Ashes (Web of Desire #3) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,104

They each made plausible explanations in their minds for the coming and going of cars at all hours. That’s what people do. They see what they want to believe. I won’t stand up at the tournament and declare that Marion Elliott, esteemed oilman, bought me. However, maybe if I’m there, I can distract him or Andros for your benefit. Please…” I looked from man to man. “I want to help.”

Patrick exhaled. “Elliott is our wild card in this whole thing. Why is he loyal to Ivanov?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I get the feeling that things go way back. Marion admitted being at my auction in McFadden’s home. Before I knew that, he mentioned something about being friends with a politician—”

“We can assume McFadden,” Sterling interjected.

I tried to think back. “He also mentioned Antonio Hillman’s mother. I think her name is Ruth.”

Everyone nodded.

“Marion said they were very nice and helpful after the death of his wife and daughter.”

Sterling shook his head. “Ruth is Wendell’s only wife. He never had a daughter, only Antonio.”

“No,” I corrected. “Marion’s wife and daughter. It happened over thirty years ago. He lost both of them in a small plane crash.”

All four men looked from one to the other.

“I don’t recall that information,” Reid said. “I thought I knew what there was to know about the guy.”

I shrugged. “When I looked him up before the Chicago tournament, I found one reference to him marrying young, then nothing else. He told me that it was too personal and painful, saying he paid the right people to keep the story buried. I told him the world is different today. One tweet can go viral lightning fast. Damage control doesn’t work as well as paying off the major news outlets thirty years ago did.”

Patrick’s brow furrowed. “So he lost his wife and daughter more than ten years before he was at the auction?”

I nodded.

“How many other auctions did he attend?” Sterling asked.

“Right,” Patrick concurred. “It’s hard to imagine his first was over ten years later.”

“I didn’t think of that,” I said. “I remember…” I let out a long sigh. “…it was so long ago.”

“What?” Reid asked. “If you don’t mind sharing.”

My lips pursed in contemplation. “It’s not that. I just sometimes wonder what are real memories and what are ones I conjured in my mind.”

“What do you think you remember?” Patrick asked.

“That I thought it was weird to be on display in front of nearly thirty men with servers entering and exiting the room. There was a woman, like a housekeeper, who delivered me to the library. I was blindfolded and practically nude then. It was unreal and unnerving, and yet to everyone around me, it seemed like a normal evening’s festivities.”

Though his eyes darkened, Sterling nodded. “I would assume you weren’t the first or the last.”

“So who thinks that evening was Elliott’s first time in attendance?” Patrick asked.

“You said earlier that his connection was Wendell Hillman,” Mason said. “I think his mourning time is over. We need someone on the inside of the prison to pay him a visit and provide us with information.”

“Ten dollars says the senior Hillman was also present,” Sterling said.

My circulation slowed, pooling to my feet. “Marion confirmed that Antonio had been. You’re saying maybe his father too?”

The men shrugged.

“Nothing like a father-son outing to an auction of a naked, pregnant woman to ensure bonding.” My sarcasm was evident.

“I wouldn’t have put it past my father.”

Pulling my hand away from Patrick’s, I ran my palms over the coarse material of my blue jeans, bringing warmth to my suddenly cooled skin.

“Hillman is gone,” Patrick reassured.

“And so is our father,” Sterling added.

Inhaling, I nodded.

Reid stood. “Now that I know I missed something that significant about Elliott, I need to search more thoroughly. I’ll be downstairs.”

Everyone else nodded.

“The tournament starts Thursday night,” Mason said. He looked at Patrick. “She would be a good distraction. I doubt Elliott expects her to show.”

Look at me.

Without turning to Patrick, I announced, “I’ll do it.”

“Madeline—”

“Let me make my own decision for once in my life,” I said, interrupting Patrick. “I have all of you. Do I need to be afraid that Marion or Andros will try to kidnap me?” It was an odd question, but these were odd circumstances.

“No, you’ll be safe. We’ll ensure that,” Sterling said.

“And Ruby?” I asked.

“She isn’t leaving here,” Patrick said.

“She will be safe,” Sterling reassured.

“Then it’s set. I can’t let the four of you and your men fight my battles without something from me.”

I turned,

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