Fast Track

  “Let’s start with a forged passport,” Jack said. “That alone will put you away. If you don’t cooperate with us, we’ll see that you go to prison for a very, very long time.” He pushed the chair back. “I’m going to go get you a lawyer now.”

  Alec followed him to the door. He turned back and said, “You’ve got five minutes before we make the call.”

  They left Kendrick to sweat—and hopefully panic—and headed to another interrogation room, where Jenkins waited. They’d had him brought up to the fourth floor so they could have another chat with him . . . or, as Alec called it, round two. The plan was to play one suspect against the other.

  In the hall Jack said, “Five minutes? You gave him five minutes to decide what he wants to do? Where did that come from? We agreed to tell him he had twelve hours, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember, but five minutes sounded more dramatic. Twelve hours didn’t have the same kick.”

  Jack laughed. “You’re right.”

  “I want to call that number now.”

  “Me, too, but we have to wait. We’re working blind here, but doesn’t it make sense that Kendrick wouldn’t call his boss an hour after landing? He wouldn’t have anything to report. So we wait a little longer, maybe five or six hours. If the boss is spooked and doesn’t answer the phone, we’re screwed, and easy becomes hard.”

  “Unless Kendrick and Jenkins tell us what we want to know.”

  The rest of the day Alec and Jack rotated between the two interrogation rooms, hoping to wear down one or the other of the two suspects, but neither Jenkins nor Kendrick was giving up anything. Threats of longer prison sentences for their crimes didn’t seem to faze them. As though they had rehearsed their denials, each separately insisted they were not taking orders from anyone.

  Jack was the last to question Kendrick. When he walked out of the room, Alec was waiting for him. “The tech is ready.”

  A minute later they stood next to a technician as he played a recording that sounded like electrical static. “Will that work?” he asked them.

  “Perfect,” Jack told him.

  “Kendrick’s going to cry entrapment, you know,” Alec said. “This will never fly in court.”

  “That’s true,” Jack admitted. “But it might give him the motivation to open up.”

  “Time to make the call,” Alec said as he picked up Kendrick’s burner phone, touched the screen, and laid the phone in the center of the desk so everyone could hear.

  The men hovered over it, listening. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . the phone kept ringing. They glanced at one another. No one was answering. Six . . . seven . . . eight . . . Alec shook his head and was about to pick up the phone when suddenly there was a click. A few seconds of silence followed, as though whoever was on the other end was waiting for the caller to speak first. Finally, the silence was broken.

  Julian Taylor answered. “Is it done?”

  • • •

  Jack and Alec couldn’t wait to have yet another chat with Charles Kendrick. They were both smiling as they entered the interrogation room. Kendrick was sitting next to his attorney, a forty-year-old man with a sour face and a disposition to match. His posture was that of someone who had been beaten down by disappointments.

  “I’m not telling you anything,” Kendrick stated defiantly. “My lawyer here, Mr. Kale, says I don’t even have to talk to you.”

  Alec and Jack pulled out chairs and sat facing them. Kendrick’s smug expression was about to change.

  Addressing the attorney, Jack said, “We’re going to be adding to the charges.”

  “What charges are you adding?” Kendrick demanded before his attorney could say a word.

  Alec answered. “We know you came here to kill Cordelia Kane, and we can prove it.”

  Kendrick leaned forward. “How?” he asked with self-righteous indignation. “How can you prove it?”

  “Glad you asked,” Jack said. “We called the number on your burner and talked to Julian Taylor.”

  Kendrick didn’t look so cocky now. “He talked to you? I don’t believe it. He talked to you?” he repeated.

  Jack answered. “He didn’t actually talk to us.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Alec confirmed.

  Jack explained. “He thought he was talking to you. He made the assumption, and we didn’t correct him.”

  Kendrick seemed confused. “You’re lying.”

  “We’re FBI agents,” Alec stated authoritatively. “We never lie.” He was somewhat surprised he got that out without laughing.

  “We recorded the conversation,” Jack told the attorney. “Would you like to hear it?” He put the phone down and pushed the button.

  Julian’s voice was loud and clear. “Is it done? Is Cordelia Kane dead? Answer me.”

  Static muffled the answer. “No . . . not yet.”

  Kendrick’s eyes widened when he heard a response. “You should have told him who you were. You tricked him by not identifying yourself.”

  “We sure did,” Jack said. “I guess you could say we’re tricky.”

  He pushed the button again to continue the recording.

  “You’re not getting the rest of the money until that gold digger is dead. It needs to happen fast. I thought I conveyed the urgency here. They collected my daughter’s glass for her DNA. Get it done.” He repeated the demand in a near shout. “And if you run into that coward Jenkins, tell him he’s fired.”

  The conversation ended.

  “The static we put in there helped sell it, don’t you think?” Alec asked.

  “It will never hold up in court,” Kale blustered. “Never. It’s entrapment.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Alec said. Since they had no intention of using the tape, they didn’t care if it would hold up in court or not. They wanted Kendrick and Jenkins to talk.

  “I know the law,” Kale snapped.

  “So do we,” Jack replied.

  “I’ll file a motion—”

  “Go ahead.”

  “We also have Arnold Jenkins. He’s giving you up, Charles. He’s answering all our questions. We already played the call for him.”

  “He seized the opportunity. You didn’t,” Alec said.

  “I think we’re through here.” Jack picked up the phone and stood to leave.

  Alec followed him. They walked out into the hallway, and just as the door was closing behind them, they heard Kendrick yell, “Wait a minute.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  The news shouldn’t have surprised Cordie, but it did.

  “You’re certain it was Julian Taylor on the phone?”

  Alec nodded. “Liam confirmed it, and so did a lot of other people. It was Julian.”

  “It makes sense,” Aiden said. “With Simone’s shares, Julian now controls fifty-one percent of Merrick stock. He can overrule the board whenever he wants. As soon as twenty percent is transferred to you, Cordelia, his power is gone.”

  “But if I weren’t around, he would lose it to Simone’s son when he turned twenty-one,” she pointed out. She walked over to the bar where they were standing and sat down on a stool.

  “Simone gave Julian her shares to control, and I’m sure he could get his grandson to do the same thing.”

  Both Aiden and Alec were being very calm and matter-of-fact about this latest development. Cordie, on the other hand, wanted to start screaming. She now understood why children had tantrums. It was a thoroughly satisfying way to let out pent-up frustration. She wanted to pick up objects and hurl them across the room. Nature seemed to empathize. The weather complemented her mood. A hard rain was pelting the windows of the suite, and every other minute a clap of thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance. The wind was gathering momentum.

  “As soon as Kendrick and Jenkins found out we knew who they were wo
rking for, they understood they’d lost their leverage. We can’t get them to stop talking now. They’ve turned on each other and on Julian, both trying to get a deal.”

  “They were with Simone when she confronted me at the hotel in Sydney. I assumed they worked for her.”

  “They did work for her, but they also reported everything she did to her father. That’s when he found out you were back in the picture. According to Kendrick, Julian has known about you for a very long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Since you were a baby.”

  “What?” She all but fell off the stool. “This just keeps getting creepier and creepier.”

  Alec was rummaging through the refrigerator behind the bar. He took out a bottle of Kelly’s root beer and opened it. “There are some real serious trust issues in that family,” he said.

  “He spies on his daughter. Why would he do that?” she asked.

  “He’s protecting his interest,” Aiden explained.

  “Kendrick was more of a confidant than Jenkins was,” Alec said. “He would sit and drink straight vodka shots with Julian a couple of times a month. That’s when Julian would talk about family. One night he told Jenkins that Simone had run away when she was a teenager. It took him some time to find her, and when he did, he got the shock of his life. He couldn’t believe what she had done.”

  “Did she know she would inherit stock when she turned twenty-one?” Cordie asked. She looked to Aiden for an answer.

  “I’m sure she did.”

  “That might be another reason she used the name Natalie Smith,” Alec said. “I don’t think she had any intention of staying with your father. She gave birth, and a short time later she took off.”

  “Julian told Kendrick he was about to send a couple of men to drag her back to Australia, but it wasn’t necessary. She came home, apologized for making him worry, and went on with her life. She never mentioned you or your father to anyone.”

  “What happens to Julian now?”

  “He’s been arrested,” Alec said.

  “I wish I had been there to see him taken in,” Aiden said.

  Alec agreed. “When the Australian press gets hold of this, they’ll have a heyday. I’ve got a strong feeling Simone won’t win Woman of the Year again.”

  “Dear God, I’m genetically linked to those people,” Cordie declared. “I wish I had never started this, but at least it’s over now. Right?”

  “Not quite,” Alec told her.

  “Oh, come on. Who else wants to kill me? Simone? Her husband? The teenagers?” She grabbed a long swizzle stick and slid part of it under her cast.

  “Cordelia, what are you doing?” Aiden asked, looking appalled.

  She pulled the swizzle stick out. “It itches,” she explained before turning to Alec again. “Who’s after me now?”

  “No one that I know of, but we are going to continue to be cautious until the stock is officially transferred to you, which will be in a couple of days.”

  “Julian will try to stop it.”

  “He won’t be able to,” Alec assured her. “Liam has your DNA results now. He has people who can make it happen.”

  She absentmindedly reached for the swizzle stick again. Aiden stopped her. “You could lose one of those in there.”

  She didn’t think it was a good idea to tell him she already had.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Congressman Mitchell Ray Chambers was prepared to dazzle his constituents. He had set up a press conference a week before the primary to remind the good people of Fallsborough that he was saving their town by working so diligently for the past year to get the Hamilton Hotel and Resort to Rock Point.

  He hadn’t signed the contract Walker Madison had FedExed to him. He had cleverly scheduled the signing for a week after the primary was over. Chambers had agreed to accept a ridiculously low offer and had, in fact, suggested the amount, but he had no intention of ever signing the contract. He still believed he could get a considerably higher price, and now that Walker Madison was involved, he was more confident than ever. It was going to be much easier to manipulate the youngest brother. All Mitchell needed to do was convince his constituents that he had been willing to do whatever it took to make Fallsborough wealthy and prosperous. Then, once he had the primary in his pocket, he would do whatever it took to make himself wealthy and prosperous. He was absolutely certain, with the Madison brothers back at the negotiating table, he could bargain his way into a sweet deal. His constituents didn’t need to know any of those particulars, however.

  Mayor Green didn’t stand a chance against him now, and he was assured of a reelection victory in November. Politics was all about manipulation.

  He didn’t have to worry about his cousin Lester whining and complaining or embarrassing him in front of the cameras, because he’d bought him out and was now the sole owner of Rock Point. The high price he’d paid Lester was going to be well worth it.

  He dressed in red, white, and blue for the press conference: a navy suit, a crisp white shirt, and a bright-red tie. He pinned a tiny American flag on his lapel and was ready. The press conference was choreographed in his mind. He had worked out how he would make his grand entrance, where he wanted the podium placed, and, most important, where the flag would be positioned. He wanted it behind him and a little to the left so that on camera the flag would be in every frame with him. He had even practiced a couple of different expressions in front of a mirror. He needed to look humble yet at the same time stately and intelligent. He would brag, of course, but it would be veiled behind his explanation of how hard he’d worked to get the hotel. He was sure he had it all figured out.

  • • •

  The double doors were open to the campaign office. Aiden stayed in the lobby out of sight, but he could see Chambers up on a small stage. A large crowd had gathered to hear what he had to say. Microphones and cameras were capturing every word. Aiden planned to wait until the questions began before walking in. He wished Cordelia were with him. She’d be as disgusted as he was with the congressman’s antics, trying to look self-deprecating while taking credit for everything but inventing the Internet. As he spoke, he kept putting his right hand inside his suit jacket over his heart. Was he trying to look like Napoleon? Worse than his phony smile was his speech. Every word out of his mouth was a lie. Every damn word. If Cordelia were standing at Aiden’s side, she’d want to challenge Chambers with facts and figures.

  As Aiden stood there listening to all the empty campaign rhetoric, he couldn’t help but think how much the congressman and Julian Taylor were alike. They were both controlled by power and greed. Julian had proven he would do anything to hold on to his empire, and the congressman was proving he would do anything to get reelected. How long had he been dealing with people like Chambers? he wondered. It made him tired just thinking about it.

  The congressman was ready for questions. Mayor Green pushed forward and raised her hand. “Congressman, we are all wondering if you have signed the contract with the Madisons for Rock Point.” Before he could answer, she continued. “Or is it going to be like the last time when you changed the terms and pulled out?”

  His tone was condescending when he said, “I don’t know where you got that information, but it’s wrong. You should check your sources, Mayor, before you make accusations.”

  He took another question on the other side of the room, determined to avoid eye contact with the mayor. The questions were all about the hotel and resort. How many jobs did he think would be available? How long did he think it would take to build?

  Aiden could see the desperation in the local residents. Spencer was right. These hardworking people needed a break. He was amazed by some of the congressman’s answers. Chambers acted as though he’d drawn up the plans for the hotel and could even give them the dimensions for each of the rooms. He spoke with such authority.

 
The mayor drew his attention once again. She was now in front of the crowd, demanding with her hand waving in the air that he acknowledge her. “You haven’t answered my question,” she blurted when he had to stop talking to take a breath.

  “What question did you want answered?” He sounded weary.

  “Have you signed the contract with the Madisons? Last time we heard you changed your mind. It was on the news.”

  “You can’t believe everything you see on television,” he said.

  “Answer the question,” someone called out. “Did you sign it? Are we getting the hotel?”

  “Of course you’re getting the hotel,” he scoffed.

  “Did you sign the contract?” the mayor demanded once again.

  The smile plastered on the congressman’s face was beginning to crumble. “No, I haven’t.”

  The crowd turned on him in a heartbeat. Bolstering the smile again, he put his hands up and said, “Hold on, hold on. I’ve read the contract, and everything is in order. Walker Madison and I have decided we should meet in person and both sign. It’s the right thing to do. I let Walker set the date at his convenience. I know you all heard about his terrible car accident.” He abruptly stopped, swallowed loud enough for the microphone to pick up, and finally lost the plastic smile. Eyes wide, he watched Aiden Madison walking toward him.

  The look on the congressman’s face was priceless, and Aiden once again thought that, if only Cordelia were here, she would be laughing now. She would also love what was about to happen.

  “That’s it for today, ladies and gentlemen,” Chambers blurted. “I’ve got to hurry back to Washington for an important vote.”

  Aiden stepped up to the microphone and promptly captured the crowd’s attention. They all knew who he was.

  “My name is Aiden Madison, and I have a great surprise for you and for the congressman.” He scanned all the curious faces and glanced over at Chambers before continuing. “I have the contract with me, and you’ll get to watch both of us sign. My brothers and I are anxious to get started on this project, and I know you are, too.”