Chapter 20

SAM

MORE AND more, my life seemed like a blur of airports and automobiles. While I waited to board the next return flight to Laurel Falls, a strange sense of unrest stole my concentration. The constant travel and hotel rooms left me yearning for home and Dakota. I took out my phone and dialed her number. The call went straight to voice mail. After twenty minutes of unsuccessfully trying to answer emails, I decided to walk the terminal and stretch my legs. As I traveled along the corridor, my thoughts drifted until a familiar face caught my attention.

“Tucker?” The last time I’d seen my best friend had been a few months ago. Until then, I hadn’t realized how much I missed our weekly breakfasts and workouts with him and Beckett.

“Hey, there’s the man.” Tucker shook my hand then jerked me into a one-shouldered man hug. “It’s been too long.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. What’ve you been up to?” I backed up to take a good look at him. His wavy dark blond hair trailed above his shoulders, and he hadn’t shaved in a few days. As usual, he wore a faded concert T-shirt and black Chuck Taylors, but the playful twinkled seemed absent from his eyes. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks. You look like a stuck-up suit.”

“Fair enough. Got time for a drink?” I clapped a hand on his shoulder, unable to voice my pleasure at seeing him.

“Always. I’m on the flight back to Laurel Falls. You?”

“Me too.” Together, we headed toward the first-class lounge.

When we passed a newsstand, Tucker paused. “Hang on, man. I need to grab something here.”

While he paid for a copy of one of his technical geek magazines, I scanned through the dozens of different publications. My guts clenched as my attention snagged on a scandal magazine. The caption read, “Samuel Seaforth headed for divorce.” As a rule, I avoided the gossip rags, but the picture on this one caught my eye. It was a picture of Dakota having lunch with none other than Cameron Blackwood. Although the photo was grainy, I recognized her pert features and his arrogant smirk. They were sitting near the window of the bistro across from our office building.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. The thin pages crackled as I thumbed to the article. A collage of pictures covered an entire page, most of them Dakota with Chandler. Dakota with her hands resting on Chandler’s chest. Chandler with his arm around her waist. One of the photos had been taken at the gala. The picture fanned the flames of my already smoldering temper.

“Are you alright?” Tucker shoved a handful of change into his pocket then peered over my shoulder to see what I was reading. He snorted. “You know better than to believe that shit, right?”

“Sure.” I crumpled the magazine in my hand.

“That’s six dollars,” the cashier grunted.

I shoved a ten in his hand, stuffed the rag under my arm, and started walking toward the nearest bar. Tucker stretched his long legs to match my stride. “Want to tell me about it?”

“No,” I replied, but once I had a drink in my hand, the story poured out. I told him about the pregnancy and our struggles to connect over the past weeks. Tucker knew my history with Dakota. He’d been my college roommate and had seen me through years of self-destruction after the divorce. He listened without comment until I ran out of words.

“First, let me say congrats on the kid. You’re going to make an awesome dad.” An ear-to-ear grin split his face. We clinked beer mugs in a mutual toast.

“Thanks.”

 “And second, you don’t think she’d ever cheat on you, do you? Really, Seaforth? After all you guys have been through to be together?”

“Of course not.” I spun the beer mug in my hands, watching the dark Guinness slosh around the glass.

“Then what’s the problem?” He took the magazine and opened it to the article. “That’s some dress she’s wearing.” When I glared, he laughed. “I never knew you were the jealous type.”

“I’m not usually.” In response to his comment, I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “But we haven’t spent any quality time together in months. And you know Blackwood. He’s got no scruples.”

A furrow deepened between his brows as he considered the situation. “But things are okay in the sack, right? That’s how you know. If you’re not getting any, it’s not a good sign.”

With monumental effort, I managed to keep my features neutral. I could count the number of times we’d had sex on one hand. My male pride couldn’t bear to admit the truth. “We’re good.”

“Call Dakota and ask her about it.” The barstool creaked as he leaned back and signaled the bartender for a second beer.

“I plan on it.” Feeling like a sap for unloading on him, I tried to deflect the conversation back to his life. “So what’s new with you? Where’ve you been? Trekking the mountains of Tibet?”

“No.” A smile twisted his lips, but his eyes remained somber. A baseball game played on one of the many TV screens. He stared at it. Shouts went up as someone scored a home run. “I met this girl.”

“Your stories always start with those words.”

He grinned. This time his eyes lit up. “She’s different. Not like the others. I was going to give you a call about her when I got back. Her brother, Hank, is a paraplegic. She takes care of him by herself. It’s insane the amount of responsibility she has. Do you think any of your mom’s charities could help them out? I’d give her the money myself, but she’d never accept it.”

“Absolutely. Get in touch with Venetia. She loves that shit.” The passion in his voice hit a soft spot inside me. The only thing bigger than Tucker’s bank account was his heart.

“Flight 247 to Laurel Falls will begin boarding in fifteen minutes,” said a monotone female voice over the intercom.

Tucker brushed my hand away as I reached for the bill. He dropped a twenty on the bar. “It’s on me. You can buy the next one.”

“Deal,” I said.

As we stood in line to board the plane, I took out my phone, intending to tap out a text to Dakota, but the battery had died. I sighed and shoved it back into my pocket.

When we landed, the pilot kept us onboard the plane for an hour past our arrival time due to “an unforeseen issue”. Xavier met us at the gate to our terminal. By the sour expression on his face, something had gone terribly wrong. “You haven’t answered any of my calls, and you’ve got problems. Big, big problems.”

“My phone’s dead.” I took the offending unit from my pocket and handed it to him. I gave Tucker an apologetic shrug and shook his hand. “Sorry, man. It’s always something these days.”

We made plans to meet in the near future and went our separate ways. On the way to the car, Xavier briefed me on the current crisis. Beckett, unable to reach my dead phone, had called Xavier with news about my father. A federal jury had indicted Maxwell on multiple counts of tax evasion and fraud. Because he had friends in high places and was represented by the best legal team in the country, the judge had released him to await trial.

The second we reached the car, I used Xavier’s phone to call Beckett. He answered on the first ring.

“Have you heard?” he asked without preamble.

“Xavier just told me. How bad is it?”

“Bad. By this time tomorrow, it’ll be all over the news,” Beckett said, in a quiet voice. In the background, I heard the soft mewling of a baby and realized I’d probably disturbed the entire household with my call.

“Who is that?” Venetia’s voice carried through the phone.

“Sam,” Beckett replied. Baby Jane’s whimpers escalated into a wail.

“Give me the phone,” Venetia said. “Take the baby.” Rustling and thumping accompanied the transfer. “Sam? Do you have any idea what time it is? I know you never rest, but some of us are trying to get some sleep.”

I glanced at my watch. “It’s nine o’clock.” Nine o’clock? Shit. I covered the speaker of the phone with one hand and turned to Xavier. “Let Dakota know I need to cancel, would you?” He nodded. Venetia cleared her throat.

“Yes, Sam. Exactly. It took me an hour to get Jane to sleep and now you woke her up. Do you understand what I’m saying?” The wailing grew into full-fledged screaming.

“What are you doing to that kid?” I held the phone away from my ear. “It sounds like you’re scalping her.”

“I think she has a tummy ache. I’ve tried everything, and she just keeps screaming.” Venetia sighed, her tone weary. “Wait until you have one of your own. You’ll see what I mean. Speaking of which, you should be at home with your wife, not on the phone with us.”

Her well-placed jibe sliced into my heart. Dakota was going to be disappointed about dinner. I’d stood her up more than once over the past few weeks. “Your husband called me. It’s about Maxwell. Put Beckett back on.”

“Screw Maxwell. He deserves every bit of trouble he’s getting,” she said. “But I love you anyway.” She handed the phone back to Beckett.

“I called Judge Hawthorne,” Beckett said, picking up the conversation where we left off. A door thudded, and Jane’s screaming became muffled. “He was one of my professors and an expert on tax evasion. If anyone can give us the inside scoop, it will be him.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“This is serious, Sam. Apparently they’ve been investigating him for years but couldn’t get enough evidence together to bring him down. Someone inside his circle rolled on him. He’s accused of bribing tax officials, money laundering, fraud, and a dozen other crimes. I’ll be shocked if he doesn’t do time.”

By this time, Xavier had my phone plugged into a charging unit. Alerts for incoming texts and phone calls lit up the screen. He scrolled through them and held up the most recent, a call from Vanessa.

“Okay. Well, let me know if you learn anything else. I appreciate it, Becks.”

“No problem, man.” He paused, and I could tell he had something more on his mind. “Hey, I know it’s none of my business, but Dakota? She’s been working her ass off, and Venetia’s worried about her. We’re all worried.”

“I appreciate that.” I hung up the phone, alarmed by Beckett’s tidbit of information, and turned to Xavier. “Has Layla said anything about Dakota working a lot of hours?”

He stared at me like I was crazy. “Hello? Of course she works a lot of hours. Who do you think makes the machine go when you’re not there?”

This information weighed heavily on my thoughts, and I forgot about Maxwell. I’d assumed things ran smoothly in my absence. Dakota had stepped up to the task of controlling the company with ease. Or maybe it just looked that way. I knew firsthand how stressful the job could be. I blamed myself for her heavy workload. I was accustomed to having a team of capable employees to handle the small and tedious tasks while I focused my time on bringing in the money. Dakota didn’t have that luxury. She was doing the work of three people rolled into one.

“You’d better listen to this one yourself.” Xavier held out my phone and pressed the voice mail play button.

Vanessa had left a brief but scathing voice mail. “I’m in Laurel Falls at the Royal Hotel. Get your ass over here. We need to talk. Maxwell is going to appoint Blackwood as his successor at Seaforth Industries.”

I tapped Rockwell on the shoulder. “Change of plans.”