’s the only
family
I’m thinking about right now.”