The abdominal roller had weights on it. Mine didn’t. So I pried all of them off that would come off and positioned myself on my back, head on the ab roller, knees bent and feet on the floor. I rolled up and felt the burn. Oh yeah, babe. I varied my leg and arm positions for a total of a hundred reps. I downed three little paper cups of water from the cooler.
Oh shoot. That was a really stupid thing I did. Yesterday, checking my answering machine messages using the hotel phone. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Donna, what got into you? Well, I wasn’t exactly schooled in running from the law. Now they could track me down. Who knew what other traps Dick had set for me and how many cops were dirty on this? He and Fawn had probably made sure that the police were looking for me as the prime suspect for the arson and the counterfeiting. And who would believe me? I should probably get out of here as soon as possible.
I rode the service elevator up to the seventh floor and entered my room. I had to take a shower. Who knew when the next one would come? It didn’t take long to pack. I wrote “Thank you, Maid” on a note and folded it over two one-dollar bills. I placed this on the desk along with the room key. I followed the video checkout instructions on the TV and shut it off.
I thought about slipping out the back door around the pool and out to the boardwalk. But darn it, I still wanted to find Momma. And that meant I had to find the old geezer hop. He’d told Momma where to find me. He was her annulled husband and lifelong lover, so he more than likely could lead me to her. That was, if she hadn’t told him to ignore me. I trotted down seven flights of stairs and made my way to the lobby.
Oh man. This was like a stupid predictable TV show. There were two uniformed coppers at the registration desk. They were asking for Chloe Payne. That was the name I used to check in under since I had her credit card. So they were looking for Momma. They thought Momma was registered here and that she called my house last night.
Well, I wasn’t a tall eighty-three-year-old, so I would just mosey on out. Oh dag nabbit. The cops turned around. Okay, good it was not the same desk clerk that had checked me in. I smiled at the fellas and then proceeded over to the bell stand.
I felt a jab to my left shoulder blade. I threw my hands up in the air. I felt an arm wrap around me.
“Didn’t mean to frighten you, hon. Are you ready to sail away with me?”
I turned and looked. It was geezer hop. “Oh am I glad to see you. Come on. The heat’s on.”
“It’s not that hot out yet. Only about seventy-three this morning.”
“The cops are lookin’ for Chloe.” I pointed.
“Oh. Don’t worry, they won’t find her.”
“Why won’t they find her? You sound pretty sure of yourself, Mike.”
He gave me a surprised look. “No time for questions right now. Come on, hook a wing.” He crooked his elbow.
I grabbed on to the shaky arm and we promenaded out the revolving door. An old green Dodge pickup was curbside. He opened the passenger door.
“Hop in.”
I did. So did he. It took him a few tries to get the horses running. The déjà vu-ish sensation rushed over me.
I knew this truck. From the bakery. In 1945. In my dream. Mike had gone inside Paddy Cakes Bakery where Momma rented a room.
He stuck his right hand out. “Mike Taurus.”
I shook it. “I know… Donna Payne.”
We let go, he made a turn.
“I’m Chloe Payne’s daughter.”
“I’m her lover.”
“You got nerves, mister, meeting Momma here for years. She was a married woman.”
“We used to be married, your momma and I, before she even met your daddy.”
We didn’t talk any more until we arrived at the park.
He grinned and coughed. The cough didn’t sound good. Something rattled in him.
“Well, here we are.”
I slammed the door and followed his unsteady gait down to the dock. I cringed as I watched him jump into a small gray metal fishing boat with a motor on the back. He offered his hand to me.
I grabbed it and gingerly hopped in. More or less. I strapped on an old orange life vest. He untied the vessel from the piling and started her up. He obeyed the no-wake zone and then kicked her into full speed ahead. This threw me backward, grabbing out at the sides of the boat. What was I thinking getting into a boat with my mother’s lover? Eww. What an icky thought. No wonder she always had a glow to her when she returned from her health spa trips.
I fumbled with my life jacket as Mike Taurus navigated southeastward, in between Virginia Key and Key Biscayne. Penetrating the Atlantic Ocean, the water became deeper teal. Small islands dotted the mauve-shrouded horizon.
Arriving at a dilapidated dock, Taurus tied the boat off on a piling, threw my things onto the weathered decking and climbed out. I peeled the life vest off. He reached for my hand, assisted me up.
As we walked the short distance up to the only structure on the island, a modest turquoise bungalow, Mike cleared his throat. “I met Chloe on a mission in Pennsylvania. I fell in love with her from that very first encounter. I didn’t see her again until Miami when she was all tangled up in that counterfeiting debacle with Blandings. When I found out he’d raped her and she was pregnant, I made sure she knew she wouldn’t have to live in shame. I got a marriage license and tried to marry her before the babies were born but things didn’t work out. Then I lost my mind and she thought I’d abandoned her. She was kidnapped and taken to Bermuda for a money drop. When she got away and we were reunited, we got married in a hurry. Had our little honeymoon right here in this house.”
“So Hundred Dollar Bill was the father of her… Did you say babies?”
“Twins. I was there when they were stillborn.”
Oh poor Momma. What an awful price to pay in the line of duty.
“Unfortunately, there was a rule against nepotism. The Secret Service would not allow two agents to be married. They forced us to get an annulment. But I have never for one moment not been in total love with your mother. We found a way to make it work. Secret meetings for one week every year. She’s my dream girl.”
Poor Momma and Mike. Not being allowed to be married. It wasn’t fair at all. At least Momma had loved Mike. Not like Daddy.
We said goodbye and Mike told me he’d be back later. He returned to the boat. I walked up the three wooden steps to the gingerbread porch.
I blinked my eyes, processing the pieces of the puzzle. How did I feel about Momma now, knowing this new information? I had this pristine good-girl image of her my whole life. And now I found out she was just an ordinary woman like me. With desires and needs and some pretty rotten flaws too.
I knocked on the orange door. I knocked again. No answer. I tried the knob. It turned. I gently shoved the door open and looked inside.
The shotgun-style carpenter’s house was twenty-five feet square. Stepping into the living room, I liked it right away. The whitewashed bead board walls were adorned with botanical prints and candle sconces. A curtainless window overlooked the Atlantic Ocean. The wide, pine plank floors were immaculate. Seating for four was provided by an oxblood leather sofa with gold nail heads and a matching round tub chair, similar to the ones at Little Mount Vernon. My gaze moved around the perimeter to a globe on a wooden stand, a green two-level end table, a square coffee table and a short bookcase filled with colorful leather-bound books.
I wandered around. There was a small bedroom situated in the front of the house. The kitchen was caddy cornered to the living room. The rear bedroom was a little larger than the one in the front of the house. The bathroom overlooked the backyard.
“Momma?”
No answer. Oh God, not again. Little Mount Vernon revisited. An empty house with no Momma to be found.
I ventured into the rear bedroom. I walked over to the desk under a window. I glanced out back at the sunflowers and ten-inch yellow hibiscus blossoms. Momma always did love flowers. Taught me to love them too. I glanced down at the typewr
iter. Feeling a little naughty, I read the paper in the carriage.
Sean said, “Time to douse the inferno.”
He leaned down. She stretched upward. Their lips barely brushed. He teased with gentle little whispering kisses. She placed her hand behind his neck and yanked him closer. Helen felt the rough prickle of his new beard, not fully grown in. But it was a pleasurable little pain as he opened his mouth fuller. His tongue flickered hers on top, underneath and on the sides.
Waves lapped around their legs. The tide buried their feet. They staggered in the wet sand. Helen heard a sizzling noise as Sean closed his mouth for one last, soft kiss. She opened her eyes and noticed the tide had extinguished the fire.
I flipped over the stack of manuscript pages neatly stacked on the floor. The title page read Make Believe Island by Barbara Midnight, a.k.a. Michael Allen Taurus.
I smiled. Oh my goodness. He was a romance writer. How about that?
I replaced everything just as I’d found it and decided to walk around the island, looking for Momma.
I walked west along the shoreline. I noted some movement near a grove of mangrove trees about a hundred yards inland. I hiked over. Nothing. I shielded my eyes from the sun and threw my head back. I spied an old lookout tower, so I headed toward it. I found Momma along the way. She was placing sunflowers on two graves.
“Hello, Momma.”
“What are you doin’ here?”
“I came to see you.”
“Why?”
“I need to understand. Understand you. You can’t just run out on me like you did. You’re my mother. I want you to come home with me.”
“This is my home.”
“Why did you run out and leave me at the hotel?”
“I saw two uniforms over at the desk.”
“The cops?”
“Yes. The gift shop carries the Washington Post. I know I’m wanted for arson.”
“But why would you think those particular cops were looking for you? They could have just been casually chatting with the clerk.”
She glared at me indignantly. “I am a retired law enforcement officer. Don’t you dare tell me my instincts are wrong.”
“I’m sorry, Momma, I didn’t mean to insult you. As a matter of fact, I overheard them talking. They were looking for you.” I had no idea if it was the same two cops Momma had seen yesterday in the lobby, my back had been to the desk. Too much time had passed. Perhaps she was right. After all, she was the experienced government agent.
“But why would you run? You have been here the whole time. You couldn’t have set fire to Little Mount Vernon. Why run away from the cops if you are innocent?”
“Child, I’ve always had to run from the law and I’ve always been innocent. I have been framed for murder and counterfeiting in the forties. If not for Mike and my good-girl reputation back at the White House, I probably would have been sent to the electric chair. Just because a person is innocent does not mean they should stick around and explain. Bad guys have a way of spinning your words into their webs of deceit.”
“I’ve been framed for counterfeiting and arson too, Momma. By Dick Fiddler. He stole the counterfeit money that I stole from Perry.”
“Dickie? Shirley’s kid?”
“I guess so.”
“Tough break.”
“What?”
“Sorry you followed in my footsteps. I hope things work out okay for you.”
“You won’t help me?”
“I’m tired, Oh-Donna. Let an old woman die in peace.”
“Die? You aren’t dying, Momma.”
“My work is more than done. It’s time I finally lived my life for my own happiness. With Mike.”
“Momma, why didn’t you tell me about Mike?”
“None of your business.”
“My momma living a double life is none of my business?” I huffed in exasperation.
“Don’t you judge me, young lady. Don’t you judge another until you walk a mile in her moccasins. My grandmother was a Cherokee, you know.”
“No, I don’t. How could I? You never told me.”
I read the headstones.
Baby Girl Lambert May 5, 1945–May 5, 1945 Born too soon. The other was etched Baby Boy Lambert May 5, 1945–May 5, 1945 Born too soon.
“Oh my God, Momma. I’m so sorry. Stillborn twins. How did you ever go on?”
“The little girl in my soul died with them.”
My hands flew over my mouth. Teardrops spilled. I tried to reach out to her. She trudged away.
I followed. “I’m so sorry, Momma.”
She didn’t flinch when I wrapped my arm around her and walked beside her down the path, back to the beach. Of course my curiosity wouldn’t let it go.
“Momma, do you know—did they catch Bill Blandings after he did this to you?” My mate had said that Bill got punished all right.
“Mike took care of Hundred Dollar Bill. Not only did that man rape me, he also murdered the babies he’d impregnated me with. Poisoned me with ground-up castor beans and corn cockle seeds. Put it in the doughnuts at Paddy Cakes Bakery. Six other ladies also lost their babies because of that evil man.”
“Are you very sure he’s dead?”
“Mike took justice into his own hands. Bill is dead. My babies are dead. Okay? Drop it, Oh-Donna.”
I did. We shuffled speechlessly toward the sea. I supported her arm. Or rather, Momma grabbed onto me for steadiness. She’d developed palsy since I last saw her on Christmas Eve. Her head shook.
We began walking toward the bungalow. “Momma, why don’t you sit in one of the rockers on the porch and I’ll go in and make you a drink?”
“That would be nice.”
I left her on the porch and scooted into the kitchen. I spun around. No refrigerator. I spotted a cooler in the corner. I opened it and removed a bottle of water. The ice had all melted around it but it felt slightly chilled. I twisted the top off and handed it to Momma.
“Thank you.”
There were still so many questions left unanswered. But Momma would not give any answers willingly. At least not if I asked her point-blank. “Momma, I want you to come and live with me.”
She took a long pull. Water dribbled down her chin. She wiped it with the back of her gnarled hand. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. Come on and live with me. It’ll be fun. We can play rummy and watch Jeopardy and you can make big pots of your famous vegetable soup.”
“No, Oh-Donna.”
“Why not?”
“Because my place is here. With Mike. We don’t have that long left. I should never have wasted my lifetime. I didn’t do anything to change the course of the world. I could’ve made him happy though.”
“What are you saying? My life would’ve been so different then. If you hadn’t divorced Mike, I would’ve grown up in Florida. On this island. Sweet. And Perry wouldn’t have been my half-brother and you never would have adopted Tammy. I would have been a spoiled only child. Oh wait. No, I wouldn’t be me.”
“Sure you would.”
“No, ’cause I’m only half your girl. I’m half Daddy’s girl.” I was baiting her to see if she would admit I had a different father.
“If only it were that simple… Calculate, Donna. You’re born in May and I’ve been spending the first week of every August with Mike.”
“Momma, Nathan Payne isn’t my father, is he?”
“Of course he’s your father. He raised you.”
“Oh.” Perhaps Uncle Howie was playing with my mind just like Daddy had. I so wanted to not be a Payne. I sighed.
“But you were conceived in love. Mike doesn’t know. I couldn’t tell him.”
“Mike doesn’t know what?”
“That he’s your father.”
“But you just said—”
“Nathan raised you as his own. He promised me he would. He gave you a good life. He was a brilliant man, your daddy.”
“But he wasn’t.”
“As g
enes go, no.” She swallowed another long pull of water and wiped her chin.
“My marriage to Nathan is what we called a marriage of convenience. It was 1963. I was pregnant and unmarried. I would have lost my job. The movie star had divorced him. He was lonely and seemed like such an upstanding man, so when he offered, I accepted.”
Wow. Daddy was that big of a man to marry a woman pregnant by another man and raise her child. “How come you didn’t like him?”
Momma rolled her teary eyes. “At first, Nathan was a constant reminder of what I could have done, should have done. Every day I longed for Mike. But I was too deep into the mission—into our blended family. I couldn’t walk away from his children. They needed a mother. I never actually hated Nathan, not until I found out—why he really married me.”
“Why did he?”
I waited. She didn’t continue. I pressed her. “How did you meet anyhow?”
“Originally? He delivered my twins. Then I ended up in the ER with bilateral ovarian cysts, gangrene had set in on one side. He was the gynecologist on duty that night. He saved my life.”
I remembered that from my dream.
“And then he used me as a guinea pig for his research. He didn’t tell me that while he was in there, he transplanted another woman’s right ovary into me. He led me to believe that he removed my right ovary and tube and he was only able to save part of my left ovary and it might not produce eggs.”
“Momma! In the freezer down in the basement, I found a Tupperware container with an ovary in it!”
“He was a weird one.”
“Well, how’d you find out about the transplant? Your body must’ve rejected it immediately?”
“No, the old genius was extremely brilliant and lucky. I didn’t reject it. Don’t ask me how. My blood type must’ve matched the donor’s perfectly.”
“This is like science-fiction, Momma. Transplants in the sixties?”
“He’d been practicing on rhesus monkeys. Nathan really was a genius, you know. It’s too bad he went blind. He could have changed the world for the better. Had he had the chance.”
The Immaculate Deception Page 26
