Read Online Legacy of Secrets by Elizabeth Adler - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Adler
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get about half what they are owed. The other creditors will get nothing. The employees will not even get a pension, gentlemen, including you and me,
and
his daughter, because that money, invested nicely and safely by me, went the way of all Keeffe money. Dwindled away personally by Bob, bit by bit.”
He opened the door to leave and then he thought of something. He looked contemptuously back at them. “By the way, the SEC investigators and the fraud guys are down at the brokerage house now. I handed everything over to them. All you have to do is hope that I didn’t keep extrazealous records about your own little activities. Goodbye, gentlemen. Have a nice day.”
S HANNON WALKED BLEAKLY through the eighteen-room penthouse overlooking Central Park. The rooms were bare, stripped of their beautiful antique furniture and ornaments. Little brass lights dangled over the blank spaces where her father’s treasured paintings had hung; the lovely Sickerts and the Constables, the Picassos and the Monets. The parquet flooring was scuffed from the moving-men’s feet, and the expensive silk curtains, soon to be ripped out by the interior designer doing over the apartment for the new owner, still hung forlornly at the windows.
Opening the door to her old room, she looked around for the last time. She had lived in this apartment most of her life. She had grown up in this room, as it changed first from childish pink gingham to teenage black and silver, then to simple white with an antique American patchwork quilt.
The only things she could call her own were the inexpensive paintings she had bought herself, the big doll house, her old toys, her books, her clothes, and a few bits of jewelry.
She had never been a “jewelry person,” preferring fashionable costume glitter to real diamonds and pearls. But she had one wonderful necklace. Her father had given it to her when she was eight, on the day he married Buffy. She remembered staring, amazed at the pretty strand of diamonds tied in a love knot.
“Look how it sparkles, Daddy,” she had said, thrilled.
“Not half as much as your eyes, little darlin’,” he had retorted. “Now, you take care of that. It’s by way of bein’ a family heirloom.” And then he had swept her into his arms and carried her off to help cut the wedding cake.
And of course, she had Wil’s engagement ring. They had bought the fine, square-cut three-carat diamond from Cartier. She eyed it anxiously, knowing it had cost more than Wil could afford. He was still only a law student. His father was an attorney and she knew the family was comfortably off, but by her own father’s standards they were not rich.
“Your family’s money is the stuff dreams are made of,” Wil had said to her admiringly. “I’ll never be as rich as your father, Shannon.”
“No matter,” she had replied airily. “I’ll have enough for both of us.”
She quickly closed the outer door with a final click, shutting out a lifetime of memories. As the paneled elevator wooshed softly downward, she had to bite her lip to stop from crying.
She had known the doorman since she was a child, and he was waiting to say good-bye. “I’ll never forget him, Miss Shannon,” he said, folding her hands in his. His weathered red face crumpled suddenly and tears stood in his faded blue eyes. “He was a fine man. As good as they come, and nobody will ever say any different in my company. Best of luck to you, miss.”
Shannon shook his hand and hurried away. She jumped into the little second-hand pickup truck she had bought when she had traded in her beloved black Mercedes 500SL, and headed out of town through the pouring rain.
The Long Island house had not yet been stripped of its furnishings, though the paintings and the finest ornaments had already been sent to Sotheby’s, to be sold separately.
As she drove up, Shannon noticed the auction tent being erected on the big lawn and her heart gave a lurch, remembering the marquee for her
and
his daughter, because that money, invested nicely and safely by me, went the way of all Keeffe money. Dwindled away personally by Bob, bit by bit.”
He opened the door to leave and then he thought of something. He looked contemptuously back at them. “By the way, the SEC investigators and the fraud guys are down at the brokerage house now. I handed everything over to them. All you have to do is hope that I didn’t keep extrazealous records about your own little activities. Goodbye, gentlemen. Have a nice day.”
S HANNON WALKED BLEAKLY through the eighteen-room penthouse overlooking Central Park. The rooms were bare, stripped of their beautiful antique furniture and ornaments. Little brass lights dangled over the blank spaces where her father’s treasured paintings had hung; the lovely Sickerts and the Constables, the Picassos and the Monets. The parquet flooring was scuffed from the moving-men’s feet, and the expensive silk curtains, soon to be ripped out by the interior designer doing over the apartment for the new owner, still hung forlornly at the windows.
Opening the door to her old room, she looked around for the last time. She had lived in this apartment most of her life. She had grown up in this room, as it changed first from childish pink gingham to teenage black and silver, then to simple white with an antique American patchwork quilt.
The only things she could call her own were the inexpensive paintings she had bought herself, the big doll house, her old toys, her books, her clothes, and a few bits of jewelry.
She had never been a “jewelry person,” preferring fashionable costume glitter to real diamonds and pearls. But she had one wonderful necklace. Her father had given it to her when she was eight, on the day he married Buffy. She remembered staring, amazed at the pretty strand of diamonds tied in a love knot.
“Look how it sparkles, Daddy,” she had said, thrilled.
“Not half as much as your eyes, little darlin’,” he had retorted. “Now, you take care of that. It’s by way of bein’ a family heirloom.” And then he had swept her into his arms and carried her off to help cut the wedding cake.
And of course, she had Wil’s engagement ring. They had bought the fine, square-cut three-carat diamond from Cartier. She eyed it anxiously, knowing it had cost more than Wil could afford. He was still only a law student. His father was an attorney and she knew the family was comfortably off, but by her own father’s standards they were not rich.
“Your family’s money is the stuff dreams are made of,” Wil had said to her admiringly. “I’ll never be as rich as your father, Shannon.”
“No matter,” she had replied airily. “I’ll have enough for both of us.”
She quickly closed the outer door with a final click, shutting out a lifetime of memories. As the paneled elevator wooshed softly downward, she had to bite her lip to stop from crying.
She had known the doorman since she was a child, and he was waiting to say good-bye. “I’ll never forget him, Miss Shannon,” he said, folding her hands in his. His weathered red face crumpled suddenly and tears stood in his faded blue eyes. “He was a fine man. As good as they come, and nobody will ever say any different in my company. Best of luck to you, miss.”
Shannon shook his hand and hurried away. She jumped into the little second-hand pickup truck she had bought when she had traded in her beloved black Mercedes 500SL, and headed out of town through the pouring rain.
The Long Island house had not yet been stripped of its furnishings, though the paintings and the finest ornaments had already been sent to Sotheby’s, to be sold separately.
As she drove up, Shannon noticed the auction tent being erected on the big lawn and her heart gave a lurch, remembering the marquee for her
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