Chapter 21

Val took a deep drink of his lager and leaned back on the bar. This Back Bay place was no Rusty Nail, but it fit the bill for what he needed—a low-key place to meet with Assistant Attorney General Jeff Tepper. This joint was the absolute last place any G-man would ever think of frequenting, which was just an added bonus.

“Jeff,” Val said, standing to greet the slim, suited, and bespectacled man who’d entered. He realized he should have told Jeff to ditch the jacket before coming in. “Thanks for meeting me.”

Despite his slight stature, Jeff’s handshake was incredibly firm. Val knew better than anyone else that looks could be deceiving. Jeff was one of the foremost lightweight boxers in the region and he trained at least four times a week at one of the roughest boxing clubs in Boston. “Good to see you, Val,” Jeff said. “It’s been a while.”

“A couple of months, at least,” Val agreed, sitting back down and gesturing for Jeff to take the seat next to him.

“More than that. I think the last time I saw you in person was at Mackenzie’s wedding,” Jeff said, referencing their mutual friend from law school.

“You might be right,” Val said. “Too long, for sure.” He signaled to the bartender, who gave him a short nod. “So, what can I get you?”

“Whatever they have on tap that’s halfway decent.” Jeff looked around at the seedy joint. “Damn, Val. You sure know how to pick ’em.”

Val just shrugged. “I like it here.”

The bartender came up and Val ordered Jeff his beer. When it came, Jeff took a long pull. He put the beer down. “So you want to tell me what was so important that a phone call wouldn’t suffice?”

“Everything I say is confidential—”

“—off the record, et cetera, et cetera. Yeah, I know.”

Val took a drink. “I need a search warrant.”

“What case?” Jeff asked, taking a sip of his own beer.

“Operation Beach.”

“Okay. What? Who?”

Val pressed his lips together.

His friend let out a low whistle. “For Senior? You have got to be kidding me.” Val just stared at him, his mouth a straight line. “Oh, I know what’s going on here,” Jeff said with a shake of his head. “Your boss sent you to sweet-talk me because you don’t have enough evidence.”

“I came to talk to you because I want to know what you need to move forward.”

“I know you have crap.”

Tersely, Val nodded. A couple of suspicious phone calls wouldn’t amount to enough evidence for a search warrant, and both he and Tepper were well aware of that.

“My hands are tied. You know that.”

“I know that you could make it happen,” Val pressed.

“Not without violating laws six ways to Sunday. I don’t play that way.” Val was silent. “You knew I was going to say that, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t ask for it before. Because you play the same way I do.” Jeff sighed. “Your boss needs to get with the program.”

Val took a sip of beer. “I’m not going to tell him that.”

“Me neither. That shade of red he turns is downright frightening.”

Val snorted and took another drink.

“Look, I’ll tell you what,” Jeff said. “You bring me something—anything—that remotely resembles evidence I can use to make a case and I’ll see what I can do. I’ll even do the honors myself. In the meantime, I won’t say squat at the office, but I will make a few phone calls. If you want.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Just then, a huge man tapped Jeff on the shoulder. “I don’t like the way you look,” the guy slurred. Val groaned. It wasn’t even eight, but the man was already three sheets to the wind.

“Take a hike,” Jeff said, turning his back on the dude.

“I don’t think you heard me,” the guy repeated, pulling Jeff around. “You don’t belong here.”

“Your breath stinks, buddy. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone.”

The bar went dead and the guy looked like he was about to drag Jeff off the chair. Step in. Now.

Val spoke into the silence. “Hey.” And that was all he needed to do. The drunk dude gave him a once-over. Then, as abruptly as he’d come, he let Jeff go and left.

Val turned to face the patrons, who were all staring at the scene. There was a collective mumbling, and then everyone found something very interesting at the bottom of their glasses and steins.

When noise levels had returned to normal, Jeff looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I had that, you know.”

“Sure. Just figured since you’re on my turf, I may as well do the honors.”

Jeff sighed and drained his glass. “Next time, I choose the bar.” He shook his head. “Damn, Val. Like I said, you really do know how to pick ’em.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Cameron told Cecile, welcoming her into her town house. “Please come in.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Cici said, tugging her roll-on bag across the threshold.

“I wish you’d come sooner,” Cameron said. “It’s six now. Would you like a drink or a snack? Or maybe we should we get you settled in first.”

“Let’s get me settled in.”

“Great. Your room is right upstairs. Did you know that you’re the first guest who’s going to be staying in it?”

“Neat!” Her sister smiled and led the way upstairs to the guest room. Cici is smiling. She hadn’t seen a real smile out of Cici in years. It had only been a week since they’d had dinner at their parents’ place, but what a difference just being out of the house had made! Cici already looked happier. Her skin had lost some of that pallor it had collected living in the mansion, her eyes were glowing, and her dark blond curls were actually bouncing. Just seeing her sister looking so much better actually started to make her feel better, too. But not that much better, because she missed him. A lot.

She shook her head and focused on Cici, who placed her suitcase on the small valet Cameron had set up for her. “These are just my clothes,” Cici said, popping the suitcase open. “I already moved most of my artwork to the school. They’re letting me keep my supplies in a locker, even though I’m not a student yet.”

“Does this mean you’re going to enroll next semester?” Cameron asked.

“I think so,” Cici said, pulling out some clothes and putting them into a waiting drawer. “I’ve got a little money set aside from that marketing job I had. The one mom made me quit after six months. And then there’s always my trust fund.” She shrugged. “I’d prefer not to use it, but I will if I have to. It’s not like I’m eligible for any financial aid.”

“I can help pay for art school, if you want.”

Cici shook her head. “No. This is something I have to do. For me.” She turned to Cameron. “My instructor says I’m good. And I need to see if I can make something out of my talent. Want to see?”

Cameron nodded, feeling so proud of Cici. She was much, much stronger than she’d ever imagined, and she loved seeing her sister this transformed. From a voluminous tote bag, Cici pulled out a large pad and handed it to Cameron.

She flipped to the first page. There, etched in colored pencil, was a remarkable likeness of their mother. Cici had perfectly captured her expression, the one that said, I’m always right. The next picture was just as beautifully wrought, a view from Cici’s window looking out to the manicured backyard. She kept flipping through the pictures, until one caught her eye. A young man, handsome, in his mid-twenties, his shoulders thrown back, his gaze steady. A small smile played on his well-formed lips. He looked confident and intelligent.

Like Val. Since the night of the dinner, she hadn’t called him, and he’d returned the favor. Suddenly, her throat felt tight. She closed the book and handed it back to her sister. “Your instructor is right, Cici. You’re very talented. I could probably sell some of these in my stores, if you’ll let me.”

“I’m not ready yet, though I hope I will be soon.” She sighed. “I’m so happy I left Mom and Dad’s place. I could feel myself being stifled, one day at a time. My art was suffering, too. Jace said he could always tell when Mom was hard on me because it affected my lines.”

“Is Jace the one in your drawing book?”

“Yes,” she said, turning to busy herself with her suitcase.

“Do you like him?” Cameron asked with a smile.

Cici turned back. “The same way you like Val, I’d imagine.”

“I—” she started, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Cameron,” her sister said, crossing the room to give her a hug. “Did something happen between you two?”

Cameron nodded miserably. “The night of the dinner. We had a fight.”

Cici shook her head. “Mom strikes again.”

“I don’t think it was that,” she said, shaking her head. “But I’m actually not sure. We had a fight about something different. Though maybe it was brought on by the stresses of the evening. I don’t know. All I know is that I finally found a guy I really like and who I thought liked me, and now we’re not talking.”

“So call him,” Cici said. “Figure it out.”

“It’s not that easy,” Cameron said, pulling away.

“It is that easy.”

“He obviously doesn’t care about me as much as I thought. Otherwise, why would he have let me go?”

“Val seems like a very forthright man,” Cici mused. “There must be something else going on that’s prevented him from contacting you.”

Cameron wiped her eyes with the back her hand. “I can’t imagine what.”

“Maybe it has something to do with his work?”

“I don’t know. All I know is he’s gone.”

“Calllll himmmm,” Cici droned. “He’s in a totally different class than Junior.”

Junior. Something flickered at the edge of her consciousness. “Cici? Remember when you told Taylor you didn’t want to go to Canada with her?” she asked.

Cici nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“You asked me if I was serious about Junior then. Why?”

Her sister looked at the ceiling for a moment before returning to her suitcase. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Cici turned back. “Fine. I guess there’s no harm in telling you now. For a long time I worried about it, but now that you seem to have moved on …”

“What is it, Cici?”

Cecile sighed. “A few years ago, Taylor invited me to a party. It was spring semester of my senior year in college, and the party was at her town house. I was really excited about it—you know how little I went out—and because it was the Kirklands, Mom told me I could go. No guilt trips. No questions. Just go and have a good time, Cici. So I went.”

“What happened?” Cameron asked, her voice low. “Was Junior there?”

“For a little while. He knew enough to get out of there when things started to go bad.”

Oh, God! “Cici—”

Cici shook her head. “I’m okay now. I wasn’t okay then. Taylor got really drunk, and so did I. Junior had this friend, a guy named Brett.”

“I know him. I think they went to law school together.”

“Yeah,” Cici said. “Well, we started making out, and before I knew it, we were in one of Taylor’s spare bedrooms and things were way more serious than I wanted them to be.”

Not my baby sister. “Did he—”

“No. I managed to kick him right where it counted. He ran off.”

“And Junior—”

“This is the worst part. While I was wrestling with Brett, Junior came in. He must have known what was going on, must have known that I was wasted out of my mind, but he just laughed and shut the door.”

“No,” Cameron breathed, fresh tears welling up as she contemplated how scared and alone Cici must have felt.

“After I got Brett to back off and leave the room, I knew enough to lock the door. Then I passed out. I woke up the next morning on the floor. Taylor’s house was trashed, and so was I, but at least I still had all my clothes on.” She blinked. “Anyway, I picked myself up and went home. Taylor and I never talked about it. And Junior never said anything to me about it, either. I don’t know what he thinks happened, but I bet you he thinks I don’t remember what he did.”

Cameron searched backward in her mind. Had Cici dropped any clues about what had happened? Clues she’d missed? Her sister had been a bit more aloof around Junior, and of course, she’d declined Taylor’s invitation, but Cameron hadn’t thought anything of it. Probably because she was so wrapped up in starting her business. “Cici, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It happened. It’s over. Anyway, you were so busy opening your store. I figured telling you would just be a burden. Besides, I came out of it okay.”

“Cecile,” she said, crossing the room and hugging her sister. “You will never have to deal with something like that alone again.”

Cici started crying, the Stahl genes coming through once again. “I wish I’d told you,” she said. “I was just too scared of what you might say. Of what other people might say.”

“I’m never going to judge you,” Cameron said. “And what other people say doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that you’re all right.”

“I am.” Cici nodded, pulling back from Cameron and wiping her tears away. “And I know enough never to do anything that stupid again. That’s part of the reason I’ve stayed at Mom and Dad’s so long. For the longest time, I honestly didn’t trust myself. I’m feeling more normal now, but it’s taken a while.”

“It wasn’t the smartest thing to get that drunk your first night out, but the mistake wasn’t yours, Cici. Brett and Junior are the ones who should be publicly shamed, not you.”

Cici nodded. “That’s what I keep telling myself. And what Jace keeps telling me.”

She liked this Jace, whoever he was. “Good.” Cameron smiled and tried to collect herself. “We need to find someplace fun to have dinner tonight. Get out of this rut we’re in.”

“You could serve me anything and I wouldn’t care. All I’ve been subsisting on for the past year and a half is chef’s bland soup and boiled chicken.”

That made her laugh. “The food is really awful, but Mom and Dad are so set in their ways.”

Cici just raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Sounds remarkably like someone else I know.”