Chapter Thirty-Four
“He tried to kill himself?” Bev trembled as she leaned into him. Her mind raced. She needed to speak to Ma. Make sure everyone was okay.
“He’s still alive, according to Tracy. He suffered a single gunshot wound to the chest, apparently self-inflicted. He left his confession in a note found next to him. Serena knew nothing about this. Tracy said he made that clear in the confession.”
“Where was he found?”
“Hotel room in Plymouth,” he said. “Housekeeping found him, and the FBI was outside, watching his movements related to your case. They were able to airlift him.”
“And the nurse?” The poor woman didn’t deserve to die, even if she had betrayed her grandfather’s trust.
“They haven’t found her body.” He stroked her back. She welcomed the warmth. “He left instructions on where to look.”
“God, that’s gruesome.” She shook her head, trying to get it out of her mind. “What else?”
“Nothing. I asked Tracy to call me when she knows John’s condition.”
She sighed. She needed to make calls. Check on Serena and the rest of the family was the first priority. Then she had to deal with the business. The stock price was going to take a hit, and she should get ahead of the press to stem the bleeding.
Finn interrupted her thoughts. “Do you want to make some calls?”
“Yeah, I’ll do that now.” She made her way to the bedroom. She put on clothes and called Megan, her ma, and Tracy. She had to leave Tracy a message and apologized for not answering when she’d first called. When she went back out to the living room, he was finishing a call of his own.
“Look, I called Liam Gallagher and gave him a heads-up after I spoke to Tracy. I asked him to start drafting his ideas on how to deal with any legal issues that might crop up because of this. The will is rock solid, but John’s shares in Winslow Holdings move to Serena if he dies. And I don’t know how she is going to play this. You’ll want to do damage control. I can suggest a PR agency if you aren’t confident your in-house people can handle the issue.”
“I have plenty of confidence in my staff.” She went into his bedroom and quickly grabbed her shoes.
He followed. “What are you doing?”
She tossed his shirt on the bed. “You just said I needed to do damage control.” She walked past him toward the kitchen, grabbed her phone from the island. She texted Len to come and get her.
“You need to eat something. Just let me get you some food. You don’t have to do anything tonight. I can make some calls, and then we can drive up to Maine. Tracy says this is going to wrap up the investigation as far as the FBI is concerned, but I still think you should keep up the security on your family until we decide what’s best.”
She slapped a hand on the counter. “That’s it.”
“What?”
“You don’t get to handle this for me.” The fact she knew he was trying to help mattered little. No one was taking over her life.
“I’m not trying to handle anything. I’m helping.”
“You contacted Liam Gallagher without my permission.”
“I thought you’d have enough to do, and I’m a lawyer, so I called another lawyer so you didn’t have to. It wasn’t a hardship.”
“You aren’t my lawyer, though.” Her pulse screamed in her ears. He was acting as if she was crazy. “You are not going to steamroll me into handling this your way. It’s my life, my decisions.”
“No one could steamroll you into any decision. I was simply trying to help someone I love get through a difficult time.”
“Without consulting me? Now who’s like my grandfather? Maybe you spent too much time with him, if this is how you help. I should have been told before you talked to my attorney and before you decided when I should drive to Maine. Oh, and how long exactly do you plan for me to keep my extra security, or were you planning on going over my head with Len as well? Do I get a vote?”
“You’re upset, and you’ve a right to be.”
“Don’t patronize me. You’re fixing a situation I can handle on my own.”
“And you’re comparing me to two men I have nothing in common with because you’re scared.”
She swallowed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I am not Chuck Devon or Reginald Winslow. I am not taking over or forcing you into something you don’t want. You aren’t your mother. Stop blurring lines.” He never raised his voice. She admired his control but had to fight for her right to do things her way.
“I’m pointing out the situation here could have been handled better by you, and now you’re trying to psychoanalyze me. Blurring lines? That’s hysterical coming from someone who just called my attorney without my permission.” She searched for her purse. Her phone vibrated. Len must be waiting outside.
“I’ll apologize for not asking you first. That was wrong. Trying to resolve things quickly is my default.”
“My default is going it alone.”
“Noted. Which is why I am not apologizing for saying you are bringing your past into this simple misunderstanding.”
She found her bag, slung it over her shoulder. “First of all, my grandfather taking over my life is not an issue from the past; it started only three months ago. I’m dealing. Pretty damn well, given the circumstances.”
“I agree.”
“Chuck Devon? Sure, I’ll give you that one. I’ve got some knots there I’ve yet to loosen. But it doesn’t make me wrong and it doesn’t make this just a simple misunderstanding. There is nothing simple about what is going on between us. And right now, I need to keep things simple.” She walked out the door.
****
Monday afternoon brought dreary rain and unseasonable early-June cold to Boston. As she stared out of her office windows, she thought the weather matched her mood.
Since Saturday night when she’d left his apartment, things hadn’t gotten easier. She’d called Ms. Garrett first, knowing her assistant would round up the right people for the jobs she needed done. She then called Reggie. Her mother seemed fine, although she stubbornly refused to believe John would do this. Bev shook her head. Of course her mother would think the best of people who didn’t deserve it.
She spent Sunday in the temporary war room they had set up in one of the conference rooms at Winslow Holdings. The team hammered out the plan of attack to keep things calm for the employees and shareholders.
That morning, she suffered through another press conference. She almost wished they asked the invasive, personal questions she normally got from the press. Instead, the focus was on stock price and who would replace John Hamilton in the event of his death or if the allegations were true, and he was convicted. She and her team decided the best answer for questions like those was “Due to the nature of the ongoing investigation, I am unable to answer at this time.”
The truth was much harder. Serena would inherit John’s board seat whether he had tried to kill Bev or not. Unfortunately, there was nothing anyone could do about that. The intercom buzzed, interrupting her thoughts.
Mrs. Garrett’s voice came across the speaker. “Mr. Callahan is on the line. He says you aren’t answering your cell phone.”
“Put him through.” She picked up her office phone. “Hello.”
“Beverly, I know you’ve been avoiding me, and I want to apologize again.”
She played with the pen on her desk. “It’s been crazy here. I’m sorry for not picking up.”
“I saw the press conference. You looked so in command. I can’t imagine anyone is worried over there anymore.”
“Everyone seems calm except me. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“I hate to be the bearer of the dropping shoe, but Tracy just called me and said she told you they are launching an investigation into John’s business dealings to make sure they are on the up-and-up. That’s going to make things tricky for you for a while. I’m really sorry.”
She dropped her head to her blotter and almost laughed. Bad news traveled fast. “I know. She called me earlier and explained the process. That is an anchor I don’t need right now.”
“I figured. I just wanted to offer help—if you need it. You said once more heads are better.”
“Thanks. How is John? Did she say? When I spoke to Tracy earlier there was no change.”
“Still in a coma. When they know anything, she’s supposed to call us both.”
“I have twelve weeks to replace him, so that’s something. We can function without him on the board, but I’d like to get this resolved before then.”
“Of course. Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I appreciate it, though.” Why was this so awkward? He’d brought up their argument on Saturday and had apologized. Should she? She hated not knowing how to act.
“Please let me know. I want to help. Speaking of helping a little too much…I am sorry for the other night, and I don’t want to pressure you right now. But when you have time, I’d like to talk about it.”
“Finn, it’s fine. I’m sorry, too.” Tears stung her eyes, but she pushed them back. This had to be done. She sucked in a breath. “I think things got a little out of hand between us anyway. This is a good time to take a break.” She willed her voice not to crack. She’d get over this. Her feelings would only deepen if she kept seeing him. She couldn’t allow it.
“I don’t understand.”
Her heart would not come out of this unscathed. “I just need time.”
“I don’t want to push you right now. You’ve been through enough, but I’m not giving up on us. Call me when you’re ready to see me. I love you.”
The phone clicked off. She dropped her head again and let the tears flow.
The intercom buzzed again, and she grabbed a tissue. She couldn’t do this right now. She had work to do, which was the reason she had broken it off with him in the first place. She got herself together and answered. “Yes, Ms. Garrett?”
“We just received a phone call from the union rep in Plymouth at the fishery Mr. Hamilton was buying. He said he’s pulling out of the deal unless he talks to you personally. He wants assurances his people are taken care of.”
Perfect. “When does he want to meet?”
“Today.”
“It’s four o’clock. Unless he’s here already, he’ll never get through Boston traffic.”
“No, he wants you to come to them.”
“Of course he does.” She rolled her eyes. “Did he mention where and when?”
“There is a meeting tonight in their headquarters in Plymouth at seven. If you leave now, you should just make it.”
“Call him back and tell him I’m on my way.”
“I’ll text your driver and let him know to be downstairs.”
“I’ll be down in ten minutes.”