Framed: A Psychological Thriller (Boston's Crimes of Passion Book 2) (27 page)

Undaunted, Vivian continued, basking in the glory of her past. “After Jack left Boston, the family splintered. Outwardly, they showed a bond of unity, but there was a crack in the foundation. A cascading effect.

“Witt was infuriated, not that Donald was claiming that Jack tried to rape me, but that Jack had left the fold. Jack was no longer under his control…and he blamed Jack for Walter’s problems.

“Witt’s golden boy, Walter, faltered. With Jack not there to handle and correct Walter’s business mistakes, Walter made one terrible business decision after another. Walter lost millions, to the point where Witt threatened to cut him off without a dime if Walter didn’t rein in his recklessness.

“Then, behind Witt’s back, Walter—determined to show he was competent—lost ten million in a fiasco of a real estate deal. Walter got swindled into making an investment where the company didn’t even have the permits or variances needed to begin.

“Walter was desperate to get the money back before Witt discovered what he had done. That was when I introduced him to some acquaintances of mine from Chicago.”

“So Walter does have mob connections,” Riley said, more as a confirmation than a question.
Keep her talking. Keep her talking.
“You reeled him in deep.”

Vivian’s smile broadened. “It wasn’t even our best work. Do you want to know the exact moment that connected Ellis and I together forever?”

Suddenly, Riley wanted her to stop. Something in Vivian’s eyes, her voice told Riley she didn’t want to hear the next words Vivian spoke.

“Your mother…God rest her soul…reached out to your nana. Florence wanted to mend fences. After poor Anne suffered a miscarriage, she wasn’t in good health. Diabetic complications.

“Witt wasn’t stupid. He had begun to suspect that I was the culprit who had driven a wedge between Jack, Donald, and Walter. He used the news of Anne’s poor health to encourage Florence to go to Charleston.

“I wasn’t going to allow that! Not after everything I went through to get to where I was. Ellis and I followed Florence down South. I had to see Anne, tell her the sordid tale of Jack’s attack on me.

“I talked Florence into allowing me to come with her, offering the need to repair the gulf between the brothers over the misunderstanding. Along with Ellis, I drove out to your home, telling your nana that I wanted to reach out first.

“We waited only until after Jack left. Then we went up to the door and talked that stupid housekeeper into letting us in to the house. She was finishing up breakfast for the children…you and that mongrel, Harrison.

“Ellis and I told her we would wait, but we didn’t. As soon as she disappeared, we ran upstairs. I was all prepared to cry and recite my pain…I didn’t have to. Your mother lay on the bed, mumbling incoherently. She didn’t even recognize me.

“At first, we didn’t know what was happening, but then Ellis whispered that she was hypoglycemic. Anne nodded, uttering she needed sugar… My first instinct was to oblige; then Ellis caught my arm.

“His grandmother had been a diabetic and understood what was happening. He nodded toward a small refrigerator they kept in her room. Looking in it, he took out an insulin pen…”

Riley didn’t want to hear it. Her mother.
No…no…no…
Vivian continued. Her words seemed so distant, yet so clear.
Injected the pen. Waited. When we heard footsteps, I ran out the door, screaming Anne needed help. Ellis called 911, but of course, it was too late…no one was ever the wiser.

With her head in her hands, Riley tried to make the words stop. Vivian had been responsible for her mother’s death! She collapsed on the floor.
Oh, good Lord, I’m going to get sick
. She threw up.

Wiping her mouth, she heard a god-awful laugh behind her. Vivian was reveling in the control she wielded.

“I found the feeling exhilarating…freeing taking the life out of someone…but it was nothing like…like your daddy.”

“Shut up,” Riley uttered in a low, firm voice. Climbing up on her knee, she looked directly into the cold, dark eyes of a psychopath. Her voice rose. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

“I’m not finished.” Vivian waved the gun in the air. “I wasn’t finished and won’t be until every one of you Ashcrofts are destroyed!”

“I don’t want to know. You’re a sick…sick woman!”

“I am a powerful woman who will see her son—a Stanford—head of all that was the Ashcrofts.” Vivian crossed over in front of Riley. “And you will hear every last detail of what I have done. I…have done.

“I want you to know it is I who had Walter groveling at my feet. The stupid idiot. Deeper and deeper he fell into an abyss. There was no escape. The fool embezzled from his own father. Tricked him into giving him his power of attorney on the deception that it was for Jack.

“The coward that Walter was allowed me my greatest revenge. Witt was beside himself, finally believing that Jack had crossed him. Witt wrote off his only…truly loyal son. Then, Ellis and I set in motion Jack’s end…framing that bastard, Harrison…”

Anger replaced any fear she felt. Riley stood. Forgetting everything around her, she lunged at the woman.

Vivian sidestepped her. Catching herself with her hands, Riley fell against the couch. Slowly, she turned back to face the epitome of evil.

A sneer greeted Riley. “Yes, you little sniveling bitch, I killed your precious daddy. Oh, no, I didn’t drive him to kill himself. I shot him…it was me.
Me.

“He had figured out Ellis was involved in framing Harrison. I had to silence him. When I stole into your house, I found him at his desk. For a moment, he was startled. When he saw who it was, he dismissed me. Told me to leave.

“As if a flick of his hand would stop me. He didn’t even see it coming. He had gone back to his work and I took the pistol from my purse. I raised it in silence to the side of his head…like I’m doing now to you.”

Riley flinched at the cold steel against her temple. She heard Vivian’s fingernails play against the trigger, knowing the woman was itching to pull it. Riley took a deep breath.

“Die, you bitch, die!”

The gun clicked, but no shot was fired.
Click…click…click.

Riley rounded her hand on the gun and jerked it out of Vivian’s. She slapped Vivian hard across the face. “Now who’s the stupid bitch!”

Suddenly, the lights went on and out stepped an entourage of men and one woman.

Smiling broadly at Riley, Detective John Brophy walked toward Vivian. He pulled out his cuffs. “Mrs. Vivian Elliot Ashcroft—or should I say Julia Stanford—you are under arrest for murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

Stunned, Vivian took a step back. “You can’t…” One of the uniformed officers reached out to her. She hit at him. “Don’t you dare touch me! You don’t know who I am! I will have your badge!”

“We shall see.” Brophy walked behind her. A moment later, he had her in cuffs and gave her off to the waiting officers.

Riley moved back, but couldn’t take her eyes off Vivian. The words the woman had uttered were already becoming dull and fuzzy, but the meaning…the atrocities…sunk deep into Riley’s consciousness.

Then, as quickly as her heart stilled with melancholy, she saw Kincaid walk toward her. He crossed over and she fell into his strong arms. She couldn’t move; she didn’t want to.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

“Never,” he vowed.

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Brophy had anxiously watched the monitors. He hadn’t been this nervous for a long time. So much rode on Riley Ashcroft pulling off the impossible—getting Vivian Ashcroft to confess to murder.

After tracking down Ellis at his safe house, Brophy had been on a mission to find the woman Ellis had been involved with. The fingerprints led to Vivian Elliot, but he had to have a motive, which he was certain was connected to Russell Stanford. Putting together the information that Ellis had used Russell Stanford’s identity, he investigated the man.

He was able to match up the Social Security number used to buy the house with the Russell Stanford who had been expelled from Washington Ridge. The one who had died at nineteen in a jail fight.

In newspaper reports, Stanford was survived by his fifteen-year-old sister—Julia Stanford.

Further digging revealed a young girl shuffled from one foster home to another until she finished high school. Then she disappeared…vanished from the face of the earth. Only to reemerge again, this time as Vivian Elliot.

Cooperation with the FBI helped confirm Brophy’s suspicion. Vivian had taken over an identity of a young girl who was killed in a car wreck along with her family. In all probability, it was where she made her mob connection.

At first, he was certain Vivian’s quest began as revenge, but greed and power ignited in her. Arrogance convinced her that she would never be caught.

“Wait until my attorneys get hold of you!” Vivian screamed at Brophy. “You’ll be stripped of your badge!”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Donald Ashcroft emerged from behind a barrage of officers and confronted his wife. Looking at Brophy, he smiled bitterly. “I can have my minute?”

Brophy motioned to the officers to wait, and then said to Ashcroft, “Make it brief.”

Donald nodded to Brophy. He walked over to his wife. “We’re done, Vivian. Done. From this moment, you are cut off…from everything. I’m going to make certain you suffer and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it, you conniving bitch!

“You unleashed your wrath on us. Now, you will feel the full reach of ours…and it will hurt.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, Donald turned and walked out.

Giving him this time had been part of the agreement for Donald’s cooperation in the sting. Surprisingly, Riley was the one to convince her uncle it was in the best interest of the family to help.

At first hesitant, Ashcroft had asked for a little time before making his decision…Brophy suspected the time it took for the DNA results to come back on Noah.

When Donald signed off on the operation, the set-up began to take shape. So many loose ends had to be maneuvered around to fit together for this to work.

Warrants had to be obtained. Darren Kennedy had been assigned to this undertaking. Every detail made to ensure that everything was done legally.

A policewoman posed as a new hire in the Ashcroft staff and enabled access to everything needed to make the scheme work. Household cameras were linked to IT boys down at Central. Vivian was under twenty-four-hour surveillance.

Brophy himself had searched Vivian’s car and found the weapon. That’s when Kincaid took over. He had connection to a movie set. Vivian’s gun had been replaced with the function gun, which basically was a realistic toy gun.

To ensure the safety of Riley, her gun had been replaced with a blank gun without blanks. Kincaid arranged the cameras and monitors—which were much higher quality than what Brophy had access to at the police department.

The stage was set for the deception. This time, the tables had been turned.

Vivian was caught in a web she would never be able to untangle herself from. Riley had made certain of that.

As he watched the scene unfold, he knew with a certainty he rarely felt that Vivian Ashcroft would spend the rest of her life behind bars. A fate worse than death to the woman.

“I guess it’s like the old German proverb says—revenge converts a little right into a great wrong.”

Turning around to Cruz, Brophy asked, “Where the hell did you come up with that?”

“Internet. Just looked it up.” She laughed. “Makes me sound intelligent, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, right.”

She shrugged slightly. “Okay. Okay. Point taken. So how about after you get your paperwork done, you come out with us for drinks?”

“That may take awhile. Why don’t you let me know where you guys end up and I will meet you.”

“It’s all good.” Cruz moved closer. “But if you think I’m going to let you pass up the opportunity to celebrate, you’re mistaken. Call me…any time. My mom’s got the boys tonight. The least you can do is come over for a drink.”

“The least…” Brophy let the word hang. With a smile and a wink, he said, “I’ll be there.”

Brophy followed the handcuffed suspect out of the house. Darren stood in the doorway.

Tilting his head back to Cruz, Darren asked, “Things looking up for you?”

“Yeah,” Brophy said. “I think they are.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

The sun setting over the skyline shadowed the Back Bay townhouse on a beautiful Friday evening in late October. Fall in New England was an anticipated time: the crisp air, the colored trees, the pumpkins on sale at roadside stands.

A great setting for the story of a lifetime.

Inside, lights and cameras lit up the Ashcroft living room. In the foyer, an audience watched, mesmerized by the exchange.

“Final question,” Kincaid asked, lightening the mood. “Where do you go from here?”

A slight smile emerged on the man’s face. “I don’t know. I have some plans, but I have been advised to take things slowly. Adjusting will take time. Right now, I’m taking it one day at a time and enjoying my family.”

“Thank you, Harrison Ashcroft, for giving us your time. We wish you the best.”

Kincaid wrapped up the interview. From the look on Mark’s face, he had nailed it.

The interview would air nationally tomorrow night. He had finally landed a segment on 48 Hours. It had come with a job opportunity—in New York.

He rose and shook hands with Harrison. A firm handshake.

The two men stood in the Ashcroft townhouse. Donald Ashcroft had opened it up for the occasion.

The last few months had seen many changes in the Ashcroft family. The scandal had humbled the once proud family, no one more than the youngest son of Florence and Witt Ashcroft.

All his life, he had been in the shadows of his father and brothers, dominated by a crazed wife. He could have become reclusive. He hadn’t.

Surprisingly, it had been Donald who had reached out to the governor of South Carolina. He requested an immediate pardon for the man who had served thirteen years for a crime his wife and lover had committed.

Donald had been alongside Riley and Miss Tillie to greet Harrison as the freed man left Lieber Prison less than two weeks after Vivian’s confession. Offering his support, he helped Harrison bring his mother north.

Quite naturally, Harrison was skeptical. But from what Kincaid had observed, it seemed as if Donald needed Harrison more than Harrison needed him.

The youngest Ashcroft brother had immediately sought a divorce from the woman he had known as Vivian. He had gotten it, uncontested. Technically, the marriage had been a fraud from the beginning.

Kincaid supposed that Donald could have sought an annulment, but it would have called into question Noah’s parentage. It was not a step Donald made.

Noah broke all contact with his mother and stood firmly beside Donald. Something in Kincaid told him, though, that Noah would suffer in the end for his mother’s deeds. Being a true Ashcroft, Donald would never let Noah head WSA.

Kincaid had heard the kid had changed his major from business to pre-med.

Walter had taken a plea deal and had begun serving his ten-year sentence in Alderson, a minimum security prison, in West Virginia. A far cry from the prison Harrison had served his time, but Walter had become a shell of a man he once had been.

Cora had taken Freddy out to Colorado to recover. He had a long road ahead of him, but his odds of having a normal life were improving. Kincaid felt a twinge of sympathy for the guy.

Reconstructing the events, it now seemed likely that Ellis and Vivian had been the ones to give Freddy the overdose that almost killed him, when he had overheard them talking about killing Riley.

Nothing that could be proved, only bits and pieces of Freddy remembering. But now Freddy had a fresh start.

As had Harrison, who had taken the last name Ashcroft after his release. “Dad gave me the adoption papers for my eighteenth birthday. I never officially used it. It was part of the plea deal agreement. Now, I wear it proudly.

“But let me make it perfectly clear: I wear the name of Jack Ashcroft’s son.”

The meaning made it clear—it was the man who raised him, not the one who sired him, who was his father.

Kincaid studied Harrison for a moment. He had kept his head shaved, but for the interview he wore a Brunello Cucinelli sports coat and sweater. Clean-shaven and manicured, he looked every inch an Ashcroft.

The guy had a hard road in front of him, but something told him that Harrison would make it.

Kincaid glanced around the room. Riley stood over by Noah, who must have told a joke because she laughed. Her eyes glistened; her face beamed. She looked incredibly lovely in that moment.

Since Harrison had been released, she had lost her edge. Though he doubted she would ever admit she had softened.

She caught him staring at her and gestured for him to join them. He moved over to her side, easing his arm about her waist.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked. “We have a couple of errands to run before dinner.”

Looking down at her watch, she nodded. “Just give me a minute to get my jacket.”

“I’ll go get the car. I’ll meet you out front.”

By the time he pulled up to the entrance of the townhouse, she was waiting. They drove in silence until they hit the rotary in front of Holy Name Church in West Roxbury. She reached over and turned the radio off.

“I thought the interview went wonderful,” she said.

“Thank you. Harrison was extremely comfortable in front of the camera. He came across well.”

“He was nervous, but you would never have known it.”

“I think he’s going to be okay,” Kincaid agreed.

She gave a simple nod. Another silence ensued, and then she began, “Clayton is negotiating with my uncles’ attorneys about the settlement of my grandfather’s will. It will be awhile. Dennis is digging into the estate. Clayton said that between Walter losing money and Vivian hiding money, a great deal was lost.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Are you okay with it?”

“I don’t think I can complain. Donald has authorized for twenty million to be transferred to me…” She hesitated. “I’m splitting whatever I get with Harrison.”

“I think that’s very generous of you.” Glancing over at her, he added, “Not many people would do that.”

“He is my brother. Coming out of prison, he doesn’t have anything. He is considering suing for wrongful conviction, but hasn’t made his mind whether to or not, yet. Clayton said that Dad included him in his will, but there wasn’t anything left after Walter and…”

“I know.” He didn’t want to talk about her family tonight. No, not tonight.

Since the night Vivian confessed, their relationship had been in limbo. She wanted to take a step back to stand on her own two feet. At the time, he understood.

So much had happened between them. She had been confused and dazed with the news of her parents’ death. Her whole world had been turn upside down.

Riley had always believed her father had been murdered. But to have believed that her mother had died of natural causes all her life, only to have discovered that Vivian and Ellis had had a hand in her demise, had been devastating to her.

She needed time to contemplate what she wanted in life. To deal with the reality of what her life had become.

That time had passed. Three months, seven days to be exact.

He had been there for her as a friend and confidant. Forcing himself to show restraint, he hadn’t touched her other than a few small kisses that had been more compassionate than passionate. He hadn’t wanted to press her.

Moreover, they both had been busy. His career had demanded his attention. He had made a name for himself. His mother told him that his grandfather would have been proud. The sentiment meant more than any award or accolades he received.

For most of the three months, Riley had been in Charleston, taking care of Miss Tillie and Harrison. Having taken a leave from her school, she concentrated on picking up the pieces of a family torn apart.

Tonight marked an end of sorts. His story was over. The interview would air and he would move on to the next one. But…what he feared was that she would move on as well…without him.

She sighed. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Driving along familiar streets, Riley frowned when he turned down her old street. The frown deepened when he pulled into the driveway.

From the look on her face, she hadn’t expected ever to see the house again.

“Why are you taking me here?” she asked, doing little to hide her irritation. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be.
For once,
trust me.”

Not waiting for Kincaid to pull to a full stop, she opened her door. He watched her walk up the sidewalk to the front door. She glanced back over her shoulder as he made his way behind her.

“Go ahead. The door’s open.”

“What’s going on here, Josh? We can’t just walk into somebody’s house…”

“We’re not. I’m the one who bought it,” he said bluntly. Rounding her, he turned the handle. Pushing the door open, he stood back. “After you.”

Looking at him oddly, she stepped inside. Abruptly, she turned. “What’s going on?”

“Dinner.” He took her hand in his and led her to the kitchen. In the nook, two place settings were out on the table with candles and a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket. “I have everything prepared. It won’t take long to bake the lasagna. I made it last night.”

Her hand covered his. He whirled her around into his arms.

“I don’t understand…you bought this house. Why…?” She choked on her words. Tears welled in her eyes when he dropped to one knee. “Oh, Josh, what are you doing?”

“Probably making a big fool out of myself, but you see, I know this guy who has done some foolish things in the past, but you weren’t one of them. Matter of fact, you have been the best thing that has ever happened to him and he is totally…madly in love with you.

“Riley Ashcroft, I love you. Marry me.”

Her eyes met his and time stilled. Rising, he kissed her. “Marry me.”

She stared up at him with her large, expressive eyes. “Josh, I don’t…don’t know.”

“I do,” he said in a low, firm voice. “I know how strongly I feel about you. I’m not going to let anything come between us. I will do whatever I have to…to make up to you for the story I ran.”

“Ssh,” she whispered, placing her finger over his lips. “It’s not you who needs to ask forgiveness. You did your job. I didn’t expect anything less. It’s what made me feel so helpless. I had been working so hard to get Harrison out of prison.

“Finally…finally, things were happening…I was upset because I feared that I had failed and I just couldn’t accept that outcome.”

He pushed her hair back from her face. “My stubborn, brave darling, I had to run the story. It was the hardest decision in my life…but I didn’t have a choice. Know, though, I did everything…everything in my power to help bring around Harrison’s release.”

“I know. You did.” She looked directly into his eyes. “And…you bought this house for me?”

“For us. When I saw it was for sale, I wasn’t going to let it go. I had been looking for a house. My grandfather left me enough to buy it outright so Walter wouldn’t block the sale. I think it’s time I settled down.”

“But I thought…I heard you had been offered a job in New York.”

He nodded. “I was. I turned it down. I have everything I’ve ever wanted here in Boston. My dad isn’t in the best health. My mother needs help with my younger brother and sister. Most importantly, you’re here…you are here?”

“I believe I will be.” She leaned up and kissed him. “I have been so afraid of loving you too much. For years, I never allowed anyone to get close to me until you. You showed me what I have been missing in my life and it scared me.

“I’m not scared anymore… Ask me again.”

“With pleasure.” He smiled. “Riley Ashcroft, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

He silenced her with a kiss.

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