One More Taste (20 page)

Knox finished his drink, then spun the glass onto the table near his boots. “What do you think all this is about? Me, being here.” He pointed to the ceiling. “I'm here to deliver a big
fuck you
on behalf of my dad.”

“You'll never get away with this.”

Looks like they were on to the empty threat portion of the conversation. “Get away with what? I could sue you for falsifying documents. It's in the contract that I could. Hell, I'm pretty sure I could have you arrested, using this tape I just made of our conversation as evidence.” He made a show of stopping the recording.

All that bright red color drained from Ty's face. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Why not? Let me hear you say it this time.” Knox cupped is ear. “Because we're family?”

“You bastard. What do you want from me?”

Knox ignored the question while he uploaded the recording to a zip drive, then pocketed it. He brought his legs to the ground, then stood and shook them out. “Good question. And we'll get to that. But, first, the engineers are waiting, so let's get going.” He adjusted his hat, then buttoned his sports coat. “One last thing. I won't sue you, Ty. I've got better things to do with my time. And I won't tell your family or your employees just yet, either.

“All I ask is that you remember that I didn't take anything from you. You did this to yourself. You were bleeding this resort dry, overextending your assets. But it's okay because you invited my colleagues and me to this party and we'll take it from here. Your pride's wounded, but you know this is the right move. I'm the future of this company, not you. The sooner you get on board with that idea, the easier your life will be. And I'm sure we can come up with a great retirement package for you when you're ready.”

Ty blocked Knox's passage to the door. “You show up here with your entitlement, but you're not entitled to shit. I will not be defeated so easily, boy.”

Lucky for Knox that he'd never expected Ty to make it easy on him. “You're afraid, but that's natural. Change is hard.”

“What's your long game?” Ty said in a low rumble.

Know squared a look at him. “You sure you want to know?”

With a growl, Ty whirled around and smacked the scotch bottle off the table. The glass shattered and the room filled with the noxious fumes of evaporating alcohol.

“I'll take that as a yes. It's simple, really. I'm going to bring the resort back from the brink of disaster and make it greater than it's ever been.”

“And then what?”

Knox debated coming clean, then decided there was no harm in it. “And then, I'm going to strip
Briscoe
from its name and I'm going to sell it to the highest corporate bidder.”

“You wouldn't dare,” he whispered.

Knox sniffed. “Do you ever miss Clint? He was your sole brother, only a year and a half apart in age. You could've had each other's backs, but you turned your back on him, and on my mom, and on me and my siblings. You did that, you and Tyson. When Tyson died, my dad didn't get a penny. He had to scrape his way through life to make ends meet. And now you want me to show you mercy? You want me to pretend that I care what happens to you a year from now? Two years from now?”

The only sound in the room was Ty's angry breaths taken through flared nostrils.

“What did you think was gonna happen when you brought me here, Ty? What'd you think?”

Ty seemed to collect himself all at once. The rage in his eyes transformed to determination. “Nothin's happened yet.” Proud words, though his voice betrayed him by cracking once.

Knox didn't think he'd ever had a more satisfying business meeting in all his life. This moment and the look on Ty's face, along with the desperate quality to his voice, were going to sustain Knox for a lot of years to come. Long after he'd remodeled the resort and sold it away.

 

Chapter Eleven

Friday night, Emily was stirring a pot of grits in Knox's kitchen when the doorbell rang. Carina, who'd texted Emily an hour ago begging for grits and pickled shrimp again. She hoped Knox didn't mind her inviting Carina to his house without his permission. Ever since Knox and Emily's momentary insanity at his mother's house, Emily had done her best to play by the rules and keep her distance from him. She'd even managed to keep her unwanted lusting to a minimum, thanks to Haylie's help serving dinner every night.

But even if Knox would've minded Carina's presence in his house, it was early enough in the workday that he'd probably never find out, and Emily wasn't willing to make Carina wait to have her crazy cravings satisfied.

She opened the front door to Carina, who was showing off her baby bump in a body-contouring royal blue sweater dress. Judging by her wide-eyed, awed expression, she was impressed by the grandeur of Knox's digs. She entered the foyer, her head on a swivel. “So this is his house.”

“This is it.”

“I've never been on this property before. I didn't realize so much space was back up in these hills. And this house … it's so modern. I can see why he bought it. It reminds me of him.”

“How so?” Emily asked.

Carina lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Some might call it sleek and sophisticated, but I think it's kind of cold and detached.”

That's what Carina thought of Knox? Cold and detached? On what planet? “I don't get that vibe from him at all. Quite the opposite.”

Carina leveled a teasing look at Emily, tapping a finger on her chin. “Let me guess. What's the opposite of cold? Oh yeah, you think he's hot.”

Carina had no idea how right she was, and Emily wasn't about to fill her in. “You're really getting a lot of mileage out of that joke.”

“I do my best. I smell something yummy other than my grits. Is that chili?”

“Frito Pie. It was Knox's dad's favorite and I got ahold of his family recipe. Not that I'm sticking to it very closely.”

“Genius idea.”

“Let's hope Knox thinks so, too. Come on into the kitchen. Your grits are about done.”

Carina rubbed Emily's back as they walked. “You're not only a genius, but a life saver.”

Emily sat Carina at the kitchen table and placed a steaming bowl of grits in front of her. While Carina looked on in rapt wonderment, Emily grated aged cheddar over the grits.

“Sure you don't want any shaved black truffles on that?” Emily asked.

Carina licked her lips. “Uh-uh. This is perfect.”

“Great. Your pickled shrimp will be right up.” While she dug in, Emily pulled the jar of pickled shrimp from the fridge, then set to work chopping parsley to garnish it with.

She was nearly done when Carina's cell phone rang. When Carina saw the read-out, she let her spoon fall from her hand. It landed on the table with a clatter. “Oh, please, no, God…”

The shift in Carina's mood was lightning-quick, calm to panic in an instant as she accepted the call. Emily set down her knife and listened. Her pulse quickened, though she had no idea what was happening.

“It's Haylie's neighbor,” Carina said, answering. Her face turned white as she listened to whoever was on the line. “Is the yelling still going on?”

Dread sank like a rock in Emily's stomach. “What is it?” she whispered.

Carina ignored the question. She reached a hand out and gripped Emily's sleeve. “Breaking glass? Are you sure?”

The tone of Carina's voice, the call from the worried neighbor, yelling and breaking glass … Emily knew what those signifiers meant.

“Mrs. Cordera, would you go knock on their door? See if you can disrupt it,” Carina said. “I'm calling 9-1-1. I'll be there as fast as I can.”

Emily couldn't decide where to direct her anger—at Wendell, at Carina, or at herself for, apparently, not being good enough to be trusted with the information. Clearly, Haylie and Wendell's marriage wasn't just dysfunctional. This went way beyond Wendell having control issues and Haylie needing to learn to stand up for herself, as Carina had led her to believe. “He's hurting her, isn't he?”

Carina dialed 9-1-1, then turned terrified eyes on Emily as the phone rang. “Yes, hello, um, I think my sister's in danger. I just got a call from her neighbor about a fight between her and her husband, and I have reason to believe it's getting physically violent.”

Emily's heart sank. Hearing the words, calling the police. This was real. This was happening. While Carina filled the dispatcher in on the details, Emily grabbed her purse from its spot in the pantry, then gathered Carina's purse and keys. At the last moment, she remembered she had dinner on the stove. She turned off the heat, but didn't bother to do anything to preserve the food. None of that mattered now in the face of Haylie's danger.

“I'll start the car,” she mouthed to Carina.

Emily climbed into the driver's seat of Carina's car, which was newer and faster than Emily's. Carina didn't question the choice. In a daze, she sank into the passenger seat, gripping her cell phone too hard. On the drive, Carina dialed Haylie's cell phone and texted her over and over, to no avail.

“I don't understand what Haylie's doing home, anyway. It's the middle of a workday,” Carina said.

“She was in Knox's office, cleaning up broken glass when I delivered Knox's breakfast around nine. I guess the bottle of scotch tipped over. Or maybe Haylie bumped into it. She didn't say. Anyhow, Knox was already out and about with some building inspectors, she told me. Maybe he let her go early because it's Friday.” After a moment's deliberation, Emily added, “This isn't the first time, is it? There's a reason you have Haylie's neighbor's number programmed into your phone.”

Carina's attention slipped to the window. “No. This isn't the first time.”

Emily pushed Carina's car even faster and gripped the steering wheel harder so she wouldn't shake like Carina. She wished she could be mad at Carina for misleading her about Haylie's situation. It would be so much less scary to be angry at her friend than at a monster like Wendell. But focusing her outrage and fear on Carina would only be deflecting. Still, she wanted to know why Carina hadn't felt comfortable being honest.

“I would've been there for you and Haylie,” Emily said. “I would've tried to help even. I wish you would have felt comfortable confiding in me.”

“I'm sorry. I've only known for a couple months, and not because Haylie told me. I saw bruises on her arms. You know I've been trying to get her out of the situation, but she won't leave him. Heck, she won't even admit he's abusing her. She keeps swearing that they're happy and everything's okay. I don't know what to do. She's desperate for no one to know. I realized right away that I couldn't tell anyone because if it got back to my dad, he'd make the situation even worse.”

That was the truth. Emily could easily imagine what Ty would do if he found out that his little princess was being abused. “He'd kill Wendell. He'd storm in and shoot the bastard dead.”

“He would. And then he'd go to jail for murder. Or, if he didn't succeed, he'd make Wendell look like the victim in Haylie's mind. She's so brainwashed that she'd do anything to defend Wendell, like she does to me anytime I suggest he's less than a perfect husband. Even worse, if my dad or I spooked Wendell, what if he left Texas and took Haylie with him? You know he would. They'd disappear, and then what could I do to try to save her? Nothing. It seemed safer to keep them here and try to convince her to leave him.”

Emily hadn't considered the possibility of Haylie and Wendell leaving, but Carina was right. That would be devastating for everyone and put Haylie in even more danger.

Carina continued, “I've been trying everything, reading books on how to help battered wives leave their husbands, trying to get Haylie into therapy. I've contacted shelters and gotten information about how to get Haylie out of the situation when she's ready, but I don't know what else to do. She has to find the courage to take that step. I can't make her save herself.”

Emily reached across the seat and took Carina's hand. “You're doing the best you can.”

“So many times, I tried to tell you, but with your history with your father, I wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do. You hate talking about your past and I didn't want to trigger anything. And I didn't want you to spring into action and spook Wendell into taking off with Haylie. I've been so scared.”

“Does Decker know?”

Carina shook her head. “No. He'd confront Wendell as fast as my dad would. I just can't … The situation is too delicate to bring too many people into the fold.”

“Except now, you called the cops. Your dad's golf buddies with the Sheriff.”

Carina squeezed her eyes closed. “I know. I only had a split second to decide that. Haylie's going to hate me, but I love her too much to let him…” She swallowed hard and gripped Emily's hand. “What if he kills her?”

Fear squeezed her ribcage. It was a legitimate possibility, one that Emily had borne as a kid, every time her parents fought, a fear she still entertained whenever she thought about her mom continuing to stay married to him. She had to believe that if her father had killed her mom, she would've heard, somehow. Wouldn't she? Despite that she had long ago severed all the ties to her former life and her blood relatives—so thoroughly that no one from her old life should be able to reach her—a part of her still wondered if, somehow, a daughter could sense her mother's murder.

“It's okay,” Emily said. “I get why you didn't. I know I don't like to talk about my past, but that's just because I've moved on. My father doesn't have the power to trigger me anymore.” Emily took Carina's hand. “Calling the cops on Wendell was the right thing to do. Maybe they'll catch him in the act and arrest him. That would be the best outcome.”