Genetic Imperfections by Steve Hadden

Author:Steve Hadden [Hadden, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781938135064
Publisher: Telemachus Press, LLC
Published: 2012-03-20T04:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 33

Brayton slammed the Wednesday morning LA Times on the table and startled the servant standing a few feet away on the top deck of the luxury yacht. Wellington and Clarke were on the run, and Prescott’s murder had been pinned on the pair. To top it all, Brayton read about it on the front page of the morning news, just like everyone else in Southern California.

He hated surprises, especially considering what he had paid to be kept informed. With Prescott dead, Priscilla had control of the Trust, and he knew the calls from concerned board members would start soon. The big-wigs from Jones-Frederick wouldn’t be far behind. As the underwriter for the IPO, their investors would be clamoring for information regarding the strange series of occurrences that put control of the Rexsen Trust in the hands of a woman with no business experience.

The wind gusted and knocked over the crystal flute filled with orange juice. Brayton noted the clouds building to the west. The twin diesels surged between the growing swells. No question this would be a bad day.

“Good morning Royce,” Priscilla said, announcing her entrance onto the skydeck. The attendant stepped to the chair facing Brayton and gently guided Priscilla into her seat.

For the first time he could remember, Brayton’s stomach churned as a little doubt about his ability to control her entered his mind. Dressed in a smart dark blue pantsuit, she appeared calm and confident. For the first time since he’d known her, she appeared to be going for the strong, not the sexy, look. He didn’t like it. She looked too composed for just having learned of the death of her only sibling less than a week after the death of her father.

“Good morning, Priscilla,” Brayton replied.

Priscilla eyes dropped to the paper on the table. “I see Prescott’s murder made the front page.”

The lack of remorse in her voice raised Brayton’s suspicions.

“Yes, it did, and your husband and his girlfriend are wanted for the killing.”

Brayton pushed the paper across the table. Priscilla ignored it.

“I sure hope they get him, and don’t give him a chance to explain his way out of it,” she said.

Brayton wondered where the conversation was headed. “I’m not sure what you mean?”

Priscilla leaned on her forearms and Brayton could see the coldness in her brown eyes.

“If he lives and divorces me, he’ll have half the Trust, and you’ll have to deal with him too.”

Brayton felt as if he’d stepped into a trap. The gusts had become stronger and swirled around the table. The sun disappeared behind the approaching squall line. He squirmed in his chair under the weight of Priscilla’s silent stare. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was the hunter or the hunted.

“He won’t make it.” Brayton tried to sound confident.

“What makes you so sure?” Priscilla pressed.

He tossed his linen napkin on the table and knocked his chair away from him.

“Trust me. I gotta catch the jet to New York.” Certain he could bull his way out of the discomfort of Priscilla’s pressure, he turned his back to her.

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