“Your brothers and father. You are up to visitors, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Of course, why?” Charley asked.
“I can tell Mario upset you,” Esther answered warmly.
Little did she realize it was her comment about the blood match that had Charley’s head spinning.
“And there they are,” Esther said, noticing Richie, Jackson, and Chance coming down the hall from the elevators.
Charley was in a state, and her heart monitor showed it. The beep, beep, beep of the machine was getting faster.
“Let me give you something to relax,” Esther said.
“No, I’m fine,” Charley lied. Right now she didn’t want to be sedated; she wanted answers.
Esther gently touched her hand, then headed out to the nurses’ station, scowling at Mario, who was glaring at Richie.
Richie walked straight past him and into his daughter’s room. Jackson and Chance were behind him.
“Sugar,” Richie said, taking her hand and giving her a kiss. “Sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”
“I understand,” she answered, studying his face.
“I’m pleased to see you’re doing so well,” Richie said with true fatherly concern.
“Dad wanted to stop and see Mum, but we don’t think that’s a good idea,” Chance said to her pointedly.
“Too soon,” Jackson added, looking to his sister for support. The last thing they wanted was for Richie to hear about the autopsy.
They could hear a loud disagreement from the nurses’ station and saw Mario slam down a file and storm off in a huff.
Jackson closed the drapes to give them privacy. They were unaware that Mario was one of the thousands of healthcare professionals who’d just lost their savings due to the Financial Gaines Group’s collapse. The Hippocratic oath or Nightingale pledge notwithstanding, no one named Gaines was a popular patient with him.
“There’s something you need to know, sugar, and I wanted you to hear it from me,” Richie said, taking her hand. For some reason, his touch felt different to her.
Charley steeled herself. She had seen enough medical shows in her life that she knew a child would have at least one parent as a compatible blood type
“Yes?” she said with no emotion.
“You may wonder why you’ve not had access to any media,” Richie said. “No television, radio, computer.”
“I’m in ICU—” She faltered. She couldn’t call him Dad.
“It’s why you were kept here instead of recovery,” he explained.
Charley was more puzzled by the second.
“I’m not the man you’ve thought I was all these years,” he said.
I know! Charley thought.
“My financial empire has been a sham since before you were all born,” he stated.
“What?” she said, glancing to Jackson.
“Your brothers weren’t involved, just me. I’ve ruined a lot of people’s lives, sugar, and I’ll be going to prison. I am so, so sorry.”
Charley was stunned.
Richie continued on with details of his house arrest, the restrictions, and what this disaster would mean to them financially.
Charley didn’t hear a word. Her shock wasn’t about their whole lives being a charade.
You’re not my real father? she thought. Isn’t that something you’d like to tell me?
The heart monitor began to beep faster, faster.
“Nurse!” she called. “I need that sedative!”
“GIGI!” CLAIRE GIGGLED AS SHE RAN AT TOP SPEED TOWARD Marlena.
Marlena scooped up her granddaughter and hugged her tightly as Belle and Shawn caught up. Some of the sexiest women in the world now were grandmothers, and Marlena was proud to be one of them.
“You are soooo big!” Marlena laughed. “And just—”
“Adorable!” Claire giggled back, plucking the pink rose from behind Marlena’s ear. “I know!”
“And heavy,” Marlena said, putting her down next to her carry-on and teasingly groaning.
“You look fabulous, Mom,” Belle said, going into her mother’s arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed all you guys.” Marlena beamed.
John was right. When Marlena smiled, she had smiling eyes.
Shawn gave her a kiss on the cheek and took the handle of the carry-on. “How was the flight?”
“Short and sweet, thank God,” Marlena answered. “The man next to me was desperate for a cigarette from the moment he sat down.”
“French?”
“Could be.” She smiled.
Smiling. She was doing it again, and it felt so good. The last few years had been especially grueling for her. Not only had she had to watch the despair John had been going through, she was in a new country far from the family she adored. Since she’d come through the French side of the Geneva airport, she didn’t have to go through customs, so they headed straight for the exit.
“I need to make a quick stop, Mom,” Belle said. She needed to get to the little girls’ room and fast.
“I could use it too,” Marlena said.
“You go with them, Clairebear,” Shawn suggested. “I’ll get the car.”
Shawn headed to get their rental car as his three girls ducked into the ladies’ room. Belle grabbed the first stall and threw up immediately.
“You all right, baby girl?” Marlena asked through the stall.
“She does that a lot, GiGi,” Claire reported.
Belle flushed the toilet and opened the door. One look between mother and daughter, and Marlena knew.
“Does Shawn know?” Marlena beamed. She was thrilled at the thought of another grandchild.
“Know what?” Claire asked with her wide-eyed innocence.
“Hurry up, baby doll. We don’t want to keep Da waiting,” Belle said, dodging the question.
Claire scooted into the handicap stall with Marlena, and Belle splashed cold water on her face. When the two emerged, Belle caught her mother’s reflection in the mirror.
“I guess we have a lot to catch up on,” Marlena said as she helped Claire wash her hands.
“I guess we do,” Belle answered.
The airport was a madhouse. It was August, after all, and the girls dodged tourists from around the world as they made their way to the bright blue Peugeot convertible with Shawn in the driver’s seat.
“A convertible,” Marlena said, complimenting Shawn.
“We wanted you to see everything.” Shawn smiled. “Sit in the front.”
“I want to sit with Claire,” Marlena said as she climbed in the backseat. She also knew that Belle could get carsick, and if she was right, and her daughter was pregnant, the winding roads could be miserable.
“Here we go!” Shawn said, putting his foot to the floor. They sped out of the airport, and Claire thrust her hands in the air.
“Whee!” Claire laughed.
“Whee!” Marlena said, throwing her hands in the air and laughing with her.
The feeling of freedom was something she’d desperately missed.
The eighteen-mile drive along the Côte d’Azur to Monte Carlo was always spectacular. Marlena had done it before a number of times but didn’t mention that to Shawn as he pointed out sights along the way.
She was confused when they drove into the Place du Casino, and Shawn pulled up to the magnificent Hôtel de Paris.
“Shawn, this isn’t my hotel,” she said.
“It is, Mom,” Belle said. “Dad asked us to change your reservation. He wanted you—”
“To have the best,” Marlena said, completing the sentence.
John knew her very well. Even though she often protested extravagance, when it came to a hotel, there was nothing like it.
The palace hotel, built in 1864, was elegant and grand and sat next to Casino de Monte-Carlo, which was made internationally more popular by the James Bond 007 films. The domed lobby of the palace was gorgeous with its inlaid mar
ble floors and polished wood ceilings, plus the bronze statue of Louis XIV on horseback in its center.
“I need the ladies room.” Belle smiled halfheartedly.
The concierge directed her through the massive arched columns that lined the foyer, while Shawn took Claire’s hand and they escorted Marlena to check-in.
Marlena was drinking in the peace she felt in this exciting, glamorous environment. She handed her platinum credit card to the elegantly suited gentleman behind the desk.
“Marlena Evans,” she said.
“Your suite is not quite ready, Madame,” he said in French- accented English.
“Suite?” she said, inwardly pleased.
“It’s a junior suite, facing the Mediterranean.”
“Lovely, thank you.”
“Sounds like Dad,” Belle said, returning.
“Marlena?”
She heard a man call to her from the next check-in.
“Blake?”
Yes, indeed, Blake. The man checking in next to her was the one man she’d been avoiding: Blake Masters.
Le Côté Jardin was the lovely terrace restaurant overlooking the immaculately manicured gardens of the Hôtel de Paris. There were three distinctively different dining rooms, but this was the best spot for lunch with a nearly four-year-old.
Marlena sat at the skirted table with her fidgety granddaughter on one side and Belle on the other. Shawn was next to Claire, which put Blake directly across from Marlena.
Shawn, ever the gentleman, had invited Blake to join them. She’d called him by his first name, so they assumed he was her colleague. Little did they know, it was an awkward situation.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Blake said to Marlena as perfect medium-rare hamburgers were served.
“Likewise,” she offered. “Shawn asked me to consult with a friend of theirs.”
“Charley Gaines,” Shawn said. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with all that’s been going on.”
“Who isn’t?” Blake said.
“Shawn’s the one who was on the scene of the accident,” Belle said.
“Wow,” Blake said.
“It’s how I know Charley,” Shawn told him. “And she’s obviously having a hard time. I asked my mother-in-law to talk with her. There’s no better psychiatrist than Marlena.”
“I’m sure.” Blake smiled.
Marlena looked away, which only Belle noticed.
“Pommes frites!” Claire squealed as she popped several in her mouth. “Yum.”
“We never have them when we’re out at sea, so she’s all over them when we’re in port,” Shawn said to Blake.
He could see Blake’s confusion, so he went on to describe the voyage he and Belle had been taking, about John’s generosity, and the last six months of the trip that Shawn had been dreaming about since they left the United States.
Marlena caught Belle’s expression as she shrugged lightly.
It must be about the timing, Marlena thought. Belle doesn’t want to ruin Shawn’s dream.
“And what’s the dream?” Blake asked.
“Deep sea fishing in Trinidad.” Shawn beamed.
Belle began to turn green.
“Terrific there; I’ve done it,” Blake said with enthusiasm. “And oysters?” He continued, “they like to say they grow on trees there. You like oysters, Claire?”
“Yum!” Claire declared. “I want oysters!”
As if on cue, Belle bolted from the table.
“Olivia Gaines would have probably loved this,” Belle commented as they entered Marlena’s suite, which, as to be expected, was beautiful.
Facing the Mediterranean, it had deep mahogany empire furniture accented by the finest fabrics in shades of yellow.
The bellman opened the drapes and doors to the terrace, and Claire ran right to the edge.
“Hey, hey,” Shawn cautioned as he went right after her.
“Shawn’s become a very good man, sweetheart,” Marlena said to her daughter.
“The best, Mom,” Belle agreed. “That’s why I so don’t want to disappoint him.”
“He loves kids.”
“I know. But you heard him at lunch. This trip was his dream, and my throwing up all over the place is a nightmare. And we’d have to forget that trip to Trinidad because of the timing.” Belle was rambling a bit, and Marlena knew it.
“This is about timing?” Marlena asked, suspecting different.
“Gonna getcha.” Shawn laughed, chasing Claire back into the room.
“Timing,” Belle said quietly.
“Whee!” Claire squealed as she jumped on the king-size bed, her dad jumping on top of her and tickling her madly. A tickle fight ensued. Then Shawn grabbed Claire’s hands and slyly asked her, “Mommy?”
Before Belle knew it, they jumped from the bed and pulled her onto it with them. She melted into the fun and put her queasiness aside, thoroughly enjoying her family.
The phone rang.
“Hello?” Marlena said.
“How’s your suite?” Blake joked.
“Lovely,” Marlena answered.
“I hear the kids are still there,” he said.
“For a while.”
“If you’re free later, we could have dinner. Le Louis XV is an Alain Ducasse restaurant,” he said.
He knows his chefs? Marlena thought.
“Cooking’s a hobby,” he added.
Oh, right, he reads minds.
To her surprise, the other line rang.
“Could you hold on a minute?” Marlena said.
“I could hold on two,” he said with a smile in his voice as she clicked over.
“Marlena Evans,” she answered.
“Doc, how’s the hotel?”
It was John.
“Gorgeous, thank you so much,” she said, fully aware of the blinking light on the other line. “I miss you.”
“I’m fine, really,” John said.
He couldn’t say I miss you too? she thought.
“Doc, you there?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Say hi to the kids for me,” he said. “Tell ’em I love them.”
“Will do,” she said as she heard him hang up.
John sat with his phone in his hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please get ready for takeoff,” came over the speakers. “And please turn off all electronic devices.”
John buckled his seat belt as a slim, statuesque flight attendant passed through the first-class cabin.
“Are you sure you are all right with this?” the female voice with a Dutch accent in the seat next to him asked, as her slender hand touched John’s.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” he answered.
“I guess we will,” said Tara, patting his hand and turning to look out the window.
JENNIFER WAS PROOFING THE GALLEYS FOR THE SPECTATOR’S print edition at her computer when Jack came bounding in, carrying something behind his back.
“Jen!” he called as he leaped to the mezzanine level of the house, where she had her desk.
“Jack!” she wailed as he spun her around to face him. “I’ve told you not to do that!”
“Can’t help it, you hot mama, sexy lady, sensational journalist. Because of you,” he said, kissing her, “and Abby”—he kissed her again—“we have quadrupled sales of the Spectator in two days!” He plopped a bottle of Cristal next to her computer, pulled her out of her chair, and planted the biggest, wettest kiss on her that she’d had in ages.
“Honey, that’s fantastic,” she beamed, hugging him.
“We’re not going to lose the house,” he exalted. “Not gonna lose it, never gonna lose it…” He swung her around, and they started dancing around the room Fred-and-Ginger style.
Jennifer couldn’t help but laugh at his joy, but still said, “Jack! Jack, stop it.”
He gave her one last twirl and sank into a chair.
“I know. Isn’t it unbelievable?”
“Yeah…”
/> “But?” he said.
“Were we really going to lose the house?” she asked weakly.
Jack hadn’t said a word. He was a man with a tremendous sense of pride, and once upon a time, he’d been her unemployed househusband and had not handled it well.
“I didn’t want you to know, Jen,” Jack answered. “We’ve been uprooted so much, and I know how you love it here. But yeah, we moved here at the top of the market, and with the economy and the state of the newspaper business and—well, it was almost a goner.”
Jennifer let out a huge sigh of relief, tinged with annoyance. They had indeed had a rocky path stemming back to their times in Salem, once having to go on the run from police and then living in Africa for a while. The denizens of Salem all had remarkable stories.
“I love you, Jack.” She beamed. “But don’t ever keep something like that from me again!” she added, hitting him lightly.
“Ow!” He feigned injury, rubbing his arm. “You may have to kiss that—and a few other things.”
Jennifer hit him again. “Tonight, that,” she said, indicating toward the champagne. “Then it’s all about you,” she added seductively.
The first time they’d ever made love was after Jack had saved Jennifer’s life. Now she, with their daughter, Abby, had saved his.
“Now all we have to do is keep the scoops coming,” he said ruefully.
“We know what that means,” she said, picking up her cell and dialing. “Abby?” Jennifer said.
“Mom, hi, I was just about to call you,” Abby said. She was sunbathing in an OMG bikini and looking through binoculars as she spoke.
“Shawn and Belle are spending the day with Marlena, so Chels and I are on the boat. She wanted to avoid being hounded, and I had a hunch, so…” She couldn’t finish her sentence.
“Your dad’s with me, wait,” Jennifer said as she put Abby on speakerphone.
“We all know the funeral’s the day after tomorrow,” Abby said.
“Just not the final location.”
“St. Nicholas Cathedral,” Abby said with conviction.
“Are you 100 percent positive sure?” Jack asked. “Isn’t Richard Gaines Episcopalian?”
“I’m looking at Jackson Gaines right now, Dad, and he’s in the back of the cathedral with the priest. They’re shaking hands… and…yes, he’s saying it’s at five p.m.” Abby had long ago learned the value of reading lips.
A Secret in Salem Page 11
