The Golden Chance

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Oh, shut up.” Victoria wiped her eyes with a quick, angry movement. “I knew there was no point trying to ask you. I knew it would just end up like this. I wish I'd had the sense to keep my mouth shut. Damn Phila.”

  “Phila? What's Phila got to do with any of this?” Darren was getting angry. “What the hell did you want to ask me? I don't remember any question.”

  “Because I've been afraid to ask it for three years,” Victoria blazed. “I didn't know if I could trust you to tell me the truth, and I would have to leave if the answer was yes. Don't you see? I would have no choice. As long as I didn't ask, I could pretend most of the time that everything was all right, that the answer was no.”

  “Damn it, Vicky. What did you want to ask me?”

  Victoria looked at him through her tears. “Was the baby yours?”

  “Baby? What baby?” Then he caught on. Darren's eyes widened in amazement. “Oh, for God's sake. You don't mean Hilary's, do you? You can't believe the baby was mine?”

  “Why not?” Victoria retorted. “For three years you've believed the only reason I stayed with you was because your father offered to make it worth my while.”

  “My father told me about that damned bribe,” Darren said, his face taut and furious. “I know he offered to pay you off.”

  “But I didn't accept,” Victoria raged. “I never said I'd take his money. But I could never prove it to you. You chose to believe him. Now he's dead, and I'll never have a chance to prove I'm innocent.”

  “What about me? How am I suppose to prove I'm innocent?”

  “Are you?” Victoria held her breath.

  “Hell, yes. I wouldn't go near Hilary Lightfoot in a bed even if I happened to be wearing a full suit of armor. I'm not blind. I saw what she did to Nick during the first year of their marriage. What's more, Hilary has absolutely no interest in me or any other man as far as I can tell. She's all wrapped up in herself and the company. What in God's name made you think the baby was mine?”

  Victoria could hardly breathe. “I wasn't certain. I didn't want to believe it. For three years I've tried not to believe it. But you know how it was back then, Darren. We were having so many problems. And Nick and Hilary had just split up, and I was so afraid Hilary was turning to you for…for consolation.”

  “Consolation.”

  “I knew she was terrified of no longer being married to a Lightfoot and I was afraid she'd decided to marry a Castleton, instead. Darren, you know as well as I do that the two of you spent a lot of time together during that period.”

  Darren's handsome face suffused with a dark tint. “She was upset,” he agreed. “She did talk to me a few times.”

  “She's very beautiful.”

  “I know.” He sighed heavily. “And she was scared. For a while I felt sorry for her.”

  “That's what I was afraid of.” Victoria looked at the foot of the bed.

  “You and I were always arguing back then. Sometimes I got damn sick and tired of it. Dad was always telling me you were probably going to walk out and take his grandson with you. He kept telling me you thought you'd married beneath yourself. He said he knew the signs. He'd seen them in Mom when she married him. He said I'd better learn how to control you. Then he told me I probably wasn't man enough to do it.”

  “Oh, Darren.”

  “So, yes, I guess there were times when it was comforting to listen to Hilary's problems. At least I knew I wasn't alone. But I never slept with her, Vicky. Christ, even if I'd wanted to, I wouldn't have done it. Hell, the divorce wasn't even final at that point, remember? She was still married to Nick, as far as I was concerned.”

  “And you wouldn't have gone to bed with Nick's wife any more than he would have gone to bed with yours,” Victoria concluded slowly. A vast sense of relief washed over her.

  Darren nodded. “That's about the size of it. Nick and I were raised together. We're practically brothers. We wouldn't mess around with each other's wives any more than Dad and Reed would have swapped Mom and Nora. But there's no way I could ever prove it to you.”

  “I can never prove I didn't stay with you because of your father's promise to give me an extra helping in the will. Where does that leave us, Darren?”

  He sat silently for a moment and then he touched her hand fleetingly. “We're still together, aren't we? We managed to stay together for the past three years, even though we both had a lot of doubts.”

  Victoria tried a small, misty smile. “Yes, we did, didn't we? Phila said there must be something solid underneath or we wouldn't have made it this far together.”

  Darren got into bed beside her. “Tell me again why you married me.”

  “If you bring up the subject of the dress one more time, I will strangle you,” Phila announced the next morning as she hopped out of the way of the foaming surf. She was barefoot, her jeans rolled up to mid-calf. The sea was in a frisky mood.

  “I can't believe you're going to be so stubborn about this.” Nick had taken off his shoes, too. He also had his jeans rolled up a couple of inches above his ankles.

  “I can be stubborn about anything I want.” Phila was about to continue on that theme when Jordan's voice shrilled across the expanse of beach.

  “Hi, Phila. Hi, Nick. Hi, Phila. Hi, Nick. Hi, Phila.”

  “Kid's got a problem with his soundtrack,” Nick observed as he waved at Darren, Victoria and their son, who were walking toward them.

  “For Pete's sake. They brought the dogs.” Phila braced herself as Cupcake and Fifi came charging toward her, their tongues lolling. At the last instant she realized they had already been swimming in the surf. They were soaking wet. “No, wait a minute, you brutes. Don't you dare shake. Stop it.”

  But it was too late. Nick prudently stepped aside while the rottweilers sprayed Phila. “Hi, Jordan,” he said, hoisting the boy up into the air for a quick greeting. “What are you doing today?”

  “Gonna find some good seaweed.”

  “Sounds like a great plan.” Nick set Jordan on his feet. The boy immediately headed toward Phila, who was still trying to escape from Cupcake and Fifi.

  Darren grinned at Nick. “His seaweed collection has a problem. The stuff self-destructs after it's been in his room for a while, and Mrs. Atkins throws it out.”

  “Maybe he should collect shells,” Nick suggested.

  Phila chuckled. “They're not slimy enough. Jordan's a connoisseur, aren't you, Jordan? He wants nice, slimy seaweed.”

  “Yes.” Jordan nodded happily and went off to investigate a possible addition to his collection.

  “Ah, now I get the picture,” Nick said. “'Morning, Vicky. You're just the person I wanted to see. I'm trying to convince Phila to go to Darren's fund-raiser with me. She says she doesn't have anything to wear. Maybe you can reassure her.”

  “Then you will be attending, Nick? I wasn't certain.” Victoria studied him with faint anxiety in her eyes.

  Nick smiled coolly. “It's a family event, isn't it? I was under the impression Eleanor thinks we should present a united front. I'll be there.”

  Darren looked at him and nodded brusquely. “Thanks. I appreciate that. The more arm-twisters there, the better. Vicky and I are still a little new at this, but my staff tells me we'd better get used to it.”

  Victoria watched her son playing near the edge of the water. “It takes money to run for office. Everyone knows that. Money and time. Campaigning is a full-time job, you know.”

  “I can see where it would be,” Nick commented calmly.

  Victoria seemed to come to some inner decision. She glanced at Phila. “Don't worry about having an expensive dress. Something simple in black will be just fine. Black goes anywhere.”

  Phila cleared her throat. “I don't have a single black item in my entire wardrobe.”

  Victoria surveyed the coral-striped top Phila was wearing with her green jeans. She smiled slowly. “Somehow, I'm not surprised.”

  “We'll find something for her to wear,” Nick said. He c
aught Phila's hand. “Come on, let's finish this walk you insisted we take. I want to get in another session at the range before lunch.”

  “I'm getting tired of practicing with that gun, Nick. I don't think I was cut out to be Annie Oakley.”

  “I'll settle for Matt Dillon. Let's go.” He nodded to Darren and Victoria as he tugged on Phila's wrist. “See you two later.”

  “Right.” Darren took his wife's hand and they headed off in pursuit of their son.

  Phila glanced back as the little boy yelled in happy excitement and raced toward another strand of seaweed. “Mrs. Atkins is going to have another specimen to deal with this afternoon.”

  “She won't mind,” Nick said. “She loves Jordan.”

  “Everybody does. Jordan is a very lucky little boy. There are a lot of kids in this world who aren't that lucky.”

  Nick's hand tightened around hers. “Speaking of kids, how are we doing?”

  Phila yanked her gaze back from Jordan. “What are you talking about?”

  “I just wondered if you were getting set to come after me with a gun.”

  Phila's throat felt suddenly tight, her stomach turned queasy. “I won't know for a while yet. A few more days.”

  “You will let me know as soon as you find out, one way or the other, won't you?”

  “worried?”

  “Not particularly. Are you?”

  Phila set her teeth together and did not answer.

  “Phila?” Nick pulled on her hand. “I asked if you were worried.”

  “Of course I'm worried. Any woman in my situation would be worried. The odds are that I'm not pregnant, though.”

  “It only takes one time.”

  “Thanks for the reassurance. You don't have to remind me,” she retorted. “I've seen it happen often enough in my line of work. Ex-line of work.”

  “Do you ever think of having a family?” Nick asked after a moment.

  “The subject has crossed my mind a few times lately,” she muttered. “Hard not to think about it when you're worried you might be pregnant.”

  “I mean, in general, have you given the matter much thought?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Phila let out a long breath. “I'm afraid, I suppose. Families are so fragile. So much can go wrong, even when everyone's intentions are good. People get divorced so easily these days. They put themselves and their precious freedom ahead of their children and then lie to themselves and tell everyone the kids are better off because at least the adults aren't arguing over the dinner table every night.”

  “Statistically, you've got a point, I guess. The divorce rate is sky-high. The kind of work you used to do and your personal background probably haven't added to your faith in the stability of the American family, either.”

  “No.”

  “You've been exposed to the worst-possible-case situations, haven't you? First you lived it, and then you went into the business of dealing with children of families that were having major problems. Stands to reason you'd be a bit skittish on the topic.”

  “That's me. Skittish on the topic.”

  “It's kind of ironic, isn't it? You've made a career out of trying to salvage families and children, and yet you're afraid to have a family yourself.”

  “We've all got our personal hang-ups,” she said.

  “True.” Nick was quiet for a moment, apparently lost in his own thoughts. “Did Vicky and Darren seem a little different to you this morning?”

  “Maybe they finally got around to talking to each other.”

  “About what?”

  “This and that,” said Phila.

  Hilary went cold when she walked into the study and saw Reed sitting at the desk. He hadn't sat in that chair for over two years. The niggling sense that she was losing control of everything made her stomach tighten.

  “Hello, Reed. Was there something you wanted?”

  Reed looked up from the thick document he was studying and smiled absently at her. He took off his hornrimmed reading glasses and put them down on the stack of papers he had been going through. “I just wandered in here and happened to see the Hewett papers sitting on the desk. I remember you mentioned something about it last month. How is the deal going? Did you get old Hewett to stop bellyaching about the delivery dates?”

  “I think we finally reached a compromise. I talked to Leighton in Purchasing and Contracts and he said Hewett was calming down.” Hilary moved over to the desk and glanced at the papers under Reed's glasses. They were just the Hewett papers, she saw with relief.

  Reed nodded. “Old Henry Hewett has been with us from the beginning. He took a chance on us back when C&L couldn't even guarantee to pay its light bill. I'd hate to see us stop doing business with him now.”

  “We won't.” Hilary smiled reassuringly. “I didn't realize you were interested in the outcome of the contract negotiations. The last time I mentioned it you didn't want to be bothered with those kinds of details.”

  “I know.” Reed got to his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. He wandered toward the window and stood looking out over the sweep of lawn. “But things change sometimes. I've been letting you carry most of the load around here for a long time. I'm sorry, Hilary. I shouldn't have pushed it all off on you. For a while I thought Burke was taking care of things.”

  “He was.”

  “But after he died, I should have stepped back in and taken the responsibility.”

  Hilary propped one hip on the edge of the desk, her lizard-skin-shod foot swinging gently. “I wanted the responsibility. I needed it. We both know it saved my sanity. I would have been a basket case three years ago if I hadn't had the Lightfoot portion of the company to manage. C&L means everything to me, Reed.”

  He nodded, not looking around. “You've worked god-damned hard.”

  “I've given it everything I've got.” Her voice was tight with feeling. She tried to relax.

  Reed nodded again, and this time he did turn around. “You're an amazing woman, Hilary. I have nothing but respect for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome.” Reed walked out of the room.

  Hilary closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then she got up and went around to her chair. When she reached for the telephone, her fingers were trembling. She dialed the familiar number with great care. She should have thought of this sooner. Much sooner.

  “Hello, Mrs. Gilford. Please put me through to Mr. Vellacott.”

  “I'm sorry, Mrs. Lightfoot. Mr. Vellacott is out of the office.”

  The fool was probably playing tennis. He always ducked out to play tennis in the afternoons when he thought she wouldn't notice. She should have replaced Vellacott a year ago. But he had been useful precisely because he paid so little attention to details. Hilary stifled her impatience. “Tell him I want him to call me as soon as he gets in, will you?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Lightfoot. How is your vacation going?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “We were all so pleased to see Mr. Lightfoot in the office the other day. It's been such a long time.”

  The cold feeling in Hilary's stomach got worse. “Yes, it has, hasn't it? How long was he there, Mrs. Gilford?”

  “Not long. Half an hour or less. Seemed anxious to get back to Port Claxton.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Gilford. Don't forget I want to speak to Mr. Vellacott as soon as he gets into the office.”

  “Of course.”

  Hilary hung up the phone and forced herself to think clearly. Half an hour was not long enough for Nick to have gotten a locksmith in to open the safe. Even if he had, he could not have known what to look for in the first place. If he had gotten the safe open and found the Traynor file it would be meaningless to him. Just another file on another potential supplier. She was not stupid enough to leave anything incriminating lying around.

  Hilary started to drum her long, peach-tinted fingernails on the polished surface of the desk and then ca
ught herself. She stilled her hand.

  It could not fall apart now, not when she was so close, she thought fearfully. All she had to do was keep it together until the August meeting.

  But she was losing total control of the situation, and she sensed it. She probably did not have to worry too much about Darren and Vicky. Eleanor could keep them from wavering. But Reed was a different matter. She had been so sure he was not going to be a problem, but now she was no longer certain.

  Reed hadn't shown any real interest in the company for so long she had convinced herself he would never again get involved. But, then, she had been certain Nick would never come back, either. She had been wrong on both counts.

  It was not right. She deserved justice. She deserved vengeance. She would not allow herself to be defeated at this stage.

  “Crissie,” she whispered softly, “if only you were still here. I need you. I need someone to talk to. Why couldn't Phila have been more like you?”

  Something was happening to the whole plan; Hilary could feel it. Her instincts warned her that she had to control Reed. He was the biggest risk at the moment.

  Hilary decided she had better have a talk with Eleanor.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I always felt this room turned out the finest of all the rooms in both beach cottages.” Eleanor gazed around Reed's library, remembering the hours of planning and work she had put into this particular room. It had been very important to her that Reed's library be right.

  “You did a goddamn good…I mean, you did a terrific job with it, Eleanor. Nora always said you had great taste.” Reed moved over to the butler's tray. “Can I get you something?”

  Eleanor glanced at the clock. “Why not? It is after five, isn't it?”

  “It's definitely after five. In fact, I think it's getting a little late all the way around.” Reed poured two brandies and carried one back to her.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Nothing. Just an idle comment.”

  She took the glass from him and watched him seat himself in the wing-back easy chair. She had chosen that chair with great care, wanting it to be comfortable for him. He was a big man; he needed a strong, solid chair.