“I've got my own plans in place. I don't think we'll be seeing each other again. It was nice to spend some time together, my friend.”
I hum, thinking that I regret not taking the time to get to know her better. She's a remarkable young woman, but she has her own mission to complete. “I hope that someday, maybe after you've found your own completion... I hope we can see each other again.”
“That'd be nice, but we'll see. I'll keep in touch with you electronically at least. Take care, Katrina.”
“You too, Andrea.”
So the die is cast. I just have to wait, and see how it finally falls.
Chapter 27
Jackson
It's been over a month since I've seen the plantation house, and as I walk up the long driveway from the street, I'm surprised at how unfamiliar it feels. I took a taxi and Nathan told me that if I needed, my Audi was at home for me to get away. A nice option, but I'm not sure if I agree with it.
A few of the staff react with surprise when I walk up, but Nathan is the first to greet me, coming down the wooden steps of the porch. “Your father is out back, near the pool, with a young lady as his company,” Nathan says quietly. “And I got a call. The police arrested Sam Grammercy about a half hour ago.”
I nod and pull out my phone. I dial Darcy, who picks up quickly. “Yes?”
“Open the gates,” I tell her in a flat voice, my emotions so roiling that I'm not able to put any sort of inflection in my speech at all. “Open them wide.”
I hang up before she can reply, and go inside to the foyer. I look around, but the place is pretty much deserted already. “My mother?”
“Upstairs, drunk and passed out. Andrea is in the library.”
I nod. “Inform her what I just did, and then tell any staff who don't want to deal with the cops to get the hell outta here. I'm going to go have a chat with Peter.”
Nathan nods, but doesn't move. “What?”
He looks like he's about to say something, but instead pats me on the shoulder. “De Oppresso Liber. Free the oppressed. For too long, I betrayed that motto,” he says instead. “Thank you for reminding me what right and wrong are.” I nod and pat him in return.
“Thank you, Nathan. Now let's go do what we need to do.”
I leave the foyer and cut through the dining room out to the pool area, where I see Peter sitting in a lounge chair next to a picnic table, his gut hanging out over the waistband of his ridiculous Speedos. It’s definitely swimwear that might look appropriate on me, but not on a man over fifty and carrying the extra weight he is.
In the pool, a young woman is swimming, most likely his newest girlfriend judging by the thong string bikini and long blonde hair streaming behind her as she kicks under the water. He’s so absorbed by the sight of her ass flexing that he doesn't hear me until I'm nearly on top of him. When he does, he has the balls to just give me a cocky smile. “Ah, so you finally got over your little temper tantrum. Good to have you back, Jackson.”
“Little temper tantrum,” I repeat softly, musing. I go around and sit in the other chair at the table, surprised I'm not in a total rage, but instead icy calm and focused. I've changed so much since that night in the limo with Katrina. “After all that you've done, including having the woman I love killed in front of me, you have the stupidity to call the past three weeks a temper tantrum?”
“Well, hasn't it been?” he asks, smirking. “I mean, the bitch hurt our family. Nathan told me what happened, and I'm glad that you've finally come home. Now, how about you wait here, and you, me, and Kendra can have a nice dinner together.”
“Bringing your girlfriends into the home now even,” I say, shaking my head. “Well, enjoy it for another hour or two. It'll be the last.”
“What do you mean?” Peter asks, suspicious. “What have you been up to?”
“Oh, not much. I just took all of Katrina's evidence, and there was a fuck-ton of it, and sent it to the cops, feds as well as the local news, and the blogosphere. I bet if you look right now, you'll find pictures of you with women, with gangsters, or maybe with a former governor of this state. Best of all, I've got the e-mails and files that you sent to coordinate the faking of Sam Grammercy's death. Did I mention he was arrested in Miami thirty minutes ago?”
Peter goes pale, and about that time Kendra comes up from another lap, and notices me for the first time. “Oh, hi! You must be Jackson!”
“Leave,” I reply, not taking my eyes off Peter. “We have some family business to discuss. Go home, and don't come back.”
Kendra stops, looking to Peter, who is staring back at me, and I'm not taking my eyes off him for a second. Kendra huffs, then gets out of the pool. In my periphery, her toned backside is the last thing I see of her as she disappears into the house.