by B. J Daniels
“You know nothing.” The words were like thrown stones. “How dare you come here accusing my son—”
“One of your sons saved my life. If it wasn’t Jack, then it must have been his brother.”
“Stop it,” the older woman snapped. “Neither Jack nor Jonathan saved your life last night in the lake.” The scrap of envelope fluttered from her lap to land on the floor under her chair.
“What on earth is going on in here?” demanded a male voice.
Anna swung her head around as the door to the room banged open and she saw the man framed in the doorway.
In an instant, she realized that this man had to be Jonathan, and Ruth Fairbanks was right.
His dark hair was cut shorter than the man’s last night. And while tall and broad shouldered with the same smoky-gray eyes, she saw, as he moved, that this man couldn’t possibly have been the one who saved her life last night in the lake.
“Jonathan, I’m handling this,” Ruth Fairbanks said, bringing herself up to her full height as she stood to face her son.
“You let a complete stranger into our home? You call that handling this?” he demanded.
Anna felt herself sink deeper into the couch as Jonathan Fairbanks came toward her. He moved in a shuffling gait, dragging the left side of his body and leaning heavily on a thick cane.
“I’ve called the police,” he said, looking at Anna as if she were a bug that had gotten into the house.
“Please, if you could just hear me out,” Anna said. “I came here to talk to you about a hit-and-run accident that one of you might have witnessed.” She rushed on. “A Gillian Sanders—I believe contacted you about—”
“What is she talking about?” Ruth Fairbanks demanded of her son.
“I have no idea, Mother. Clearly, the woman is delusional.”
Delusional. The same word Marc had used to describe her.
Anna felt the last of her hope slip through her fingers. “I was so sure Gillian had contacted you.” She recalled that the nurse had said that Senator Fairbanks had a daughter-in-law. “Perhaps your wife,” she said to Jonathan.
She saw him blanch and then redden.
His face twisted into a sneer. “Another example of just how ill informed you are. Patricia is my brother’s widow.”
“I’m sorry.” Anna knew the police would be here soon. “If you could just ask her—”
“Ask me what?”
They all turned toward the door. A striking woman with long red hair stood in the doorway. She had the look of a woman who’d become quite comfortable with wealth. She cocked her head at Anna, curiosity in her blue eyes, as she stepped into the room.
“Having a party without me?” she asked.
Ruth Fairbanks made a disgruntled sound. “Really, Pet.”
“I was asking if you had been contacted by Gillian Sanders about a hit-and-run accident—”
“Gillian Sanders.” Patricia “Pet” Fairbanks seemed to savor the name for a few minutes as if it sounded familiar.
Anna saw her gaze go to her brother-in-law’s as she repeated the name.
“Clearly, we have never heard of you or your friend,” Jonathan snapped, glaring down at Anna. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing coming here upsetting my household, but it was a mistake.”
Anna could see that, but still she waited for Pet’s answer.
“Sorry,” Pet said with a shrug after a few moments. “Doesn’t ring any bells.”
Jonathan let out an exasperated sigh. “The police should be here at any minute. Pet, if you would please take Mother up to her room.”
Plainly that was the last thing Pet wanted to do.
“Now—before the police arrive,” Jonathan Fairbanks said through gritted teeth.
Pet did not look happy about it but, with a sigh and shake of her head, walked over to Ruth’s chair and took the older woman’s arm.
Ruth Fairbanks, to Anna’s surprise, shook it off. “I want to know why you said you saw Jack in the lake. That he saved your life. That he had a scar…” Ruth began to cry.
“You saw Jack?” Pet asked. She’d gone deathly pale.
Jonathan Fairbanks swore under his breath. “Mother, go with Pet and let me handle this.” He gave his sister-in-law a hard look. “Make sure she takes one of her pills.”
“I didn’t mean to upset your mother or your sister-in-law,” Anna said, her voice small and weak as she watched Pet steer the elderly Mrs. Fairbanks from the room.
“The hell you didn’t,” Jonathan said, the moment the two women were gone. His face filled with rage as he shuffled closer, towering over her again. “You didn’t realize that coming here and telling my mother that you saw her dead son in the lake was going to upset her?”
“I didn’t know—”
“How could you not know? He was the son of a senator. Don’t you read the papers, watch the news?”
She bit down on the reply that came to her lips. She’d either still been in a coma or just out of it when Jack Fairbanks had died. Not that she had paid any attention to the news in the weeks after she’d awakened to find out that Tyler, her precious son, was dead.
Anna knew he thought her delusional. That, at least, she couldn’t argue, because she would still have sworn that the man she’d seen at the bottom of the lake was Jack Fairbanks. Or at least someone who looked enough like him to be his brother.
As if reading her thoughts, Jonathan Fairbanks said, “My brother didn’t save your life last night and I certainly didn’t, either.” In a swift, angry movement, he drew up his pant leg to expose an artificial leg. “Are you quite through now?” he demanded.
Anna heard the doorbell. She coughed, her body aching. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Damn right,” Jonathan Fairbanks muttered.
Anna only wanted to close her eyes and sleep. She’d accomplished nothing by coming here. Instead, she’d managed to make things worse for herself.
There were no answers here, only more questions.
She looked toward the chair where the piece of envelope had fallen. It was gone. Ruth Fairbanks must have taken it with her.
“If you ever come back here, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing, do you understand?”
She understood, but there was nothing else to say even if she’d had the energy to form the words. She heard footfalls headed in her direction and wasn’t surprised when Officer D.C. Walker appeared in the open doorway.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JONATHAN FAIRBANKS LEANED on his cane as the cop entered the room, followed by Dr. Brubaker. “Get her out of here.”
“No problem,” Walker said. He shot Anna a look, fury in his expression. “Let’s go, Mrs. Collins.”
Dr. Brubaker hurried to her side as she tried to get to her feet, his brows quickly furrowing in concern as he touched her forehead. “Help me lift her to her feet,” he said to Walker. “She’s burning up. We need to get her back to the hospital.”
“You know this woman?” Jonathan Fairbanks demanded, stepping between the police officer and Anna.
“Step aside,” Walker ordered, his voice low and hard as the marble floor in the entryway.
For a moment, Fairbanks didn’t move. Anna saw the police officer’s hand go to the butt end of his weapon. Just a brief flutter of a touch, before Jonathan Fairbanks slowly limped to one side, both men glaring at each other.
“This woman almost drowned last night after her car crashed into the lake,” the doctor said, stepping between the two men. “She needs to be in the hospital.”
“Did you send her out here, Walker?” Jonathan demanded. “If I find out you’re behind this—”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Walker snapped as he swept Anna up into his arms. “Now get out of the way and let us get her back to the hospital.”
Jonathan Fairbanks backed off and Walker carried her out of the room. He didn’t look at her and she could feel waves of anger coming off him. She’d
seen the animosity between him and Jonathan Fairbanks, although she couldn’t understand it. Nor did she have the energy to try.
As they passed through the house, Anna saw another photograph of the Fairbanks brothers. It had been taken when the boys were very young. They were smiling at the camera. They could have been twins, they looked that much alike.
“I don’t want to see that woman again!” Jonathan shouted after them.
Walker had reached the front entry. Dr. Brubaker caught up to them and opened the door. As they hustled out, Anna caught a glimpse of Jonathan Fairbanks. She was certain it was fear she saw in his eyes that instant before the door closed behind them.
“You’re damned lucky he isn’t pressing charges,” Walker said as he carried her toward the dock where a boat was waiting.
Anna closed her eyes, her teeth chattering.
“In fact, I’m surprised he isn’t,” Walker said. They had reached the boat and he glanced back at the house.
“Here, wrap her in the blankets I brought,” Dr. Brubaker said, and Anna felt herself lowered into the boat.
She snuggled into the warmth of the blanket as she felt the soft rock of the boat.
RUTH FAIRBANKS STOOD AT her window watching the boat leave until the lights disappeared into the fog.
She hadn’t taken her pill as Jonathan had suggested. Suggested? Ordered. He’d been doing a lot of ordering since his father died.
“How are you feeling?”
She turned to find her daughter-in-law standing in the doorway. Ruth thought she’d locked her door. Was it possible Pet had a key? The thought chilled her.
“I’m fine,” she said. What had Jack been thinking marrying such a woman? A moment of weakness, isn’t that what he’d called it? The divorce would have gone through by now if Jack had lived and Ruth would have been shed of “Pet.”
“Jonathan asked me to check on you,” she said, making it perfectly clear no love was lost between them. As if Ruth had ever doubted it. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Ruth heard the alcohol-laced sarcasm in her daughter-in-law’s voice. If she’d had her way, Pet would have been thrown out of the house right after Jack’s funeral. It was Jonathan who’d said they couldn’t put her out on the street.
What Jonathan meant was that getting rid of Pet was more expensive than letting her stay. Pet liked being the daughter-in-law of a senator, even a dead one, and living in big houses. With Jack dead and the divorce in legal limbo, Pet was in a position, according to Jonathan, to go after even more of the Fairbankses’ assets. Not to mention, Jonathan also pointed out, what she might say about her marriage to Jack, no doubt something the press would have a field day with.
Ruth had still wanted to cut the bitch a check and send her packing.
“Let’s at least wait until Dad’s estate is settled,” Jonathan had said. “I fear you aren’t thinking clearly, Mother. Not surprising since you’ve just lost the two most important men in your life this year.”
He was referring to her husband Big Jim and her favorite son, Jack.
Jack had been her favorite of the two boys. Jonathan had always been so hard to love. Was still so hard to love. If anyone was to blame for the way things had turned out though, she knew it was her.
“Jonathan wanted me to make sure you took your pill,” Pet said from behind her.
Ruth had completely forgotten the tramp was still in the room. It angered her that Jonathan now had Pet keeping tabs on her. Worse, that Jonathan had called her doctor and gotten her a little something for her “nerves.” As if she didn’t know what the sedatives were for. “Mother” was a lot less trouble when she was knocked out or too drugged to think.
It was bad enough having Pet wandering around the house on alcohol and whatever she could get her hands on. As if Ruth hadn’t noticed the difference in her after one of her little shopping trips to Seattle.
“What should I tell him?” Pet persisted.
As Ruth turned, she picked up a small vase from a table by the window. “Tell him this.” She hurled the vase at the bane of her existence.
She’d give Pet credit—the woman was fast on her feet, even half-sloshed and overdrugged. The vase whizzed past to shatter on the far wall of the room.
Pet turned slowly to look at the mess, then back at Ruth. She smiled. “I guess that’s a no.” She quirked a brow. “Shall I send one of the maids to clean it up? Or maybe you aren’t through yet.”
Ruth snatched up the figurine that had been next to the vase but, by the time she turned around, Pet was gone.
Her anger and strength left just as quickly. She staggered to the door, closing and locking it. Tomorrow, she would get a new lock on her bedroom door and make sure no one else had a key. She would throw away those damned pills. She would…
Her face suddenly crumpled with grief. She stumbled over to the window and looked out. The lake was dark, cloaked in thick fog. She could barely make out the light down at the dock now. Sometimes the fog was suffocating. As if she was drowning.
Ruth closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. Anna Collins. Had the name sounded familiar? She couldn’t be sure. Had Big Jim mentioned the woman on one of his good days before he died? She shook her head, looking again out at the lake. Jonathan was right about one thing—she seemed to be losing her memory. Not like Big Jim had. In the end, he wouldn’t have been able to remember how to sit or lie down. Fortunately, a stroke had taken him before the Alzheimer’s had.
Ruth shuddered, hugging herself. Still, she had no problem remembering how her husband had often not made any sense when he talked.
She didn’t want to think about Big Jim, but how could she not think about Jack after that woman’s visit?
A sob escaped Ruth’s lips. She clamped them shut, covering her mouth with her hand. She shouldn’t have stayed here at the lake house. She should have gone back to Virginia to the house there. But Jonathan spent most of his time there when he wasn’t in Washington, D.C., following in his father’s footsteps. She was better off here.
She touched the window glass. Here, she felt closer to Jack. Both he and Big Jim were buried here. Jim had bought the island, built her this huge, beautiful house and brought her back here as his young bride. She’d lived the life of a princess, blessed with two sons and a powerful political husband who’d provided her with luxuries as well as influence. She was envied and reviled and she’d loved it that way, she thought with a rueful smile.
But now Big Jim was gone and Jonathan had aspirations that far exceeded his father’s. If Jonathan had his way, he’d be more than a senator from the state of Washington: he’d live one day in the White House.
Jack couldn’t have cared less about any of that. He found politics boring and acquiring wealth just as dull. But Jonathan…She’d seen the way he’d picked up where Big Jim had left off, cultivating the contacts he would need. Ruth wondered how much of it was to show Big Jim, even in his grave, that Jonathan was the better son. All she knew was that she pitied anyone who got in Jonathan’s way.
Reaching into her pocket, Ruth took out the scrap of paper the Collins woman had shown her. The writing on it was nearly illegible. She turned it over in her fingers and saw the return address. Gillian Sanders, attorney-at-law, Seattle.
Anna Collins had been disappointed when no one here at the house had heard from this Gillian Sanders or about a hit-and-run accident.
Ruth shook her head. The woman obviously was misinformed along with being—what had Jonathan called her? Delusional.
If Ruth strained she could almost make out the words. Would Jonathan have any reason to meet with the attorney? But even if it were true, he certainly wouldn’t meet her at a rest stop on the edge of town at night. Unless…She stared down at the note. Unless he hadn’t wanted anyone to know.
She heard the elevator. Jonathan. Hurriedly she shoved the note back into her pocket. “Yes?” she said to the light tap at her door.
“If you have a moment, Mother.”
Jonathan was the last person she wished to talk to right now, but she walked to the door, unlocked it and said, “Come in, Jonathan.”
He frowned. “Locking your door, Mother? Really.”
He stepped in, looking around as if he hadn’t expected to find her alone.
“If you’re looking for Pet, I sent her away.”
He frowned at the broken vase on the floor. “Can’t you show her just a little kindness, Mother?” He sounded weary.
“It’s late, Jonathan. You wanted something?” She regretted her words, as well as her impatience with her elder son, worse her inability to love him the way she had Jack.
His expression hardened. “I want to know about that woman. What did she say to you?”
“The same thing she said to you and Pet. She thought her friend had contacted us about a hit-and-run accident. As you said, she was mistaken.”
“You said she told you she’d seen Jack at the bottom of the lake,” he reminded her.
Ruth waved a hand. “Dr. Brubaker told you. She was sick, burning up with a fever. Anyone could see that she was delirious.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Then you aren’t upset?”
She raised her chin, her gaze locking with her son’s. Lying came so easily. Especially to Jonathan. “I haven’t given it another thought since clearly her claim was ridiculous. We all know that Jack is dead.”
Jonathan seemed to relax. “Well, if you hear from her or she tries to come back out here, I insist you call the police and have nothing more to do with her. I have to go back to Washington on business. I don’t like leaving you and Pet here alone.”
Ruth laughed. “We have live-in staff. We’ve never been alone here.”
“You know what I mean,” he pressed.
“We’ll be fine.”
“And please, try to be a little nicer to Pet. After all, she was Jack’s wife.”
“He would have been divorced from her if he’d lived another week.”
“Well, he didn’t, Mother.” He limped more when he was upset. Or irritated.
She watched him move toward the door, irritated herself. Jonathan seemed to have forgotten that this was her house, that he was the guest, not her.
