Once Upon a Friendship

He turned in to the federal building parking lot as her words registered.

“And that trust money was from your mother’s family. Designated by your mother’s parents to go to you...”

He chanced another glance at her. It was there again. That sense that something was different.

As if she was a woman, not just his best friend.

The idea panicked him far more than the possibility of being wanted by the FBI. Gabi and Marie...they were the only family he had. He was not going to screw that up.

Most particularly not with baser urges that waned with time. He liked women. He was good with that.

But not Marie and Gabi. He couldn’t risk breaking their hearts. Couldn’t risk losing either one of them.

And Lord knew he’d never yet known a woman—in a man-woman sense—whom he didn’t eventually tire of. He’d yet to meet the woman who could corral his interests...

They’d arrived at their destination.

It was time to see his father. Proud. Strong. Domineering. And locked up.

Liam had no idea how he was going to handle that. But was glad Gabi was with him.

* * *

GEORGE COSTAS, CONNELLY’S head corporate attorney, had been present when Walter Connelly had been served his warrant. He’d accompanied his longtime employer and closest friend to FBI headquarters. He’d advised Walter to be completely honest and forthcoming. And then he’d left, promising to get to the bottom of everything.

Gabrielle heard the report from the agent who’d been sent to take them back to Liam’s father—Agent Bill Cross. Cross, a man who looked to be about forty-five, was dressed like his counterparts in a suit with a sedate skinny blue tie. His expression grave beneath short graying hair, he led them to a room with a table and four chairs, where Walter Connelly sat waiting.

The first thing Gabrielle noticed through the glass on her way in was that Walter wasn’t handcuffed.

“You want to go in alone?” she asked Liam as his old man looked up and saw them standing outside the door.

“No,” Liam said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to come in with me. You’re my friend, and a great lawyer. With George’s understandable absence, I’d like your take on anything my father has to say. I want to know exactly what evidence the FBI has, what he’s been asked and if what he’s told them is in any way detrimental. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

She nodded. She wasn’t going to take money from him, but they could deal with that later. Right now, the man watching them from inside that room, a man who looked neither aggressive nor beaten, was their priority. Nervous

, but determined not to let Liam guess that, she followed him into the room, closing the door behind her. She might not like Walter Connelly’s parenting skills, but he was an impressive businessman with an intimidating demeanor.

He’d never approved of Liam’s friendship with her and Marie—he hadn’t even bothered to say hello on the day of their college graduation. Liam had introduced them. Walter had appeared to not have heard.

“Dad, you remember Gabrielle?”

The old man looked in her direction and then back at his son, giving not a single clue to what he might be thinking. “I do.”

Pulling out a chair, Liam sat across from his father, indicating that Gabrielle should join them.

She sat next to Liam.

“I imagine they can hear everything we say,” Liam started. Not the first thing she’d have said when confronting an estranged parent in jail, but appearances had always been far more important to the Connellys than she’d ever been able to understand.

“I have nothing to hide,” Walter said. His face was no more lined than she remembered from her last glimpse of him three months before—sometime around Thanksgiving—when she and Marie had accompanied Liam to a huge fund-raiser at the art museum. Jenna had been out of town and he hadn’t wanted to be accompanied by their dads. The expression on Walter’s face when he’d seen them walk in had been about what it was now.

“What’s going on, Dad?”

Walter clasped his hands on the table and looked his son directly in the eye. “I have no idea.”

Liam’s jutting chin was the only sign of his frustration. “Look, Dad, I’m sorry I transferred the trust money without informing you. I’m sorry I bought a building without giving you a heads-up. Now let it go. They told me you’re under arrest. They’re going to hold you. They don’t do that for nothing. Tell me what’s going on.”

Leaning forward, Walter put his nose close to Liam’s but didn’t lower his voice. “I’m telling you, I have no idea what’s going on.”