"Raymond, may I ask you something?"
Dembe and Red were sitting in front of the lit fireplace in the living room of the safe house Red had converted into a rehab facility for Elizabeth. Dembe had insisted that Red relax this evening; he had been by Liz' side all day, watching for any sign of change.
The younger man had been out of the house until early evening. When the nursing staff informed him that Raymond had not eaten, but had only drunk water all day, he had gone into the kitchen and made a hearty shrimp and pasta dish with a salad. After their meal, Dembe had built the fire while Red got the brandy and glasses for their after dinner drinks. He sat on the couch close enough to Red that their sides touched.
Red felt comforted by the contact and smiled briefly. "You know you may ask me anything. What do you want to know?"
"Are you going to tell Scottie Hargrave that Tom is dead?"
Raymond sipped his drink. "To be honest, I'm ashamed to say that I haven't even given her a thought." He leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling. "I don't know. What would be the point? How would I even explain calling to tell her an asset of mine is dead? An asset whose only connection to her that she knows of is that he was a temporary employee of hers. What do you think?"
"Had Tom told her that he is her son?"
"I don't believe he did. She would have called me, I think, to demand to know if I knew and why I hadn't told her. I never received that call."
"She would surely be pleased to know she has a granddaughter."
"Perhaps, but I have absolutely no intention of telling her that now," Red said adamantly.
Dembe was shocked. "Why would you not tell her?"
Red drained his glass, refilled it and topped off Dembe's drink. "Let's say I call Scottie and I tell her that Tom is her child and now he's dead and by the way, he was married to Elizabeth Keen and they have a year old daughter She's already grieved her child; to discover that unbeknownst to her, her son was with her would reopen horrible, terrible wounds."
"She would hate me, not that I care about what Scottie Hargrave thinks of me but in her grief and anger she might come after me and my organization. We're not strong enough at the moment to fight her and her team and I don't want or need the distraction. But most importantly, with Lizzie in a coma, she might demand custody of Agnes and take Isabella to court to get it. I can't take that chance."
Dembe nodded his understanding. "If Scottie won custody of Agnes, we would probably never see her again if Elizabeth…Well, you know." He put his right arm around Red's shoulders. "That would break your heart."
"Yes."
The two men sat quietly sipping their drinks, lost in their own thoughts. The fire was dying down and Red reached to turn on the lamp on the end table. "It has occurred to me, Dembe, that it is possible that there might be medical history on Tom's side of the family that might need to be known one day and I'll have to approach Scottie. With the passage of time, she might not believe Agnes is related to her, she'll require proof. To that end, I retrieved Tom's shirt with his blood on it so she can match Agnes' DNA to Tom's."
"I see. Like Harold Cooper matched Elizabeth's DNA and declared you her father?"
Red glanced sideways at Dembe, sipped his drink and said nothing.