Читать книгу Holding Out For A Hero - HelenKay Dimon - Страница 9

Josh eased back into a chair that proved to be as uncomfortable as it looked. It was wooden, with one thin cushion against the back—he guessed the damn thing cost more than his condo. Since it shook a bit under his weight, he tried not to move as he waited for the small Asian woman who answered the door to go find Deana.

Yeah, she had a maid. With all of Deana’s money, Josh didn’t know why that little fact surprised him, but it did. For some reason he missed that in his background check on her. She was not the only one who liked to poke around in other people’s business. He could play that game, too. Did it all the time.

From what he could tell, she left her property on rare occasions to attend charity events and a few social get-togethers. Otherwise she kept to herself and close to home. Seeing her place he understood why. Quiet and far from tourists and the hotels in Waikiki, her open-floor-plan, one-story house sat along Lanikai, long considered one of the best beaches in Hawaii. Possibly the world.

The area served as a private must-visit spot for presidents and movie stars. The stretch of sand was located on the windward or eastern side of the island of Oahu in the town of Kailua. About fifteen minutes and definitely a world of wealth away from the town where Derek lived. With pure blue water clear enough to see to the sandy bottom, soft trade winds, and surrounding palm trees, the spot looked like a Hollywood creation—too good to be true.

The inside of the house was as magazine-worthy as the outside. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the ocean and the two small uninhabited islands about a mile offshore. Beige couches were arranged in a large, high-ceilinged room to take advantage of the view. Glass shelves filled with expensive looking vases and various small crystal things filled the walls and kept him right where he was in the wobbly chair.

If he knocked anything over he’d be paying her back for years. And owing Deana anything was out of the question.

“Thank you for coming,” Deana said from behind him.

She didn’t need to speak. Even without the clicking of her heels against the koa wood floor and the sound of her deep voice, he knew she had walked in the room. Something about her set off a mental alarm in his brain. She came within ten feet and his insides switched to high alert.

He got up long enough to be polite before returning to the impractical chair. “Not as if I had much of a choice.”

“You’re prone to exaggeration.”

“Not usually.”

She sank into the only other chair in the room. It was one identical to his, but she looked completely right in the expensive seat. “Well, I find it hard to believe you felt threatened by me.”

He noted she wore an outfit similar to the one from the courthouse a few days earlier. She could have walked out of a Northeastern prep school. High collar with a cardigan. The only difference was the pair of dress pants instead of the skirt, which was a damn shame because the woman had a decent pair of legs on her.

“Guess you think eighty-two degrees is chilly.” As far as he was concerned, she was lucky he was wearing pants instead of shorts as he wanted to do.

“Excuse me?”

“The shrinking violet routine doesn’t suit you, by the way. Don’t forget, I’m the guy you tried to have fired a few years back.”

She had the grace to wince. “That’s in the past.”

Easy for her to say. “And the command performance this afternoon is our present.”

“Remember how I said you had a problem with exaggerating?”

“Nice place, by the way,” he said in what likely was the biggest understatement of his life. He tried to look around and almost tipped the chair over.

A smile skimmed Deana’s lips. “You don’t look very comfortable.”

Probably because he was folded in a pretzel and afraid of shifting an inch in any direction. “Your maid showed me in and pointed to this.”

“She’s not a maid, and you can sit on one of the sofas.” Her gaze traveled all over him. “You look a little…tight there.”

Before he could come up with a smart reply, and he was sure there was one kicking around his head somewhere, the elder Mrs. Armstrong came into the room. The addition to the crowd gave him a reason to get up and shift seats. Not like he had to wait for Deana’s permission or anything.

“Mr. Windsor.” Georgianna Armstrong approached him with her hand held out and a smile plastered across her regal-looking face.

She appeared warm and lovely and eager to see him.

He knew that was a big fat lie.

Mrs. Georgianna Armstrong, Deana’s mother, was in her early sixties. Graceful, highly respected in the community…and Josh didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. Since the woman probably weighed about a hundred pounds, Josh knew he could get her airborne without much of a push. Still, he had dealt with this woman and with her type his entire career at the DEA. She attended charity functions one day and plotted the demise of her enemies the next. She used money to get her way and scoffed when people—any people—failed to jump at her command.

And the woman had a crapload of money. She could trace her family back to the early Europeans who came to the islands to take advantage of the locals and pillage the land. As far as Josh could tell, her family never broke with that habit. Her grandfather and then her father bought up some of the most desired property in Oahu not already owned by the state and a few other landowners.

The family continued to own a great deal of commercial property today, stretching all along the water in Honolulu and Waikiki. Hotels, business, high-rises—if someone had built it, they probably first bought or leased the land from Mrs. Armstrong’s family.

The family’s ownership reached to residential streets as well. Up until twenty years ago most people in Oahu owned their homes but not the ground underneath. At some point Georgianna Armstrong, then the young heir to the real estate empire, offered the land to the leaseholders at a price. The homeowners became landowners and Mrs. Armstrong and her now-deceased husband became even richer rich people.

“It’s good to see you again,” the older woman said as she folded Josh’s hand in both of hers.

“It is?”

“Why, of course.” Mrs. Armstrong gestured toward the empty chair across from Deana, but Josh remained standing. “We are so pleased you decided to join us today.”

He glanced at Deana, who looked anything but pleased. She frowned, watching her mother like she was some sort of science experiment gone wrong.

“Mother, Mr. Windsor hasn’t said why he’s here,” Deana explained.

Probably because he had no idea why he was there. He was not the type to arrive when summoned. But there was something about Deana. He wanted to peel away all of that money and exterior chilliness and see what was underneath. He suspected it was nothing more than a second layer of ice.

Maybe it was the overabundance of sunshine and fresh air. Maybe it was his inclination to hang around Derek’s house instead of going home to his own. For whatever reason, Josh remained on Oahu, and Oahu was Armstrong turf. Better to come to the mountain than have the mountain crash on top of him.

The elder Mrs. Armstrong crossed her legs in an elegant move straight out of an expensive etiquette class. “We are all friends here—”

Oh, hell no. “Not exactly.”

Deana cleared her throat. “I would agree with Mr. Windsor that friendship is a little much to expect at this point.”

Deana did not raise her voice, but the warning lingered in there. One her mother obviously had no intention of heeding.

“Well, I don’t see any reason we can’t use first names,” Mrs. Armstrong said.

He had a few things in mind, but stuck with his initial plan to get in and out fast. Didn’t even bother to sit back down. “Why don’t you tell me what you want so I can say no and we can all go our separate ways?”

Mrs. Armstrong’s smile faltered. “I thought Deana already explained this to you.”

Deana shifted, taking up a position much like her mother’s. “Mr. Windsor turned me down.”

The older woman waved her hand as if physically dismissing the words. “Certainly he’s come to his senses by now.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Deana said.

For once he agreed with Deana. “You should listen to your daughter on this.”

“I am too old and this is too important to play games, Mr. Windsor.”

He smothered a chuckle over the elder woman’s abrupt tone. “I thought we were using first names.”

Mrs. Armstrong sat up even straighter with a pile of pillows stacked behind her. “My grandson needs assistance. You are the man for the job. Furthermore, we can pay you handsomely for your time. This is a simple business transaction. One that could benefit you.”

Josh pointed at Deana. “She tried that, too. I wasn’t interested then. Not interested now.”

Mrs. Armstrong looked to Deana as if seeking assistance before turning back to Josh. “That’s nonsense. Who turns down money?”

Josh refused to back down from the older woman’s staring contest. If she wanted a battle he’d give her one. Being retired from the DEA meant he no longer had to weigh his words, to the extent he ever did. “Haven’t we played this game before? Is this the part where you throw your money around and start issuing threats?”

“What does that mean?” Deana asked with enough shock in her voice to suggest she didn’t actually know.

Josh tried to figure out whether or not the confusion was an act. “Your mother has already engaged in bribery, blackmail, and various other illegal acts relating to me.”

Deana’s entire face pinched. “That’s a serious accusation.”

“They’re actually called crimes.” When Deana continued to look confused, Josh explained. “Your mother tried to pay me off so I wouldn’t testify in Ryan’s original drug trial. If I remember right, she offered piles of cash and made numerous promises about my future career. Something about me becoming a supervisor, as if that’s anything I’d ever want.”

“This is irrelevant,” Mrs. Armstrong said in a haughty tone.

No, it wasn’t, which was why Josh kept talking. “When that didn’t work, she talked about ruining my reputation if I took the stand and said something other than what she wanted me to say. I believe getting me fired was just the start of the threats.”

Deana stood up. “What?”

The older woman gestured to Deana to retake her seat. “Calm down. He turned me down on the money, and that last part was a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, I understood you just fine.” Drug dealers had tried to intimidate him and still hadn’t been as furious or convincing in their attempts as Georgianna Armstrong had.

Deana held her ground against her mother’s flippant attitude. “You actually tried to bribe him?”

Josh finally sat down again to watch the by-play between the two women. The show seemed too good to miss. Deana’s usual unruffled demeanor strained around her mother. Deana had shown more emotion in the past two minutes than Josh had seen in the months since he’d met her. Being in private instead of in public could account for the change, but he figured it had more to do with the mother-daughter dynamic.

By his experience, when two strong-willed women came in contact only one could win. Looked like the older, more experienced version took this round. Josh waited for the mother to take over, start issuing orders, and flash her big wallet around. One sign of any of that behavior and he was headed for the door.

Deana regained her composure and unclenched her teeth. “Your refusal to accept my mother’s offer is exactly the reason you are perfect for this job.”

Deana lowered her voice to normal levels even as she dug her fingers into her pants legs as if the ground was sinking beneath her feet and the fabric was the only thing saving her from falling down. In the strain around her eyes and mouth, it was clear holding on to that cool demeanor proved to be a struggle.

Looked like he underestimated Deana. She was not about to sit there and be quiet.

Score one for the younger Armstrong.

“I’m listening,” he said even though he really wasn’t.

Deana did not cede the floor to her mother. “The police trust you. You have connections and respect among your peers. Your reputation is solid.”

Josh wondered when they’d moved to the obvious and false flattery portion of the program. “No thanks to your family.”

“People will listen to you when you say Ryan is innocent. You can cut through the years of red tape and get the prosecutor to listen.” The way Deana talked over him proved she wasn’t willing to turn over control to him, either.

Josh appreciated the position the family was in. The precious baby, the next generation, struggled to live up to the polish and propriety of the older generations. The story was not all that original. Ryan got in with the wrong crowd, dabbled in drugs, and believed he was entitled to everything. He traded on his family name and depended on the same people he claimed to hate to get him out of his current predicament.

Still, the boy killed his parents. Not out of fear. Out of greed. Josh didn’t want any part of putting a kid like that back out in society.

“What if Ryan isn’t innocent?” Josh asked.

“Do you really think your insults can deter me?” Mrs. Armstrong’s brittle voice rang through the silent room. “I have lost a husband, a son, a daughter-in-law, and I am inches away from forever losing a grandson to the court system.”

Deana glanced at her mother but did not go to her. Instead she focused on Josh. “And what if Ryan is innocent? What then?”

Josh didn’t want to think about that possibility. Didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else. Hell, he couldn’t keep his own life straight. How was he supposed to undo a valid jury verdict and a mountain of evidence against a kid he didn’t particularly like in the first place?

Deana stood up and walked past her mother to a table behind the couch. Picking up a file about two inches thick, Deana returned to stand in front of Josh. “Here.”

He knew what it was. Touching it would signal agreement and no way was he going there. “I don’t want it.”

“You’re newly retired.”

“Following me again? I thought we talked about that”

“Reading the newspaper.” She dropped the file on his lap. More like shoved it at him. “This will give you some light reading while you’re trying to figure out what to do with your life.”

Somehow the chair remained upright under the extra weight. He was sure that feeling would also soon return to his upper thigh from where the rough corner jabbed him.

“How many ways can I tell you I’m not interested in your offer?” he asked.

“That’s your copy. Do whatever you want with it.”

What he wanted was to get the hell out of there. “If that’s all…”

Deana nodded. “It is.”

He took one last look at the tumbling waves right outside her back door, wishing he were surfing or anywhere else, and stood up.

He made a show of leaving the folder on his chair. “No thanks.”

Deana grabbed his sleeve as he started to walk away. Rather than fight her, he let his body be pulled around to face her, then he exhaled as loud as possible to let her know his frustration. Nothing else seemed to work, so he thought he’d try the new tack.

She thanked him for that courtesy by sticking the folder in his gut. “Take it.”

Something in her face, in those sad eyes, got to him. Instead of arguing, he grabbed the file. Fine. He could abandon it in his office at home or shred it later. Right now he just wanted out before he did something dumb.

Deana followed Josh to the door and shut it behind him. “About time.”

“What an awful man.” Her mother’s words dripped with distaste.

Deana walked back into the family room and sat down. Inside, she seethed. “You could have told me you once tried to blackmail and bribe him.”

“Oh, please. You tried to find evidence with which to ruin his credibility on the stand.” Georgianna fixed the brooch on her short-sleeve sweater. “I hardly see the difference.”

There was one. Deana was sure of it. The other option, that she was just like her mother in shoving people around to get her way, was not a pleasant one, so Deana pushed it right out of her mind. Her mother was a good woman, but when she was threatened the claws came out. Georgianna Armstrong knew how to use her place in society to her advantage.

Deana knew she had slipped in the past and shown signs of those traits. She vowed never to again…right after Ryan was freed.

“And I still don’t see what’s wrong with using resources if you’re lucky enough to have them,” her mother mumbled.

“Either way, I think we’re finally moving in the right direction,” Deana said.

Georgianna’s head popped up, but her fingers stayed on the pin. “What on earth are you talking about? He turned us down.”

“Well, that’s what he said, but you’re missing my point.”

“Clearly.”

“He came here today. He didn’t have to do that. He showed up because he’s going to help.” Deana felt that reality straight down to her toes.

Her mother folded her hands on her lap. “I don’t mean to question your knowledge of the male mind, but—”

Deana stopped that line of thinking before her mother launched into a lecture on men. “He felt as if he was summoned. His ego rebelled and he got defensive. I put him in a position where I held the power. Under those circumstances he couldn’t just say yes.”

“Sure he could.”

“He has to fight me a little more.”

“I think you are giving this Mr. Windsor a good deal more credit for possessing depth than he actually deserves.”

Deana refused to believe that was true. “He’s the right man for the job. He’ll realize it soon enough.”

“I would remind you that he just lost his job over a scandal.”

“Have you read the paper? Everyone believes he walked out of that hearing and the DEA in protest. Law enforcement all side with Josh. Public opinion is on his side. If anything, his reputation for integrity is even more solid now than it was before the hearing began.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” And Deana vowed to keep saying it until she won Josh over.

“Frankly, I don’t see anything positive about him.”

“Coming here instead of calling or just plain ignoring me proves he’s going to help once he adjusts to the idea.” At least that was the theory. Deana just hoped Josh would see it the same way.

“You act as if we can afford to wait around for this man to come to his senses.”

They could. That was the unfortunate truth at work here. “Ryan isn’t going anywhere.”

Her mother’s shoulders slumped. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“But it’s true.”