Play to Win (11 page)

“I don't know, but I'll find out,” Charlie promised. “In the meantime, you need to figure out what to do.”

“What do you mean? We've been in touch with our vendors, I've had Carrie reschedule meetings on Dad's calendar, I cancelled his trip to L.A. next week for the conference he was going to attend. What else is there?”

“No. I mean about Steven Shea. If I'm right, he's declared war on you and your dad in a very public and very personal way. This business is full of wolves, Sage. Once there's blood on the ground, they all come circling. And right now that blood is yours.”

C
harlie's warning was still going through my head when I left two hours later. Parker hadn't returned and he hadn't called. And I was doing a great job not letting that bother me.

Right.

I felt a burning need to find out what was going on with Natalie—why she was
really
here, because I still had my doubts about the missing sister and the dead husband. Plans and ideas to figure out what she was up to churned inside my head as I grabbed a cab and told the driver to take me to the hospital where my dad was staying.

Yes, Parker had told me not to leave. But what did he expect me to do? Wait around all night? I had one of the security guys walk me to the cab and then I was on my way.

My stomach growled—it had been a while since the pizza at lunch—and I tossed around the idea of asking the driver to swing through a drive-thru and whether that would be tacky or not. But before I could decide we'd passed everything and were pulling up to the hospital.

Hospital food it was.

I found Mom where I expected, sitting at Dad's bedside, reading aloud to him from a thick tome. She glanced up when I nodded to the two security guys guarding the door and walked in.

“What are you reading?” I asked, settling into the chair next to hers.

“Tom Clancy.”

I gave her a strange look. “Really? That's rather…ambitious.”

She shrugged and a tired smile creased her face. “He loves them. I thought it might help.”

Taking the book from her, I said, “I'm here now. Go on to the hotel and get some rest. You can come back in the morning.”

“You can't stay here all night,” she protested. “You need sleep, too.”

“I had a long nap today,” I lied. “I'll be fine. I promise. Go on.” She needed a break, I could tell. There were circles under her eyes and lines of fatigue and worry by her mouth.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Go on and get some rest, Mom.” I got her purse and ushered her to the door. “You're staying close?”

She nodded. “The Marriott across the street.”

“Good. Don't worry, okay?” I gave her a hug, squeezing tight. She held on for a long moment before we stepped back.

“All right, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning.”

She walked down the hallway, her back straight and her shoulders back. She was tired and worried, but she always kept her composure and dignity. I wished I could say the same, but I had too much of my father's emotional recklessness to always be in control.

I sank back onto the chair, my appetite having fled at some point. Depression about Parker and Ryker and what Natalie was doing to them ate at me. Seeing my father, pale and unresponsive in the bed, only added to the invisible weight on my shoulders.

My cell phone buzzed. I plucked it out of my purse, and my heart sank when I saw “Unknown” on the screen instead of “Parker Anderson.” I pressed the button.

“Hello?”

“Sage Muccino?”

That got my attention. I was mostly known as Sage Reese—my mom's maiden name, courtesy of not wanting to capitalize on the family name in college and in my post-college career.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“Senator Kirk. We met a few weeks ago. I believe you met my friend Branna.”

The badass Irish redhead with a body like Scarlett Johansson and an attitude like Sarah Connor?

“I vaguely remember her,” I lied. She'd scared the bejesus out of me.

“I want you to know that neither of us have or would in the future give any cooperation to the Shea company or its subsidiaries.”

Ah. Charlie must've been working the phones since the minute I left. Though why the senator would feel it necessary to call me personally was beyond me.

“That's good to hear,” I said carefully.

“And if there's anything she or I can do to assist you or your father during this difficult time, please let me know.”

And suddenly a gift horse was plopped in my lap.

“Actually,” I said, “there is something. I'm looking for information on a woman. She says her husband was in jail about ten years ago, then was killed in a drug deal gone bad. Now she's telling us her sister is missing, possibly kidnapped, and I'm not sure she's telling the truth. Can you help?”

“That's something I can take a look at, yes,” he said. “Why don't you send me what you know about her and I'll get back to you.” He rattled off an e-mail address, which I scrambled in my purse for paper to jot down, then repeated it back.

“Great, thank you,” I said.

“Your father has always been a generous supporter of the party and I'm pleased we can do something to help,” the senator said.

Ah. I should've known it came down to money. Since when did politicians do anything just to be nice and helpful?

“I'm sure my father won't forget your kindness once he's fully recovered,” I said. “I know I won't.”
Hint, hint. Yes, you'll get another donation.

I'd just hung up from talking to the senator when the door opened and Parker walked in.

I bristled, pulling on an armor of indifference to cover my hurt. What the hell had he been doing all this time with Natalie and Ryker? I wasn't about to ask. I didn't care, right? It wasn't as if I had a claim on Parker's time.

“At least I found you,” he said, keeping his voice modulated out of deference to my father and the hour. I could hear the pissed-off tone, though, lurking under the surface.

“I didn't realize you were looking,” I said. “For all your claims of indifference, it didn't take you long to go running to Natalie's beck and call.” I heard the jealousy in my voice and inwardly cringed.

A nerve ticked in Parker's jaw. “I told you to stay put.”

“I'm not a dog, Parker. I needed to come here and let my mom leave.”

“Why didn't you call me?”

“Why didn't you come back?”

“I did and you were gone.”

“Exactly.”

Stalemate.

We stared at each other. Natalie was like a ghost between us. Parker shoved his fingers through his hair and sat down next to me with a sigh. We both stared at my dad, lying impassive in the bed, the machines quietly whirring and doing their thing to keep him monitored and stable.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I was pissed off because I've been trying to leave for over an hour and Natalie was a mess.”

“Did she identify anyone?”

He shook his head. “No, but I guess there were trace amounts of DNA on the ransom note that the lab guys think is blood. They're running tests to see if it's Jessie's. Natalie was crying, Ryker was trying to do his job, and I couldn't leave.”

Hard to argue with that one, though I wanted to. Jessie could be hurt and Natalie was upset. I'd look like a total bitch to be upset, and yet I was…
both
actually—upset
and
a bitch. I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything I'd probably end up regretting.

“Charlie thinks Steve Shea, Leo's son, is behind the attacks and threats,” I said, deciding to change the subject. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Parker glance at me.

“Steve's back in town?”

“Apparently so. Charlie thinks I need to retaliate in some way.” It was surreal, thinking in those terms. This wasn't
The Godfather
, and yet he'd tried to kill both me and my dad.

“I don't like the idea of you putting yourself in the middle of a war between Shea and your father,” he said.

“Shea's already done that. And I have a feeling he's not going to stop.”

Parker was silent, tension radiating from him. He bent, resting his elbows on his spread knees, and looked back at the hospital bed. “I'd feel better if we left town for a while. Let the cops do their job. They'll turn up something to tie Shea to the shooting.”

I grimaced. “I wish I could believe that, but somehow I doubt he left a trail of clues leading straight to him. From what Charlie said, he may not have run his dad's business before, but he's not stupid. And who knows what he'll do if I up and leave? What if he targets my mom? I can't leave that to chance.”

Parker rubbed the back of his neck and didn't reply.

“How's Ryker?” I asked. “Natalie still have him eating out of her palm?” I couldn't get him out of the back of my mind. Worry ate at me over how easily he'd fallen back into Natalie's orbit. It brought to mind the conversation I'd had with Ryker's friend Amy back on the boat weeks ago. How Ryker just could never see Natalie for what she was, that to him she was this perfect angel who could do no wrong. It was hard to reconcile the badass image I had of Ryker as someone who you couldn't bullshit with a man so smitten by a pretty face that he'd toss aside all common sense and caution.

“You could say that,” Parker replied. “Why? Are you jealous?” He said it in a carefully even kind of way, but I stiffened nonetheless.

“I'm worried about him,” I said. “I don't like to think of him as being manipulated by anyone. Especially Natalie.”

“So you two are over?” he asked.

“I broke up with both of you, remember?”

“Yeah, but you were at his house when Natalie showed up.”

“I was returning his things,” I said, wondering why I was bothering to explain myself to him. “Now who's jealous?”

The corners of his lips quirked upward and his blue eyes fixed on mine. He was close enough to touch if I stretched my hand out just a little. It would be nice to hold his hand and absorb some of his strength. It felt like my own emotional and mental stability were reaching their limits.

His cell phone buzzed, killing the moment, and he dug it out of his pocket to answer. After speaking for a few minutes (while I pretended not to listen), he covered the speaker with his hand and mouthed at me
be right back
before heading out the door.

I let out a sigh, exhausted. Seeing my dad like this wasn't helping, plus I was starving.

As if to answer my prayers, the doors opened and the warm smell of Italian food hit me, making my stomach grumble. Then I decided God was a cruel joker because who would be holding the bags containing the mouthwatering goodies? Natalie, of course.

Because I hadn't seen enough of her already.

“I hope you don't mind,” she said with a tentative smile. “But Ryker told me what happened to your dad, so I thought you might be hungry. Italian is the best comfort food there is, right?”

Okay, this was weird. “Um, yeah. Probably.” My dad would definitely agree with that.

She set the bags down on the counter and proceeded to start removing containers, talking as she did. “My parents died when I was six,” she said. “Car accident. Jessie and I went to live with our aunt. Didn't have enough money to go to college, so I was working at the local bar and grill when I met Rookie.”

“Rookie?”

“Oh yeah, sorry. He was my husband. His nickname. Everyone called him by it because he didn't like his given name. Anyway,” she continued, pulling the wrapper off a plastic fork and knife, “we got married when I was desperate to get out of this town. Should've known it was too good to be true.”

“Why's that?” I could no longer resist the aroma of marinara and I drifted closer, eyeing the takeout containers. She couldn't have poisoned them, could she? My stomach was growling so loud I didn't know if I cared if she'd poisoned
and
spit in them. I was starving.

“He showed his true colors pretty quick. Broke my arm. Knocked out a tooth.” She handed me a paper plate laden with lasagna and Caesar salad. “I was glad when he got caught robbing a liquor store and got put away.”

Huh.

I dug in to the lasagna, mulling over what she'd said. She was pretty matter-of-fact about being a victim of domestic violence. A broken arm? And he'd hit her hard enough to knock out a tooth? Regardless of how I felt about her, reluctant sympathy rose in me. If she was telling the truth, she'd led a pretty hard life.

Besides, food was food no matter who'd brought it. Natalie took some as well, though I noticed she only put half as much on her plate as she had on mine. Figured. Just when I was feeling sorry for her, too.

“So why are you here?” I asked. “You don't even know me.”

“Dean and Parker know you. You're their friend and a part of their lives. I thought we should be friends, too.” Her smile was dazzling.

“You want to be friends?” I asked, my tone laden with skepticism.

“Absolutely. I don't have a lot of girlfriends, and I think we'd get along really well.” Still the smile that said we could totally be besties.

Parker walked in, took one look at Natalie and me standing there, and stopped. His eyebrows flew upward as he took in the food and our plates and Natalie, standing right next to me.

“What's this?” he asked.

“I brought Sage some dinner,” Natalie said. “I didn't realize you were here, too, but I'm sure there's plenty.”

I didn't buy for a second that she hadn't known Parker was there.

“How…thoughtful of you,” Parker said as she heaped food onto another plate and handed it to him.

Yeah,
thoughtful
was just the word I'd been thinking.

“Well, I have to admit, I did have a slightly ulterior motive,” Natalie said.

Color me surprised.

“And what is that?” Parker asked.

Natalie looked my way. “Well, it's just that I'm kind of low on funds and I've been staying at a hotel while I look for Jessie, but that's not really financially feasible. So…”

Oh my God. I could see where this was going.
Please don't say it. Please don't say it—

“…I was wondering if I might be able to stay with you for a few days.” She finished with another hopeful smile.