Troubles in Paradise (Paradise #3)(79)
“I can’t speak for Russ,” Marilyn says, “but I think some men get a thrill out of leading a double life. I’m sure Russ was sick with guilt most of the time. But there was also probably a rush or a high from…pulling it off. I think it made him feel superhuman.”
Irene presses her fingers into her temples. “This is what I can’t reconcile,” she says. “At home, he was…the same. We had more money, yes, and we both changed because of that. We bought the Church Street house, we bought new cars, we ate out all the time, we donated to local causes, we set the boys up to succeed. But as people, we stayed the same. I worked at a magazine and oversaw the house renovation. Russ…he was exactly the same. Corny. Goofy. He could be insufferable with his earnest enthusiasm. The money didn’t make him sophisticated…or smug…or self-congratulatory. But neither did he seem like a man who was racked with guilt. He did make the occasional grandiose gesture—he hired a plane to fly a happy-birthday banner when I turned fifty; he would send me lavish bouquets. But I thought he was doing these things because he could. Because he loved me. He felt bad about being away so much, and he apologized about this the normal amount, but he never overplayed his hand. He never seemed tortured. So what can I think but that he was a complete sociopath?”
Marilyn says, “I met Russ a handful of times in my capacity as office manager. He was always so…guileless, so genuine. Every time I talked to him, I felt sorry for him. He didn’t belong in business with my husband. He was a sheep running with wolves.”
“You’ll forgive me for saying this, but Russ was neither guileless nor genuine. You knew he had a second family. There was no reason to feel sorry for him.”
Marilyn stares at Irene. “Of course you’re right. I just wanted you to know that he was…different from the other two. He was a nice person.”
“Nice,” Irene says. “But a wolf just the same.”
“Maybe deep down I knew he wouldn’t survive this,” Marilyn says. “Todd is ruthless. He’s greedy, and I’m not talking about money. He wants control, he wants power, he wants…domination. That’s what led us here. Russ, I think, was more than happy to let Todd pull the puppet strings. But Stephen wasn’t. Stephen realized that Todd was taking more than his share of the profits, and Stephen feared he wasn’t as protected as he needed to be. The danger in any entity with three principals is that when one side of the triangle weakens, another is reinforced. Stephen did the predictable thing and cozied up to Russ. Russ was already having a crisis of conscience about the despicable people whose money they were laundering. They were working with a Russian company who moved assault rifles—big, big money—but there was that rash of school shootings in the States, as I’m sure you’ll remember, and in several cases, the illegal guns could be traced back to our client. It was a tense time, and there were some uncomfortable inquiries into that client. Nothing came of it, but Russ and Stephen took advantage of the scare to say they wanted out. Before they talked to Todd, they both came to see me. Russ was first. He visited my office in Miami in early September.”
September, Irene thinks. End of summer, beginning of fall, students returning to the university, football games on Saturdays, Go, Hawks!
“He told me he was ready to retire; he wanted to go home to Iowa and be with you. The house you’d been renovating for years was finally finished and he wanted to enjoy it—throw parties, host holidays. He wanted to spend time with his mother, who was quite elderly. He wanted to travel to Denver to help his younger son manage the outdoor-supply stores. He wanted to fly to Houston to see his grandson. He’d had a wonderful run in the Virgin Islands, he said, and he was grateful for all Ascension had given him, but it was time for him to return home.”
Irene can’t believe it but her immediate thoughts are What about Rosie? What about Maia? Was he just going to leave them behind?
“I told him that wasn’t possible. I told him he was too deeply vested in the company to just walk away. I told him the smartest thing to do was not to breathe a word of what he’d shared with me to Todd. I told him to protect his assets and protect you.”
September was when Russ made his new will, changing the executor from Todd Croft to Irene. Irene is the only person I trust to do the right thing, he’d said.
“Russ listened to my advice but Stephen did not. He went to Todd and turned it into a test of wills. He said both he and Russ wanted out. He said there was nothing Todd could do to stop them. Todd was…furious. He pointed out that both Russ’s and Stephen’s fingerprints were all over incriminating deals, and if they left, Todd would go to the authorities. To his credit, Stephen called Todd’s bluff. He didn’t think Todd would sacrifice the company. He wrote up sophisticated NDAs and presented them to Todd, and, at that point, Todd changed his tack and said, ‘Fine, you sign the NDAs, you can walk away.’”
Irene’s breathing is shallow. She knows what’s coming. She knows this is the end. She should stop Marilyn now; she doesn’t need to hear any more. Marilyn can tell it all to the FBI, that’s fine, but Irene doesn’t want to hear the truth spoken. “Marilyn.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Marilyn says. “Now?”
“Is there any way…I’m just afraid…” She’s thinking of Baker and Cash. And Floyd. Ayers and the baby. She can’t put them in danger just because she wants to hear how the story ends. Furthermore, she already knows how it ends.