The door to the office flew open, and Adrienne Whitman walked in. Her crisp Cardin suit exuded power and control. “Darling, I heard Mr. Chase was here. I am so sorry for your loss. She had such a hard life.”
Ian rose to greet her.
“Ade, Mr. Chase has brought me most disturbing news.”
“Oh my, more tragedy?” Adrienne placed a hand on her chest.
“I was asking your husband about the attack six years ago.”
She sat in the plush chair in front of her husband’s desk.
“It appears Sebastian and Robby were her attackers. Can you believe it? I was just telling Mr. Chase about that night. Where were we? Yes, I remember. What she was wearing. Do you remember, Ade?”
She shook her head, but Ian caught her glance at the picture on the desk.
“She insisted we share a bottle of champagne. As usual, she was scatterbrained and thought Garett was home instead of waiting for her at the restaurant,” Bradford said.
Adrienne clucked, “Typical Cassiopeia. She ended up leaving our house very late, and they had words. The rest is history.”
“When was the last time you spoke with your son?”
“We saw him at Robby’s funeral, but you would know since you were the last person to see him.” Adrienne sounded snide.
“I’ll be in touch. The police are investigating other theories. Your story isn’t holding water anymore.” Ian stood.
“Story? Mr. Chase, we take offense at that. Why would we tell a story?” Bradford asked.
“You tell me. Your son loved her. In fact, according to Cheyenne, he still does. Mrs. Whitman, do you know David Sucov?” Adrienne Whitman blinked. “And the five-million-dollar contribution?”
Adrienne’s pupils dilated. “It was the least Garett could do, considering…”
“Considering what?”
Adrienne turned to face him. “Isn’t it obvious? Garett told her he couldn’t marry her because she was no longer pure. And she didn’t need any money.”
“How could he do that to her? She was brutalized—and then he destroyed her.”
A perverse smile touched her lips. “He had to rip the Band-Aid off. It was better that way. A Whitman heir must marry pure.”
“A Band-Aid? Is that how you saw it? She was drugged and raped—and all of you thought it was better to tell her it was her fault. I don’t understand. Tell your son to go home to his wife and children. Stop hiding. I will find him.”
Ian picked up Cassie’s picture and left, closing the door without a sound. He drove back home to take a hot shower. He had felt cleaner after crawling through mud pits in Central America.
gh
Cassie spent the remainder of the day in the master suite after asking Martin for privacy. Locking the bedroom door, she turned on classical music and the shower. Using the sounds as cover, she pulled out the tablet from Ian’s office and rifled through the large medic bag her team left in the room. Using the tweezers from a suture removal kit, Cassie opened the tablet, removed the SIM card, and replaced it with one she found in the tablet in the med bag. She connected to the portable hot spot. Given Ian’s security, forty-five seconds was the maximum time before the signal would be picked up in the house. She hoped that was all she would need.
She felt immense guilt for her multiple deceptions.I hope you all will forgive me.
* * *
Cassie was curled up in bed when Ian came into their room for the night. He spent the evening observing Noah question Sucov, to no avail. Not even the threat to deport him to Moscow broke him down.
“Hi, sweetheart, I missed you today. How are you feeling?” He tamped down his frustration.
Cassie gave him a huge smile. “You saw me after lunch. Your mom gave me some medicine, and I feel much better. I missed you too.” She opened her arms and pulled him to her. “How was your meeting? Did you finish what you needed to do?” She placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“Everything I need is right here.” Ian plundered her mouth, letting the stress go.
