by Jackie Braun
“I’m not who you think I am, Seth,” she blurted out at last.
Both of his eyebrows shot up then. “What do you mean? Why do you say that?”
“I’m not a nice person.” Harsh laughter burned her throat after she issued that understatement. She had his attention, though. He settled into the seat opposite hers and regarded her soberly.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I figured you deserved to know exactly who it is that you’ve become involved with before things progressed any further,” she said.
“If you’re referring to the other night, that probably was a mistake.” Seth said the words, wanting them to be true. The alternative was just too perplexing.
But Audra angled up her chin.
“Not for me,” she said softly. And then she staggered him by adding, “I think I’m falling in love with you, Seth.”
Seth knew something was happening between them, but just as he had run away from it the night before, he wouldn’t accept it. He couldn’t. “You can’t fall in love with me, Audra. I can’t…I can’t—”
She stopped his painful words by laying her fingers against his lips.
“I don’t expect you to feel the same way. In fact, after I say everything I’ve come here to tell you, I won’t blame you in the least if you never want to see me again. But I want to be honest. In fact, I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”
Audra took a deep breath as she regarded the tight line of Seth’s mouth. So much for her decision to steer clear of men. She had collided head-on with this one and the feelings she had for him left her alternately scared to death and filled with an outrageous amount of hope that she might actually find that elusive happily ever after she hadn’t realized she’d been seeking. But she had been seeking it. For more than a decade.
“Trillium is close-knit and generally closemouthed when it comes to talking to outsiders, but if you stay here long enough you’ll hear things. I guess I’d rather you heard them straight from me.”
He gave a jerky nod. “Go on.”
“Before I do that I need you to believe that even though I haven’t always done the right thing, I want to be a good person now.”
“It takes more than wanting,” he replied.
“I know it does. I think I realized that even before Henry died.”
“Henry?”
Why was it, she wondered, that his tone seemed to hold more of a challenge than a question? She took another fortifying breath. Here we go, she decided.
“Henry was my husband.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said stiffly. The coffeemaker belched noisily as it finished its task and Seth stood to retrieve two mugs from one of the cupboards. His back was to her when he said, “How long ago did he die?”
Audra almost didn’t want to answer. The truth would make her seem either utterly uncaring or on the rebound, and she didn’t feel she was either. Her relationship with Henry had been more platonic than passionate. Both of them had understood and accepted that before exchanging their vows. They had been genuinely fond of one another, even if they had never fallen in love.
She explained some of that to Seth after saying, “It’s been about seven months now. He was quite a bit older than I am. Our relationship was not exactly the fairy tale, but we liked and respected one another.”
He returned to the table with their coffee, setting one mug in front of her.
For some reason he didn’t seem surprised. She supposed since she’d given him a different last name than Conlan, he must have concluded she’d been married at some point.
“So you liked and respected him. I thought most people married because they were in love.”
Audra moistened her lips and said softly, “I thought I married for love the first time.”
“The first time?” Again the words seemed a challenge, as if he were expecting her to deny something.
She had to swallow a couple of times, but she wasn’t going to deny anything. “Yes. I was married three times, actually. In case you’re keeping score, that makes me twice divorced and once widowed.”
“Quite a résumé.”
“It’s nothing I’m proud of.”
She held his gaze, trying to divine his reaction. Did he think she was mercenary and merely manipulative? He would make a master poker player, she decided. His expression gave nothing away.
“Are you going to say anything?”
“What should I say?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Not for the first time, she missed smoking. At least holding a cigarette would have given her something to occupy her hands. Substituting caffeine for nicotine, she picked up her coffee cup and thought back on the men and the relationships that had shaped her life.
Her downward spiral, she supposed, had started with the lecherous junior high teacher. That event had seemed to set the tone for all her dealings with the opposite sex, from high school through her ill-fated string of marriages. But Audra was an adult now, new and improved. She was taking responsibility for every misstep and stumble she’d made during the intervening years.
“Tell me about your first husband,” Seth said at last.
“I was barely into my twenties when we met, and I was pretty naive even though I thought I knew everything.” She laughed ruefully. How arrogant she’d been and how utterly out of her league. “I’d been in California about a year, which was long enough to figure out that I didn’t have enough money or talent to stay in Hollywood long.”
“You mentioned once that you’d wanted to be an actress,” he said. “Was he in the business?”
“Yes. A producer. I met him on an audition. I didn’t get the part, but he asked me out to dinner afterward. He had twenty years on me, but he was handsome, charismatic, powerful. I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world when he asked me to marry him.”
And since Seth eventually would figure it all out, she added, “His name is Reed Howard. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”
“I’ve heard of him.”
She swallowed hard, waiting for him to say he knew who she was, but instead he asked, “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Despite her resolution to be honest, embarrassment had her answering with an evasion. “Our lifestyles didn’t mix well.”
“Irreconcilable differences?”
“That was the reason I listed on the divorce petition, yes. But there was a little more to it than that.” Much more, actually, and a good deal of it was sordid. She cleared her throat and told him what she’d never told another soul. “He wanted to have a wife and a girlfriend…at the same time.”
“Ah, he cheated on you.”
“Yes. Well, actually, he wanted me to, um, cheat with him, if you know what I mean.”
She felt the humiliation burning hot in her cheeks, saw the comprehension dawn in his gaze, and yet she didn’t look away.
“Ah,” Seth said again. “Did you?”
“No! I was no saint, but I…no, I didn’t. When I filed for divorce he seemed genuinely surprised. I guess he’d thought I would accept the arrangement, no questions asked.”
It still shamed her that somehow she must have given Reed that impression. Audra might have seemed like the quintessential party girl to many in Hollywood, flaunting her sexuality, but she’d remained decidedly provincial when it came to certain matters. What went on in the bedroom was one of them, and for that she could be thankful now. It meant one less awful thing to confess to the man sitting across from her. The man whose respect she suddenly wanted as badly as she wanted his love.
“And then you married again.”
“A year later, yes.” She shook her head, pained by the memories and yet not willing to brush them aside. The past needed to be confronted before it could be laid to rest. “I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought I’d grown up, wised up after husband number one.
“I didn’t love him. I think I knew that even before he asked me
to marry him, but there didn’t seem to be any relationships like my mom and dad’s in Hollywood. And he seemed to want to help me…improve.”
“Improve?”
Audra moistened her lips. “I had a reputation for being wild. He had a lot of suggestions about how I should behave in different social situations. How I should dress, wear my hair, things like that. I really appreciated his advice while we were dating.”
“And after you married?”
“It became less like advice and more like constant criticism. Camden had a real way with words,” she said, recalling the many comments that had hacked away at her already well-bludgeoned self-esteem. One side of her mouth lifted into a sardonic smile. “I guess you could say I rebelled. I’ve always excelled at that.”
“And so you divorced.”
“Yes, shortly before our second wedding anniversary.”
“And then you married husband number three?”
Seth asked the question even though he knew perfectly well the chronological order of things. He wondered if she would gloss over her relationship with Trent Kane, maybe not mention the actor at all or that fateful fatal car wreck he’d had after leaving Audra’s party and while driving her car.
“No.” She winced. “God, my life is going to sound like a really bad made-for-TV movie, but the truth is that I became involved with someone else, someone with an addiction to alcohol and drugs.”
“Isn’t that a little bit like going from the frying pan into the fire?”
“Absolutely. I can see that now. I can see how self-destructive I’d become. Hindsight,” she murmured.
“Why didn’t you leave him? No need for a divorce since you weren’t married. You could have just walked away.”
“I thought about it. A lot. But he could be sweet and thoughtful when he wasn’t using, and he kept promising to quit. He told me he needed me and so I stayed. I thought I could help him. I wanted to do something right for a change. I was so tired of failing.”
Seth steeled his heart to the pity that was threatening to well. He knew exactly how this chapter of her life ended.
“Did you try to get him checked into a residential rehab center or hooked up with one of those twelve-step outpatient programs? Is that how you tried to help him?”
The old animosity flared so hot that he wondered how he managed to keep his expression neutral, his tone from turning fierce.
“No. He died in a car accident.” She had looked away when she first said it, but she faced him now and added succinctly, “His name was Trent Kane, the actor. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
Seth nodded. Oh, yes, he’d heard of Trent Kane. But he said nothing. Instead he waited, willing her to give voice to the rest of it.
“He’d been at a party at a home I owned near Big Sur,” she said at last.
“Not the smartest thing to invite a known alcoholic and drug user to a party, is it?”
“It wasn’t that kind of party,” Audra replied. “It was for children. I throw one every year to raise money for a charity that specializes in sexually abused and exploited kids. A lot of folks from Hollywood come out for it, but children are there, too, so I’ve never allowed any drinking, and Trent knew I didn’t allow drugs in my home.”
“What?” He was truly surprised, but she misunderstood the reason.
“I made enough stupid choices without any help from illegal substances,” she replied.
“No. I meant the party.”
“Oh. I guess it was my way of proving to myself that my soul hadn’t turned completely black. A friend of mine sits on the board of a philanthropic foundation. She got me hooked up with Children’s Haven about half a dozen years ago. I’ve kept my association with it and the other charities I support pretty quiet, for obvious reasons.”
Seth turned her words over in his mind, seeking to discredit them. He’d never heard this version of events. The police report said Trent Kane had been at a party at Audra Conlan Howard Stover’s house, the couple had argued, and Kane had left in her car drunk and high. Barely two miles from her home he’d collided head-on with the minivan on Route 1, and both vehicles had gone over the guardrail.
Seth had drawn his own conclusions from the police report, reading between the lines of what was written. Audra was a celebrity and a wealthy woman besides. Seth was sure she’d received favorable treatment. He’d seen it so many times living in Los Angeles and working for the newspaper.
Somehow he kept his tone even when he said, “I read that Trent Kane’s blood-alcohol level was 2.3 and that a toxicology report found heroin and a prescription painkiller at the time of the accident. I thought you said that kind of stuff wasn’t allowed at the party.”
“It wasn’t. Trent promised me he would stay sober, but then I caught him adding vodka to his drinks. I decided not to make an issue of it while the other guests were still there, but when they left I confronted him. We argued because by that point it was obvious he’d been doing much more than just drinking vodka.”
His hands curled into fists. “And yet you let him drive away,” he accused softly.
“No. I took away his keys, hid them in a potted plant. He tore apart my house looking for them. I’d never seen him so angry. He was swearing, yelling, throwing things.”
Lost in memory, she touched the crescent-shaped scar on her temple. The scar Seth had once kissed. Is that how she’d come by it?
“And so you gave him your car keys?” Seth asked. This is what he’d always believed.
But Audra was shaking her head. “He found my purse. He was out the door before I could stop him. And then he was…he was dead.”
“Three other people died that day.”
“A family,” she said, and her next words shocked him. “John and Elaine Woods and their teenage daughter, LeeAnn.”
“You know their names?”
He’d wanted to believe she wouldn’t have paid close attention or that once she’d learned their names she wouldn’t care enough to remember them two years later. But she did. In fact, she said, “I’ll never forget them. I called the police after Trent left, but by the time they caught up with him it was already too late.”
Over the buzzing in Seth’s ears he heard her say, “And after that I got married again. To someone older, safer. Henry Dayton Winfield the Third.” She straightened in her seat. “So, do you know who I am, Seth?”
Once upon a time he’d been absolutely certain, but now he shook his head. “Tell me,” he said.
“I’m Audra Conlan Howard Stover Winfield.”
After she said it, Seth reached for the scarf knotted around her neck and tugged it free, revealing the muted ring of bruises.
“That’s right,” she said, her laughter ripe with self-loathing. “That was me who was nearly strangled to death by my stepson last month. My story just keeps getting more sordid, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t reply. Instead he placed one of his hands on her neck, covering the marks with his fingers. There had been a time right after the accident when he’d thought he might be capable of killing her, he’d been that angry and grief-stricken. Then he had settled on exacting retribution one unflattering and exploitative photograph at a time. Along the way, even through the red haze of his emotions, he’d found himself wanting to forgive her and coming perilously close since his arrival on Trillium. Now, he couldn’t think clearly.
“I told you I’m not a good person,” she whispered when he dropped his hands and just continued to stare at her.
Indeed she had, at the very start of their conversation, and then, as if to underscore the point, she had bared every last private detail of her life. Details that Deke Welling was eagerly waiting to share with the rest of the world in his tell-all book. But Seth had been reluctant to pass them on since he arrived in Michigan. And now, he knew he couldn’t fulfill his promise to Deke.
She took another sip of the coffee, which had to have grown cold by now. Her voice was stronger when she said, “I’ve made a lot of m
istakes in my life, but I don’t consider what has gone on between us to be among them. After everything I’ve told you today, though, I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me again. I…I come with a lot of baggage.”
She stood and was out the door before Seth could wonder if he was traveling any lighter.
Seth spent the rest of the morning and most of the day dissecting Audra’s confession. Even though he wanted to, he didn’t trust the part of him that believed her version of the accident, and so he picked up the telephone and made some inquiries. Afterward, he felt flummoxed all over again.
A police detective whom Seth knew pretty well from his days at the Times confirmed that the party she had hosted had been to raise money for abused and exploited children, although Audra had insisted at the time that the charity and her association with it not be named to protect it from negative publicity.
The rest of her story about the accident seemed to check out, too. She had hidden Kane’s car keys and tried to stop him from taking her vehicle, the detective told him, receiving a slight concussion for her efforts. After Kane had sped away, she’d called the police to report that he was driving while impaired. He hadn’t accepted the story she’d told the police at the time. Was there more she could have done to prevent Kane from leaving? Seth was no longer so sure.
The detective also gave Seth some interesting news that had all of Los Angeles buzzing. It seemed Audra’s attorney had asked that the charges against her stepson be dismissed as long as he attended anger management classes and made a hefty donation to the American Heart Association in his late father’s name. Another source told Seth that Audra had rolled the bulk of Henry’s assets into trust funds for his grandchildren and an endowment fund for the Harvard School of Business. Provisions also had been made for the staff at the Brentwood estate, which had been deeded over to her driver.
Thoughtless, manipulative, greedy, egocentric—all of the adjectives Seth once had thought described her to a tee no longer seemed to fit. Indeed, they hadn’t fit for quite some time, although he’d been too stubborn to admit it.
He slid the CD into his laptop and went through the photographs he’d taken during the past few weeks, printing out a couple dozen. Then he selected and printed out some of the shots he’d snapped of her back in California. Audra’s transformation was unmistakable and Seth had documented it in full color. He didn’t miss the irony since he had once offered to do just that. Now, as he studied the images he’d spread out over the kitchen table, he let the pictures tell the story. And they did.
