Chapter 83
Luke glanced around the room at the crowd of people at the Richards’ party. Guests all around the room continued celebrating the recent arrival of the New Year. However, Luke had a hard time concentrating, and he had yet to catch the party spirit. He returned the happy greetings of those around him half-heartedly. He was just in the process of receiving another round of hugs when he felt his phone vibrate.
Luke let go of the woman he was hugging abruptly – her face showing just how startled she was by his actions. He apologized politely and then weaved through the mass of people until he made it to the edge of the room. His heart was racing as he glanced at his phone. He had a text message – not from Max but from Irene.
He read the message quickly and scanned the room in search of Tweed. He found her some distance across the room surrounded by a group of older men including Dr. Archibald, who was far more attentive than seemed appropriate. Luke shook his head in revulsion but then re-directed his attention to those around him. He circulated about the room and with each salutation, he moved closer and closer to where she stood. When he was still some distance away from her, he stopped. He couldn’t risk getting any closer. He didn’t want to alert her to his presence. From where he stood, he could easily observe her without being noticed.
Just then, Luke felt someone slap him on the back. He turned slightly and found Blake by his side. Blake had a rehearsed smile on his face, but when he leaned toward Luke, his voice was urgent. “Any news?”
Luke spoke quietly so that they wouldn’t be overheard as he repeated what he had just learned in the text. They were quiet for a moment, and then Luke said, “Hopefully we’ll find out more soon, but all we can do now is sit tight.” The time seemed to drag on for them – both anxiously looking at their watches several times a minute.
After what seemed like an age, the Richards’ front door opened, and several police officers entered the house and swarmed the crowded room. Bob Richards approached the officer in charge and snapped, “What’s the meaning of this?”
Soon Karen Richards was at her husband’s side, anxious to find out the reason for the police department’s presence in her home. When she spoke, the gracious hostess had vanished, and in her place was nothing more than a hysterical woman. “You had better start explaining what you think you’re doing here. Do you hear me? This is private property, and I want you out!”
Lieutenant Drake, the detective to whom Irene and Phyllis had initially spoken just following her father’s murder, glanced in the Richards’ direction as he responded, “We’ve received material information in a homicide investigation which implicates your daughter, and we’re here to take her in for questioning.”
Tweed gasped as she said innocently, “You can’t be serious.” She shook her head – her voice sounding wounded as though she couldn’t believe that the police would even suggest something so horrible. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing.”
Lieutenant Drake responded matter-of-factly, “If you’ll come with us, we’ll try to get this resolved as quickly as possible.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Tweed ranted.
Suspecting that she would not leave peacefully, the Lieutenant motioned to a pair of officers who moved swiftly to her side. They each took her by the arm, but when she refused to cooperate by walking out of the room on her own, they had to forcibly remove her.
Tweed started screaming in rage as the police officers started to lead her from the room. “Get your hands off me!” As she was being escorted past Luke and Blake, Luke stopped in front of her, and she shrieked, “What do you want?”
“Max asked me to give you this,” he said. He dangled a charm necklace in front of her. It was the same one Irene had found in her vanity table the night that she and Max were scheduled to go to the ballet – the night they’d discovered that Duncan and Tweed had been involved. Luke paused and then continued meaningfully, “I guess you lost it at one of your sleepovers with Duncan.” Tweed’s eyes widened in shock at his words, and she started to tremble. He paused for a moment to reign in his disgust. When he spoke again, his voice sounded bold and the full import of his words finally hit home. “We know everything, Tweed. It’s over . . . and so are you.”
Chapter 84
Blake and Luke received the call from Irene about what had happened to Max just moments after Tweed’s arrest. They rushed straight to the hospital, but it still took them a while to get there due to all the New Year’s Eve traffic. When they’d spoken to Irene over the phone, she had been frantic about Max’s condition, and by the time they arrived, they were both extremely anxious as well.
When they entered the waiting room which was surprisingly crowded for being a holiday, they found Irene – her face in her hands and her clothing still covered in blood. “Irene,” Blake said worriedly as he hurried to her side. At the sound of his voice, she looked up suddenly and saw them coming toward her. She stood up and before she had a chance to say anything, Blake took her in his arms. “Are you all right?”
He held her by the shoulders so that he could see her face. She nodded, but when she spoke, her voice sounded hoarse. “I’m okay . . . I’m just worried about Max.”
He patted her shoulder supportively as Luke broke in, “How is he?”
“I don’t know yet,” she replied. “The doctor said that they would update me on his condition once he’s out of surgery, but they must still be working on him because I haven’t heard anything.” She shook her head and let out a painful breath as one tear rolled down her cheek. “Shouldn’t we have heard something by now?”
Luke put his arm around her shoulders reassuringly. “It’s okay, Rene. I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.”
Some time later, the surgeon entered the waiting room. He saw Irene, as well as the two men who had arrived since he’d last spoken with her, and he walked toward them. As he approached, Blake said quickly, “I’m Max’s uncle. How is he?”
The doctor shook hands with Blake as he answered, “He’s going to be fine. We were able to remove the bullet from his shoulder without any complications,” he explained. “He also needed stitches on the back of his head. We’ve run several tests and it appears that he has sustained a concussion, and he’ll need to stay here for a few days just to make sure that everything’s okay.” The doctor could still see the concern in each of their faces, and a slight smile touched his face as he continued, “He’s conscious, and he’d like to see you.”
He showed the way to Max’s room and then told them that he would be back shortly to check on him. When Blake, Luke, and Irene entered the room, they saw Max lying on the bed, his left shoulder bandaged and arm in a sling, the other hooked up to an IV.
Max turned his head on the pillow to face them, and a slow, smile spread across his face. His hair was disheveled, his face haggard, and when he spoke, he sounded weak and very tired. “Hey.”
Irene smiled faintly and walked over to the bed where she gently took his free hand in her own.
“How’re you feeling?” Luke questioned as he and Blake moved farther into the room.
Max’s lips twitched with amusement as he said, “I’ve been better.”
“No kidding,” Luke joked.
“Irene told us what happened,” Blake said. “Luke and I would have been here sooner, but we weren’t able to leave the Richards’ – the police showed up and arrested Tweed.”
That statement triggered Max’s memory of all that had happened at the Paul Revere Mall up until the moment when Bryson was about to kill him. When he spoke, his face and voice were full of confusion. “How did the police know about my meeting with Bryson? If they hadn’t shown up when they did . . . I’d be dead.”
“Someone must have tipped them off,” Luke reasoned, “otherwise how could they have known? Did the police tell you how they found out about it, Irene?”
The men’s attent
ion shifted to her, and they waited to see if she could shed some light on what had taken place since she’d arrived only moments after the police.
They looked at her questioningly. When she spoke, she sounded somewhat hesitant. “The police knew about the meeting because . . . I called and told them.”
The men couldn’t hide their surprise, primarily due to the fact that they’d agreed not to involve the police until they had solid evidence. Luke sounded bewildered as he asked, “But how did you know Max was in trouble?” He shook his head. “The police could never have gotten there in time.”
Irene nodded. “You’re right. I called Lieutenant Drake, the detective I met when I was home for my dad’s funeral, before their meeting ever started. I told him that there was some vital evidence concerning my father’s death and that I was worried someone else was going to get seriously hurt.” She swallowed and pushed her hair back before she continued, “They got there just in time. I gave them the recording of your conversation and that’s how they found out about Tweed’s involvement. After that, several officers went to the Richards’ home to arrest her.”
“I can’t believe it. Tweed’s known this whole time who killed your father – and was also involved,” Max said in a state of disbelief.
“It sounds like the district attorney is in the process of getting a search warrant to see if Tweed still has my dad’s watch and wallet,” she added.
Luke shook his head. “It was one thing for her to go along with the blackmail, but why risk hiding something like murder?”
“She probably thought that the police would find out about the blackmail money if she told anyone about the murder,” Irene clarified, “so, she kept her mouth shut.” She thought to herself for a moment. “It’s not too surprising she didn’t say anything. If she has my dad’s stuff like Bryson said, how do you explain something like that to the police?”
“You don’t,” Luke joked, “not without implicating yourself in the process.”
Everyone in the room was quiet for a moment as they contemplated all that had happened just a few short hours ago. At last, Blake let out a deep sigh and broke the silence. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Max, Luke, and Irene exchanged glances for a moment but then looked back at Blake as he continued, “I realize that you’re a reporter Max and that by nature you have to know what happened, but no story is worth getting killed over.”
He half-smiled, but when he spoke, his voice sounded serious. “I didn’t do it for the story.” Blake looked slightly confused, and he waited for him to elaborate. Max looked intently at Irene, and their gazes locked as he added, “I did it for something – someone far more important to me than any story ever could be.”
Epilogue
The New Year
It was some time after the night at the Paul Revere Mall that life for Irene slowly returned to normal. Bryson was dead. The police found the judge’s missing watch and wallet at Tweed’s home, and she remained incarcerated awaiting trial for her role in Duncan’s murder. With these events came resolution, but there also came renewed media attention. Reporters once again bombarded Irene as well as her close acquaintances for any salacious details concerning her father. After numerous strained and exhaustive days, the nightmare of all the events that had taken place during the past several months began to fade, and for the first time, Irene felt free from the troubles of the past.
Max had nearly recovered from the injuries he sustained at the historic square, and Sarah Jane was making steady progress as well. It wouldn’t be long before they both made a full recovery.
Max observed how with each passing day, Irene became more and more lighthearted and carefree. Her eyes shown brightly once again, and her smile was vivacious and alive. This was the Irene that he remembered. On the other hand, he felt the exact opposite. Although he was glad that her father’s murder had finally been solved, Max knew that there was little to keep Irene in Boston and that it wouldn’t be long before she decided to go back to Paris. He couldn’t suppress his fear that one day, when he woke up, she would be gone – and that all the time they’d spent together over the last several months would seem like nothing more than a beautiful dream – one that would forever haunt his memory.
One night, several weeks later, Max came over to pick Irene up for a casual dinner party Luke and Sarah Jane were hosting. After everything they’d all been through, Luke thought it was time to celebrate, and in the near future he and Sarah Jane would be celebrating their upcoming engagement as well. Max’s mood was far from celebratory – he’d been brooding for the past several days about Irene. He knew he couldn’t postpone the inevitable forever. At some point, he was going to have to ask about her plans and whether or not she was returning to Europe.
Max had arrived at Irene’s house earlier than planned. Outside the front door, he took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves before letting himself inside. He stepped into the foyer and shut the door behind him. He scanned the entryway and listened for some indication as to her whereabouts. “Irene,” he called.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she responded.
Max walked into the kitchen and saw her reaching inside the oven. She removed a dessert that she’d been baking and set it on a cooling rack. She smiled at him as she set down the hot pads. “Hey, I didn’t think you were coming by until later.” He smiled at her in response, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His reaction didn’t go unnoticed by her. When she spoke again, her smile had vanished, and she sounded worried, “Is everything okay?”
He shook his head. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down slightly before he raised his eyes to hers once again. “No, everything isn’t okay.”
From his response, she deduced where this conversation was going, and she felt a sense of dread. After all that had happened recently between them, she had been certain that things were going to be different this time around, but she couldn’t curb the uneasy feeling she suddenly had. Her mind flashed back to the night six years ago at Max’s apartment in New York when she’d told him she loved him and then learned he didn’t feel the same. Although a great deal of time had passed since then, her memory of that night was anything but vague. She linked her fingers together nervously and then looked away from him. When she spoke, he could hear the uncertainty and self-consciousness in her voice. “I assume you’re referring to . . . us.”
He nodded, “Good assumption.” Max scrutinized Irene carefully, hoping for any indication of what she was thinking, but he could read nothing in her distant expression.
She turned her back to him and walked a few steps farther away. She hoped the distance would make things easier for her. She was afraid that when he told her yet again that she had misunderstood their relationship, she wouldn’t be able to keep her composure. She bit her lip as a tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away briskly before he could see and then turned around to face him. “It’s all right, Max. You don’t have to explain.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion as Irene continued, “I never would have made it through the last few months without you, and it was fun while it lasted . . . but the last thing I want is for you to feel obligated.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she quickly added, “You feel bad about how things ended between us years ago, and you feel sorry for me because of my dad, and you’re trying to make things right now.”
He couldn’t have been more shocked, and she couldn’t have been more mistaken. His wanting to be with her now had nothing to do with her father or his previous error in judgment. He wanted to be with her because he was desperately in love with her – and he was almost certain that she was in love with him as well.
His mouth turned into a half-smile – but this time his smile reached his eyes. Before she could go on, he said, “Obligated? Is that what you think?”
She was too nervous to respond, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She was afraid that if she did, h
e would be able to see exactly what she was thinking and know just how much she was in love with him.
There was silence for a moment while Max waited for her to comment. When she still didn’t reply, he said entreatingly, “Look at me.” She raised her eyes to his slowly, her heart was racing, and she couldn’t breathe. “Irene . . . I can’t believe you’d think that after all this time. That’s very generous of you, but I’m not that noble.” She studied him carefully, and he continued to explain, “I thought it was obvious how I feel about you . . . I love you, and I want to be with you.” He took a deep breath and looked her squarely in the face. “That night at the Paul Revere Mall I asked you not to leave me, and I’m asking you again. Don’t go back to Paris. Stay in Boston. Stay here . . . with me.”
Irene wiped her hand over her wet cheeks and bit her lower lip. She paused before she spoke as she tried to get a handle on her emotions. “I told my aunt and ballet company weeks ago that I wasn’t coming back – I just hadn’t told you yet. I didn’t know for sure if that’s what you wanted.”
“Well, now you do.” He quickly closed the distance between them. He walked over to where she stood and stopped in front of her. He took her face gently between his hands and tilted her head up to look at him as he wiped away her tears. “Boston’s your home, Irene. It’s where you belong – and we belong together.”
She smiled at him, her beautiful eyes sparkling in subtle invitation. Max needed no further encouragement. He leaned down and kissed her firmly and completely on the mouth. They were both no longer uncertain about what the future would bring – and as a result – at last held nothing back.
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