Betrayal - Fern Michaels [91]
Leave it to Debbie to figure money into whatever the man wanted. She could be right. Why else would he be looking for Kate if not to tell her Alex’s fortune was hers? “I’ll check Caller ID for his number. Hold on.” He looked at the clear plate on the handheld phone. “It’s 550-9188.”
“I’ll call you back,” Debbie said, then hung up on him.
Figures. The greedy bitch is at work already. But if she comes up with some extra cash, more power to her.
Don Winter was past wanting to open his own office. His brain was fried from drinking too much. Besides, he was beyond caring at this stage of the game.
Suddenly a thought occurred to him. An epiphany, you could say. He had a treasure chest of secrets he could use to blackmail his wife.
Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Too much alcohol, he supposed. He’d back off for a while. See what she came up with on Fitzpatrick. If there was nothing to gain from him financially, maybe it was time he started making his wife pay for her sins.
Yes, it was time Debbie was punished for all her lies.
And he knew just where to hit her.
Right in the good old pocketbook.
No one valued money more than his wife.
No one.
Debbie wondered what Alex’s attorney could want. It had to be more than searching for Kate. He had an investigator. If he wanted to find her that badly, he would have. No, she knew it had to be something else. She knew Fitzpatrick was the last man, outside of the inmates, to see Alex alive. Could he have known something he shouldn’t have? Had Alex revealed the secret that he swore he would take to his grave? She doubted it, but she wasn’t going to take a chance. Because of her secret, she’d never had to worry about finances. If Don had known, he would have sweated bullets. After all these years, he was still mooching off the money good old Alex had put in trust for Emily, with Debbie as the trustee. She laughed at the thought, but Alex’s money had also enabled her to open her own real estate office, which in turn supported Don’s drinking habits and Sara’s eating habits. Emily, though unbeknownst to her, would never have to worry where her next meal was coming from. Let her think good old Mom was working her ass off to send her to that stupid animal school. She was so much like Alex it was pathetic. Animal lover. Friend of the friendless. An aid to the elderly. It almost made her gag, Emily was such a do-gooder. At least she didn’t have to look at her. She called now and then, but had never returned home since her high school graduation.
No one else knew her secret. Except Sara, the nosy little bitch. All those years ago, she’d overheard her and Alex talking about Emily. They had planned Alex’s downfall, and it had worked. She’d done what she had to do for her family. Anyone else in her shoes would have done the same thing. She never thought Alex would be convicted, but she hadn’t realized what an accomplished actress Sara was. When he was sent to prison, she’d felt a little bit of guilt, but not for long. Alex Rocket thought he was better than most. Well, she would have the last word. Lo and behold, she did, and it was even better than she could have imagined. She wondered what Kate would think if she knew how Alex had betrayed her? Debbie laughed. Maybe she would try to find her, too. Later. For now, she had a phone call to make.
Punching in the numbers, she looked at her nails. She needed a manicure. She would ask her manicurist to start coming to her office. Debbie didn’t have time for such menial tasks.
“Hello,” the male voice said.
“Is this Coleman Fitzpatrick?” Debbie asked in her sweetest voice.
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Debbie Winter. I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you. My husband, he’s not well, called me. He said you called. I’m afraid he can’t be of much help these days. He’s been quite sick for the past few months.”
“Ah, Mrs. Winter. Yes, I spoke to your husband. I explained that I’ve been searching for Mrs. Rocket. I thought there might be an off chance you all might know how to get