Tic Tac Toe (A Suspense Novel) by Kel E. Mitchell
Tic Tac Toe
Kel E. Mitchell
Text copyright © 2009 by Kellie Elizabeth Chapman
All Rights Reserved
Cover design by Wayland Holfeltz
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
To my family for their love and support.
Especially Mark and Karolyn who inspired the idea,
worked through drafts and filled this endeavor
with fond memories and laughter.
I am extremely grateful.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Epilogue
Prologue
Boston – Present Day
How could this be happening? This sort of thing happens to other people, people in movies. Having a family member murdered just doesn’t happen to real people, does it? Irene Duncan had finally put what was left of her life back together – only to have it fall apart once again. This was a bad dream, yet as Irene glanced around the room during her father’s wake, she knew this was not a dream. She was certain in fact that this was as close as she’d ever come to living a nightmare. But she knew there would be no reprieve to this nightmare by simply waking up because, as misfortune would have it, she was already awake even though she looked as though she were half dead. Her thick, dark brown hair was parted on the side and pulled back severely into a pristine bun at the nape of her neck. Her almost too-slender face was pale, even more so than usual. Her flawless, porcelain skin accentuated her high, prominent cheekbones. Despite Irene’s chiseled bone structure, her features were soft and full. Yet, her most striking feature by far, were her large, steel-colored eyes. Her brilliant eyes lacked their usual luster and sparkle. They looked vague and detached. They were red and swollen from days of crying. She had eaten little since she received the news of her father’s brutal murder, and her already slender form now appeared to be wasting away. Belying the look of exhaustion on her solemn face, the black, raw silk suit she wore was immaculate. The straight skirt fell just above her knees. Her tailored jacket fit snugly and contoured to her slender torso. She wore jet-black nylons and trendy stiletto heels, which added a good three inches to her average height. As she stood silently in the congested room, spectators found her presence haunting. Just three days earlier while at her Aunt Phyllis’s home in France, where she had been living for the past six years, Irene had received the news that her father, Judge William Duncan, had been murdered. Phyllis was her father’s older sister, and now that both her parents were dead, she was Irene’s only living relative. Upon receiving the startling news of her father’s death earlier that week, Irene and Phyllis settled their immediate affairs in Paris, packed quickly, and hastily flew through most of the night, leaving them only a little more than a day and a half to plan her father’s wake. There was no funeral scheduled at the moment because the police hadn’t yet released her father’s body. Once the police released Duncan’s body, he would be cremated as Irene’s mother had been. Duncan had kept his wife’s remains in an urn after she passed away because they had planned to have their ashes scattered together. Now, as Irene stood by the large oil painting of her father, it was no wonder she looked exhausted and broken – she was.
As Irene stood speechless in the front room of her family’s estate, she scanned the large, muddled crowd. At last she made eye contact with the only face she recognized, her father’s life-long friend Christopher Blake. As she watched Christopher Blake approach her, his presence evoked memories from her past, but Irene quickly pushed them to the back of her mind. Blake was a formidable, middle-aged man. He wore a perfectly tailored dark suit, white shirt, and a black and red tie. He had on gold cuff links with his initials engraved into them. In addition, it looked as though his shiny black shoes had never been worn before. He looked every bit the high-powered executive that he was; yet Irene felt no intimidation – only recognition – of not only her father’s closest friend but someone she loved as well.
“Irene,” Blake said, “my goodness it’s been a long time. I’m so sorry about your father.”
She put her slim hands in his outstretched palms and felt his huge hands enfold hers. Blake’s warmth earned him a gorgeous smile from Irene, her first genuine smile since her arrival back home. Irene said warmly, “Blake, I was hoping you’d be here. You’re the only person in this sea of people I recognize and definitely the only one besides Aunt Phyllis who feels like family.”
Blake looked at her seriously. “Irene, now that your father is gone I expect you to let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Understand? I know you have Phyllis, but you also have me and of course Max.” Irene stiffened at the mention of Max’s name, and the movement was not lost on Blake. Blake studied her troubled face and said, “What ever happened between you and Max? You used to be inseparable.” Before Irene could respond, Blake continued, “Oh, here he comes now.” Just then, Irene’s glance followed Blake’s across the crowded room, and she and Maxwell Frost made eye contact for the first time in six years. Her face couldn’t hide her anxiety. Her heart started pounding, and she began to tremble. Her hands were clammy and cold, and she felt like she was going to be sick. Suddenly it seemed as though it was six years ago, and she felt the humiliation and embarrassment so acutely it made it seem as though their last conversation was only just ye
Chapter 1
Boston – Irene age 7
“When are they going to get here?” Irene exclaimed. “It seems like it’s taking forever.”
Seville Duncan glanced at her only child, and trying to hide the amusement in her voice replied, “It’s only been an hour since your father called from his office to say that he was on his way to pick them up.” Irene’s father, Judge William Duncan, had left directly from work that day to pick up his friend Christopher Blake and Blake’s nephew Maxwell Frost at the airport. Max was coming to live with his Uncle Blake since his parents had been killed in a car accident.
Christopher Blake and William Duncan had been friends since college. They were in the same fraternity and ended up being roommates their sophomore year. They had roomed together the rest of college. The two of them appeared to be an odd duo – especially since they had little in common. Duncan was tall and slender. He had thick, dark brown hair and silver eyes. He was charismatic and handsome and always had a pack of giggling girls surrounding him. Blake, on the other hand, was stocky. He was beginning to lose his hair and would soon end up completely bald. His facial expressions were often unreadable. He seemed stern and unapproachable. He rarely had a group of girls tailing him, unless of course, he was walking around campus with Duncan. The one thing these friends did have in common was that they were both incredibly intelligent. They had graduated from college at the same time and were both accepted to the same university for their respective graduate degrees. Duncan studied law and Blake studied business.
It was during Duncan and Blake’s graduate programs that Duncan first met his future wife Seville Chambers. On a crisp autumn day, Duncan was hastily leaving the library on his way to class when he passed a stunning brunette walking through the main doors. Duncan turned around and followed the beautiful woman back into the library, where the two of them ended up talking all afternoon. That first meeting was just the beginning of what would end up being a lasting relationship. They dated for two years while they both finished school and then got engaged just after graduation. Blake and Seville became good friends quickly. All three graduated the same year – Duncan with his law degree, Seville her bachelor’s of music, and Blake his master’s of business administration. Duncan and Seville were married in Boston about a year later, and Blake was Duncan’s best man.
Duncan and Blake’s friendship became even more solidified when Duncan agreed to invest millions of dollars of his family’s money into Blake’s first entrepreneurial endeavor. The business venture turned out to be a great success, turning millions of dollars into several billions. After that first business venture, Blake formed several other organizations, all in diversified fields, one of which was a newspaper, The New England Post, which he still owned and operated. His other companies turned out to be highly successful as well, due to his careful planning and implementation strategies, thus securing his reputation in the corporate world as an entrepreneurial genius. He still owned and supervised several of the companies he had founded. He was a workaholic and decided early on in the game of life against marriage, believing it would interfere with his corporate success.
Just as Blake was turning his first business into a corporate phenomenon, his closest friends Duncan and Seville experienced the birth of their first child – a little girl. They decided to name her Irene Matilda Duncan. Irene was a sweet, happy baby, and over the next seven years her personality remained very much the same as when she first came into the world. She was a joy to her parents and the love of their lives. Duncan had been working as a highly successful defense attorney in Boston, and just following Irene’s birth, became a judge for the state of Massachusetts. He was the youngest person in the state to ever hold such a prominent position. Over the next seven years, he became admired and respected by people throughout the legal world. He was well liked despite his sometimes radical and controversial case rulings. His aspiration was to serve as a Supreme Court justice for the state. Blake and the Duncans lived close to one another; and during the past seven years, they got together often, especially on special occasions such as Irene’s birthday. Irene adored her father’s best friend, despite his stern exterior, and by the age of seven, she had Blake wrapped securely around her baby finger.
As Seville stood behind Irene at the window waiting for Duncan, Blake, and Max to arrive, she recalled Blake’s expression just two weeks earlier when he heard the terrible news about his sister and brother-in-law. Blake had traveled to Virginia to handle the funeral arrangements. He also had to get everything in order for his 11-year-old nephew Maxwell Frost to come and live with him. Despite Blake’s uneasiness about becoming a parent, he had adored his sister and was pleased that his nephew Max was coming to Boston. While Blake was in Virginia for the funeral, he decided then and there that he would be the best parent to Max he could be. He resolved that Max would be given every opportunity to succeed in life and would grow up knowing how much both Blake and his parents loved him.
As Seville and Irene gazed outside into the rainy evening, they finally saw Duncan’s BMW pull into the circular driveway and stop in front of the steps that led to their Colonial style home. At this point, Seville left Irene standing by the beveled paned window and went into the entryway and opened the front doors to welcome them. Seville was introduced to Max and greeted him warmly. After their introduction, while Duncan was distracting Max, Blake leaned over to Seville and whispered, “I’m worried about Max. I haven’t seen him cry since he found out about his mom and dad. What should I do?”
Seville put her hand on Blake’s arm and responded sympathetically, “Just give it some time. He’s probably still in shock. I’m sure he’ll let out his emotions when it’s the right time.” Blake nodded to her and the group started into the kitchen area where Seville told Max her daughter Irene was anxious to meet him.
Just then, Irene heard the voices from the entryway grow louder, and her father, mother, Blake, and Max appeared in the doorway of the beautiful room. The kitchen walls were a brown and red brick that complemented the hardwood floor. The room was elegantly furnished with Victorian furniture, area rugs, and accessories that added to the home’s overall historic feel. As Irene stood speechless by the window, her father gestured for her to come forward; and when she reached him, he laid his hand on her shoulder and said, “Irene, this is Blake’s nephew Max. He is going to live with him from now on. Max, this is our daughter Irene. Irene, say hello to Max.”
Irene looked up at the boy, who towered over her small form, and smiled shyly. She observed that Max had dark brown hair, even darker than her own, and that his eyes, which watched her timidly, were the darkest shade of green she had ever seen. Irene walked a few steps forward until she was standing directly in front of Max and then she wrapped her arms around his waist – enveloping him in a tight hug – surprising both her parents and Blake. Irene’s voice laced with emotion, due to the tears she was starting to shed, said softly, “I’m sorry, Max, about your mom and dad. I’ll bet you miss them a lot.” Max stood there for a moment dumbfounded as this tiny stranger hugged him. He surprised the adult onlookers even more when he put his arms around Irene’s shoulders and returned her hug. Finally, the tears that Max had been suppressing began to fall down his cheeks.
Chapter 2
Boston – Irene age 8
“Seville, are you sure that this is okay with you? I mean having Max at your house every day after school,” Blake said worriedly into the phone as he leaned back in a leather c
Seville responded to Blake in an amused voice that sounded rather like she was explaining something to a small child. “Blake dear, we have had this discussion a thousand times! How many times do I have to tell you that it’s fine! You know how much we all adore Max, especially Irene. She follows him everywhere, and they are always together. She absolutely worships him!” Seville started laughing. “Maybe I should be asking you if Max needs some space.”
She heard Blake laugh over the phone. “No, Max doesn’t need space. He’ll just have to get used to Irene worshiping him. I’d better tell him to enjoy it while it lasts! When she gets older, it’ll be a whole lot harder for him to get her attention!”
Seville laughed and said, “Blake, stop worrying about me. Everything’s fine. We all love Max and enjoy having him around.”
“You’re the best. I can’t tell you how much it means to me just how supportive you have all been through this. It has made things so much easier for me – and Max.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say.” After a slight pause, Seville’s voice became energetic once again, “Now stop calling me, and go back to work! I’ll see you tonight when you pick up Max.” She hung up the phone in the kitchen and glanced at the clock on the wall realizing it was time for her to drop Irene off at her ballet class. She left the kitchen, walked to the entryway, and called up the stairs, “Max, Irene, come on guys it’s time to go. Irene, are you changed for your lesson?”
Seville sat down on a tufted velvet bench in the entry to wait and took several deep breaths to help relieve the pain she felt so often these days. Soon she heard Max and Irene’s feet racing on the wood flooring in the hall upstairs and then watched as they both headed down the grand staircase. Max was still in his private school uniform. However, he had discarded the jacket, and the tie was loose around his neck. The top button of his white, collared shirt was undone. He also had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and looked far more comfortable now than when he had arrived there that afternoon.