by Dara Girard
Despite the luxury around her, Catherine sensed Helen’s anxiety even as they settled her son in bed for a nap.
“Please don’t leave here,” Helen said once she and Catherine were alone in the kitchen after Tytus had given her a tour and told her how to reach him. “Let me come with you. I can work for you. I am good. Please.”
“You’ll be all right.”
She clasped her hands together. “I am not a fine lady like you. I may anger him. Please, please, mah, I don’t know how to do dis.”
“There’s nothing you have to do,” Catherine said, not understanding her friend’s distress.
“You are dat man’s lady, no?”
Slowly, realization set in. Helen thought she was there to be the sexual property of Tytus. “No, I am not. And neither are you. You are here as a guest.”
Helen looked at her, uncertain. “In dis fine house? Me?”
“Yes, your days of servitude are over. You are safe now. His name is Tytus Carter and he is a good man. I wouldn’t leave you here otherwise.”
“You are a fine lady now.”
“Not yet. I nearly cost you your life before.”
“It was no your fault and de one who gave me baby, his end was bad-bad.”
“What happened?”
“His brother got in trouble again-again. Dey both gone soon after. Poof! Like smoke. Only a bottle of acid left. I heard a whisper that Chief took care.”
Catherine nodded, remembering Booker’s dream about a snake and the premonition that a terrible misfortune would befall him. The bastard was dead and Helen was free. That was justice and now she hoped to have a taste of some of her own.
58
The second time Joscelyn Payton showed up in her office, Vera was more confused than surprised. She greeted the younger woman feeling a sense of unease as she sat behind her desk and watched her. She wondered how close Evelyn was to her and why Joscelyn had decided to see her again. She wore a designer suit and an expression of deep concern. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this,” she said.
“That’s okay,” Vera replied, wondering why her apology didn’t sound sincere.
“It’s just that something has been bothering me and I thought you should be the first to know about it.”
“Go on,” she pressed when Joscelyn paused.
“It’s about Evelyn.”
Icy fear swept through her as she remembered the phone called she’d received years ago that Evelyn had been in an accident. She remembered taking the first flight available. The long anxious journey. “What about Evelyn? Has something happened to her?”
“No, no,” Joscelyn said quickly. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m afraid that Evelyn may be an imposter.”
“An imposter?”
“Yes, it’s possible that she really is a con artist named Catherine. Catherine lived off of others using her invented story of modern-day slavery or other disguises. I am not alone in my suspicions. Tytus Carter the man I’m seeing also believes she’s a woman he met in England who used to interpret dreams for money. It may be in your best interest to get another DNA test to make sure that she’s truly your daughter.”
“Someone has been wondering about Evelyn,” Vera told her husband over the phone the moment Joscelyn had left her office.
“Who?”
“Joscelyn Payton.”
“And why would it interest her?”
Vera gripped the phone. She was a doctor, used to acting calm and rational, but she felt neither at the moment. “I don’t know. She said she wanted to warn us.”
“Warn us?”
“She thinks Evelyn is a fraud. She even suggested we do another DNA test.”
“Do you think she’ll cause trouble?” Noah asked after a long pause.
“I don’t know. She’s never been particularly friendly with me before but said she was a friend of Evelyn and now she’s casting doubts about her and—”
“It’s going to be okay.”
“What if she confronts Evelyn? She might scare her away, make her start to doubt that she belongs to us and we could lose her.”
“Don’t worry my darling. I won’t let that happen.”
59
They knew.
Catherine had that sense the moment she entered the house and felt the tense overcast that filled the marbled halls. When she stepped into the sitting room and saw Vera and Noah speaking in low voices—Vera looking anxious and Noah resolute—Catherine knew something was wrong and could guess the reason why. They’d discovered the truth.
Joscelyn had gotten to them.
The fact that she hadn’t seen police cars waiting outside had to be a good omen. Perhaps they wanted to handle her deception quietly. She wouldn’t embarrass them, she would own up to her actions. They looked up at her with caution.
“Evelyn, please take a seat,” Noah said.
She knelt in front of them. “There’s no need. I have done you a great wrong.”
Noah leapt to his feet. “What are you doing? Get up. No daughter of mine—”
Daughter? He still thought she was his daughter? Joscelyn hadn’t gotten to them yet? Then why did they look so upset?
Vera walked up to her and helped Catherine to her feet. “We know you haven’t been yourself since Jason died.”
Catherine searched her mind wondering how to proceed. Should she tell them the truth before Joscelyn had a chance to?
“Has anyone spoken to you about us?” Noah asked.
So Joscelyn had gotten to them, at least that much was certain. She just didn’t know what she’d shared. “Yes, and clearly she’s spoken to you too. So you know I’m not—”
“Thinking rationally because you must be confused. So please don’t say another word.” His eyes begged her to stay silent. He knew what she was going to say, but didn’t want to hear the words. Refused to accept the truth.
She hung her head. She wouldn’t say the words, but she couldn’t stay. Those she cared about always suffered. “I must leave you and make my own way.”
“No.”
“I can’t take anything more from you.”
“You’ve taken nothing from us.”
“Your money, your home—”
“Is nothing compared to what you give us. You were there when I put my back out and helped me when the business had some hits, you were there when Vera’s mother came to visit and made her stay one of the best she’s had. You’ve given us so much.”
“Do you want to leave us?” Vera asked in a soft voice.
“No, but—”
“Then you will stay.”
“But—”
“Joscelyn Payton is a petty woman who we will ignore.”
But Joscelyn could still reveal the truth and then all that he’d given her would be taken away. It was all a lie. “We can’t do that,” Catherine said, taking a seat. “Because I’m not—”
“Remembering what you put in your will,” he interrupted.
“My will?”
“Yes, you wrote and notarized that if anything were to happen to you that Catherine was to inherit your entire estate and all that you owned. Fortunately, you didn’t need to.”
Evelyn had left all that she owned to her? The money was hers? She was truly rich? So even if the truth came out she couldn’t be charged as a thief. But that still didn’t solve her other problem. “Joscelyn may hurt you to get to me and I can’t allow that,” Catherine said.
“I’ve lived a lot longer than you. I can protect you better than you can protect me.”
“No, you—”
“We lied to you,” Vera said in a rush.
“What?”
“Vera, don’t.”
“Noah, she needs to know. She has the right.”
He hung his head. “All right.”
“What is it?” Catherine asked, her gaze darting between them.
“We never had a natural child, neither together or apart
,” Vera said. “When we put out the notice, we didn’t expect much. When you responded and we corresponded we knew you were the right one for us. After the accident we couldn’t imagine not having you part of our lives no matter what that may mean. We wanted you no matter who you were.”
“You gave my life new meaning,” Noah said lifting his head with tears in his eyes. “Can you forgive us?”
She saw pain and fear swimming in his watery gaze. The fear that she’d reject them, that she’d leave them, that the life they’d built together would crumble in one moment. Pain that Joscelyn had caused. She would no longer let her stepsister use others to get to her. It was time to face Joscelyn. Catherine slowly rose to her feet and held open her arms.
60
Joscelyn checked her reflection in her compact mirror. She knew she looked perfect but she wanted to make sure. She’d dressed with extra care for her dinner with Tytus. He’d invited her and her two sisters to his house, something he’d never done before. She closed the compact and put it away in her handbag, then sat back and glanced around the sitting room, noting the minor changes she’d make when she moved in. After they were married, the maroon-colored walls would become a more uniform cream white, the wood flooring would be a lighter color and the amount of foliage would be greatly reduced and she’d give the fireplace a new mantel.
“Why does your boyfriend want to see us?” Marie said with annoyance, sending a look at the maid watering the plants.
Boyfriend. He wasn’t quite that yet, but she wouldn’t correct her. “I told you. He wants to help your organization. He has the money and key contacts that will serve you well.”
“I don’t know why he needs to see me,” Lorna said with a sniff. “He can’t get me my husband back.”
“But he may have a position for you.”
Marie looked at the time. “What’s taking him so long?”
Joscelyn also glanced at the time. It wasn’t like Tytus to keep her waiting. Before she could call out to the maid to find out what was holding him up, they heard footsteps—high heels. Her heartbeat kicked up in anticipation. Was he going to introduce her to his mother? She smoothed down her hair then looked towards the entrance. Evelyn appeared, dressed in a gossamer blue dress as if she were something from another world.
“So glad you could come,” she said with a smile. “Sorry I’ve kept you waiting.”
Marie surged to her feet. “Ericka, what are you doing here? Is this some sort of trick?”
“No, I wanted to formally introduce myself.” She looked at Joscelyn. “Or maybe I should let you do that, since you already know who I am.”
Joscelyn glared at her with burning eyes. “Where is Tytus?”
“He’ll be here later.”
“What’s going on?” Marie asked her sister. “Do you know her too?”
“We all do,” Joscelyn said in a low voice, her angry gaze never leaving Catherine’s face.
“I don’t know her,” Lorna said.
“She’s Ericka Dantes,” Marie said.
Catherine folded her arms. “That’s one name I’ve used.”
Marie folded her arms in disgust. “Because you’re a con artist.”
Lorna squinted her eyes at her. “You look a little familiar. Did we meet at a party or something?”
Catherine swept her hand through the air in large arc. “I am going to live in a big house one day and have lots of riches,” she said, recalling the dream she’d told them. She rested her hands on her hips and slowly let her gaze rest on each sister. “And you will remember my name.”
Lorna screamed.
Marie fell to her knees. “Dear God, forgive me.”
Joscelyn sat stiff in cool fury. “What do you want?”
“Not much anymore.” She looked at Lorna, who’d regained herself and stared at her with a look of horror. “You lost a man you never deserved to have.” She shifted her gaze to Marie. “Your conscience has kept you prisoner for years.” She finally looked at Joscelyn. “And I haven’t completely finished with you yet.”
“Please don’t tell Mom the truth,” Marie begged, gripping her hands together. “She’s ill and doesn’t have much longer to live.”
Catherine’s lip trembled before she recovered herself. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“If you loved her at all, let her die in peace,” Marie said, tears streaming down her face. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
“Your sisters don’t seem as willing,” she said, casting a glanced at Lorna who’d covered her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to look at Catherine, and then Joscelyn, whose gaze hadn’t wavered—challenge in her eyes.
“It would destroy her,” Marie continued. “We’re the ones to blame, not her or our brother. He’s suffered the most. Our mother hardly lets him out of her sight and has demanded more from him than any of us. He—”
“You’ve begged for him before, I don’t need to see a repeat of that. I will leave him alone and I will also help your company. I have no intention of telling our mother anything.”
Marie’s shoulders drooped in relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank her yet,” Joscelyn said in a cutting tone. “I’m sure that’s not the end of it.”
“That’s true,” Catherine said with a bright smile as if Joscelyn were a clever pupil in her class. “I also have another name, with which you’ve become familiar. Edmund Cristo, the new majority owner of your stepfather’s business.”
Joscelyn narrowed her eyes. “It was you,” she said in a low voice filled with venom. “But you can’t—”
“I can’t what? Own my late father’s business? A business you completely mismanaged? Do you plan to stop me? You were very clever with Jason’s embezzlement case. I can’t make you pay for that, but I’ll win this time.”
“Ericka Dantes? Edmund Cristo?” Joscelyn said with a sniff. “How very droll.”
“Yes,” Catherine said, pleased her sister had made the connection. “The vengeful character Edmund Dantes of The Count of Monte Cristo was a particular favorite of mine.”
Joscelyn leaned back, unfazed. “I don’t care, you can have the company.” She glanced around the grand room. “Do you think this means anything? You’re still nothing to me. Do you think we care about your new fake parentage while our dear mother is dying? Do you think it matters to us that you’ll take off our hands a business we never really cared about? Lorna will find someone else, Marie would have found an investor and I certainly don’t want anything that you have.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Tytus said, walking into the room. He walked up to Catherine and placed an affectionate kiss on her cheek.
Catherine measured her sister, seeing the cool mask of fury settle in place, as she finally realized why Tytus’s house had seemed so familiar to her. It had been in her dream. “You were saying?” she pressed.
Joscelyn gripped her hands into fists, incensed—she’d been tricked and betrayed. She slowly rose to her feet. “Fine, you can have everything,” she said and walked towards the exit then she grabbed a fire poker, spun around and ran towards Catherine. “But you can’t have him.”
“Joscelyn, don’t!” Lorna said, blocking her. She gasped in pain when the poker went through her. She stumbled back and fell.
“No!” Marie rushed forward and fell to her knees beside her fallen sister, watching in terror as blood spurted from the wound. She pressed her hand over it, the blood seeping through her fingers. “Oh God, Joscelyn, what have you done!”
Joscelyn stood paralyzed, horrified by what she’d done, then she looked at Catherine with renewed rage. “It’s her fault! She made me do it! Everything is her fault.”
“Don’t move it,” Tytus said quickly when Marie reached for the poker. But they both knew that keeping the poker in place didn’t matter, the blood continued to flow with steady frequency indicating that a major vessel had been hit. He dialed 911 then said, “Yes, I need an ambulance,” when he finally connected.
“Catherine?”
Lorna said.
Catherine hurried over to her. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry,” she said tears streaming down her face. “So sorry.”
Catherine grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it, all her anger dissipating like smoke and love and compassion filled it. “I forgive you.” She held her sister’s hand tighter. “Now hold on. You can survive this.”
Marie shot Joscelyn a look of disgust as her eldest sister still stood immobile and hadn’t made a move to assist them. “You’re the doctor,” she said. “What should we do?”
I don’t know! Joscelyn wanted to say. Why were they looking at her like that? Why did they think she should be blamed? Catherine was always so charmed. She’d come into their lives and had been given so much, while Joscelyn had to struggle and fight for everything. Even now the Dorans had forgiven her deceit. She would get the business? Joscelyn briefly looked at Tytus. No, Catherine couldn’t have him. She wouldn’t let her. Joscelyn looked at the back of Catherine’s head, her stomach twisting. She hated her to the very core of her being. “It’s not my fault,” she said in a distant voice. “None of this is my fault.”
Lorna looked up at her beloved sister—the beautiful, successful sister she’d always looked up to and had wanted to please and emulate. “Yes, it is,” she said her words growing faint. “Now you have to pay…”
Part V
Redemption
61
Maureen lay in her hospital bed, assailed with regrets as she looked out at the summer evening, knowing it would soon be the last time. She closed her eyes.
She wished she’d been a better wife and a more caring mother to Aaron, who she knew she’d pushed too hard. He’d rarely laughed as a child and as a man he had a grim visage much older than a man his age. There were so many things in her life she would change, although she’d never admit it aloud. She wouldn’t give her mother the satisfaction. Her mother. To think she wouldn’t outlast her. Her mother would think it was suitable punishment. But that didn’t matter now. She wouldn’t have to hear her acid tongue again.
