Page 158 of Family Affair
Dan shook his head as if trying to clear it. “What madness is this? Who’s in jail now?”
“Frank,” Coco said. “Frank’s in jail.”
“Frank?” Dan said the name but the meaning of it obviously hadn’t registered yet.
“That’s why you went to Ward Williamson,” Coco addressed Alex. “This was Cade’s - Frank’s - error of judgement. He assumed the killer wanted to know the location of the Pollock drawing, but he was wrong. You knew his real identity, didn’t you? You wanted his fingerprints to prevent him from ever speaking the truth. And you got them.”
Alex’s face twisted. “And I did. So no matter what drivel you spew, you can’t back it up. And neither can he. Proof no longer exists.”
Coco’s heart hurt for Cade. It was all so terribly unfair. “Why, Alex? Didn’t Ward tell you? Your brother once again bartered his identity for your peace. He wouldn’t bow to Ward’s demands he start forging again, but he agreed to live as Cade in exchange for Ward withdrawing the Pollock from the gallery. They came to an understanding. Cade was going home. It would have been over!”
“It was never going to be over!” Alex’s superficial calm finally cracked in multiple places at once, like river ice in the spring, irreversible. Once cracked, the ice chunks moved over, started drifting, and the cold, dark waters of his deep soul gaped for all to see. “I’ve known about the stupid charade since day one. I’ve watched him! When he went all-out Cade and joined the Army, I hoped against hope he’d get blasted somewhere in Kandahar and it would all be over. But like a cat with nine lives, he always came back. And after he left the military, it was only a matter of time.”
“Alex.” Rick looked completely, positively done in. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it, Father. He’s always been a liability. He and his overblown sense of what’s right. He was going to self destruct and take us all along for the ride.”
“And you went to Ward?”
“The prints needed to be taken care of, just in case he was suicidal enough to try and claim Frank’s name despite Stevie Stark accusations. They weren't at the police archives, so I figured Ward had them. Everything goes back to Ward.”
“I take it he refused to give them to you,” Coco said softly.
Alex laughed, and the hollow, evil sound scraped against her oversensitive nerves. “You’d think Ward should be the first to want to burn them. Nutty old preacher, I hope he rots in hell.”
“You sure helped him get there sooner rather than later,” Ross murmured, his eyes hard as diamonds.
Alex whirled on him. “Don’t judge me for having all the guts in this family. You know what Ward told me? He intended to make the prints part of Cade’s inheritance when he passed away. Like I was going to let this time bomb sit there! Ward passed away, alright, but Cade wouldn't be getting any prints. I destroyed them. Problem solved.”
Coco was simply aghast. “What, exactly, did you solve, Alex? Ward Williamson is dead. Your mother committed suicide. Your brother is in jail, on trial for murder. And you are not one step closer to achieving financial success you so crave for your company!”
“I’m done talking to you.” He roughly grabbed her by the arm and jerked her to her feet. “Give me the Pollock drawing and go see Ward in hell.”
“Let me go!”
“Alex? What are you doing?” Rick’s face was pale and his lips turned blue. He was rubbing his chest and frowning.
Alex didn’t hear him, deaf to everything except the all-consuming rage Coco read in his twisted face.
“Give me your purse!”
Alex grabbed both of her arms above the elbows. His grip hurt as he shook her, and she fought against his hold.
No one was coming to her rescue, and Coco didn’t spare a glance to see if the Sheffields even cared that Alex was physically assaulting her. She had known it coming in: She was on her own.
Her struggles angered Alex more. His mottled face was offset by glazed eyes that were alight with a maniacal glow. Terror twisted her insides. For all their proximity to hundreds of partygoers, he could kill her behind the cover of the beaded curtain.He would probably get caught, but it wouldn't much matter to her if she was already dead.
Alex caught her feet with his and tossed her on the floor like she was nothing more than a rag doll. Dropping on top, he pressed down on her with his body weight.
“Get off… me… you crazy… son of a bitch!” Coco’s legs bicycled in frantic attempts to kick him where it hurt. “What are you going to do? Shut me up? Kill me like you killed Ward Williamson?”
“Keep pushing me and find out.” With horror, Coco felt his hand close around her throat. “Ward made that mistake. He underestimated me. All of them underestimated me.”
She gasped out words from her squeezed throat. “You’re a coward. Your brother has taken the blame, and you… you let him fall, just like the real Cade… had done a long… time ago.”
Alex laughed – a frightening sound, completely lacking mirth. “Frank belongs in the past. He should have fucking died and stayed fucking dead! Now, say good night, bitch.”
Her lungs started burning and her arms and legs felt like lead. Her jerky movements turned into feeble flops as her vision greyed out. And she really had it with being called a bitch.
