looked at Spocatti when he leaned inside the open door. “He’s clean.” she said.
Spocatti glanced at Michael and George. “Jesus,” he said. “Would you look at yourselves? You’d think we were going to a morgue and not a party. Lighten the hell up.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Music swelled, there was a sharp burst of applause and Leana continued moving through the crowd, smiling to people she didn’t know, nodding to those who suddenly knew her, wondering where Michael was.
She had no escort. She was surrounded by hundreds of smiling, laughing people, yet never had she felt more alone. Where was he? She specifically asked him to be here by eight, so they could join the party together at eight- thirty. Yet now it was pushing ten and he was nowhere in sight.
Neither was Louis.
Alone, she had just finished greeting, by name, the better part of eighteen hundred guests, including the French ambassador, the British ambassador, Countess Castellani and her blind husband, Count Luftwick, Lady Ionesco from Spain, and the mayor and governor of New York. Alone, she had given interviews to select members of the press-an exhausting task that hadn’t gone well. Everyone wanted to know why she took this position given the public feud that existed between her father and Louis Ryan. And everyone wanted to know if there was any information on Celina.
Leana had handled them, cleverly skirting their questions and instead concentrating on the hotel and its future. But she was tired and not having a good time. She looked around the crowded space. At least the flowers had been delivered.
She panned the room for Michael. She saw men her father had once cut deals with, powerful women Celina once charmed, couples her mother once invited to dinner. She saw old money and new money, wealthy widows and wealthier divorcees. But there was no sign of Michael. He hadn’t arrived.
There was a hand on her arm. Leana turned and saw Louis Ryan.
“Dance?” he asked.
Leana looked crossly at him. He was wearing a black silk dinner jacket and a deep red tie. “Where have you been?” she asked. “People have been asking where you are, I had to greet the guests myself and you said you’d be here hours ago. Where were you?”
Louis lifted a finger to his lips. “I know I’m late and I apologize. But I do have an excellent excuse.” He paused, then said in a quieter voice, “I’ve found the person who murdered your sister.”
Stunned, Leana could only look at him. “You’ve found him?”
“That’s right,” Louis said. “Spocatti came through. I told you he's the best.”
“Who is he? Where is he?”
“I won’t talk about it in this crowd-too many people listening.” He motioned toward the dance floor, where society was whirling. “Come,” he said. “Dance with me. I’ll whisper what I know in your ear.”
She followed him to the dance floor, hesitating only briefly when a photographer stepped in their path to take their picture. A light flashed, the photographer moved aside and as Leana walked passed him, she saw on his face the hunger and desperation her sister must have seen when she was in this very position.
Louis led her to the center of the dance floor, put his arm around her waist and they started to dance. “It’s amazing,” he said, looking around the jammed lobby. “For years these people, these members of New York society, have ignored me. Like the Baron and Baroness over there. Do you know how many times I’ve been invited to one of their famous dinner parties, Leana? Zero. Zero times. They’ve had that fucking penthouse on Fifth for twenty-five years and I’ve never stepped foot in it. But when I hire you to manage the hotel, the whole world comes running. Life’s funny that way, isn’t it?”
“Either that or you made the right decision in hiring me. Tell me what you know.”
It was as though the question went unheard.
Louis held her slightly closer and turned her so they were dancing in front of the orchestra. “I’m sorry to hear what happened to your father today,” he said. He saw the disbelief in her eyes and said, “I mean that. Believe it or not-despite my feelings for the man, I do respect him. And I do admire the balls it took for him to buy WestTex. If it had worked out for him, if Iran only waited a while longer, your father would have made history. Now, I’m afraid he’ll lose everything.”
“Louis-”
“What do you think he would have thought of this, Leana? Do you think he would have liked the hotel?”
“I really don’t care.”
“But I do.”
“Then we’ll discuss it later.”
“No,” Louis said. “Let’s discuss it now. I don’t think your father would like any of this. Years ago, when we worked together, he didn’t respect my ideas. It was George’s way or no way.” He shrugged. “But maybe I’m wrong. It’s tough to trump what I’ve just built. At the very least, if he was here, he’d be jealous and wish it was his own.”
Leana tried to step away from him, but his grip was so firm, she knew she would create a scene if she did so. She glared at him. “What’s the matter with you?” she said. “Let go of me. People are watching.”
“Then stop struggling.” He held her closer and said softly in her ear, “I thought you wanted me to tell you about the man who murdered your sister?”
His mouth was now so close to her face, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He had been drinking. Incredulous, Leana said, “What I want is for you to stop playing games.” It came to her that they were barely moving, that people at the surrounding tables were watching them, wondering what they were talking about.
“All right,” Louis sighed. “This is what I know. It seems that your father made an enemy years ago. I don’t know the man’s name-Spocatti will tell you that later-but I do know that your father destroyed the man. First he tried through business, but then it became personal.”
People were dancing around them, smiling that faintly secretive smile so many people of wealth assumed.
“The man is out for revenge,” Louis said. “He wants Redman to see what it feels like to lose the most important things in his life-including his business, his daughter and who knows what else, maybe you and your mother.”
Louis nodded at a woman as she breezed past them and touched his arm.
“Tell me who he is.”
Louis was about to speak when a ripple of excitement went through the crowd, followed by the distinct sound of shattering glass. There was the sound of men shouting somewhere in the distance.
Louis said, “What the hell…?” But Leana was already gone, moving toward the bar that was near the east entrance.
The head of security, a former marine lieutenant, saw her and intercepted. “No need to be alarmed, Ms. Redman. Everything’s taken care of.”
Leana looked past the man and saw several members of security muscling two members of her bar staff from the lobby.
“What happened?”
The man glanced at the crowd, then took Leana gently by the arm. “Let’s talk where it’s more private.”
Leana followed him through a set of doors that led to the outer lobby, where the barmen were being handcuffed. She studied them for a moment and thought they looked vaguely familiar, as if she’d met them somewhere before.
“What have they done?” she asked.
Before the lieutenant could respond, a door swung open and Louis Ryan stepped into the room. His face was flushed. His forehead was shiny. He glanced over at the two barmen, then looked with confusion at Leana. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Leana refused to look at him. “Obviously there’s been a problem,” she said.
Louis turned to the lieutenant. “What kind of problem?”
