Sweet Talk (Buchanan-Renard #10)

Sweet Talk (Buchanan-Renard #10) Page 15

“He was CEO of these companies?”

“Yes. It was all legal,” she said.

“Now he runs his own investment firm?”

“That’s right, the Trinity Fund, and it’s quite successful. On paper anyway. Olivia knows several people who have given her father their retirement funds to invest. They all get quarterly statements showing how well their investments are doing. She’s seen how her father works, and she’s convinced this is just another one of his scams.”

“She thinks he’s running a Ponzi scheme?”

“If he is, she hasn’t been able to prove it. Shall we head back upstairs? I’d like to say good-bye to Olivia and find out if she needs me to bring her anything.”

Grayson walked by Emma’s side to the elevator. He was lost in thought. “What do you think of Robert MacKenzie?”

“I agree with Olivia. He should be in prison.”

The number of people on Olivia’s enemy list made sense now. She’d been asking questions and probing, bringing attention to her father’s firm. She probably had already gone to the SEC, and the men raking in the money wouldn’t like that one little bit.

A woman in a wheelchair was coming out of Olivia’s room when they arrived. A slender young man was pushing the chair. Emma introduced Olivia’s friend Jane and her brother, Logan, to Grayson.

Logan extended his hand and said, “You’re gonna catch this guy, right?”

“Yes,” Grayson assured him.

“When are you going home, Jane?” Emma asked.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll come back in a month or so when Olivia’s strength is back.”

“Olivia is giving Jane some of her blood,” Logan explained. “It’s got antibodies she needs. Right, Jane?”

“Yes,” she said. “Olivia’s worn-out, so I wouldn’t stay long. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Logan has a meeting to attend.”

“And you need rest,” he told Jane.

Emma and Grayson watched until they turned the corner. Then Emma said, “Jane doesn’t look at all well, does she? She’s so pale.”

Grayson thought Jane’s brother looked just as sickly. When Emma went on into Olivia’s room, he stopped to go over the schedule with the agent on duty tonight. After that, he called Ronan to talk about Robert MacKenzie’s investment firm and found out that Ronan had already dug into Olivia’s family and had come up with all sorts of possibilities for those relatives who might want Olivia out of the way. He wondered if Olivia knew that her brother-in-law, George, had a gambling problem and had recently taken out another mortgage on his home to pay some of his debts.

By the time Grayson ended his conversation with Ronan, Emma had left and Olivia was alone. He checked his watch as he entered her room. He needed to head home soon. Now that his nephew was living with him, he tried to eat dinner with him as often as possible to give him some kind of stable home life.

Olivia was fighting sleep. The television was on, and she was trying to watch the news. Her eyelids kept closing on her. She saw Grayson and asked, “Why are you here? I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Were you assigned to this investigation?”

“No,” he answered. “I asked for it.”

The pain medication was kicking in, and she was feeling a bit loopy. “Because of Jorguson.”

“No, because of you.”

She frowned. “Let’s get something straight.”

“All right,” he agreed. “What?”

She looked at him. “What?”

“You wanted to get something straight.”

She remembered. “You better understand, Grayson. I’m never going to ask you to kiss me again.”

He smiled. “You won’t need to.”

His cell phone rang, interrupting the moment, which was a good thing, he thought, because he was seriously thinking about kissing her. He knew that he wouldn’t give in to the urge, but he didn’t like the fact that he wanted her.

His nephew was calling to remind him that he had to build a solar system and that Grayson had promised to help.

“What solar system?”

“The solar system,” Henry stressed.

“This is the first I’m hearing about this, Henry.”

“I was sure I told you, and I thought you said you would help me.”

“When is it due?” he asked, thinking that he would make time this weekend to help him.

“Tomorrow.”

Ah, come on. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes, and we need stuff.”

“What stuff?” Grayson wondered.

“Stuff to make it. Like Styrofoam and string maybe.”

Grayson noticed that Olivia’s head was back on her pillow and her eyelids were at half-mast, but she was smiling. She obviously thought the conversation was amusing. He didn’t. This parent “stuff” was a bitch.

“Okay. I’m on my way home.” He ended the call and said, “I guess you got all that.”

“How old is he?”

“He turned nine two weeks ago.”

“And you need to build a solar system?”

“Apparently so. I’ll be driving all over town looking for supplies. I better get going.”

“Good luck,” she whispered and fell sound asleep.

TWELVE

The night before Olivia was released from the hospital, her aunt Emma came to visit and insisted that Olivia move into her home to recuperate. Olivia refused. She told her aunt she wanted to sleep in her own bed and not be fussed over. In truth, she didn’t want to put Emma in any danger, and as long as the shooter was still out there, everyone around Olivia was at risk.

As Emma was leaving, Grayson and Ronan walked in. Emma smiled at the agents and said, “Grayson, in all this confusion I forgot to ask about your father. How is he doing?”

“Better,” he answered but didn’t expound.

Olivia was curious to know what had happened to his father but thought it would be intrusive to ask. She’d have to wait until she and Emma were alone to find out the details. Not that it was any of her business, she reminded herself. She had made up her mind to maintain a professional relationship with Grayson and not to ask any personal questions.

“Please give him my best,” Emma said. She turned to Olivia. “I’ll be here early tomorrow to drive you home.”

Grayson stepped forward. “I . . . we feel it would be best if I took Olivia home . . . for security reasons,” he said.

“All right,” Emma responded. She gave Olivia a kiss on the forehead and left.

Grayson had a list of questions he wanted to ask Olivia, particularly about her brother-in-law and the debt he had incurred. Did she know about it? Did her sister? From what he had discovered thus far, Olivia’s relationship with her family was strained at best. In the days she had been in the hospital, he hadn’t seen any member of Olivia’s immediate family come to visit.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to ask any of his questions. A constant stream of visitors, several phone calls, and her exhaustion overrode his agenda. He decided to wait until tomorrow to talk about her family.

The following morning, he drove her home from the hospital but didn’t bring up the obviously uncomfortable subject of her relatives. When Grayson announced that an off-duty policeman would be arriving soon to keep watch outside her door, she protested. As long as she stayed inside her apartment, she insisted, she was safe. Grayson listened to her argument and ignored it, stating emphatically that the guard was not negotiable.

They had just reached her apartment and Olivia was fishing through her purse for her key when a door at the end of the hall opened and an elderly woman wearing a pink chenille bathrobe stepped out. Her thin white hair was held away from her bony face by two bobby pins, and her lips were pursed to give a breathy whistle. When Olivia looked in her direction, the woman crooked her finger and motioned for her to come closer.

“Hello, Mrs. Delaney,” Olivia said as she approached the woman.

“Olivia, dear, I need milk.” As she spoke, Mrs. Delaney was peering around Olivia and looking suspiciously at Grayson.

“I’m sorry,” Olivia said, “I’m afraid I won’t be going to the store for a few days, but I’ll be happy to get you some milk when I shop again.”

Mrs. Delaney looked perturbed. “All right,” she said. “I’ll call down to John and have him bring me some when he comes to work tomorrow, but he always buys the wrong kind. I specifically ask for two percent, and he inevitably brings me whole milk. That’s just too rich for me. My nervous stomach won’t tolerate it.”

“I understand,” Olivia answered patiently. “I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m going to the supermarket, and you can give me a list.”

“Good,” Mrs. Delaney said and turned to go back into her apartment. “Get me some of those lemon cookies, the ones with the icing on top, not the plain ones like you got me last time.” Grayson and Olivia could hear her adding to her list even as she was closing the door.

“She doesn’t like to go out in the cold,” Olivia explained.

“Sounds like she’s rather particular.”

“A little,” Olivia laughed. “She’s all alone, and I don’t mind helping out when I can.”

Grayson took the key from Olivia’s hand and inserted it into the lock. “You may act tough, but you have a soft heart, Olivia MacKenzie.” He pushed the door open and stepped back so she could go inside.

Olivia was happy to be home. Her aunt had sent her staff over to clean the apartment, restock the refrigerator and pantry, and do Olivia’s laundry. There were fresh apples and oranges in a wooden bowl on the kitchen island, chicken noodle soup ready to be warmed up, and fresh baked bread.

“If you aren’t too tired, I’d like to talk to you about your family,” Grayson said.

“Okay, but I don’t know what I can tell you that would help.” She was emptying her purse looking for her cell phone. She finally found it and went into her office to plug it into her charger.

When she returned, Grayson had removed his suit jacket and was tugging at his tie. She noticed what he was doing but didn’t comment. If he wanted to get comfortable, that was fine with her. She would still be able to maintain her distance. He wasn’t a friend; he was her protector.

That reminder should have helped keep it all in perspective, but he looked great in a suit, and with the jacket off, he looked even better. She had forgotten what a muscular frame he had. Her side was throbbing, her shoulder stung, and her hip felt as though there was still a bullet inside the bone. She was a wreck, and yet she could still lust after him. She could have blamed her thoughts about ripping his clothes off on her pain medication, but she hadn’t taken any today.

“I’d like to discuss your brother-in-law,” he continued.

“George? There’s not much to say about him. I haven’t been with him all that much. I’ve usually just talked to him on the phone, and it’s always been superficial. You know, ‘How are you?’ . . . ‘Fine’ . . . ‘How are you?’ Then he’d hand the phone to my sister. George isn’t much of a talker. He’s a bit . . . stiff,” she said. “He makes Natalie happy, though.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Almost ten years. I met him several months after they were married.”

“You didn’t go to their wedding?”

“No, it was in San Francisco, and I was here in D.C. It wasn’t possible for me to leave.”

Olivia never talked about her illness, and he wondered if she knew that he had found out all about her time in the experimental program. According to her aunt, Olivia only discussed those years with her other family, the three girls who went through the program with her. He also knew that her surrogate father was Dr. Andre Pardieu.

He forced himself to finish his questions so she could rest. “Do you know anything about their financial situation?”

Olivia sat on the easy chair and put her head back on the cushions. “He and Natalie started an Internet company several years ago, and they’re doing very well. Natalie invested most of their profits with our father, God help her. I tried to talk to her, make her understand what a scam it all was, but she’s sipped the Kool-Aid and is a believer. Like my mother,” she added. “She likes to paint a picture of the perfect family. She thinks Natalie is the perfect daughter; George is the perfect son-in-law . . .”

“And you?”

She closed her eyes and smiled. “Imperfect,” she said very matter-of-factly. “So she usually doesn’t include me when she talks about her family. Natalie has become an only child. These days my mother considers me a traitor.”

“A traitor to the family?”

“Yes,” she answered. “And I guess I am. I have to stop him. He can’t go on ruining lives and destroying families. I used to think he couldn’t help himself, that it was all just a game to him, but now I know better. Money is everything to him. He’s obsessive about bringing in more and more. He lures his rich friends to give him their savings and their trusts to invest, and he also targets large pensions and charities.

“The more difficult the potential client, the more my father thrives. My aunt Emma won’t let him near her money, and it’s making him frantic. He hates losing, and he’s determined to find a way to force her to give him everything she has. It won’t happen, but he’ll go to prison still trying.”

Olivia struggled to get up. Surprised by how much that action drained her, she headed to her bedroom. “I’m going to change clothes,” she said. “Help yourself to something to eat and drink.”

“Want me to warm up some soup for you?”

“That would be nice.”

She walked down the hall but stopped at her bedroom door and looked back at him. “My mother idolizes my father, and she only has room in her heart for him. She can’t help the way she is. It’s like he has this mind control over her.”

“Does she know what he’s doing? Is she part of it?”

“No.” She was emphatic. “And if you showed her absolute proof, she wouldn’t believe it or see it. Honest to God, I think she’d throw anyone under the bus to protect him.”

“Including you?”

She didn’t answer. “I think, once my father is behind bars, my mother might open her eyes. Then again, she might not. She might want to crawl in the cell with him.”