Part 19 (1/2)

Jordan's foolish, pompous a.s.s had bought into the lie that was him and owned it hook, line, and sinker. He truly believed that he was all his mother had promised him that he was. Edgar had no choice but to take some of the blame for the man that Jordan Tunson, now Gatewood, had become. After all, he'd orchestrated it himself, drawing the notes with his own hands because Julian was too love-struck and p.u.s.s.y-whipped by that country mouse in Blink, Texas, to see straight. But Lonnie Adebayo had Jordan by the b.a.l.l.s and he didn't even know it, because he was too busy playing king of the hill at Gatewood Industries, and at the house with his lovely, delusional wife.

”Is that right?” Edgar asked, finding it hard not to sound condescending.

Jordan looked curious. ”Are you drunk already, old man?”

Edgar raised his gla.s.s and smiled. ”Not yet, son. But I'm working on it.”

”Don't you think it's a little early?”

Edgar flagged the lovely Marci back over to the table.

She smiled at him and it warmed him all the way down to his toes. ”Another one?” she asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.

Edgar fell in love just like that. ”Please,” he said, smiling back at her. When she left, he looked at Jordan. ”If she asks me for my credit card, please remind me to give it to her.”

Jordan laughed. ”I don't think you're her type, Edgar.” He motioned his head across the room at a much more handsome, younger man sitting at the bar. ”He's a running back for Dallas, and the two of them have been locked on to each other since I sat down.” And then he laughed. ”Stick with Bridgette. At least you already know that she loves you for your money.”

If Edgar had had any qualms before about the conversation he had wanted to have with Jordan, he didn't have them anymore. Jordan's careless and sloppy a.s.s had no business doling out advice about women.

”Do you know why I told you about Dominga, Jordan?”

At the mention of her name, Jordan suddenly sat up, looked around the room in case someone heard Edgar say her name out loud, and leaned closer to Edgar. ”Let's talk about this somewhere else,” he suggested covertly.

Edgar found it amusing. ”Let's not.”

Jordan stared cautiously at him.

”It was a lesson on being thorough,” Edgar continued coolly. ”Maybe it's the lawyer in me, or maybe it's the reason I turned out to be a d.a.m.n good lawyer, but there is no greater a.s.set, in my experience, than being thorough. Nothing as pertinent as crossing all your T's and dotting every last I with finality. With Dominga I did those things.”

Jordan looked mortified. How dare he.

”You failed to cross your T's and dot your I's where Miss Adebayo was concerned,” he said, deadpan. ”Which is why I'm here.”

”You're here to hit on that young hostess and to drink too much, Edgar.”

”I'm here to tell you a story, Jordan. The same one I told her.” He took a deep breath before starting. ”Julian Gatewood loved nothing more than dipping his d.i.c.k into the sea that was Ida Green. It was a fascination I never understood because Ida Green was absolutely the most unremarkable, commonly sweet woman I have ever met.” She was a woman Edgar had made a conscious effort to forget, much in the way he'd tried to forget Dominga.

The expression on Jordan's face told Edgar that the boy had no idea that Edgar had known Ida. Edgar found himself suddenly relis.h.i.+ng the fact that he was about to tell Jordan something that would surely make him fall off out of that chair he sat in.

”I sat at her table and on many occasions ate food she prepared, and laughed and had a good time with my best friend, Julian, and for all intents and purposes, his family. It seemed that the only time he was ever really happy was when he was with Ida, and Julian was just a man, like any man, free of the stresses and obligations of being one of the richest men in the state of Texas.”

”You know Desi,” Jordan stated resentfully.

”I have always known her, son. I was there when she was born in the hospital, pacing the floors right alongside her daddy.”

There were no words to explain the expression that crossed Jordan's face. But Edgar could imagine the bomb exploding inside him.

”Lonnie Adebayo found out all she needed to about my Dominga, Jordan,” he said unemotionally. ”And I'm too d.a.m.ned old to spend even a night in prison.”

”You've spoken to Lonnie?” Jordan asked, stunned. Edgar sat silent. ”What did you tell her, Edgar?

”What do you think?”

”You told Lonnie that Julian was Desi's father?” he asked, clenching his teeth. ”Is it true?”

”Every bit the truth, son. Just like it's true that he's not your father. I'm the only reason the world doesn't know either of those truths. Julian would've hated me if he knew what I'd done, but I did it for his own good and the good of Gatewood Industries and its name. I did it because he was a stupid fool, just like you.”

Jordan reminded Edgar of a bullet loaded into a gun. He looked about ready to shoot out of his chair, aimed right at Edgar.

”You've underestimated that woman. She wanted you looking the other way so that she could do what she really came here to do, which is to set you up.”

”How?” he asked angrily.

”I have no idea how. But if I was a betting man, I'd put every dime I had on her,” Edgar burst out laughing.

If I Had No Greed Too Big ”Keep your mouth shut,” Frank's new lawyer told him. Alex Richards was his name, a slippery white dude with oil-slick black hair, dark eyes, and a nose that reminded Frank of a hawk. ”Stick close to home, and make sure you have your phone on at all times in case I need to contact you.”

Frank was no fool. This cat cost money, big money that Frank sure as h.e.l.l didn't have. ”Who hired you?” he asked, as the man pulled his car up in front of a run-down motel off Cotton's main drag.

”They'll be watching you,” he continued coolly. ”I wouldn't put it past them to put a wire tap on your phone. Your ex-partner is still in their custody, and they'll no doubt use her to try to get to you. If she calls, and she will, just know that they're listening, so hang up, and then call me. Understood?”

Frank nodded.

The man handed Frank a room key with the number 322 on the tag. ”I'll be in touch.” That was his signal to get out of that man's Lexus.

He stood there and watched the smoke gray car pull out of the parking lot and turn the corner. Frank didn't know if he should jump up and down for joy or run off into the woods somewhere and hope to G.o.d n.o.body, especially that dude, ever found him.

After he showered, Frank finally had a chance to look at his cell phone. He had at least twenty calls on that d.a.m.n thing, some from Colette before he was arrested, but most were from Lonnie. Maybe she was the one who got him this high-priced lawyer. The last week had been a whirlwind for Frank, and he really didn't feel like talking to anybody, but if she'd done this for him, then he at least owed her a thank-you.

”Are you alright?” she asked, as soon as she answered the phone.

He rubbed the burn from his eyes, and sighed. ”I take it you saw what went down on the news?”

”No. It's not being broadcast at the state level, but I did see it on the Internet. Where are you?”

”At a motel in town.”

”Cotton?”

”Yeah. I'm out on bail but I can't leave the city.”

”So, you did manage to get bailed out?”

If she hired that lawyer, then she had to have been the one to bail him out too.

”I don't know how you did it, Lonnie, but I appreciate it.”

”It wasn't a problem, Frank.”

”And that lawyer- That dude's scary, girl. Where'd you find him?”