“Exactly,” Santiago says.
“I’m sure he could arrange for his wife to become pregnant but considering the magic of modern-day science, well, however you look at it, unless by some miracle the man produces a child within the next year, Isabelle Bishop stands to inherit the Bishop fortune,” Judge sums up.
This I know. Carlton trying to kill Isabelle though when she would have been sixteen years old? It catches me off guard.
But then again, why would it?
I came to get information on Carlton’s involvement in my father’s death but this? It may give me the ammunition I seek but it’s unsettling to say the least.
“What remains of the fortune,” Judge adds. “The land if nothing else. Unless, of course, she’s dead.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Gibson tried to clear his name telling just that story but sadly there was no evidence to support it. Those reports weren’t easy to come by.”
“How did you come by them?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Money always leaves a trail. A map if you know how to read it. And I’m very good at reading maps.”
“Bishop knew no one would believe Gibson if he told his story.”
“Exactly. He is a criminal. Has served time before. He broke into the York house to rob them but happened upon the occupants. He did what he had to do. Or so said the prosecutor who presented the case, and the jury ate it up. Men like Gibson look like they belong in prison. Bishop knew what he was doing when he hired him. When the money Gibson claimed to have been paid vanished without a trace, well, it was his word against Carlton Bishop. Danny Gibson will rot in prison. And quite frankly, he deserves to be there. But so does Bishop.”
Zeke puts the stack of papers down on the coffee table, the photo of Isabelle on top. I look at it. At Isabelle passed out on the broken shards of the glass coffee table, face and body bruised, swelling, broken.
Carlton did this. Just like he killed Kimberly, he did this to her.
“Why take her in then?” I ask Santiago. “And why not finish the job in the years she’s been living at the Bishop house?”
“Because somehow, and I don’t know how, knowledge of who her father is reached IVI. And Society blood, well, I don’t need to tell you about how it is revered. Carlton Bishop had no choice but to take her in. Why not kill her in the years she’s been under his roof? I don’t know. I think he would have if he could have but something stood in his way. As for preventing her from inheriting it seems he’s found a workaround. He’s arranging a marriage contract as we speak.”
“I initiated The Rite. He can’t decide for her.”
“I think he’s going to Hildebrand with a case to get her back,” Judge says. “I wonder if he’ll use the fact that no heirs will be born to him to argue his case.”
“It won’t matter,” I say, realizing how similar my plan is.
Zeke turns to me. “He’s arranged for accidents before. If she were to give birth to the next heir, it would be easy to simply take over guardianship if the parents were gone and ensure his own future.”
“What will you do?” Judge asks me.
“The Bishops have always hated the St. James’s and that goes both ways. Both families have been brutal, but the Bishops more so.”
“They may say the same about you,” Santiago adds.
“He can say whatever the hell he wants. My daughter is motherless because Carlton Bishop wanted to eliminate my family to take back land he and all the Bishops before him have always considered theirs. He took her life. He stole from my daughter. From me. I will take everything from him to make him pay. This information doesn’t change my plans,” I say, standing, wanting to be out of this suddenly stifling room. “I still have everything I need to do what I need to do.”
“You won’t go to The Tribunal?” Judge asks.
“No. I’ll handle this myself.”
“As you should,” Santiago says.
I study him. We have this in common at least. “Thank you, Santiago. I’m indebted to you.”
He stands, extends his hand. “I wish you success. Should you need anything else, my door is open to you.”
I nod, turn to Judge. “Judge. Thank you.”
He shakes my hand.
The two of them leave the room and I’m alone with my brother, with my thoughts, with those photos, that damning evidence. For three years she has lived in the house of the man who had her brother killed. The man who had arranged to have her killed. And she doesn’t have a clue.
“Your plan is the same as his. You’ll use her like he would,” Zeke says.
“There’s a difference. I won’t kill her.”
“Well, isn’t she a lucky girl then.”
We study each other. “Do you hate the Bishops?”
“You know I do.”
“Then what’s your problem?” I ask, stepping toward him.
He doesn’t back away. “My problem is that there are better ways to do this. Like what I’ve been doing.”
“Quietly breaking down his fortune.”
“It hits him where it hurts.”
“But he doesn’t see who is doing the hitting.”
“He suffers all the same.”
“Not enough,” I say, shaking my head. I stuff the sheets into the folder and straighten to face Zeke again. “I want him to see it’s me. I want him to know.”
“No matter the cost.”
“She’s a Bishop.”
“She’s a girl.”
“Our father would have done no less.” I say, knowing I’ll get a reaction out of him. His relationship with our father was very different than mine.
“And you idolize that brutal man?” he asks, right on cue. I don’t actually know why I bring it up. I didn’t agree with much of what my father did when it came to my brother, but I was first-born. I was his heir. And in many ways, I was like him. Zeke and Zoë, not so much. They were different. I wonder if it wasn’t Zoë’s influence that made Zeke see our father differently than I did. He was a ruthless man and as ruthless as Zeke is, he is fair.
“I don’t idolize—”
“Oh, Jericho!” He shakes his head like he’s so fucking disappointed in me. It pisses me off.
“If you don’t have the stomach for it, look away. Oh and no need to leave flowers on Kimberly’s grave. I’m home. I got it covered.”
“Fuck you, you asshole.” He shoves my chest, sending me back a step. “You think you are the only one who mourned her loss?”
I chuckle. “That right there is the difference between me and you. You mourned her. I still mourn her.”
“Because that’s what she would want? She would never want the father of her child stuck in the past letting his life be eaten away by revenge, while his daughter grows up not knowing him. Not really anyway, because he’s too busy with his vengeance to see what’s right in front of his eyes.”
I drop the folder on the seat of the chair beside me and shove him back hard. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare! She died in my arms!”
“I know. But you’re not the only one who lost her. She’s gone. She’s been gone. Angelique lives. And that little girl’s afraid of her own shadow. Is that what you want? What you think Kim would have wanted?”