Park Avenue (Book Six in the Fifth Avenue Series) (26 page)

She dropped her bag onto
the kitchen island, checked his office, the living room and the rooms on the
second floor, but he wasn’t there.
 
Earlier, he had sent a text asking if she wanted to have dinner at their
apartment.
 
He’d cook and maybe
they’d watch a movie afterward, or just talk about their days.
 

She knew he went to see
his father this morning, but that visit would have been over by now.
 
She was curious to know how it had gone
since it had been so long since he’d seen him, and also because she knew that
his father hated her.
 

She went into the living
room to wait for Mario, but then remembered what Sean Scott asked of her earlier—she
needed a new phone so he could have access to her old one.

There was a Best Buy at
Eighty-Sixth and Lex.
 
She could get
a new phone there and have them transfer her contacts onto it.
 
She checked her watch, saw that it was
just past seven and recalled that that particular store was open late.
 

She went back to the
kitchen to call Mario, reached into her bag for her cell, clicked it on, and
saw more messages from Deadman1.
 
She looked at them for a moment and felt a chill.
 
She wanted to open them, but decided it
was best if she didn’t.
 

Who was this person?
 
Pepper?
 
Leana wouldn’t put it past her, but in
the wake of Florence Holt and Charles Stout’s murders, she had to agree with
Anastassios.
 
Your father has a
lot of enemies, Leana.
 
Sean,
his team and I talked before coming here.
 
We all agree.
 
Someone wants
to finish what Louis Ryan started.
 
First it was Celina.
 
Ryan
got her.
 
Now, it’s different.
 
Now, it’s you.
 
Probably even your father.

She was about to call
Mario and find out where he was when the phone rang in her hand, startling
her.
 
She looked down at the screen
and what surprised her more was the name of the person calling.
 

George Redman.

*
 
*
 
*

“What do you want?”

“To offer you an
opportunity.”

“You mean, another
opportunity to humiliate me?
 
That’s
not going to happen.”
 

“Leana, lose the chip.”

“Dad, go fuck yourself.”

She hung up the phone and
waited.
 
Within seconds, it rang
again and his name flashed on the screen.
 
Obviously, he hadn’t taken her advice.
 
“That was quick,” she said.
 
“I hope it was satisfying.”

He ignored her.
 
“It’s a good opportunity, Leana.
 
You’ve always said you wanted to work
with me.
 
You’ve always claimed that
I cheated you of that.”

“You did.”

“You’re right.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have an answer.”

“Try to be
introspective.”

“It wasn’t personal.”

“It certainly felt like
it.”

“Celina could juggle
multiple projects and she always pulled them off.
 
I didn’t think I needed you at Redman
International, so I just let you live your life and let you find yourself.”

“Well, that didn’t go so
well, did it?” she said.
 
“When I
was fifteen, you shipped me off to private school in Switzerland.
 
That was a happy time in my life.
 
I became an addict there.”

“And I suppose you blame
me?”

“Mom didn’t want me to
go.
 
She wanted me here, but you
bullied forward and sent me away because you didn’t like my attitude around the
house.
 
Since we’ve never talked
about it, I’ll tell you what I found when I landed in Switzerland—loneliness,
anxiety and the need to escape.
 
I
knew no one.
 
I didn’t fit in.
 
Drugs helped for a while, until I went
overboard with them.
 
It was a great
experience, Dad.
 
I take full
responsibility for what I did to myself.
 
I was stupid to turn to drugs.
 
But there was a catalyst underscoring all of it, and that catalyst was
you.”
 

“Are we going to get
beyond this?”

“After what happened
today?
 
You and Pepper setting me
up?
 
Are you joking?
 
No.
 
Sorry.
 
It doesn’t look good
for us.
 
And by the way?
 
Zack Anderson?
 
He now works for me.”

“So I’ve heard.
 
There are other general managers out
there, Leana.
 
Enjoy Zack.”

“I will.”

“Would you do me a favor
and listen to me for a moment?”

“What’s the point?”

“The point is that I need
your help.”

“Since when?
 
What kind of help could I possibly offer
you?”

“I think you’d be a good
fit for one of my projects.”

“Which one?”

“The high-rise I’m
building on Columbus Circle.”

“The one you’re touting
as the city’s tallest residential building?”
 

“That’s right.
 
And it’s true.
 
It is.”

“What about it?”

“If Celina were alive,
she’d be overseeing its progress.”

“But Pepper is alive and
thriving.
 
So, why aren’t you using
her?”

“I am using her, but you
can imagine the scope of a project that size.
 
She’s doing a fine job, but Phil Jacobs
walked off the job today and she can’t do this alone.”

“He walked because of
Pepper, didn’t he?”

George hesitated.
 
“There were some personality conflicts,
yes.”

“I’ll bet.
 
And yet you say that Pepper is doing a
fine job?”

“She has some growing up
to do.”

“She needs a complete
attitude adjustment.”

He didn’t respond.
 

“I’m assuming you want me
to step in and work with Pepper on this?”

“I do.”

“She’d be in charge?”

“No.
 
The job’s too large.
 
You’d be equals.”

“We’ll never be equals.”

“At the job, Leana.”

“Does Pepper know about
this?”

“Pepper would have my
head if she knew I was calling you.”

“And why is that?
 
I thought
you
were in charge of
Redman International, not Pepper Redman.
 
Doesn’t she take direction from you?”
 

“Of course she does.”

“So, what’s the
issue?
 
And why are you asking me to
be part of this?
 
You’ve always said
I have no head for business.
 
Why
the sudden change of heart?”

“Because the word’s
out.
 
Under your leadership, it’s
obvious The Park is going to be a success.
 
I underestimated you.
 
I want
to see what you can do.
 
I want to
see if you can manage working with someone as difficult as Pepper.
 
Celina could have handled her with ease
because, whether you want to admit it or not, Pepper is talented.
 
Her problem is that’s she’s young and
arrogant.
 
Celina would have shut her
down and trained her to be a better, more effective manager.
 
I’m wondering if you have those
skills.
 
If you do, maybe we’ll work
on other projects together.”

“So, this is a test?”

“It is.”

“You know Pepper and I
can’t stand each other.”

“I can’t stand many of
the people I work with, but I manage them and we get the job done.
 
It will speak volumes to me if you can
manage her because I know how difficult she is.
 
I know she comes off poorly and that
she’s a challenge.
 
The question is
whether you’ll take the challenge and rein her in.”

“What’s the timeframe?”

“The project is nearly
finished.
 
One month.”

“So, I need to open my
hotel and your high-rise around the same time?”

“Is that a problem?”

What he didn’t say is
that it wouldn’t be a problem for Celina.

“It isn’t.
 
I’ll get back to you,” Leana said.

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning.
 
After I talk to Mario.”

But
when Leana hung up the phone, she already knew what she was going to do.
 
She’d take the job.
 
She’d prove her father wrong.
 
And in the process, she’d take on Pepper
Redman, put her in her place and show her how much her beloved degree at
Wharton really was worth.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO

Not long after Leana hung
up with her father, Mario came through the door with two bags of groceries in
his arms.
 
Leana went over to him,
took one of the bags and put it alongside his on the kitchen island.

“I was worried about
you,” she said.

He gave her a kiss on the
forehead.
 
“It’s been a long
day.”
 
He looked tired.

She could only imagine
how it went with his father, who in many ways was more difficult than her own.

“We have a lot to talk
about,” she said.

“That we do.”

“How did it go with your
father?”

“Mixed.”

“Before we share war
stories, I have a random request.
 
We need to run to Best Buy before they close.”

“That
is
a random
request.
 
Can it wait until
tomorrow?
 
I was going to cook for
us, and then talk about the day.”

There was only one way to
tell him—straight.
 
She didn’t
want him to see her upset.
 
“It
can’t wait.
 
Don’t freak out, OK?
 
Today, I started receiving threats on my
cell.
 
They came from someone named
Deadman1.”

“Deadman1?”

“I know—clever,
isn’t it?
 
Apparently, someone wants
me dead.
 
I’m not going to tell you
how they want to do it, because it doesn’t bear repeating.”

“Leana—”

“For the most part, the
situation is under control.
 
Sean
Scott, who is the new head of security at The Park thanks to Anastassios,
advised me to get a new phone with a new number as soon as possible—as in
by the end of today.
 
Then he wants
my old phone so he can trace the texts through his contact at the FBI.
 
He’s not sure if they’ll have success,
but he’s going to try.”

“I know about the texts,”
Mario said.
 

She couldn’t keep the
surprise from her voice.
 
“How?
 
They just started happening today.”

“Don’t be angry with me.”

“That means I’m going to
be angry with you.”

“Try not to be.
 
At least hear me out.
 
Before you went to bed last night, I
checked your phone to see who called you about the tarp.
 
I wanted to see if there was a number
associated with the call, but there wasn’t.
 
It was a private number.
 
Before I turned off the phone, I noticed
dozens of texts left by someone named Deadman.
 
I banned the person and deleted the
messages.
 
Now you’re telling me
it’s Deadman1.
 
To get in front of
this and keep you safe, I had you followed today while I put other things into
motion to find out who this person is.”

She felt a flash of
anger.
 
“Why didn’t you tell me this
before you left?”

“Because I knew it would
worry you and I also knew that with my man at your back, you’d be safe.”

“You don’t know
that.
 
Anything could have
happened.”

“We’re talking now,
aren’t we?
 
You’re safe now, aren’t
you?”
 
He pressed forward before she
could reply.
 
“I asked my father for
his help today.
 
I told him about
the situation.
 
To a degree, we
smoothed things over between us.
 
He
agreed to use his contacts to find out who’s behind this.
 
The Family can find out anything,
Leana.”

“Your
family—especially your father—hates me.”

“That was in the
past.
 
He knows we’re going to be
married.
 
Above all, family is the
most important thing to him, regardless of the situation.
 
He knows you’ll be giving him
grandchildren.
 
That means a great
deal to him.
 
More than you
know.
 
It’s all about family with my
people.
 
He won’t let anything
happen to you because of it.”

“Why don’t I believe
that?”

“Because you had a rough
start with him.
 
I get it.
 
But I need you to trust me.
 
I’m not blind when it comes to my
father.
 
I know what he’s like.”

“So do I.
 
Has it ever occurred to you that he
might be the one behind the message on that tarp?
 
You know he blames me for Lucia’s
death.
 
He thinks it’s because of me
that she’s dead and that your children have no mother.”

This hadn’t occurred to
him, but there was a reason for that.
 
He knew his father better than she did.
 
“Leana, my father doesn’t play
games.
 
Ever.
 
Nobody in the Family does.
 
If he wanted to frighten you, he’d shove
a gun in your face.
 
If he wanted
you dead, he would have taken you out during our first week in Europe.
 
That’s how my father works.
 
If he wants retribution, he acts
immediately because when he feels someone’s wronged him, he doesn’t want them
to live a day longer than he feels they should.
 
It’s always been that way.
 
If he wanted to, he would have tracked
us down when we landed in Paris and neither of us would be standing here
now.
 
I’m certain about that.”

She studied his face and
saw by the hardness in his eyes that he meant it.
 
And from what she knew about Antonio De
Cicco, it rang true.
 
He was
ruthless.
 
If he wanted her dead, he
would have done the job years ago and moved on with a smile.

“Look,” she said, “we
have a lot to talk about, but I need to get a new phone so Sean can have
mine.
 
Can we just take a cab to the
Best Buy on Lex?
 
I’ll get the phone,
and then we’ll come back here and sort this out.”

“I didn’t mean to upset
you.”

“I know you didn’t.
 
It’s been a shitty day, Mario.
 
I’m just wound up.
 
I don’t mean to take any of this out on
you.”

“Then let’s get your
phone so we can move on from this, and have a quick meal, a glass of wine and a
long kiss.
 
Then we can talk about
what happened.”

“It won’t just be me
doing the talking.”

“Don’t worry.
 
I’ve got plenty to offer.”

She kissed him full on
the mouth when he said that.

“What was that for?” he
asked.

“Because I love you.
 
I’m just stressed out.
 
I’m sorry if I’m being more difficult
than usual.”

“Is that possible?”

She slapped him on the
ass and laughed.
 
Mario took her in
his arms and held her while he kissed her neck, and then her lips.

“We’ll get through this,”
she said.

“I know we will.”

*
 
*
 
*

They went up Park, turned
right onto Eighty-Eighth Street, hooked onto Lexington and drove two blocks
south until they were in front of Best Buy, which along with Staples and Petco,
took up an entire city block.
 
Since
a block of popular retail stores wasn’t complete in Manhattan without a
Starbucks attached to it, one was located at the far right end.
 

It was just past
eight.
 
The sun had long since
dipped out of sight, but the streets were active with people, many of whom were
hurrying into the entrance to the Eighty-Sixth Street Station just to the left
of Best Buy’s main entrance.
 
Leana
watched lines of men, women and children press through the doorway and rush
down the stairs to catch the 4, 5 or 6, all of which headed downtown.
 

Mario paid the
driver.
 
Leana stepped out of the
cab, quickly followed by him.
 
As
they were about to enter the store, a hail of gunshots rang out behind them.

Leana lost her bearings
and stumbled forward.

She saw the store’s glass
front doors and windows explode in front of her.
 
The falling shards covered her and she
became aware of being shoved down onto the sidewalk, her hands reflexively
reaching out to break her fall.
 

Mario slammed on top of
her, shielded her, and told her to keep her head down.
 
She tried to catch her breath as others
on the sidewalk scattered in the unfolding chaos.
 

There was a second round
of gunfire.
 
Other windows blew
apart above them, and people started to either rush deep into the store or down
into the subway for protection.
 
Sheets of glass crashed down around them.
 
She heard a child cry out for its
mother.
 
Then came the sound of
tires screaming against asphalt as the offending car sped away.

Leana was bleeding from
her face, arms and neck.
 
She could
feel the blood dripping off her.
 
Mario gently helped her to her feet, which was a challenge because, for
Leana, only half of the world was there, which made no sense to her.
 

He gently touched her
face.
 
She saw the look of concern
that crossed it, and then he lifted her into his arms and hurried her away from
the store to safety.
 
He rounded
onto Eighty-Sixth Street, held her in his arms and they remained there with
others until it was clear that they were safe.

“Why?” one woman was
saying.
 
“Why?”

“I’m so sorry,” a man
said to her.
 
“I’m so sorry.”

Her body was numb.
 
Her mind was fogged.
 
Was she in shock?
 
She had to be in shock.
 
Something wasn’t right.
 
She could feel blood dripping off her
chin.
 
There was a reason he said he
was sorry.
 

Horns sounded in the
street.
 
She was aware of movement
all around her.
 
She tried to blink,
but couldn’t.
 
It hurt too much.
 
Something was in her right eye.
 
Something was wedged into it.
 
She reached up to pull whatever it was
out but Mario quickly grabbed her hand and lowered it.

“Leana, look at me.
 
You’re bleeding.”

The world started to turn
inward.
 
She shook her head in an
effort to clear it, but her head didn’t feel right.
 
Her balance was off.
 
She couldn’t see
properly—everything was cut in half.
 
Her face felt warm and wet.
 
She blinked again and the pain was excruciating.

“Don’t blink.
 
You have a shard of glass in your right
eye.
 
Here.
 
Lift the lid with your thumb so you
don’t cause any further damage.
 
Give me your thumb.
 
Do it
like this.”

“Mario—”

“I need you to do
this.
 
I know you’re in shock, but
whatever part of you is still with me, please just lift your eyelid while I get
help.”

She did what she was
told.
 
Now, she realized why only
part of the world was there.
 
She
only could see out of her left eye.
 
“I don’t understand,” she said.
 
“I just wanted to buy a new phone.
 
Why can’t I see?
 
What
happened?”

“You’re in shock.”

“I can’t see out of my
right eye.”

“Don’t blink.
 
Keep the pressure on your upper
lid.
 
You’re doing great,
honey.
 
Keep holding the lid open
with your thumb.
 
I need to get you
to a hospital.”

Their
night ended at Lenox Hill Hospital, which specialized in eyes, ears and
throats.
 
It was located just off
Park on Seventy-Seventh Street, which fortunately was just down the street from
the shooting.
 
When she arrived at
the emergency room, Leana was admitted, assessed and rushed into surgery.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE

The next morning, she
remained in the hospital.
 
It was
early when she woke.
 
Mario was in a
chair next to her bed.
 
His shirt
was covered with dried blood, and she saw that he was awake and watching her.

“Good morning,” he
said.
 
He stood and took her hand in
his.

She was startled by the
blood on his shirt and confused by the situation.
 
She looked around the room, could only
see half of it, and lifted her hand tentatively to her right eye.
 
Mario stopped her.
 
“It’s bandaged,” he said.
 
“You’ve had surgery.”

“Surgery?”
 
Her words were slurred.

“Six hours’ worth.
 
Don’t touch your eye.”

She lowered her hand and
thought back.
 
It took her a moment,
but then she remembered the windows exploding and the glass letting loose upon
them like spears.
 
She remembered
the ambulance that took them there the night before, the ER doc who met them at
the hospital in a flash, as if her wounds were urgent, and how he taped her eye
open before a specialist was brought in to review the damage.
 
It was an older woman.
 
Serious looking, but her face was
kind.
 

“You suffered a corneal
laceration when a piece of glass cut through the cornea and caused a ruptured
globe,” Mario said.

She only half-listened to
him.
 
She remembered being rushed
down a hallway with bright lights overhead and then being given an
injection.
 
Everything went dark,
including her memories of what happened next.
 
Now what time was it?
 
Morning?
 
Late morning?
 
She searched Mario’s face.
 
“Where am I?” she asked.

“Lennox Hill.”

She didn’t trust her
memory.
 
She wanted
confirmation.
 
“What happened to
me?”

He told her.

“So, someone really does
want me dead.”

“I don’t want you to
focus on that now.”