In appearance, Drake had changed greatly since the time he had left Boston for parts unknown. He was bigger now, more muscular, and his face was weathered a healthy shade of bronze from long hours spent traveling beneath a scorching sun that had bleached his once brown hair a golden blond.
But one thing about Drake had not changed. The determined glint still shimmered in those piercing green eyes. Elbert recognized righteous determination when he saw it, and he was looking at an abundance of it now. No, thinking again he realized some things about Drake Frazier hadn’t changed a bit; they had only strengthened.
Withdrawing a small key from his vest pocket, the lawyer leaned to the right and unlocked the bottom drawer. A folder was withdrawn, then set on the desk that, except for a small brass mantel clock ticking away the time and an ornately carved pen holder, was meticulously bare. A steel pen protruded from the latter, and Drake thought it looked every bit as long and thin as its owner.
Unlike himself, the only change time had brought to the proper Boston attorney was a hairline that receded back almost to the crown of his smooth white scalp. That, and a noticeable lessening of his nervous lisp. But that was all. Even decked out in an expensively tailored suit, Elbert remained the anxious, gaunt little boy Drake had befriended as a child. The same boy that Drake had taught to climb trees, who had fished by his side as a youngster.
The drawer slid shut, the lock clicking into place before the key was again tucked safely into the lawyer’s breast pocket. The papers in his bony hands crinkled loudly in the ensuing silence as Elbert leafed through the crisp sheets with a grip that shook incessantly. He pulled over a dozen pages from the file, then pushed the folder aside. “It’s all here, as per your request.” He slid the papers across the desk's polished surface and nervously cleared his throat. “I beg you to think hard before you act on this, Drake. It could be most damaging.”
Drake eyed the incriminating pages, but made no move to take them. His gaze shifted to the lawyer. Physically, the man had the appearance of a rat minus the whiskers. But his reputation for being the best damn attorney Boston had to offer stood, regardless. Despite his looks, Drake trusted the man implicitly. “Don’t worry, Elbert, there isn’t much else I have thought about for the past three years.”
The watery, steel-blue eyes behind the spectacles narrowed. “I can take that to mean you’ve decided to go through with this, then? Are you sure?”
“Do I have any other choice? Charles is running the company to the ground. In a year, maybe less, Frazier & Sons will be bankrupt. I can’t just sit back and watch my brother bleed the company dry. Not after all the work I put into it myself.” Shaking his head, he dragged his fingers through the tousled golden hair. “No, I can’t just do nothing. And in my heart, I don’t think my grandfather or my father would want me to. Do you?”
The barest trace of a smile came to Elbert’s thin lips. The mention of the two men brought back long-forgotten memories. “Your grandfather was a complex man, I cannot deny that. He worked hard to get his company off the ground, and harder still to keep it going.” Entwining his bony fingers, he rested his elbows atop the desk. Two trembling index fingers pointed straight up, forming a shaky perch on which he rested his chin. “Unfortunately, I am inclined to agree with you. Thomas Frazier would definitely not approve of the goings on at Frazier & Sons. Had he been more aware of what was happening around him, I doubt he would have signed the company over to your brother.” He scowled, his lips puckering. “However, as I said before you left—and as I still believe now—there are better ways to handle the situation. Your measures are a little too extreme for my tastes.”
Drake chuckled derisively. “Ah, yes, I remember now. You wanted to take the case to court. Contest the will. That sort of thing.”
“I still believe in that. It is the wisest decision.”
“It’s also the longer one. Contesting the will would take time—time that I don’t have. I can’t be running in and out of court at the beck and call of ever
y judge from here to Cambridge. That could take months, even years. You said so yourself.”
“I know what I said,” Elbert sputtered as he leaned back in his chair. The wood groaned with the suddenness of the movement. “And I recall informing you at the time that any matter of this importance would make for a lengthy process in court. But—”
“But, how much till will this take in comparison?” Drake cut him short. Leaning over the desk, he scooped up the papers and held them out to the lawyer. “If you’ve done your job right, there should be enough incriminating evidence in here to ruin Charles for good. Ruin him!” His fist slammed onto the mahogany desk top and the papers wrinkled in his fist. “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked for this? Do you know how long I have waited for this moment? You claim to be my friend, but your defense of him condones what my brother did! My grandfather wouldn’t have wanted things to end all tied up in legal bureaucracy. I know it. And I may not have known my father as well as I would have liked, but I do know that if he was anything like his father, Maurice Frazier would have expected more from his son than what Charles has given him.”
Reluctantly, Elbert nodded. His trembling fingers nervously played with the buttons of his navy blue waistcoat. “I remember very little of your father, Drake, but I have heard my father speak of him. And from what I can recall, your father was cut from the same cloth as your grandfather. He would have expected nothing short of perfection, and settled for nothing less.”
“And you think Charles has lived up to those expectations?” he demanded angrily. Standing now, Drake leaned ominously against the desk. His hands, balled into tight fists, rested atop the polished surface, bracing his weight. His face was hard, his eyes glistening in the waning light with rigid determination. “Charles stole what was rightfully mine, Elbert. While I was busy running the family business, my brother was busy stealing it—as well as my fiancée—out from under my nose. Until now, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Now I can, and I assure you, I won’t let him get away with it. It’s long past time Charles was called to answer for what he’s done.”
Elbert licked his lips, his eyes straying to the closed door leading to the outer office. His voice lowered until it was just shy of a whisper. “I can understand your anger, Drake, and....” another glance at the door to be sure it was still closed, “I agree with you. Your hatred for your brother is well founded. I cannot honestly say I would feel differently were I in your shoes. But you must understand that it is my job to direct my clients through the proper legal channels. While I cannot condone blackmail professionally,” his gaze met Drake’s with an unconcealed meaning, “what I condone personally is my own affair.”
Drake eyed the lawyer cautiously. “Then you’ll help me?”
The lawyer’s gaze shifted to the papers still clutched in Drake’s angry grasp. Slowly, the veneer of the “proper Bostonian attorney” was chipping away. “My dear friend. I already have. You hired me to anonymously collect as many debtor’s notes against Charles Frazier as the money you forwarded me would allow, then secretly invest them in the company. If you would sit down and take a moment to look at those papers, you would see how well your misadventures in the gold mines of California paid off. Your timing was so extraordinary it was almost eerie. Every time Charles gambled away more of his inheritance, I would receive enough money from you to purchase his notes. Secretly purchasing the shares was difficult, I won’t lie to you there, but not impossible. You did a fine job of furnishing me with more than enough funds to complete the task.”
“I did? You mean I really had enough to buy him out?” Drake dropped the pages on the desk and sat back in the chair as though he’d had the wind knocked out of him. The magnitude of what his friend was saying washed over him. Elation was only one of the many emotions sparkling in the sea-green eyes.
Elbert grinned as he peered over the top of his spectacles. “And then some. You are now in possession of the controlling interest in Frazier & Sons. And, since you could not be reached in California, I took the liberty of bringing in an accountant to invest the excess funds—again, anonymously—in other business pursuits. The accountant’s name, his credentials, and the calculations of each transaction, are detailed in those papers.” He nodded his nearly nonexistent chin at the crumpled papers on his desk. “What you choose to do with all of this is no longer a concern of mine. My job is done.” He sent Drake a poignant glance. “Yours, I am afraid, is just beginning.”
Drake looked up sharply. His eyes narrowed and a scowl marred his brow. “What do you mean? Did Charles guess I’m the anonymous buyer? Did he?”
“Good heavens, no.” Elbert chuckled, waving away Drake’s concern as though it were nothing more than a pesky fly. “Your request was for total anonymity, and anonymity is what I provided. I must say, though, the identity of the buyer—or buyers, since no one knows how many there are—who have been purchasing up so many shares of Frazier & Sons has caused quite a bit of conjecture in these parts. As for your brother,” he shrugged, again eying the closed door. He leaned over the desk toward Drake, his watery blue eyes sparkling with conspiracy. “For some reason, Charles has been operating under the assumption that you died in California over four months ago. Personally, I would love to be a fly on the wall when he first sets eyes on you. No doubt he will be quite surprised to find you alive and well.”
“No doubt,” Drake agreed dryly, his scowl deepening. Pulling a long, thin cheroot from his pocket, he ran it through his fingers, his expression thoughtful. The vision of Tyrone Tubbs, his face lit by the glow of dancing orange flames, touched his memory. If he’d harbored any doubts as to the man’s employer before, those doubts were now gone. Accepting a light from the lawyer, as well as a cut crystal ashtray, Drake settled back in the chair. He inhaled deeply, releasing the smoke from his lungs in a slow, steady stream. “Who told Charles I was dead?”
The lawyer scowled, shaking his head. “I have no idea. At first the news was just idle gossip trickling around town, and we all know how distorted that can be. As I recall, I had just heard from you the week before, so I paid no attention to it. Of course, no one knew that.” He reclined back in his chair, squinting thoughtfully as he entwined trembling fingers over his wiry chest. “Imagine my surprise when Charles, out of the blue, publicly confirmed the rumors. I don’t need to tell you how nervous I was until you finally wired me from St. Louis. Had I not been almost ninety-eight percent sure you were alive, I might have believed him. The boy was convincing. He had poor Angelique falling into a swoon at his feet when he made the announcement. I hear she took to her bed for weeks afterward.”
Drake crushed his barely smoked cigar out in the crystal ashtray, then set it aside and rose from the chair. Like a caged animal, he paced the room. His back was rigid, his jaw a hard, uncompromising line. “I understand your telling me about Charles, but why do I get the feeling you’re trying to feel me out about something else here? If you have something to say, man, just say it and get it over with.”
“I wish things were that easy,” Elbert sighed. Again he pushed the spectacles up on a nose that was now moist with nervous perspiration. Clasping his trembling hands together on the desk top, he cleared his throat. His normally soft voice sounded even softer. “This is different. Normally I would never ask a client such a—ahem—personal question. But, you’ve been my friend for as many years as I can remember, so I feel justified in asking you—”
“Get to the point.”
Elbert pushed his glasses back up his nose as he watched Drake lean on an elbow against the engraved marble mantel. The penetrating gaze was hooded, trained on the flames crackling inside the hearth. “I need to know if you still feelings for her. Are you still in love with Angelique?”