The Future Scrolls

by Fern Michaels

  “So I suppose you came over here to try and muscle me out of the scrolls. Well, it won’t work, Alex! I’ll never tell you where they are. Never!”

  He grabbed her arm and squeezed till it hurt, the pain registering on her face. “I think you will, Val,” he said in a calm, modulated voice that was geared to a key turning in the lock. He wasn’t surprised to see Eugene enter the room.

  “Alex, I hope I’m not interrupting some touching reconciliation scene.” Eugene’s too-long, straight, fair hair hung over one eye. His sarcastic, droll mouth forced itself into a broad, malicious grin.

  Valerie’s eyes darted from one man to the other. The tip of her pink tongue licked at her upper lip. The slight action did not go unnoticed by Alex, nor did he miss the triumphant look in her eyes.

  “No, Eugene, nothing could be farther from the truth and, as for you, Val, don’t get your hopes up that Eugene and I will fight over you. Eugene has more sense than that. Don’t you, Eugene?”

  The tall, sandy-haired man appeared decidedly uncomfortable. He stretched his neck as though he were trying to free it from an overly tight collar.

  “I’ve told Val and now I’ll tell you, I’m through playing these games. I’m prepared to pay for the scrolls.”

  Eugene advanced on Val and menacingly swung her around. “You little bitch! You told him, didn’t you? You told him the deal fell through for the scrolls. Don’t lie to me; admit it!”

  Valerie was astonished by this sudden attack. “No, no, I swear, I didn’t say anything. He just came here knocking on the door and I thought you had forgotten your key.”

  Eugene was hard put to control himself till Alex placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “That’s enough.”

  Valerie shot a look of hatred at her husband. “It’s true. The deal did fall through on those stupid scrolls. The only person in the world who could possibly want them is you, Alex.”

  “And what are you prepared to pay for them?” Eugene broke in.

  “Yes, what are you prepared to pay, Alex? Your mother’s jewels, your fine house and hacienda? Your life?” Her eyes glittered greedily. “Maria?”

  “Stop it, Valerie,” Eugene warned. His mind was reeling at the thought of Alex’s wealth, his Latin determination to regain the scrolls. Val noted her stepbrother’s attempt to interfere and stopped him with a frantic hand gesture.

  “Don’t stop me, Eugene!” Then putting herself close to Alex, she whined, “Just what are you willing to pay? And just what are you paying for, Alex? My lost youth? The years I rotted away in your house? The insults I’ve suffered because of your mother? You couldn’t allow me to be a part of your secret, could you? No, only your mother, the grande dame.”

  Alex saw the greed and hatred in her eyes. He knew then that Valerie would settle for nothing less than seeing him ruined. She knew he’d give anything for the ancient parchments.

  For the first time, Eugene sensed that Val had been right all along. Alex appeared so determined to have his way that he would face ruin rather than lose the scrolls. Eugene moistened his lips in anticipation of the profit he would gain by playing Alex’s game, but now Valerie was going too far. If he allowed it, she would lose any chance she had of getting her hands on the Mendeneres fortune, which danced before his eyes.

  Alex studied Valerie carefully. Virulence glistened in her eyes. He saw the calculated figuring taking place inside her head. The money was secondary; in fact, Alex would bet that the money was Eugene’s idea, not Valerie’s. All she wanted was to see Alex ruined, financially, morally, emotionally.

  Valerie smiled, revealing her sharp, small white teeth. “You’d even trade off Maria, wouldn’t you?”

  Now the game was clear. It wasn’t the money. That would hurt him, but not enough. It was his child she wanted. She knew that this way his destruction would be complete. He gathered himself to full height and looked down into her glittering green eyes. His answer was too long in coming for Valerie. She wanted to know now!

  “Wouldn’t you! You’d even trade off Maria!”

  “If necessary,” came his soft reply. Quickly, Alex turned on his heel and left the apartment, leaving two enraged people in his wake.

  He stepped out into the hall and moved toward the elevator. Perspiration broke out on his brow and upper lip. He no longer felt controlled, calm, and he could taste bile rising up in his mouth. “Good God,” he prayed, “let me have done the right thing. Help me to keep Maria and gain the scrolls.”

  The taste in his mouth became more bitter and he willed his gut to settle itself and be strong for what he had to do next.

  Halloween started out as a dismal day. The sky was overcast, the day raw and cold. Fortunately, the weather did not dampen the children’s spirits. All day, they gave out hints to each other on the costumes they were going to wear that night. Maria was ecstatic. After two hours of trick-or-treating, there was to be a party at the Alperts’ house. Dani had spent the previous day baking gingerbread and had driven two miles up the road to buy cider and the huge apples that were to be her contribution to the night’s festivities.

  Sarah Alpert had invited Dani to a more sophisticated party that would start after the children were tucked away, but she knew a polite, quick appearance would be all that she’d make. A party was no fun without an escort. Sensing Dani’s reluctance, Sarah volunteered her brother but she rejected the offer saying she wanted to finish a chapter on the cookbook.

  Of late, that cookbook had covered a multitude of excuses. If the truth were known, she detested the whole idea. She could no longer get into the swing of things. The household chores completed, Dani would sit by the hour and dream impossible dreams. Playing sad songs on the stereo and smoking incessantly was another favorite pastime.

  By seven-thirty, Maria was dressed as “the Batman” and raring to go. She marched out to the corner and stood under the tulip tree to wait for the others to join her.

  Thirteen

  “Dani, I had the best time ever.”

  Dani smiled as she looked at the pudgy Batman with drooping eyes, clutching a plastic bag containing two swinging goldfish. “Let’s get you undressed and into bed. Just wash your face. The candy apples and the chocolate cake must have been good.”

  “How did you know we ate that?”

  “Let’s just call it an educated guess.”

  As Dani waited for Maria to shed her beloved costume, she listened to a steady flow of sleepy talk. “Dunking for apples . . . wet spaghetti and peeled grapes . . . Lori didn’t come . . . Batman too . . . mother upset . . . everyone is looking . . .”

  Dani’s scalp prickled, “Did I hear you right, Maria? Lori didn’t go to the party?”

  “I guess she changed her mind,” came the sleepy response.

  “I thought you said everyone was looking for her. Do you mean she’s lost?”

  Maria nodded sleepily.

  “But that’s terrible. Who’s looking for her? Do you know?”

  Another nod. “All the fathers are out looking. So are Kelly and Tony. Their fathers said they were old enough and knew the woods as well as the men, if not better.”

  Dani looked at the sleepy child fighting to keep her eyes open. Quickly, she tucked her in and, before she could kiss her good night, Maria was breathing steadily. How beautiful, Dani thought fondly. Smiling at the close-cropped hair and the thick, velvety eyelashes, she turned off the lamp and tiptoed from the room.

  With trembling hands, Dani dialed the Alperts’ number. The phone rang only once. “This is Dani,” she said to the alert voice on the other end.

  “I thought it might be you. I suppose Maria told you about Lori’s disappearance.”

  “What happened? Do you know?”

  “Just what her mother told me. She dressed Lori as Batman and walked her to the tulip tree to meet the rest of the children, as you know. Ann Jennings said she left her there at seven-fifty. Kelly left here about the same time and he said she wasn’t there. No one saw her all evening.�
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  Dani felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck move. “It’s after midnight. Where could she be?”

  “God only knows, Dani. I’m worried sick. I feel like it’s all my fault. It was my idea to have the party.”

  While Dani made soothing noises, her mind raced. Hanging up the phone, she quickly ran and locked the doors and kitchen windows. Breathing raggedly, Dani sat down by the dying fire and willed her mind to stop reeling. Out of desperation, she leaped up and threw some logs on the dying fire embers and watched the spurt as they showered over the cherry logs. It couldn’t be, could it? It had to be. What other explanation was there? Lori had been kidnapped. My God, what should she do? Could she call the police without endangering Alex’s plans and possibly Maria? Would the abductors let her go when they realized their mistake, or would they hold her? God in heaven! What had she gotten herself into? Damn! Damn! Damn!

  She reached for the phone and yanked it so hard the receiver fell violently against her knee.

  Dani dialed Alex’s number and waited. One, two . . . six . . . nine . . . ”Yes?” came the guarded voice.

  “This is Dani. I must talk to you. Something has happened.” Quickly, she recited the events of the night and waited for his reaction.

  “Listen to me, Dani. Do not do anything. I swear to you that when Valerie realizes she has the wrong child, she will return your little Lori.”

  “How can you be so sure? I can’t just sit here and not tell the child’s mother the truth. How can you be so cruel?”

  “Cruelty has nothing to do with it,” came the crisp reply. “You will have to take my word, for the child will be returned to its parents. I can do nothing at the moment. In fact, we are both helpless, aren’t we?”

  “Maybe you are, but I’m not,” Dani shouted at the calm Latin. “You can’t play with people’s lives like you’re doing. And that’s what you’re doing and you damn well know it.” She lowered her voice so as not to wake Maria. “I let you maneuver us but you can’t stand by and let something happen to little Lori. She’s only six years old, Alex.”

  “I must. Don’t you see?” came the torn reply. “I’m pleading with you, Dani. Do nothing till morning.”

  “And let that child be out all night? What about her parents who are worried sick? Not on your life, Alexander Renaldo Mendeneres. I’m calling the police. I want to be able to live with myself. For all I care, you can take your daughter and all your suppressed people and jump off a bridge.” A sob caught in her throat as she hung up the phone.

  Dani mixed herself a strong drink and lit a cigarette before she pulled the phone onto her lap again. She leafed through the pages for the number of the police department. The receiver in one hand, her finger poised to dial, she was startled to hear a loud knock at the door.

  The phone slid to the floor as Dani raced to the door. “Mrs. Alpert! Did you find her?”

  “You’re still up. I thought you might be,” Sarah Alpert smiled as her eyes took in the drawn draperies and she hadn’t missed hearing the chain being moved. “I was going to call you but I thought it would be better if I told you the good news in person. They found her. She’s safe and home in bed right this minute. A group of teenagers found her wandering down the streets in Flemington.”

  “What happened?” Dani asked, relief written all over her face.

  Sarah shrugged. “Lori is asleep. As near as the police can figure it, some men picked her up. What I don’t understand is why they let her go, unless . . .” she said, looking squarely at Dani, “they had the wrong child. Lori is about Maria’s build, even though she’s younger. And they were both wearing the same costume. I don’t understand any of it. Do you?” Involuntarily, her gaze went to the chain lock on the door, as did Dani’s.

  Dani shook her head. Sarah Alpert was no fool. She knew it was Maria the men were after. God, I could kill that Alex, she thought nastily.

  “Well, it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep. Maria is OK, isn’t she?”

  Dani nodded, her mind speeding. She closed and locked the front door, replaced the telephone and finished her drink before she ground out the cigarette she hadn’t smoked. Again she looked at the phone. Let him simmer, she thought viciously. Why should I tell him? He doesn’t deserve an explanation, even if he was right. Who did he think he was anyway? With a frenzied motion, she threw the phone book into the bright dancing flames.

  She slept fitfully, one nightmare breaking on another. Alexander Renaldo Mendeneres was hung in effigy all night long. The small clock read six-ten but she could never go back to sleep. Instead she plugged in the coffeepot and took a leisurely bath, purposely making her mind blank. Fortified to face the day, she opened the front door and picked up the morning paper.

  Carrying her coffee into the living room, she sat down and opened the paper. She searched the small local paper till she found what she wanted. It was only a small article but it was what she wanted.

  Six-year-old Lori Jennings was kidnapped for several hours, yet found wandering on the main street in Flemington late last evening. Police are at a loss to explain the circumstances surrounding the child’s disappearance. Lori, tired and sleepy, repeatedly told police that “the man with the earring kept saying the party had been changed.” Police are checking further into the incident.

  Dani read the small paragraph a second time. Finishing her coffee and lighting another cigarette, she returned to the front page of the paper. This time she started to read with her usual thoroughness. She went from one page to the next and attacked the women’s page with her usual zest. There it was: how could she have missed it the first time? Because you weren’t looking for it, she answered herself. It was a picture of the strikingly beautiful woman from the airport. Dani lowered her eyes and flinched at the wording of the caption.

  Valerie Camilla Mendeneres, wife of wealthy businessman Alexander Renaldo Mendeneres of Argentina, having dinner at 21 with multimillionaire Jason Sinclair.

  Dani squinted at the picture and felt sick. Lord, she was beautiful. She was as beautiful as Alex was handsome. What a striking couple they must have made, she thought jealously. If this was Valerie, then the man with her at the airport, the one with the earring, must be her brother. What did the piece mean? Jason Sinclair—the name had a familiar ring.

  She let her mind have its way. Back in her research days, she had been asked to find out about and to interview an eccentric millionaire. He was a kook of the first order. He dabbled in everything. There wasn’t anything he didn’t have his fingers into and he was also a cultist. She looked at the unflattering picture of the flabby eccentric and grimaced. Heavy jowls, beady eyes that almost glittered, no eyebrows and a completely bald head. He had blubbery lips that seemed to sneer continually. Dani cringed as she remembered the remarks he had made to her. He thought money could buy anything, including her. He had even offered to set her up in a penthouse for her “favors,” as he so delicately put it. Dani had laughed openly, and told him exactly what she thought of his “favors.” By the time she got back to her office with her incomplete interview, she had been fired. Her personal belongings were piled helter-skelter in a box on her desk. Shrugging philosophically, she collected unemployment for a few months.

  Dani looked at the picture again.... Suddenly, it all fell into place. Eccentric millionaire, it had to be. Valerie’s contact. Then she grew confused remembering what Alex had said about his picture being days old when it appeared in the paper. A fill-in, he called it. Dani scoured the entire column for some mention as to the date the picture of Valerie was taken. Nothing.

  She certainly is beautiful, Dani thought enviously, as she peered at the picture of Valerie Mendeneres. They must have made a handsome pair, she thought jealously. And the child. What of the child? A mother who doesn’t care one whit about her own flesh and blood, and a father who would sacrifice his own child for his own ends, whatever they may be. And here I sit, she grimaced, schnook of the year, taking care of their child
, and no doubt caring more about her than either of them. Yes, sir, schnook of the year! She wadded up the page and threw it into the fireplace. Carefully, she lit a match and watched the paper curl and turn black, then catch and spurt into flames. She continued to watch as the flames leaped and then died down. So much for Valerie Mendeneres and Jason Sinclair.

  Later, furiously beating eggs with a wire whisk, Dani wished she could beat Maria’s father as efficiently. He made her so angry and so . . . weak in the knees. Dialing the now familiar number, she waited, taking shallow breaths. Briefly, in a trembling voice, she told him what had happened. Why did the mere sound of his voice turn her into a mass of quivering jelly? She waited for his comment. “I told you so,” he answered in cold, clipped tones. Stunned, Dani found herself speechless. Why did he do this to her? “What kind of man are you?” she blurted.

  “I believe you asked me that once before and I answered you then. I see no reason to discuss my character again,” came the imperious reply.

  Dani felt outraged at his tone. It was like a devil had her tongue. “You . . . you . . . male chauvinist, you . . . masochist . . . you . . . odious, infuriating schnook,” she choked.

  There was laughter in his voice. “I understand all the endearing terms except the last. Explain please, Dani.”

  He was laughing at her. And she was letting him. “Look it up in the dictionary,” she snarled.

  “Whatever you say,” he answered arrogantly. “You tend to your job and I’ll tend to mine.”

  Dani replaced the phone and plopped down on the deep-orange chair. “I take it all back, Bismarck—you and I belong together.” A large, shimmering tear rolled down her cheek. He was insufferable. He goes back into the ninety-seven percent. She stroked the large cat as the tears flowed down her cheeks. To think he had the ability to make her cry, to turn her into a shivering wreck. No man had ever done that to her. She hiccuped pitifully and continued to stroke the cat. “Well, I’ve never been a substitute mother before.” She dumped the big tom on the floor and wiped her eyes with the dish towel. What other reason could there be?