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Roman sat back, looking utterly exhausted. Now that he studied his old friend, Gabe could clearly tell that Roman hadn’t slept the night before, and nothing as pleasant as a woman like Eve had kept him awake. “Connor has a lid on our problem for now.”
“But there’s no way this doesn’t get out—and soon. I got to this particular reporter, but she thinks her source had already sold copies.” Connor held the tablet he’d extracted from his briefcase. “She said she tried for an exclusive, but the seller wouldn’t give her one. I’ve got an associate doing his best to hunt down any other copies.”
Gabe was starting to get angry again. “Copies of what, damn it?”
“Of this.” Connor turned the screen of the tablet in his direction. “Recognize it?”
Of course he recognized the dining room of Cipriani. He had lunch there all the time. The maître d’ was an old family friend. He knew there were hotter spots, but it had been a favorite of his father’s and had become a sentimental pick for him. Every time he sat there, Gabe remembered all the times his father had taken him and tried to teach him about the business. “Of course I recognize my table at Cipriani. Has eating scampi thermidor become a crime?”
As the video started rolling, he realized exactly what event had been recorded, and his stomach took a deep dive. He could see himself, though only part of his face occupied the top left of the screen. The right side was filled with the back of a man in a gray suit, drinking a Scotch, his hands tapping on the glass with a nervous energy.
“Oh, shit. This is my last meeting with Mad.”
Roman nodded. “Someone must have recognized you. Or more likely, they recognized Mad. He was all over the tabloids the last few weeks of his life. I believe this was taken with a cell phone by someone sitting at the table next to you.”
Connor shot him a disgusted stare. “You should have noticed.”
“Turn that thing off.” He didn’t need a reminder of what had happened that afternoon. It played through his head all the damn time, like a never-ending nightmare. Well, except the last few nights. With Eve, he’d slept like a baby . . . when he hadn’t been inside her. This weekend he’d been able to forget that he was mourning Mad and the terrible way they’d ended a lifelong friendship.
Despite what he’d told her about not having time for a girlfriend, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he gave in and dialed her number. If she’d given him a false one, well, he would find her anyway. He needed her. It was selfish to even think of bringing her into his crap right now, but somehow during the weekend they’d spent together, she’d become necessary to him. That was the truth.
Roman took the tablet and flipped it off. “Obviously, Gabe was far too busy arguing with Mad to notice anything at all.”
“Oh, it isn’t the argument that’s the problem. It’s the threats.” Connor stared at him like he was a suspect. “You threatened to kill Mad. You want to explain why?”
He’d threatened Mad in numerous ways at that lunch. “Guys, I was angry about the lousy way he treated my sister. You know they dated a couple of months back. It ended ugly.”
“I told you that was a mistake,” Dax supplied helpfully as he turned the limo.
The green of Central Park was to his left, the site of his crime coming up on his right. The restaurant where he’d promised Mad that he would have revenge had a marbled front with a few small windows covered in crisp white drapes. He preferred the table that overlooked Grand Army Plaza. As a child, he would stare at the gold statue of Sherman while his father droned on about the importance of business. He stared at the façade of the building as they drove past.
Gabe remembered that last fight with Mad vividly. Gabe had left him with the check and walked in the park for about an hour. He’d sat on a bench and known that all around him tourists and locals were enjoying the day, but he hadn’t seen it. He’d only seen his friendship with Mad crumbling. He’d been so brutally, violently angry, and if he’d had the chance in that moment, he might have choked the life out of his best friend.
But he hadn’t had the chance. Later that evening, after Gabe had cooled off a bit, he’d driven out to the airport to talk to Mad again. Unfortunately, he’d missed the plane taking off by seconds. He’d thought he would have more time for everything to work out.
Instead, Mad’s plane had gone down.
“We all know he broke up with Sara in a nasty way.” Roman used the same soothing tone he took on the Sunday morning news shows when butting heads with the opposition. Roman Calder was known as the pundit whisperer. He could calm the most ferocious mouthpiece for any lobby or special interest with the sound of his voice—and very tight logic.
Gabe had no interest in being calmed. His friends didn’t know half of what had transpired. “He dumped her via text, and two hours later he was strutting down the red carpet with a blond actress, bragging about their fabulous sex life. Do you have any idea how that made Sara feel?”
“I can imagine.” Connor crossed one leg over the other and sat back. “But you knew what Mad was like when you let him date her.”
“He wasn’t like that with her.” That fact baffled Gabe most. “He was . . . perfect with Sara. He’d seemingly matured and stopped drinking so much. Hell, he even seemed to have given up other women and stayed home with Sara every chance he could. We went out to the Hamptons and didn’t leave the house for a week. They seemed so happy.”
“Sara is beautiful and kind,” Dax said, his voice low. “She’ll be fine, Gabe. Hell, she’ll probably find a good man and get married in the next couple of years and forget all about Mad.”
“She can never forget about Mad, damn it. He made sure of it. That’s the fucking problem.”
“Sara’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Connor said, his eyes narrowing. “That’s why you were so blazingly pissed in that video. Mad got Sara pregnant and dumped her.”
Damn. He hadn’t intended to tell anyone, but Connor had always seen too much. “Less than a week after she told him, yes. Sara finally admitted it to me the morning of that lunch. Keep that information quiet.”
Roman slapped at the door, his calm demeanor fleeing in an instant. “There will be no fucking way to keep this quiet, Gabe. Not once that tape gets out. And if there’s any question about who you’re threatening, I’m sure the police can drum up a witness or two to come forward.”
Confusion was starting to make his head pound. “The police? Why the hell would they care who saw me threaten Mad that day? Mad’s plane crashed. Capitol Scandals’s claims aside, it was an accident.”
Connor held up a copy of the morning’s paper. “Not according to the Times. We’ve gone past the tabloids, brother. Real papers have picked this story up.”
The
headline jumped out at him in black and white, sending him reeling.
BILLIONAIRE’S CRASH DEEMED SUSPICIOUS
“Oh, shit,” Gabe muttered as the implications fell into place.
“You don’t even want to know what the other papers are saying,” Roman explained with a sigh. “Apparently the FAA has found some trace chemicals that shouldn’t have been there and say it’s evidence of an incendiary device on the plane. The working theory is that someone left a timed explosive on his aircraft.”
Gabe’s whole body went cold. Mad had been murdered. “They’re going to think I killed him.”
“Well, you did mention ending him on that tape. More than once,” Dax threw in. “We’re two minutes out, boys.”
“Now I’m glad I’m staying in the city for a few days because of that damn fundraiser.” Roman straightened his tie. “Zack had to go back to DC, but while I’m here, I’ll do everything I can to help keep this tape out of the press and the hands of police.”
