Chapter Thirty-One
Bev jumped out of her chair. “Are you serious?”
“I’m not sure it gets more conniving, Serena,” Reggie said. “Yet it doesn’t surprise me.”
The amused expression on her mother’s face surprised the hell out of Bev. She tried to steady her racing heart, blew out a breath and stifled the rage. “I’m surprised enough for the both of us.”
She made herself sit back down and gauge the reactions of those in the room. Both Finn and Tracy wore shocked expressions. Serena’s face ashen. Only Reggie appeared as if nothing in the world could bother her at this moment.
“Wait, why aren’t you surprised? Or mad?” she asked her mother.
“Because I got my baby girl out of it,” Reggie said. Tears welled in her mother’s eyes. “I wouldn’t change a thing, sweetheart. If you change one thing, you change everything. You were worth all of it.” She swallowed, and then turned to Serena. “It looks as if Serena was punished enough as it is. I believe her when she says she regrets it.”
“I do,” Serena said. “I’d never have done it if I had known the trouble it would bring. I didn’t think he’d do anything so extreme. And I was young and so jealous of you. Father loved you more. He only tolerated me.” She sniffed away tears. “I know he saw our mother in you, and it softened him toward you. God knows he was a hard man to please.” Serena reached for her blue handbag, drew out a handkerchief, and delicately dabbed her eyes and nose.
Bev had to shake her head to clear the swirling confusion. “So my grandfather disowns my mother for getting pregnant while unwed but leaves me his empire. He essentially cuts off Serena because he found out she paid Chuck but leaves twenty million and money for her kids. The man had to be insane.”
“Not insane, just complicated.” Finn sat on the arm of her chair. “In the short time I knew him, Reginald was intensely private and equally independent. He relied on no one. He wasn’t comfortable with even having attorneys, but he viewed us as essential. The reasons he did what he did to both his daughters will remain a mystery, but I think we can guess he was conflicted about his decisions.”
She wasn’t so sure Reginald was conflicted about any decision he made. The more she learned of him, the more he confused her. She wondered if she were really like him? Tracy interrupted her thoughts.
“What I want to know,” said Tracy, “is how did Reginald find out you hired Chuck Devon in the first place, Mrs. Hamilton?”
“I don’t know,” Serena said. “My father had his ways of knowing things.”
“It gives me new information but doesn’t really clear up why someone is threatening Bev’s life.” Tracy rose to pace the room. “It makes even less sense…unless you’re holding back something else, Mrs. Hamilton? How many other people know you tried to sabotage your sister’s life?”
“Well, that’s a rather ugly way of putting it.”
“I call things as I see them,” Tracy said.
Serena cleared her throat. “I never told a soul about what I did. Not even my husband. He’d be so disappointed in me.” Serena sounded almost like a child. “I wouldn’t want anyone to know.”
“If you hired Chuck before, would you consider hiring him again, this time to murder Beverly so you could get your hands on more of the Winslow fortune?” Tracy asked, and Serena gasped. Bev wasn’t expecting Tracy to be so direct.
“How dare you!” Serena stood, all dignity. “I am a Winslow. We don’t do murder for hire.”
Bev couldn’t help it, she started laughing. Serena turned on her. “What are you laughing at, young lady?”
“Sorry, Serena. The absurdity of this conversation just got to me. Winslows ‘don’t do murder for hire’ but they do hire lowlifes to impregnate would-be heiresses?”
“Of course not. Now you’re being absurd. I made a terrible mistake decades ago. I have regretted it every day, despite appearances. Perhaps I am too much like my father, and perhaps it is too late, but I am at least trying to make up for my mistake while I’m still alive, instead of from beyond the grave. I apologized and cooperated. I have absolutely nothing to do with what is happening to you, and I am sorry it is happening. I can’t do anything more to convince you.” Serena gathered her blue purse and dainty handkerchief and turned to Reggie.
“Regina, please give me a call when you are ready to have lunch. I would very much like to reconnect.” Serena looked at Beverly. “If you still want my help with the Winslow Foundation, you know how to reach me.” Pivoting to Finn and Tracy, she said, “I am offended by these accusations and am innocent of any wrongdoing. I expect to be off the suspect list and insist you make every effort to keep my niece safe.” With a nod, she strode toward the door. In the foyer, Serena said, “Conroy, my car, please.” Then she was gone.
Bev fell back against the couch. “That woman could have run Winslow Holdings blindfolded. Formidable is a mild way to describe her.”
Reggie leaned back next to her daughter. “She’s grown up a lot. I think she does mean to try, sweetheart,”
“How can you tell?”
Reggie laughed. “Easy. That was the first time I’ve ever heard her say please.”
****
“You have become obsolete in this game.”
Nervous sweat trickled down his neck and into his shirt collar. Despite the huge, drafty warehouse, all John Hamilton experienced was the hot stab of fear. Greed and idiocy had brought him to this place.
He’d partnered with the wrong person and now he was going to pay for it with his life. The best he could do was to buy some time. Swallowing the boulder size fear in his throat, he said, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, given the new information the lovely Beverly has unwittingly supplied, we are in a pickle. My plan to get her ousted by the board is moot. The FBI is looking in your direction now. They’ve already questioned Serena. They’re coming for you next. And, frankly, John, you can’t be trusted.”
The bile rose in his throat as terror took hold. How could he get out of this? “Of course you can trust me,” he said. “I can’t say anything about you without implicating myself. So we stick to the plan or come up with a new one!”
“I do have a new plan, John. Relax,” the smooth voice echoed in the giant space.
John took a breath and willed his pulse to slow. They could work this out. “What’s the plan? What can I do?”
“Take it easy. Something's already in motion.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ve killed your informant.”
“Jesus! Why? She wasn’t dangerous.”
“To tie up loose ends, of course,” his partner said. “If Reginald’s old nurse ever told anyone you paid her for information or that she tried to break into Finn Callahan’s office, it would get sticky for you.”
Fearing he might vomit, John nodded. He’d never wanted anyone to die. He’d just wanted to be CEO of Winslow Holdings. He had to convince his partner he was on board so he could escape.
“I understand. But aren’t you worried it can be traced back to you?”
“Not at all.” John’s partner offered a flick of the wrist. “Collateral damage. And I made it neat.”
“So what’s the rest of the plan?” he asked. “What can I do?”
“That’s very easy.”
John watched in horror as his partner raised a gun and walked toward him. “Wait! Don’t! You need me!”
“What I need is a scapegoat. And you’re it.”