“Stop it!” Clayton shouted.
“I won’t,” Lana muttered. “It’s time for Christian to know the truth, time for everyone to know the truth. You screwed a whore and you had
that,
” she said, aiming a shaking finger at Christian.
“She wasn’t a whore and don’t ever talk about my son that way.”
“She was a whore!” Lana shouted. “Don’t you defend her. She was a little dirty tramp you paid to screw in some fancy hotel and you know it.”
“Oh God,” Nikki whispered.
“Get inside,” Clayton ordered.
“Daddy, I can’t believe—”
“Get inside!” he roared.
Clayton moved to where Lana was standing as Nikki melted back in the house. “We agreed never to talk about this in front of anyone,” he growled, jaw clenched. “That was our understanding.”
“The hell with our understanding.”
“Were you just not ever going to tell me, Dad?” Christian asked, his eyes burning. “Were you just going to let me go on believing that this was my mother?”
Clayton turned toward Christian. “I didn’t know how to tell you, son. I—I . . .” His voice faltered. “I didn’t know how to say it.”
Christian gazed at his father. No wonder Lana had treated him differently all these years, no wonder she’d hated him. He was a walking, talking, in-your-face reminder of Clayton’s infidelity. Everything was suddenly so clear.
“Christian.”
The building across the street from Everest Capital slowly came into focus. God, how long had he been staring out the window?
“Christian!”
He swiveled around in the desk chair. Allison stood in the doorway of his office. She was wearing her hair down today, the way he preferred it, and she had on a pretty knee-length dress that followed the curves of her body perfectly. “Come in.”
“What in the world were you thinking about?” she asked, sitting down in front of him.
“Nothing important.”
“It must have been
pretty
important. You didn’t hear me call you the first couple of times.”
“I—I . . .” He didn’t finish. “What did you want to see me about?” he asked curtly. He could see she was frustrated because he wouldn’t open up.
“I was just trying to be nice. You don’t have to bite my head off.”
He nodded in a way she could take as an apology. “There’s a lot going on.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here. Talk to me, partner.”
He liked the sound of that, someone actually verbalizing their relationship with him. He could see her waiting expectantly for a response, but he said nothing, afraid of the words that might come.
“Okay, okay,” she said, her aggravation at his stonewalling obvious. “I want to bring you up to speed on the Aero Systems transaction.”
Allison was leading Everest’s attempt to buy Aero Systems, a big aircraft and auto parts aftermarket manufacturer based in San Francisco. It was the deal she’d been coming back from working on when she’d met Christian and Quentin in Las Vegas. For the next ten minutes she filled him in: They had the inside track to buy the company from the family that owned it; management was with them and they were offering a fair price. But there was an Atlanta conglomerate named Teldex sniffing around that could ruin everything; Teldex wanted to buy Aero Systems, too.
“Know anyone at Teldex?” Allison asked.
“A couple of people, including their CFO, but I don’t know them very well. Not well enough to get them to back off with a phone call. I’ll see what I can do,” he added, catching the disappointed look on her face. She was used to him being able to solve all the problems she couldn’t. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t know where to begin,” he said, grinning self-consciously.
“Come on,” she said, sliding forward on the chair, flipping her long blond hair back over one shoulder, then resting one elbow on the desk, her chin in her hand. “What is it?”
Christian took a deep breath. “Jesse Wood asked me to be his running mate if he wins the nomination at the Democratic convention.”
Allison stared at him, eyes unblinking, lips mouthing words that wouldn’t come.
“What?”
she finally asked.
“Yeah.”
“Are you kidding me?” She shook her head, then broke into a huge smile when she was certain he was serious. “Oh my God, Christian, that’s incredible. Did you accept?”
“I took the first step.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m going to sit down with Jesse for a day and get to know his platform before I commit, but right now it looks like I’ll be his vice president if he wins.”
“That’s fantastic.” She clasped her hands together tightly and put her head back. “And Jesse Wood
is
going to win the Democratic nomination. I don’t think there’s any doubt.”
“You can’t tell
anyone
about this.”
“The hell I can’t. I’m calling
The Wall Street Journal
as soon as I get out of your office.”
Christian pointed a warning finger at her. “Allison, you can’t do—”
“Oh, keep your boxers on, I’m not going to say anything to anyone. Wow, that’s great.” She raised one eyebrow. “And as a Democrat. Huh.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Wasn’t your father a Republican?”
“One of the few from California,” Christian confirmed.
“That’s what I thought. People will be surprised.”
“
Very
surprised, but it doesn’t seem to bother Jesse.”
“So, who’s going to be the new chairman of Everest?”
Christian broke into another grin. Just like her, getting right to the point. But that’s why he loved her being his partner. She was as efficient as anyone he’d ever known, even Quentin. Right down to business right away. Now, if he could just figure out her loyalty.
“Are you going to make Nigel chairman?” she asked.
“I’m not sure yet.”
She looked up. “Why not?”
“I’m thinking about making you chairman.”
Allison sat slowly back in her chair, a stunned expression on her face. “Really?”
As if she hadn’t expected it. There was no way she could have faked that reaction. “Well, chair
woman.
”
“All the other managing partners except Quentin have been here longer than me.”
“I know, but, frankly, they don’t have your drive. Or your connections. They’re good, very good, all of them, but not like you.” He hesitated. “You’re something special, Allison. I’d have complete confidence in you, and our investors would love you.” He’d never said that to a direct report before. “Would you be interested?” he asked.
She might not. If she went back to Chicago, she’d be running almost as much money as she would here, and there it would be all hers. Of course, it wouldn’t be as fun, not nearly. Most of the Wallace money was invested in boring stuff like bond and money market funds or it was with professional equity managers who were the ones who actually decided which stocks to buy. Running the Wallace Trust would be more administrative than anything—checking to make certain the returns on the many different funds they were involved with were in line with industry averages. She wouldn’t be chairing outside boards, making major decisions for huge companies, constantly interacting with some of the biggest names on Wall Street and in Washington. “I guess I need to ask you that first.”
“I’m definitely interested,” she spoke up.
Christian could see she’d just gone through the same analysis. Gordon Meade was doing a fine job overseeing the Wallace Trust. Running Everest Capital was the opportunity of a lifetime, even for her. “Good.”
She brought her hand to her chest. “Jesus, me running Everest Capital.”
“But I’m not even going to consider you if you’re really going back to Chicago when we’re through investing this fund,” Christian warned. “Like Gordon Meade seems to think you are. I need to know that you’re willing to stick around permanently before I take that step, before I could even consider you for chairman. We’re going to be revving up soon to raise the next fund, and I can’t have you leave in the middle of that.”
“Tell me the truth,” she said. “Who would you name as chairman, Nigel or me?”
“Honestly, I haven’t decided, but it’s between the two of you. That’s it.”
“What if you knew I was a hundred percent committed to Everest Capital?”
“I
don’t
know that—you haven’t given me your answer yet.”
“But what if you did know?”
“I’m not going to operate in a hypothetical—”
“Have dinner with me,” Allison interrupted. “Tonight. I’ll give you my answer then.”
He was supposed to have dinner with Faith tonight. “What about tomorrow night?”
“No. I may have to go to San Francisco. I don’t want to wait.”
Dinner with Allison was going to be tricky no matter when it was. He’d been thinking a lot about her lately. “How’d you know I wore boxers?”
She cocked her head to the side and gave him a sly look. “I knew the first moment I laid eyes on you that you were a boxers kind of guy. You’re too sophisticated to wear jockeys,
and
you’d never do anything that might keep you from being able to carry on the family name.”
“What?”
“Jockeys can cause your sperm count to be low.”
Christian rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Oh, Jesus.”
“‘Oh Jesus’ me all you want, but it’s true and someday you’ll want to have a boy, a little Christian. I know what you’re thinking.”
He shook his head. “No way.”
“
Yes
way. You just haven’t hooked up with the right woman yet.” She rose from the chair and headed for the door. “See you tonight at Grand Nuit. Eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”
Christian stared at the door for several moments after Allison was gone. She’d just assumed he’d be there tonight at eight, assumed he’d move anything else he had on his schedule to be able to show up. He put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his eyes. Bad thing about it? She was right.
IT WAS THE FIRST TIME
Hewitt had ever met with Dahl anywhere but on Champagne Island. Dahl was an active soldier, a current member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and easily recognizable around Washington. Their being spotted together would be a risk. But these were desperate times.
“What is it, Samuel?” Dahl muttered. “What’s so damn important?”
They were on the Washington Mall, secluded in a small stand of trees a few hundred yards from the Vietnam Memorial. Dahl was wearing street clothes—as Hewitt had told him to—so he wouldn’t stand out.
“Two more of us were murdered.”
Dahl’s steely dark eyes flashed to Hewitt’s.
“What? Who?”
“Laird and Massey.”
“My God. How?”
“Laird was killed coming out of a jewelry store by a hit-and-run driver in northern Virginia. Massey was found dead in a lake outside Oklahoma City. He was fishing.”
“Are you sure they were murdered?”
“Both of them dying on the same day?” Hewitt shook his head. “Come on.”
“Are the local law enforcement people calling the deaths murders?”
“Well, they’re calling Laird’s death manslaughter,” Hewitt admitted. “They’re saying whoever hit him didn’t mean to, got scared, and drove off. They’re saying they’ll probably never find out who did it. As far as Massey goes, the Oklahoma cops haven’t closed the book on his death yet. But it’s clearly not a simple case of drowning.”
“Why not?”
“There was no
cause
for the drowning. Massey didn’t have a heart attack or a stroke. The lake bottom wasn’t steep, so there’s no way he could have fallen off an underwater ledge or anything, and the weather was perfect.
And
it looks like Massey fought with somebody.”
“What do you mean?”
“Two fingers on his right hand were broken.” Hewitt watched Dahl struggle to accept the truth. Obviously, Dahl wanted the deaths to be accidents. The implications of murder were terrifying, even for a senior military man. “He was defending himself.”
“Someone’s trying to knock us all off,” Dahl whispered.
Hewitt hesitated. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re right. There’s no proof, but we’d be crazy to stick our heads in the sand and chalk all this up to coincidence.” He glanced out through the trees onto the Mall, looking for anything suspicious. “Dick, I asked you to meet with me because I trust your instincts. I thought you might have some ideas about what we could do to protect ourselves.” Hewitt motioned toward a man standing by the sidewalk fifty feet away. “I’ve hired bodyguards, but I’m not stupid. I know that’s not enough to protect me from someone who knows what he’s doing.”
Dahl followed Hewitt’s gaze. “Who the hell could it be? How would anyone know who we are?” He snapped his fingers. “Roth,” he hissed. “It’s gotta be him.”
“It’s not Roth.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’ve had my boys watching him. Roth’s been on the island or in town, that’s it. He hasn’t come to D.C., hasn’t flown to Oklahoma.”
“Maybe he’s got friends doing it for him.”
“Where would he have friends like that? Miami? I don’t think so, Dick. That’s why he left Florida. He doesn’t have any friends left down there.”
“So what do
you
think?” Dahl asked anxiously. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, but . . .” His voice trailed off, like he didn’t want to say what he was thinking.
“Come on,” Dahl urged. “What is it? What’s your gut tell you?”
“It might be one of us.” Hewitt’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe two of us.”
“DIDN’T YOU SAY
you were going to bring somebody else with you?” Roth asked as Harrison stepped off the boat onto the pier.
“I did bring somebody.” Harrison pointed out to sea. “He’s out there in another boat. He followed us from town.”
Roth looped the bowline of Harrison’s boat around a piling. “What’s going on here?” he asked suspiciously, standing up and peering out at the ocean. There was nothing in sight, and he hadn’t seen anyone follow them out of the harbor. “Why’s he waiting out there for you? What, you don’t trust me or something?”
“I trust you.” Harrison glanced toward the island. “Where’s your wife?”
“Not around.”