Page 42 of Wayward (Wrecked #4)

Fog Horn

Easton

H ank asks most of the questions I would expect, like how did we pass the time? Dante handles that one with ease.

When the blaring production lights flick off, I blink into the darkened suite.

“Hope that helps, Rocky. I expect you to give me the real scoop when all of whatever is going down finally clears.” Hank waves his hand around the room like we’re all some sort of dog shit.

“I will keep that in mind. I’ll have Mike be in touch with . . .” Rocky trails off while shaking Hank’s hand.

“I’ve got your assistant’s contact info.” Mike nods at Hank. “We’ve arranged a limo for you to the airport.”

“Wonderful.” Hank spins on his heel. “Which way out? Ah, this way.” He heads for a double door closet.

“This way.” Mike takes his arm and walks him out of the room with a security guard.

“Don’t worry about the furniture. We’ll move it back,” Calvin says to the producer. The rest of the camera crew vanishes within minutes, and then it’s just Dad and the six of us.

“I’m not sure that went how we wanted it to.” I cross over next to my dad. “It’s proof that we’re alive, and that’s a start. It should put Ed on a new warpath.”

There’s a click at the main door. Mike’s back.

“I’ve got your legal team back. They’ll be on a call in ten.

Their first look says there’s not enough evidence to have Susan arrested yet.

But they suggest—” There’s another click at the door behind him, but it doesn’t open. It’s followed by a knock and a pound.

“Don’t stand there. Open the door.” I’d know the voice on the other side of the door anywhere. My stepmother was never a quiet, wait-around kind of gal.

I’m not ready to see her. The woman I trusted for so much of my life, even begrudgingly, but I did. Her and dad cheered me on from the stands. Though Susan was more likely to come to my televised meets than the general ones.

“You want me to let her in?” Mike asks Dad.

“Let her in. There’s a few things I want to say to her,” Dante says.

Mike doesn’t stop looking at dad, though.

“That’s up to all of you. Sam, Calvin, Zane, do you want to meet her here or in a courtroom first?” my dad growls.

“Haley has a say,” I correct.

“What would the lawyers say?” Haley asks Mike. She moves between him and Sam to take my hand.

“Open the damn door, Rocky.” Susan pounds. “I can hear you in there.”

“That talking to her without council could cause?—”

“I fucking hate lawyers.” Dad interrupts Mike and pulls the door open. “Get in here and sit your ass on that sofa.”

My former stepmother has changed quite a bit. Her platinum blonde hair is now a shiny silver. She’s lost a hundred pounds. She’s always worn business suits, but the one on her now is designer and new compared to the ones from the nineties she wore when she was married to Dad.

“Easton. You’re not dead!” She opens her arms and comes at me. It’s the way she says it. There’s a fake surprise in her voice. My eyes flick over to the security guard behind her. He’s one of ours from the Miami office. And I hope to hell he heard the tone she said it in.

I hold my arm out straight, stopping her from reaching me, and she runs into my hand. “No, sit down.”

“When did you get back? I can’t believe you’re here. What’s all this?” She motions to the furniture moved about. “Media? And you didn’t wake me up? Rocky,” she says in a scolding tone.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work.” Dante loops his arm over Calvin’s shoulders. I’d been busy taking in Susan. I didn’t notice his furrowed brow or clenched fists.

I nod down at Haley. She gives my hand a squeeze and moves over next to Calvin. Good. The last thing I want is for Haley to have to visit Calvin in jail for manslaughter.

There’s a boiling hate taking over me. I bottle it down. I need justice for Haley, for the guys. They’ve all suffered enough over the last year.

“Sit, Susan,” I say.

“I liked it when you called me Mom.” She smiles, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

I hold her gaze. She doesn’t deserve an answer.

Doesn’t deserve anything but a cold jail cell.

I wiggle my fingers. The feeling of Haley’s touch lingers.

I thrust my hand in my pocket, and the damn diamond’s there.

I pull it out and put it on the coffee table.

If she wanted me dead for the company, then she sure as hell had to have been damn mad about the diamond.

Baiting her—it’s foolish of me, but I want her to know all the things she doesn’t have: Rockwell Tire, the Pink Phoenix, and soon anything to do with my family—especially my dad.

She never wanted a divorce. Maybe her civility during their split boiled over inside of her.

She wanted what she could no longer have.

Finding another way to have it, killing me.

..She’s crazy, that’s for sure. And having the Pink Phoenix out on the table?

I’m poking the bear, seeing that Candy’s the one who made Dad buy it.

But there’s a tingling telling me Susan will be just as interested.

“What’s that?” She leans forward.

But Zane’s there. “We look with our eyes, not our hands.” He’s sitting on the sofa’s arm.

“You know what that is,” Sam says, his tone gruff.

Susan purses her lips and leans back on the sofa, her arms crossed over her chest like a scolded toddler.

Behind me, Mike had vanished, but he’s back, this time with a laptop in his hand.

“Who’s that?” Susan points at Mike. “Legal?”

“Susan Blanche. This meeting is being taped,” Benson Walsh, a senior member of Rockwell-Harding’s legal team, says from the laptop screen. Benson’s voice boomed from my dad’s home office on conference calls long before video calls or cell phones.

“That’s not necessary, Benson.” She clasps her hands in her lap.

“You know it is,” I say.

“What do you know about the operations of James Zambrano, AKA Ed and Mr. Z?” Benson asks.

“You mean the dad of Emily’s high school ex?

He has a nice house in Switzerland. We had a lovely dinner with him, didn’t we, Rocky?

” Susan cocks her head. She’s not dumb. I’ve never thought of her as dumb.

Calculating? Hell yes. But dumb, no. She’s not going to answer anything.

And she’s definitely not going to answer anything without her lawyer present.

“What else do you know about him?”

“This is feeling like an inquiry, Benson. Is this an inquiry? Because I think I want my lawyer present if it is. Is Abigail around?”

“Ms. Stewart will no longer be able to represent you due to a conflict of interest in the firm,” Benson says.

“We’ll see about that.” Susan smiles like she’s not batshit crazy.

“Is there anything else you’ll be needing?

” She slaps her hands on her legs and stands.

“Because you’ll not be getting it from me.

If you’re worried about Ed, you can ask him yourself.

I’m sure you’ll find him more than willing to cooperate.

He loves lawyers.” She giggles. Honest to goodness giggles.

Haley drops her hand from Calvin’s shoulder, and he steps closer to the sofa.

“Really, Winston, it’s not like you to result to brute force. You must be slipping, dear.” Susan turns, and I don’t know who wants to kill her more: Calvin, myself, or my dad. No one pulls out Dad’s given name. I’m not sure I’ve heard anyone use it in years.

She stumbles next to the sofa but quickly rights herself. “I’ll be checking out of the hotel. No worries. I’ll find my own way home.”

Dad stands. “Obviously, you’re fired.”

She smirks back at my dad. “You can’t fire an owner of the company, darling.” Her designer suit pants swish when she walks out the door. The guard looks at Rocky.

That’s not true. Her seat on the board will be gone as soon as we can call a meeting.

“Make sure she leaves the suite without stealing the bedsheets and the whole mini bar,” my dad growls.

We’re all standing staring at the door when Mike circles around the room with five members of Legal on the video call.

“We’ll sign off now, Rocky,” Benson says.

“We’ve got a full team on it. Our lead investigator will be calling you first thing in the morning.

Mike sent a prospectus with the information he’s gathered.

Obviously, we’ll want to interview each of you as soon as you get back to the States.

That being said, get back here as soon as possible.

I want this to go through our courts. Not that I don’t think the London team could handle it.

But the Zambranos have a home field advantage if we leave it in the UK. I’ll talk with you soon.”

“Thank you, Benson, I hope we didn’t wake you.” Rocky nods at the computer screen.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Benson ends the meeting.

Mike closes the computer. He nods at Dad. “That went better than I expected. The interview with Hank was a little rough, but you guys did a good job.” Mike puts the computer down on the dining room table. “What do you want to do for lunch, Rocky? Do you want me to order in?”

Dad nods, and the two of them leave the room for the side room where Mike and another member of his team have an office set up. When the door clicks shut, I feel the collective sigh of relief from everyone that it’s the six of us alone again.

“Dante, you did an especially good job handling Goodstone.” Sam nods at Dante. “Nice recovery when he went on the prowl about how we spent our nights.”

Haley paces on one side of the room, and I cross the room to be with her. “Hey.” I pull her in for a hug.

“Well, old Hank needed to mind his damn business, and well, lying to people full of shit comes easy to me. Don’t forget I went to an all-boys Catholic high school.

And then there’s my uncle. I got lots of practice lying to that piece of shit.

” Dante plops onto the sofa and pats the cushion next to him.

When Haley doesn’t sit down, he jumps up and pulls her to him—and I follow.

“I hope you didn’t mind my little white lie, Sassy.

You know how I feel. And the world is full of assholes who won’t understand how things work for us. ”

Haley loops her arms around Dante’s neck. “No, I get it. I was tired of him putting me on the spot. I thought he might come right out and ask me about my sex life.”

“The media here is a different beast.” Zane sits on the coffee table.

“Wait, what the bugger? Did you take the diamond?” Zane’s eyes go wide, and he stands.

The table’s empty. “Fucking twat took it.” Zane rushes for the door.

But I beat him to it. The guard that followed Susan into the room is gone.

“You’re telling me that a sixty-eight-year-old woman gave seasoned security agents the slip?

” I’m holding Dad’s phone because he’s too angry to speak.

“Find her. She didn’t have this planned.

Follow her finances; you’ll find her. And make sure you coordinate with Benson Walsh’s teams, both in London and New York.

” I turn the phone off and hand it back to my dad. He’s pinching the side of his head.

“We’ll find her,” Mike says.

“Mike, do you mind giving me some time with my dad alone?”

“Not at all, Easton.” Mike and his assistant step out into the main part of the suite.

“I don’t care about the diamond. I have you back. If she wants the diamond, she can have it. She can have Rockwell Tire as far as I’m concerned.” Dad tilts his head up to mine. His eyes are full of tears. “I’ve made some horrible choices. And you and your sister have paid for my faults.”

“No, Dad. You were set on a course by a sociopath. She manipulated you.”

“Susan?”

“Hell yes, Dad, Susan.”

“A sociopath?” Dad sits on the tufted stool that Mike had pulled up to the makeup table to use as a desk. “She wants power, but that’s not saying she’s a?—”

“She got in deep with Zambrano, dragging both of your companies and you with her. And when you suspected something was up and divorced her, she tried to kill me. It’s not the first time, either.” Fuck, it slipped out. I had no intention of confronting Dad with the accusation that Susan . . .

“First time?” He tilts his head at me.

“Were you having an affair with Susan when Mom died?”

“No.” He over-squares his shoulders. It’s his tell.

I widen my eyes at him.

“I never touched Susan when your mother was alive.”

“But you spent more time with her than Mom, right?”

“She was my assistant, and I was growing the business. Of course I spent more time with her than your mother. She never wanted to go anywhere.”

“Because . . .” I wait for my dad to fill it in.

“She was raising you and Emily. Yes, yes, but I didn’t touch Susan.”

“Who found Mom?”

“Susan, but that doesn’t mean . . .” Dad looks over my head, and his mouth goes slack.

There’s a hole in my chest. I’ve already processed the idea. But watching Dad do the same thing? That’s a whole different level of hurt.

“She didn’t want me to read the note.” Dad grips the side of his face.

“Note?” Because that’s the first time I’ve heard mention of a suicide note.

“Susan. She read it for me.”

“And what did she do with it?”

“She kept it. Said I could read it later. But anytime I asked over the years, she said it would send me into a spiraling depression. And I fucking believed her.”

“It’s not your fault, Dad. There’s no way we’ll ever know.

” My stomach clenches, but I mean it. I’m not going to hold him responsible for my mother’s death.

The evidence is long gone—or maybe it isn’t.

That’s a good use of Dad’s money. I pull him into my chest in a tight hug.

The same kind he used to give me as a child.