Enemies and Playmates (13 page)

“I hate him, Jesse,” Lauren said. “I hate my father. He even had Stephen’s brand new Corvette crushed so there would be no questions about his car later. Every detail taken care of so that his reputation as the perfect man, perfect father, wouldn’t be tarnished.”

Lauren closed her eyes. She breathed in Jesse’s scent, felt the warmth of his body against hers. “You are making things better,” she said.

12

Dressed in a black tailored Prada skirt and matching jacket, and Manolo Blahnik high heels, Kara had the understated grace and elegance of a high-powered business woman or wealthy heiress. She could be running a business meeting or attending a black tie affair. Instead she was standing beside her son’s closed casket. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks as she ran her fingers over the three framed five-by-seven photos of Stephen.

Lauren stood a few feet away, marveling at how put together her mother appeared. At least at first glance. No one would see that she was crumbling inside.

This was not one of those times when Lauren took after her mother. She’d tangled with two pair of pantyhose that morning, tearing them both, before opting for the black slacks and gray sweater she now wore. Stephen certainly wouldn’t care what she wore.

People would be arriving for the wake in a few minutes. Lauren’s eyes fixed on the casket, her stomach roiling. The silence in the room gripped her like a bizarre magic spell. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She could only look in despair at the box that held what once had been her brother.

The mahogany casket, with its glossy polished finish and elaborate platinum handles, loomed large in the cavernous room. They’d run out of space for all the flowers. Sprays, crosses, hearts and wreaths made from roses, carnations, daisies and orchids. All showy and pretentious, just like her father.

A few minutes passed that way. Lauren and her mother alone with Stephen one last time. Then Alex strode into the room. He wore a black wool suit that Lauren couldn’t remember seeing before. His shirt was crisp white, probably some fancy imported cotton. His solid black tie was held in place by a gold tie clip. His black shoes had been freshly polished, though doubtfully by him. No dark circles beneath his eyes. Nothing to suggest he had any sort of emotional investment. He was orchestrating an event, not attending his own son’s wake.

Alex stepped behind Kara and put his hands on her shoulders. “People will be arriving soon,” he said.

Kara shrank from him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Spare me the attitude today.” Alex straightened his already straight tie. He said, “Remember, Stephen apparently fell asleep while driving. No drugs were involved. No alcohol. Just a horrible accident.”

Jesse arrived ten minutes later. Lauren immediately crumbled into his arms. The tears she’d been fighting came rushing out. She pressed her face against his black silk shirt, breathed in his scent. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

Lauren led Jesse to where her parents stood. Jesse took Kara’s hand, squeezing it lightly in his. “I’m so sorry about Stephen,” he said.

Before Alex had a chance to reply, Carrie and Gina walked in. They all hugged, tears mingled, soft words were exchanged. Soon the room filled to capacity. Hundreds of people came to offer their condolences. Lauren shook hands, kissed cheeks. Occasionally she would crumble into Jesse’s arms. He would lead her outside for a few minutes of fresh air and silence. Then she was back in the room with the casket and the flowers and the lies.

Kevin made a brief appearance. He stood at the casket, stiff in his jeans and sweater. Then he turned and met Lauren’s eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His eyes darted away. He wove through the crowd and quickly exited without a word.

Nine o’clock finally came. The room emptied. Lauren stood beside her brother’s casket. She brushed her fingers over the wood. A hollowness engulfed her.

Kara’s painful sobs echoed in the otherwise silent room. She knelt by the casket, mumbling apologies to Stephen. Alex stood beside her, his shoulders straight, his head slightly bowed. No tears fell.

Lauren fought another onslaught of tears as Jesse drove away. She didn’t think there could possibly be any tears left within her. Then she went back inside the funeral home to spend a few more minutes with Stephen.

Kara’s sobs were the only sound during the ride home. Once there, Lauren headed straight for her room. She was halfway up the stairs when her father’s voice bellowed after her. “Hold it!”

Lauren focused on her father, allowing her hatred to surface. “I’m dating Jesse,” she said. “And it’s too damn bad if you don’t like it.”

Alex took a step toward Lauren. His voice was filled with barely controlled rage. “He had better not show his face at the funeral.”

“Don’t touch her,” Kara said. She grabbed his arm, yanking him back. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Lauren’s boyfriend but I do know that at this time it does not matter.”

Alex jerked his arm from Kara’s grasp. “I’m warning you, Kara.”

“Isn’t it enough that we’ve lost one child?” Kara said. “Haven’t you learned -”

The stinging slap echoed through the hall. Kara stared at Alex a moment. Then she strode past him and took Lauren’s hand. “Let’s go upstairs,” she said.

Lauren caught a glimpse of her father before she turned. The rage was consuming him. She shivered. How much longer before the fury within him exploded?

***

Alex slammed the door so hard, the kitchen windows rattled. He climbed in his car, his mind racing, full of rage. His hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white with the force. He sped from his neighborhood, following random roads with no particular destination.

Of all times for Kara to attempt to exert herself! He had too many other things to be concerned with right now. Kara had been placid for years. Why now?

This had to be Lauren’s doing. He shook his head, muttering to himself. He should have seen this coming. Lauren was too independent. He’d let her be, thinking she knew enough to stay out of his business. Plus, he’d rather enjoyed her feistiness, a quality he’d sorely missed in his son. Allowing Lauren that extra room had been a big mistake on his behalf.

Now this. At the worst possible time. Lauren had to be encouraging Kara to speak up for herself. To think for herself. Stephen’s death had helped speed things along. Given them both an excuse. Bad timing. All of it.

Alex turned onto route three and slammed his foot on the gas. Even at ninety, the Mercedes handled smoothly. He leaned back, tried to relax and enjoy the drive. But his head swam with problems needing solutions. Getting Kara back in line shouldn’t be that difficult. He’d have to do it quickly. He couldn’t risk her screwing up and telling people about Stephen’s drug problem.

Lauren, on the other hand, wasn’t as easy to manipulate. He’d find a way, though. He always did.

As for Ryder, that man seemed to be at the root of all his problems. Ryder was the biggest mistake of his life. He normally read people so easily, knew how to get to them. Everyone had a price. Everyone could be bought. Until Ryder.

No one had ever refused him. Until Ryder.

He should have had Ryder eliminated as soon as he’d refused the work. But Alex had needed him. Needed his connections. Needed his talent.

Alex had thought he could persuade Ryder to join him. He’d never doubted his abilities before. And losing Martin had left him in a difficult position. Martin had been an extremely talented investigator. One who did whatever was needed, whenever it was needed, without question. Unfortunately, the man also had a passion for speed. He’d died more than a month ago while racing his Dodge Viper on I-95.

Replacing Martin had been his top priority. An immediate necessity. Alex had been sure he’d found his answer in Ryder. The man possessed all the vital qualities. Sadly, Ryder also held an unbreakable code of ethics, along with a fierce independence. No wonder he and Lauren got along so well.

Alex had to chuckle at that. Had Ryder cooperated, he and Lauren would have made a perfect couple. One that Alex would have fully accepted and encouraged. The possibilities would have been endless. Instead he’d have to put an end to their relationship. And, quite possibly, Ryder’s life.

The information Ryder currently had wasn’t enough, in itself, to pose any serious threat. However, a man such as Ryder could not be trusted with any amount of information whatsoever. He’d dig deeper, learn more, talk. The man was a loose end. And Alex did not leave loose ends.

The problem was what to do with Ryder. Killing him would be convenient. Killing him could also be dangerous. Alex had allowed too much time to pass. Ryder might have confided in someone, perhaps someone within the police department. If Ryder were to disappear in any questionable way now, the spotlight would likely shine right on him. Not that he expected anything to come of it. Still, it wasn’t a wise move.

Alex suddenly realized he’d been on auto pilot and was now down the street from his condo. He slowed and pulled into the lot. He parked in his spot, shut the car off, sat for a moment. Did he want to spend the night here alone? Unwind, get some sleep?

He sighed, knowing that as good as that sounded, he would not sleep this evening. The drive had done little to dissolve his anger. And that energy required an outlet.

Alex took his cell phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He punched in a number from memory and waited. Four rings, five… and she finally picked up. He instructed her to meet him at the condo. He was waiting. She complied, as she always did. His personal submissive plaything.

13

Three days had passed since the funeral. Three days of contemptuous glares and stony silences, broken by an occasional outburst of unbridled rage. Lauren spent the majority of her time locked in her room. She tried to steer clear of her father’s path as he stormed throughout the house. No one spoke about Stephen. It was as if his name had died along with him.

Now here she was, her first day back to work. She sat at her desk, staring blankly at the computer screen. She couldn’t concentrate on the content. She couldn’t concentrate on anything at all.

Paul Stosh, her boss, came up beside her. He touched her shoulder lightly, a look of concern in his eyes. “How are you doing?” he asked.