Echoes of Titanic (7 page)

Lou huffed, looking at Kelsey. “Why are you wasting your time with this guy?” With his expensive suit, black slicked-back hair, and short, muscular build, Lou cut an imposing figure. But she knew he was all bark and no bite. Beneath his dark glower, he was probably every bit as confused as she was.

She ignored his comment and asked, “What makes you think Adele was an imposter?”

“I have proof,” Rupert replied. “The real Adele died the night
Titanic
sank, as did her uncle, Rowan Brennan. Of the three, only Jocelyn survived, but when she was rescued from the lifeboat and realized the other two were dead, she made a decision. On the rescue ship they asked her name, she said she was Adele Brennan, they wrote it down, and that was that. Once she got to America, her father didn't know she was actually Jocelyn 'cause he hadn't seen Adele since she was three years old. He bought Jocelyn's story, hook, line, and sinker, and welcomed her as his daughter.”

Kelsey sat back, astounded at this man's claim.

“So, basically, you're saying your grandfather's sister stole her cousin Adele's identity and lived out the rest of her life as a lie?”

“Yep. And I have proof.”

“And what kind of proof would that be?”

A smug, self-righteous expression began to spread across his face. “I'm saving that for the courts to see.”

“The courts?” Kelsey asked, glancing at Walter. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. It's up to management, of course, but I doubt we'll be pressing charges.”

“Pressing charges? What are you talking about?
I'm
suing
you
—and your company too.”

“You're
what?
” Kelsey cried, standing. She'd reached her limit for pretending to be calm. “Why? What for?”

“For half of Adele's inheritance.”

She stared at him, incredulous. He continued.

“It's complicated, but it has to do with an old family will. Because of the fraud perpetrated by Jocelyn Brennan, Adele's father's estate was paid out incorrectly when he passed away. Fully half his fortune should have gone to his nephew, Quincy and, obviously, down the line to Quincy's heirs. Instead, it went to Adele—who wasn't really Adele at all. Get it?”

Kelsey did
not
“get it,” but at the moment she wasn't going to waste time trying to sort out the details. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, held it in, and then slowly let it out. Whether there was any merit to this guy's claims or not—and surely there was not—it didn't matter. The truth was that any “inheritance” that might have been passed down to Adele from her father had evaporated in the stock market crash of 1929. He had retired by then, and it was up to Adele and Edwin to keep the company afloat. If not for their efforts in getting them through the tough economic years following the crash, not only would the business have ended in bankruptcy, but when Sean died about ten years later, he wouldn't have had any fortune to leave behind to her anyway. Opening her eyes, she looked intently at Rupert and tried to explain just that.

“Do you understand what I'm saying?” she concluded. “There was no fortune to be had. The only reason Adele's father had any money at all when he died was because Adele had earned it
for
him.”

“Ah, but there's still the matter of the bonds,” Rupert replied triumphantly. “Don't forget he had those.”

At the word “bonds,” both Walter and Lou sprang to life.

“
That's
what all this has been about?” Walter cried, throwing his hands in the air.

“You gotta be kidding!” Lou said with a laugh.

“What bonds?” Kelsey asked, looking from one to the other.

Walter was the first to answer, saying that part of the “legend of Adele” was that she'd come to America with a handful of bonds purchased in England with her father's money, and that those bonds had grown quite valuable over time. Word had it that over the years whenever things got tight at Brennan & Tate, all Adele had to do was cash in one of those bonds and then she would use the proceeds to get them through the difficult spot.

“I've never heard that story.”

“It's an old chestnut,” Lou said. “Like Sasquatch or the Jersey Devil.”

“Unicorns or leprechauns,” Walter added.

Both men laughed, but Kelsey wasn't finding anything funny about this situation. Turning to Rupert, she again took her seat and spoke to him earnestly and calmly.

“Look, bonds or not, if you feel that there's a problem with how one of our ancestors' estates was paid out, this isn't the way to address it. You can't go around accusing my great-grandmother of being an imposter in a public forum when she's not even here to defend herself.”

“I told you, I have proof—”

“Proof or not, Rupert, you're going about this all wrong. Before anybody sues anyone, what we need to do is get someone experienced in trusts and estates to sit down and review the facts and see if we can't figure out if your claims have any merit. This matter can be worked out privately and fairly. There's no need for any more public outcries, okay?”

She was trying to sound as calm and reasonable as she could, so she was surprised when Rupert's cheeks flushed a bright red, his shoulders slumped, and he cast his eyes downward. Behind him, the redhead cleared her throat and took a small step forward.

“The problem is,” she said in a tentative voice, “he's already tried that. Nobody will take the case.”

The room fell silent. And though Kelsey was still upset about what this man had done, she also found herself feeling sorry for him. Clearly, he was unstable. He didn't need justice. He probably just needed medication.

The redhead came and knelt beside the man's chair.

“Come on, Rupert,” she said softly, “you had to know this is how it would end.”

He closed his eyes tightly shut, refusing to respond.

“These nice people coulda sent you to jail, and instead they're willing to
forgive and forget. More than that, they're gonna give you some money and a vacation and even a limo to take us there. Have you ever been in a limo before?”

Eyes still closed, he shook his head from side to side.

“Me neither. See? This'll be fun. We'll do like Miss Tate said and go on a nice little trip and handle things in a more private fashion later. She seems very fair. They all seem fair. So what d'ya say, huh? Shall we go for our ride in that big, fancy car?”

They all seemed to hold their collective breaths until finally Rupert Brennan gave one nearly imperceptible nod.

Exhaling with relief, Kelsey stood and stepped away as Walter told them he already had the limo waiting on standby just around the corner. Then he looked to the remaining security guard and said to have the limo pull up front.

“Up front?” the guard replied, reaching for a walkie-talkie at his belt. “Wouldn't it be smarter to take them out the back?”

Walter shook his head. “The reporters in that lobby need to see him leaving or they will never go away.”

Nodding, the security guard conveyed the message as Kelsey pulled Walter aside.

“What makes you think he'll make it all the way to the limo without having another outburst?” she whispered.

Walter glanced at the man, who was still in his chair, slumped in a heap. “Not to worry. I'll escort him out personally.”

Seeing on the screen how rabid those reporters were getting, Kelsey wasn't sure that would be enough. She glanced at the security guard and said, “Please don't use pepper spray or do anything violent if the situation gets out of hand. That could only make things a thousand times worse.”

He chuckled. “There's no pepper spray around here, Miss Tate. This being an office building, we generally don't carry any weapons. I know that Ephraim keeps a Taser in his desk, but he's the only one certified to use it.”

“Okay, good,” she said. While she hated the thought of Rupert going out there and becoming verbal again, she could only imagine the PR nightmare that would ensue if some kind of force were used against him—especially if it ended up getting caught on film and replayed on the six o'clock news.

“Don't worry, ma'am. This will go fine,” the guard assured her. “I used to work stage door security on Broadway. If I can get Hugh Jackman into a limo
without him getting his clothes torn off, I can get this guy out of here and on his way without any disruptions.”

She smiled and thanked him, somewhat relieved.

A crackle from the walkie-talkie was followed by the voice of Ephraim, who told them that the limo was out front. The guard took charge then, and in a calm, steady tone he explained exactly how this was going to go, that Walter would stand to Rupert's right, the redhead to his left, and the guard would lead the way. They were to ignore everyone and everything between here and the limo and not answer any questions or stop to pose for any photographs.

“The driver has your money,” Walter added, looking from Rupert to the redhead. “If you can make it out of here without any further problems, you'll be given that money once you reach your destination.”

“Thank you, sir,” the woman replied, helping Rupert out of his chair.

“Once they've driven off,” Walter said to the security guard, “I need you and Ephraim to make sure that if anyone tries to hail a cab with the intention of following, there's enough of a delay that the limo's out of sight before they go. The limo will be doing a few evasive maneuvers, but if somebody's persistent, that won't be enough by itself.”

“No problem, sir.”

Turning to Kelsey, Walter said, “After they've left, I'll stay out there and take questions from the reporters. I'll try to spin things as best I can.”

“Do you want me with you?” she asked wearily.

To her relief he shook his head. “No, I want you leaving here right away—out the back door. How do you usually go home?”

“You mean what streets do I take?”

“No. Subway? Bus? Walk?”

“Oh. Walk. I always walk. I'm just over in Battery Park City.”

“Okay. Well tonight I want you to take a cab. Lou? You on it?”

“Absolutely.”

Kelsey started to object but then thought better of it. Let Walter do what he had to do, and she would do what she had to do.

Things happened quickly after that. Without a word of thanks or goodbye or apology from Rupert or the redhead, they left with Walter and the guard. Only Lou and Kelsey remained in the security office, watching them file out the door and form ranks. Once it shut behind them, Kelsey turned her attention to the screen showing that part of the lobby.

She held her breath as she watched them go, the guard parting the crowd ahead of them. He really did seem to know what he was doing, and with Walter and the woman shielding Rupert from each side, their little group made it all the way out to the curb and into the vehicle without incident. Thank goodness.

“All right,” Lou said, standing next to her, also watching the screen. “Let's get you out of here.”

“Not so fast,” she replied. “I need to go up and talk to Gloria first.”

Lou frowned. “Sorry, kiddo. I told Walter I'd get you into a cab and that's what I'm going to do.”

They argued for a moment, and then Kelsey settled the matter by saying they would let Gloria decide. She grabbed the nearest phone and dialed her extension. When the woman answered on the first ring, Kelsey asked if she could come up so they could talk.

“Absolutely not,” Gloria replied vehemently. “You need to get away from here as fast as you can. Don't speak to anyone, and don't stop anywhere along the way. Just go straight home.”

“And do what once I get there? Paint my nails? Surf the web? Gloria, today was a disaster! I have to do something about it or I'll explode.” Much to Kelsey's chagrin, at that moment her voice broke. Pausing, she swallowed back a sob and tried to get control of herself. It was one thing to be strong in front of Walter and the others, but now that the only ones to hear her were Lou and Gloria, dear friends both, she was finding it a bit harder to maintain her composure. “I…I was hoping you could help me figure things out…both why this happened and what we're going to do about it.”

Gloria was quiet for a long moment. When she finally spoke, the sharpness was gone from her voice. Clearly, she could tell Kelsey was at her limit.

“Go home, Tater Tot,” she said gently. “I know this is all very confusing and upsetting, but I promise you, it'll all make sense soon. Do you hear what I'm telling you? Trust me on this.”

Kelsey closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. She had always been able to trust Gloria before. It seemed she had no choice but to trust her now.

“Fine,” she whispered. They said their goodbyes and she hung up the phone.

Lou and Kelsey left the office the same way they had come in, only this time he didn't wedge a thousand-dollar shoe in the door. Instead, he made her wait inside the stairwell while he went out to see if the coast was clear
and to hail a cab. A minute later she heard a knock, so she opened the door and looked out.