Mr. CEO(128)

I sit back, waiting the few minutes before turning on the Miami local stations. I'm tapped into the satellite feed each station has with their national desks, and I see that it's the Fox affiliate who gets the feed up first.

“Breaking news from our crime desk. The FBI and Miami-Dade police have found within our city a man who, for the past ten years, everyone thought was dead. Fox's Billie Wagner is on the scene with more.”

The scene cuts from the studio to a news van outside the apartment complex where my parents live. The on-site reporter, a kind of young guy maybe a few years older than me, looks like he's halfway scared out of his mind, probably because until this point he's only done human interest stories, kissed puppies, and played with children for the morning show. Billie just strikes me as that sort of guy.

“Yes guys, I'm outside this apartment just south of the University, where an amazing story has come to light. It seems that this man...” the screen cuts to an ID photo of my father, “who for the past ten years has lived and worked in the Miami area under the name Michael Ball, is in fact not who he seems to be.”

It continues, but I've seen enough. I turn off the feed and pull out my phone. Tapping quickly, I send a text to Nathan.

Has Jackson come home yet?

No, but I think he'll be here soon, maybe within a half hour. I've prepared the way as best I can. Why?

It just went down in Miami. He doesn't have a lot of time before Peter knows something's up.

I understand. I'll inform him, make it seem like I got a call. He'll let the gates open here.

Thanks. Take care of him, Nathan. And deliver my message.

I will. Thank you for your mercy.

You have more accounts to balance than just ours. Consider it a gift if Jackson comes out safe. If he doesn't...

I understand. I'll text you when it's done.

I hang up the messages with Nathan and sit back. There's nothing I can do now, except hope that whatever powers have watched over me the past ten years can watch over Jackson now.

Another idea comes to mind, and I make another call, this one to Andrea.

“Hello?”

“It's me. I know voice communication is dangerous, but I don't have a lot of time. It just went down in Miami, and I have one more idea I just had. This one... this one's for Jackson.”

Andrea sounds suspicious, but hums. “What do you need?”

“I want to get every cent I can from Peter DeLaCoeur. For Jackson. Can you help me?”

Andrea laughs, and I realize she and I have had similar mindsets all along. “You're a little late. I've already been doing it. Give me fifteen minutes and you'll have the number and passcode to a numbered account in the Bahamas. It's one of his smaller ones, but it's all I've been able to verify.”

I smile, thinking about just how generous Andrea's being. “And you?”

“I've got my own plans in place. I don't think we'll be seeing each other again. It was nice to spend some time together, my friend.”

I hum, thinking that I regret not taking the time to get to know her better. She's a remarkable young woman, but she has her own mission to complete. “I hope that someday, maybe after you've found your own completion... I hope we can see each other again.”

“That'd be nice, but we'll see. I'll keep in touch with you electronically at least. Take care, Katrina.”

“You too, Andrea.”

So the die is cast. I just have to wait, and see how it finally falls.





Chapter 27





Jackson





It's been over a month since I've seen the plantation house, and as I walk up the long driveway from the street, I'm surprised at how unfamiliar it feels. I took a taxi and Nathan told me that if I needed, my Audi was at home for me to get away. A nice option, but I'm not sure if I agree with it.

A few of the staff react with surprise when I walk up, but Nathan is the first to greet me, coming down the wooden steps of the porch. “Your father is out back, near the pool, with a young lady as his company,” Nathan says quietly. “And I got a call. The police arrested Sam Grammercy about a half hour ago.”

I nod and pull out my phone. I dial Darcy, who picks up quickly. “Yes?”

“Open the gates,” I tell her in a flat voice, my emotions so roiling that I'm not able to put any sort of inflection in my speech at all. “Open them wide.”

I hang up before she can reply, and go inside to the foyer. I look around, but the place is pretty much deserted already. “My mother?”

“Upstairs, drunk and passed out. Andrea is in the library.”

I nod. “Inform her what I just did, and then tell any staff who don't want to deal with the cops to get the hell outta here. I'm going to go have a chat with Peter.”

Nathan nods, but doesn't move. “What?”

He looks like he's about to say something, but instead pats me on the shoulder. “De Oppresso Liber. Free the oppressed. For too long, I betrayed that motto,” he says instead. “Thank you for reminding me what right and wrong are.” I nod and pat him in return.

“Thank you, Nathan. Now let's go do what we need to do.”

I leave the foyer and cut through the dining room out to the pool area, where I see Peter sitting in a lounge chair next to a picnic table, his gut hanging out over the waistband of his ridiculous Speedos. It’s definitely swimwear that might look appropriate on me, but not on a man over fifty and carrying the extra weight he is.