The Way Back

by Stephanie Doyle

  Still, Gabby was going to find the truth. Jamie would simply be the one to decide what she would do with the information she uncovered.

  As for Melissa… Gabby decided her role was on a need-to-know basis only.

  “So? Don’t leave me hanging. What’s the big revelation?”

  “I don’t think what happened that fateful day outside the motel in Florida really happened. I think there was a misunderstanding.”

  Melissa rolled her eyes, which Gabby wanted to point out wasn’t the best look for her.

  “Gabby, come on. The man was called out before the world as an adulterer with a capital A. He didn’t deny it once. You think he would have let people believe it if he was innocent. If it was all some crazy misunderstanding among friends like a bad episode of Three’s Company? I don’t think so.”

  He would have if he’d been protecting someone, Gabby thought. The one thing she knew about him from their weeks together was that he’d always sacrificed himself to protect someone he cared about. So she needed to talk to the people involved and find out once and for all what he’d done and who Jamison Hunter was.

  Other than the man she’d foolishly given her heart to.

  Since she had already confirmed Jamie wasn’t going to talk that left two other people.

  “Look, we’re talking about two trips. A couple of days each at most.”

  “Where you plan to do what? Find Cheryl Hillerman and get her to speak about what happened? Something she has never once done for any journalist, television reporter, any news organization? Even more closed mouth than her is Hunter’s ex-wife. The only comment the woman has ever made was to check the box citing irreconcilable differences on her divorce decree. It isn’t going to happen.”

  “I can be very convincing.” Gabby could use a little of that convincing power right now.

  This was important. Having the backing of a publisher might make her more reputable to the two women involved. Showing up as an unemployed talk show host who happened to be in love with Jamie Hunter didn’t seem like a way to win them over. Acting in an official capacity as his biographer gave her more cache and hopefully would persuade them to open up.

  Even if Gabby’s reason for being there was a lie.

  Gabby squirmed a little in her chair and tried not to think about how she was using Melissa and McKay Publishing for her own ends. Except, they knew the risks. As an industry, publishing thrived on a gamble. All she was asking was they step up to the table and roll the dice.

  What happened after would be anyone’s guess.

  Melissa tapped the ends of her fingers together, making her long nails click. Gabby was reminded slightly of Cruella DeVille, but forced herself to keep her expression neutral.

  “Let’s look at this from the ten-thousand-foot view, shall we?” the senior editor began. “You’re not a writer. You’re not a print journalist.”

  “I was,” Gabby interrupted. “At the start of my career.”

  “You wrote articles for fashion and entertainment magazines.”

  “Yes, but some of it was really…hard-hitting stuff.” Gabby thought about her first interview with a local Philadelphia actress who she made cry after she confessed to having had breast enhancement surgery—something she’d repeatedly denied in the press up to that point.

  “That was then. This is now. Now, you’re a new editor who failed in the first assignment I gave her. And you want me to sign off on this exploratory mission of yours to prove Jamison Hunter—a self-confessed adulterer—is innocent of cheating on his wife?”

  Gabby closed her eyes. When put like that, it didn’t seem likely Melissa would agree to her plan.

  In a last ditch effort, she played her trump card. “Both Cheryl Hillerman and Paula Hunter will talk to me. I know it.”

  “Why?” The skepticism rolled off Melissa’s tongue.

  “Because we have something in common. We all are, or were at some point, in love with Jamie Hunter. They’ll talk to me because they’ll see I care about him.”

  Melissa fell back into her chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I send you up there to get a commitment on a biography and you fall in love with the damn guy. Is that what this is about? Some romantic hope he isn’t the creep he’s reported to be.”

  Gabby leaned forward until her hands were braced on her boss’s desk, her urgency a very real thing exploding in her chest.

  “Melissa, I’m telling you this guy isn’t who the world thinks he is. I know it deep down inside. He’s a hero and an American icon. His name and reputation were trashed, possibly for no good reason. If Cheryl and Paula ultimately refuse to talk to me, then fine. It’s my dime and you can fire me as fast as you like. If they do talk, you need to let me tell the story and you need to listen to it. I know I’m right. The country needs the truth.”

  I need the truth.

  “You’re right, Haines. You’re very convincing.” Melissa shook her head and smiled. “'The country needs the truth.’ You sound like a bad movie. Okay. I’ll authorize the trips but you get your expense check only if we get a book. Even if we can’t get Hunter to talk, I’ll still bite if either of these women are interested in coming forward to tell their side. You’ve now got three chances to get me one book. I assume you know where to find both women.”

  Gabby did. Although they did everything to keep a low profile, the internet had yielded the names of the towns they both called home. From there it was simply a matter of finding the right people who would point Gabby in the direction she needed to go.

  “Okay. We’ll make sure you have what you need. But this time, Gabby, if you don’t bring me back the book, any book… You know there will be no third chances.”

  She wasn’t going to need a third chance. She was sure of it. One of the women would talk to her. Even if she had to shake the truth out of them.

  * * *

  “GABBY!” JAMIE BOUNDED up the steps to the B and B. The sick feeling he’d been left with all night grew darker. The reality that he’d pushed her away for good sank in some time around midnight.

  He’d let it stew for a good couple of hours, telling himself he’d done the right thing until about 4:00 a.m. when he was certain he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. There had been another hour of stewing because, even though he knew he’d made a mistake, he wasn’t entirely convinced he could fix it if he wanted to.

  Now the sun was coming up on the island and he was here with the hope he could make everything better. But no one was responding to his shouts, until finally Susan came out of the kitchen, looking slightly disheveled.

  “She’s gone, Jamie.”

  Yeah, he knew it. Her car wasn’t parked out front and somehow the island felt a little lonelier. He needed to see the proof for himself, though.

  “She came back early last night and threw all her stuff together and took off for the ferry. I could see she was in a state and I told her to wait until morning, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

  Because he had told her to go. He had told her to get out. Standing there half naked listening to her tell him she believed in him… It was too much. He’d been overwhelmed at the same time feeling stripped and raw and more vulnerable than he’d ever been in his life.

  Maybe that was the real reason he kicked her butt to the curb. It had nothing to do with protecting her, or preventing her eventual heartache when she learned the truth about him. Instead, it was his heart he’d been protecting. Because he felt her belief in him straight to his core. He wanted to hold on to it. Treasure it. He wanted to believe he could really claim it and call it his own.

  He wanted to believe it would last forever.

  “I blew it, Susan.”

  The older woman nodded then tugged on his hand. “I’ll make you some coffee and you can have a fresh muffin.”

  Unthinking he followed her into her kitchen. This room was sacrosanct for Susan. No guests ever came in here. But she sat him at a large, family-size table and put a hot blueberry muffin she’d
pulled out of the oven in front of him along with a cup of coffee.

  “What happened?”

  “I told her to leave. Why did I do that?”

  She nodded and sat with her own coffee. “Love can be a very scary thing.”

  Love. The word had him sitting straighter. “I don’t love her. Why would you say that?”

  He didn’t love her. He liked her a lot. He liked her company. Her presence in his life, which felt a lot fuller when she was around. He liked that she didn’t take herself or him too seriously.

  Okay, he loved her body. He loved her body a lot.

  “Maybe you can’t admit you were headed that way. Maybe you think it will be easier to get over her. Take it from me, honey, it won’t. Our feelings are what they are. You can’t change them, or wish them away. This is going to hurt you, Jamie.”

  “I can make her come back. If I told her something, I could make her believe in me… I could make her come back.”

  “I don’t think you should do it,” Susan said. “I’m sorry you’re hurt, but the truth is, I don’t think you were ready for Gabby.”

  Her words jerked him out of his own depressing thoughts. “What do you mean?”

  “You haven’t let anyone get close to you since I’ve known you. Not really close. You keep everyone at arm’s length and it wouldn’t have worked with her. Gabby, I could tell, was a person who needs to be all the way in. That’s the only way she feels safe. I was worried for her.”

  “Worried for her? I’m the one sitting here looking like a fool.”

  “Because you pushed her away. Because you’re not ready.”

  Was Susan right? It was scary to think how many different ways he could have played out the scene in his bedroom. He could have told Gabby everything. He could have accepted what she had to offer and tried to build on it. He could have kept her close.

  Instead, he told her to get out. And not for the first time. Now that he thought about it, he had to wonder why she kept coming back. Every time he pushed her away, she rebounded like a puppy who didn’t understand it didn’t belong. Was it for the story? Or was it for him?

  If it was for him, he had to agree with Susan. Maybe he wasn’t ready. On the heels of that acknowledgment was the crazy feeling he wanted to be. Never had his solitary world seemed so dull, so depressing. He wanted Gabby’s light, her energy…he wanted her.

  “How does a person get ready?”

  Susan patted his hand. “That is a very good question and one I have no idea how to answer.”

  He grimaced. “You’re not helping me out here, Susan.”

  She shrugged. “How about another muffin?”

  * * *

  “CHERYL HILLERMAN?”

  The woman with the long blonde hair turned around. She was in her early forties and still had a complexion fabulous enough she could leave her house without makeup on.

  No one in Ryan’s Port, Florida, would give Gabby her address nor was it listed in the area directory. After hours of speaking to the locals it was clear Cheryl was a treasured member of the tight-knit community and they protected their own. Gabby figured the only way to find her would be to hang out at all the usual gathering spots until eventually she came into town.

  The most central of spots was the coffee shop. In typical fashion it was where people got their gossip and coffee in one stop.

  Yesterday, Gabby had heard the young girl behind the counter call out to the blonde by name as she handed over a smoothie. Although it had been almost eight years since her picture had been plastered on every newspaper and tabloid in the country, Gabby easily recognized the woman at the heart of the scandal.

  She had come and gone so quickly, Gabby couldn’t catch her without chasing her down the block. Not the easiest or most effective way to make an introduction. Besides, she hadn’t actually worked out what she would say. Finding the woman had been paramount. Convincing her to open up about the past was an obstacle Gabby figured she would conquer after she met her.

  She’d told Melissa she could be convincing. Sitting around in a coffee shop, hoping Cheryl needed her daily fix of smoothie didn’t feel convincing. It felt nerve racking. Those nerves had kicked into high gear as soon as the blonde woman once again walked through the door. It took Gabby five seconds to gather up her courage, but she knew it was now or never.

  Gabby waited until she ordered the banana and strawberry concoction then stepped in front of her before she could leave. The woman had an easy smile and a graceful figure she covered with a tied-dyed cotton skirt and white cotton blouse.

  “You are Cheryl Hillerman?”

  “Can I help you?”

  Not having thought of any convincing lie which might get the woman to talk about the past, Gabby’s only play was the truth. “My name is Gabby Haines and I work for McKay Publishing—”

  And just like that the easy smile was gone and Cheryl was walking out the door. Gabby followed her out onto the street thankful she’d worn practical shoes since she practically had to jog to catch up to the woman.

  “Please, Ms. Hillerman if I could have just five minutes—”

  “Go away!”

  “I’m here because Jamie sent me.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. Slowly, Cheryl turned, her face a mask of skepticism.

  “You know Jamie?”

  “I do. I’m writing his biography.”

  The woman laughed harshly. “Bull. No way Jamie ever tells anyone about his life. He’s too damn ashamed of it.”

  “Well, it’s been a while and maybe he feels the world is ready to finally hear about what really happened that day.”

  “What really happened?” Cheryl’s eyes narrowed, but at least Gabby had piqued her interest.

  “I’m looking for the complete story. I want to hear what happened from you directly, in your words.”

  Cheryl shook her head. “Nope. Don’t believe you for a second. Jamie will never talk about that day. Not with anyone. It would hurt Paula and he would cut off his arm before he did that again.”

  “I’ve spent time with Jamie. I know him.” I’m most likely in love with him, which really sucks if I’m wrong about the past. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know the story told by a single incriminating picture could have been misleading. I’m looking for the truth.”

  Cheryl didn’t speak for a moment and Gabby wondered how close she was to considering Gabby’s proposal. Hope spiked, but then Cheryl shook her head, her decision obviously reached.

  “Believe whatever you want. I’m not talking. If Jamie got on the phone and told me himself he okayed this farce of a biography, I still wouldn’t talk. I’ve spent the past eight years trying to make the people of this tiny community forget I was the nation’s other woman. I’m not going back there. Ever. You want to tell his story, then end it before that day ever happened. It would make everyone’s lives a little easier.”

  The figurative walls in front of the woman were so thick, Gabby knew she wasn’t going to penetrate them. So much for being convincing. She held up her hands in surrender and took a step backward. “You win. I’ll leave. Can I ask one last question?”

  “You can, but I won’t answer it.”

  “Did you love him?” Gabby couldn’t say why she asked the question especially considering how hostile Cheryl was to her. But something in Gabby wanted to believe if it did happen, if Jamie had cheated on his wife and this woman engaged in adultery with him, then it was about more than sex.

  She expected the woman to turn and walk away. Instead a small smile played about her lips as though she was remembering a joke someone told a long time ago.

  “Did I love him?” she repeated. “No, I can honestly tell you I did not. For whatever that’s worth. Now leave me alone or I swear my next trip is to the police station. Surely there are laws about being harassed in the street.”

  Gabby took another step back. “I understand. Thank you for speaking with me.”

  “You’re not welcome.” Chery
l rushed her steps and a block away turned a corner so she was out of sight. Gabby thought about what she didn’t learn and probably should consider her efforts a waste of time.

  Only she didn’t. If anything, she felt more strongly than ever the three people in this play were hiding something. Jamie wasn’t talking. Cheryl certainly wasn’t talking.

  That left only one cast member.

  It was time for Gabby to meet the ex-wife.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “MRS. HUNTER, I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to talk with me.”

  Paula Hunter had short dark hair she wore in a sleek bob around her face. Her smile was soft and elegant. Her clothes were Audrey Hepburn chic from her slimming dark capri pants to her crisp white collared shirt.

  She was the picture of class and understated beauty. A modern day Jackie O. Gabby felt like an ungainly elephant in her presence. In her defense, she had to imagine most woman would feel the same.

  She had been much easier to locate than Cheryl since her name and number were actually listed in the local phone directory. She was still Mrs. Paula Hunter after all these years. She lived in the same home she’d purchased for herself after the divorce. With a generous divorce settlement plus an inheritance from her mother, she lived comfortably in the upscale Connecticut neighborhood.

  “I was surprised to receive your call. It’s been so long since anyone has asked me for ‘the story.’ There are days I can almost forget it ever happened.”

  Gabby watched the woman’s delicate fingers form air quotes around the words and thought she even made that gesture look classy.

  “Mrs. Hunter…may I call you Paula?”

  “Of course.”

  “I think you’ll find I’m not here to dig up dirt or create more scandal. I’m only trying to put all the pieces of the past together. Because, in looking back at what happened, I think the puzzle was incomplete. I believe in my heart there was more to the story than the people ever knew.”

  “Why do you believe that?”

  It was a fair question. Gabby wasn’t sure how Jamie’s ex-wife would respond to the answer. But she had taken Gabby’s call. She’d invited her into her home. It seemed only fair Gabby was as truthful to Paula as she wanted Paula to be with her.