What a Girl Wants (20 page)

“Wrong crowd?” Donovan shook his head. “The IRA makes the Hells Angels look like a bunch of altar boys.”

Maxwell squeezed a slice of lemon into his glass before answering. “He was a seventeen-year-old boy who allowed temptation to take over good judgment and made bad choices. He quit his job at the docks and was hired as a driver for the RPK Gang. The pay was three times what he was making cleaning fish. As far as he was concerned he was a chauffeur. The only information he was given were pick-up and drop-off times and destinations. On the day of the ambush, he was told the RPK members were meeting with four British soldiers to discuss the aftereffects of Bloody Sunday, come to a truce of sorts.”

Donovan leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees. “You stated earlier that he wasn’t ever given any details. Why did they suddenly fill him in? Did he not question why his gang members were so heavily armed for a peace talk?”

Maxwell rattled the ice in his glass. “I can’t answer detailed questions. I never asked.”

“Really?” One word, but Maxwell read the tone and question behind Donovan’s delivery. How could someone in his position, someone who headed one of the largest financial and real estate conglomerates in the world, not do a thorough check of the facts?

Fact was, he had no intention of filling in the gaps for Donovan.

“You need to get your man Liam in here.”

Maxwell shook his head and held his hand up. “That’s not open for discussion or debate.”

Donovan gave him a look that said,
Figured as much.

“Do you want me to continue?” Maxwell asked.

“Be my guest.”

Maxwell ignored the sarcastic tone. “When the ambush and shooting took place, Liam realized he was part of an execution plot. He made the decision to take off and leave the gang behind. He drove to a nearby phone booth and tipped off Scotland Yard, giving them the names of the gang members and the location of not only the ambush, but the RPK headquarters.”

“What a hero.” Donovan straightened in his seat. “He never carried an RPK?”

Maxwell shook his head. “He never brandished or fired a weapon. He was sickened by what he had witnessed.”

Donovan lifted his brow. “A hero and a saint.”

Maxwell tightened his grip on the arm of his chair. “I can end this conversation right here and now.”

Donovan stood. “You won’t.” Leaning over the back of the chair across from Maxwell, he asked, “If what you told me is true, why didn’t he identify himself and tell his side? After all, he was led to believe he was going to meet a few British soldiers and sing Kumbaya, right?”

“He was only seventeen years old. He was scared and confused and had just witnessed two murders.”

“Where did he go after the call?”

“To this day, I don’t know. He disappeared for five years. He was not only on the run from the law but from the IRA as well.” Maxwell swiveled his chair around and looked out the window. “When my wife graduated from school she moved to Wales to work. Liam had discovered that his mother and stepfather had died so he tracked down his sister in Wales. He managed to slip through the border to visit her. He lived with her for a year. She tried to talk him into going back and turning himself in, explaining what he had witnessed, but he refused. Unknown to her, he’d obtained a false passport and he ran away to the USA. She used up all her savings but managed to find him two years later in New York, working in the Meat Packing District. That’s when I met and married her. Shortly after we married she was diagnosed with cancer, and she told me about her brother before she died.

“I made a promise that I would take care of him. And I have. He’s been a law-abiding citizen. A hardworking, loyal employee and friend to me and my family.”

Donovan cupped his chin and studied him for a few seconds. “Who else knows about him?”

“My ex-wife knew a few things, but she hasn’t and won’t talk.”

“And how can you be sure?”

Maxell shot him a cynical smile. “She loves money. Her silence was and is for sale.”

“You know what Galvin’s going to have to do, don’t you?” Donovan walked around the table and leaned against the windowsill. “None of this is on the Internet, and I have no idea how you managed that, but it wasn’t that hard for me to dig up this information.”

“You signed an agreement that this was confidential.”

“It is. But if I was able to uncover this, who says another reporter won’t? And aren’t there enough secrets in your life already?”

“I am not going to throw a loyal friend under a bus because he screwed up as a young man.” He gave Donovan a hard stare. “You of all people should understand that.”

Donovan furrowed his brow for a moment and then his eyes widened with understanding. “I see you’ve done
your
research. No problem. I paid for my mistake and owned up to it. What I did was wrong, but you can’t compare a high-school prank with a terrorist act.”

Maxwell ran his hand through his hair. “So you’d have no problem with someone dredging up your past then?”

“Is that a threat? Because if it is, I don’t care. Like I said, I’ve owned up to everything that’s happened in my past.”

We’ll see if you mean that, Donovan.
Maxwell regarded him for a few seconds. “You cannot print any of this.”

“You have my word and signature.” Donovan pointed to the signed agreement on the table. “You can take my advice or leave it, but I still think he needs to turn himself in. If what he’s told you is true, given his impeccable record he would most likely be pardoned. Over sixty fugitives have been offered pardons for crimes much worse than his since the Northern Ireland Offences Bill. With your contacts, money and help, the worst that would happen is that he’d return, be convicted with a criminal record and then freed with a pardon.”

“I’ll discuss that with him.” Maxwell let out a breath. “But it’s not my decision.” He gave Donovan a pointed look. “Nor is it yours.”

Donovan nodded. “If Liam Galvin wants his story told then I’ll write it. With his permission.”

Maxwell glanced at his watch. “If there’s nothing else, I must ask you to leave, I have a dinner engagement.”

“Oh, there is something else.”

What did he want to know now? Maxwell thought, reaching for the brandy decanter. He needed a drink, forget restraint. “What is it? I only have a few minutes.”

“You’re going to want to change your dinner plans.”

Maxwell poured a finger of brandy. “Why would I do that?”

Donovan stepped closer and pierced him with a confrontational glare. “I want to know what gave you the right to run a DNA test on Maddie’s hair without her consent. And what are you planning on doing after you get the results?”

“Why the hell is that Crystal skank looking into your life?” Reece said to Maddie on the phone. “Have you ever even met her?”

“I don’t know what she wants with me but I intend to find out,” Maddie said. “I never met her. Caught her trashy talk show a few times.”

Out of morbid curiosity Maddie had tuned into Washington’s program,
Crystal Clear
. The late-night show was mostly filled with Mustang-Ranch sorority lookalikes who spouted hateful anti-male rhetoric.

Okay, maybe some of the women did have a valid beef with the scumbags from hell they had dated, but their behavior on the show made Jerry Springer’s guests look like Ozzie and Harriet. Crystal encouraged these women to set up a cyber dunk tank, complete with pictures, names and addresses, to publicly humiliate the men.

Besides Crystal Washington’s stunningly beautiful looks—her brown skin was flawless, her eyes were the color of dark topaz and her hair was jet black, long and gorgeously curly—Maddie wondered what the hell Alex ever saw in her.

“So about this info,” Reece said. “Are you sure the PI is on the right track?”

“Yeah, even though I still have to make sense of it all, I think it’s legit.” Maddie laid her head on the pillow and rubbed her temple. She’d returned to Kinko’s to surf the net, looking for answers based on the information PI Bernie had sent her. She also Googled Crystal Washington and found out who her agent was. Maddie had left the agent an urgent voice mail, asking him to give his client a message to call her on her cell phone.

Maddie had composed an e-mail to Reece to fill her in as best she could. Soon after receiving Maddie’s e-mail, Reece called her hotel room. Reece was a night owl and was still up, working on her artwork.

“I doubt I can get any information by phone or even e-mail,” Maddie said. “So if you could check out those places for me, I’ll be that much closer. No idea if they’ll cough up any information, but I’ll appreciate anything you can get and—”

“And don’t worry about the details.” Maddie could tell Reece was sending her a reassuring smile. “I’ll flash my press pass and my charm, tell them I’m working on a piece and voila.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“Nah. I’ll hit you up for a kidney if I ever need one,” Reece said. “You sound down. I’m worried about you.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.” Maddie forced a lighter tone to her voice. “Sometimes you can be a bitch, but that’s besides the point.”

Reece laughed. “Did you talk to Alex about any of this? He probably has some contacts—”

“Not yet. I didn’t have a lot of information to share until now. We’re leaving for Maui after breakfast. His family’s vacationing there and I had planned to go there for my article. Soon as we have some time, I’m going to fill him in and tell him about Crystal Washington’s sticking her plastic nose into my business.” Like it or not, Alex was going to have to talk about his ex-girlfriend.

“You think she had a nose job?”

Maddie slipped her reading glasses off and put them in their case, sighing. “No. I’m being catty.”

“Be careful with that bitch.” Reece’s voice turned serious. “You’re dealing with a lot, and she does have a history with Alex.”

Reece was like a sister to her. They not only had fun, shared clothes, secrets and at times bickered, but they always had each other’s backs.

Maddie forced herself to chuckle to lighten the atmosphere. “You know I can take her, if I had to.”

“Chica, that I know. It’s this thing with you and Alex that has me worried.”

Maddie’s cell phone sang its tune. “Speaking of the handsome devil, he’s calling me on my cell.”

“I’ll let you go then,” Reece said. “I’ll get that info for you soon. Call if you need me.”

“Will do.”

Maddie hung up the hotel phone and pressed the talk button on her cell phone. She hoped Alex was on his way over. She wanted his arms around her. “Hey now,” she said. “Lemme guess. You and Maxwell made up over a candlelight dinner and fine wine and now you’re drunk dialing me?”

“You deserve a spanking for that.”

“Promises, promises.” Even though he sounded tired, his voice lifted her mood, like air into a deflated balloon.

“I can see where this conversation is headed,” he said. “I have a few minutes alone. So tell me, what are you wearing?”

“A smile.”

“And?”

She looked down at her polka-dotted lounging pants and Alex’s Yankees sweatshirt. “That’s it.”

“Oh man, you’re killing me.” She heard his loud sigh. “I know I said we’d get together tonight, but it looks like I’m going to be here longer than expected and then I have some work to catch up on.”

“Oh.” Maddie picked up her watch from the nightstand. It was eight o’clock. Couldn’t he wrap it up, and work on his assignment another day? But she knew him better than that. Work trumped everything else.

“You okay?” he asked.

No, I’m not okay. I opened up a can of worms before coming to Hawaii, thinking it would take months to find out the truth. I thought after some fun, sun and time with you, I’d be totally able to cope with whatever came my way later. But it’s all happening now, and it’s disturbing, sad, frustrating and confusing, and I want your shoulder to lean on more than I want to admit.

“I’m tired.” She yawned for emphasis. “I need a solid night’s sleep.”
And a hug from you.

“You sure that’s all?”

I’m not sure about anything, only that I miss having you here and that scares the shit out of me.
She pulled out another yawn. “I’m fading as we speak.”

“Guess we both need a good night of sleep,” he said.

“Don’t work too late, and I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Can’t wait to spend a few uninterrupted days with you in Maui,” he said. “I’m sorry about tonight. Sleep well, sweetheart.”

“No biggie, and back at you.” She hung up and gathered the papers strewn all over her bed, shoving a few of them back in the envelope.

“Ouch. Dammit.” A staple sticking out from one of the sheets of paper jabbed her. She headed to the bathroom to wash off the blood. Her blood. Her blood that was part Felicia’s and part…she had no idea who else’s blood flowed through her, and if she had deciphered the paperwork correctly, Felicia probably had no clue, either.

She turned the cold-water tap on, placing her bleeding finger under it and thinking about her birth certificate.
Father Unknown
. Tears stained her cheeks. Reece was going to verify some of that information, and if it was accurate, then her biological father would probably stay unknown forever.

“Thank you, Felicia,” she said aloud. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks. She blew out an aggravated breath. “Screw this.” Tears weren’t going to get her any answers, they never did. She dried her hands and face and went back to the bedroom.

Juiced up on a carafe of hot chocolate and half a package of chocolate chip cookies she’d devoured earlier, she pounded the New York phone number into her cell phone and waited for Felicia to pick up. “She owes me answers, dammit.”

“Hello?” Felicia answered in a drowsy voice. “Who…who’s calling?”

Maddie thought about hanging up. Instead, she took a few deep breaths and dived right in. “Take your sleep mask off. Nudge Eddy out of bed. Tell him you need privacy. Splash cold water on your face and pour yourself a cup of anti-whatever new-age stuff you’re drinking these days. Because we
are
going to talk.”

“Madison?” Felicia cleared her throat. “Do you realize what time it is here?”