Park Avenue (Book Six in the Fifth Avenue Series) (57 page)

“We’re sorry, Mr. Redman,
but we’re as confused as you.
 
Scott
and his team do good work.
 
We found
nothing on him.
 
We interviewed
former clients who spoke highly of him.
 
I don’t understand why he would deceive you or your daughter.
 
He returned home from Afghanistan to use
his skills to help people like your daughter, not to harm them.
 
As far as we’re concerned, he’s clean.”

“I did call him,” George
said.
 
“I talked to him personally.
 
I hired one of his men to protect
Leana.
 
How do you explain that?”

“Are you sure you spoke
with him?”

“Of course, I’m
sure.
 
He identified himself.”

“Then I don’t know what
to tell you.
 
As far as our
intelligence is concerned, Sean Scott is as good as they come.”

“What reasons would he
have to lie to me?
 
And to her?”

“I discussed that with my
team.
 
We wondered what his motive
could be.
 
And then I thought about
something you said to me when you first called for assistance.
 
I asked you if any particular people
came to mind when you thought of who might be behind this.
 
You gave me eight names.
 
Eight.
 
Right off the top of your head as if it
were nothing.
 
That suggests that
you have plenty of enemies, Mr. Redman.
 
There are probably others that didn’t even occur to you when I put you
on the spot like that.
 
One of them
likely is behind this.
 
It’s no
secret that your daughter now has security.
 
What if one of them got to Scott and
threatened him?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“If that happened, if Scott
was somehow targeted, he may have had no choice but to lie, which means that
the security around your daughter is compromised.
 
That’s the real threat, assuming this is
the case.”

“How do we find out if
it’s the case?”

“I’ll speak to
Scott.
 
I’ll get him alone, and
hopefully he will come clean with me.
 
If he doesn’t, I’ll be able to read it on his face and I’ll know that
he’s hiding something.
 
If nothing
is there, if he’s telling the truth, I also will know.
 
I’m an expert at this.”

“How soon can you do it?”

“I’ll be at The Park
tomorrow morning.
 
I’ll wait outside
for him.
 
You told me that he picks
up Leana each morning and brings her to the hotel.
 
Correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Then I’ll be there
waiting for him.”

“Call me once you’ve had
that conversation.
 
You have the
number to my private cell.
 
I’ll
have it on me.”

Now, George wanted a
moment alone before he began what promised to be a trying day.
 
Beyond Leana’s situation, his own hotel
was opening tonight.
 
He needed to
stop by and check to make certain Pepper was on her game.
 
If she wasn’t, he needed to get her and
the hotel in line before the guests arrived.
 
Some things couldn’t be left to chance.
 
This was one of them.

So was Leana.

He stepped into the
living room and turned on the television for the morning news.
 
What he saw made him sink slowly into
one of the chairs facing the television.
 
The images made him put his juice down on the table next to him.
 
He turned up the sound and listened in
surprise.

Antonio De Cicco, capo di
capi of the New York syndicate, was being led out of an industrial-looking
building by police.
 
His hands were
cuffed behind him.
 
Dozens of other
men were being pulled out of the building, their hands also in cuffs.
 
It was evening.
 
The camera closed in on De Cicco’s face,
which was an expressionless mask.

In the network’s typical
conversational style, the broadcaster said something that stopped George cold.

“The sting was organized
after a conversation between the police and Anastassios Fondaras, the Greek
shipping tycoon, who went to them after he managed to get his family out of the
country.
 
Fondaras claims that De
Cicco and this organization have been threatening him and his family as part of
a plot
 
to murder Leana Redman.
 
Redman, of course, has recently been
under attack, with one incident leaving her new hotel defaced with slanderous
language that called her out as a murderer, and another incident involving
gunfire in which she nearly was left blind in one eye.
 

“Redman is the daughter
of billionaire George Redman, whose eldest daughter, Celina Redman, was
murdered in a revenge plot three years ago by Louis Ryan.
 
It was an event that ended with both
George and Leana Redman being shot by Ryan, who later was gunned down by
police.
 

As for Fondaras, he
claims that if he didn’t go forward with the plot, De Cicco promised to murder
his family.
 
It was only yesterday
that he was able to pull off an undercover coup to get his family out of the
country, which finally allowed him to risk coming forward.
 
To further bolster Fondaras’ story, CNN
has since confirmed that Fondaras’ daughter, Alexia Fondaras, recently was the
victim of a gruesome attack that nearly cost her her life.
 
Alexia is now with her family at an
undisclosed location.”
 

George watched the
commentator raise her hands from the table, as if even she couldn’t believe
what she was reporting.
 
“Obviously,
this is a big story, especially for the citizens of New York, where De Cicco is
a notorious crime figure.
 
Before we
go to break, we’ll leave you with this.
 
Leana Redman is married to Antonio De Cicco’s son, Mario De Cicco, whom
CNN has learned is estranged from his family.
 
Second, both Leana Redman and George
Redman are opening competing hotels tonight with lavish parties.
 
So, more proof that truth is stranger
than fiction.
 
We’ll have more after
the break, including a retrospective of De Cicco’s long life of crime in New
York, and how he managed to evade the police for over thirty years.
 
Until, of course, last night.”

When they cut to a
commercial, George put the television on mute, stood, and pulled his cell out
of his pants pocket.
 
But he nearly
dropped it because his hands were trembling with rage.
 
He closed his eyes for a moment to
steady himself.
 
He took a breath to
collect himself.

If they could get to
Fondaras, they could get to Sean Scott.

He looked for Leana’s
number, found it, and called her.
   

CHAPTER
EIGHTY

When her cell rang,
Leana’s first inclination was to ignore it.
 
But despite what was playing out on the
news and how much she needed to pay attention to it, she knew she had to answer
because of tonight’s party.
 
At this
point, anything could happen at her hotel that would force her to cancel
everything.

“Don’t answer it,” Mario
said.
 
He was sitting in their
living room, looking at the television as police led his father, brothers and
other family members away.
 
He was
pale.
 
She’d never seen him so
disturbed.

“I have to.”

She went into the kitchen
and reached for her cell on the kitchen island.
 
She looked at the number, and felt a
chill.
 
With a sense of trepidation,
she answered.
 
“Hello?”

“Leana?”

Leana closed her eyes at
the sound of her mother’s voice.
 
How long had it been since she last heard it?
 
Three years?
she thought.
 
She had yet to reconcile within herself
that more than thirty years ago, her mother had murdered another woman out of
spite.
 
She had yet to visit her in
prison.
 
She had sent letters, but
she had yet to talk to her by phone.
 
The idea of what she’d done was too much.
 
But now, the sound of her voice was an
unexpected balm to her.
 
The past
seemed to fade away at the sound of it.
 
She blinked away tears and said, “Yes.
 
It’s me.”

“Are you all right?
 
I’ve seen the news.”

“I’m fine.
 
I guess.
 
I don’t know, Mom.”

“What do you know?”

“Nothing.
 
It’s still so early.
 
I expect that either the police or
Anastassios will call shortly.
 
We
just found out twenty minutes ago.”

“We?
 
You mean you and Mario?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you safe with him?”

“Of course I am.
 
He has no part in this.”

When she said that, she
was aware of Mario looking over at her.

“Mom, I’m sorry I haven’t
called or visited.”

“I’m also sorry, but for
selfish reasons.
 
I miss you, Leana,
but I understand.
 
Don’t even think
about it.”

She wasn’t prepared for
the onslaught of emotions that assailed her at that moment.
 
They crashed into her like a wrecking
ball slamming against her from all sides.
 
She had a vision of the last time she saw her mother, who always was so
elegant to her.
 
She had to fight to
keep from crying about the state her mother likely was in now.
 
Despite what her mother had done, Leana
realized now how much she had missed her.

“Have you heard from
Dad?” she asked.

“I haven’t.”

“Ever?”

“No, but it’s fine.
 
I understand.
 
I assume he’ll ask for a divorce and
naturally I’ll grant him one.
 
He’ll
figure this out in his own time.”

“Are you OK?”

“I’m getting by.
 
Don’t worry about me.”

“How can’t I worry?”

“Because you have a life
to live.
 
I ruined mine.
 
Harold gave you that money to do great
things with, which you are.
 
I read
the papers.
 
I’ve been following you
and your hotel.
 
I want to see you
soar because of all of it.
 
Your
father was so wrong about you.
 
Everything was for Celina.
 
Now it’s your turn.”

Leana put a hand to her
face and wiped her eyes.

“But this call isn’t about
me or your father.
 
It’s about
you.
 
I’m concerned about you.
 
How long will you wait before you call
the police or Anastassios yourself?”

“Not long.
 
We’re still absorbing it.
 
I need to get my head on straight before
I talk to them about this.
 
My mind
needs to be clear.”

“Are you going forward
with your party?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is that wise?”

“They’ve caught the
bastard who’s been behind this.
 
It’s over.
 
I see no reason
to cancel it.
 
I can only hope that
people will show.”

“They’ll show,” Elizabeth
said.
 
“But you need to prepare
yourself for why they’ll show.
 
It’s
changed.
 
They’re going to want to
have a look at you, Leana.
 
And
Mario.
 
They’ll want to see how
you’re holding up, particularly since you’re married to the man whose father
did this to you.
 
Right now, both of
you are at the center of New York’s biggest story.
 
If you go through with this, you’ll need
to adopt a steel rod for a spine, because it’s going to be exhausting.
 
This no longer is the celebration you
were seeking.
 
It’s become a circus,
and you’re the draw.
 
You need to be
ready for that.”