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Red Carpet Christmas Page 11
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“You’re saying that it was Al? That Teresa wasn’t delusional?”
“Apparently not. I thought we could walk over there and pay Ms. Ralston a visit.”
Before Simone could answer, footsteps quickly thundered down a nearby staircase. Simone started and whipped around. Gideon followed her lead and zeroed in on the teenager who was rushing to the front door.
“I’m late, Mom. Gotta go. Charlie’s waiting for me.”
“Be home before eleven.”
Drew paused and stared at Gideon for a moment; his frown was much like his mother’s, but his narrowing eyes weren’t. Simone’s were green; the boy’s were blue, nearly electric. He pushed a lock of blue-black hair from a neatly chiseled face.
Then Drew was gone.
And, mind racing, Gideon was left staring after him.
“Where were we?” Simone asked, sounding a bit breathless.
Panicky?
When he faced her, she tried to go all neutral on him again, but she couldn’t.
Gideon felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Looking at Drew was like looking in the mirror a couple of decades ago.
Why hadn’t she told him?
Simone had gone stiff and seemed to have trouble breathing. Why shouldn’t she after what she’d done? It all became clear to him now—why she’d married another man so fast. Now he knew what…Drew.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you were pregnant with my child?” he nearly shouted.
Simone shrugged and moved away from him, saying, “Drew is David’s son.”
He caught her shoulder and spun her around. “That’s a lie.”
“David and Drew couldn’t have been closer!”
“Only because you let him believe the kid was his.”
She licked her lips and he could see her swallow hard. It seemed she wanted to lie to him again, but couldn’t make herself do it.
Finally, she said, “David knew.”
“Well that’s great. Did everyone know but me?”
“I was going to tell you…I tried to tell you that last night…”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I was scared. I’d just found out for sure myself and didn’t know what to say. And then later…how could I tell you after what happened?”
“I don’t know. How about, ‘Joey, I’m sorry about your father. I know this is a bad time to tell you this, but I’m pregnant.’”
“You betrayed me!”
“Oh, that’s right. You thought I was lying about your father killing mine. So you lied to me, kept my son from me. Payback, Simone?” he asked, stepping closer. The heat of her anger nearly seared him, but he was furious with her, too. “Is that what this was? I took your father from you, so you took my son in return?”
It all made sense now, those emotions he’d sworn she had for him—the push-pull that made her want him and yet reject him. She might have been able to punish him, but she hadn’t been able to forget what they’d had. Seventeen years ago, even though she’d loved him, she’d refused to see him lest he figure out she was carrying his kid. Maybe she loved him still. He simply didn’t understand how she’d been able to do it.
Or had it been…
“Michael,” he murmured, the realization hitting him. “Was it his idea for you to stay away from me?”
“Michael was only trying to protect me,” Simone said stiffly. She wrapped her arms around her middle as if she were trying to protect herself. “He kept me safe. Away from the reporters—”
“And away from me.” A no-brainer. “Did you ever think of telling me?”
“What good would it have done? You had disappeared. Even if I had decided to tell you, how would I have found you?”
He kept his voice even when he said, “So in the end, Michael won. He got you away from me the way he wanted all along.”
“It wasn’t like that!”
She’d always been blind to her father’s and brother’s faults. And to their manipulation.
“Is that why Michael funded Cecchi and Burke? Al Cecchi wanted to start off on his own, and your brother saw an opportunity to keep you away from me forever. Did he use the law firm to buy you your husband?”
Her hand came out of nowhere. One second it was at her side, the next it connected with his face. Anger made her stronger than he had imagined. The slap jerked his head to the side and made him take a step away from her.
They glared at each other; their eyes communicated to one another.
But Gideon wanted more.
He wanted answers.
Waiting until he trusted himself to speak calmly, he asked, “Well?”
For a moment, he thought she might spit in his face and tell him to leave. He watched a surge of emotions play over her face. And then her eyes turned shiny with tears.
“David was always interested in me,” she said. “But I never went out with him because I had you. After Papa was arrested, he was there. And yes, Michael encouraged me to see him. And when David proposed, Michael encouraged me to marry him, because he knew I wanted to keep my baby and I was too young to be a single parent. I didn’t want my child raised as a DeNali. So I agreed to marry David if he would leave the family business, which he gladly did for me.”
David must have really loved Simone to start over.
“So Drew believes David was his father?”
“David was his father in every way that counted.”
“What about me? Don’t I count for anything?”
Simone was shaking her head at him, looking more scared than he’d ever seen her. No matter that he tried to harden himself against her, Gideon felt his chest tighten and gut knot in response.
“You can’t tell him,” Simone said softly. It was more of a plea than a demand. “Drew adored David. He was devastated when David died. You would take away the only father he’s ever known. You would destroy him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You don’t know that you wouldn’t.”
“Drew needs a father.” As he’d needed the father who’d been denied him.
“If you tell him…are you willing to chance destroying a young man’s life?”
“You mean the way mine was?”
“That’s on you.”
So they were back to square one.
“I only told the truth, Simone. Loving you and telling the truth were my only crimes.”
Her eyes were teary and she pressed her lips together, no doubt to keep herself from crying. Gideon couldn’t believe she wanted to cut him out of his son’s life now that he knew. David was dead; nothing would bring the man back.
But what if she was correct?
The thought of destroying another young life… Drew was even younger than he had been…Gideon couldn’t shoulder that responsibility.
He nodded curtly. “If he finds out, it won’t be from me.”
He was used to being alone, after all. Any illusion that he might have had about him and Simone had come apart in shreds.
Instead, he had another reason to mourn.
Chapter Ten
As they walked in silence to Josie Ralston’s Hampden Court highrise, Simone got herself back under control.
It wasn’t like her to lose it. She’d hidden from the past for so long she’d fooled herself into believing it held no power over her anymore. Knowing that Gideon could so easily take her back to a place that meant only pain made her doubt her decision to let him help her.
And what he could do to Drew…
Simone’s pulse sped up when he put a hand in the middle of her back as they turned the corner onto Hampden. Then his hand dropped away, leaving her with a hollow feeling.
Would it always be this way? she wondered, spotting the highrise. Many of the units had been bought as investment properties—they gave a far better return than a bank and were safer than the stock market—and had been rented out, including the apartment Al had found for his mistress.
As they approached the building, Simon
e finally broke the silence. “So, do you think she’ll just let us up?”
“I wouldn’t count on it, but not to worry—I made other arrangements.”
“Such as?”
“The security guard is an off-duty cop, a friend of Gabe’s. He’ll let us into the foyer. We can just show up at the Ralston woman’s door and knock.”
Which could get the security guard into trouble if Josie complained to the management, Simone worried, before reminding herself of the trouble she would be in if they didn’t get some answers.
“She still won’t have to let us in.”
“Hey, I did my part. The rest is up to you. We’re both strangers, but no doubt she’ll respond better to a woman than a man,” Gideon said. “Besides, I’m sure you can be persuasive if you try.”
His words mocked her. Was he thinking about the way she’d convinced him not to tell Drew who he was? For a moment, guilt ate at Simone. No matter that she’d originally meant to tell him about her pregnancy, in the end, she’d hidden it from him—hidden his son from him.
Maybe she had given in too readily to Michael’s influence in the matter. But if she’d been truthful, what then? She never would have agreed to marry the man who’d put her father in prison for something he didn’t do. She couldn’t fathom that he would have wanted to marry her. Caught between feuding families, their child would have been the one to suffer.
She’d done the only thing she could have, Simone assured herself, as the doorman let them in and they stopped before the security desk. As Gideon spoke to the guard, she thought about how she could get the Ralston woman to open her door to them. She needed a convincing argument.
Even before they entered the elevator, she had an idea. Gideon pressed the button to the top floor, and as they stepped out, Simone noted there were only two doors—one on either side of the hallway—and realized Al had provided his mistress with a penthouse apartment.
Forcing a smile to her stiff lips, she noted the door had a doorbell and intercom. She stepped in front of the peephole as she rang.
A moment later, a husky voice via the intercom asked, “Who is it?”
“I represent Cecchi and Burke Law Offices, Ms. Ralston, and I need to speak to you about your lease.”
The door opened immediately. “If you’re here to tell me I gotta leave—” Josie’s eyes widened when she realized two people stood outside her door. “Hey, what is this?”
Surprised by the familiar purple-streaked dark hair and equally familiar stomach exposed by low-rider jeans and a jewel-studded crop top, Simone went wide-eyed, as well. She’d seen this woman at Club Undercover…with her brother. This woman was Michael’s alibi.
“I think you’d better let us in, Ms. Ralston,” Gideon said.
Simone blinked and tore her gaze away from the stunning navel ring that she would swear was a real ruby. One Al bought for her? Josie clenched her jaw and Simone thought she was going to refuse to talk to them.
But Al’s mistress backed away from the door on her spindly ankle-strap sandals and said, “All right, come in, but make it quick. I’m in a hurry. I have a…an appointment to keep.”
At this hour? Did she mean a date? Simone wondered. And with Al not even in the grave. Then it occurred to her that Michael could be that “appointment.”
Simone didn’t like this link between her brother and Al’s mistress.
Nor did she like the fact that Al Cecchi had spent so much money—David’s share of the business—on this woman.
The penthouse apartment had the touch of a professional designer. Not that purple furniture and hot pink trimmings were her cup of tea. But she recognized the complex floor-to-ceiling window treatments from Metropolitan Home magazine. Added to designer furniture were several sculptures—also not to her taste—that had probably cost a fortune.
All this could have paid for Drew’s tuition until he graduated from high school.
So Simone couldn’t help but be resentful as the other woman stood there, arms crossed over her exposed stomach, saying, “You know, this is really inconvenient, your just showing up here like this.”
“Should I have waited to speak to you at the wake?” Simone asked.
“Wake?”
“Al’s. Tomorrow night. You are planning on being there, aren’t you.”
Josie made a face and shrugged her shoulders. “Uh, right. The old bat he was married to would really appreciate my showing up for her party.”
Simone wanted to smack her, but smiled instead.
“So then, here we are,” Gideon said.
Josie frowned at him. “You look familiar.”
“Club Undercover—I own it.”
A flicker of something Simone couldn’t interpret slid through the woman’s eyes before she shuttered her response and brushed by him. She settled in an armchair and indicated the purple couch. “So, sit.”
Making herself as comfortable as she could considering the circumstances, Simone introduced herself and added, “My late husband was Al’s partner. So now I’m one of the owners of the firm and therefore have control over the lease to this place and everything in it.”
Simone wasn’t certain that was correct—if Al had given his mistress the furniture, it might very well be hers legally, even if he had stolen the money from David’s share of the business to pay for his largesse—but she wanted to put the other woman on rocky footing.
“So you’re what? Here to evict me? I know my rights. You have to give me proper notice. Albert told me so.”
“Albert?”
She waved her hand. “He insisted his women always called him by his full name.”
His women…how many had there been? Simone wondered.
“We’re here for information,” Gideon said smoothly. “You cooperate with us and there won’t be a problem.”
“Cooperate how?”
“We’re looking for a murderer.”
“Hey, look, I had nothing to do with what happened to Albert.”
“But you were at the club that night. Why?”
As Gideon grilled Josie, Simone could see the wheels in the other woman’s mind spinning. She wasn’t answering and no doubt trying to find a way out of telling them anything.
“You want to help find Al’s murderer,” Simone prompted. “Don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. But what makes you think I know anything?”
“You were his mistress. Men tend to talk in bed.”
“If you think that’s all we were doing…” Josie rolled her eyes.
Gideon took over. “But you did talk, right?”
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“About?”
“Stuff. I don’t know.”
“Problems with a client? With a friend?”
“You mean like a suspect?”
“Exactly, like a suspect.”
Josie was playing dumb, and Simone wondered why. A dumb woman didn’t live like this. What did Josie know that she wasn’t saying? Perhaps a different tactic was called for.
“Al sure kept you well,” she said.
“Yeah, until he ran out of bucks.”
Gideon jumped on that. “So his death freed you to look for someone with ready cash.”
“Hey, wait a minute! Don’t be trying to pin nothing on me!”
“So he ran out of money…when?” Simone asked.
“He got tighter and tighter the last month or so. Said his ship was gonna come in, only it never did,” Josie said, her tone resentful.
“What kind of ship?” Simone asked.
“How would I know?”
“We already established that you talked…among other things.”
“Al had some kind of deal he was trying to make, but what does it matter what kind if he was just gonna gamble the profits away?”
“He was a serious gambler, then,” Gideon said.
“He said it wasn’t a problem, that he was just trying to make up for some money he needed to pay back, but he didn’t say who he
owed. If you ask me, gambling was Albert’s drug of choice and had been for a long time. He was just good at hiding it at first.”
Simone locked gazes with Gideon and knew he was thinking the same thing she was. Gambling losses…the reason for all those withdrawals…the reason she was broke.
They tried again to get something from Josie on anyone who had a grudge against Al, but her answer held nothing new, only a ring of familiarity. “Hey, he was a lawyer. Coulda been anyone.”
Gideon handed her his card. “If you think of anything more specific—threats, warnings, weird phone calls—let me know immediately.”
Josie took a sultry pose. “How about I just call you?”
Gideon’s eyebrow flicked up in what Simone interpreted as undue interest.
“I’ll be in touch about the apartment,” Simone told Josie. “I suggest you don’t do a disappearing act with any of the inventory.”
Hostile replaced sultry. “Don’t worry. I’m not going nowhere.”
Simone couldn’t get out of the place fast enough. And when they hit the street, she accelerated the quick pace despite the fact that it was snowing again and the footing was slippery. Gideon, of course, kept up with her easily.
“In a hurry to get somewhere?” he asked.
“Trying to outrun the truth, that a stranger has David’s assets and there’s probably nothing I can do about it.”
Or nothing she wanted to do about it. Josie Ralston hadn’t stolen money that should be supporting her and her son; Al had done that.
“So what do you think Josie meant about Cecchi’s ship coming in?” Gideon asked.
“I don’t know. An important client with a big retainer, I suppose.”
A twitch at the back of her neck made her turn and look over her shoulder through the thickening snow as a large silhouette blended into a doorway. Just someone coming home, she told herself, shaking away the weird feeling.
“I’m assuming the money she said Cecchi was trying to pay back was what he stole from the company,” Gideon said. “But a big retainer wouldn’t replenish the coffers—it would simply mean additional revenue for the firm. So he must have meant something else, some ‘ship’ outside of a new client or anything else the firm could bring in.”