A sudden clapping of frantic footsteps along the flagstone walk startled them.
" YOU! " she shrieked, jogging toward the pair, pointing at Arthur with her cell phone. " Get out of here! GET OUT OF HERE! " She turned to Jeremy. "And you get back into the house. NOW! "
She drew in almost close enough to make a grab for Jeremy's wrist, when Arthur stepped in front of him, shielding him. "Stop!" he barked into her face, his eyelids peeled back and his mouth twisted into a snarl. "Stop, or I'll do something we're both gonna regret!"
She threw back her head and halted, wholly alarmed by the rabid animal he'd become. Then she stepped backward half a dozen paces while holding up the phone so they both could see her dial 911.
She pressed the contraption to her ear.
"Police?" Her voice belied a panic that was not registering on her placid features.
"This is Katharine Tyler, down on Morning View! An intruder has breached our security and is threatening my life, as well as my nephew's! He's a former employee, Arthur Blauefee. Please hurry-- he's a trained soldier and is very dangerous and I don't know what he's capable of!" Then she screamed and heaved the phone over the cliff.
"Have you completely lost your mind?" Arthur asked her, laughing.
"I was about to ask you the same," she sneered. "You made the decision to leave him, to abandon him. And now you're back, within hours?" She turned to Jeremy.
"This man you're so 'in love with' has all of the emotional maturity of a retarded twelve-year-old."
"Back down, Katharine," Arthur growled. "I've listened to enough of your poison for one day."
"You're on private property, little man, but you still have time to flee before the police show up. By the way, do you happen to know what the statute of limitations is on child molestation?"
"You're going to shut your mouth and listen," he began. "I don't know what's wrong with me, listening to you castrate me in there before." He tossed his head toward the house. "And I'm not gonna stand here and outline all of your personal shortcomings for you, or the horrible, horrible mistakes you've made, because I'm too much of a gentleman to beat up a lady--even with words. But I will say this: You're a selfish, pigheaded bully, and I've spent a lifetime trying to live with myself for not standing up to the biggest bully I ever knew, until now. I'm also not gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I'd told you to your face that you're dead wrong about me, and about him." He put his arm around Jeremy and pulled him close. "You almost had me, Katharine." He narrowed his eyes and stared her down.
"You even had me believing that things like social class and age and 'breeding'
have more to do with happiness than just plain old love, and laughter, and respect.
But you're wrong." He pointed his finger accusingly at her. "And where did it ever get you? What kind of happiness did you ever have, married to that monster, to that murderer?" He laughed. "You got a pretty house and a lot of filthy money, more than you'll probably ever spend or need, but you also got a lot of grief. Grief that's gonna stick around for decades, and maybe even for the rest of your pathetic life."
She glared at him, her eyes glazed over with sheer hatred. "I told you what I'd do to him if you didn't leave quietly." She turned and began trudging toward the house.
"And now you've given me no choice!"
"Neither have you," he yelled after her. "Either you tell him or I will!"
She froze in midstep, and then pivoted slowly. "You wouldn't. It would destroy him."
"No!" he hollered. "It'll destroy you!"
He put both hands on Jeremy's sagging shoulders and pushed him gently in front of himself. "Look at him now, Katharine! Just look at what you've done to this person who you supposedly love! Doesn't your one living relative--this wonderful, innocent creature--look destroyed already?" Tears began streaming down his own face now, as he felt the gentle warmth of Jeremy's shoulders under the palms of his hands. "And who do you think is responsible for this destruction, for his tears and his misery? Whose greed did this to him?" His voice was a roar now, as he fought to be heard over the sudden thrash of the waves below. "By all of the gods in heaven, you know it wasn't mine!"
"You will live to regret this!" she cried. "I promise you that I'll use every resource at my disposal to ruin you. How dare you try to turn him against me!"
"I'm already living with the regret of what I did this morning, and that's why I'm here. But everyone who makes mistakes has to pay for them. I'm willing to pay for mine, but why make me, or worse yet, Jeremy, pay for yours? Hasn't he paid enough already? Hasn't everyone paid for your mistakes-- but you? "
"You're mistaken." She shook her head emphatically. "I only did what was in our best interest. His and mine. You can't fault me for that."
"But you gambled, and it went very, very wrong," he reminded her. "And Jeremy, who trusted you, almost died. Don't you at least owe him the truth, and then let him make the decision about what to do next? It's about redemption, Katharine. You need to redeem yourself, or it'll destroy you; I promise you it will, just like Tiffany's mistakes ruined her. You, of all people, should know you can't bury your secrets forever."
She began marching toward the house again, but stopped. Then she continued walking away, more slowly. "I don't even know what you're speaking of!" she shot back feebly over her shoulder.
The overlapping wails of approaching sirens caught their ears, as did the flapping of a helicopter's rotor.
"What're you both talking about?" Jeremy asked, wiping his eyes and nose with his wrist.
The sirens, as well as the chopper, were getting louder.
"Aunt Katharine!" Jeremy called out to her. "Tell me what he's talking about!"
Time stopped--until she turned.
And took one step toward them.
Then another.
And another.
When she drew in, a long arm's distance away, she looked from one man to the other. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. Then she squeezed shut her eyes and sudden tears spilled down her cheeks.
"I've done something terrible," she said to Jeremy at last.
Chapter 52
Although the news had predicted rain, they decided to dine on the deck, as it was Arthur's first time at the Lake Estrella chalet, and he was entranced by the tranquil alpine setting the back of the home presented. And because the storm was tardy, the slivered moon, like a giant glow-in-the-dark fingernail clipping, was visible riding up over the eastern mountain ridge, while a sage-scented zephyr made the redwoods whisper and the darkened water wrinkle as it fluttered through the nestled cove before soaring out to the broad main channel.
"Do you think the police thought she was crazy?" Jeremy asked him over the lapping of the waves below.
"No, they're probably used to going out on calls like that. But it's good that she got herself together in time--so at least she looked rational." He looked him up and down. "Where'd you get that red sweatshirt? I've never seen it before."
"Yeah, one of my friends left it up here," Jeremy answered mysteriously.
"Anyways, I'm just glad they went away so soon, so we were still able to come up here."
"So am I." Arthur gazed across the rough-hewn table at him and saw that the twilight had thickened just enough that Jeremy's thoughtful features were illuminated now from the flickering citronella candle instead of the fading sky. "I figured you didn't want to spend the night there with her any more than I wanted to be back at my folks' house, and my mom was fine with putting off dinner for later this week. Want some more?" he asked.
"Sure," Jeremy replied, so Arthur scooped more of the mac 'n' cheese from the steaming bowl and dropped it onto his plate next to the mostly untouched heap of broccoli. "Just let me know what night you're gonna see her, so I can see Carlo at the same time; in fact, Babalu's coming up next week for a visit, and I don't want to miss him." He popped a forkful into his mouth. "Jesus, this is hot."
"You always forget." Arthur snickered. "I want to
see Babalu then too, so let's go together." He paused. "So what was it you were going to tell me, that you wouldn't in the car on the way up?"
"I'm still saving that for later. Aren't you gonna ask me more about Carlo?"
"How was that whole thing? You never really told me that, either."
He shrugged. "It went so much better than I ever thought it would. I mean, we were having problems from the start, like we were arguing too much, but it's like we were both sort of forcing it because we thought we should be together, that it was crazy not to be--and of course because the gay sex was good, too." He laughed. "I love him, Arthur; you know that. He's my best, best, best friend in the world, and nothing's gonna ever change that. But I don't think I was ever in love with him; he never made my panties wet."
"What did he say to you when you brought it up, if you don't mind me asking?"
"He said it was better that I was breaking up with him, because I wouldn't be able to take him breaking up with me, because he's so much stronger than me."
"Sounds just like him." Arthur laughed. "He's such a strong young man with so much to offer--and he deserves to be with someone who gets wet panties around him. He's a hot little dude."
"Don't I know it," Jeremy agreed, then scooped his spoon into the half-empty Pyrex bowl and drew out some cheesy noodles for Arthur.
"Thanks, old buddy. So are you gonna tell me now?"
"Tell you what?" Jeremy grinned mysteriously.
Arthur glared threateningly at him.
"OK, OK." He chewed some more and swallowed. "That e-mail I sent you.
Remember I mentioned it, right before she attacked us at the gazebo?"
Arthur cocked his head to one side. "Yeah?"
"I sent you one, a reply to yours, and it got bounced back."
"I'd deleted my account." He shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I thought it'd be best, under the horrible circumstances."
He took a bite. "I know you did, it's just that...I was writing to you to say that I already knew about everything. Then when it got returned with 'fatal errors,' I went outside to try and think of how I could reach you." He stabbed more of his dinner with his fork, and popped it into his mouth. "After that, when I was standing in the gazebo looking out at the ocean, I thought about you being gone, and my mom and dad being dead, and that I'd just ended it all with Carlo, and all I had was awful old Katharine for the rest of my life, so I started crying. And I couldn't stop--it was like I had no future anymore; there was no one anywhere that I could laugh with, and I looked at the big house and the beach out there and thought 'even though this looks cool, this place sucks just as much as Fresno.' And then--just then--you walked up out of nowhere and I almost peed my pants."
"What do you mean, you knew?" Arthur asked, leaning forward. " Knew about what? "
He smiled mischievously. "Does it bug you when I talk with my mouth full?"
"Jeremy..."
He giggled. "I was standing outside her office doors listening when she told you everything." He took a casual swig of his soda and gulped it down. "I followed you over there; I was right behind you, but you were too pissed off to notice. So by the time you'd agreed to her evil terms, I already knew the whole story, but I ran upstairs before either of you came out of the office. And I tried to tell you I knew about everything when I answered your e-mail--and I also told you I didn't care about her money, or my trust, or 'returning to the gutter from whence I came.' She'd never even thought for a second that because I was raised how I was, I didn't need the same things she needs, you know?"
"What do you mean?"
He looked skyward for a moment, then his eyes found Arthur's again. "It's like, I've already been through boot camp like you were, so I'll always know what I actually need to survive--like my dad told me in that old dream, where he said that in order to be a 'real man' I should learn the difference between what I need and what I want."
Arthur beamed happily across the table at him, and reached over to nudge his chin with his knuckle. "I can't believe I ever doubted you."
He shrugged. "You did what you thought I wanted--and I appreciate that--but it was totally manipulative of her because...she brainwashed you, or at least she tried to make you believe she'd been able to brainwash me, you know?"
"Yeah, I think I do. And I think you're right."
"And she was being such a total, wailing bitch to you; it's like she cut off your nuts and was jumping up and down on them in her Chanel pumps. I had to stop myself from running in there to scream at her, but I also..."
"You also what?"
"I guess I wanted to see what you'd do, how you'd react to what she was saying."
"I'm glad you did, because it gave me a chance to figure out everything, too."
Jeremy downed more of his soda. "So anyway, all I wanted to do after you left was leave the house and find you and run away somewhere, but I didn't know where you were."
Arthur fell back into his chair, remembering his Internet search. "If only I'd known."
"And I tried calling your cell, but I forgot they took yours back in Brazil and I didn't have the number for your new one programmed into mine, so I couldn't call you."
Arthur thought for a moment. "But you acted like...like you didn't know anything about her conversation with me in front of her, like you'd no idea at all that she tried to be the evil puppet master."
"I wanted to make her squirm," he said flatly. "After everything she did and the way she talked to you, I wanted to see her suffer while I played dumb; she needed to be humble, for once. It just would've been too easy on her if I'd said, 'Yeah, I knew it all already, you scheming Nazi.'"
"You devil." Arthur chuckled. "But you know, she was right about some of what she said."
"Like what?"
"Like that I need to do something with my life. Find a real job. Have a successful career. And here's the funny part: You know that agent who called me? Carl Singer, the one I told you about that gave me all that info on Katharine?"
"Yeah?"
"He left me another voice mail today saying there's an opening in his department.
And maybe I should consider applying for it."
"So are you?" Jeremy asked, shivering as a sudden wind whipped by. He looked up and saw that a silver-edged blanket of clouds had slid over the moon.
"I don't know." He shrugged. "I guess I should, and God knows I need the work now, but I'd like to do something different. Something I feel passionate about."
"Like what?"
"Honestly, old buddy, I just don't know. Maybe I should go back to school and finish my BA."
"Then what?"
"Teach, maybe. Or study business."
"Are those things you'd really like?"
He grimaced. "Not really. My mom was a teacher, and most days, she hated it."
"Then why would you want to do that, when you could do something you're hot about?"
"That's the thing. I really don't know what I'm excited by. I guess I'm just gonna have to think about it some more. especially now."
"I'm sure you'll--or we'll--figure it out," Jeremy said, and reached over to smooth his wrist from across the table.
Arthur considered making his announcement now but decided to wait. "Hey, when we get back, there's this really nice lady I want you to meet. She works at this little coffee place up at the edge of town."
"Sure." He nodded. "What's so great about her?"
"She's just this amazing person who loves working at this seemingly insignificant job; it's like she lives just to talk to people and make them feel better with her magical coffee and heavenly scones. She's actually living her life in the here and now, and she's happy with what she has."
"Sounds like somebody my aunt should get to know," Jeremy said, laughing. "Do you know if they're hiring? 'Cause I hear that Tyler, Inc., isn't doing so hot right now."
They both laughed, picturing Katharine scowling behind the muffins.
"But she's got this dog," Arthur continued, "this gorgeous
golden retriever that goes with her to the shop every day, and sleeps behind the counter. You'll absolutely fall in love with her. Her name's Emma Lou, and she's this perfect rust-colored angel with a snow-white face."
"Emma Lou?" Jeremy giggled, grinning. "It sounds like an old hillbilly lady."
"It fits her perfectly. You'll see."
He thought for a moment. "I want a dog, Arthur."
"Me, too. I've never had one, not even as a kid. My dad wouldn't let us."
"My aunt and mom wouldn't let me have one, either," he said, hugging his shoulders against the sudden cold. "What kind would you get?"
"There's this really beautiful breed called a flat-coated retriever; they look just like goldens, but they're coal black. And they're supposed to be amazingly smart, really friendly dogs."
"Let's look for one when we get back," Jeremy suggested, suddenly excited. "We could take it for runs on the beach, and then we could bring it up here!"
"But nothing from a breeder, OK? Let's see if we can rescue one; there's something called 'black-dog syndrome,' and they're usually the last ones rescued from shelters."
He nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love that. What could we name it?"
"If it's a boy, I'd name him Bingham."
"What if it's a girl?"
"Probably Bingham, too."
Jeremy laughed. "Then Bingham it is. But why?"
"After a hero of mine. He died the same day as Danny." Another gust of wind kicked up, and Arthur shivered. "But there's something we haven't talked about, and even though I've been thinking a lot about this...I still don't know how to say it."
Jeremy's eyebrows scrunched together. "What?"
Arthur sighed. It was now or never. "You know this'll never work. It can't--as much as I love you and you love me. It's just not meant to be."
" What--? "
"Let me finish," he said, grasping Jeremy's hand. "OK? Let me just put this out there so you can hear me out."
" But--"
He held up his free hand, and the young man stopped midsentence.
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