The Inheritance (The Donatelli Series) (25 page)

“How do you know?”

“Because he loves her.”

“Does he?” Sophia wasn’t any too sure about that. He’d used Maria’s tender heart to get control of his grandfather’s estate.
For money
.

Shame on him.

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The boys were all half asleep when the plane touched down at Cara’s estate in California. Maria had been quiet on the flight. She leaned on Blade’s shoulder and closed her eyes, but he knew she couldn’t sleep. The shooting had shaken them both, and Blade couldn’t get the picture of Sunny’s face out of his mind. She’d died not six feet away from him and breathed her last breath while he watched. He wouldn’t wish a violent death on anyone, but she’d lived her life on the edge, and he couldn’t picture her growing old and spending her final years in a rocking chair.

The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if they’d waited to kill her until he could watch. Someone could be sending a message. Sunny was expendable. She had no family and no close friends, no one who cared enough to search for the person who’d hired the hit man. Or maybe they thought Blade would track down her killer. If he did, it wouldn’t be on Sunny’s behalf. It would be for Maria and the kids, to make sure they wouldn’t be next.

If Jacobs had wanted him dead, he wouldn’t be here. Or maybe whoever wanted to buy that stock thought they could get a better deal if they bought it directly from him instead of going through Jacobs. Did Hanzer Ships want Banner-Covington badly enough to kill for it? Or was someone else involved?

Two golf carts met the plane at Cara’s estate, and dots of lights illuminated the long path from the air strip to the house. Blade let the dog out of the kennel for a few minutes, so she could sniff around and piddle on the grass. Maria rode one cart back with Jimmy and Robbie. Andy and Daisy rode to the house with Blade.

Artfully placed flood lights illuminated a structure that resembled a luxury Spanish hotel, with a red tile roof and black wrought iron balconies draped in red and purple blossoms. Softer lights lit garden paths and fountains and patios. Another path led down the slope to the beach. The entire estate was walled in, and armed guards patrolled the grounds. So this was where Cara Andrews grew up. The house she shared with Nick on Puget Sound was a great deal more modest, but maybe that was the purpose. He could no more picture himself living in a mansion like this than in his grandfather’s home in New York.

This home reminded him of a California mission. No wonder Maria said they’d be safe here. “This place is amazing,” he said to Carl Hilton, Cara’s head of security, the man driving the cart.

“Yes, it is. The walls are two feet thick, the windows are bullet-proof, and everything is wired. Miss Andrews’ grandfather built this house with security in mind, and he spared no expense.”

Mr. Pettibone, Cara’s butler, the man who ran the house, greeted them at the door. Another man unloaded their bags and Daisy’s kennel and took them inside. Andy held Daisy in his arms. What kind of trouble would the ornery little mutt get into here?

Inside, the floors were marble or gleaming dark wood dotted with oriental rugs and classic furniture. Beautiful paintings adorned the walls. Since the original art from the mansion had been sent to the museum, Blade figured these were copies. Where the Banner home in New York was formal and fancy, this home created an atmosphere of cool, casual, understated elegance.

Maria introduced Tamara, Teresa’s sister, who worked at the estate. Tamara showed everyone to their rooms upstairs, and as Blade hung his suit bag in the closet, Maria walked in from the adjoining room. The boys shared a big room across the hall.

“You brought your suit?”

“As soon as Mort Schuler gets a meeting set up with Colin Jacobs, I’m going to New York. We’re demanding that he turn over the estate. I brought extra copies of our marriage certificate, just in case.”

“Do you have to be there for that? Can’t your attorney do it?”

Blade saw the worry in Maria’s eyes.
I want to be there, Maria.
“I want to see his face when he realizes he can’t sell my grandfather’s stock.”

“What if he’s already sold it?”

“It isn’t his to sell. The estate belongs to me.”

“Where does Hanzer Ships fit in?”

Blade set his laptop on the desk in his room. “They’ve been buying up Banner-Covington stock, and Jacobs offered to sell them Edward Banner’s stock at a deep discount.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s in the report from the private detective. I didn’t ask his methods, but I don’t doubt his report.”

Blade took Maria’s hand. “There’s a reason for Jacobs not telling my grandfather he’d found me three years ago, and there’s a reason he didn’t want me to know of the marriage by forty condition. He counted on me never marrying. Maybe he thought I’d be satisfied with the million and the homes in New York and Florida. I don’t know about his motivation. I just know he’s not getting away with it.”

Maria snuggled in and rubbed Blade’s back. “If it was all about money, why did he find you at all?”

“I think Sunny blackmailed him. He stopped paying her, so she went to my grandfather. Once my grandfather knew I’d been found, Jacobs had to produce me.” He released her hand. “I don’t think this is about money, Maria. Jacobs had free access to the house and the combination of the safe. He could have taken all that jewelry and no one would have known. This is about control of the company.”

Sunny would have taken whatever she wanted and never looked back, but Jacobs wasn’t a common thief. He wouldn’t have looted the house. Edward respected him, and he served on the boards of several big corporations. There was something else going on.

Maybe Jacobs wasn’t the one who’d had Sunny killed, but he was involved. Sunny came to Gig Harbor because of Jacobs. He cut her off, so she came looking for another source of money.

If Jacobs hadn’t hired the hit man, who had?

And why?

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While Blade took the boys and Daisy for a walk on the beach the next morning, Maria called the boys’ school in Gig Harbor. They had less than two months of school left. She had no desire to put them in another school in another state, especially now, when she didn’t know how long they’d have to stay away from Gig Harbor.

Cara’s butler, Mr. Pettibone, had found the boys a tutor, and they would be taught right here at the estate. Mr. Granger was a retired teacher from Seattle who had recently moved with his wife to Santa Cruz, to be near their daughter. Teresa would pick up books and notes from the teachers in Gig Harbor and bring them to the estate next week, when she and Angelo and the rest of the family came down for Cara’s birthday party.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger would move in on May 1st and stay until the boys finished the school year or until they returned home. Maria hoped it wouldn’t be necessary to stay away from home for that long. She didn’t like leaving Molly, and she hated to impose on Nick and Cara. If Blade could get this trouble straightened out, they could go home after Cara’s birthday party, and they wouldn’t need the tutor.

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Blade walked down to the beach with the boys and Daisy. The kids waded in the water and Daisy chased shore birds while Blade looked back at the house. Last night the estate had been impressive, but in the sunlight, it looked magnificent. Red tile roofs topped every creamy stucco building, and there were several. The largest was the house, a three story plus structure surrounded by lush gardens. The smallest was a round pavilion on the lawn.

Until last month, he didn’t know anyone who lived this way. His grandfather’s house wasn’t this big, but only four members of his staff lived on the property. So far, he’d seen eight members of Cara’s staff, plus guards and gardeners, and, according to Tamara, most of them lived here.

He couldn’t picture Nick living here full time and playing lord of the manor. Cara would fit in anywhere, but Nick was the kind of man who had to get his hands dirty. And then there was Nick’s family. Here, Cara had a full staff. In Gig Harbor, she had essential staff members—a cook, a housekeeper, and several security guards—and a loving extended family. Blade knew that Nick and Cara had found a happy middle ground, one they could both live with. And looking at this house, at this luxurious estate, he knew he’d done the right thing in selling the house in New York. He didn’t belong there any more than Nick belonged here.

Daisy chased Andy and ended up in the water. Blade called her and she came on the run. “You’re a dirty little mutt. You’ll need a bath before you can go inside the house.”

“She didn’t mean to,” called Andy.

Blade released the dog. Might as well let her play, since her legs and tummy were already covered with wet sand. The boys could be rinsed off with the hose, but skin was easier to clean than fur.

Jimmy threw a stick for Daisy to fetch, and then he took the stick and ran with it himself. Daisy ran after him, grabbed the leg of his shorts, and tugged them down. The boy tugged his pants up, but not before Blade saw the lash marks on his behind. They were healed, but still bright red. Someone had been beating on Jimmy.

Had someone beaten on these boys on their visit with their grandparents? He couldn’t picture anyone in the Donatelli family beating on a kid, not that hard. Blade wanted to look closer, but he wasn’t their parent, and he couldn’t go examining their naked butts. Someone could accuse him of something worse.

He had to tell Maria, but she was barely holding on since the shooting, and he didn’t want to upset her any more. Whatever happened, it couldn’t be undone, but they could make sure it never happened again.

While the kids played, Blade sat at the table under the umbrella and used his cell phone to call Gerry in Gig Harbor. He quietly described what he’d seen. Gerry swore softly. “Tell Maria we need a doctor’s report and pictures for the judge. She wants to terminate Fred’s parental rights, and this might give us an edge in accomplishing that.”

“I’ll take financial responsibility for Maria and the kids. She doesn’t need his child support. Maria doesn’t need anything from that son-of-a-bitch, and neither do the kids.”

After Daisy wore herself out chasing kids and birds, Blade scooped her up and called the kids. “C’mon, kids, time to go in. You guys need to rinse your legs and feet, and Daisy needs another bath.”

“She didn’t—”

“It’s okay, Andy. Robbie will help me this time.”

On the patio behind the kitchen, Blade rinsed off the boys’ legs and feet. Someone brought a towel outside, and they dried off before they went inside. Blade held onto Daisy’s collar. “Is there a laundry sink or someplace I can wash the dog?”

Jimmy and Andy went inside to find their mother, and Blade ran warm water in the laundry room sink. Someone handed him a bottle of shampoo, and Robbie took it from Blade. “Mom doesn’t trust you with soap.”

“Imagine that,” Blade muttered mostly to himself, and the kid grinned. The entire Donatelli family had probably heard about the episode with the oil and the soap.

Robbie put two drops of shampoo on his hands, rubbed them together, and reached under the dog’s stomach. Blade lifted her back legs out of the water, and in no time they had the under half of the puppy washed and rinsed. They wrapped her in a towel and carried her upstairs to Blade’s room, where he used the hair dryer.

Blade pushed the bathroom door closed. “Robbie, I saw the marks on Jimmy’s behind. Has someone been beating on you boys?”

All the color left Robbie’s face and he looked away.

“Look, kid, if your father did that, I need to know. Did he hit Jimmy?”

“Yeah. Dad was always taking me somewhere and leaving Jimmy and Andy at home with Grandpa and Grandma. One time Jimmy cried, because he wanted to go along, so Dad pulled his belt off and hit him until he screamed. Andy ran to get Grandma, and she made Dad stop.”

“Did he hit Andy, too?”

“Not that time. Dad took us to the doctor to get blood tests, and Andy is afraid of needles, so he screamed and cried. Dad knocked him on the side of the head and told him to shut his f-ing mouth or he’d give him something to cry about.”

“Why did you need blood tests? Were you sick?”

“No, Dad wanted the doctor to do DNA tests. He thinks Jimmy and Andy aren’t his, but they don’t know, so don’t tell them, okay?”

That rotten bastard. “I won’t tell them, but we need to talk to your mother.”

“She’ll cry.”