Crime and Passion

by Marie Ferrarella

  His first instinct was to tell Clay, but that was the father in him talking. The detective within him advised caution and careful examination. There might be reasons he didn’t know about. He needed to talk to Ilene first. Alone.

  And that, he thought as he shut down the computer, was not going to be an easy matter. He was going to have to wait until everyone left in the morning.

  From where he was standing the night seemed very long.

  Clay had seemed antsy to her all last night, and it had only intensified this morning. Every time she asked him if there was anything wrong, he’d denied it, sometimes with a laugh, sometimes he would kiss her and they’d progress onto other things. Basically, he was shutting her out, she thought as she watched him from across the table. Maybe it was the beginning of the end. Again.

  What else could it be?

  Ilene picked at her toast, her appetite a no-show this morning. Maybe he was bracing himself to deliver the inevitable words: So long. She couldn’t fool herself into thinking this was going to continue indefinitely, not with the indictment coming up tomorrow. Once that was behind them, things would all be out in the open. The news media would descend, and the D.A.’s office would do something formal for her and Alex’s protection.

  Which probably meant leaving here.

  She didn’t want to go.

  Briefly she made eye contact with Clay, but then he looked away. Her heart began to sink. He was going to initiate another breakup. Things had been going too smoothly, which meant they were getting serious. He didn’t like things to get too serious.

  Last night the lovemaking had seemed a little off. Though he’d denied it, he’d been preoccupied, only half in the room. Was the other half getting ready to pack its bags and flee?

  She watched him now as conversation flew around the breakfast table. He’d taken little part in any of it, allowing his siblings and the three cousins to dominate the table. He answered only when the occasional comment was directed his way.

  And then, abruptly, he was getting up. Leaving. Something inside of her screamed Mayday.

  “I’ve got to get going,” he told his father, pushing his chair back under the table.

  Busy serving up seconds to Shaw, Andrew nodded. “See you tonight.”

  Without waiting for an invitation she feared wouldn’t come, Ilene rose to her feet, ready to walk him to the door. And to ask him one last time if there was anything wrong.

  The way she knew there was.

  She never got the chance.

  He stopped short of the door, drawing her into the living room inside. “You know how you asked me earlier if there was something on my mind?”

  Her heart had somehow crawled up in her throat, making breathing a real challenge. She felt as if everything she held dear was suddenly on the line. “Yes?”

  “Well, there is.”

  Unconsciously squaring her shoulders, Ilene braced herself, ready for anything. Except for what she heard.

  “Marry me.”

  For the first time in her life, her jaw dropped open, as if all the bones had suddenly been sucked out. “What?”

  Clay held up two fingers. “Two words. First word, marry, rhymes with carry. Second word, me, rhymes with—”

  There was this buzzing sound in her head, blotting out his voice. She went on staring. “You’re serious?”

  “I never joke when I’m rhyming.” Nerves danced wildly all through him. Clay had never thought he’d get the proposal, such as it was, out. Now that he finally had, this wasn’t the way he’d hoped she would react. Like someone who found herself standing barefoot in a minefield. He went with the only conclusion he could. “You don’t want to.”

  Like a woman possessed, she began to shake her head back and forth. “No, oh, God, no—”

  Confusion intensified. Could he have been that wrong? He needed it spelled out. “‘Oh God, no’ as in, how could you think of asking me?”

  Again she could only stare at him. How could he possibly even think that? “No, I want to marry you,” she said quickly, “I’ve always wanted to marry you, but—why are you asking?”

  It seemed rather a strange question, given that men had been proposing to women since they came out of the caves and donned shoes. “Because I decided to stop being a coward. And because I love you.”

  He loves me. The words echoed in her brain. He loved her. She was afraid to clutch them to her breast. “No other reason?”

  He definitely was not following her thought process. “There’s more?”

  Her brain jumbled, she struggled to find the words that would make him understand. “I mean, Alex doesn’t have anything to do with it?”

  So that was it. She was worried about how all this would affect her son. “Sure, Alex has something to do with it. I want him, too. I know the two of you are a package deal and—”

  She couldn’t bear to have him go down the wrong path. Ilene placed her finger to his lips, her heart hammering madly. Her moment of reckoning, she knew, had finally come. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Go ahead,” he said warily.

  “Alex isn’t four, he’s five.” The sound of the back door opening and closing vaguely registered. Were people arriving or leaving? She wanted to flee with them. She took a deep breath. It didn’t help. Ilene pushed on. “He’s also yours.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was deadly still, devoid of all emotion. She couldn’t read the look in his eyes.

  Words crashed together in her head. She had to make him understand. “I was the reason my parents got married. I was the reason life was a living hell for all of us. I wasn’t going to let Alex go through that.”

  “Are you like your mother?”

  “No.”

  He pinned her in place with a look that was darker than any she’d ever seen. “Am I like your father?”

  “No.”

  “Well then?”

  Her back to the wall, she fought back. This wasn’t all on her. He deserved part of the blame.

  “But you never once said you wanted to settle down, even someday. You thought marriage was okay for other people, but you made a point of letting me know that you weren’t in that group.” He began to say something, but she anticipated his protest. Clay probably thought she blamed him for that. “That’s not to fault you, that’s just dealing with what is.”

  He didn’t know her, he thought. Not at all. Everything he’d thought he’d known, he didn’t. She was a stranger. “If you’d only told me—”

  “You would have done the honorable thing. Yes, I know.” She closed her eyes to keep the tears from falling. She didn’t even know if they were from anger or sorrow. Her eyes flew open again and she looked at him squarely, her hands clenched at her sides. “I didn’t want the honorable thing. I wanted the I-can’t-live-without-you-because-it-hurts-so-badit-rattles-my-teeth thing. There is no other reason to get married,” she insisted. “Sometimes, that isn’t enough, but it’s a hell of a foundation, and without that, you’ve got nothing.” She laughed shortly. “Believe me, I lived through it every day for eighteen years. I know. The second I turned eighteen, they got divorced and I left home.”

  The entire time they’d been together, she had barely mentioned her parents, but then, he hadn’t really talked about his family, either. “I never knew.”

  She shrugged, dismissing the past. It did no good to dwell on it. Nothing could be changed.

  “You never asked. You never wanted to know any real personal details about me,” she reminded him. “Another hint that we weren’t destined to experience the I-can’t-live-without-you thing.”

  He had a son, a five-year-old son. And she hadn’t told him. He felt as if someone had just kicked him in the gut. “I don’t believe it.”

  She sighed. She supposed she should have seen this coming. It was a typical male reaction. “Alex is yours, there’s never been anyone else.”

  “No, I’m not questioning that he’s mine.” She’d been a virgin
when they’d first made love. “I just can’t get past that you lied to me.” Suddenly, a great deal of anger surged within him, anger he didn’t know what to do with or how to channel. “I asked you if Alex was mine and you said no. You lied,” he accused. “I would have bet the world would end before I would ever hear you utter a lie about anything.”

  There was no way to measure how awful, how guilty she felt. But it wasn’t fair, she’d done it all for the best of reasons. To protect her son. “I’m sorry I’m not perfect.”

  He wanted to take her by her shoulders and shake her. She’d shattered his faith in her. She’d robbed him of something precious. “I didn’t want you to be perfect, just honest.” Suddenly he began backing away from her. He had to get away before things were said that couldn’t be taken back. “I’m sorry, but this is a little more than I can digest right now.”

  Before she could say anything, he yanked open the front door and stormed out, feeling angrier than he could ever remember.

  “I know where she’s staying.”

  Sitting at his desk, John Walken stiffened as the voice on the other end of the line finally said the words he’d been waiting to hear.

  He didn’t have to ask who it was. There was only one person on his mind these days, one person who stood between him and the resolution he’d been pinning all his hopes on.

  “Well, don’t just sit there talking to me, you know what you have to do,” he snapped.

  The woman had already proven that she was un-bribable. So it came down to this: Simplicity Computers was out of options. He was out of options. If the indictment was to go away, he needed to have Ilene O’Hara out of the picture. It wasn’t something he relished having done, but there was no other way.

  The other man replied with a graphic curse, then said, “It’s not that simple. She’s staying with Andrew Cavanaugh.” There was a pause, and when nothing was said, he added, “The whole family’s big in law enforcement.”

  The smooth, unruffled manner he was known for had completely deserted him. “So you make your move when the family’s not around. They work, don’t they?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Good, do it then.” He slammed down the receiver, breaking the connection.

  Frowning, Walken took a few deep breaths, then looked at the painting he had on the wall. It was an original and had set him back a fortune. Ordinarily the colors soothed him.

  But not today.

  Life would have been a great deal better if he’d never hired that woman, he thought angrily. But her death wasn’t going to be on his conscience. He’d given her a way out and she hadn’t taken it.

  This was on her head, not his.

  “Everything all right?”

  Caught off guard, Ilene swung around from the door that had just slammed. Clay’s father stood behind her. There was sympathy in his eyes.

  Tears threatened to fall from hers. With effort she raised her head, sealing her emotions inside.

  “Just peachy,” she answered. What was one more little lie in the face of the one she had committed herself to?

  Andrew drew closer, his voice low. Understanding. “You told him?”

  For the second time that morning, her mouth dropped open. She’d been so careful. Or thought she’d been. “How did you…?”

  “Alex told me.” Seeing her bewildered look, he was quick to explain. “He said he was five, not four.” His voice was kind, nonjudgmental, completely unlike his son’s. “Birth certificates aren’t all that hard to look up.”

  There was no use denying it. She felt like crumbling. Everywhere she looked, her life was caving in on her. “How long have you known?”

  “Just since last night.”

  She thought of the scene she’d just gone through. “Why didn’t you tell Clay?”

  The look on Andrew’s face told her that wasn’t the way he operated. Above all else he was fair. And she hadn’t been. “I wanted to talk to you first. Find out why you never said anything.”

  “Because I didn’t want him marrying me for the wrong reasons.”

  “Love is never the wrong reason.”

  She looked at him. That had been the whole point. She didn’t know if Clay loved her. “He never said anything about loving me.”

  He shook his head. There were times when, like George Bernard Shaw, his favorite playwright, he was utterly convinced that youth was wasted on the young. “Then take off your blinders, girl, because everything about that boy says he loves you. It’s right out there for everyone to see.”

  If it was, she hadn’t seen it. And she needed the words. “Well, not anymore. Not after this.”

  He knew Clay. Knew that his son had a tendency to blow up, then calm down again. To varying degrees, all his children did. They took after their mother that way. “Give him time, he’ll come round.” And then he smiled at her. “And thank you.”

  “Thank you?” she echoed, confused. “For what?”

  He smiled warmly. “For giving me a wonderful grandson. He’s a lot less of a handful than the five I got the first time around.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “The others have gone. You want to sit and talk?”

  “Not right now, but thank you,” she added quickly. It meant so much to have him accept her this way. “I’ve got to go upstairs and see if Alex is awake yet.” He’d woken up in the middle of the night, coughing and feeling generally miserable. A cold had materialized out of nowhere, and though she wasn’t really concerned, she just wanted to dote on her son for a while and make him feel better.

  He nodded. “I’ve already made up a tray for him. I can take it up if you want to be alone for a little while.”

  “No, that’s all right. I’ll bring it up to him. You’ve done more than enough for us already.”

  “It’s not a matter of doing enough,” he told her. “It’s a matter of family. Face it, you’re part of ours now. No matter what.”

  She beamed with gratitude. She knew what he was saying. No matter what turn her relationship with Clay took.

  The phone rang just then. Andrew glanced toward it. “Maybe that’s Clay, ready to admit that he was a jackass and that he’s sorry.”

  She laughed. “Don’t count on it.”

  It wasn’t Clay. She could tell by the look on Andrew’s face after he said hello. Wanting to give him some privacy, she started to leave the room, but the look on the older man’s face kept her from going.

  “You sure?” he asked not once but twice. “All right, I’ll be right down.”

  It was too early for the call to involve any of the people who had been here this morning. Still, she could see that whatever news he had received had completely unsettled Clay’s father.

  The moment he hung up, it was her turn to ask, “Are you all right?”

  Numb, afraid to let his mind get carried away, he measured his words out slowly, as if he was debating drawing each one back in again.

  “That was someone I used to work with. They found a homeless man dead in the park last night. He had one of those shopping carts next to him, filled with things he must have been collecting over the years.” He shook his head. “Poor bastard.” He’d come across scores of such twilight people during his years on the force, people so down on their luck they couldn’t climb back up again, their minds backing away from reality. “They went through it, trying to see if they could find out who he was. My ex-partner said they found a beaten-up wallet on the bottom of the cart. It had my wife’s driver’s license in it.”

  That meant that somehow she’d gotten out. Rose wasn’t lying in some watery grave all these years, she’d gotten out. He’d been right all along.

  “So what are you waiting for?” she asked. “Go down to the precinct.”

  “Right.” And then he stopped, the fog lifting from his brain. “I can’t leave you alone.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder, turning him toward the door. “I am a big girl, Andrew. I can be left alone for a little while. Besides, no one’s going to come,” s
he assured him. There hadn’t even been a mysterious phone call in the past two days. She was certain that Walken, if he was responsible for all this, had given up the futile attempts.

  “If Alex is awake by now, he’s probably bored out of his mind. I’ll go upstairs and keep him company. I’m not you, of course, but in a pinch, his mom’ll still do.” She urged him toward the front door. “Go, find out what this is all about. Maybe it’s the break you’ve been waiting for.”

  “Maybe,” he agreed. Andrew took his jacket out of the hall closet and slipped it on. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “I’ll still be here.” She thought of the scene between her and Clay. “At least for now.”

  Wanting to rush out, he still paused to reassure her. “You can stay for as long as you like.”

  That wouldn’t be right. “This is Clay’s house, I can’t just—”

  Andrew held up his hand, curtailing her flow of thought. “Clay moved out years ago. He came back because the guy he’d been subletting his apartment from wanted to move back in. We both knew it was only going to be for a little while, although our definitions of the word seem to differ.

  “What I’m saying is that he could be out of here in a week. There’s no reason for you to be leaving on his account. Besides, I still need to get better acquainted with my grandson.”

  Her protest was necessary, but only halfhearted. “But—”

  “I don’t want to hear another word about it,” he told her with finality as he opened the front door. “Don’t start giving me any grief, Ilene.” He winked before leaving. “So far, that’s what sets you apart from everyone else.”

  She took the tray that Andrew had fixed to her son and watched him eat. There was nothing wrong with the boy’s appetite, which was a good sign. As she took the tray away and set it off to the side, she peered at his face. His eyes didn’t look a hundred percent well.