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Bailey watched thoughtfully as he finished the whiskey before thumping the glass on a nearby table.
“Most of us have to face this when we’re in our teens.” She finally shrugged. “Our parents aren’t perfect, Wagner, no matter how much we wish they were.”
“No kidding,” he grunted as he wiped his hand over his face before shaking his head wearily. “But not all our parents are monsters, Bailey.”
“Is your father a monster?”
Wagner sighed wearily at the question.
“You know father’s personal assistant was killed in a skiing accident several months ago?”
Bailey shook her head. “I hadn’t heard.” She had, actually. She had even managed to search the man’s apartment days after his death, but had found nothing that would incriminate Ford Grace.
“Charlie was a good man.” He sighed heavily. “He was only about ten years older than we were, but he was damned smart. He ran Father’s life like a well-oiled machine.”
“That’s a personal assistant’s job,” she stated as she maintained a carefully calm attitude, almost cold. It wouldn’t do to show emotion or curiosity too s
oon.
“Yeah, ol’ Charlie was smart.” He gave a hard grunt of mocking laughter. “Father had no idea how smart, I don’t believe.”
“What are you getting at, Wagner?” she finally asked tiredly. She didn’t want to deal with this tonight. She wanted to return to her room and curl against John’s body. She wanted to feel his touch, his possession, and save up another memory for the time she wouldn’t have him any longer.
Wagner shook his head, his eyes narrowing on her. “You’ve surprised me, Bailey,” he stated sadly. “I had thought your sense of justice was much stronger than it appears it was.”
“Wagner, my sense of justice got a clue when I realized how little others really gave a damn,” she bit out impatiently. “Now I really don’t give a damn myself. And what the hell does my patriotism have to do with your father or your relationship with him?”
“There is no relationship with him,” he stated as he turned and moved to the television set to retrieve the remote sitting on top of it. “I realized that the other day when I received a very interesting package.”
Holding the remote, he crossed the room to her.
“What sort of package?” she asked him.
His smile was mocking, disdainful. “What makes the world go around, Bailey?”
She watched him for long moments before a brittle smile crossed her lips. “Power.”
“Not money?” He arched a brow with a mocking curiosity.
“You can have money and still retain no power.” She shrugged. “Power can bring you unlimited funds, though. So power makes the world go around, Wagner. Not money.”
He chuckled at that. “Father says the same thing.”
She lifted her shoulders in a negligent shrug. “So did mine. It was his favorite philosophy.”
“Did you know your father and mine fought the night he died?”
Bailey felt that swift, brutal stroke of pain inside her soul and fought to hide it.
“Our fathers were always arguing.” She pushed her hands back into the pockets of her loose sweats and regarded him with a hint of amusement. “They enjoyed it.”
He shook his head. “No, they really fought. A fistfight in the middle of Father’s office. Ben stormed out, swearing he’d see Father in prison. That was an hour before your parents were killed.”
She shook her head as rage threatened the careful calm she had pulled around herself. “I had no idea. But what does this have to do with now?”
“As I said, Charlie was smart.” He lifted the remote and turned on the television. “He believed in insurance, and he had a bit of his own.” His composure seemed to crack then, along with his voice. “God, Bailey.” He turned back to her. “Charlie had a package that he left with a friend to give to me if something happened to him. There was a DVD in that package.”
Bailey could feel her palms sweating now. She stared into Wagner’s face and saw the brittle rage that reflected in his eyes.
