Chapter 8 - THE KING WALKS BACK IN
Everett Kane entered his own chapel leaning on a cane.
He looked terrible.
Pale.
Thinner than every photograph Chicago remembered.
But he was standing.
Behind him were six men in dark coats.
Crowley stood among them.
Sterling’s face lost all color.
“You’re dead.”
Everett’s voice remained rough.
“Disappointing?”
Sterling pointed the gun toward him.
The men behind Everett immediately raised theirs.
Willa stepped toward Ruth.
“Mom, come here.”
Sterling grabbed Ruth by the shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
Everett stopped.
His eyes fixed on Sterling’s hand.
“Take your hand off her.”
Sterling laughed.
“You can barely stand.”
Everett’s expression didn’t change.
“I only need one finger to pull a trigger.”
One of Everett’s men smiled faintly.
Sterling looked around.
“You think they’re loyal to you?”
“No.”
Everett’s answer surprised everyone.
He continued.
“I think they hate you.”
Sterling’s eyes moved toward the men.
None lowered their weapons.
Willa watched Ruth.
Her mother was staring at Everett.
Then Ruth whispered, “James.”
Everett frowned.
“My father.”
Ruth nodded rapidly.
“James Kane.”
Mara, entering through the side door, froze.
“You knew our father?”
Ruth pressed one trembling hand against her temple.
“He tried to stop them.”
Sterling shouted, “Enough!”
Ruth flinched.
Willa stepped forward.
“Sterling, take me instead.”
“No.”
“You need my signature, right?”
Sterling’s eyes narrowed.
“You still need the surviving spouse to control Everett’s shares.”
Everett looked at her.
Willa continued.
“If you kill my mother, I will burn every document you put in front of me.”
Sterling hesitated.
That was all Everett needed.
He struck Sterling’s gun hand with the cane.
The weapon fired into the ceiling.
Willa pulled Ruth down.
Gunmen surged.
Sterling fought desperately.
Everett’s men disarmed two guards.
Crowley punched another.
Within seconds Sterling was on his knees.
Everett stood over him.
For eight months, Sterling had spoken around Everett’s bed as though he were furniture.
Now Everett looked down at him.
“What happened to my brakes?”
Sterling spat blood.
“Go to hell.”
Everett lifted the cane.
Willa caught his arm.
“No.”
His eyes turned toward her.
“Not like this.”
“He tried to kill your mother.”
“And if you kill him now, he becomes silent forever.”
Everett stared at Sterling.
Then lowered the cane.
“Basement.”
Two men dragged Sterling away.
Willa helped Ruth sit.
“Mom.”
Ruth touched Willa’s face.
“You cut your hair.”
Willa laughed through tears.
“I did that six years ago.”
“Oh.”
Then Ruth’s eyes became distant.
The clarity vanished.
Willa’s heart broke all over again.
Everett watched.
His expression softened.
Later, they gathered in Everett’s former office.
For the first time since his accident, he sat behind his own desk.
His body looked too thin for the enormous leather chair.
But something had changed.
The room belonged to him again.
Sterling was locked in an underground wine room with guards.
The false ledger lay on the desk.
The real one remained safe.
Mara poured coffee.
Naomi examined Ruth.
Everett questioned Crowley.
“How many?”
“Forty-one men answered your call.”
“Used to be three hundred.”
“You were legally dead this morning.”
“Fair.”
Willa almost smiled.
Ruth suddenly looked toward a portrait of Everett’s father.
James Kane.
Her breathing changed.
“Mom?”
Ruth pointed.
“He came to my apartment.”
“When?”
“After the children.”
Willa knelt beside her.
“What children?”
Ruth’s eyes filled with fear.
“The hospital children.”
“Tell me.”
“I found bills.”
“What bills?”
“Transport invoices. Children who never arrived.”
Mara moved closer.
Ruth continued.
“I told Mr. Allison.”
Willa’s heart sank.
“You told Grant Allison?”
“He was my boss.”
“What happened?”
“He smiled.”
Those words echoed Everett’s description.
Allison had smiled when confronted by everyone.
“And then?”
“James Kane came.”
Everett leaned forward.
“My father?”
Ruth nodded.
“He said he believed me.”
Everett’s hands tightened.
“What did he do?”
Ruth looked at him.
“He gave me names.”
“What names?”
“Police. Lawyers. A reporter.”
“Did you contact them?”
“I tried.”
Her hands began trembling.
“Then James died.”
Mara inhaled sharply.
James Kane had died twenty-one years ago from what the family believed was a sudden heart attack.
Everett’s voice changed.
“How soon?”
“Three days.”
Nobody spoke.
Everett looked toward his father’s portrait.
For decades he had accepted the official story.
Now another possibility entered the room.
Willa asked, “What happened to you afterward?”
Ruth touched her temple.
“Dr. Whitfield said I was exhausted.”
Naomi looked up sharply.
“He treated you?”
Ruth nodded.
“He gave me something to sleep.”
Willa felt nausea.
“How long?”
“I don’t remember.”
The irony hurt.
Ruth had been one of Whitfield’s earliest victims.
Possibly his longest.
Everett stood too quickly.
His legs buckled.
Willa caught him.
“Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“You died for ninety seconds yesterday.”
“I improved.”
“That is not how medicine works.”
For a moment they stared at each other.
Then Everett actually smiled.
A small, exhausted smile.
Mara noticed.
“So that’s interesting.”
Willa ignored her.
A guard entered.
“Mr. Kane.”
Everett looked up.
“Sterling wants to talk.”
“Of course he does.”
“He says Allison is coming.”
“When?”
The guard swallowed.
“He says Allison was never trying to hide.”
A sound rolled across the estate.
Helicopter blades.
Everyone looked toward the windows.
A black helicopter descended onto the lawn.
Everett stood again.
This time Willa did not stop him.
Three vehicles approached the front gates simultaneously.
Mara checked the security feed.
Police.
Federal-looking SUVs.
Private security.
“Allison brought everyone,” she whispered.
Everett looked at Willa.
“No.”
May you like
He reached for the gun Crowley had placed on the desk.
“He brought whichever side he already owns.”
