RISE - Part Three (The RISE Series Book 3) (7 page)

"You're curious. You have questions that only I can answer."

The fact that he's right doesn't stifle my desire to reach over the table to slap him. I'm not violent. I don't ever feel that type of rage burning within me, but the unyielding yearning to be the source of even a brief flash of his pain is overwhelming.

"Does she want to talk about her father," his voice trails as he upturns his palms in the air and holds them level. "Or does Ms. Marlow want to talk about my son first?"

I watch in silence as he moves first his right hand and then the left as if he's balancing a weight in mid-air.

"If you're not going to choose, I'll do it for you." He claps his hands together so loudly that a guard takes two heavy steps towards the table before he realizes the source of the noise.

I lean back in the uncomfortable chair I'm sitting in. "I want to know about my dad."

"Otis Marlow, the inept insurance representative who mistakenly thought a woman like Lydia Keeley could love him. Let's begin there."

***

A
s he told me about his relationship with Lydia, there were brief flashes of compassion in his tone. They had met while in line at a grocery store. He had been taken by the color of her eyes and the way she looked at him.

Their affair had been passionate and reckless. In the beginning they had been mindful of being caught so they'd arrange to meet in hotels just outside the city. Things grew more brazen as their attraction increased and by the time they had plotted out a plan to be together, their trysts were taking place in his car or in a hidden alcove at his office.

She wanted him to leave his wife, and when he refused, Lydia hinted at an affair with another man. She spoke of his kindness and his incessant need to please her. She told Frederick that the man was willing to risk his own freedom to help her financially.

The draw towards the man was the easy money he could provide. Once she realized how simple her plan was to forge insurance documents using the names of deceased clients, she pulled more men into her web. The operation grew and as it did, Frederick joined her at the reins.

She cashed in dozens of the policies over a three month period before her disappearance. She'd covered her tracks well by using the men willing to do her biding for her. They set up bank accounts in other countries and used fake documents to create companies that never existed.

By the time she drove her car to the spot it was found, she had accumulated enough wealth to take care of Frederick and her forever. She'd hid in plain sight in a motel near Logan Airport. A quick change of hair color and a new identity was all she needed.

"Why didn't you just leave your wife?"

He looks down to examine the fingernails on his right hand. "Greed."

"Greed?" I parrot back. "In what sense?"

"The more you have, the more you want," he says the words without looking at me. "Before Lydia disappeared, she'd set up two life insurance policies for me, or I thought she had."

I can't contain the grin I feel pulling at the corners of my mouth." You thought she had?"

He nods slowly. "By the time I'd worked my way back to the hotel after the boating accident, Lydia was gone. All that was left was a suitcase filled with documents. I never saw her again."

––––––––

I
take a small sip of water from a plastic cup I'd filled at a fountain in the corner of the visitor hall. I'd told Frederick that I had to stretch my legs. I actually just needed a few minutes to process everything he's told me.

"I saw you on that flight from Milan." He taps his fingers against the table. "I saw my son stop in the terminal to look at you."

I wasn't sure if he'd remember me. I highly doubted it based on the fact that I couldn't remember any faces from that day other than Landon's and Gianna's. If Frederick would have stood in front of me I doubt I would have given him a second glance.

His eyes don't hold the same quiet calmness that my father's do. His expression is empty. It's different than what I remember from the photographs in Landon's apartment. The carefree happiness that was present in his face in those pictures isn't there now.

"I don't remember seeing you," I say honestly. "You were on that flight because you knew your son was the pilot?"

"It was the seventh flight this year that I've taken with my son at the controls."

I'm surprised. I'm so surprised that my mouth falls open. "Seventh?"

"I was on four last year, three the year prior."

"He never noticed you?" I ask because I'm shocked based on what Landon told me about searching crowds for his father's face.

"I stayed out of view for the most part." He scratches the wrinkled skin near the corner of his left eye. "I didn't want to risk the consequences of him seeing me."

He wasn't ready to be caught yet.

"What changed?" I bring the plastic cup to my mouth to finish the rest of the water. "Why did you step into full view now?"

He bites the corner of his lip. I can't tell whether it's to quell his emotions or not. "I saw something horrific a few months ago. It was when I was watching my other son."

"Dane? You were watching him?"

"He's a fireman." His shoulders push forward as a smile flashes across his lips. "His Engine Company is number thirty-four."

The words, along with the knowledge they contain, feels misplaced. This is a man who willingly hid from the lives of his children for close to fifteen years. The fact that he casually points out what his son does for a living, including details about which fire station he works out of, makes me uncomfortable.

"He was called out to a building when some utility workers became trapped in the basement. I was there, standing in the crowd when I saw him running across the street."

I lean back in the chair as I listen to him. I've seen Dane recently. He looked fine. Whatever Frederick saw was obviously life altering if it pushed him to reveal himself to Landon.

"What happened?"

"A young woman was hit by a police car."

"What?" My hands leap to my chest. "That artist? Are you talking about when that artist got hit?"

It had been the headline in every local paper the next morning. I hadn't taken the time to read through the article because the picture that accompanied the story said it all. A petite blonde woman was sprawled across the hood of a police car, her hair covered with blood. I remember clearly that a fireman was on the hood of the car with her, his gloved hands holding her head in place.

"That woman is having my first grandchild. That was Bridget. She's going to marry my son."

***

"W
ill you ask Landon to come see me?"

His demeanor may have changed since he first sat down across the table from me, but his past can't be erased with some confessions about how much he misses his children.

He'd literally been stalking the two of them for years. He can't expect to find forgiveness because he wants to play a role in his grandchild's life. Dane doesn’t strike me as the type of man who will push everything that's happened aside just so his child can know a grandfather who didn't care enough about his own sons to choose them over a woman.

"I'm planning on telling Landon about our meeting," I say quietly. "I don't think he'll want to come and see you."

He nods in resignation. His chin bowing with the realization that there's little he can do now to erase his past.

"I gave the police those documents because I thought it would help my own case."

There's no shame in that. I would have done the same. I imagine most people would grasp onto any hope when they're faced with a prison term.

"What's going to happen to you now?" I motion towards a table near us where three men are visiting their families. "Will you be serving your sentence here?"

He looks up and across the table at me. "That was part of my plea deal. I want to be here, close to my family."

I'm not surprised. I imagine he's going to continue to try and forge a relationship with both of his sons. I doubt either will ever step foot in this place.

"I took a sentence of ten years." He glances quickly around the room. "I stole the identities of three men to survive financially. There was identity fraud too. I worked briefly for an investment company in Maine."

It's more than I wanted to know.

"I did it for my boys," he says the words as proudly as any father would, who worked hard his entire life to provide for his children. "I did it so I could watch them grow up."

The words are vile. They mirror the things that my own father might say when asked about why he worked so hard selling insurance, even after he knew he'd broken the law.

"All your boys wanted was you," I point out as I push my hands on the edge of the table so I can finally stand. "That day in the boat with Landon changed him forever."

"He loves me," he says quietly, his bottom lip trembling. "My son held onto me for hours after I tipped the boat. He didn't want to let me go. That shows how much he loved me."

I pull myself to my feet, smoothing my hands over the legs of my jeans. "He loved you. Your son loved you once. You lost that when you left him in that water so you could save yourself."

––––––––

"Y
our dad and Gianna?" Landon rakes his hands through his hair. "They had a thing?"

I nod as I reach for his hand. "I spoke to Gianna about it two days ago. She told me that they still see each other, but anything romantic between them faded away a long time ago."

"That's wild." He furrows his brow as he studies my face. "How long did that go on for? The meeting in hotel rooms?"

"On and off for years." I half-shrug my shoulder as I lean against him. I've been sitting here since I arrived at his apartment. He'd called me once he landed and I agreed to meet him right away. "She said they both needed something then and found it in each other. She apologized. She felt badly that she hadn't told me sooner."

She had felt horribly about it she said when I met her for dinner after I saw Frederick. I had wanted to postpone my meeting with her because I felt so emotionally raw already, but she was insistent. I sensed that she could tell that I knew about her relationship with my dad.

They had met at a business dinner before I was even born. The company my father worked for hosted a large dinner for their corporate clients. Gianna was there alone because her husband at the time was so immersed in his work that he rarely left the office.

They had laughed over dinner when my father told her insurance jokes. They weren't funny she admitted but the smile on his face was irresistible.

Over drinks the next week they shared stories about their children and within days they had agreed to meet at a hotel. It was something she needed and he did too. They had wept together after the first time, both filled with guilt about their families.

"They became friends, or at least Gianna wanted them to be friends."

"What do you mean?" He pushes a wayward strand of hair from my face. "She wanted to be friends before or after they slept together?"

I push through the words, not wanting to dwell on them. "They fell into an awkward friendship when they first stopped meeting in hotels and it didn't work. They lost touch for a long time."

"Are they in touch now?" His eyebrows dance playfully.

I nod faintly. "She introduced herself on the flight from Milan, so I did the same. She asked where I grew up and what my parents did. I thought, at the time, that she was just an overly friendly person so I answered it all."

"She knew then, didn't she? She knew you were the daughter of her old lover?"

"I don't know how I didn't put two-and –two together that day." I run my fingertips along his forearm. "She got a little emotional when I told her my parents had divorced and my dad was living in California. She said she looked him up right after that."

"What's going on between them now?" His lips dip to graze over my neck. "Have they reconnected?"

"She's seen him a few times since the flight." I reach to pull his arms around me. "I didn’t ask for details. My father's life is his own."

I feel the gentle movement of his head against mine. "My father's life is his own too. I hope he spends the rest of it in hell."

––––––––

"N
o one asked you to go see him, Tess." He's on his feet now. "You had no business going there."

The words, although not unexpected, still sting. I wasn't sure how he would react once I told him I had gone to see his father. "I went because of my father. I went because of you too but I had questions about my dad."

His expression softens but his stance doesn't. His arms are crossed over his chest. "I know that your dad's situation has been hard for you but he's been released. He's gone back to his life."

He has. I spoke to my father yesterday and for the most part, he's picking up the pieces of his life again. Some of the friends he made in California after his move there, have stopped returning his calls and he's facing a large legal bill, but other than that, I could hear the joy in his voice.

I'll be visiting him in soon when I fly there with Landon. That is, if Landon and I can get past my latest confession.

"I had to know about the connection between Frederick and my father." I wring my hands together on my lap. "There were so many things that just didn't make sense to me."

"What doesn't make sense to me is why you went there without telling me." He stomps his shoe against the hardwood floor. "I would never have gone to talk to your dad when he was being held in custody without running it by you first."

I have no doubt about that. I've seen the honest parts of Landon. I don't think he's ever held anything back from me and that's been a true gift. I didn't think I could care about a man again after my relationship with Ansel ended, but Landon has opened himself up to me in such a way that I trust each and everything about him. I realize now that I may have risked all of that to get answers to questions that weren't mine to ask in the first place.