Treasured Past (18 page)

“I’m afraid not. At least nothing more than what I’ve already shared with you.”

My jaw began to work. It didn’t make sense, really. But just because Annie had decided against using the information, it didn’t mean that I had to do the same.

“Thanks, Melanie.” I was hopeful again. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Before the end of the day?”

I laughed. “Maybe. We’ll see how things go. I imagine that we’ll chat sometime before nightfall.”

Melanie sounded almost relieved. “Good luck, Kate. I’ll talk to you later.”

I said good-bye and began scripting a conversation with Donald in my mind. It may have been foolish on my part, but a sick little part of me was actually looking forward to our conversation.

I decided not to wait any longer. If everything went as I hoped, then time was absolutely crucial. Steadying my nerves, I left my office and headed down the hall. Better to catch him off guard and in his own office, I decided. The dynamics would at least give me the illusion of control, and I needed all the help I could get.

I could hear him growling at someone from several offices away. Millicent was standing guard, and she held me at bay while he continued his tirade. He was on the phone, ripping into some poor fool.

I explained to Millie that I needed to speak to him immediately. “It has to do with his son’s divorce case.” I dropped my voice down conspiratorially, and her interest seemed to pick right up.

She lowered her voice as well, assuring me she would see what she could do before disappearing into Donald’s office. I could hear him pontificating at length before he finally paused and gave his attention to his secretary. Two sentences later, he was slamming down the phone and calling out to me to enter his office.

Here we go.
I took several deep breaths.
No turning back now.

He was all smiles when I entered the room, waving me inside and actually standing as I approached his desk.

“Sit down, Kate.” His voice boomed. “Are we ready for the big day tomorrow?”

“I believe we are, sir.” I spoke confidently.

“Good, good. We’ll all be glad when the whole ordeal is over.”

“Yes sir.” I held my tongue and watched him closely, looking for some sign that he knew more than he was telling me.

He was watching me in return, eyes narrowing as he frowned.

“Is there something else, then? Something else that you wanted to discuss?”

I spoke cautiously, dropping my voice for his ears only. “There is something else, sir. Something that I’m not quite sure how to handle.”

“What’s this about?”

“Your son’s case, sir.”

He was frowning again. I recalled our last conversation about his son’s divorce and how he had belittled my concerns. No doubt he was gearing up for another tongue-lashing.

He was barely containing his impatience. “Yes, Kate. What is it? Speak up.”

I took another deep breath and let it out slowly. If Donald Gold had set me up the way Annie imagined he had, I would certainly know it shortly.

“I was recently made aware of some information about your son, sir,” I paused, watching his reaction closely. “Since he is my client, I thought that I should speak to him directly. But given the nature of the information and my relationship with you and the firm, I thought it might be more appropriate to bring it, to you.”

He was frowning again. I wasn’t quite sure how to interpret his slow reaction. But knowing what I did about Donald Junior, I imagined that this wasn’t the first time that someone had approached his father with information that wasn’t exactly flattering.

“Does this information have any impact on the proceedings tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid that it might,” I told him, carefully keeping my voice even.

He finally sat down, pulling himself close to his desk as he leaned forward, hands folded loosely.

When he didn’t speak, I decided to rephrase what I had said. “As I said, my first instinct was to discuss this directly with your son. But I wasn’t sure if I should come to you first.”

He was nibbling on his bottom lip. “You mean you didn’t know whether or not you should cover your ass.” His voice was no longer friendly.

I smiled briefly and nodded my head. “Something like that, sir.” Better to play the game his way.

“Then you probably did the right thing in coming to me first. What is it then? What has my son done this time?”

For a moment I almost felt sorry for him. From the tone of his voice, I imagined that he had spent a lifetime having conversations that began just like this one.

I cleared my throat to steady myself and launched into the speech that I’d been scripting in my mind.

“I’ve been made aware of some information that could prove quite damaging to your son.” Here is where I had to choose my words very carefully. “Apparently on at least two occasions, your son has sold merchandise to people using the name and receipts of his wife’s antique store.”

Donald continued to stare at me, displaying patience for the first time in my presence.

“The problem is that your son represented these items as genuine antiques, when in fact they were just reproductions.”

He was instantly relieved, dismissing my concerns easily.

“That doesn’t sound like a problem to me,” he said. “He made a mistake.”

“That would be true, sir, except there are additional details that you should know about.”

He frowned again, clamping his mouth shut.

“In one instance, the item was in the store, marked and priced as a replica. Your son removed it from the store and sold it to buyers that he had found through other avenues. Apparently your son represented and sold the piece as an original, and pocketed the money from each sale.”

The crease between Donald’s brows deepened, and for the very first time, I felt like I might actually have the upper hand.

“In the other situation,” I continued, “the merchandise didn’t come from the shop at all. But your son produced a receipt with the store’s name on it, apparently to give the item a look of authenticity.”

“Is there more?” he growled, no longer so quick to dismiss me and my concerns.

“Yes sir. In both cases he doctored the books at the store. Entries and receipts are all in his handwriting. Both of the buyers have also returned the items to the store, and your son’s wife has produced refunds for the inflated price that each paid.” I paused, drawing out my summation. “There is a solid paper trail, sir. And witnesses.”

There. I’d planted the seed. Now I just had to make sure that I didn’t say too much, and that I let Donald Senior take the direction that would cause himself and his family to save as much face as possible.

His reaction was interesting to watch. He made no blind denials or insistence that his son would never do such a thing. I could only imagine the number of times that Donald had bailed his son out from one disaster or another.

“How do you know they’re not just blowing smoke?” His voice was unusually calm and quiet.

“I actually saw the evidence, Donald.” I experienced a small pleasure as I changed my posture. I was no longer just an employee. Now I would play the comforting friend and confidant as well.

“How did you manage that?” he asked quickly.

I dropped my voice and confided in him. “It probably wasn’t very ethical on my part, if you know what I mean. But it had to do with your son and the firm, so...” I let the sentence trail off, leading him to believe whatever he wanted to.

He offered a small smile. “I appreciate your loyalty and whatever risks you might have taken in getting your hands on this information.”

Relief spread over me. He’d swallowed the hook. I waited quietly for his next words. If he knew anything about my relationship with Annie, now would be the time for him to confront me. I held my breath and waited.

“Do you think they’ll use this information?” It was a ridiculous question, of course.

I looked at him evenly, again thinking carefully before I responded. “Wouldn’t you?”

His smile was ironic as he nodded, his voice quiet and thoughtful. “And of course they wouldn’t let us know in advance that they had this information. I expect that it was their plan to spring this on us once we were in court.” I could almost see the chess game that he played in his mind. “Smart move on their part, not to tip their hand.”

I nodded. There was no point in replying.

“Is there anything else I should be aware of?” He was back to business.

“I think that’s it, Donald. I just need some direction from you at this point. Shall I contact your son and pass along this information?” I knew there was no chance in hell that he would let me talk to Donald Junior.

“Oh no.” He was emphatic. “I’ll take care of my son. You just sit tight for a bit.” He seemed distracted. “We may have to make a few last-minute maneuvers.”

Maneuvers.
What in the hell did that mean? My heart went cold. Was it possible that after this conversation, everything could still backfire? Would the
Golds
still be able to
fmd
a way to wrangle the house away from Annie?

“I’ll be in my office if you need me then.” I tried to keep my voice steady as I stood and excused myself. I turned and left his office and headed down the hallway. I had an uneasy feeling that the situation wasn’t yet over, and I had several hours to wait for the other shoe to drop.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

My nerves were on edge for the rest of the day as I contemplated what might be transpiring just down the hall. I had glimpsed Donald Junior as he breezed by my office on his way to his father’s, and it was all I could do to sit still and wait to see what would happen.

At three-thirty, Donald’s secretary called, summoning me to his office. The look that Millie gave me when I passed her desk made me want to run for cover. I imagined that she could hear every word that was spoken inside those walls.

I knocked on the door and opened it just enough to poke my head inside.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes. Come in and shut the door, won’t you?”

I did as I was told, closing the door behind me as I entered the office. We were not alone. My client was sitting to one side of the room. His face was beet red, and he didn’t meet my eyes.

Warning sirens began going off in my mind. This wasn’t a good sign. A confrontation with Donald Junior wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

“Sit down, Kate.”

Again, I did as I was told, my eyes darting back and forth between father and son. I began speaking to myself in my mind, trying to calm myself. It wouldn’t do to appear nervous at this point.

Donald Senior cleared his throat.

“It appears that we have some work to do.” His eyes were on his son, and I began to feel the tension between them.

“I spoke with my son about the information that you’ve gathered, and it appears that he has no defense.” He was addressing me, but his eyes still hadn’t left his son.

“Isn’t that right, Don?”

The color on the younger man’s face darkened as he kept his lips carefully clamped together.

“In fact” — Donald’s voice was rising — “my son here has confessed to practically making a living off of stealing from his wife and her store.” Again he paused for emphasis. “Isn’t that right, Don?” He repeated the question to his son and again received no reply.