DeBeers 02 Wicked Forest

by V. C. Andrews

  And what would such a star,' do to my mother, whose mental problems had once put her in my father's clinic? These were very fragile people who could stand no added weight. What good would I have brought to their lives? Should I be selfish and tell Thatcher I didn't care about any of that? Should I be like his mother and insist on my own pleasure and satisfaction first?

  "This isn't fair," I muttered. "None of this is fair, especially if it's true. Why do we have to suffer for their indiscretions, their weaknesses?"

  "Sometimes there is a lot of wisdom in the old biblical sayings... the sins of the parents lie on the heads of their children," Thatcher said.

  Now he was the one gazing at a commercial jet lifting toward the horizon and another world, somewhere far away from all our pasts.

  "Wish you were on that?" I countered. He smiled.

  "Very often, yes-- but," he said, drawing closer, "only if you were sitting beside me."

  "Maybe we'd all be better off if we didn't have the ability to dream." I said.

  "Then where would you psychiatrists bier Thatcher kidded,

  I laughed, and he reached out to take my shoulders firmly. For a moment we looked into each other's eyes.

  No matter what the truth is or what obstacles are placed in our way, we'll be together eventually. Willow. I swear," he said with such confidence and determination, he took my breath away. He brought his lips to mine. We kissed softly at first, then hard and long, as if we both wanted it to last forever and ever. I couldn't stifle a moan of pleasure, and he let his lips glide over my cheeks and around again to my lips.

  When we stopped kissing, he put his arms around me and held me against his chest. We stood there silently for a long moment. I could feel his heart pounding and I'm sure he could feel mine.

  "I've got to get to work," he said in a tight, cracking voice.

  When I looked up at him. I saw his eyes were glossed over with tears.

  "Okay."

  "I'll see you every moment I can. For a little while, we'll be discreet about it. but I'll be working on this as much as I can, and we'll get to the bottom of it and to the solution as quickly as possible," he promised. "And without hurting anyone, if we can. Is that all right?"

  "Yes," I said, not fully realizing what it was that I was agreeing to.

  "When I saw you from the loggia before, it was as if the clouds had been blown away, as if sunshine had returned. and I knew why they call this Jaya del Mar. the Jewel of the Sea. You're the jewel as far as I'm concerned. Willow."

  I smiled at him through my own glassy eyes now. He started back toward the path, then turned.

  "You're still going ahead with all the legal motions to enable Grace to keep the property?"

  "Yes. I'm seeing the accountant today and signing whatever has to be signed."

  "Just be sure it's the right thing for them. Willow." "It is," I said firmly.

  He nodded. "I'll speak to you later."

  "In the darkness. You'll see me only in the darkness," I whispered to myself, and watched him hum; along until he was gone.

  Then I turned and, with my head down, walked back along the beach. The sound of a tern swooping down on an unsuspecting fish drew my attention back to the sea. I watched and then I took a deep breath. As I started to walk again, something caused me to look off to my left.

  At first, there was nothing to see-- small dunes, bushes, a cloud of sand flies circling madly over something- on the sand-- but then, as if he

  materialized out of the air itself. Linden's body took form behind a bush where he sat like Buddha staring out at the sea.

  He made no effort to attract my attention, nor did he call out to me.

  How long had he been there? What had he heard?

  My first thought was to call to him, to go to him, but I hesitated, Maybe it was better to pretend I didn't see him just now. Maybe it was better to pretend he was as invisible to me as I apparently was to him.

  At least for now, I thought.

  I turned and started back toward the beach house. There was no one on the loggia of the main house anymore, except for some servants cleaning up after the Eatons and their guests. They looked my way, but just as they were supposed to behave, they seemed to see no evil, hear no evil. Servants were taught to be invisible here.

  Maybe we were all invisible here.

  Daddy, I thought. how 1 need you now. If you're inside me, I've got to find away to touch you and hear your wisdom.

  There was nothing more fearful than the thought that he was drifting away with every passing hour, every passing minute. Maybe the truth was that the dead lose interest in the living and not, as everyone thought, the other way around. We stop visiting graveyards and looking at tombstones after a while, don't we? We put away our family albums. We forget the sounds of voices we once loved.

  And then what?

  If we don't find love, we find we're alone. That's where Linden was.

  And my mother.

  And maybe me.

  2

  A Lien Against the Property

  .

  Later that morning I drove into Palm Beach

  proper to meet with Leo Ross, my mother's

  accountant. He had an office an Via Encantada in a pearl-white stucco building that looked mare like a Spanish hacienda than a business structure. It glistened in the sunlight as if it were really covered in pearls.

  The accounting offices themselves were plush with a rather large lobby that had a marble floor, cream marble tables, expensive-looking settees and chairs, and prints of some of the portrait paintings of famous Palm Beach residents done by Ralph Cowan. Whether the implication was that these people used Leo Ross's firm or merely that people of this stature used it. I didn't know, but it had an impressive effect.

  From what I could see, there were nearly a half dozen CPAs working in the office, any one of whom could have been assigned to us. I imagine. However, perhaps because my attorney back in South Carolina, Mr. Bassinger, had set all this up. Leo Ross himself came out to greet me. He was a man about five feet eight inches tall with thinning gray-blond hair. Very fair-skinned, he had patches of freckles aver his forehead and along the crests of his cheeks. His eyes were the faded blue of stonewashed jeans and his lips were so orange, they looked tinted. I imagined him to be well into his early sixties.

  He extended his soft, well-manicured, strawberry-twirl-skinned hand to me and held on to mine as he introduced himself and spoke highly of Mr, Bassinger.

  "I had the occasion to call upon his services once on behalf of a client of mine," he explained. "Small world, wouldn't you say?"

  His polished smile was highlighted by his ivory teeth. I had the funny idea that in a previous life, he must have been an ice cream cone, cool, refreshing, and full of cherry vanilla.

  "Yes, yes, it is." I agreed. He ushered me back through the wide corridor to his private office. It looked immaculate, almost untouched and unused. Fresh flowers adorned the coffee table in front of the soft leather settee and the right corner of his desk as well. In this office was hung a portrait of himself with his standard poodle. Awards and plaques from various charitable organizations were arranged in the shape of an X on the wall to the right of his large, black-marble-topped desk. A set of what looked like gold-plated golf clubs in a rich leather bag stood against one wall.

  I saw immediately that the files for Jaya del Mar were spread over the coffee table and a chair had been brought around for him to sit facing the settee and me while we discussed the situation.

  "Please," he said, indicating the settee. "Would you like something to drink? Bottled water, coffee, tea, juice, soda... whatever."

  "Nothing, thank you." He looked surprised and waited for me to sit before seating himself For a moment he stared at me with a wide, almost incredulous grin that made me a bit uncomfortable,

  "I was expecting Grace to accompany you." he said. was looking forward to seeing her. It's been some time."

  "She's not up to it just yet,"
I said. hoping I wouldn't have to go into a long explanation about Linden's condition,

  "I suppose not. She has had a very tough time. very tough time. Well then. I'll tell you what I know. I know that you have a trust that will generate a fixed amount of income. and you have asked Mr. Bassinger to arrange for me to help you organize that income so you can cover all the basic expenses of Joya del Mar. Your funds will cover that monthly nut, as we say," he continued, flashing his smile.

  "Good," I said, releasing the air I had trapped inside me out of fear I would learn my plan was impossible and all I had promised would be another broken rainbow for my mother and Linden,

  "However, I don't know if you have been made aware of a sizable lien against the proper[y."

  "A lien?"

  Little jolts of electric fear surged under my breasts.

  "A lien is a legal maneuver a creditor will make to force you to pay what you owe him. In this case. your grandmother's third husband. Kirby Scott, pledged the property against a line of credit at the bank, which he then defaulted upon."

  "Oh. What does that mean exactly?" I asked. My experience with financial matters was very limited. In fact, in the weeks following my father's death. I had learned more than I knew my whole life.

  "It means that your mother cannot sell the property without first paving off this debt. and something has to be paid toward it on a regular basis."

  "How much are we talking about?" I asked, and held my breath.

  He closed and opened his eyes, indicating that it was going to be a painful response.

  "A quarter of a million dollars." he replied. "And then there is the accumulating interest, of course. It complicates matters."

  "What did he do with this money?" I asked, wondering if there was a way to get it back.

  "Your guess is as good as mine. I'm afraid. Most likely lost it in Las Vegas or Monte Carlo. I'm sorry to give you this news."

  "Does my mother know?"

  "I send her reports, but we've never discussed it."

  "Can I afford to pay it off and still generate enough income to take care of our needs?"

  He smiled. I guessed I was asking the right question.

  "Well, not with the full army of servants now employed. You can hold on to the landscaper, but I'm afraid not all of the household servants, the chef. the chauffeur."

  "I understand," I said.

  "When the rental income stops, you will have to create a sensible budget, until Grace sells the property, that is. In the meantime. I have all your accounts arranged. generating as much interest income as we can without experiencing too much risk. I understand you're going to attend college soon."

  "Yes."

  He sat back, looking- like a disapproving uncle now.

  It wouldn't have been a bad idea to hold on to the Eatons," he said after a moment. "I still might be able to negotiate something with them."

  "No," I said firmly.

  "It's a big property for just you. Grace. and Linden," he insisted. "I would not be fulfilling my obligation to you, as well as to Mr. Bassinger. if I did not point all this out to you as clearly as I can."

  "It's just as big for the .Eatons."

  "Yes, but the rent is no burden for them, nor are the servants and the maintenance. We might be able to get them to come up on a purchase price offer."

  "I'd rather the bank took it over." I said dryly. He shrugged.

  "If it went into foreclosure. the Eatons, or any of a few dozen other families, could pounce on it and get it for even less, especially if you are unable to keep it up and it degenerates in any way."

  "Buzzards with gold beaks," I muttered, and his eyes widened, his lips stretching into an amused smile,

  "Well, I've never heard them referred to in quite that manner. but..." He left the rest of his words hanging. Nothing was as well hidden as a thought unspoken.

  I sat back on the settee and thought about all he had told me.

  "You've been the accountant for the

  Montgomery family for some time now, haven't your

  "Oh. yes. I was Winston Montgomery's accountant for years and years before he died. I attended his wedding to Jackie Lee Houston, One of the few business associates he invited," he added proudly.

  "You must have known Kirby Scott personally, then." He nodded.

  It isn't something I admit with any pride, however. I had to sit behind this desk and watch him chop-- not chip-- chop away Winston Montgomery's fortune. I tried warning Jackie Lee. but Kirby Scott had her hypnotized and she seemed incapable of taking the actions that would help her, protect her and her daughter, at least until Linden was born. By then it was too late. I'm afraid. There were a number of liens against Jaya del Mar back then, and not just the bank's, Kirby Scott was a piece of work, a true oldfashioned scoundrel,"

  "How do you mean. old-fashioned?"

  "Well, he was as handsome and debonair as any man I've known here in Palm Beach, a cultured con man, if you will. A snake charmer in a tuxedo, Jackie Lee Houston Montgomery was not the first woman to fall for his winning smile and his promises. and I'm sure not the last."

  "I suppose that sort of gossip makes its way into these fine offices as well as the rest of Palm Beach," I said, fishing for more information.

  "Well, maybe not into the offices as much as the local watering holes, which we all frequent from time to time. Have to keep up appearances you know," he quickly added. Gossip and innuendo were just as nasty in the world of the wealthy as anywhere else in America, or anyplace, for that matter, even if they were planted in a bed of diamonds and watered with champagne.

  "Was there any other Palm Beach family Kirby Scott messed up?" I asked.

  He studied me a moment, obviously deciding whether or not to spread a story.

  "I'm sure there are other victims, as I said. but I don't know anything specific. I guess if you like that sort of gossip, you're in the right part of the country."

  "Any part of the country," I countered, and he laughed. 'Do you know where Kirby Scott is now?"

  He shrugged.

  "I've heard rumors. One of my clients claimed to have seen him at the George V in Paris last year with a woman so bedecked in furs hanging on his arm that my client thought she was a fur trader from Alaska-- not to mention the diamonds she had strung around her neck, sparkling on her fingers, and dangling from her ears." He shook his head, "How that man manages to pluck a fresh fish with such consistency is truly amazing. If he had put his talents to legitimate use, why he might today be the CEO of a major corporation."

  "Sounds like he is," I said. "The Kirby Corporation," Mr. Ross laughed harder,

  "Well, there were darn few here who didn't invite him to their house parties and events in those days. Why, he even socialized with the Eatons. as I recall. In fact, now that I think of it. I'm sure it was Kirby who put it into Asher and Bunny Eaton's minds to consider renting Java del Mar from the

  Montgomerys. If you can say_ he had a pang of conscience, I suppose that was it."

  "What do you mean?" I asked with bated breath. Did he know of Bunny Eaton's affair? Was that what he meant?

  "Realizing he would soon bankrupt the Montgomery's, he at least instigated the rental of their property so they wouldn't be chased off. Sort of like someone who beat you up and robbed you and then arranged for your hospitalization."

  "Sounds like we're giving him too much credit for a conscience." I said. "Mary-be he was simply trying to ensure a flow of income to exploit."

  "Maybe. Probably so." He nodded, thoughtful for a moment, then snapped back to attention. "Well, here are the documents for you to peruse and sign," he said. He rose, just want to check on one thing and then I'll return to answer any questions you might have."

  "Thank you," I said, and began reading.

  When he came back. I had a few questions about some of the investments; then I thanked Mr. Ross and left. Before returning to Joya del Mar. I decided to do a little shopping and pick up some toiletries at Saks. I was
also searching for what Amou used to call a piece of luz do sol, a piece of sunshine, some pretty thing that could bring joy and brightness into a gray day. My mother probably hadn't gone shopping for years and still relied on the clothing, jewelry, and accessories her mother had left her. Of course, she would claim she had no use for any of it She went nowhere, but even Daddy, who had little use for so-called romantic ideas, used to say a woman is more like a garden than a man.

  "She needs a new flower or pruning and tender loving care far more than a man. A new piece of jewelry, a bouquet of roses, a box of candy can make a woman's face blossom, and the glow from that can light up the day, not only for her, but for everyone around her." he told me.

  My mother was so fond of shawls. I decided to get her a pashmina. After I had picked out the things I wanted, the salesgirl asked me for my address.

  "So we can send you notifications of sales and new items." she explained.

  I saw no reason not to give her my address, and did so. Two women shopping together were standing nearby they both obviously turned an ear in my direction and, as soon as I gave Joya del Mar as the address, smiled at me and approached.

  "I couldn't help but overhear your address," the taller woman said. She wore a leather outfit with a fur-lined collar and had diamonds dripping from her earlobes. "Are you staying with the Eatons? We're good friends of Bunny's," she added quickly.

  "No, I'm staying with my mother and my brother. Grace and Linden Montgomery," I replied, smiling.

  They both pulled back as if I were breathing the plague. "Oh," the taller woman said. "You're the longlost daughter."

  The shorter woman, clad in a gray skirt suit, stared at me with furious eyes. She had coal-black, curly hair and was stouter, almost without a waist,

  "I happen to work for Mangle. Orseck. and Lapolt as a paralegal," she said through barely opened, thick lips. "and I can tell you it's not only foolish but pathetic and cruel for you to be