The man released her.
"Leave us," Tate said.
Over the pounding of her heart, Addison heard the other man leave the room. "Why now?" she asked. "After all these years?"
"You were getting too close."
"How did you know?”
A smile whispered across his features. "I kept tabs on you and your activities through our mutual friend, Mr. Bernstein. I employed him when I first learned he was delving into your mother's case."
Denial welled up and overflowed. "I don't believe you. Jim wouldn't . . ." The sense of betrayal sliced her. She couldn't finish the sentence. "He had no reason to—"
"The man had four sons." His eyes glinted like ice. ''They all wanted to be lawyers like their esteemed father. Imagine the cost of sending four ambitious young men to law school. I simply offered to finance his children's' education for his cooperation."
"Then you killed him."
"He'd served his purpose." He studied her intently. "If it's any consolation, Bernstein felt quite badly for what he did to you."
Addison stared at him, speechless and sick to her soul.
Tate continued. "Bernstein had been hoping Beckett's death would satisfy your curiosity about your birth parents and end your search. He was an idiot. I knew sooner or later you would cause problems for me."
"Now you're going to murder me, too. Is that it? Is that how you're going to solve this?"
"I never wanted it to come to this, Miss Fox. Murder is an unpleasant business to say the least."
'''Especially when you get caught."
Cold amusement played behind his eyes. "You've got guts. I admire that greatly. This time, unfortunately, your bravery won't be rewarded."
Addison fought off nerves and struggled to keep the conversation moving, keep him talking. "I don't know why I'm here. What do you want from me?"
"I'm not sure what I had expected tonight. I was curious, I suppose."
"Curious about what?"
"You. My daughter."
The words sickened her. Without realizing it, she stepped away from him as if she'd suddenly realized that he was a carrier of a terrible disease. "You're insane."
"I assure you, I'm quite sane. You see, my wife has been told she'll never bear children. She's infertile. Therefore, you're probably the only offspring I'll ever have. I'm really quite sorry that our time together has been so short. It would have been interesting to know you better. Not many people intrigue me. You do, Addison. You're a very intriguing young woman."
He strode to the coffee table nearest her. Reaching into the breast pocket of his shirt, he removed a, brown prescription bottle and tapped three blue pills into her drink. "This should make the corning hours easier for you."
Addison's heart banged against her ribs. He's going to kill me, she thought with an eerie, calm.
He swirled the tumbler and handed it to her. "Drink it."
Terror thrashed inside her, like a bull whip slapping at her nerves. "No."
"I can tell you now that your death won't be a pleasant one." Patiently, he set the tumbler on the coffee table. "In a few minutes, Kyle will return. On my orders, he will bind your hands behind your back, Then we're going to go for a little ride out to sea."
"There are enough people who know about this to put you away for the rest of your life."
"Like your private detective?" He chuckled. "Don't be naive. Surely you realize he's dead."
"He's not dead," she choked. "He's not."
For a moment, he looked almost sympathetic, but his eyes remained as cold and hard as granite. "I've hired Kyle to take the Anastasia to Fort Lauderdale for the winter. Once out at sea, he will weight your body with the auxiliary anchor he keeps onboard for such occasions, I don't need to tell you what will happen next, do I?”
A shudder ran the length of her.
He grimaced. "It's not my intent for you to suffer. I wish you'd reconsider and take a few sips of the cognac. The Valium will ease your panic. Death will be much easier if you're calm."
The thought of such a horrible death turned her insides to jelly. She choked on the bile that crept into her throat, and found herself wanting to reach for the tumbler.
After a moment, he shrugged. "We've got another hour or so. Let me know if you change your mind." His gray eyes sought hers and held them for perhaps a full minute before turning abruptly to depress an intercom button built into the wall. "Kyle, we're ready."
Addison thought she'd been prepared. A half dozen plans of escape and rescue played out in the back of her mind. Randall bursting through the door, backed up by a hundred of D.C.'s finest. An FBI helicopter hovering overhead, a federal agent speaking into a bullhorn for Tate to give himself up. She even envisioned herself making a break for freedom, reaching the upper deck just as a Coast Guard cutter happened by.
Instead, Tate's bodyguard descended the curving staircase.