her. She played the innocent so well. But he wasn’t falling for it this time. “Very well. My lawyer will be in touch with you.” He pulled on his coat and gloves. “I’m going to make certain that you’re prosecuted for attempted fraud.”
“Fine!” she said through gritted teeth. “Just go!”
Garek stepped toward the door. “My lawyer will also make certain that your lunatic cousin is sent back to jail—”
“Robbie?” For the first time Garek saw a crack in her facade. She shut the door abruptly. “You can’t do that. Robbie didn’t mean any harm—”
“Holding a gun on a person usually qualifies as intending harm. He belongs in prison—”
“He just needs a chance,” she said fiercely. “If you do anything to hurt Robbie, I’ll…I’ll tell the whole story about our marriage to the tabloids.”
So that was how she intended to turn the situation to her advantage. He’d known she must have some plan up her sleeve. His anger, which had begun to fade, flared up to new heights. “Do whatever the hell you like,” he snarled. “I really don’t give a damn.”
He opened the door and strode out of the apartment. Head bent against the cold wind, he silently cursed himself for believing, just for a moment, that she was as innocent as she looked.
Chapter Ten
Garek worked long, hard hours the next week. Other than giving his lawyer a terse explanation and an even terser set of instructions, he did not think of Eleanor Hernandez at all—except, perhaps, when he chanced to glance at the abstract painting hanging on his wall. Then he couldn’t quite control the acid burn in his stomach.
He was searching his desk drawer for a roll of antacids as he talked on the phone to his production manager late Friday afternoon, when the door opened and Larry Larson, head of the legal department for Wisnewski Industries, entered the office.
“Let me get back to you, Ed.” Garek hung up the phone, his gaze on Larry’s face. “Well?”
“I’ve got good news and bad news.” Larry sat down, carefully positioning the fall of his jacket as he seated himself.He had a fondness for expensive suits and a tendency to comb his hair across the bald spot on his crown, but he was an excellent lawyer, intelligent and efficient, and Garek knew he could count on him for sound advice.
“Go on,” Garek said.
“The good news is that I spoke to several experts and they confirmed what I told you initially—any marriage involving coercion is automatically invalid. Also, after careful research, I’ve discovered that virtually every state refuses to recognize Internet marriage licenses. Ms. Hernandez will have a very difficult time making any claim against you.”
Garek leaned back in his chair, his hard gaze not leaving the lawyer’s face. “And the bad news?”
“The bad news—ah.” Larry cleared his throat and adjusted his cuff. “The bad news is that coercion can be a difficult thing to prove. She could claim that the two of you married of your own free will. Then it would be her word against yours. Also, one or two states do recognize Internet marriage licenses. Vermont, for example, recognizes just about anything as a marriage. And unfortunately, Caspar Egilbert is a legally ordained minister, even though the university he obtained his degree from is somewhat suspect. The unpleasant truth is that although I have no doubt that we would ultimately be successful, I’m afraid Ms. Hernandez could involve us in a very messy, very embarrassing court case and the resulting publicity would not be good for the company. Stockholders want their CEOs to be above reproach these days—”
“I don’t care about the damn stockholders.” The anger Garek had been controlling all week flared dangerously high. “I’m not paying her one dime—”
“Yes, yes,” Larry said hastily, fingering the knot of his tie. “Fortunately, that won’t be necessary. If you’ll look in this file, you’ll see that I’ve taken care of all the paperwork.”
Hard satisfaction replaced the burn in Garek’s stomach. He took the thick file from Larry and opened it. Inside on top was a document giving him ownership of the gallery. He picked up a pen. “Did the accountant go over the books?”
“Yes, everything was in order. Although there was one thing that seemed a bit odd…”
Tensing, Garek glanced up. “What?”
“A donation to the Art Institute a few days ago.”
“What’s so odd about that?”
“The artist was paid five thousand for the work. Coincidentally, a check you’d made out to Ms. Hernandez was cashed the same day…”