It Had to Be Fate (An It Had to Be Novel Book 3) (22 page)

His brother must’ve gotten a public defender. Or, probably used Zane’s money to hire himself a new lawyer, but Nick looked like hell. He’d most likely walked straight out of rehab and into a bar last night.

Nick’s eyes locked with Zane’s. The hate in his brother’s eyes made Zane’s gut clench. Best not to engage, so Zane looked away.

One of the guards called out, “All rise.”

After everyone was on their feet, Nick being the last to stand up fully, the judge sailed through a door behind his big desk. “Take your seats, please.”

Zane’s heart pounded with nerves, while Nick, slumped in his chair, looked as though he didn’t give a damn.

The judge, dressed in a suit, not his robes, opened up the file on his desk and read for a moment before he said, “First off, we need to figure out who the real Zane Steele is because you both claim to be him.”

He pointed to Nick. “What is your legal name, please?”

Nick said, “Zane Xavier Steele.”

The judge pointed to Zane. “And your full name, sir?”

“Zane Xavier Steele.”

The judge’s eyes found Nick’s and then Zane’s. “Well, one of you went to Juilliard, I see.” He pointed to Zane. “Tell me what a paradiddle is?”

Zane smiled. “A drum pattern.”

“That’s right.” He pointed to Nick. “Can you tell me what adagio means?”

Nick sent Zane a sideways glance and said, “It’s a Harry Potter spell.”

The judge pursed his lips at Nick’s flip answer. “I believe you’re referring to
accio
, which is a summoning spell, Nick. Okay, so now that I’m satisfied we’ve established who is who, next I’d like to understand a few key things.”

Jack said, “If I may, your honor, I’ve—”

“No, counselor, you may not. I only want to hear from these two today. But first I want to make it clear this is not high school where the one twin who is better at math slips into the classroom and aces the test for the other twin. Our purpose today is to assign the proper punishment to you each individually for your actions.

“So, Nick, you’ve just racked up a perjury charge, but I think we’ll come back to you.” He turned to Zane. “Why, once you found out your brother was stealing and embezzling from you, did you decide to deceive the court and let us think we had you in custody?”

Man, it sounded bad when he put it like that.

Zane swallowed hard. He was just going to tell the truth. “I’d promised our mother I would take care of Nick after she died. He’d been drinking excessively and posing as me in bars, then driving home drunk. I had given him a job and paid him well, but nothing seemed to stop his destructive patterns. Rather than send Nick to jail, I thought repaying the damaged parties, and sending Nick to rehab, would be best for him and for anyone he might have hurt by his actions.”

Nick mumbled, “What a load of garbage. I didn’t steal anything. He gave me his ID.”

The judge glanced at Nick’s lawyer, who began whispering something in Nick’s ear. The judge’s eyes cut back to Zane. “Who was going to do the community service time according to the plea bargain against you, Zane? You or Nick?”

“I was. I have a foundation whose goal is to bring back music to schools. I volunteer there as much as I can throughout the year.”

“And do you now plan to press charges against your brother for identity theft and embezzlement?”

Zane hated to do it, but had no choice. “I do. Rehab didn’t work, so I’m hoping jail time will.”

Nick jumped out of his chair and went for Zane’s throat.

Zane gasped for air as he and Jack pried Nick’s hands from their death grip on Zane’s neck. The guards joined in, grabbed Nick, and threw him to the floor, face-first. With their knees in Nick’s back, they handcuffed him and then dragged him to his feet. Nick spat out, “I’ll kill you when I get out, Zane. I swear to God!”

Zane, still trying to catch his breath, said, “You wanted me to go over the cliff that day with Dad, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t help.”

“Oh, hell yeah.” Nick laughed as they pulled him toward the door.

After Nick was gone, the judge scribbled something in the file. “Well, Mr. Steele, here’s what I’m going to do. I am going to hold you to the original plea bargain for the community service hours then we’ll call it a day. You are no longer under arrest, but please be sure to complete the hours within the one-year requirement or I will be seeing you here again.”

“Thank you. But what about the murder allegation?”

The judge stood and held out a hand. “They’ll review the case. Good luck, Mr. Steele.”

Zane shook the man’s hand, thankful that was over. All he wanted to do was to go home.

But he couldn’t because of that restraining order, so he’d have to settle for Malibu.

Jack walked out of the judge’s chambers beside him. “Now we need to get you in front of the cameras ASAP. Wave, and let’s get that image of you in handcuffs out of their heads. Be sure to smile. I’ll do all the talking.”

Zane did as he was told, stood on the courthouse steps, and forced a smile while Jack sold his spiel.

Then something Casey had said to him earlier made him nudge Jack out of the way when he’d wrapped things up. She said she’d be watching. So he sent her a message.

C
asey stepped inside her brother’s office to find Ryan sitting behind his desk, filling out paperwork. Where was Tomas? “You didn’t go that far, did you?” she asked.

“Yep.” Ryan chuckled. “I warned him to calm down or he was going into the drunk tank.”

“Did he call his lawyer?”

“Yeah. But he wasn’t in. Too bad small towns like ours shut down for the night at five o’clock, huh?”

“And it’s almost five now.” Casey turned the corner out of Ryan’s office and went to the very back of the station to the single holding cell. Tomas’s face turned three shades of red when he saw her.

He stood and white-knuckled the bars. “You’ve gone too far this time, Casey!”

She’d liked to have taken a photo for Toby, but
that
would have probably been going too far. “I gave you fair warning, Tomas. Why you think rules don’t apply to you has always fascinated me.”

“At least I live my life, unlike you. So busy following all the rules in this miserable little town that life passes you by. And you want our boys to live sheltered little lives like yours too.”

“All I want is for the kids to grow up loved and cared for. That is clearly the last thing on
your
mind. What would possess you to take a kid with a cast on his arm out on the lake? Not to mention that I’d told you I wasn’t allowing you to see them on my time anymore?”

His lips slowly formed into a sneer. “Because I knew it’d piss you off.”

Strangely, she was dead calm. “Interesting that you’d go to so much trouble to piss me off when you’re in love with some exotic French beauty. But now it’s perfectly clear why you filed that restraining order against Zane. You’re jealous of him.”

“Please.” Tomas scowled. “He’s got nothing on me. I’m a Michelin-starred chef! You know how few of those there are.”

“As you’ve never failed to remind me. But Zane has everything you’ve ever wanted and couldn’t have. Money, fame—and my love and respect. Which you had, but lost.”

“And I’m better off for it. I have money now. More than you could ever dream of.”

“It’s Marie’s money, not yours.”

“It’ll be mine once we’re married. Marie can’t have children and likes ours very much—that’s why she gathered my killer legal team to get them. When we win, I’ll have the one thing you treasure most,
chérie
.”

“Ah, so that’s why she lets you live off her like a leech.” Now his actions were finally making sense. Sadly, he wanted to use their kids as pawns to marry Marie. He hadn’t changed a bit. “Stranding our kids in the lake when you took off like that earlier just proves you have no business caring for them a majority of the time. And I could name twenty-five other examples of stories the boys have told after their visits with you.”

“The boys exaggerate! And I lied when I said I wanted you. I just said that to make you more agreeable.” Spittle flew from Tomas’s mouth as he screamed, “You’re the same controlling bitch you always were. It’s no wonder every man you’ve been with has cheated on you!”

She crossed her arms, and as if he hadn’t spoken, she said, “I’m here to tell you that things have changed. Now I’m going to sue
you
for full custody. And I’ll ask
my
very powerful lawyer to petition for assigned weekends year-round for your visitation, because I’m tired of not seeing the boys all summer. And that would mean you’d have to give up your big life in France and move back to the US to see the boys, wouldn’t it? Would Marie have you then? Have a great night in jail, you selfish prick.”

She turned and walked away, ignoring the threats spewing from his foul mouth. By giving his words weight, it’d just diminish the new power she’d taken back from Tomas. She wouldn’t quit now until the boys were with her, where they belonged, a majority of the time. She’d tell her lawyer what Tomas’s real motivations were. Hopefully it’d help her case.

Ryan, leaning against the wall just around the corner so he could eavesdrop, smiled. “You can be scary when you put your mind to it, Casey.” He opened his arms for a hug.

Ryan wasn’t much of a hugger, so she happily took the rare opportunity offered.

He whispered, “Don’t believe him. Good men don’t cheat.” Then he quickly released her.

Zane had told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t a cheater. She just hoped he wasn’t spending the night in jail too. “Figures I finally find the right guy, and I can’t have him.”

Ryan nodded.

Seemed he’d used up his quota of words for the day. “See you later.”

He lifted a hand as she walked out the door.

When she got home, the boys weren’t back from dinner yet, so she made a salad in the hotel’s kitchen and parked herself at the center island in front of the television. Dax cleaned dishes while she flipped through the channels. She finally spotted Zane. He stood on the courthouse steps smiling, so handsome in his suit. She’d never seen him in anything but casual clothes. But his smile didn’t reflect in his eyes. She hated that he seemed as brokenhearted as she was, because damn, it hurt.

She listened as the suit guy next to Zane spelled out the events of the day.

Luckily Zane wasn’t going to jail, but his brother was. For a very long time. At the end, Zane leaned into the mic and she swore he was looking right at her.

He said, “Even though some of the damage my brother has done seems irreparable, I won’t stop fighting until I get back what my brother’s false allegations stole from me. I just hope I’m not too late when I finally win.”

The steely determination in Zane’s eyes bore a hole straight through her heart. The damage did seem irreparable, and she believed he’d fight to fix it, but, unfortunately, some things were beyond their control.

“I think he’s telling you to wait for him.” Dax had snuck up from behind, startling her.

“I think so too, but my lawyer says no matter what happens with that restraining order, I need to be sure Tomas’s lawyers can’t prove any contact between me and Zane until my custody case is over. That could take a very long time. And truthfully, I’m still a little worried about something Mandy said. She told me Zane didn’t have time for anyone else in his life. The last thing I’d want would be to choose another man who didn’t have time for me and the boys.”

Like my father, and Tomas.

Dax shook his head. “I think Zane just hadn’t met the right woman until you, and he’d make the time.”

She’d like to think so too. “I might never know, if Tomas has his way.”

“I’d like to cut off Tomas’s man parts and serve them to stray dogs.”

Casey chuckled. “Get in line.”

Finally home, Zane pulled the tie from his neck and went straight to his study to use the computer. His laptop was still in Anderson Butte.

He fired it up, waited for his browser to load, and then cringed. He was the topic of a scrolling banner headline. The media had ignored all that had been set right and instead focused on the restraining order and the murder allegation.

He couldn’t read any more lies, so he pulled up his e-mail and composed a note to Kip. They still needed to find an excavation company to dig the whiskey out for the boys, but since Zane couldn’t be involved, he’d ask Kip to handle it. Then he quickly shut the computer down.

Now what to do with himself? Maybe he should head downstairs to the gym and hope working out for an hour would improve his gloomy mood.

When his cell rang, he checked the screen, glad it was just Kip and not another reporter. How those guys got his private number was a mystery. But he couldn’t change it. What if Casey tried to call? “Hi, Kip.”

“Hey, Zane. Just got your e-mail. I’ll take care of it. How are you?”

“Crappy. How are you?” He hadn’t meant to snap at Kip. “Sorry. What’s up?”

Kip cleared his throat. “Please don’t kill the messenger, but the president of your foundation called me a few minutes ago. Seems the board feels that since the restraining order against you is for the protection of children, you should formally announce your resignation from the organization.”

Kip might as well have punched him in the gut. “It’s my foundation. How can they ask me to resign?”

“The foundation helps kids. They worry about perception.”

“Dammit.” He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. One more thing his brother had stolen from him. “I guess I can see their point, but . . .” He loved helping those kids. Who else was going to do it if he didn’t?

“I’ll have your lawyers talk to the judge and find you another way to do your community service.”

“Seems I have no choice. Write something up and make the announcement for me, please. I can’t do it.”

“Will do.”

He had to do something to stop all the negative attention. As much as he hated to tour, he’d have to. To get back out there and let people see for themselves that nothing had changed.

“So how are the bookings going? You said you wanted to get me out there again, so what am I looking at?”

“Yeah. About that.” Kip was quiet for far too long before he said, “I think we should focus on some smaller venues for a while.”

That made no sense. That’d be like taking a huge step back in his career path. “Why? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ve had some cancellations today, and I expect we’ll have more tomorrow. No one wants to do all the promotion if you end up having to cancel because of a murder trial.”

“I’m not going to have a murder trial! They’ll look into the events the day of my dad’s accident and it’ll all go away!”

“Well, until then, why don’t you focus on writing? It’s what you love best anyway.”

It was what he loved best; he didn’t really enjoy the performing part, but still. “I’d like you to call those promoters back and remind them of how they hounded us for longer and longer tours, year after year. With hardly a break or without a care for me or my band’s personal lives, just so they could line their pockets with more money off our backs! And then you tell them to f—”

“Zane, stop. I understand you’re upset. Everyone in your band has been given the time off while you were supposed to be away anyway, so let’s just give it a few weeks and see what happens. With time, things will blow over.”

“What if they never do, Kip? Then what?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Look at it as a vacation from your crazy life. Which, if you’ll recall, you’d told me you needed a break from. Try to relax and enjoy it. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Gotta go.” He smacked the “End” button and tossed his phone onto his desk.

He glanced around his study filled with Grammys and platinum albums and had to close his eyes. He couldn’t look at those without feeling the weight of what he’d just lost.

His mother’s words taunted him from beyond.
“Take care of your brother. Family and love are all that matter, Zane. One day the fame will be gone. And all you’ll have is scads of cold, hard cash—along with a cold, empty heart.”

He’d tried his best to take care of his brother. Epic fail there. And his mom was wrong. His heart wasn’t empty. It was broken over losing Casey, which was ten times worse. But his mom was right about the money, he had scads of that. Maybe he could figure out a way to use it to get what he wanted.

He picked up the phone and called his lawyer. Jack was the best. Together they had to be able to figure something out.