Billionaire's Tragedy (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (24 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX

Olivia

By
five o'clock, I
was handing Lillian a copy of the story I intended to file for the next day's
paper. I'd been down to the police station and had them verify that the gun
used in the shooting was one that looked exactly like the gun Russo was holding
in the ’70s shot of the BAR protest. I wondered if it was the same gun
recovered after the murder of the three protestors, but since they had no
digital evidence of the crime, there would be no way to prove it.

The thing that I could
prove was that it was on the shooter when he'd been taken from the Capitol to
the hospital. There were no fingerprints on the gun because the shooter had
worn gloves, but one of the desk sergeants had said that there was some hope
that the fingerprints taken off the dead man would soon be matched up to some
records from Virginia.

I asked if I could see
the gun, and the evidence officer brought it out in the sealed plastic bag.

"Can you turn it
over so I can see if it's got a mark on it?" I asked.

He flipped the gun over
and sure enough, on the stock there was the familiar circle with a design
inside. Up close, I could see that the design was a replica of the original
stars and stripes. Thirteen stars and stripes inside a circle made by something
similar to a branding iron. I pulled out my phone and took a quick picture of
the stock so that I could match it to the photo on my computer.

I thanked the desk
sergeant and headed back to the paper. Once there, I ran my theory by Carl who
gave me a thumbs up and sent me on to Frank. It took Frank all of ten minutes
and a look at the photo to okay the story, and an hour later I was handing it
over to Lillian.

"You fact checked
this, did you?" she asked as I waited for her to read it.

"I did," I
nodded and handed her the photos I'd been working with.

"Okay, then, I guess
if Frank says it's okay, then
it's
okay," she
nodded and stamped the copy with her approval.

#

"
You
saved the story," I said when he answered his phone.

"Huh?"

"You saved the story
with your quick thinking and your information," I repeated. "It's
going to be in tomorrow morning's paper."

"Great, I'm glad it
worked out for you," he said glumly.

"What's wrong? I
thought you'd be happy about this," I said, feeling a little resentful of
the fact that he wasn't happier about the news.

"We're going to lose
the bill, Liv," he said. "I appreciate the effort, I really do, but
the bill's dead in the water."

"What does that mean
for you?" I asked afraid to hear the answer.

"It means that we've
lost the contract with the Chinese and the company goes bankrupt," he
said. Adding, "I don't care about losing the stuff, it's not that
important, but I do care about the fact that I've worked my entire adult life
to get this technology on the market and now some jerk with a substandard
design is going to win."

"He's not going to
win, Linc. My story will come out in the morning paper before the vote. Just
wait and see."

"Yeah, sure,"
he said as I tried to figure out a way to lift his spirits.

"Want to have
dinner?" I asked. "Netflix and chill?"

"Thanks for the
offer, Olivia, but I have other plans tonight," he said. "Maybe next
time."

"Yeah, sure, next
time," I said as I found myself wondering what was up with him. "Then
I'll meet you at the Capitol in the morning for the vote?"

"Sounds like a
plan," he said in a distracted voice. "I gotta go, Olivia. See you in
the morning."

"See you in the-"
I began and then the line went dead.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN

Linc

The
next morning's headline
in the
Sentinel
read, "President
of AWN Possible Link to Capitol Hill Shooter" with the picture of Russo,
Bangor, and who we now knew was Danford on the steps of the Virginia capitol
holding guns and declaring war against the United States government. The
article didn't go so far as to say that Russo was responsible for the senators'
deaths, but the implication was that his connection to Danford was damning
enough. Overnight, the fingerprints had arrived from Virginia and had
identified Beau Danford as the shooter and connected the gun to the BAR.

Russo was waiting in the
lobby of the Capitol when I walked in with Brant and Mo. He shot me a murderous
look as we took our seats and waited for the vote to take place. A few minutes
later, Olivia came rushing in dressed in her usual army coat over jeans with her
red hair flying. I tried to hold back and maintain a slight distance, but she
grabbed my hand and squeezed it as she whispered, "This calls for a
celebration, Redding, don't you think?"

"Don't count our
chickens before they're hatched, Moore," I replied as I squeezed her hand.

"What could possibly
go wrong?" she grinned.

"Shut your mouth,
please," I smiled back.

"If you two are done
with your morning love chatter, we could use a little round table here,"
Brant said. Olivia blushed as Mo elbowed him and he looked at her and smiled
before he turned back to us. "We've got almost enough votes thanks to Ms. Warren
and her very persuasive phone calls last night."

"Mo? What did you
tell these people?" I asked.

"I just told them
that I have more money than God, and that they should stay on my good
side," she grinned.

"You did not!"
Olivia whispered in mock horror.

"No, I did
not," Mo nodded. "But I did explain the importance of them being on
the right side of history when this vote came down."

"That's all it
took?" I asked.

"Well, that at
threatening to take them off the list for next year's Gala," she shrugged.
"I can't help it if I added a little bit of incentive."

I burst out laughing as
Russo shot us another dirty look from across the hall. I was only slightly
worried about him since there were so many people around, but I knew that he
was a man who held a grudge and that he wasn't likely to forget what I'd done
to him in the coffee shop any time soon.

After a few minutes,
Russo stood up and walked over to where I was standing. "I don't know
where you got your information from, Redding, but you and your little
girlfriend are going to pay for this."

"I'm not sure it's a
wise idea to be threatening me in front of witnesses," I said calmly.
"I would have thought you'd have learned your lesson by now, Russo."

"You won't win this
round," he hissed. "I've got the votes needed to sink this bill and
when it is voted down, I'll stand and watch you and your lousy business go down
in flames."

"I'm not sure I'd
bet on that, Russo." I smiled as I tried to hide the fact that I was
anxious about the fact that I had no idea how the vote would actually turn out.
Mo's incentives were only that, and the senators had not promised anything
concrete. We were still hanging in the balance and I knew that Russo wasn't
lying when he said he'd enjoy watching me be destroyed.

It took an hour to
complete the vote on HR 8212, and by the time the page came out to let us know
the results, we were all on the edge of our seats. When the announcement came,
I dropped my head in my hands and tried to breathe.

Brant, Mo, and Olivia
noisily discussed the results in the hallway until the senate officer stepped
outside and asked them to quiet down. I couldn't believe it. After all the work
and worry, this is where we ended up.

"What are you going
to do now, Redding?" Olivia asked as she looked up at me.

As I looked down at her,
I realized that everything I'd worked for was about to change, and I couldn't
imagine not including her in the new direction my life was about to take.

"I don't know. I
have no idea where this will take us," I said holding her gaze as I smiled
back at her. "But I couldn't have done it without you."

And with that, I reached
down and wrapped my arms around Olivia's waist and lifted her off the floor
before I kissed her. She hesitated for a moment and then kissed me back as I
raised a fist in a show of victory. Brant and Mo laughed loudly and the senate
officer, again, asked us to quiet down.

"You probably could
have," Olivia said once I'd set her down. Then she stood on her tiptoes
and kissed me. "But I was a tremendous asset."

"Indeed you are,
Olivia Moore," I said as I reached out and wrapped my arms around her so I
could pull her closer to me. She relaxed into my embrace as she rested her
palms on my chest and tipped her face up so I could kiss her again.

#

After
we'd celebrated the passage of the bill, Olivia took her leave and headed back
to the newsroom to report the good news while Brant, Mo, and I headed to the
nearest bar for a celebratory drink. There was something strange going on
between the two of them, but since they hadn't said anything or done anything
to clue me in, I'd ignored it.

Once we were seated at a
table and drinks had been ordered, Brant looked nervously at Mo and then back
at me. "Linc, there's something I want to tell you," he began.

"You're in love with
Mo and she's finally agreed to leave the gigolo behind and marry you?" I
deadpanned. Brant's face lost all color and he looked helplessly at Mo.

"That's close,"
she said as she raised an eyebrow. "But not exactly factual. First, he
wasn't a gigolo, he was a fine young man from Georgetown, and second, I don't
believe Brant as asked for my hand in marriage. Have you, darling?"

"Uh, no," he
shook his head and blushed a deep shade of red. "Not yet, anyway."

"There, now that's
all sorted out, shall we drink to celebrate the vote?" she asked as she
looked back and forth between the two of us.

"I want to ask about
a thousand questions, but I'm going to fall back on good manners and just say
congratulations to the both of you," I smiled. "I'm glad Pace finally
got his act together. It's about time."

"You're next, buddy."
Brant grinned as the server placed our drinks on the table. He raised his glass
and toasted, "To the future and all of its possibilities."

"To the
future," Mo and I chimed in. I raised my glass and hoped that where I was
headed next would be the right direction.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT

Olivia

I
returned to the
newsroom to celebrate the victory with Frank and Carl. They both cheered as I
told them about the outcome of the Senate vote and then filled me in on the
response from the article.

When it had appeared on
the front page above the fold that morning, calls started pouring in to the
paper from people who'd had run-ins with Davis Russo and the BAR during the ’70s.
There were tales of intimidation and threats to peoples' lives, homes, and
families, and each one of them recalled the trio of Russo, Bangor, and Danford
as being the instigators. The information we received was forwarded to the
police, and Frank told me that although most of the claims were outside of the
statute of limitations, there were a few that provided evidence against the
AWN.

"My buddy at the
station told me that if they can link the shooter to Russo in any way, they'll
move forward with accessory to murder charges," Frank said as he sipped
the shot of whiskey he'd poured to celebrate the victory.

"But we know Russo
did it!" I protested as I sipped from the plastic cup he'd handed me.

"We might be pretty
sure, but what did I tell you about facts, Moore?" Frank scolded.

"She's a little
loose on those, boss," Carl laughed. "But I think she's got some
excellent gut instincts that point her in the right direction."

"As long as we've
got Lillian double checking those instincts," Frank said giving me the
side eye.

"Aw, give me a
break, guys," I laughed. "I broke a major story and got us some much needed
attention!"

"About that..."
Frank said as he looked over the rim of his cup. My stomach lurched as he eyed
me without saying anything further. All of the memories of Africa and the mess
that had been swept under the carpet by simply dismissing me from my job came
flooding back. Was this going to be the same thing? Was another man in power
going to dismiss me after the information I'd brought to the table had been
used to promote his interests? I didn't want to believe that Frank was capable
of being as cold and calculating as the brutal editor in Nigeria, but I also
knew that the news business was cutthroat and that I had very little power.

"Uh huh?" I
mumbled as I turned toward my desk and pretended to search for something.

"Kid, you've done a
great job, and I like your tenacity," he said as he leaned over and patted
my shoulder. I could feel the “but” coming not far behind. "But I think
your talents are being wasted in the Features department, so I want to promote
you to the Political section and have you work with Carl on some of the tougher
stories. He's sick of being out in the field and you, well, you seem to have a
knack for being in the right place at the right time."

The grin on Carl's face
told me that he'd known this was coming, and I wanted to slug him for keeping
it from me. I turned and looked at Frank. He wore a lopsided grin that told me
he was enjoying this. I wanted to slug him, too, but since he was my boss, I
held back. I'd make them both pay for this later.

"Frank, I'd love to
sign on for this," I said as I took a deep breath. "But I'm not sure
that I'm going to be staying."

"Wait, what?"
he replied. The surprised look on his face made me cringe a little knowing that
he'd been certain I'd accept.

"I'm exploring my
options, and I'm not sure I'm going to be staying in D.C.," I repeated.

"But you're..."
Carl began and then trailed off.

"Just give me a day
or two to think about it, okay?" I asked.

Frank nodded, clearly
disappointed that I hadn't jumped at the offer. Carl sat staring at me with a
look of complete surprise, and I smiled at them both, "Look, I'm not
saying no, I'm just saying I need a few days to really consider what I want
before I say yes. Is that so bad?"

"No, that's fine,
Olivia," Frank said as he stood up and began walking toward his office.
Halfway there, he turned around to look at me and added, "Just let me know
when you've made up your mind."

"You'll be the first
to know," I nodded.

"I'd better be the
one before the first one," Carl muttered as he turned and began pounding
on his keyboard. My phone buzzed and I looked down to find a text message from
Linc asking me to meet him by the reflecting pool in twenty minutes.

"Chill out,
Jackson," I said quietly. "I just need time to think. And I need to
run an errand."

I grabbed my bag off of
my desk and pulled on my coat and headed out of the newsroom. I could feel
Carl's eyes on me the whole way to the door. I didn't turn around to check if
it was true, though.