Hideaway Cove (A Windfall Island Novel) (26 page)

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“It’s the Stanhopes we’re counting on to be stupid.”

“Yeah, well, that particular commodity always seems to be in good supply.”

“Says the voice of experience?”

Maggie grinned. “Bet your ass, which is how I know you won’t take my advice.” And with that parting shot, Maggie melted into the crowd to position herself where she could keep an eye on Clayton.

“She has a point,” Dex said in Jessi’s ear.

“I’ll do exactly what we agreed on,” Jessi muttered, smiling at a woman in a cut-to-the-navel, slit-to-the-hip dress who was giving her a sidelong look. Someone, Jessi thought, ought to tell her that a mature—and matronly—woman who wore a dress like that had more to worry about than a stranger having a conversation with herself. But it wouldn’t be Jessi.

“Clayton Stanhope won’t see us in private, so this is the only chance we’ll have to talk to him,” Dex said. “That doesn’t mean I have to like putting you in the crosshairs.”

“We agreed that Clayton won’t try anything here, with all these people around,” Jessi reminded him. “So let’s get him out in the open once and for all.”

“Go for it, Mata Hari.”

Jessi took a minute to compose herself, with deep breaths and shoulder rolls, before she approached Clayton Stanhope. She didn’t try to make it seem like a chance meeting, didn’t try to charm him. With her nerves stretched to the breaking point already, it seemed best just to get on with it.

Still lounging with one elbow on the long oak bar, he took the hand she offered. “Clayton Stanhope,” he said. “Have we met?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” His smile went from puzzled to charming. “I’d be worried about getting old if I didn’t remember such a lovely young woman, Ms.…”

“You won’t be feeling so complimentary when I tell you where I’m from.” After a beat and nothing more than a slightly bemused stare from him, she added, “I’m from Windfall Island.”

He straightened, composing himself so quickly Jessi wondered if she’d only seen that split second of surprise because she wanted to.

“Never heard of Windfall Island?” she asked him.

And yeah, she definitely saw it this time—shock widening his eyes before calculation narrowed them.

“I didn’t realize you were on the guest list,” he said, his eyes roaming the room, even as he maneuvered them to put her back to the crowd. Anyone who noticed them would only see him conversing with a woman with no idea what she looked like. Not that it mattered.

“Oh, I know all sorts of people,” Jessi said. “I’ll bet I even know your latest hireling. You won’t play fair and tell me his name, but I know it’s a Windfaller who couldn’t resist the money you waved under his nose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about you or one of your relatives hiring a young man named Mort to try to kill Maggie Solomon because you were afraid you might have to say good-bye to part of the Stanhope fortune.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would this Solomon woman be worth a penny of the Stanhope legacy?”

“Eugenia.”

His face cleared from mottled red to white.

“That’s right. Maggie might have been your niece, Eugenia’s long lost granddaughter. She’s not, and I imagine if she met you she’d be grateful. But there may be a descendant out there. What are you willing to do to make that person disappear?”

“Eugenia is dead,” he hissed. “My grandmother just couldn’t let her go, and she convinced Rose to continue this ridiculous search. We’re all just humoring her so we can put this nonsense away once and for all.”

“Oh, one of you is doing more than humoring Rose.”

Clayton drew himself up, glaring down his nose at her. “I have nothing to do with any of this.”

“Sure you do. If not directly, then you’re willing to sit back while one of your relatives gets his or her hands dirty. That doesn’t make you innocent.”

He took her by the elbow. “I don’t know how you gained entrance to this event, but I believe Security may be interested.”

Jessi smiled thinly. “Go ahead, call Security. I wonder what those reporters over there will think about you having me escorted out after they’ve watched us talk very intensely.”

He twisted around until he could see the gaggle of society reporters and photographers by the entrance. Most of them were watching the doors, waiting to see who arrived next, or scanning the ballroom in hopes of drama. At least one of them was watching her and Clayton with patent curiosity.

Clayton reined in his temper, but he didn’t let her go, and tried to steer her into the crowd.

Jessi dug her heels in. With that Clayton let her go rather than make a scene.

“Careful,” Dex said into her ear. “If he gets too angry he may just walk away.”

But Dex couldn’t see his face, Jessi thought. Clayton was angry all right, but he was also hooked. “I wonder,” she said to him, “what would happen if I walked over to those reporters and told them all about the search for Eugenia’s heirs.”

“Go ahead,” he said icily. “It will get press, certainly. The Stanhope name and fortune up for grabs?” He shook his head. “Every fortune hunter and lunatic in the country will come out of the woodwork. My family can retreat behind the walls of our estate, hire bodyguards, keep the press and the greedy at bay until the story blows over again. But what about that worthless little speck of land you call home?”

“I imagine the notoriety will allow it to live up to its name. Tourism is our main industry after all, and capitalizing on Eugenia’s fate would certainly be a windfall for the island.”

“If you’re not overrun.”

“We might not have walls and bodyguards, but we know how to handle crowds—and crazies.”

“So it’s money you’re after.”

“It’s peace I’m after, for myself and everyone I know and love. But I don’t think we’ll get peace until the truth comes out. So here’s my truth, Clay.” She kept her eyes on Clayton’s so she could gauge his reaction. “I found a blanket stored away in my attic, pink wool edged with satin and embroidered with three initials. Can you guess what they are?”

His face went white. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? There are no descriptions of it anywhere, and believe me, I’ve checked.”

“
Jessi
.” This time it was Hold’s voice, and that made her pause, made her already pounding heart slam painfully into her ribs. “Jessi, what the hell are you doing? I mean, Dex told me, but what if something happens to you? Who’s going to protect Benji then?”

She could hear the worry in his voice, could so easily imagine him pacing, running his hands back through his hair in exasperation. His words gave her pause, but she wouldn’t let him steal her determination.

“I’ve thought this through very carefully,” she said, and not just for Clayton’s benefit. “I’ll give you the blanket and sign whatever you want me to sign. I’ll waive any rights to the Stanhope name and money.”

“In return for?”

“Two million dollars.” They’d known he would expect her to have a price. “Trust me, it’s a bargain.”

“Two million dollars is a bargain?”

“It is when a third of the Stanhope fortune would run in the hundreds of millions. That’s what Eugenia’s heir would be in line for, right? A third?”

“Jessi.” Hold again, and she could hear the struggle he was waging to keep his voice calm. “He won’t live up to any deal he makes, and he’s too smart to say anything to incriminate himself.”

Which was why she was trying to punch through his control. “I may not be able to prove that blanket belonged to Eugenia, but how do you think Rose would take it?”

A muscle in his jaw worked, and she could see his pulse beating fast.

“You want this search to be over, don’t you?” she pushed. “You’ve gone to great lengths to make sure no heirs come forward.”

Clayton’s gaze jumped to meet hers, and even as she knew she’d gone at him too hard and fast, he drew himself up. “I have no idea what you’re getting at, young woman, but you should be careful.”

“Why? Are you going to send someone to kill me, like you did Maggie Solomon?” Jessi kept her voice down. There was only one set of ears she was playing for.

Clayton’s eyes darted around, assuring himself there was no one close enough to have overheard. He didn’t deny her accusation. But he hadn’t admitted anything, either.

“Does the name Mort Simpkins mean anything to you?”

His gaze shifted to hers again. “No.”

She studied his face, saw only relief and superiority, and knew she’d lost him.

“He wouldn’t have hired Mort directly,” the voice in her ear—Dex’s voice now—said. “Circle back to the money.”

“So you don’t do your own dirty work,” she said. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t send someone after the blanket. And her. It was their last hope—if they could get their hands on his henchman, they might be able to get the proof they needed to stop Clayton.

“Two million dollars, Clayton. The offer is good until midnight. Not one second longer.”

“And if I go to the police and tell them you’re blackmailing me?”

“Go ahead, call the police. I’m sure when they hear the facts, they’ll agree that I’m only selling you something that’s worth a great deal more than I’m asking.”

He kept his eyes level on hers, but again, she knew she had him. “How do you expect me to get my hands on that much cash at this time on a Saturday evening?”

“Really? You’re going to stand there and tell me you can’t pull it off? That one of the guys in this room, one of your friends, isn’t in a position to open a bank for you?”

The muscle in his jaw bunched. “How will I get in touch with you?”

“I’ll be right here, waiting.” She started to turn away.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “The blanket. I’ll expect you to turn it over to me before I give you the check.”

She shrugged. “Of course. See you at midnight.”

H
old blew out a breath. It didn’t help. Seeing Jessi safe didn’t calm the fear. She’d loaded a weapon, put it into Clayton Stanhope’s hands, and sent him off without the least idea who he might hand that weapon to.

He ignored Dex’s attempts to talk him down, brushing people out of his way as he crossed the crowded ballroom. “Are you insane?” he asked Jessi when he got to her.

“No.” She looked to Dex, who’d joined them now that their plan had been set in motion and there was no need for him to stay in hiding. “This is what we agreed to do, right?”

“Pretty much. And you did a hell of a job, Jessi.” Dex turned to Hold. “Not quite so easy to justify the risk when it’s someone you love on the line, is it?”

Only a few weeks before, Maggie had been on the hot seat, and Dex had refused to send her DNA off to the lab.

Hold opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking. What could he say when he’d gone against Dex and helped Maggie to make herself a target?

“Fat lot of good it did us,” Hold grumbled anyway.

“I didn’t get him to incriminate himself.” Jessi removed the Bluetooth device and slapped it into Hold’s palm. “But we’ve got him on tape, and when he shows up to buy the blanket—”

“It still won’t amount to a hill of beans as far as evidence goes.”

“It will add to the case against him,” Jessi insisted.

“It doesn’t prove he had any involvement in the attempt on Maggie’s life, and it won’t stop him from coming after you,” Hold said.

“It’s done,” Jessi said flatly.

“If I’d had a say, it never would have started.”

“Well, you weren’t around to object, were you?” When Hold opened his mouth to fire back, Jessi closed her eyes and held her hands up. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. What happened after I walked away?” she said to Dex.

“Clayton’s son joined him at the bar,” Dex said. “The two of them have been tossing back scotch and talking intensely. Neither of them have left the room or made a phone call. But it’s only been a few minutes.”

Hold took a second to rein himself in, with the assurance he’d finish this conversation with Jess. “When I found out what you were up to, I texted my brother. James runs Abbot Investments, and he always has his ear to the ground about his competitors. It seems Stanhope Securities’ finances may not be as sound in reality as they look on paper. James seems to think there might be some creative accounting going on.”

“And now we have an even stronger motive.” Dex smiled suddenly, and when Hold turned around he saw why.

“Yippee.” Jessi rubbed at her temple, as if she had a headache brewing. “I think I’ll go to the ladies room.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, Maggie, stay here with Dex. I’ll be fine. I just need a couple of minutes.”

Hold watched her go, and felt like scum. It couldn’t have been easy for her to take on Clayton Stanhope alone. And he had to admit now that he’d calmed down, she’d done a hell of a job, just like Dex had said.

And he’d come down on her like a ton of bricks, at a moment when she was already so worn down. She’d put herself in the line of fire in an attempt to expose whoever wanted to remove any possible Stanhope heirs, and just when he needed to stay close, everything he did pushed her away.

“You don’t have to say it,” he said to Maggie when he caught sight of her expression.

“Have you told her you’re in love with her?”

“I don’t think he’s told himself yet,” Dex observed.

“If you don’t know it by now,” Maggie said to him, “there’s no hope for you. I’m going to find Jessi.”

Hold watched her set off in the same direction Jessi had gone. “We’re not going to stand here and talk about our feelings, are we?” he said to Dex.

“My feelings aren’t the issue,” Dex pointed out. “As far as I’m concerned, the only person you need to discuss yours with is Jessi.”

Hold exhaled heavily. “I’m not sure she’ll listen to anything I have to say, let alone believe me.” But he knew she had a very forgiving heart. All he needed to do was let her see he trusted her—and grovel a whole lot—and she’d let him back into her life.

Then he saw Maggie coming back. Alone.

She wasn’t supposed to leave the ballroom, but Jessi needed some privacy. Paige was in their suite, but there was another bedroom, and a bath. She really wanted to soak in a steamy tub full of bubbles. What better place to nurse her pain until the first sharp edge of it passed and she could face the pity of the people who loved her?

The effort of holding in the pain, holding back the tears, made the lobby seem like a sea of marble. She’d crossed barely half of it when she heard her name from a voice that surprised her enough to make her stop, turn.

There was Lance, wearing a dark suit and a wide, easy smile. As if he belonged there.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” he said, taking her elbow and falling into step with her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Benji told me you were going to Boston— Don’t look so irritated, you had to leave that stupid dog with the neighbors. I’d have gotten it out of them anyway.”

“Not everyone knows your charm is just a veneer to hide the slime filling.” She jerked her arm free.

The look that came into his eyes gave her a chill. But it was Lance, she thought. He was harmless. “So you found out where we were going and followed us. Why?”

“I thought I’d join the party.”

“You have to be invited. They won’t let you in otherwise.”

“You are such a hick,” he said with a laugh. “I didn’t mean that party.” He glanced back at the door to the ballroom. “They’ll let me in before long. I’ve got my invitation right here.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, snugged her close to his side.

“Ouch.” Jessi looked down, but even when she saw the glint of silver it took her a minute to connect it with the prick of pain in her side. “Why do you have a knife?”

“Shut up,” he whispered, coldly furious.

“What are you doing?”

“I said shut up.” And he shoved the knife into her side.

She cried out, stumbled.

“It’s all right, darling,” Lance said. Then he said more loudly, for the benefit of the desk clerks watching them, “She had a little too much to drink. We’ll just get you upstairs and into bed, honey.”

“Don’t,” he hissed when she tried to jerk away.

“You stabbed me,” she said, too dazed to feel more than the wetness soaking into her dress.

“It’s just a little nick. I swear to God I’ll shove this knife in you, Jessi, right to the hilt next time. I know where all the exits are, and I can be gone before they finish dialing 911. Give me any trouble and you’ll never see Benji again. Behave yourself and we’ll have a nice little family reunion.”

Her mind was reeling, but Jessi forced herself to think, to relax, to ignore the pain and the blood she felt welling from her side. To stay alive. “What is this about?”

“My ship coming in.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course not,” he said with a chuckle. “You just leave everything up to me, and I’ll take care of it.” He walked by the bank of elevators, kept going to a side door that led to a courtyard. Beyond that was a parking structure, where he let her walk in front of him. Even if she could have run, hampered by her skirts and the stupid mile-high heels she’d insisted on wearing, Lance didn’t let her get far enough ahead of him to make it a possibility.

He shoved her against the passenger side of a nondescript sedan and jerked her wrists together, putting a zip tie around each wrist, then connecting them with one in the middle because they were just garbage bag ties. They did the job, though, and she had to force herself not to strain against them. She’d only end up hurting herself.

Lance shoved her in the front passenger seat. She scrambled for the lock button, not thinking clearly enough to realize it would do her no good when he had the keys.

“Christ,” Lance said when he slid into the driver’s seat, “if you’d just relax this will be a lot easier on both of us.”

“Both of us? Did you get stabbed, too?”

Lance reached over, buried his hand in her hair, and yanked. She wrapped her bound hands around his wrist, but he only fisted his hand tighter, until her scalp felt like it was on fire and tears streamed down her face. And she realized just how close to the edge he was.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, wanting to keep him calm.

“That’s better.” He let her go with a shove that bounced her head against the window.

She mopped at her cheeks, if only because the tears made her feel more panicked, more hopeless. “This isn’t you, Lance.”

He snorted out a laugh as he started the car.

“The boy I knew would never hurt me like this.”

“Yeah, well, I had to grow up, didn’t I? Thanks to you.”

Grow up? He sounded like the spoiled kid he’d always been, only more bitter now.

“I couldn’t stay on the island, could I?” he rambled. “Not with all those people expecting me to marry you. You and that kid—just millstones, that’s all you’d’ve been.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Benji is the best thing that ever happened to me, but you don’t have to worry about him, or me. We won’t bother you.”

“Bother me? Bother me.” He laughed and backed out of the parking space, still mumbling.

She heard Benji’s name and a light went on in her head. Family reunion, he’d said. Everything inside her went cold, achingly cold, then hot. She’d die before she let him get his hands on her son.

“Benji is innocent in all this,” she said, shaking this time with the effort of keeping her voice reasonable. “Please don’t hurt him.”

“Hurt him?” He laughed again. “Benji’s my ticket to that ship I was telling you about. I won’t lay a finger on the kid. You, on the other hand, are too stupid to see the potential.”

“Why don’t you explain it to me?”

He glanced over at her, shrugged. “Ever heard of Clayton Stanhope?”

The world dropped out from under her. “Did he send you after me?”

“Why would he send me after you? He doesn’t do his own dirty work.”

“Then who—”

“As soon as I found out about the search for Stanhope descendants, I knew I had to return to Windfall. I mean, it was like destiny, right? No one, including you, would wonder why I came back to the island.”

Lance was talking with his hands, the ten-inch blade he’d apparently forgotten waving dangerously close to her face. Jessi jammed herself into the corner of the seat, as close to the door as she could get.

“What were you supposed to do?”

“Get in good with you. See where the genealogy was pointing. But he wouldn’t tell me why.” He was rambling now, and while Jessi wanted to ask him who “he” was, she figured it was best to let Lance talk. “I was just supposed to pass the info on to him and wait for further instructions. While we were meeting, he got called away and left me alone in his office.”

“You snooped.”

Lance snorted. “Who wouldn’t?”

A lot of people, Jessi could have said. But then Lance had shown his true colors the day he walked away from her and their unborn child.

“He was only gone a couple minutes,” Lance continued, “but it was enough. I saw Eugenia’s name. I saw they were searching for her. Of course I knew about the kidnapping. Who doesn’t, coming from Windfall? I got to thinking, what if she hadn’t died? Eugenia, I mean? What if she wound up on the island? What if some family took her in, and she got married, had kids, grandkids? Those grands’d be about your age now. Made me wonder about you. And my son.”

“Your meal ticket,” she said, having no trouble putting it together now.

“And why not? What’ll old Clayton be willing to pay to keep any heirs from showing up to take a bite of his pie?”

“He’s willing to kill.”

“I figured as much.”

“You—” She had to stop, swallow the bile in the back of her throat. “You’re no killer, Lance.”

“Anyone can be bought for the right amount of money. But you’re right, Jess. I’d rather not hurt anyone. And I don’t have to. All I have to do is convince him you may be Eugenia’s granddaughter. Won’t even be that hard. Not when I have the blanket.”

And her hopes dropped even further. But she had to try. “What blanket?”

“The one you tried so hard not to look like you were hiding that day in the attic. The one I broke into your house to see.”

“Meeker covered for you?” she said. “My DNA—”

“Won’t matter one bit as long as the Stanhopes don’t get their hands on it.”

Jessi snapped her mouth shut and sat back, realizing just how monumental a mistake she’d almost made. Telling him the DNA was at the lab already might be as good as signing her death warrant. If she didn’t match, all Lance’s plans would be sunk. He’d have no reason to keep her around. Or Benji.

“I’ll start small,” he was saying, almost to himself, “just a million or two. The Stanhopes make that much in interest every day. They can spare it without blinking an eye. We’ll live high, Jess, you and me and Benji.”

“And when it’s gone?”

“We won’t be signing away the rights to any future kids, right? It’s a well I can tap forever.”

Over her dead body, Jessi thought, shuddering at the thought of Lance’s hands on her. But at least he wanted to keep her alive. “Fine,” she said. “If you want me to be your brood mare—or maybe cash cow would be a better description—I’ll cooperate. But I won’t give you Benji.”

“They’ll kill him, Jess. That’s the idea, get rid of any possible descendants. He’ll only be safe with us. I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he continued when she didn’t speak, “but just forget about it. I won’t let you screw this up, too.”

“I won’t cooperate, Lance, and you’ll never get your hands on Benji.”

“No. You will.”

“I won’t tell you where he is.”

“You think I’m too stupid to figure that out?” He snorted. “It took me about five seconds to find out Keegan used to be a Boston cop. His old man still is. Where else would you leave the kid?”

“Jessi probably went up to the suite,” Dex said. “Alec is keeping tabs on Clay, Sr., and there goes Chip,” he finished when Clay’s son eased out of the ballroom. “I have to go after him.” He took off, leaving Maggie and Hold staring at one another.