Second Time's the Charm Read online

  Edward strolled back into the library and returned to the head of the table. “Are you all right to proceed?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” Allison mangled the note on the table with her left hand. Adam almost called her out on her bullshit. After all, her white knuckles and teary eyes said something different. The woman might be all right to proceed, but she was the furthest thing from fine.

  Fine. The same crap she’d tried selling outside earlier. He knew better. Add in the fact that she thought he was dumb enough to buy it, and he didn’t know if he was offended or just angry.

  “Then let’s proceed. I have an appointment in Chicago and I shan’t be tardy, so I must be brief.” Edward rearranged the papers in front of him, frowning down at them. “Here we are. To his sons, Dale and Adam, he leaves Byrnes and Company. Each is entitled to fifty percent of the business and all its assets. To his wife, he leaves the remainder of his estate, including this house and all monies and holdings. He left you each a note.” Edward thumbed through the envelopes on the table and placed three of them on the table in front of their recipients.

  Loraine picked up her note and held it to her chest, the sadness washing through her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Adam’s heart wrenched and his throat tightened with every tear sliding down his mother’s face. He didn’t know which was worse, losing his father or watching as his mother hung onto the last shred of her husband.

  Allison’s breakdown long forgotten, she rested her arm on the back of Loraine’s chair and rubbed Loraine’s wrist with her other hand. The two women shared a look. Adam’s throat opened as he realized his mother would be all right. Allison would always be there for her.

  “Are you kidding?” Dale whined, interrupting Adam’s reverie. “What am I supposed to do with Dad's business?” Apparently, the bittersweet moment unfolding between Allison and his mother was lost on Dale. Not that Adam was all that surprised. Dale did live in his own, Dale-centric world.

  “Just relax. We'll figure it out,” Adam soothed, trying to stop the conversation from progressing. He just wanted to get his mom through the reading. They’d deal with the fallout later.

  “Even though I’m not happy to convey this information, I have an obligation to tell you that Ben Mooring has contacted my office. He wants to talk about buying the company.” Edward began stacking and tapping his paperwork, placing part of the pile into his briefcase.

  “Ben Mooring?” Blood boiled and pulsed beneath Adam’s skin. “That jackass isn’t getting within five feet of my father’s company. Tell him to go slither back under that rock he calls home.”

  So much for dealing with the fallout later.

  “Don’t!” Dale yelled at Edward before turning to Adam. “Are you crazy? Do you want to come back home and run the company? I didn’t think so. Dad forgave him and you know he’s our only option. Who’s going to buy a dying jewelry business in this economy?”

  “I wouldn’t call it dying, Dale,” Adam argued, and realized he believed it. Even though the jewelry business had taken a hit over the past few years, they still had a few large contracts, including one with the Professional Hockey League, making rings for Championship Cup winners and necklaces for their wives

  No matter how successful the business was or could be, Dale was right, though. Adam had no intention of staying in Chicago and managing the company. But what were the other options? He liked the life he’d built in Phoenix. He liked his home, his job and his friends. He was comfortable there.

  But lately he was restless. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something seemed to be missing. He was positive, though, that his dad’s company was not that missing piece.

  “Well, it seems you boys have some decisions to make. I have to get back to the office,” Edward said as he packed the rest of his paperwork into his briefcase. “Loraine, you call if you need anything. Anything at all. Boys, Herb was like a brother to me, so there is always a special place in my heart for you.”

  “Thank you, Edward. You are a good friend.” Loraine dabbed at her tears.

  Edward rested his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Your father was very proud of you.”

  Adam smiled as Edward’s words struck at his core. His father had always said how proud he was, but it was still nice to hear. Over the years, Adam had always thought Edward was a little shady, always thought something was off. But over the past few weeks, the lawyer had proven his loyalty, as he helped in the planning and execution of Adam’s father's last wishes. Herb couldn’t have asked for a better friend to see his family through all of this.

  The friendly, paternal hand dropped away as Dale shouldered into Adam and grasped Edward's arm. “If we were interested in selling, how much do you think we'd get?”

  Edward glared at Dale's death grip.

  “Enough,” Adam said. Hell, he wanted to yell it, but yelling had never seemed to help when it came to his brother. Anyway, he was so tired of fighting with Dale. It seemed like that’s all they ever did.

  Adam knew he should be thankful his younger brother showed up at all today. Dale had been late or nonexistent for every appointment that meant anything to Adam or his parents. When Herb won Chicago’s Man of the Year, Dale had been late. When Adam graduated college, Dale wasn't just late, he plain hadn't shown up.

  Instead of feeling thankful, unfortunately, Adam was pissed, annoyed, fed up and just done.

  “Come on.” Dale pleaded. “You don't want this dinosaur company any more than I do. This is not my path to spiritual enlightenment.”

  “What are you talking about?” Adam ran his hand over the large knot that had shanghaied the back of his neck. Spiritual enlightenment?

  “You really want to leave the good life in Phoenix to manage Dad's company?” Silence squeezed the oxygen from the room. Adam took a long gulp of the thick, tension-ridden air and slowly let it out. He didn’t speak for fear he’d say something to upset his mother, but the anger simmered, simmered just below the surface, his thumping heart rate pulsing in his ears. He couldn’t understand it. He worked with druggies and murderers, never once getting flustered or showing his cards. He was an expert in playing it close to the vest when on the street. However, get him in the same room with his brother and he was ready to go to the mat in mere seconds.

  Edward’s phone buzzed, deflating the vacuum-sealed room. Edward looked at the screen and turned to Adam. “I should take this. Call me if there’s anything I can do.”

  Adam's eyes never left Edward's retreating figure, even though Dale's glare was boring holes into his skin. He had a feeling Dale was looking for something from him, but as usual, Adam had no clue what that might be. Did he want to talk about Dad’s company? Did he want some sort of resolution? Probably, but this was neither the time nor the place.

  Dale threw up his hands. “I give up. I'm outta here,” he mumbled as he clutched Nadia’s hand. She smiled nervously and rose from the chair.

  “Dale, relax.” Adam tried to hide his annoyance, but he had a feeling he wasn’t successful. “Nadia, please sit down,” he requested as she straightened her miniskirt.

  She dragged her long nails along the dark fabric of Dale’s shirt, as her eyes implored his for direction. Adam almost felt bad for the poor woman, but after more than ten years on the force, he’d learned to read people pretty well. That look told him she wasn’t turning to Dale because she was scared—she wanted to please him. Although he couldn’t understand her desire, he couldn’t help but notice the love in her eyes. He would have been happy for the jackass if he didn’t want to strangle him.

  “Baby, let’s go.” Dale glared at Adam. He pulled Nadia toward the door, and she stumbled in an attempt to keep up in her high heels.

  A few moments later, the roar of a motorcycle engine spurred Adam to walk toward the window.

  Nadia climbed on the back of the monstrosity darkening his parent’s quiet suburban driveway. The trees lining the driveway practically gasped for air as the black smoke billowed from the retreating
pipes.

  He hated that his brother left like that, but he didn’t know what else to do for the man. Adam watched his mother bow her head, defeat rolling off her slumped figure. Adam hoisted his hand onto her shoulder, sorrow and exhaustion draining his last shred of energy. He thought the day of the funeral was going to be the worst of it, but today turned out to suck just as bad. They sat in silence until the shrill clang of the doorbell resonated through the house.

  “Edward must have forgotten something,” Adam muttered as he left the library and headed to the house’s entrance. He heard footsteps behind him as he opened the front door.

  A dark-haired woman with light mocha stood on the porch, and behind her, a man slowly approached the stairs. Their sunglasses and impeccably pressed black pants looked both professional and casual. Cops, Adam deduced from the rigid posture and serious expression. He knew that particular expression well. He wore it quite often in his dealings with the public.

  “Lieutenant Adam Byrnes?” The woman on the front porch asked, and then continued when he nodded his head. “I'm Detective Shay Washington with the Chicago Police Department.” She smiled and held up her badge. Her partner made his way up the stairs, obviously assessing the situation around him. “And this is my partner, Detective Joe Perretti.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Detective Washington, Detective Perretti.” Adam shook their hands and then leaned against the doorframe.

  Detective Washington adjusted her sweater to clip her star back onto her black chinos. “May we come in, Lieutenant Byrnes?”

  “Yeah, but please call me Adam.” He glanced back inside the house at his mom. She didn’t need this today. She’d had enough heartache the past few days. He’d do anything he could do to keep her out of this.

  “We weren't sure if you'd still be in the area. The Phoenix Police Department must miss you.”

  “I'm sure they're getting on without me.” Adam smirked. The only reason they brought up Phoenix was to show they'd done their homework. It was a common tool used to throw people off-kilter. The police know things about me... what do they know? He did it all the time. He just wasn't accustomed to having it used on him.

  “We'd like to offer our condolences,” Detective Washington said.

  “I met your father a few years ago at a charity auction. He was a good man,” Detective Perretti added.

  “He was. Thank you. I'm assuming this isn't a social call.”

  “No. Due to your father's high-profile status, and the conditions surrounding his demise—he was alone at the time—we have been assigned to investigate his death. May we speak to you and your mother for a moment?”

  “Yeah.” Adam stepped outside, closing the front door behind him. “But please go easy on her. My father’s passing hit her pretty hard.”

  They nodded, and Adam opened the door. He held it for the entering officers and then led them through the foyer to the sitting room.

  The large room held two sitting areas, and large windows allowed morning light to fill the one that faced the backyard. The simple, comfortable furniture there was ideal for a lazy day of relaxation. The other area was formal, perfect for a meeting with the police. The areas were separated by a five-foot-wide fireplace complete with an ornate stone mantel.

  Adam turned to the visitors. “Officer Washington and Perretti, this is my mother, Loraine Byrnes, and the Vice President of Byrnes and Company, Allison Southby.”

  “It’s nice to meet you both. Is there a problem?” Loraine’s voice rose as her fingers twisted, worrying the tissue in her hand.

  “No problems, Mrs. Byrnes. This is standard procedure. May we ask you a few questions?” Detective Washington asked.

  Adam placed an arm around his mother’s waist and kissed her temple, while Allison lowered herself onto the loveseat.

  “Can I get you or your partner anything? Tea, or coffee? Water?” Loraine focused on their guests as Detective Washington sat on the couch. Adam’s mother was never one to let simple pleasantries go unspoken. No one would go thirsty, even though her world was falling apart.

  “No, thanks.” The female detective pulled a notebook and pen from her pocket as her partner propped himself against the wall behind the sofa. Adam took a seat in his mother's Queen Anne chair, facing the officers. The room was coated in silence as he waited for the onslaught of questions. But before they began, he realized he had a question of his own.

  “Have they begun the autopsy?” He’d heard rumors of the backlog that plagued the Cook County Medical Examiner’s office. He was hoping this case wouldn’t get lost in the county’s great abyss of paperwork.

  “Yes, the Medical Examiner is working on it.”

  “Wait. I thought Herb was buried yesterday,” Allison stuttered as the color drained from her face. He could see the hurt and confusion tumble across her features. He probably should have mentioned the details to her, but he’d wanted to avoid worrying her needlessly. She was going to have enough on her plate with the company, and he didn’t want to draw her attention to something that might be nothing. From the daggers in her eyes, he realized he’d chosen wrong.

  “The burial was a show for the well-wishers to say their good-byes. I wanted the police involved to ease my mind.” Adam tried to explain, but the hurt and anger weren’t receding from Allison’s face.

  “While the Coroner’s office does their investigation, we wanted to ask you a few questions.” Detective Washington allowed her gaze to rest on each person while she spoke in calming tones. She really was good at talking with people and putting them at ease. Adam was impressed. Police officer “bedside manner” was not something that was easily taught, so those who had it were at a premium.

  “Mr. Byrnes was at work the night he died. Did he normally work that late?” “Sometimes. He was planning on staying at the condo, so I didn’t question when he didn’t make it home.” Tears slid down Loraine’s cheek, each tear another spike through Adam’s heart.

  “The initial diagnosis was a heart attack. Did your husband have a history of heart problems?”

  “He was on beta blockers for a heart arrhythmia, but my mother put him on a hard-core diet when they found out about his condition.” Adam walked into the kitchen to grab his father’s medication and returned with the bottle. He handed it to Detective Washington.

  Adam’s lips curled up as he recalled the phone conversations he’d had with his father over the past few months. Herb had complained over and over that Loraine was “trying to kill him” with tasteless food.

  His least favorite had been the puffed rice coasters she tried to pass off as snacks. His father had started bragging about his hidden treasure troves of food throughout the city of Chicago. He would purposely spend time at the Braelind condo, not so he didn't have to endure the stress of driving fifty miles in heavy Chicagoland traffic, like he’d told his wife, but so he could eat “normal” food.

  Guilt lodged in Adam’s stomach. He should have told his mother about the stashes of junk food. Maybe his dad would be around today if he had told her about the food hoarding.

  “Any other conditions?” Detective Washington asked Loraine.

  “No, although I know he wasn't sticking to the diet I laid out for him. I knew those damn chocolate mints would be the end of him.” She plastered a small attempt at a smile on her lips and Adam’s guilt subsided. He should have known that nothing got by his mother.

  “Does this bottle have your husband’s doctor’s information?” Detective Washington concluded, as she searched for the doctor’s name on the pill bottle.

  “Yes. Dr. Schmidt.”

  The detective began to scribble in her notepad as she stared at the bottle. “You can keep the bottle. We don’t need it.”

  “Thanks.” The detective stood up and walked to the fireplace mantel. She inspected the array of photos adorning the family shrine, pausing at each frame. “Beautiful pictures. It must be nice to have so many loved ones at a time like this. Who are all of these people?”
>
  Adam attempted to help his mother to her feet. She slapped his hand away, and he fought back a grin. Now this was the mother he remembered, feisty and independent.

  Loraine made her way to the detective’s side. “Well, this is Adam, when he played football in high school, and this is my younger son, Dale, at his graduation. This one is Allison and her sister, Brook, at Christmas a few years ago, and that’s my husband’s assistant, Julie Connolly, and her son Cody.” Loraine clasped the frame in both hands and looked dreamily at the picture. “He is an amazing bundle of joy. I just adore him.”

  The dreamy look dissipated as she grimaced. “After all, it’s not like my sons have given me my own grandchildren to spoil. So I have taken it upon myself to spoil Julie’s.”

  Detective Washington smiled, and Adam ran a hand through his hair and tried not to make a face. Even after the day his mother had, she managed to find an opportunity to sprinkle in grandchildren and marriage guilt. She’d taken up the new hobby over the past year. He was hoping she’d get bored with the ineffectiveness, but so far that hadn’t dissuaded her from laying down a thick coat whenever they talked. Whenever he had a few minutes to call home, the conversation started with the wife-and-child inquisition. That was probably why he’d tended to call his father more often than his mother.

  That wasn’t exactly true. Adam had called the old man because he was a great sounding board and an excellent advisor. Police work had never been an issue for Adam, but supervising employees was. Every week, unbeknownst to everyone, Adam talked through employee problems he was having at the department. Even though his father hadn’t been well versed in the ins-and-outs of a police department, he’d worked with some of the largest organizations in the country. He’d known all about circumventing the political backstabbing inherent in government work and fostering positive employee relations. All things Adam had needed ongoing guidance to navigate.