Black Jack (17 page)

Pouring a shot, Lilly tossed it back quickly, her eyes fluttering at the pleasant burn that hit

her stomach. Come to think of it, she distinctly remembered the fact that a glass of wine

normally accompanied any conversation with her mother. Angelica was a dominant

personality, and not always easy to get along with, even for her children.

“The least you could do is show me the respect of telling me when you will be out playing

your foolish games all night,” Angelica snapped behind her. “It would keep me from

informing the FBI that my daughter has been kidnapped again.”

“Kidnapped?” Lilly turned back to her mother. “I wasn’t kidnapped the first time, Mother.”

Angelica tamped out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray before staring at her daughter

disdainfully. “And how do you know? Have you remembered the past six years?”

“Why, no, I haven’t,” she stated clearly. “But I think I would know if I had been kidnapped,

Mother.”

“I rather doubt you would,” Angelica told her, her voice cold and brittle.

Lilly lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “According to the investigator’s report, I had quite a

bit of freedom in the past six years. I can’t see kidnappers allowing their kidnappee to carry a

gun. And I don’t remember a mention in that report of a ransom being demanded.”

Lilly propped her elbows on the bar behind her and stared back at the couple.

“I’ll call Dr. Ridgemore first thing in the morning,” Angelica said between clenched teeth.

“Clearly you need help that I cannot provide.”

Ridgemore? Lilly stared back at her mother in shock. She was well aware of who and what

Dr. Ridgemore was and what he did. He was co-owner and head psychiatrist at Le Fleur in

France, a psychiatric hospital where her mother’s cronies often sent their children for

evaluations when they were considered unruly.

“Mother, that isn’t a mistake you want to make,” Lilly stated gently. “After all this time

apart, do you truly want to make sure that I never return to this family again?”

Le Fleur was the bane of every child’s existence among the social set Lilly had once been a

part of. If they disobeyed their parents, they were sent to the hospital. If they became

dependent on drugs, tried to marry someone their parents disapproved of, made any decision

on their own, then they were shipped off.

It wasn’t every family that practiced such heinous decisions, but there were more than a

few. They couldn’t handle their children, so obviously something was wrong with the child,

not the parent. In Angelica’s case, the threat and the concern were very real. When one of her

family members didn’t conform something had to be wrong with them.

“As you seem determined to get yourself killed, it seems the preferred alternative,”

Angelica responded furiously. “You read the report Desmond received on you, Lilly. Did you

even consider the repercussions such a life could have on your family should it become

known? Do you even care?”

Her mother’s voice rose on each sentence, fury filling each word as her fists clenched at her

side, her face flushing a delicate, rosy hue.

Once, Lilly would have been desperate to appease her mother. There had been a time when

she had known nothing but fear of her mother’s rages. Not because she would hit her, or even

punish her, but because with it came the censorious silences, the lack of an allowance, the car

keys taken, friends turned away at the door.

How childish each of those punishments seemed now. If only she had no more to worry

about than lack of an allowance.

“I’m sorry, Mother, I can understand how that investigator’s report could affect the family,”

she stated, resignation filling her.

Her mother would never let her live that report down. It would never matter what the truth

eventually turned out to be; the fact that there was the slightest hint of impropriety attached to

her name was enough to ensure Angelica never forgot that her daughter had been accused of

such a thing. Or that that accusation could become public knowledge.

“I very much doubt you gave your family a moment’s thought during the years you were

away,” Angelica charged. “Had you cared even a bit, then you would have at least let us know

you were still alive.”

Pain filled Angelica’s voice then.

“Perhaps I was trying to protect you, Mother.” Lilly couldn’t imagine any other reason.

“Have you considered that? Someone killed Father and obviously tried to kill me.”

“Which only tells me you were somehow involved in his asinine little games,” Angelica

threw back furiously. “Were you, Lilly? Is that what nearly got you killed? Please, God, tell

me your father hadn’t drawn you into that paranoid probe he launched into Harrington’s?”

“Mother,” Lilly said wearily, not wanting to get into this with her. She had been outraged

when her father suspected his own share holders of stealing from the company. The

shareholders had been friends.

“Actually,” Desmond breathed out roughly. “We suspect your father had developed a bit of

dementia perhaps. I mean, to think that someone within Harrington’s or perhaps a shareholder,

was still embezzling funds from the companies. He refused to accept that whoever had stolen

the money had gotten away, or that they were no longer trifling with the accounts.”

Dementia?

Lilly stared back at her uncle as she fought to hold in her shock. There was no way anyone

could have believed her father had been ill.

“Father wasn’t ill,” she finally stated, the feeling of betrayal that filled her centering on her

uncle. “Is this how you convinced Mother to marry you? By spreading such lies about

Father?”

“Lilly!” Angelica gasped. “How dare you say such a thing.”

Lilly shook her head as Desmond’s lips thinned, his gaze narrowing on her angrily.

“Evidently, Father was dealing with much more than I knew before his death,” she

informed them both tightly. “How could you have believed for even a moment that Father was

ill?”

Angelica stared back at her for long moments, her breasts rising and falling quickly as

tension thickened further in the air.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Angelica finally whispered. “You didn’t see

him as he truly was, Lilly. You saw your father, and as a child, you excuse inconsistencies.”

Lilly lifted her hand to halt the coming tirade.

“I refuse to discuss this supposed illness,” she snapped. “You and I both know there was

nothing wrong with Father other than a family that obviously refused to believe in him. And I

well understand how he felt if you were so bold as to question his sanity to his face. My God,

Mother, simply because we dare to oppose you or because we create a few waves doesn’t

mean we’re in any way mentally deficient.”

“No, but when you throw away a title, wealth, and a stable home for the life you lived for

six years, then there is no doubt in my mind that you were mentally unbalanced,” her mother

shot back loudly. “Did you read that file, Lilly? Did it even connect in that selfish little brain

of yours what you did to us for six years? You deprived me of my daughter. You deprived

yourself of your family. For what reason? At least give me that. Why would you do such a

thing?” She was yelling by the time she finished. Her mother’s voice and expression were

filled with such tormented fury that Lilly had to fight the tears that filled her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she whispered painfully. “If I knew, Mother, then I would tell you.”

But would she?

Even as the words came out of her mouth, Lilly had a feeling she wouldn’t tell her mother

the truth. Whatever had driven her away from her family would have had to be a threat to

them as well.

“That’s all well and good.” Desmond’s shoulders tightened as he once again crossed his

arms over his chest. “That doesn’t change the fact that your actions now are unacceptable,

Lilly. You have gone irrevocably wild since connecting with Travis Caine again. This

association must end immediately.”

Lilly blinked back at him. She had the most insane urge to laugh in both their faces.

“I’m no longer sixteen, Uncle Desmond,” she told him calmly. “Travis is a connection to

the memories I’ve lost and whatever drove me from my family. Ending that association is not

an action I’m willing to take at this time.”

She had a feeling it wouldn’t be an action she was willing to take at any time, but wisely

refrained from making mention of that fact.

“I warned you she would refuse to listen to reason,” Angelica said. “Caine has somehow

managed to bewitch her.”

“Oh my God, Mother.” Lilly did laugh this time. “Bewitch me? This isn’t the Middle Ages,

you know, and Travis Caine isn’t some sort of wizard.”

“He’s a criminal is what he is,” her mother argued. “An element that has always attracted

you. You were forever attempting to converse with the less desirable elements that attended

any party you were invited to. No matter where we went it seemed you were attracted to the

shadows. I warned your father you would come to a bad end if that habit continued.”

Arguing with her mother was fruitless. She and her father had often discussed her mother’s

inability to ever admit she was wrong, and the trials in loving one who perceived that they had

no faults.

“Lilly, you’re not fully healed,” Desmond said softly, his expression still filled with censure

as he watched her. “Until you’re well enough to understand the decisions you’re making . . .”

“Don’t patronize me, Uncle Desmond,” she warned him then. “I’m not a child, nor am I a

simpleton.”

“Then stop acting so foolish!” her mother said.

“I’ve had it.” Lilly turned for the door and began walking across the room. “This discussion

is over.”

“Don’t you dare walk out on me, Victoria!” her mother demanded furiously. “I won’t have

it.”

Lilly ignored her.

Striding from the room and up the stairs, Lilly couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps her

uncle had somehow managed to deceive her father. Or worse, could he have killed his

brother?

Stranger things had been known to happen, she thought. Desmond had obviously wanted

his brother’s wife. Desmond had never married. He had no children. He had dedicated himself

to his brother and his brother’s family. Or had he simply dedicated himself to his brother’s

wife?

That was sickening. The thought of it had her stomach churning as she stalked into her

bedroom, slammed the door closed, and locked it.

Could Desmond have actually killed his brother?

God, she couldn’t imagine such a thing. And knowing her mother’s complete obsession

with appearances, she simply couldn’t imagine Angelica would have gone along with

something so horrible.

That didn’t mean she hadn’t done it.

Pacing to the window, she stared beyond it into the shadowed, cool depths of the gardens

below and fought to make sense of what was going on around her.

It was obvious Travis felt Desmond or Jared was involved in her father’s death, and the

attempt on her life as well.

Now, why would a “facilitator,” a man who was no more than a criminal, really, care about

proving whether or not anyone was involved in anything?

She frowned at the thought. That didn’t truly fit the personality of the man known as Travis

Caine. A blood-monger. A man who had no problems killing in the name of his so-called job.

A mirthless smile twisted her lips at the thought. He acted more like an agent than a

criminal.

But he’d made several good points. One being the fact that her father had trusted her with

much more information than anyone had ever suspected.

Part of that information were the login and passwords for the Harrington financial vault that

they kept on a secured server in the Harrington Manor.

She turned and stared at the laptop on her desk.

It wasn’t secured. Anyone could have tapped it and could spy on any information she

pulled up. She needed the ability to secure it, and she needed to do so quickly.

Was anything in this house secure though? She turned slowly, her lashes lowered, her gaze

taking in the areas that could possibly hide a camera. Finding electronic bugs would be much

harder . . .

The memory flashed in her mind. She had stored a secured laptop as well as a variety of

devices used to detect audio or video surveillance.

She remembered wrapping them in protective pouches and placing in the cabinet that sat in

the corner.

Sitting down on the bed, she pulled her boots off, careful to keep her demeanor cool.

Something warned her that her bedroom was indeed bugged in some manner. She was more

prone to suspect the audio versus the video, though. Not that video bothered her over much.

She almost laughed at the thought. She had visited the French Riviera more than once and

made use of the nude beaches there. She had never been particularly shy about her body, just

rather picky about sharing it.

She would slip out tonight and get the items she needed. She could manage a few hours

without getting caught, just not another all-nighter.