FBI: Drawn In Blood Part 32

"My father's art partners.h.i.+p's lowballing her on the second Rothberg, and forcing her to sell it way below value. Pus.h.i.+ng her closer to dest.i.tution." Sloane sighed. "And then the icing on the cake-that stupid bet they made about when Wallace would get her into bed."

"You got it." Derek spoke gently but candidly with Sloane. "All five partners were involved in the two events that, in Johnny Liu's mind, pushed Meili over the edge. We've already discussed what he considers to be Wallace's sins. Ben and your father were the most vocal when it came to intentionally under-valuing the worth of the Rothberg Meili tried to sell them. To top that off, Ben initiated a bet that centered on Meili's virtue. The sum total of results? Your father's office has been ransacked, your mother has been beaten up, then kidnapped and nearly killed. As for Ben, he's been pushed to the point of self-destruction. Phil was killed. That leaves Leo and your father."

Anxiety tightened Sloane's features. "You don't think that what Xiao's thugs did to my mother, and the knife a.s.sault on me, were enough retribution when it comes to my father?"

"Not compared to Ben's bankruptcy, total alcohol dependence, and possible jail time. Not compared to Phil's cold-blooded murder. And not compared to whatever vile plan Liu has in store for Wallace.

Your mother's a.s.sault at the apartment wasn't planned; she interrupted the break-in at their apartment. As for her kidnapping, it was aborted before Liu could have her killed. The fact that she's still alive is a thorn in his side. And the SOB Xiao sent to slash your palm? That was Liu's idea of a warning for you to back off. Otherwise, he would have sent Xiao himself, or Jin Huang, not some scrawny kid. No, none of those incidents targeted your father's core, or destroyed him in the funda-mental way Liu seems to be aiming for."

"You're right," Sloane replied grimly. "Liu is going for each man's Achilles' heel and using it to destroy his life. Especially Wallace. I shudder to think what Liu considers brutal enough for Wallace..." Sloane broke off, all the color draining from her face. "Oh G.o.d."

"What is it?"

For a long moment Sloane didn't speak. And when she did, it was in a strained, sickened tone. "My father said Meili ended the affair with Wallace around Christmastime 2005. What's the date on Meili's death certificate?"

"January 2006." Derek's eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out Sloane's anguished reaction. "The dates make sense."

"Maybe too much sense." Sloane squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, there was pain reflected in them. "Derek, the unknown hit-and-run driver who killed Wallace's daughter, Sophie..." Sloane swallowed hard. "The crime was committed on April 11, 2006. Three months after Meili killed herself."

"s.h.i.+t." Derek felt bile rise in his throat. "That sounds like a h.e.l.l of a coincidence to me."

"It sounds like an eye for an eye. Or, in this case, a daughter for a daughter. And if it's true...Derek, I'm not sure Wallace can survive this."

"And Liu's not finished. His plan seems to be coming to a head."

"Why now?"

"I'm not sure. But I intend to find out. Meanwhile, Phil was just murdered. Cindy Liu is about to tear out whatever's left of Wallace's heart, with G.o.d knows what to follow." Derek seized Sloane's hands. "Listen to me. I've already arranged for extra security on Ben, Wallace, Leo, and your father.

But they've got to be warned that their worlds are about to be blown apart."

"I agree." Sloane met Derek's gaze. "I'll talk to my dad. I'll also try to get through to Ben. For Wallace, this news also has to come from me. I'll see how he handles the part about Meili before I decide if I should mention my theory about Sophie's death. Right now, it's pure speculation. But he has to be prepared just in case it turns out to be fact. How and when I tell him...I'll have to play that one by ear. In the meantime, I don't want any of the other men to know."

"I agree." Derek nodded. "In the meantime, leave Leo to me. He's met Cindy, and I'm sure he's seen the resemblance to Meili. So don't be surprised if, once I fill him in on the kind of danger he's up against, he figures out that she's part of this plot. In the meantime, I want to confront him head-on about what he was searching for the night I caught him rifling through your file. I'm hoping that my warning about Liu and Xiao Long, together with what he figures out about Cindy, will rattle him enough to tell me. And if we're lucky, his answer will give us a clue about Liu's agenda."

"Are you heading over to Leo's studio now?"

"Right after you promise me you'll be careful. You should know that I also put extra security on you."

"Over and above what you've already provided-why?"

"Because it's probable that you and your mother are Liu's ultimate targets when it comes to punis.h.i.+ng your father. You're both what means the most to him. I'm not taking any chances-especially since I'm sure Xiao's still keeping an eye on you and will be alerted by his punk kids the minute you walk into Wallace's gallery. Wallace is back in the city, by the way. He and Cindy drove in from the Hamptons a few hours ago. They're each at work. So you can catch Wallace alone."

Sloane was quiet for a moment. "Even if I don't tell him about Sophie, the rest of this is going to tear him up. Not just Cindy's betrayal, but that Meili was pregnant with his child, that her father disowned her when he found out, and that she committed suicide. Wallace was deeply in love with her.

And he knows nothing about her life since the day she ended their affair."

"If it's too much for you, I can talk to him," Derek offered.

"Thanks, but no. This is something I have to do."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.

Ben was slumped over his desk, head lolled to one side.

One eye cracked open. The whiskey bottle was almost empty. It didn't matter. He couldn't reach it anyway. His arms wouldn't work. None of him would work. Except his G.o.dd.a.m.ned mind. Dulled to the point of unconsciousness, it still refused to shut up.

Murderer. He was a murderer. Directly. Indirectly. He was killing the people he loved.

Flashes of memory. Blanks he couldn't fill in. Images he'd never forget.

Is this how Phil had felt when the spray of bullets tore through him? No. Phil hadn't had time to remember anything. No cherished memories. No moments of joy. Unlike Ben, Phil had never harmed anyone but himself. His soul had been free of guilt, and yet Ben had deprived him of the precious flashbacks that defined his life. So what had Phil felt? Pain. Sharp, life-draining pain. Then, death.

All Ben's fault.

And Sophie. Beautiful, little Sophie. With the purest of souls, and not enough years behind her to have begun forming the priceless memories she deserved. At the very start of her young life. Gone in an instant. Had she been afraid? In pain? Had she called out for her daddy? Or had death come quickly?

If the gates of heaven were strewn with stars, then Sophie was the brightest star in the sky.

The daisies. Had he picked the daisies? Was it the eleventh yet? Or had it slipped by while he was inside a bottle? He'd never missed that date, not since the first one. He couldn't see the calendar, couldn't remember what day, what month, what year it was.

Dear G.o.d, why couldn't he just die? h.e.l.l could be no worse than this.

"Martino."

He heard the voice, but it was muted and very far away.

"Martino." This time it was accompanied by thick hands around his neck, and a powerful jerk, yanking him up. "I come for money."

The face swam in front of Ben's drunken gaze. Jin Huang.

"No money," he croaked out. "No girls. No work. No money."

Jin Huang's emotionless gaze flickered across the factory floor below. It was unnaturally still. No workers. No activity. No production.

No surprise. Xiao Long had pulled his girls from Martino's place the day the government found out Martino was employing illegals.

"Take whatever you want," Ben muttered into the desk. "Take it all. There's nothing left."

"Xiao Long not happy."

"Tell him he's welcome to kill me. I wish he would."

"Good idea. He'd enjoy. But maybe he not come in time. Maybe you kill you first," Jin Huang replied, his words as stilted as his English. "Or maybe Johnson kill you. Xiao. You. Johnson. All have reasons. No matter what, you die. Soon."

Sloane felt physically ill as she opened the door to Wallace's gallery and stepped inside to the tinkling of the bell.

Talking to her father had been a cinch compared to what she had to do now. And talking to Ben hadn't happened. He'd been so out of it when she called, she'd given up and agreed to let her father try getting through to him.

But Wallace. Poor Wallace. This was going to be one of the hardest conversations Sloane had ever had.

Thankfully, his gallery was quiet, with just two or three patrons browsing around. One of Wallace's a.s.sistants was helping them. When he saw Sloane, he held up his index finger in a "one minute"

gesture, then excused himself from his potential customer and went into the back office.

When he returned, Wallace was with him. He was tan and relaxed, looking happier than Sloane had seen him in ages.

She was about to blow all that newfound joy to bits.

"Sloane, this is a pleasant surprise," he greeted her. "Are you ready to select some paintings for the cottage?"

"I wish that's why I was here," Sloane replied soberly. "Unfortunately, it's not. Can we please talk privately?"

Wallace's smile vanished, and his forehead creased in concern. "Is it Ben? Did something happen over the weekend?"

"No, nothing like that." Sloane's gaze flickered to the rear of the gallery. "Is your office empty?"

"Yes. Come in. Let's talk there."

Once they were inside the office with the door shut, Wallace gestured for Sloane to take a seat.

"What can I offer you-coffee? Water? Soda?"

Sloane glanced over at the small fridge in the corner. "Water would be great, thank you." Requesting the water served two purposes. To ease the mounting tension. And to give her something to keep her hydrated so she didn't pa.s.s out during what promised to be a long, draining conversation.

Wallace got out two bottles and handed one to Sloane.

He uncapped his and stood beside his large teak desk, watching her.

"I think you should sit down," Sloane suggested.

An odd expression crossed his face, a mixture of apprehension and worry. "All right." He walked around and sat down behind the desk. "This sounds very serious."

"It is. And I wish more than you could ever imagine that I didn't have to tell you this."

"Go on."

"It concerns Meili."

Wallace started. Clearly, it was the last thing he'd expected. "Your father told you about Meili?"

"He didn't have to. I found out about her from her closest friend. The friend is here in New York, recovering in a women's shelter from an abusive marriage." Sloane pulled out the photo of Lucy and Meili and handed it to Wallace.

He studied it for a long time, his gaze growing soft and faraway. "Meili. Beautiful and unique." His head came up. "You said her friend is in New York. Is Meili here as well?"

"No." Sloane uncapped her water and took a fortifying gulp.

Something in Sloane's tone must have served as a warning, because Wallace tensed. "She's still in Hong Kong then," he decided aloud. "What did her friend tell you?"

"About your relations.h.i.+p. About what happened once it ended. Everything except your name, which Meili never revealed. I only learned it was you Meili's friend was describing this past Friday. At Phil's wake. After I met Cindy. I dragged the background story out of my father. He didn't want to tell me. But the situation was critical, far more than even he knew. He still doesn't know everything.

You had to hear it first."

"What situation?" Wallace demanded. "Why is it critical? And what is it about Meili that I have to hear?"

Sloane steeled herself. "There's no easy way to say this. Meili is dead. She died three weeks after she broke things off with you."

Wallace winced, lowering his gaze to stare at the floor. "How?"

"Suicide." Sloane made it as short and devoid of details as possible.

"Suicide?" Wallace's head snapped up. "Impossible. Meili was a survivor. Strong and independent.

She'd never take her own life. You must have the wrong woman or the wrong story."

"I wish that were so. But it's not. Wallace, Meili was pregnant," Sloane told him quietly. "It was your child. She didn't realize it until after she'd sent you away."

"Pregnant...oh dear Lord." Wallace's water bottle struck the desk with a thud. "And she didn't even contact me..."

"She was too proud to contact you. She went to her father. But he turned her away. The shame and dishonor were too much for her."

"So she killed herself." Wallace's voice was choked. He was also still clearly in shock. "She killed herself and our child. All because I wasn't there for her."

"Wallace, you couldn't have known-"

"How?" he interrupted, not even hearing Sloane's words.

"How what?"

"How did she kill herself? Pills? Drowning? How?"

Sloane gritted her teeth. "She slit her wrists."

Wallace shuddered, and his Adam's apple began furiously going up and down as he choked back emotion. "Sloane, I'd like to be alone now."

"I understand. But I can't leave yet. There's more."

"More?" He stared at her. "How much more can there be?"

"Quite a bit." Sloane was gripping the water bottle so tightly, the plastic was buckling. "Meili's family name was Liu. Johnny Liu was her father."