Treasured by Thursday (Weekday Brides Series Book 7) (27 page)

Hunter laid a hand on her thigh. “We will come up with a list and get back to you.”

“Time is our enemy, Mr. Blackwell.”

“My decorator will have a list of the kids, and the name of the tree lot . . . the men who set up the lights outside. All those numbers are at home, Officer.”

“As soon as you can get them, Mrs. Blackwell . . . the better.”

“Of course.”

Hunter took Delgado’s number and hung up.

“What do you think that’s all about?” Gabi asked.

“Couldn’t tell you. What do you remember about him?”

“Kid . . . twenty-three, maybe. Some of the college girls were flirting with him. Felicia kept snapping her fingers, telling them to get on with their work and hook up later.” She felt a little smile. “You think that’s what he did? Skipped out on work, hooked up with someone?”

“Possible. What do you want me to do?”

She waved him off, stepped around his desk, and grabbed her purse. “Nothing. I’ll gather the numbers and call Officer Delgado back.”

“I can be home in twenty minutes if you need me.”

She paused at the door with a smile.

Andrew met her at the house, phone numbers in hand. Hunter was, above all things, efficient. Once she contacted Delgado and gave him the numbers he needed, she glanced at the other messages Andrew had taken for her for the day.

Meg called. Call her back.

Meg picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Mama,” Gabi teased.

There was no hello . . . no how do you do . . . just a quick and to-the-point question. “Hunter blackmailed you, didn’t he?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hunter clicked out of the video conference call with a huge sigh of relief. Travis had found the man embezzling his funds and was working with a team of undercover detectives to catch the man in the act. Hunter was about to give in and ask his wife for her savant help on his accounts, see if Gabi could narrow down the location of the missing funds tighter than his team had managed. Looked like now all he had to do was deliver the good news.

He was turning off his computer when Tiffany stacked yet one more unexpected interruption in his day, fifteen minutes before she was due to leave the office. “Sorry for—”

“Save it.”

Tiffany stepped to a paneled wall and opened a hidden door that housed a flat-screen television. “PR called, asked what you wanted to do about this.”

Hunter stood and waited for Tiffany to turn on the set and bring up the recorded feed someone on their team had captured.

The image of Gabi standing beside Sheila in what looked like a sworn enemy stance filled the top right of the screen. The reporter captioned the image with one statement. “The mistress and wife meet.”

The media had been a thorn for years. Now Gabi was feeling their claws.

The reporter went on . . . “Join us at seven for the exclusive interview with the day care worker who claims to be caring for Hunter Blackwell’s illegitimate son. Mr. Blackwell recently and quite unexpectedly married a Florida socialite . . .” The reporter continued to spew his tease for the evening segment.

Tiffany clicked off the set and waited.

“I need Ben Lipton on the phone. Tell PR
no comment
until I say otherwise.”

Tiffany hesitated, then put her feet in motion.

By the time he was off the phone with his private lawyer, Remington had left a message on his cell and his secretary in the New York office asked for his instructions.

On his way home, he stopped by the florist.

Gabi met him at the door with a smirk. “Flowers? How cliché.”

“You saw the news.”

She took the red and white roses from his hands and led a path to the kitchen. “Everyone saw the news. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since I returned from your office.”

He studied her movements as she found a vase and filled it with water. He searched for any uncertainty in her actions and found none.

“Flowers from a cheating husband makes you look guilty,” she told him.

“And if anyone asks, the day Hayden became public knowledge I bought my wife flowers and came home early.”

“It’s after six.”

“Early for me,” he corrected himself. He shrugged out of his jacket and laid it on the back of a chair.

She picked the tiny sealed card from the floral spray and pointed it in his direction. “Good thing you’re taking me out for dinner.”

“I am?”

“You are. Meeting the mother of your son is exhausting,” she teased as she pulled at the edge of the envelope. Gabi’s teasing smile fell when she opened the check. “What’s this?”

He leaned a hip against the counter. “One million for every affair, alleged or proven.”

Her eyes narrowed and didn’t let his go. “I should cash this just to spite you.”

“A deal is a deal.”

“How many eyes do you have on him?” Gabi lay beside Hunter, her knee draped over his, her hand on his chest drawing circles.

“You’re asking about another man after that?”

She smacked his chest. “Hayden. How many eyes do you have on
him
?”

“My extended eyes are on Sheila and Noah.”

Gabi leaned up on her elbow and her gaze went cold.

Before he could utter a word, she leaned her naked body over his and fumbled with the phone on the side table. She shoved the phone into his face. “All eyes on Hayden.”

“Wha—”

“The entire free world was told, by the media, that you have a son. You want the free world to believe he’s yours . . . would you let your son have less protection than your wife?”

He sat up in the bed, as did Gabi. The sheet pooled around her waist, leaving a picture of beauty he had to ignore. “I have private investigators on Sheila and Noah . . . not bodyguards.”

Gabi placed a hand on her naked hip as she straightened her shoulders. “Why do you have bodyguards watching over me?”

“Someone out there could . . .” His words trailed off as the point she was trying to make drove home. “Shit.”

He tossed the sheet from his spent frame and shoved off the bed as he dialed. His head was so bent on the taking, he’d completely disregarded the target.

“MacBain.”

“I know it’s late,” Hunter told Neil as he made his way to his office. “I need eyes on . . .” the moment of decision was on him.

“On who?” It was late, but Neil’s voice was solid.

Hunter clicked on his computer. “My son.”

Silence.

“The news had the truth for once?”

Something told Hunter that eventually Neil and those who knew Gabi would know the truth. Instead of a flat-out lie, he stated what he needed. “Hayden is the innocent one here. I want eyes on him, Neil. I’m here with Gabi and can send Solomon or Connor.”

Hunter gave the address he had, the name of the day care, and the two private investigators working the case so Neil’s men didn’t mistake them for someone else.

By the time he was off the phone, Gabi stood in the doorway, arms crossed over the black flowing robe covering her bare shoulders. “You need me,” she told him.

Her words and stance were flippant.

The reality of her statement, anything but.

The difference between defense and offense is really about the placement of the players on the board. Only for Gabi, her life went from defending her position to taking what she wanted overnight.

Hunter met with his lawyers first thing in the morning and Gabi met with hers.

Lori ushered her into the office, offered tea and a smile. “Looks like we missed an angle in your contract with Blackwell,” she said before Gabi could explain anything.

“Hayden wasn’t expected.”

Lori relaxed in her high-back chair. “Something tells me Blackwell knew all about his little bundle before he offered you a contract.”

“No doubt about it. But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh?”

Gabi opened the folder she’d brought in and held it over Lori’s desk. “Everything I say in here is confidential . . . right?”

From the drop of Lori’s jaw, she wasn’t expecting the question. “Completely.”

Gabi handed her the papers. Lori glanced through the pile as Gabi spoke. “My late husband was a drug smuggler.”

From the expression on Lori’s face, this wasn’t new information.
She’d been Samantha’s lawyer for some time, and if Gabi had to guess,
some of the less public information was old news to the attorney.

“You already knew that.”

Lori shrugged.

“What you don’t know . . . what few know is . . . I killed him.”

Lori snapped her eyes to Gabi’s “He died in the hospital.”

“I pulled the plug.”

The attorney released a sigh. “Telling the doctors to take him off life support isn’t the same as killing him.”

“Not according to the life insurance company that paid out after Alonzo’s death.”

Lori flipped through the papers until she found the forms regarding the payout.

“That’s a big payout.”

“I cashed the check and then promptly gave the money to a multitude of drug prevention programs. If you look at the fine print in the policy, if my hand was in any way responsible for the death of my spouse, including removing him from life support without a court order, the policy was voided.”

“Only you cashed the check.”

“You see my problem.”

Lori pulled out a legal pad and scribbled a note to herself. “Insurance fraud is a bigger deal than holding up a liquor store and shooting the clerk these days. Big companies are making examples out of anyone caught. We’re going to have to proceed with caution.”

Gabi hated the fear in her gut. “Had I known about the clause I would never have cashed the check.”

“Do you have the money to pay it back?”

Gabi removed the check Hunter had given her the night before and handed it to Lori.

The attorney laughed. “That’s a lot of zeros.”

“I think Hunter is good for them.”

Lori paper clipped the check to the file and closed it.

“There’s a couple other things I’m dealing with that you might need to know about.”

Lori held out her hand. “Another file?”

Gabi shook her head as she leaned over the desk and flipped the pad around. She wrote down the two bank names and account numbers in question. “The first is a bank in Colombia. The second in Italy. Both have my name on them. Well, Gabriella Picano.” Gabi went on to explain the details she could provide. Limited that they were.

“You have no idea who dipped into them?”

“No. The one in Italy had money going in, barely anything coming out. The Colombian one had a steady stream coming and going.”

“Laundering.”

“Probably. When I found out about them, I changed the access numbers and they’ve been silent ever sense.”

Lori cringed. “Do I even want to know how much is in these accounts?”

“A lot more than that personal check.”

“This complicates everything. If the insurance company finds out about the foreign money—”

“It’s not mine.”

“They don’t know that.” Lori turned to the computer on her desk and started typing. “This is going to take some time.”

Gabi thought presenting this information was the right direction and would leave her with a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. She was wrong. “I can’t go to jail.”

“I don’t
think
it will come to that.”

There was safety in that. “We have to be as quiet as possible about this while we fix it.”

Lori was writing a note again. “
That
I can’t promise. When was the last time someone as high profile as you are was accused of fraud and it didn’t make the evening news?”

“I’m not high profile.”

Lori burst out laughing. “You’re married to one of the richest and most influential men in the world. You’re
so
high profile half the people out there will want to see you in jail out of jealousy, the other will assume you’re guilty and hiding other crimes that will land you in prison eventually.” Lori took her attention back to the computer and clicked a few buttons. The printer behind her desk sprang to life. “This would have been easier to fight if you weren’t married to Blackwell. A widowed socialite done wrong by her dead husband is a lot more sympathetic than the wife of a billionaire.”

Gabi went cold. “Do you think Hunter knew that?”

Lori raised a brow. “Did he know about the insurance policy . . . the accounts?”

Gabi didn’t answer and Lori shook her head. “Hunter didn’t get where he is by stupid luck.”

Even if he had known . . . things had changed.

Hadn’t they?

“He’s not as selfish as it seems.”

Lori scoffed.

“No, really,” Gabi defended him. “He’s with his lawyers right now working on the immediate removal of Hayden from his mother’s custody.”

“Taking a child from his mother. Sounds noble.” The sarcasm was rich on Lori’s tongue.