The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream) Page 2

  Seth still didn’t know what was to come, nor did Sterling have the intention of telling him any time soon. His son had enough trouble dealing with reality. Finding out about Sterling’s prognosis would only exasperate the situation. No, Sterling would keep his diagnosis to himself. He took a long pull on his drink.

  What’s going to happen to my son? An amusing but highly disturbing picture of Seth dressed in a polyester uniform and asking if someone wanted fries with his order crossed his mind. What I’d give to see him drag in after working his ass off for one damn day!

  Sterling felt the guilt drape over him like a shroud. He’d raised Seth since the boy was four, spoiling Seth rotten because he looked so damned much like his late mother. God, how he missed Brenda. She would have known what to do. She would have known how to fix this.

  “Soon, Bren. We’ll be together again soon.”

  Finishing the last finger of scotch, Sterling tried to formulate a plan, Seth’s last hope for a good dose of reality. Somehow, someway, he would figure out how to save his son. Seth needed to learn what life was like for people who had nothing, people who worked from before the sun rose until long after it set—just like the people who took care of Sterling’s racehorses. Suddenly thoughts flew through his head like shooting stars.

  In his mind’s eye, a face appeared. Her face.

  Katie Murphy.

  “Now why didn’t I think about this sooner?”

  Putting his empty glass on the desk and picking up the phone, Sterling dialed the familiar number. “Arthur? Yes, I know it’s five in the morning. Of course I know you’re home. I called you. I don’t care if you are... Please, will you just listen to me for a second? I’ll be at your office at nine. We’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter 2

  God, he was tired of the press.

  The damn media had set up shop a week ago just outside the compound’s security gates when word of Sterling’s imminent death had been released. Their numbers doubled when the Old Man had passed a few days later. All the Schaumburg police would do to control the chaos was keep the reporters off private property.

  Looking out of the window of his suite, Seth scowled at the big vans with their satellite dishes and broadcast equipment mounted on the roofs. Scurrying around like cockroaches, correspondents held microphones and told their version of the events to the news-hungry public. The talking heads all dressed like “Stepford” reporters, and each told the same story, the same half-truths—there was no heir to the throne.

  Seth let the heavy drapes fall back into place and allowed his attention to wander to the plasma television. A blond bimbo in a navy blue dress drawled, “The future of Remington Computers now rests in the hands of the late Sterling Remington’s playboy son, Seth. Wall Street’s reaction has been swift and severe.”

  “Screw you.”

  The obligatory pictures of Seth as a boy appeared. Brenda Remington’s face suddenly crossed the high-definition screen, and Seth could feel the tears forming. God, he didn’t want to think about his mother now. Fighting the wave of sorrow, Seth scrubbed the tears away with the back of his hands and swallowed the memories.

  He’d had enough grief to deal with for one day.

  The bimbo reporter just wouldn’t shut up. “Often described as a young Mel Gibson, the twenty-nine year old Remington heir has been named one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  As the correspondent droned on and on about Seth’s less than savory activities, the pictures showed him aging to adolescence. By the time the shots of his car wrecks or the pseudo-celebrities he’d dated in the last few years had their turn on the screen, Seth had seen more than enough. He grabbed the remote and banished the reporter to ratings hell.

  He finally answered the insistent ringing of the phone when the caller ID flashed Kirsten’s cell. He refused to offer a polite greeting. “I can’t believe you didn’t show.”

  “I wanted to, Baby. You know I did. I just hate facing the press.”

  “Why, I’m doing fine, Kirsten. Thanks so much for asking.”

  “Stop being sarcastic. You know I didn’t want to see myself on CNN. I’ll try to come over later tonight if you want. Maybe I can sneak past the press. Will you call me when you get back from Chicago?”

  Chicago. He’d almost forgotten he had one more ordeal on this miserable day. “Yeah, I’ll call.” He ended the call and pitched the phone next to the abandoned remote control.

  The Old Man’s funeral had been a circus, and Seth wanted nothing more than to have a couple of beers and collapse. If he tried to sneak out and go for a long, relaxing drive, the bloodhounds would just follow him. Judging from his dark mood, he’d probably wreck another car.

  None of his friends or his fiancée had come to be by his side. He’d stood in the cold cemetery with only Arthur LaGrange offering moral support. Seth had done his father proud—no tears, no display of emotion, nothing embarrassing to report. He stood straight as an arrow when the hundreds of bereaved paid their respects. Most of them he didn’t even know. Probably his father’s business associates who wanted to curry his favor. He would, after all, be inheriting Remington Computers. They’d have to get used to kissing Seth’s ass now instead of Sterling’s.

  His father was gone—the last of Seth’s family. Sterling now lay entombed in the big Remington crypt in the Mount Hope Cemetery alongside his beloved wife. The enormity of Seth’s loss hadn’t entirely hit him, but he knew it would. Eventually.

  A loud knock drew him away from his thoughts. He walked across the large room and opened the door to face his father’s closest friend.

  “Are you ready?” Arthur asked.

  “As ready as I can be under the circumstances. We’re heading to your office to read the will?”

  Arthur nodded. “Let’s hope we can sneak by the reporters. It took forever for me to get through the damn gate. I think we ought to go out by the stables.”

  “Good idea. Only the servants use that entrance.” Seth suddenly thought about the horses in the big barn. He’d never even stepped foot in the place, but arrangements would have to be made to sell the Old Man’s racehorses. The profit didn’t matter, but the idea of his father’s beloved animals being neglected for even a day didn’t sit well with him. “Did Pops leave any instructions about his racehorses?”

  Arthur shook his head. “No, your father took care of them before he died. Most of the horses left last week.”

  Seth hadn’t even noticed. “Where’d they go?”

  “He wanted to thank his trainers for all their hard work, so he gave the horses to them. He didn’t want his animals to end up with strangers. The last one is getting picked up tonight.”

  One less thing to worry about.

  Seth sent the enormous limousine out of the front gate to lure the paparazzi on a wild goose chase. He and Arthur simply disappeared through the back entrance in a much less interesting Honda Accord. Seth found enormous satisfaction in fooling the few reporters camped out near the rear gate. They’d never even bothered to take a good look through the tinted glass. He assumed the media thought they were servants leaving their jobs for the day. Once they had reached the inbound Chicago traffic, he felt as if he could finally breathe again.

  “Couldn’t this wait a few days?” Seth finally asked the gray-haired attorney as he watched the approaching skyline with very little interest.

  “Your father never waited for anything. Told me that he wanted to go out the way he lived. Organized and prompt.”

  Seth almost laughed at the statement. His father had truly lived by those rules. “I guess you’re right. I just don’t see why we couldn’t do this at the compound. I’ll have to run the gauntlet when we get back. Those damn vultures will be there for the next month.”

  “Seth, if you weren’t rich, what would you do? For a living, I mean,” Arthur asked as he negotiated the increasing flow of traffic.

  Such a strange query, one Seth
had never expected. Why in the hell would he ask something like that? Seth’s stomach tightened. The old lawyer was up to something. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. Just... curious.”

  Arthur sounded a little too sincere. Seth finally answered honestly. “I have absolutely no idea. Never had to think about it before.”

  “Why didn’t you want to work with your father?”

  “I studied psychology. Remember? It’s not like it set me up to do much at Remington Computers.” He gave a sardonic laugh. “Besides, that was his realm, not mine.”

  “There’s nothing you’d want to do if you had the choice?”

  Seth wondered for a moment if the lawyer’s insistence on an answer should raise any alarms. Nothing about the question seemed too sinister, so he decided to indulge the man. “I suppose I could always race cars or paint houses. I could even do landscaping. Who the hell knows? I’m glad I don’t have to worry about it.”

  Arthur visibly winced at his remarks. Seth chose to ignore him for the rest of the trip.

  Pulling into the underground parking garage, Arthur steered the Honda into a reserved space next to the private elevator leading directly to the thirtieth floor law offices of O’Connor, LaGrange, Rowland, and Associates. Exiting the car, the two men rode the elevator in silence.

  A pert brunette receptionist greeted them both and handed Arthur a thick stack of pink phone messages. Seth watched her gaze drop to her desk and then return wide-eyed back to him as if she suddenly recognized his face. Then she plastered on one of the smiles he’d seen too many women use as an invitation. Since she wasn’t his type, he tried to look bored. Hell, he was bored.

  Arthur rifled through his messages and voiced his appreciation to the receptionist, but she had already answered another call. “Let’s go to the conference room,” he said as he gestured toward a long hallway.

  They arrived outside the ornate glass enclosure. Two people sat inside at the conference table. He’d never seen either of them before. Perhaps they lingered around from a meeting that had ended, but they couldn’t be there to hear Sterling’s last bequeaths.

  The will would be simple enough. He was the sole heir.

  The brown-haired man dressed in Armani sitting next to the woman leaned toward her as if absolutely absorbed with what she was saying. Seth knew that kind of body language; the man found her attractive. The guy was built like a football player, which made the woman appear tiny in comparison. The closer he leaned in to hear what she had to say, the smaller he made her look. Seth almost felt sorry for her.

  Arthur opened the door and ushered Seth inside. The Neanderthal stood in greeting. The woman just sat looking entirely bewildered and a bit out of place in her tight green polo shirt and khaki pants.

  Now, she’s more my style. She had enormous eyes. Green eyes. And her hair held the most incredible mixture of red and blond. Long, wavy tresses brushed her shoulders, and the light picked up some the blond, making her appear to have a halo surrounding her oval face.

  “Ross, nice to see you,” Arthur said as he shook the man’s hand. “Miss Murphy, thank you for coming on such short notice.” He gave the young woman a quick nod.

  She returned the gesture. “You’re welcome, but I still don’t know why I’m here.”

  She’s nervous. Perhaps the thought came from watching her teeth gently pulling on her bottom lip. Perhaps Seth hoped he might be able to offer her comfort. Either way, he was a bit surprised he could so easily understand her thoughts.

  Captivated by her, he lost track of how long he’d been gaping until Arthur loudly cleared his throat. The other people in the room now stared at Seth. “Sorry,” he offered, walking to the huge mahogany table to wait for the reading of his father’s last wishes. When the man and woman didn’t make any move to leave, he drummed his fingers on the polished wood. Turning to Arthur, he said, “I assumed this would be private.”

  “Seth Remington, I’d like you to meet Ross Kennedy and Kathleen Murphy,” the lawyer replied.

  The woman smiled at her introduction, and Seth took all of her into his mind. She was small but looked to have the type of physical strength most men would kill to possess. Not overtly muscular, but her arms reminded him of a starlet he’d once dated who hired a professional trainer to prepare her for an action flick. The redheaded angel obviously worked out. A lot.

  Reaching out to shake Ross’s offered hand first, Seth immediately noticed the man liked to use intimidation from the start. He applied a forceful grip, but Seth gave back as good as he received.

  Seth reached across the table to take the angel’s hand. She gave a small chuckle. “It’s Katie. Please. My grandfather is the only one who ever calls me Kathleen, and that’s when he’s mad at me.”

  Seth grinned at her, pleased when she offered him another of her alluring smiles in return. Her voice had a slight twang to its soft lilt.

  This one was his type. Exactly his type. He figured he’d invite her out for a quiet supper after he found out the extent of his inheritance. They could go to Vivo—it served great pasta. And then afterward maybe they could get his usual room at the Palmer House.

  Perhaps she was exactly what he needed to help him forget this wretched day.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Katie. I know your meeting is done, but if you’re not in a hurry, I’d love to take you to dinner. I shouldn’t be too long.”

  Katie shot him a puzzled stare. “This is my meeting. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  That was the last thing Seth expected to hear. He’d been concentrating so hard on his plans for the redhead, it suddenly dawned on him that he hadn’t been paying much attention when Arthur had introduced them. He whirled on Arthur, not even trying to hide his frustration. “What’s she mean? Waiting on me?”

  Closing the conference room double doors and walking to the head of the large table, Arthur replied, “Sit down, Seth, and I’ll explain. Ross, please have a seat.”

  As Seth and Ross settled into their chairs, Arthur picked up a remote control from the table. He pointed it at the wood-paneled wall and pushed a button. In response, the wall opened, revealing a large flat screen television.

  “I used to say ‘open sesame,’ but my secretary told me no one got the joke anymore,” Arthur said.

  Katie was the only one to laugh. Arthur favored her with a kind smile and a wink that made Seth think the old codger liked flirting with her.

  Seth couldn’t conceal his growing irritation. The day had already been trying enough. “Arthur, I just don’t—” He stopped talking when Arthur pressed another button and Sterling Remington appeared on the screen. Seth’s heart pounded like a jackhammer as he stared at the face he hadn’t expected to see again so soon.

  Arthur paused the image. The still picture jerked from time to time, but the Old Man simply sat there with one of his determined expressions. Seth felt a shiver run the length of his spine. This just wasn’t right. “When did he make this tape?”

  Arthur put the remote down on top of a large file sitting on the tabletop. “Calm down, Seth, and I’ll explain.” Arthur slowly glanced around the room. “I’ve brought you all together because it was Sterling’s wish you meet before we go over the provisions of his will. Ross is an attorney at this firm who’s handled more and more of Sterling’s business dealings lately.” A melancholy smile crossed his face for a moment. “I was going to hand all of Sterling’s legal matters over to Ross when I retired next year, but...”

  “Like I told you on the phone,” Katie interrupted, “I hardly knew the man. Why am I here?”

  “Patience, Katie. Please. I’ll get to it,” Arthur replied. “Seth, Ross is the one who helped me draft your father’s will. His new will.”

  “New will? Pops never told me he wrote a new will.” Seth’s stomach clenched and a wave of nausea quickly followed. His father had gone to the effort to write a new will. He knew Sterling had been angry after he’d wrecked the Porsche, but why a new will? Shit! Did he cut
me off? The cryptic question Arthur posed earlier flew through his mind. What if I’m left with nothing? Where will I go?

  Ross answered Seth. “Your father asked us to tape it. He came to us a few months ago. I think it was right after you totaled the last Porsche.”

  His father had been keeping secrets. The Old Man had made the new will because he knew he was dying months before he’d shared the news with his son. “He already knew. He was sick, and he didn’t even tell me. Shit, I’ve only known for three weeks.” That would be just like the Old Man to play his cards so close to his vest.

  Arthur intervened. “Yes, Seth. He’d already heard the news from his doctor. After the accident... Well, let me allow him to explain it.” Arthur picked up the remote and hit another button. Sterling Remington’s image came to life.

  “I hate these things.” Sterling’s booming voice filled the room. “I never sound like myself and I sure don’t look like myself.”

  Seth couldn’t suppress a rueful laugh. God, how he would miss the Old Man.

  “Well, looks like my time is just about up. Before I go any further, I want to say something to my son. Seth, you’re not going to like me very much when this tape is over. In fact, I’d guess you’re going to hate me. But what I’m doing is for you. I love you, son. I do. Your mother loved you too. We waited so long to have you. Maybe I never told you enough how important you are to me. Maybe I could have been a better father. But I won’t live with regrets. Hell, I’m not going to live long enough to have too many more things to regret. Water under the bridge anyway.

  “Ross, thanks for helping me get this put together so quickly. You know what to do and how to handle it. I’m putting a lot of trust in you. See that you don’t disappoint me.”