JanesPrize

by Margrett Dawson

  “What do you keep looking at?” Annice asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that. You’ve hardly listened to a word I’ve said.” Annice swiveled around and followed the line of Jane’s gaze. “Is it the woman with the gorgeous ring? Do you know her?”

  Jane felt a shiver down her spine. Trust Annice to notice the very thing that proved it. The woman lifted her cup once more and the light sparkled on the massive diamond cluster on her left hand. From where Jane sat it looked just like the ring the late Mrs. Newland had worn in the family portrait in the house.

  She swallowed against a dry throat. “I thought I’d seen her somewhere before but I’m probably wrong. I’m always seeing people that remind me of someone else. Now, what were you saying we need to bring for Henry?”

  When Annice left to return to work, Jane stayed on, watching the woman, her thoughts in turmoil. Was she going crazy? Had Pierce influenced her mind to such an extent that she was seeing ghosts everywhere?

  She remembered the touch on Annice’s neck that they had attributed to a cobweb in the dusty old house. But supposing it hadn’t been a spider web? Supposing it had been Pierce’s stepmother and she’d wanted to come back to life? Would she only have to touch someone? If she did, and it worked, would that be all she wanted? Maybe she wanted to stop Pierce from making a new life for himself…

  The woman rose and picked up a fancy straw bag from the seat beside her. Jane stood. What to do? Should she follow? She had nothing but a feeling of premonition to justify her fears.

  While she hesitated, the woman left some money on the table and stepped toward the door. Jane grabbed her purse. At least she could watch which way she went, see if she got into a car.

  She reached the doorway barely thirty seconds after the woman and stood on the threshold, scanning the street. The mystery woman was nowhere to be seen.

  On her way back to the apartment Jane turned over in her mind all the possible ramifications of what she thought she had seen. It was patently ridiculous to think that the wicked stepmother had brought herself back to life. If she had done it by touching Annice why hadn’t she materialized right then and there in the same way Pierce had done?

  Could it be because Jane had tackled Pierce in the middle of the murder scene? Had the murderer still been waiting around the mansion, unable to move on?

  Pierce had said that she would vanish once her victim had disappeared but he had admitted he wasn’t really sure.

  Anyway, she wasn’t even positive that the woman she’d seen was Pierce’s killer. Lots of people look somewhat alike and once you added the change of clothing and an active imagination you could come up with all kinds of fantasies.

  She would just keep an eye open around town and stay close to Pierce. She smiled to herself. That wouldn’t be hard even if it meant watching a few second-rate movies.

  She buzzed the apartment on her way into the building and stepped into the elevator. Thinking about Pierce set her heart racing. What would he have planned for her this time? They’d done the sheik and the slave girl last week…

  The elevator stopped on the second floor and the doors opened. Pierce stood there in a dark suit with a white shirt and a tie. He held a briefcase in his left hand. After a few seconds staring at him she recognized the glimmer of playful lust in his eyes. He stepped into the car, nodded then turned his back.

  “Which floor, madam?”

  “Top, please.”

  She feasted her eyes on the shape of his shoulders under the smooth fabric and her heart began a crazy tattoo.

  He whistled under his breath as the doors slid shut. “Do you live in this building?” he asked.

  She grinned. So the fantasy was to be two strangers. “A friend of mine lives here. I was hoping to see him.”

  “Ah! Lucky man.” Pierce slid a key into the lock of the elevator and the mechanism stopped with a whirring sound.

  He turned to her. “Sorry madam, there seems to be a fault. It looks as if we’re trapped.”

  “How long will it take to fix?”

  “How long will it take to make you come?” He put his briefcase on the floor and dropped his pants. He wore nothing underneath.

  “But I don’t know you,” she protested, entering into the spirit of the game.

  His eyes narrowed. “That is beside the point. The price of freedom is to let me fuck you.” He ran his hand down from her shoulder to her breast. She quivered under his touch. “Unless you want to press the alarm button.” His lips were close to hers and he spoke against her mouth. “Do you? Want to raise the alarm? Or do you want me inside you? Make up your mind before someone decides to call the janitor with his other key.”

  “I’ll pay the price,” she whispered and began to unbutton her waistband. “I’m wet already.”

  He pushed her against the back wall of the car and slid his hands around her waist, pushing her thin pants down her legs.

  “Floor or wall?” he whispered in her ear and fastened his lips on her mouth.

  She murmured something incomprehensible and felt him lift her. She wound her legs around his hips and his warm, pulsing cock slid into her hot wetness.

  Someone banged on the door of the elevator a floor above them. “Hey,” a voice shouted. “Are you okay in there?”

  She hid her face against Pierce’s shoulder to stifle her cries and her laughter.

  “We’re just fine,” Pierce called out. “We’ll have this done in a jiffy.”

  Jane felt the wave build and crest in her as Pierce convulsed, crushing her against the elevator wall.

  She felt the car shudder and slid away from him, pulling up her pants and retrieving her purse. Pierce straightened his clothing, adjusted his tie and picked up his briefcase. He turned the key back to its normal position and the elevator came back to life.

  On the top floor, their neighbor Mrs. Watkins was at her open door. “Oh, my dears,” she said. “Thank goodness you’re okay. You could have been in there for hours. Whatever would you have done?”

  “I’m sure we would have found something to occupy us,” Pierce replied with a straight face. “Did you call the emergency number?”

  “I was just about to when it started up again. But I’m going to call the management company and have them check it out. You can’t be too careful.”

  “Good thinking.” Pierce opened the door to their apartment and stood aside for Jane to go in.

  “Have a very good day, Mrs. Watkins.”

  He closed the door and they both leaned against it grinning like two naughty children.

  “Where did you get that key?”

  “It was hanging on a hook downstairs. I just borrowed it for a few minutes.”

  She shook her head. “You never cease to amaze me.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  It wasn’t until much later that she realized the question of the mysterious woman who looked like his stepmother had completely left her head.

  The next evening, Annice took them to meet Henry Galston. Henry turned out to be a charming rogue—quite different from Jane’s memory of him as the nerd with acne-prone skin and glasses. He wore a smart business suit and horn-rimmed spectacles, the only remnant of his teenage self that she recognized. But when he ushered them into his den, took off his glasses and loosened his fashionable silk tie, he became all sophisticated, manipulative bad boy. Annice was obviously besotted and Jane had to admit if she hadn’t had Pierce close by her side she might have done a bit of fantasizing herself.

  Henry asked for the passport photo. “For the driver’s license,” he said.

  “Jane will teach me to drive.” Pierce wiggled his eyebrows at her like Groucho Marx. “She’s a good teacher. Very interesting methods.”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “How long do you think the documents will take?” she asked Henry.

  “License, birth certificate, social security card, high school diploma. One credit card. Day after tomorrow. Unless there’s any
thing else you want?”

  “Like what?”

  “University degree, military service record. That might take a bit longer.”

  She looked at Pierce. “Do you?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll get the rest on my own steam.”

  She was pleased he didn’t want to coast on false information. She turned to Henry. “How do you do the hologram stuff? I thought that was foolproof.”

  “For fools maybe, but if you know what you’re doing you can duplicate anything. But I won’t tell you how. Trade secret.”

  “I understand.”

  They left Annice with Henry and returned to their apartment, ready to spend the next couple of days on a diet of CNN, horror movies and sensual rewards for good work.

  The following week they continued to practice Pierce’s cover story and the documents arrived from Henry. They looked perfect. Pierce now had a birthday, a place of birth and a credit rating.

  “Is it time to write a letter to your cousin?”

  “I think it is.”

  In the letter, Pierce introduced himself as the grandson of the man who’d disappeared and asked to be allowed to call.

  Within two days an answer came back instructing Pierce to present himself at the cousin’s house the following day at eleven.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?” Jane asked him.

  “Sure. Let’s do it.”

  They had scouted out the location of his cousin’s house and Jane drew up outside at exactly ten minutes before the hour.

  “Are you sure you want to go in alone?”

  “I think that’s best. Wish me luck.”

  “Luck and a good memory.” She touched him on the arm and kissed him on the cheek.

  “If I pull it off I’ll need a special reward.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I’ll think of something.”

  She watched him knock on the door and waited until he’d been ushered into the house then drove a short distance away for coffee. Suppose the cousin saw through him right way? Suppose Pierce’s mind went blank at a crucial moment? She ordered coffee to go and drove back to the house to wait. She couldn’t influence what was going on in there but it felt better to be close at hand.

  To her relief, Pierce wasn’t waiting outside.

  She parked across the street and a short way down the block, drank her coffee, fiddled with the radio. At least Pierce had gone into the house and all was quiet. She willed herself to relax and be patient.

  Chapter Twelve

  Pierce waited for Jane to pull away and took a few moments to look over the house. It was of a Cape Cod saltbox design and he found the style reassuring. So much of what he’d seen had been concrete and glass, especially in town, and very different from the surroundings he’d been used to. He liked the white clapboard and the shingled roof. He took it as a good omen that his unknown relative had chosen something well-tried and enduring. He hoped family ties and traditions were equally important to him. The bushes in front of the house were well trimmed, the flowerbeds neat and colorful. He took a deep breath as Jane’s car disappeared around the corner. This was his first big test and he’d wanted to face it on his own. Finding his way around town and making a few purchases in the stores had been good practice but basically trivial. This meeting would decide his future once and for all. He couldn’t blow it. Squaring his shoulders, he walked up the stone path to the house. The wooden door offered a choice of an oversized bell or a brass knocker in the shape of a whale. He chose the knocker and gave a sharp rap.

  The door opened to reveal a slim, erect man with sleek silver hair and merry blue eyes in a tanned face. The only clue to his age was a cane with a silver handle in his right hand.

  Pierce knew he was staring. He should have expected the family resemblance but seeing his cousin in the flesh took his breath away.

  The man hooked the cane over his arm and held out his hand. “Pierce, my boy, come along in. I’d have known you anywhere. I’m Alexander Newland. You’re the image of your grandfather at your age. It’s quite uncanny. Come, come.”

  He ushered Pierce into a sitting room at the back of the house. Large windows looked out over an immaculate lawn and towering beech trees cast a dappled shade.

  “Sit, sit,” said his cousin. “Would you like coffee or something stronger?”

  “Nothing, thank you.” Pierce sank into a wing armchair. “Forgive me, I’m finding it a bit overwhelming to meet someone from the family at last.”

  “Indeed, indeed.” Alexander poured a cup of coffee from a pot sitting on a side table and took one of the other chairs. “Let me look at you,” he said. “I always knew Pierce didn’t die, although I wouldn’t have put anything past that witch who called herself his stepmother. But I never understood why he never contacted me.”

  “I don’t know, sir. He didn’t talk much of his life in Maine. It was as if he drew a line under all the early years. I think he wanted to put it all behind him.” Pierce shifted in his seat to put one foot on the opposite knee and clasped his ankle.

  “More than likely. I still remember the ball games we went to. You know, there was one World Series game that I could still tell you ball by ball.” He shook his head. “I was a lonely little boy and your grandfather was good to me.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Pierce was beginning to find it hard to stay in persona. He remembered very clearly the same ball game and young Alex’s excitement when he got a souvenir baseball. He had to focus and not make any slips.

  “I still have the ball.”

  Pierce forced himself to appear ignorant. “How did you get that?”

  “Your grandfather took me into the dressing rooms after the game. I think he’d been to school with one of the officials. And we came out with one of the balls they’d actually used and which had scored the winning home run.”

  “Wow! That must be pretty valuable now.”

  “I wouldn’t sell it anymore than I was willing to sell the old house. Something told me to hang on to it and I was right.”

  “Indeed you were, sir.”

  Alexander put down his untouched coffee. “Now my will says that my executor is to try to find any heirs but it seems that won’t be necessary.”

  Pierce put his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You’ll need some proof…” he began.

  Alex waved a hand. “I’ll leave that to the legal types, I can see you’re a Newland. Even have the same mannerisms as your grandfather, although I don’t suppose you know that.”

  “What are they, sir?”

  “You sit the same way. Mind you, your grandfather always said it was more comfortable because it took the strain off an old football injury to his back. Did he ever mention it?”

  “Yes, I believe he did.”

  The old man chuckled. “You must have picked up the habit without realizing it.”

  “I guess I did.” Pierce laughed, although he felt a sadness as he contemplated all the years and the family he’d missed.

  “You know I never married.”

  “I heard that.”

  “Too busy enjoying life and making money. By the time I lifted my head from the ledger books it was too late. You know how young people think they’re immortal. There’s plenty of time, they say. Not true, even if you live as long as I have.” He fixed Pierce with a piercing blue stare. “Are you married?”

  Pierce put both feet on the ground. “No I—”

  “Don’t leave it too late like me. Enjoy business, do you?”

  “I do.”

  “Any good at it?”

  “Not bad.” Pierce prayed he wouldn’t ask for stock tips or details of his investments.

  “Making money isn’t everything. If you inherit from me you won’t need much. You can do what gives you pleasure.”

  “Good advice.”

  “You better believe it is. Do you have a young lady?”

  “Yes. Yes I do.”

  “Serious?”

  “Very serious for
me. She’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  “Pretty?”

  “More than pretty. She’s beautiful.”

  “Good, good.” The old man nodded his head. “But does she like you?” he asked with a grin.

  “She says she does. I believe her.”

  “Excellent. Bring her to see me. Not enough young people around anymore. I’m getting old and stodgy.”

  Alexander levered himself to his feet with the help of his cane. “You’ll forgive me but I have another appointment and then I’m going to talk to the lawyers. If they give the okay we’ll redo the will with your name. Expect to hear from them. That’s when you’ll need your paperwork.”

  He moved toward the door and Pierce stood to follow. At the front door, the old man put his arm around Pierce’s shoulders. “Don’t be a stranger.”

  Pierce swallowed a lump in his throat as he patted his cousin’s arm. “I’ll be back to see you soon. You take care.”

  At last Jane saw the front door open and Pierce appeared. He was nodding and smiling to someone inside and turned once on the steps to wave goodbye again. He turned toward the street, took the remaining steps in one leap then strode to the car.

  Jane hardly dared ask how it had gone but when he faced her with a smile she knew it had been okay.

  “He believed you?”

  “Every word.”

  Jane started the car and pulled away.

  “I’m to talk to the lawyers. He’s going to call them about his will.”

  “I thought he already left everything to heirs of the family.”

  “Right, but now he wants to put my name to it.” He folded his fingers over her hand on the wheel. “The house and everything will be mine, just as it was supposed to have been.”

  Jane shook her head. “Incredible. You did well.”

  “He was a sad old boy in a way. Full of life though. He said he was a lonely little boy and I think he was a lonely man too. He wants to meet you.”

  “He does?” Jane shot him a glance. “What did you tell him?”

  “He asked me if I was married and when I said no he asked if I had a young lady, as he put it. I told him the truth.”