Joshua replaced the gun behind his back, walking slowly toward Samuel. “You do that, old man. Right now there are three slugs in police custody who are willing to say anything to keep off death row.”
Samuel’s smile vanished. “You sick bastard. You’d make up any story to discredit me.”
Joshua took several more steps toward Samuel. “You only got half of it right because I am your bastard, Samuel. But you’re the sick one.”
Martin sprang to his feet. “Enough of the name-calling,” he warned quietly. His gaze swung to Joshua. “You have five minutes to tell what you’ve uncovered. And, Dad, you’ll keep quiet until Josh is finished. The only thing I want to hear from you is the sound of your breathing.”
“Martin, get him out of here,” Samuel demanded.
“Father!” The single word exploded from Martin. “Parris, Regina and I have gone through hell for six days and it’s going to end now. Tonight,” he said slowly. He retook his seat and closed his eyes. “Talk, Joshua.”
Joshua sat down on the sofa facing Samuel and M.J., turning slightly toward Parris. “You were right about the landscaper, Parris. He was hired to watch you. But he was only one link in the chain. Samuel managed to keep his hands clean while he hired someone to do his dirty work. The man responsible for hiring the landscaper was the one who contacted Owen Lawson. Your ex-husband never knew that the information he’d offered would be used to blackmail you. And when you were given the same amount of money as your divorce settlement Samuel hoped you’d think it was Lawson who was blackmailing you.
“The chain grew longer when the landscaper hired a hit man who had a pang of conscience when he discovered you were pregnant. He had no compunction about killing adults, but he drew the line when it came to babies.”
Parris breathed quickly through parted lips, trying to slow down her runaway pulse. “What about the sniper and the snake?”
“Your stalker was responsible for both. He knew every move you made because Samuel passed along the information about Martin’s campaign schedule.”
“And the drugging?” she asked breathlessly.
“Samuel’s personal flunky took care of that. He was at the fund-raiser. He hired the waiter and when Samuel brought you over to the bar that was the signal to give you a drink in a glass that had been set aside just for you.”
“And Regina’s kidnapping?” she whispered.
“That was your stalker’s idea. His gambling debts were adding up and his bookie was putting pressure on him. Samuel never would’ve given the order to kidnap his own granddaughter. Correct me if I’m wrong, Samuel.”
Martin watched his father’s face during the interchange between Joshua and Parris. There was no surprise, no anger, no uneasiness. He sat, holding M.J.’s hand, eyes closed.
“Why, Father?” Martin was surprised at his own lack of emotion. It was as if something wouldn’t permit him to feel anger. He hadn’t wanted to believe Joshua, but before his father said a word in his own defense he knew Joshua had spoken the truth.
“She was going to take you away from ColeDiz,” Samuel said, his eyes still closed. “All of my life I worked to make ColeDiz an empire, and when you met her you wanted to walk away from all of it.”
“Parris had nothing to do with my leaving ColeDiz,” Martin countered.
Samuel opened his eyes. “She was just like Teresa. She did to you what Teresa did to me. Teresa made me love her. I didn’t want to love her, but I couldn’t help it.”
Martin stared at Joshua, remembering the stories he had heard about his father seducing a young woman who’d worked for him. When Teresa Maldonado discovered she was carrying Samuel Cole’s child, he paid her to marry a stranger and sent her away so she wouldn’t remind him of his adulterous affair. Seventeen years later she contacted her child’s biological father. She needed his influence to help Joshua get into West Point.
“For seventeen years she never came to me to ask for anything,” Samuel continued in a singsong tone. “Nothing for herself, but only for her boy.” His eyes grew larger, giving him the look of someone crazed. “I hated her because she didn’t need me for herself.”
Joshua turned away, rather than look at his father. “It galled me that she had to come to you because I knew what it took for her to ask you for a favor.”
“I loved her, Joshua,” Samuel mumbled. “Believe it or not I loved her. Just like Martin. He told me he loved Parris when he only knew her for two months. But she didn’t know I had her followed and knew every place she visited and every person she met. It was so nice with her gone, but then she came back.” Lowering his head, he buried his face in his hands. “I would never harm Regina. She was too much like my M.J. My beautiful, beautiful M.J.”
Martin studied his mother’s face, noting the lack of surprise on her aristocratic features. His eyes widened with realization. “Why didn’t you tell me Dad was behind this?”
M.J. raised her chin. “I couldn’t. Sammy is my husband, and a wife doesn’t betray her husband.”
M.J.’s casual rationalization pulled Parris out of her stunned trance. “You sought to absolve him of his guilt by remaining silent while he tried to have me killed?”
The green lights flashed in her eyes. “I should hate you, but I can’t because I don’t want to end up with hate poisoning me the way it’s done to you and Sammy. You don’t have to worry about my reminding you of Joshua’s mother because I’m leaving this house. Only death will bring me back.”
She rose from a tapestry-covered chair in regal elegance and walked to the door. She stared back over her shoulder. “Joshua, I want you to take me to Jamaica in the morning. The sooner Regina and I are away from this place, the better it will be for both of us.”
She missed the cold fury on Martin’s face when she issued her request. Her hand was steady as she placed it on the door. “Doomed is the man who builds his empire by injustice and enlarges it by dishonesty.” The door slid open and she was gone, Joshua following her.
Martin blinked once, then his wife vanished from sight. He sat in shocked silence, unable to believe all that had happened. It pained him to look at his parents.
“You’ve done to me what my most bitter enemy has been unable to do.” His voice was low and deadly. “You’ve still lost me. With or without Parris.” Rising to his feet, he walked out of the living room.
Martin stared at Parris’s back. “You’re leaving me.”
“I’m leaving Florida, Martin.” She turned to face him. “There’s no way I can stay here. Not now.”
“You can’t run away.”
“I’m not running away. I’m only going away for a while. I have to give myself time to let go of the pain.” She sank down to the large bed where she’d shared her first Christmas with Martin. “I don’t hate your parents. But if I stay I will. Regina is to never know what they’ve done to her, to me or to Joshua. The Coles are the only family she has and I know how important it is to have a family.”
Martin stared at the woman he loved with all of his being. Her leaving him was killing him. And he was frightened. More frightened than he had ever been in his life, but he knew she was right. She couldn’t stay.
“I won’t stop you, Parris. But remember that I love you.”
She nodded and turned away. Martin stared at her back, then walked out of the bedroom to find a place where he could grieve in private. The tears filling his eyes overflowed as he mourned in silence.
Martin watched Parris as she stood ramrod straight, waiting for the pilot’s signal to board. He tightened his grip on his daughter’s hand, refusing to look down for fear of losing his composure.
A group of reporters and photographers stood behind a fence, watching his every gesture. They waited for a clue which would reveal why Martin Cole was putting his wife and daughter on a private jet scheduled to land on an island in the Caribbean.
“We’re being cleared for takeoff, buddy.”
Martin continued to stare at Parris. “Take care
of my girls, Josh.”
Joshua nodded. “As soon as I see them settled I’ll be back.”
Martin exhaled, dreading the inevitable. Bending down, he swung Regina up in his arms, flashing a forced smile. “Are you going to live up to your promise to take care of your mother for me?”
Regina’s dark eyes crinkled in laughter. “I’m not going to lose this bet, Daddy.” She giggled when he rubbed his nose on her smooth cheek.
Martin tightened his grip on her body. “I love you so much, cupcake.”
Regina squeezed his neck. “I love you too, Daddy.”
He forcibly pried the child’s arms from his neck and handed her to Joshua. One, two, three, four, five—he counted the steps that took him to Parris’s side.
She was appearing in her last performance as the candidate’s wife. Today she wore a white linen and silk blend suit with a single-buttoned hip length jacket over a slim skirt. The sun caught the fiery light of the emerald and diamonds earrings he had given her for Christmas and the matching necklace he had given her for her birthday.
Parris turned, mistaking his closed expression for indifference, and in that instant she would not permit her pain and longing to show. She managed a demure smile, successfully controlling the tremors coursing throughout her body.
“Let’s make it look good for the press, Martin. We must not tarnish our image as the perfect…”
The harsh plunder of his mouth stopped her words and her breath. His lips and the bite of his fingers on her shoulders revealed his anger. He’d agreed to let her go because he was powerless to stop her, and not for any other reason.
She pulled out of his punishing grip and walked quickly to the plane. Joshua and anyone close enough to view her face interpreted the tears staining her cheeks as a sign of sorrow, not pain.
Joshua took her arm, helping her up the steps and into the aircraft. Not once did Parris look back—for if she had the expression on Martin’s face would have told her what he was unable to verbalize at that moment.
Epilogue
July. August. September. October. November. It had finally come. And it was gone. The election was over and there were no winners. At least not for Parris.
She stood on the beach, facing the clear waters of the Caribbean, arms raised to catch the warm breezes caressing her face. Her unbound hair lifted, brushing her cheeks.
So many things had changed in the short time since she’d come: Regina had turned ten and Joshua felt comfortable enough to reveal his childhood.
Raising her face to the sky, she closed her eyes, reveling in the peace she discovered. She wanted to stay in Jamaica forever.
“But not without Martin,” she whispered to the wind.
She continued her stroll down the beach. She wanted to push all thoughts of Martin out of her mind, but she’d been unsuccessful. His calls every morning and every night would not allow her to forget him. However, as the days changed, as did her body, she carried his memory and his life.
The deep violet and navy blues gave way to streaks of lavender, then mauve until the pale pink and light hues of blue brightened the heavens, heralding a new day.
Birds sailed the wind currents, seeking early morning morsels. Parris turned to retrace her soft impressions in the sand, seeking out her own breakfast.
She was so involved in placing her bare feet in the already-made impressions before the incoming tide swept them away, erasing the evidence forever, that she did not see the dark figure looming before her until it was too late.
Their gazes met and locked as her heart turned over in joy. She tried denying that she cared, she loved him, but his very nearness said differently. Not once since she boarded the plane had she stopped loving him.
She tore her stunned gaze away from his graying dark curling hair, lifting gently from broad shoulders. He was so much like the first time they had met she thought her mind had conjured him up. His hair was long, his face clean-shaven and he was dressed entirely in black.
Martin’s emotions were spinning out of control. His hungry eyes moved over the straightened hair tossed about her face by the wind, and the amber and green of her large eyes in a delicately sculpted face. His gaze dropped to the fullness of her breasts, and lower still to the swelling against the fabric of her white cotton dress.
He stood poised, hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, waiting for her to make the first overture. Turning, Parris moved away from him and continued walking.
Martin fell in step beside her. He smiled, acknowledging her challenge. She was not going to make it easy for him. “Good morning, Mrs. Cole.”
“Is it really?”
“Of course it is,” he replied, stealing a glance at her enchanting profile. “I’m back and we can get on with our lives now.”
She stopped, frowning. “Just like that, Martin. You come back when you damn well please and expect me to jump to your command. Sorry, mister. Not this time.”
She was unaware of the tempting picture she made as the rising sun bathed her in a glow of pink and gold. Martin reached over and laid his outspread fingers over the slight roundness of her belly. He ignored the rush of breath from her parted lips. His black eyebrows lifted slightly.
“I spoke to you twice every day and you never told me. Were you going to have this one and also not tell me?”
She pushed his hand away. “If you’d been with me I would’ve told you the day it was confirmed. All I wanted was a word that you cared about me more than the power you’ve been chasing.”
Reaching out, he caught her hand. “Every time I spoke to you I wanted you to tell me that you needed me; you needed me more than I needed the power. All you had to say was come and I would’ve walked away, telling everyone that personal problems wouldn’t permit me to continue as a candidate.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I couldn’t do that to you. It had to be your decision, Martin, not mine. We must always allow the other the freedom to be what we want to be. With you it was becoming a politician.”
Martin sank down to the soft white sand, pulling her down with him. He settled her on his lap, a hand cradling her belly. Burying his face in her hair, he sighed heavily.
“I lost and Eliot Howard lost,” he said quietly. He smiled. “I believe Russell Baker will be a good governor.”
Shifting, she stared up at him. New lines were etched around his heavy-lashed black eyes. “What happens now, Martin?”
He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Are you referring to my brief affair with politics?”
“Yes,” she sighed softly.
“It’s over, my darling.” He looked over her head, staring at the calm blue-green waters stretching out and touching the horizon. “Joshua has decided to try his hand in hotel management here in Ocho Rios and has asked me to become a partner. We’ve talked about putting up a string of lovely little bungalows in tropical colors of pink, yellow and blue with red-tiled roofs. Do you think you’d be interested in decorating the interiors?”
Her pulse raced like the fluttering wings of a delicate butterfly. Her sparkling clear brown eyes searched his familiar features, unable to hide the naked love she felt for him. Lowering her head, she gave him a seductive look through her lashes.
“I think that can be arranged.”
A long brown finger tilted her chin. “This time it’s for real, darling.”
It was later, much later when they finally returned to the house to make plans for their future.
Martin was unable to dispel the urge to celebrate his final victory. He’d accepted the ultimate challenge and won—as a candidate for love.
About the Author
Rochelle Alers has been hailed by readers and booksellers alike as one of today’s most prolific and popular African American authors of romance and women’s fiction.
With more than sixty titles and nearly two million copies of her novels in print, Ms. Alers is a regular on the Waldenbooks, Borders and Essence bestseller lists, regularly chosen by Black
Expressions Book Club, and has been the recipient of numerous awards, including the Gold Pen Award, the Emma Award, Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing, the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award and the Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award.
She is a member of the Iota Theta Zeta Chapter of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., and her interests include gourmet cooking and traveling. She has traveled to Europe, and countries in North, South and Central America. Her future travel plans include visits to Hong Kong and New Zealand. Ms. Alers is also in accomplished in knitting, crocheting and needlepoint. She is currently taking instruction in the art of hand quilting. Oliver, a toy Yorkshire terrier has become the newest addition to her family. When he’s not barking at passing school buses, the tiny dog can be found sleeping on her lap while she spends hours in front of the computer. A full-time writer, Ms. Alers lives in a charming hamlet on Long Island.
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