Hot Money (11 page)

Just like in the movies, the man whipped an official-looking envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. He turned on his heel and fled down the hall before she could even scan the return address.

“What is it, Mom?”

With her heart suddenly thudding, Molly gave Brian a distracted glance. “Go and finish getting ready for school.”

“I am ready.”

“Get your books.”

“I don’t see why—”

“Just do it, Brian. Now!”

His expression hurt, he slunk off, leaving her with no more excuses to avoid opening the letter from Hal’s attorney, a senior partner in the firm that sprawled over two entire floors of a downtown office building.

The usual salutation was followed by a terse announcement.

The letter went on with legal jargon and what looked at first glance like an outline of the timetable for this action. Molly didn’t read it. The first sentence had made her blood run cold. The second made it boil. She was shaking as she punched in Hal’s office number, knowing he would be there even though it was barely 8:00
A.M
.

“How dare you?” she demanded the instant he picked up his private line. “Have you lost your mind?”

“You got the letter.”

“You’re damn right I got the letter and if you want a war with me over our son, you’ve got it,” she said, her furious words tumbling out uncensored. It was not the way to win an argument with Hal, but she was too angry to care. “I will not allow you to use this sudden, misguided concern for his welfare to snatch him away from me.”

“Oh, really?” he said.

Molly ignored the sarcasm. “What exactly do you intend to do once you have him, Hal? Will you occasionally try to get home from the office before midnight to help him with his homework? Will you see to it that the maid takes him to Pizza Hut once a week? Will you hire someone to go to his soccer games in your place? Goddammit, what are you thinking of? Don’t you give a damn about his feelings? He’s an eight-year-old boy, not some pawn in a goddamn chess game. If you’re angry with me, take it out on me, not Brian.”

“I will not talk to you when you’re out of control like this,” he said.

Since he sounded almost satisfied by her loss of temper, she drew in a deep breath, forcing herself—somewhat belatedly—to sound every bit as cool and rational as he did. “If you think this is out of control, pal, you haven’t seen anything yet. My lawyer will be in touch. I suggest you start now if you plan to manufacture a few excuses for the way you’ve ignored Brian for the past two years. Believe you me, it is not something he or I have forgotten.”

She slammed the phone down so hard the table shook. It took everything in her to keep from bursting into hot, angry tears of fear and frustration.

“Mom?” Brian said, his voice tentative.

Molly drew in yet another deep breath, then slowly turned to face him, praying he hadn’t heard everything. His terrified expression, freckles standing out against too pale skin, told her that he had. It nearly broke her heart.

“Dad’s not going to make me go live with him, is he?”

She saw no point in avoiding the truth. He’d have to know sooner or later. “He’s going to try,” she admitted.

“He’s tried before,” Brian said. “He came after me last time and tried to talk me into going with him, remember?”

“I remember.”

“Is this the same thing?”

Molly knew that this time it was no idle threat. Hal was dead serious. “No, it’s not the same,” she said gently, recalling Hal’s halfhearted attempts at persuading Brian to choose him over her in the past. “But it won’t happen, not unless it’s what you want. You’re old enough now that the judge will listen to you, if it comes to that.”

Brian was across the room in a heartbeat. He flung his arms around her neck and clung to her, his whole body shaking. “I won’t go with him. I won’t. I never want to see him again as long as I live. I hate him. I hate him.” His voice trailed off in sobs.

“Oh, baby,” Molly whispered, her own tears finally streaming down her face. What in God’s name was wrong with Hal that he could inflict this kind of pain on their son? “You won’t have to leave here. I promise.”

Admittedly, her promises didn’t have such a hot track record, but apparently Brian was reassured anyway. His tears finally ebbed. He slowly extricated himself from her embrace and gave her a wobbly grin. He was far calmer than her pat, clichéd words warranted.

“I don’t want you to worry about this,” she told him.

“I’m not worried, not anymore,” he said with admirable bravado.

“Why not?” she inquired suspiciously.

“Because I have an idea that will fix everything.”

“What idea?”

“If you married Michael,” he said slyly, “Dad wouldn’t be able to take me away, would he?”

Molly gaped at him. “Where on earth would you get an idea like that?”

“He likes you. I know he does. And he’s not married. It would solve everything, right?”

Marriage to Michael O’Hara might solve one problem, but Molly was smart enough to know that it would only be the start of a whole slew of new ones. She could hardly explain that to an eight-year-old. “Sorry, sport,” she said with some regret. “I think this is one problem we’ll have to sort out on our own.”

She hadn’t counted on the fact that Brian was like a terrier with a bone once he’d gotten an idea into his head. When her phone rang that afternoon the minute she walked in the door from work, she was hoping it would be her attorney with news that Hal had backed down. Instead the voice that greeted her bore a faint Cuban accent and a definite hint of laughter.

“I understand we’re getting married,” Michael said.

“Oh, dear Lord,” Molly murmured, blushing in embarrassment. “Brian called you.”

“He did. He was upset, but you should be proud of him. He wasn’t letting it get him down. He has a plan, a rather detailed one, in fact.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Michael’s tone sobered. “I think maybe the three of us ought to have dinner tonight and talk about this.”

“Michael, no. I can handle Brian.”

“I was thinking less about Brian, than I was about you and your ex-husband. What are you going to do about him, Molly?”

She sighed heavily. “I’ve spoken with the attorney. He’s trying to reason with Hal’s attorney, who happens to be one of his law partners.”

“I wasn’t aware that attorneys ever listened to reason.”

“I’m hoping for a first, for Brian’s sake.”

“I think you’ll need a tougher strategy than that. I have to interview some witnesses in one of my cases in about an hour, but I should be out of here by seven at the latest. Why don’t I pick you up? We’ll go for Italian at that place in South Miami that Brian likes.”

“Fine,” Molly agreed because she couldn’t think of one single reason not to go. If Michael wasn’t terrified by Brian’s marital scheme for the two of them, then it was silly to avoid him. Besides, she always thought more clearly when she talked things out with him. Maybe together they could formulate a sensible plan of action. His methodical, left-brain approach nicely complemented her own more instinctive reactions to things.

No sooner had she hung up than she heard a rap on the door, then Liza’s familiar voice, followed almost immediately by the sound of the key turning in her door. She regarded her in astonishment. Liza was rarely home this early from her various fund-raising efforts all over town. She had more meetings to twist arms than half a dozen CEOs combined.

“What brings you back from the fund-raising wars at this hour?” she asked.

“I have news to report.”

“Roger Lafferty is suspect number one in the murder of his wife.”

Liza’s face fell. “The hunk told you.”

“He did, but even if he hadn’t it was all over the paper this morning and on the TV and radio news all day. If you’d pay attention, you’d have known that.”

“I know enough about what’s going on in the world without letting the media bias me.”

Molly knew it was pointless to hike down that particular conversational trail again. Liza was stalwart in her refusal to subscribe to the papers or turn on a television. Despite that, Molly was always astounded by how well informed Liza was about the things that mattered to her.

“What happened to you last night?” Molly asked instead. “I expected you to report in the minute you got home.”

“Actually I went to that benefit dinner with Jason Jeffries. I was hoping to pry more information out of him.”

“Information or money?”

“Both, as a matter of fact.”

“Well?”

“He gave me a sizable donation.”

“And?”

“He didn’t tell me anything more than he apparently told Michael and Abrams. Roger got way over his head when he tried to take over some company in California. Tessa continued to spend money like there was no tomorrow. A few weeks ago he supposedly took out a new life insurance policy on Tessa, though nobody has actually seen said policy. Suspicion is that he intended all along to use the money to put his company back on a sound financial footing before the irritated stockholders ousted him, Jason being one of said stockholders.”

“What about Ted Ryan’s information that Roger planned to divorce Tessa?”

Liza shrugged. “Beats me. Either he got it wrong or that was an alternative plan, whereby he’d try to wrangle a chunk of her family money in a settlement.”

“Do you suppose Tessa had any family money left after all this time? I thought that was why she kept latching on to all these wealthy men, so she could take ‘em for a bundle in alimony. If she had her own money, wouldn’t that hurt her position in getting some kind of obscenely huge divorce settlement?”

“I have no idea what the workings of the court are when both parties in a marriage have money. I do know that Jason’s generous alimony ended on the day she married again. He told me that last night.”

Molly considered that. “I suppose Josie might know for sure what Tessa’s financial status was. She was pretty certain that her boss had provided for her in her will.”

“Wouldn’t it be a kick in the pants to Roger, if all that money from the life insurance was willed to the housekeeper?”

“I doubt Roger would have paid the premium under those conditions.”

“Unless he didn’t know about the will. Couldn’t that supersede the name on the policy?”

Molly shook her head. “I have no idea.”

“I know you and your ex aren’t the closest of friends, but he is an attorney. Couldn’t you call him and ask?”

The morning’s events came crashing back. “Absolutely not,” she said so vehemently that Liza simply stared.

“What’s Hal done now?” she said finally.

“He’s threatening to take me back into court to ask for custody of Brian.”

Liza jumped up, her expression instantly sympathetic. “Why didn’t you say something when I first walked in, instead of letting me go on and on about this ridiculous murder? What can I do to help?”

“There’s nothing to be done for the moment. The attorney’s handling it. Brian thinks he has a solution. He’s asked Michael to marry me.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Liza said, then a grin spread across her face. “Did the hunk say yes?”

“We’re all having dinner tonight to discuss it.”

“My, my.”

“Don’t give me that speculative look, Liza Hastings. I am not marrying anyone just to keep custody of my son. And I seriously doubt that Michael O’Hara considers it an option either.”

“Are you sure? You know how he feels about family, especially mothers and sons.”

Molly knew. After he was separated from his mother and sent to the United States to live with relatives, he was practically obsessed with the subject. “He’s also a cop who feels very strongly that he’s a bad bet when it comes to marriage,” she said. “He doesn’t even have relationships.”

“What about that woman he lived with, Bianca?”

“The way he tells it, she expected more than he ever intended.”

“He certainly took his time extricating himself if that was the case. Ergo, they had a
relationship.”

“I think what they had was mutual lust. Until she got possessive, he probably saw no reason to back away.”

Liza grinned. “Then you’re in luck. That’s what he has with you, too.”

“Not so you’d notice,” Molly countered, feeling oddly disgruntled. She pushed aside the feeling. “This is ridiculous. Why are we discussing it?”

“Because your son has proposed in your behalf and now you two are going to have to figure out what to do about it.”

“Maybe we can just sit around and figure out if Roger really killed Tessa, instead.”

“If you would rather discuss murder than marriage with the hunk, you are in serious trouble,” Liza observed. “I think I’ll leave so you can work on your priorities before he gets here.”

“Before you go, there’s something I still can’t get out of my mind.”

“What’s that?” Liza said.

“When I found Tessa’s body the other night, I looked all over the place for you and I couldn’t find you anywhere. Where were you?”

Liza’s expression immediately shut down. “You asked me that before.”

“I know, and you avoided answering me. You’re doing it again. Why?”

Liza sighed and sat back down. “Because I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“What on earth could be worse than thinking that you might have had something to do with Tessa’s murder?” Molly said incredulously. She waited anxiously while Liza apparently considered whether to answer.

Refusing to meet Molly’s worried gaze, Liza finally confessed, “I was upstairs in one of the bedrooms—the Cathay, to be precise.”

Molly regarded her closely and realized it was embarrassment, rather than guilt, that had kept Liza silent. “I think I’m getting the picture,” she said.

“I doubt it,” Liza said ruefully. “I can’t believe how naive I was. For God’s sake, I have traveled around the world and back on my own. I have challenged world leaders on their environmental policies. I’ve even ducked out on amorous suitors in a dozen languages. And I still fell for one of the oldest lines in the book.”